Verrück Aachen | M | 23 | Mafia | M: Caspian Cadogan, Nicholas Accardi (dir.)
~
Verrück observed Caspian’s reactions with a growing smirk, his sharp eyes catching every flicker of disdain and amusement that crossed the other man’s features. He leaned back against the crumpled car, watching the exchange unfold with lazy curiosity. His own expression remained unreadable, save for the glimmer of mischief that never fully left his gaze.
-
Nicholas’s presence wasn’t unexpected, but it was still irritating—a constant reminder of the fools who clung to order in this chaotic world. Verrück couldn’t help but scoff quietly to himself as the man spoke, the self-righteous tone grating against his nerves like nails on rusted steel.
-
When Caspian finally addressed Nicholas, Verrück didn’t miss the way his words dripped with mockery. The thinly veiled disdain was a shared sentiment, and it amused Verrück to see Caspian’s patience wearing thin. As Caspian’s attention shifted back to him, the subtle gesture toward Nicholas’s wings wasn’t lost on him.
-
Ver had to admit, he admired Nicholas in the slightest. Well, when he wasn't being a generic old man and yelling at everyone to get to work. But Ver knew him only for his ruthlessness, and he'd always come to appreciate ruthlessness, even if past.
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Verrück responded with a slow, deliberate grin, his dagger still twirling absently between his fingers. He let the silence hang for a moment longer than necessary, as though savoring the tension in the air. Finally, he spoke, his tone dripping with dry humor.
-
“Well, he’s certainly... dedicated,” Verrück drawled, his voice carrying just enough edge to hint at his own disdain. His eyes flicked briefly to Nicholas before returning to Caspian, as though dismissing the older man’s presence entirely. “It’s admirable, really—trying so hard to hold everything together when it’s all bound to fall apart anyway. You’ve got to admire that kind of stubbornness… or at least pretend to.”
-
He shifted his weight, standing a little straighter as he glanced back toward the distant fence Nicholas seemed so intent on building. His smirk widened slightly, the corners of his mouth curling upward in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But hey, who am I to judge? If someone wants to waste their energy lugging rubble around, let them. Just means they’re too busy to bother us.”
-
With a casual shrug, Verrück turned his attention back to Caspian, the glint of dark humor still dancing in his expression. The world around them continued to move in its broken rhythm, but Verrück seemed entirely unbothered, as though the chaos was exactly where he belonged.
-
Before Verrück could follow up on his remark, a familiar sound broke through the tense atmosphere—a soft, uneven padding, accompanied by the faint rustle of debris being nudged aside. His sharp ears perked up, and his gaze shifted downward, scanning the broken ground below. The moment he spotted the scruffy, scrawny figure hobbling toward them, his smirk melted into something far softer, almost boyish in its excitement.
-
“Lump!” Verrück exclaimed, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic warmth as he crouched down and spread his arms wide. The German shepherd limped forward on three legs, his gait awkward but determined. Despite his bedraggled state—fur matted in places, ribs faintly visible beneath his scruffy coat—Lump’s tongue lolled out in a crooked grin, tail wagging furiously in uneven bursts.
-
The sight of the dog drew an audible laugh from Verrück, a rare sound that was genuine and free of sarcasm. He dropped to one knee as Lump reached him, the dog nudging his head against Verrück’s chest in an affectionate greeting. “You little rascal,” Verrück murmured, scratching behind Lump’s ears with both hands. “Where’ve you been hiding? Thought you got bored of me and ran off to find someone better.”
-
The dog let out a soft whine in response, nuzzling closer. Lump’s presence seemed to wash away some of Verrück’s usual edge, and for a brief moment, he looked entirely at ease. He ruffled the dog’s scruffy fur, his fingers brushing over the worn leather of the makeshift harness wrapped around Lump’s chest.
-
“Came at the right time, didn’t you?” Verrück continued, glancing up at Caspian with a wry grin. “Even Lump knows when the company gets stale.” His tone was teasing, but his affection for the dog was unmistakable.
-
Lump turned his head, fixing Caspian with a curious, mismatched gaze—one ear perking up, the other flopping lazily. The dog’s tail gave another wag, though it was slower this time, as if he were sizing up the new presence. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless,” Verrück said, though his grin turned sly. “Unless you’ve got snacks, in which case he’s your new best friend.”
-
Lump let out a low, contented huff before settling at Verrück’s feet, his thin frame curling up as if he’d finally found the safest place in the world. The dog’s calm presence seemed to anchor Verrück, though his sharp eyes soon flicked back to Caspian, the mischievous glint returning.
-
“So,” Verrück began, scratching Lump’s scruffy head absentmindedly. “Where were we? Oh, right—laughing at the futility of it all. Care to join us, Lump?”
Fall 
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Hurricane Moon: 
