SchwartzKlok
folder
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
836
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
836
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Not a thing of Weiss Kruez or Metalacolypse belongs to me. I make no money from this.
SchwartzKlok
A/N: Try to guess who it is. I'll tell you at the end.
***
Crawford came out of the vision with a little smirk on his face, world stock exchange news entirely forgetten. Schuldig was drawn out of the kitchen by the murmur of excitement ghosting along Brad's shields.
"So, what's got you so excited?"
Crawford pushed up his glasses. He considered keeping the information away from the German to annoy him, but decided that, in the end, it wouldn't matter anyway.
"I have seen my path to ruling the world."
Schuldig was intrigued. Since the fall of EZ, Schwartz had just been waiting for Crawford to make his move. The liesure time had been nice, but he missed the general mayhem of working life.
When Crawford continued to just smirk at him, Schuldig raised an eyebrow.
"How?"
"I will manage a band."
Schuldig almost blew coffee out of his nose. "What? You can't be serious! How could a fucking band be better at world domination than us?"
The smile that graced Crawford's face made Schuldig slightly uneasy. "Schwartz has been a powerful force, but the death and destruction will be nothing compared to this. People will die by the hundreds and shall willingly sign their lives away to do it."
He let out a low laugh. "The world will happily bow, addicted to their new leaders. And behind it all... will be me."
Schuldig writhed under the sudden onslaught of Crawford's vision. It was an endless parade of slaughter, intentional and accidental, and behind it all was five men, standing in a snow-coated forrest, completely unaware of the true power they held.
The intensity of it had Schuldig curled up in the corner of the couch, reeling. Could a band really do that much damage? And be so stupid? He shook his head and watched Crawford stand and stretch. As he walked out, Crawford patted Schuldig on the head like a puppy.
"Now, pack your things. First, we're going to Florida."
***
A/N: Did ya guess it? It's Dethklok! Kind of a stretch, but the manager is the only employee who seems to be above the string of violent deaths that curses the band. Plus, can't you just see Schuldig bitching about having to wear an executioners hood all the time? Farfarello would probably like it, though.
***
Crawford came out of the vision with a little smirk on his face, world stock exchange news entirely forgetten. Schuldig was drawn out of the kitchen by the murmur of excitement ghosting along Brad's shields.
"So, what's got you so excited?"
Crawford pushed up his glasses. He considered keeping the information away from the German to annoy him, but decided that, in the end, it wouldn't matter anyway.
"I have seen my path to ruling the world."
Schuldig was intrigued. Since the fall of EZ, Schwartz had just been waiting for Crawford to make his move. The liesure time had been nice, but he missed the general mayhem of working life.
When Crawford continued to just smirk at him, Schuldig raised an eyebrow.
"How?"
"I will manage a band."
Schuldig almost blew coffee out of his nose. "What? You can't be serious! How could a fucking band be better at world domination than us?"
The smile that graced Crawford's face made Schuldig slightly uneasy. "Schwartz has been a powerful force, but the death and destruction will be nothing compared to this. People will die by the hundreds and shall willingly sign their lives away to do it."
He let out a low laugh. "The world will happily bow, addicted to their new leaders. And behind it all... will be me."
Schuldig writhed under the sudden onslaught of Crawford's vision. It was an endless parade of slaughter, intentional and accidental, and behind it all was five men, standing in a snow-coated forrest, completely unaware of the true power they held.
The intensity of it had Schuldig curled up in the corner of the couch, reeling. Could a band really do that much damage? And be so stupid? He shook his head and watched Crawford stand and stretch. As he walked out, Crawford patted Schuldig on the head like a puppy.
"Now, pack your things. First, we're going to Florida."
***
A/N: Did ya guess it? It's Dethklok! Kind of a stretch, but the manager is the only employee who seems to be above the string of violent deaths that curses the band. Plus, can't you just see Schuldig bitching about having to wear an executioners hood all the time? Farfarello would probably like it, though.