[open] // it gives meaning to each moment

[fionnuisce]

Characters: Waver and open
Setting: Floor 3
Format: Either
Summary: Some people get depressed, others get angry.
Warnings: Standard Individuation warnings plus one for Waver's terrible language.

[Waver had generally ignored the four shadows that had been trailing behind him at varying distances the past few days. There was a lot on his mind, and some spectral nonsense ranked very low on his list of priorities.]

[So it caught him completely off guard when one spoke. Not just spoke, spoke in a voice he knew. As haughty and disdainful as it had been ten years before, the words spoken caused the lecturer to freeze in place and drop the book he'd been holding.]

['Blood determines a mage's strength.']

[He spun around, automatically scowling and ready to throw a punch right into the speaker's smug face...but the one he knew to have owned that voice was nowhere in sight. Just the same shadows, yet now one seemed to have shifted. It was far from a perfect silhouette, and yet it carried the air of that superior stance, that arrogant and cold magus Waver had hated so much--]

['Is this what your precious 'hard work' results in, Waver Velvet? You're nothing. You were destined to be nothing. Now the entire world is nothing--and it's entirely your fault. A proper magus could have prevented all this. If a real aristocrat had taken this title, he could have saved the world long before it was in ruins--not scramble to repair what no longer exists.']

[What? This was some kind of sick joke, right? Was this supposed to be some kind of poltergeist that spoke in his predecessor's voice? Waver staggered backwards, leaning against the bookshelf as though bracing himself against some form of attack.]

Really, this is it? Now I'm starting to think your illusions aren't even trying to look real.

[A second among the shadows spoke up at Waver's sarcastic dismissal, using the lazily spoken tones of a teenage boy.]

['Geez...I must be as stupid as you think. I really thought you could do anything, Professor. But I guess I couldn't expect a third-generation magus to save us. I bet you're glad to be rid of me, yeah?']

[Green eyes narrowed and turned cold. Don't argue with it. he told himself. Now you know this isn't real. With whatever ironclad logic he'd used to make that deduction, Waver did little more than shrug, pick up the book he'd dropped, and turn back to the shelf to disregard the shadows once again.]

['Don't you dare ignore me, Velvet.' The third was the voice of a teenage girl, her voice prideful and cold as only aristocracy could be. 'You let me die. I gave you everything and you let me die-!']

[Waver had largely tuned out the guilt-tripping poltergeists by now. He knew damn well that listening much longer would only hurt. Merely registering those last two voices had caused a distinct pain to settle in his chest with no sign of leaving. Oh, well. it would be over soon enough, just like all the other experiments. He'd just have to keep busy until--]

['I thought you better than this, Master.']

[If Kayneth's voice had left a crack in his metaphorical armor, it was that one which broke it completely. The sharp and cold shell of Lord El-Melloi's persona had shattered in no more than seven words, and for a moment Waver Velvet was very, very vulnerable.]

['You were the one for whom I would have done even the impossible. And this is how you repay everything I sacrificed? An entire world is dead and ruined while you alone survive. I thought you the kind to lay aside your own life for those more deserving, but I was wrong. You're a coward now just as you always were.']

Dia--

[No. Waver stopped sharply, cutting himself and his current train of thought off entirely. This was not real. He'd determined that mere moments beforehand, so clearly Jason or the tower itself had brought out the heavy artillery. His one real weak point.]

[Most in this situation would give up, he knew. Scream, cry, argue or beg forgiveness in the face of such pressure. With the hatred of Kayneth's words that still lingered in his mind a decade later...with the guilt of letting down Eskardos and Ismene both...and with the pain of his only friend calling him a coward, it would have been easy to break.]

[But Waver Velvet did not break. He snapped.]

Will you piss off--?! I am not in the fucking mood for this, so get lost and let me carry on with my day or I'll call a goddamned exorcist, do you comprehend that?!

[Completely enraged for the first time in longer than he cared to remember, Waver snarled in a voice he didn't even fully register as his own.]

If you really wanted me to believe this nonsense, you'd have Eskardos babbling like a brainless idiot instead of stringing coherent sentences! And honestly, none of you could even cobble together some form of projection? Our big threat this month is talking goddamned smoke?

[He folded his arms, tone cooling from 'fury' to 'critical sarcasm' as was his typical coping mechanism. Get angry and then belittle whatever made him angry to hell and back.]

I'm insulted that you thought it would be that easy. All four of you get out of my sight before I really get pissed off that you're talking so much in a library.

