persona_system: A telescope against a starry sky. (Nagi: Incalculable)
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1. The Sound of Music

"The hills are ALIVE! With the sound of Naziiiiis. Oooo-oooo-aaa-aa-aaaaah!"

Farfarello cringed at the peircing howl coming from down the hall and took a sip of his tea.

"Cuh-thooolooo willl rise.... every thousand yeeee-eeeeaars!"

He heard Crawford's office door open and their leader shout, "I don't think that's how it goes!"

Schuldig paused in his... singing, so he could respond the to older man. "I don't know the real words! My heeearst will be wrecked... with the sound of screeeaming. Aaaa-aaaa-aa-aa-aah!"

Farfarello took another sip of tea and considered the various methods of getting Schuldig to shut up.

"My hearth wants to fling every... uh... soooong it heeears!"

Nagi stomped into the kitchen and yanked his coffee cup out of the cabinet.

"My heart wants to beat like the... things of the things that die something something... really great lay!"

Nagi glared at the several layers of walls seperating them from their musically inclined teamate and threw himself down in the chair next to Farfarello. His cup filled itself at the sink and flew into the microwave as a teabag floated down to land in the water.

"Too... thing through the niiiight! Something something something soooomethiiiing!"

Nagi and Farfarello shared a look of disgust at Schuldig's warbling.

"I go through the hills! When my heart is... somethiiiiing. Ooooo-oooo-oo-oo-ooooh."

A loud crash sounded from Schuldig's room, followed by a yelp before the house was silent. Farfarello waited for the singing to resume, but it seemed Schuldig was done for the day.

"Odd place to end the song," Farfarello commented mildly, giving the younger Japanese boy a look.

Nagi smirked at him.

2. Nag-O-Rama

"Naaa-gi wa-gi wa-gi."

Nagi frowned at his screen.



Nagi forced himself to not strangle his mouse.





"Ick. Nagirello."

A snort. "Sounds like a brand of chocolate. Nawford."

"Delicious Nagirellos! Melt in your mouth. Nagenkreuz."



"Naundry basket."

"Nasket case."

"Look who's nalking."

Several loud snickers. "I'm namished."

"Go get yourself some na-graham crackers."

"Weak. Na-goulash."


"Good one. Na-gourmet."

Stupid Schuldig. Stupid Farfare-


Nagi spun around in his chair. "Farfarello!" he whined. "Not you, too!" Farfarello blinked back innocently while Schuldig stifled a snicker behind his hand. "I thought you were above this kind of thing." Nagi pouted and crossed his arms.

"Na-garage," Schuldig stage-whispered to Farfarello.

"Nag-o-rama," Farfarello whispered back.

3. Phone Tag

Nagi sighed in irritation as his cell rang for what had to be the thirtieth time tonight.

Crawford was in Germany for a meeting of all the away team heads, leaving Schwarz stuck doing petty work in the meantime. No dangerous missions without direct supervision of your officer and all that. Of course the world didn't stop just because Crawford wasn't around, and they'd received orders to do reconnaissance on a new holistic clinic for the next week.

This was the third night in a row they'd been parked at various vantage points monitoring the sleepy little health center, and Schuldig was getting restless. Unlike Farfarello who fidgeted and got a bit snappy when he was bored, Schuldig got talkative. Nagi was tempted to shut off his phone to avoid the constant phone calls, but if Farfarello wanted to talk to him...

"Hello," Nagi ground out.

"Hey Naggles!"

"Schuldig, are you even doing recon or are you just bothering me on the phone?"

"Oh, mostly bothering you on the phone."

Nagi massaged his eyes and sighed.

"Hey Nagi?"

"Yes, Schuldig?"

"You have your computer with you, right?"

"Of course. I always have my computer with me. What kind of question is that?"

"Is it running?"

"Yes..." Nagi mentally checked the area for unusual electric impulses and magnetic waves, anything that would interfere with his computer or any of Schuldig's gadgets. "Why?"

"You'd better go catch it!! Hahaha-"

Nagi hit the end call button, drowning out Schuldig's obnoxious laughter. He glanced across the street to the opposite rooftop where Farfarello's silhouette was pacing back and forth and hit the autodial button.

"Hello, um, Farfarello."


"Would you talk to me for a while?"

4. Grapes

"Whaz for breakfast?" Nagi mumbled, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Crawford set his spatula down and wiped his hands on his apron. "Pancakes, and... whatever fruit Schuldig brings home."

"You're trusting Schuldig to bring home fresh fruit?" Nagi asked disbelievingly.

"He's trusting Schuldig to bring home food." Nagi turned towards the quiet, sleepy confirmation. Farfarello was sitting at the kitchen table, slumped over with his head in his arms. His tea was pushed aside, forgotten.

"Not that I had much choice in the matter," Crawford groused, "Farfarello was up all night because of Schuldig's... music." Both Nagi and Farfarello had to suppress snickers at his disgusted tone. It was impossible to miss how much Crawford hated Schuldig's taste in music, and how much Schuldig used that distaste to his advantage.

"So Farfarello couldn't go and get breakfast because he's tired, so rather than waking me you sent out Schuldig?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time..." Crawford trailed off at the sound of the front door opening.

"Honey, I'm home!" Schuldig called from the front room. The three other Schwarz members waited anxiously while the German kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his coat and made his way into the tiny kitchen.

"Did you actually bring home fruit?" Farfarello asked from the table.

"Uh..." Schuldig glanced into his paper bag. "Grapes are fruit, aren't they?"

