Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Weiss Kreuz, or Farf.
Rated for language, violence, and later sexual situations(yaoi).
(A/N) I was re-watching the episodes of WK, and I suddenly thought, 'Hey, what if Farfie had been caught by Weiss?' And this is what I think it might be like. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was so fucked. He knew it. He had let his bloodlust and his want for God's punishment get in the way of his clear-headedness in the fight, if he ever thought clearly. His teammates just hadn't responded quickly enough to his mistake when he had let Siberian slashed him across the chest and followed up with an upper-cut, the claws nearly taking off his cheek. It was a good thing he couldn't feel pain. He could feel his skin healing itself, becoming scabs that would fall off in a day or two. Weiss had him now, and he had no idea what they would do. He had been unconscious when they had brought him in, but it seemed he was in a basement, strapped in a straightjacket chained sitting to the wall. They had taken away his knives, needles, and all his other weapons.
Did they think he was super-human, to chain him like that? He could barely get out of a regular straightjacket, and when hanging upside down, he was there for good until someone let him out. But he would not tell them that. Hanging upside for long periods of time made his head feel fuzzy, like instead of the normal liquid his brain was supposed to be in it was cotton. He suspected in was his version of a headache. All he wanted to do now was seriously maim/torture/kill Siberian. And all the other kittens. And a priest or two. And some nuns. Then he wanted to sleep. Sleeping contently after killing so many would certainly make God cry even more. He was all but lost in his imaginings off torturous deaths to those he had "added" to his list when he heard footsteps coming toward the door.
He couldn't make out much in the darkness, but it looked as though several people were fighting to get a look at him through a very small window. 'They act like this is a damn zoo.' He sighed. God was so going to pay for this. At least a whole clergy when he got out, possibly more if he could get past Crawford. He heard muffled voices, and then the sound of several locks being unbolted. 'Ten. That's more than at home. They must be really uneasy with me here.' Filing that thought away for later use, he waited as the four members of Weiss filed in, weapons drawn, followed by a red-haired woman who looked more curious than scared. He mentally added her to the list and waited for them to start the talking. If they were going to kill him, he wouldn't stop them. His death would hurt God, and his only regret would be that he didn't take them down too. Ah, well, he could live with that. He snickered as he thought that, a stupid pun at a situation like this.
"He really is insane." Said the woman, in a voice he likened to being made to lay in his straight-jacket listening to a boy-band for punishment. Schuldig once said Crawford had thought about it, and Farfarello had had nightmares for a week. "Please, don't state the obvious. I might get a head- ache from listening to your voice to long." He couldn't bite his tongue. But God hated sarcasm, so there was no need. "I seriously doubt that. You're acting like you don't even feel that wound on your face, so how could you get a headache?" Asked a blonde, Bombay, if his memory served him correctly. It usually did. "I can feel the wounds, not the pain. All my pain goes directly towards the Liar." He cackled.
They looked at him funnily after this, exchanging glances and then staring at him again. 'Maybe this is a zoo. I wanna see the penguins. Birds that can't fly hurt God.' He thought, and was interrupted my Abyssinian saying, rather sharply "Don't speak in riddles. When we ask you a question, we want the truth. And we will get it." From his position on the ground, Farfarello looked up at the red-haired assassin, cocking his head. He didn't bother to close his eyes when the lights came on, he didn't flinch either. "How can you make me? You can't hurt me any more than I can hurt myself." He took a look at his prison. Just a big, concrete square room, empty except for him and his captors. They were exchanging looks again. "Are all your wounds self-inflicted, except for the ones I gave you?" He was going to fuck Siberian up big time for sounding so cocky. "All except my eye. I got that taken out when I was in my first institution." They seemed surprised to get that much, but he wanted them to know. He was good at reading people, and he knew what the next question would be. They wouldn't like the answer.
"How did that happen? Were you in a fight?" Yep. Just like he thought. The woman, who had asked the question, motioned for someone outside the door. Chairs were brought in for her and the kittens. "You could say that. One of my doctors, one I had maimed, left me alone with a schizophrenic patient. I was in a straightjacket and he wasn't. He had a mood swing and I got an eye taken out. By the time the guards rushed in, he was dead, and it took the loss of five of their men before they got out of there and gassed the room to knock me out. I was transferred the next day." Farfarello enjoyed their reactions, although he was a bit surprised to see that Abyssinian looked almost approving, as did Balinese. But then, he didn't really know any of then, or their pasts. The rest looked downright disgusted or scared. He watched their eyes travel along the chains, making sure they were tight without getting to close. He smiled, showing a few sharp teeth. He had always enjoyed "playing" with kittens, but he hadn't had the chance since Jei was alive. And Jei had very different ideas of playing than Farfarello.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eh... I don't really like this chapter, but it was necessary to the story, I suppose. I'm working on a interpretation of how Farfie got this way, and I am doing my best for it to be original. But it will be after this story is done.
