Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss, Schwarz, or anything associated with them;
they belong to Project Weiss in all their angsty pretty boy wonderfulness.
Contradiction By rainfall
-------------------------
//Laughter can be anything. It can be a voice for any possible emotion.
A laugh can be cold, hot, blank, humorless, amused.
A laugh can be mocking, angry, or joyful.
A laugh can convey fear, hatred, love, arrogance, or understanding.
A laugh can breed resentment or break a heart.
A laugh can light the world or smash the lights like a cheap glass bottle.
It can scrape your nerves raw or wrap them in wool.
A laugh can cheer or injure.
A laugh can be both a weapon and a shield.
"Laugh and the world laughs with you." Laughs at you.
Laughter is one of the most frightening aspects of human nature.//
He sits hunched over, on the edge of a cot in a bare-walled bedroom. The sheets on the makeshift bed are white and rumpled, like he's been tossing in his sleep. His head rests heavily in slender hands, hair a curtain of fine fire over his face. His shoulders shake under a light shirt that's obviously been slept in. It's almost midnight, and a radio blaring from the next room masks any sound he might make.
The pounding guitar and harsh singing blends with the voices that are always there, that are always a part of his mind. The volume rises and falls like a badly tuned television, and sometimes he can't separate his own thoughts from the pool.
He's going to kill tonight.
He always kills; it's his job and it's a game. Life is a game for him. It is a playground, complete with slides and swings and monkey bars to play on. Twists and turns and sand to throw in other's faces.
Escape, bait, trap, laugh, and escape. It's a cycle he's never going to get out of; it's a cycle he's known all his life. It binds him tighter than the strongest chain.
Freaks, after all, aren't normal people. And he's always been a freak. You see, he can read minds.
//Laughter is also the most reassuring aspect of human nature.
Even a lunatic can laugh with the rest of the world.//
He once told somebody that sometimes, when the voices are the worst, they become his own. He doesn't know what he's thinking because he's listening to the rest of humankind.
It never gets any better, but after twenty years he's learned to accept it, to deal with it to some extent.
//Laughter can be a wall or a sledgehammer. It can be both.//
He would kill tonight, and he would laugh. One less voice, one less though to invade his mind.
It's one more number in his private countdown to hell.
He had seen all of this long ago. He had predicted when he first met them, his teammates for the next few years. Oh, he couldn't see the future like their leader, but he wasn't stupid. For him the path was clear.
He laughed at the world because they couldn't laugh with him. They don't know what they think in their darkest heart of hearts. He does.
It is his gift, and it is his curse.
It is his damnation.
He will laugh because it is amusing in a world that has little to offer him aside from amusement.
He will laugh because he is guilty, and so are they.
The difference is, he knows.
//Laughter is a contradiction.//
//Guilt is recognizing the contradiction.//
He is black. //Schwarz//
He is guilty. //Schuldig//
He doesn't care anymore.
Contradiction By rainfall
-------------------------
//Laughter can be anything. It can be a voice for any possible emotion.
A laugh can be cold, hot, blank, humorless, amused.
A laugh can be mocking, angry, or joyful.
A laugh can convey fear, hatred, love, arrogance, or understanding.
A laugh can breed resentment or break a heart.
A laugh can light the world or smash the lights like a cheap glass bottle.
It can scrape your nerves raw or wrap them in wool.
A laugh can cheer or injure.
A laugh can be both a weapon and a shield.
"Laugh and the world laughs with you." Laughs at you.
Laughter is one of the most frightening aspects of human nature.//
He sits hunched over, on the edge of a cot in a bare-walled bedroom. The sheets on the makeshift bed are white and rumpled, like he's been tossing in his sleep. His head rests heavily in slender hands, hair a curtain of fine fire over his face. His shoulders shake under a light shirt that's obviously been slept in. It's almost midnight, and a radio blaring from the next room masks any sound he might make.
The pounding guitar and harsh singing blends with the voices that are always there, that are always a part of his mind. The volume rises and falls like a badly tuned television, and sometimes he can't separate his own thoughts from the pool.
He's going to kill tonight.
He always kills; it's his job and it's a game. Life is a game for him. It is a playground, complete with slides and swings and monkey bars to play on. Twists and turns and sand to throw in other's faces.
Escape, bait, trap, laugh, and escape. It's a cycle he's never going to get out of; it's a cycle he's known all his life. It binds him tighter than the strongest chain.
Freaks, after all, aren't normal people. And he's always been a freak. You see, he can read minds.
//Laughter is also the most reassuring aspect of human nature.
Even a lunatic can laugh with the rest of the world.//
He once told somebody that sometimes, when the voices are the worst, they become his own. He doesn't know what he's thinking because he's listening to the rest of humankind.
It never gets any better, but after twenty years he's learned to accept it, to deal with it to some extent.
//Laughter can be a wall or a sledgehammer. It can be both.//
He would kill tonight, and he would laugh. One less voice, one less though to invade his mind.
It's one more number in his private countdown to hell.
He had seen all of this long ago. He had predicted when he first met them, his teammates for the next few years. Oh, he couldn't see the future like their leader, but he wasn't stupid. For him the path was clear.
He laughed at the world because they couldn't laugh with him. They don't know what they think in their darkest heart of hearts. He does.
It is his gift, and it is his curse.
It is his damnation.
He will laugh because it is amusing in a world that has little to offer him aside from amusement.
He will laugh because he is guilty, and so are they.
The difference is, he knows.
//Laughter is a contradiction.//
//Guilt is recognizing the contradiction.//
He is black. //Schwarz//
He is guilty. //Schuldig//
He doesn't care anymore.