Nagi and Crawford both sighed in relief. Crawford reassured the younger man, "Yes. They're fruit."

Schuldig turned to smile at their leader and whistled in appreciation at his attire. "Wooh, apron over the suit. Nice look, Brad."

Crawford ran a self-conscious hand down the side of his black, knee-length cooking apron. Schuldig always made it sound as if he were mincing around the kitchen in a pink ruffled pinny.

"It's not an apron. It's a chef's smock," Crawford corrected with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Yeah, right... Isn't a smock sort of like those things..." Schuldig gestured vaguely and Nagi and Farfarello both tried to puzzle out what he was talking about.


“Neck ties?”


"Those hair-dresser things?" Nagi asked.

"Nah, those are just called smocks I think."

"Ponchos?" Farfarello asked.

"Yeah! That's the word." Schuldig grinned at Brad. "Aye carumba!"

"Anyway," Crawford cut in before the conversation got any more ridiculous. "Schuldig, wash up the grapes. Farfarello, set the table. Nagi... get some coffee or tea or something before you fall asleep."

Schuldig slid a colander out of the cabinet and dumped his grapes into it. He ran them through the sink a few times and dropped the colander on the table. Crawford swept over to the table with the pancakes and syrup.

Farfarello paused in his placement of the dishes and stared at the grapes. "Uh... Nagi," he got the attention of the younger boy. "These grapes look a little... odd."

Nagi blinked questioningly at the Irishman. "Odd?" He peered down at the fruit.

"You're right," he said. "They do look odd."

Farfarello and Nagi shared a confused look before turning their attention back to the strainer.

"What's wrong with them?" Nagi asked, bumping the basket slightly with his hand.

"I don't know." Farfarello shook the basket slightly, watching as the grapes continued to jiggle strangely.

"Breakfast time!" Schuldig broke into their observation, dropping down into a seat. The two youngest members of the team shared another look and shrugged at each other.

Schuldig began piling pancakes onto his plate, and the rest of the team tried to get their share before they were gone. Crawford broke off a bunch of grapes for each of them and they started eating.

Crawford was the first to eat a grape. Nagi and Farfarello looked on as he grimaced and pushed his grape bunch away from him in disgust.

"There's something wrong with these grapes," their leader said. "Schuldig, did you look at these before you bought them?"

Schuldig blinked up innocently, his fork halfway to his mouth. "No?" He looked down in surprise as the pancake piled onto his fork tumbled off onto his plate. "Was I supposed to?"

Nagi had to fight back a smile at Farfarello's frustrated sigh. Crawford was staring blankly at the fiery German.

"I didn't know I was supposed to look at them! What would I look for? How would I know that, anyway!" Schuldig tried to defend himself.

Crawford made a face. "Well, they're bad however we look at it. Let's just enjoy our pancakes." The team nodded in agreement.

Farfarello looked across the table at Schuldig. He was moping, poking dejectedly at his pancakes.
Farfarello dropped his fork to his plate in shock as one of Schuldig's grapes started rolling across the table of it's own volition.

"Um... Farfarello?" Nagi asked with concern. One of the Irishman’s eyebrows hiked up as the grape reversed direction. "Are you okay?" Getting no response Nagi followed the older man's line of sight to the offending grape.

Nagi blinked several times to clear his eyesight and leaned in closer to the grape. The move put him halfway across Schuldig's plate but the redhead was too busy sulking to notice. Nagi watched as the grape spun around a few times and then launched itself over toward Nagi's plate. Nagi sat back in surprise, quickly lifting his plate out of the mad grape's path.

"Schuldig?" Nagi said, using his free hand to shake the man's shoulder. Schuldig looked up at him. "I think there's something wrong with your grape." He pointed to the offending food article. It was now spinning in place near Farfarello's tea cup.

Crawford and Schuldig both leaned over the table to get a closer look at the grape.

"What's wrong with it?" Schuldig asked, awed.

Crawford poked it with his fork. The grape rolled with the impact and launched itself toward Farfarello. The Irishman blocked the grape with his butter knife and it ricocheted toward Crawford instead.

Farfarello drew one of his knives and pinned the grape to the table.

Schwarz watched in horrified fascination as the grape slowly split along the knife blade. What looked like a long piece of string slowly lifted itself out of the opening, swaying like a charmed snake. Another loop of the thin filament pushed it's way out, widening the gap even further.

Schuldig muttered something inaudible.

"What the fuck?" Farfarello mumbled.

"K'so," Nagi agreed, gripping the Irishman’s arm in what he swore wasn’t fear.

More loops and strands started spilling out of the grape and onto the table. They writhed and tugged the grape apart. Then Nagi gasped in delight.

"Nematode!" Nagi half-shouted in excitement. He pushed Schuldig out of the way to get a closer look at the garden creature.

"What?" Farfarello asked, trying to twine one of the strings around his fork.

"It's a nematode," Nagi said breathlessly. "Simple organism. They live in the soil."

"Is it dangerous?" Crawford asked, thinking of that grape he had eaten earlier.

"I don't think so. You should probably check online just in case."

"Let's light it on fire!" Schuldig yelled, grabbing Crawford's glasses from his face and trying to focus the sun through the lenses.

"Schuldig!" Crawford snapped. He snatched back his glasses and looked closer at the strange creature.

"Maybe we should just throw these away," Farfarello said, intervening. He scooped up the wriggling nematodes in one of the placemats and dumped them down the disposal along with all of the grapes.

Edit: Formatting got a bit screwed up with the cuts, but I don't feel like changing it, kthx.

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