Categories > Anime/Manga > Weiss Kreuz > Met In Circles
In the Cards
Brad had always been an emotional person, felt twists of the gut and tightenings of the heart. His breath could catch, his fists could clench. He could sneer, smirk, laugh, smile, tease. Brad was only human, after all, a simple common normal human. But when you're young, that's the last thing you want to be. Idle dreams, of gods and heroes and majesty. Grand visions of fiction, phantom tastes of what it could be if the world was different. If there was /more/.
Brad had wanted to be a king.
Now he stands there, the self-made-but-still-in-progress Crawford with a blank slate face. Hands easy by his sides. Calm, perfectly calm, as if there was nothing in the world he'd rather be doing then listening to the less-than-wise words of his so-called superior.
He'd worked hard for this, the poker face that won him card games when he'd still bothered to interact with the other gifted students. The one that earned him the favor and praise of so many professors.
He still had to concentrate on his eyes, though, where things leaked out into coffee-amber. As if some parts of his soul simply wouldn't be hidden away.
"You're probably going to be placed on assassination missions. Think you can kill little children as they sleep?" The dark-haired Egyptian woman moved like royalty and smelled like Jasmine, the scent clinging to her desperately for all the years she had taught him. It was the only sweet thing about her, and Crawford knew he would hate the smell of flowers for the rest of his life.
"There will be no problems." Short, clinical statements. No emotion to be read. Voice hard as diamonds.
Her kohled eyes narrowed as she studied him, smirk tugging at painted lips. "You are a cold bastard, young Crawford." The sentence lingered, almost but not quite a question.
Eyes like diamonds, Brad chanted frantically in his mind and Crawford obeyed.
She sighed, not finding anything, but the smirk was back again in an instant. "You're taking a trainee on this mission. Both to test his abilities and yours."
"I can handle it."
"Heh." She waved a hand, ushering him out of her office. "We shall see. He's waiting outside for your orders."
When the flower smell was gone and the door clicked shut behind him, his eyes traveled to the chair opposite him. Ragged hair and rope burns, too-sharp angles sprawled carelessly and dangerously, jester's grin. Empty, empty eyes that could spark on cue.
"King of Diamonds?" Schuldig asked, shifting like unfurling silk though he wore coarse linen. "I'd be the Wild Card, then."
Crawford could feel the surprise in his eyes.
Brad had always been an emotional person, felt twists of the gut and tightenings of the heart. His breath could catch, his fists could clench. He could sneer, smirk, laugh, smile, tease. Brad was only human, after all, a simple common normal human. But when you're young, that's the last thing you want to be. Idle dreams, of gods and heroes and majesty. Grand visions of fiction, phantom tastes of what it could be if the world was different. If there was /more/.
Brad had wanted to be a king.
Now he stands there, the self-made-but-still-in-progress Crawford with a blank slate face. Hands easy by his sides. Calm, perfectly calm, as if there was nothing in the world he'd rather be doing then listening to the less-than-wise words of his so-called superior.
He'd worked hard for this, the poker face that won him card games when he'd still bothered to interact with the other gifted students. The one that earned him the favor and praise of so many professors.
He still had to concentrate on his eyes, though, where things leaked out into coffee-amber. As if some parts of his soul simply wouldn't be hidden away.
"You're probably going to be placed on assassination missions. Think you can kill little children as they sleep?" The dark-haired Egyptian woman moved like royalty and smelled like Jasmine, the scent clinging to her desperately for all the years she had taught him. It was the only sweet thing about her, and Crawford knew he would hate the smell of flowers for the rest of his life.
"There will be no problems." Short, clinical statements. No emotion to be read. Voice hard as diamonds.
Her kohled eyes narrowed as she studied him, smirk tugging at painted lips. "You are a cold bastard, young Crawford." The sentence lingered, almost but not quite a question.
Eyes like diamonds, Brad chanted frantically in his mind and Crawford obeyed.
She sighed, not finding anything, but the smirk was back again in an instant. "You're taking a trainee on this mission. Both to test his abilities and yours."
"I can handle it."
"Heh." She waved a hand, ushering him out of her office. "We shall see. He's waiting outside for your orders."
When the flower smell was gone and the door clicked shut behind him, his eyes traveled to the chair opposite him. Ragged hair and rope burns, too-sharp angles sprawled carelessly and dangerously, jester's grin. Empty, empty eyes that could spark on cue.
"King of Diamonds?" Schuldig asked, shifting like unfurling silk though he wore coarse linen. "I'd be the Wild Card, then."
Crawford could feel the surprise in his eyes.
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