[Stopping after that frustrated outburst, Waver shut his book with a snap and placed it back on the shelf, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands and walking straight past the shadows like they'd never been there to begin with.]

[Later, he'd wonder if he just shouted eldritch abominations into submission. But for now, all four shadows trailing just behind him, there was someone he needed to talk to.]

Comments

[marriedthebloke]

[Sola-ui had stood by and watched the magus give his little rant. The cries of the shadow children in her mind had already made her mood highly irritable. In fact, she was all but ready to begin ranting herself before Waver had started up with his tirade.]

What in the world are you even yelling at?

[fionnuisce]

What are you, blind? [He scowled, waving a hand at the figures behind him.] These damned things, obviously.

[marriedthebloke]

['Fool. No wonder Mother and Father chose me to bear our family's creast']

[She rubs at her temples.]

I don't think they were listening.

[fionnuisce]

They've stopped their incessant noise, so I'd call that a start.

[marriedthebloke]

Perhaps yours have.

[She stares at her chattering shadow children.]

Mine are as loud as ever.

[fionnuisce]

Then maybe you should tell them off.

[marriedthebloke]

[She stares at the man, and then at the shadow children, and then compares her desire to not embarrass herself with her need for peace.]

...No thank you. Unlike you, I'm required to maintain some sort of decorum.

[stitchedupbodyguard]

[Veronica herself was starting to grow tired of her shadows. The three of them trailed her, speaking in her sister's - and Adorea's - voices. She simply tried to ignore them most of the time, and even tried to get away from them a few times. The outburst from Waver made her pause.]

Well then, you certainly showed them.

[fionnuisce]

They've shut up for now, at least. [He'd call that a victory even if they were still lingering.]

[stitchedupbodyguard]

I know what you mean. These fakers behind me wont leave me alone.

[We're real, Veronica. This is because of you.]

Pipe down the lot of you.

[fionnuisce]

Just ignore them. All they're spouting is utter nonsense and empty guilt trips.

[stitchedupbodyguard]

I'm trying, but they don't seem to ever get the hint.

[She tugs a bit at her collar.]

Other are taking them much worse. I've seen them messing with children.

[fionnuisce]

I'm not surprised. This place has a habit of being less than kind to people in general.

[oathshackledbird]

[He thought he had been spared this round. He had no shadows following him and so, for the first two days, Diarmuid had spent as much time as he could helping to comfort his friends after the slew of anonymous presents and giving them courage to deal with whatever the odd shadow children were. Then, late on Tuesday--or perhaps it had even been Wednesday morning at that point--one of the odd shadows had finally found its way to him. It didn't speak and so he ignored it like he had advised so many others to.

Ignoring it becomes much harder once it starts speaking, though.]

Never thought I would see the day I would find myself agreeing with him. Considering the state of our world, he was right. You are damned useless.

[Hearing those words in that voice is the most painful thing Diarmuid has ever felt. More painful than driving his own spear through his chest. More painful than knowing Fionn wasn't going to save him no matter what anyone else said...

A tremor runs through his body, but before Diarmuid can turn and say anything in response, the voice continues.]

How the god-damned hell am I suppose to dismantle the Grail like this? The answer is I can't you bloody, Idiot! None of us can do anything because you are too busy playing human to fix anything!

[Diarmuid turns toward the shadow child, but before he can try to defend himself, the voice's next words steal his ability to argue away.]

Rider would have fixed this by now. He's a real hero. There's a reason I swore myself to him and not you...

[Instead of speaking, Diarmuid pivots on his foot and begins to walk away from the shadow. The walk soon becomes a run even though Diarmuid doesn't exactly know where he's going. Unconsciously, he heads toward his anchor--Waver, the one that isn't cursing at him and blaming him for everything that has happened. Even though he has left the shadow far behind by the time he makes it to the library, Diarmuid swears he can still hear it as if it was standing next to him.

Diarmuid stumbles over to a chair that is a bit away from the more populated areas of the library and collapses into it. Once he does, he drops his head into his hands and tries to pull himself together. Shortly, he will go find Waver. He knows his friend isn't too far away--in fact, for a moment, Diarmuid thinks he hears his voice for real--but first he needs a short time to try and get the pain he's feeling from the shadow's words under control.

At least now he understands just why Yotsuba had been so upset and hard to calm when he had talked to her before...]

