Conscience
By: Joist
Summary: Weiss and Schwarz's opinions on Schuldich in general. From a symbol of God to an addictive drug and to a hated and pig-headed man, their opinions of him differ greatly. But what Schuldich thinks of himself...is nothing less than uncanny.
Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz or any related logos/characters. But I do own this story! :) No using with out permission, a'ight?
Oh, and these are all MY opinions on how I think Schwarz and Weiss see Schuldich; this is in no way backed by the actual series, other than using that for information... This is a vessel for my imagination, and their relationships with the resident psychic. So no flaming, because these are MY OPINIONS in the form of Schwarz's opinions!
The title was derived from 'a guilty conscience.' Guilty because of the name Schuldich; conscience because, well, this is a story of what everyone thinks of him, and it's like... their sub-consciousness and (yes I know they're totally different things) – ARGH. If you're really that interested in the title, e-mail me at Shiyamainu@yahoo.com and I'll get back to ya on that.
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Chapter 1
Symbolic – Farfarello
He is a symbol. He thinks he is above others; heated and haughty. The air around him lacks in what Crawford and Nagi hold.
He knows he will die one day, and in that I assume he is living life on the edge to relieve himself of that truth and realization.
He will die with no regrets, living the way he is. He is a frivolous person, and he toys with people he dubs "pretty." He can make them reach the edge, to the point of their demise, and he'll laugh it off...and search for another toy to play with.
I hate him. I said he was a symbol, but for what I did not.
Surrealism.
To go beyond reality.
I have been there. There is nothing good within that place.
He thinks he is God's gift to men and women alike.
He holds faith within himself. Faith in what, I can't figure out. But I hate him for it.
I know, within that careless, reckless body of his, he still holds onto the bits of faith that have ripped over the ages. Some of those shreds I have created; some of them are from his past he can hardly remember – his abilities are hell, he once told me – and he suffers a little from that.
A little.
It is little enough to overlook, and he does. He takes advantage of their diminutive size; he replaces those memories he knows he has lost with the faces of women and men he beds – but their faces are vague or completely forgotten the next morning.
I hate him.
He is a symbol of a faith I have no part in.
He is not a follower of God, not that I am aware of, and I know I would be aware of it if he were.
He is a follower of something, but I don't know what it is.
I hate him.
Schuldich.
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Next chapter is #2: Charismatic. In Omi's Point of View.
