→ Log; Complete

[guise-and-guilt.livejournal.com]

When; January 3rd, evening.
Rating; PG
Characters; Naoe Nagi [ephemeralthing] & Schuldig [guise_and_guilt]
Summary; Wherein Schuldig and Nagi move in together, and Hell freezes over. ♥
Log;

Time, Schuldig decided, was one of those volatile consistencies. Regardless of persons involved or locations torn down, it was almost a guaranteed bet that Time would Fuck Something Up. All it took was a fraction of a second or a quarter of a lifetime, and buildings fell, men died, cats drowned; and along with it, time wound telekenetics, telepaths, clairvoyants, and one-eyed sado-masochists through impossible loopholes straight into a literal (though mostly metaphorical) hell.

It really wasn't fair.

He wasn't one to believe in hellish afterlives or romanticized forever-mores - and far be it, really, for him to show even the slightest bit of reverence (or shame) in holy places - but if things continued barreling down the path that they were going... well. There was much to be said about time, luck, and snow in hell.

A day hadn't even passed since the moment when Schuldig had tumbled from a collapsing building into an ocean of maul-happy sea life. And in that instant, he really had expected to do either one of two things: kick the bucket/building remains/whatever, or wind up badly maimed and missing a limb or two. It was with such thoughts in mind that Schuldig considered himself blessed that he'd set aside a small portion of his human heart for moments of disbelief.

Except, now, he was back in the City.

And he was trekking through a field of snow. In the City of Hell.

"Scheiße," he uttered beneath his breath, watching with a lethargic sort of fascination as his breath fanned out in puffs. It really was fucking cold and where the hell was Nagi, again? Maybe if he could find the origin of the thoughts, he could --

Ah, there.

Hunching over his posture, Schuldig deliberately slowed down his strides as he approached the younger male – sure that, if anything, his trademark green coat would catch Nagi’s attention. Only when he was in talking distance did he finally allow his hands to fall away from the pockets of his coat. Lazily, he arched a brow in greeting.

"And you don't call this nurturing?"

…Nevermind the fact that Schuldig was probably an hour late. He wasn't very good with keeping time, anyway.

Comments

[ephemeralthing.livejournal.com]

[guise-and-guilt.livejournal.com]

Schuldig waved off the comment with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Same difference~. You know, in German folklore, the ever-loving parents always send their kids off to get maimed by wolves or eaten by witches. So leaving you out in the cold?" He shrugged, clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and made a noise halfway between a grunt and a sigh. "Sign of affection~, Prinzessin."

Of course, the folklore bit was a thinly veiled, half-assed lie, but hell if he knew of any children's tales that didn't usually end up with maulings. Schuldig's memory only covered so much ground, and it was better, in any case, than sharing that borderline incestuous tale about the red-hooded girl and the seven/nine/twenty midget brothers in an abandoned cottage.

Anyway. He motioned vaguely towards the direction he'd come from, head canting. The latter action was a sort of unconscious habit he'd picked up from some person or another; at least it helped him clear his thoughts without the conspicuous head-shaking, eye-drawing portion.

"Shall we? I'll even hold your hand if you ask nicely~."

[ephemeralthing.livejournal.com]

[guise-and-guilt.livejournal.com]

"Somewhere. I wouldn't be surprised if he's off at a church right now." '-- possibly performing some archaic nun-slicing ritual,' he added to himself mentally, knowing fully well that the idea went without saying.

But, on the other hand... Schuldig swept a thoughtful glance over the teenager. He was tempted - however childish and half-hearted the niggling desire was - to comment on the other's complete and utter lack of enthusiasm for the general well-being of the team's personal bible-thumper. Then he remembered this was Nagi, and there was Tot, and then that slight incident he'd helped orchestrate which led to Tot's Rather Unfortunate Death.

So, in a rare moment of forethought, the German restrained himself and, instead, quickened his pace to the beat of a tune a nearby stranger - Alice - was humming in her mind. Much as he'd hate to admit, it was cold and his hair was on the verge of frosting over. "But he'll find us," he said eventually, then rifled for a moment through his pocket before tugging out a card. "One of the keys to the room."

[ephemeralthing.livejournal.com]

[guise-and-guilt.livejournal.com]

Telekenetics and their tricks.

Schuldig would have called the younger male lazy if it weren't for the fact that, had he been the one blessed with that particular talent, he would have done the same exact thing. -- Or possibly just levitated the key card the entire way home while smacking a few people upside their heads for good measure. Ah, well. He clasped his hands together, rubbing to generate even the slightest bit of heat before lacing them together and stretching.

The apartment complex wasn't too far off at that point – less than a few paces away and nestled between two other similarly lit buildings. Only when he finally came to a stop in front of the third building and most graciously swept the door open with an obsequious bow did he decide to break the silence.

"A back rub sounds pretty good right now." It was a thoughtful comment, and he paused as though a bright idea had struck. Which it had. ...somewhat. "Hey," and here, he made a grand show of mimicking Nagi's hand movements mid-building destruction, "ever considered masseuse work?"

[ephemeralthing.livejournal.com]