Rated for language, violence, and later sexual situations(yaoi).
(A/N) I was re-watching the episodes of WK, and I suddenly thought, 'Hey, what if Farfie had been caught by Weiss?' And this is what I think it might be like. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was so fucked. He knew it. He had let his bloodlust and his want for God's punishment get in the way of his clear-headedness in the fight, if he ever thought clearly. His teammates just hadn't responded quickly enough to his mistake when he had let Siberian slashed him across the chest and followed up with an upper-cut, the claws nearly taking off his cheek. It was a good thing he couldn't feel pain. He could feel his skin healing itself, becoming scabs that would fall off in a day or two. Weiss had him now, and he had no idea what they would do. He had been unconscious when they had brought him in, but it seemed he was in a basement, strapped in a straightjacket chained sitting to the wall. They had taken away his knives, needles, and all his other weapons.
Did they think he was super-human, to chain him like that? He could barely get out of a regular straightjacket, and when hanging upside down, he was there for good until someone let him out. But he would not tell them that. Hanging upside for long periods of time made his head feel fuzzy, like instead of the normal liquid his brain was supposed to be in it was cotton. He suspected in was his version of a headache. All he wanted to do now was seriously maim/torture/kill Siberian. And all the other kittens. And a priest or two. And some nuns. Then he wanted to sleep. Sleeping contently after killing so many would certainly make God cry even more. He was all but lost in his imaginings off torturous deaths to those he had "added" to his list when he heard footsteps coming toward the door.
He couldn't make out much in the darkness, but it looked as though several people were fighting to get a look at him through a very small window. 'They act like this is a damn zoo.' He sighed. God was so going to pay for this. At least a whole clergy when he got out, possibly more if he could get past Crawford. He heard muffled voices, and then the sound of several locks being unbolted. 'Ten. That's more than at home. They must be really uneasy with me here.' Filing that thought away for later use, he waited as the four members of Weiss filed in, weapons drawn, followed by a red-haired woman who looked more curious than scared. He mentally added her to the list and waited for them to start the talking. If they were going to kill him, he wouldn't stop them. His death would hurt God, and his only regret would be that he didn't take them down too. Ah, well, he could live with that. He snickered as he thought that, a stupid pun at a situation like this.
"He really is insane." Said the woman, in a voice he likened to being made to lay in his straight-jacket listening to a boy-band for punishment. Schuldig once said Crawford had thought about it, and Farfarello had had nightmares for a week. "Please, don't state the obvious. I might get a head- ache from listening to your voice to long." He couldn't bite his tongue. But God hated sarcasm, so there was no need. "I seriously doubt that. You're acting like you don't even feel that wound on your face, so how could you get a headache?" Asked a blonde, Bombay, if his memory served him correctly. It usually did. "I can feel the wounds, not the pain. All my pain goes directly towards the Liar." He cackled.
They looked at him funnily after this, exchanging glances and then staring at him again. 'Maybe this is a zoo. I wanna see the penguins. Birds that can't fly hurt God.' He thought, and was interrupted my Abyssinian saying, rather sharply "Don't speak in riddles. When we ask you a question, we want the truth. And we will get it." From his position on the ground, Farfarello looked up at the red-haired assassin, cocking his head. He didn't bother to close his eyes when the lights came on, he didn't flinch either. "How can you make me? You can't hurt me any more than I can hurt myself." He took a look at his prison. Just a big, concrete square room, empty except for him and his captors. They were exchanging looks again. "Are all your wounds self-inflicted, except for the ones I gave you?" He was going to fuck Siberian up big time for sounding so cocky. "All except my eye. I got that taken out when I was in my first institution." They seemed surprised to get that much, but he wanted them to know. He was good at reading people, and he knew what the next question would be. They wouldn't like the answer.
"How did that happen? Were you in a fight?" Yep. Just like he thought. The woman, who had asked the question, motioned for someone outside the door. Chairs were brought in for her and the kittens. "You could say that. One of my doctors, one I had maimed, left me alone with a schizophrenic patient. I was in a straightjacket and he wasn't. He had a mood swing and I got an eye taken out. By the time the guards rushed in, he was dead, and it took the loss of five of their men before they got out of there and gassed the room to knock me out. I was transferred the next day." Farfarello enjoyed their reactions, although he was a bit surprised to see that Abyssinian looked almost approving, as did Balinese. But then, he didn't really know any of then, or their pasts. The rest looked downright disgusted or scared. He watched their eyes travel along the chains, making sure they were tight without getting to close. He smiled, showing a few sharp teeth. He had always enjoyed "playing" with kittens, but he hadn't had the chance since Jei was alive. And Jei had very different ideas of playing than Farfarello.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eh... I don't really like this chapter, but it was necessary to the story, I suppose. I'm working on a interpretation of how Farfie got this way, and I am doing my best for it to be original. But it will be after this story is done.