[fionnuisce]

[Now-silent shadows in tow, Waver nearly walked right past Diarmuid while forcing himself to ignore his eldritch companions. Judging by the state of him, Diarmuid had heard one thing or another himself. Taking a second to collect himself, Waver sat down in a chair across from him, leaning casually on the table that separated them.]

...So who was it for you?

[His voice was steady though his hands and shoulders carried an uneasy tremble to them, Waver sighing a thin cloud of smoke as he glanced to his own four shadows.]

[oathshackledbird]

[It takes Diarmuid several moments to look up. Once he does, relief crosses his face, though it's almost lost to the pain in his eyes. He laughs bitterly, before finally speaking.]

It hurts, you know. Hearing you say how much better Rider was than me. Even though I know that is how it was on my world, it still hurts...

[fionnuisce]

['You replaced me with him. How could a traitor have saved the world at all?']

[Waver's hand tensed and curled into a fist against the table, but he gave no other sign he'd heard anything at all.]

Just because I contracted him in your world doesn't make either of you 'better' than the other, don't say something so ridiculous. Listening to them at all is just going to cause trouble.

['And yet the third-generation failure doesn't have a solution to the problem, as per the standard. Shame I'm not around to steal anything else from, you might have found something of use.']

[oathshackledbird]

I-I know, but try telling that to my heart. It's not listening very well today.

[Diarmuid's eyes flick away from Waver for a moment when he notices movement, then they narrow when he realizes the cause of that motion. A lone shadow figure makes its way over to them, stopping not far away from Diarmuid.]

How could I forget? There is one thing you do well. Run.

[There is a soft hiss as Diarmuid draws in a breath through his teeth. Instead of responding to the shadow, though, he forces his attention back to Waver and his 'friends.']

Which one is your version of me?

[Diarmuid doesn't need to ask if one of them is Waver's version of him. Not with how shaken his friend is.]

[fionnuisce]

It doesn't matter. Because this isn't real. [Waver replied in short and clipped sentences,fist shaking with how tense he was.]

They're just screwing with our heads, and that's all that matters. We're being guilt-tripped for shit that isn't our fault and that we never asked for.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[Lancelot is like a shadow himself, drifting along the Hallways when not trailing his Broken Master.
He does what he can for the man, though Shadows of his own is close upon him, nearly clinging to his back, murmuring all the while.
[Save me-- you never saved me, I was dead from the moment you touched me-- damned us both, false knight-- false heart.You bring only ruin as your gift.]
[Loved you, my brother in arms, my first servant, my knight-- traitor. Murderer. I called for you, at the last-- you failed me, failed your king.]
Under this onslaught, Lancelot appears a little pale, but steady. These words, and others worse still, he hears in his sleep-- without the enchanted aid of the Tower.

Passing through, he hears the voice of Waver Velvet, raised to a shout.
The man seems so distracted as to be unaware of his presence. Approaching the Magus from behind, Lancelot lays a hand on the man's shoulder.
At first glance, the Black Knight appears to be wearing a oddly showy, red and white pocket-square in the breast of his dark jacket. It is in fact the "gift" Lancelot received in the post-- a handkerchief stained with Guinevere's blood.

Waver Velvet. Are you well?

[fionnuisce]

[Waver went rigid at the touch, relaxing only slightly when he realized it wasn't a threat. What a question that was...if he didn't know for a fact other shadows were sure to be speaking to people, Waver would have thought himself completely insane.]

[As it was, insanity might almost have been preferable.]

...I'm alright, thanks. I probably sound like a damned lunatic, but it's nothing.

(apologies: out of town/family funeral)

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[A ghost of a smile flits across Lancelot's face, a trick of the light.]
I am familiar with both Lunacy and Nothing.
You are not Mad, and unless I am mistaken, that which torments you is not Nothing.

We are all of us Haunted-- at least for the moment.
Tell me, if it is not too secret a thing, who is it that speaks to you?

(it's okay!)

[fionnuisce]

[Well, that was some twisted form of comfort, Waver had to admit.]

At the moment it's Kayneth, the tenth head of the Archibald family, one of my students, and Diarmuid. What about you?

[chevalier_mal_fet]

My King, who names me Traitor and Murderer-- and my Queen, who lays her Ruin, our Ruin, upon my shoulders.
[The words seem commonplace to Lancelot. He pauses, giving what is almost a rueful quirk of a smile.]
They are both correct, of course.

Perhaps this is why they do not try me so, these Shadows. I have heard these Voices, these Words, in my Mind when I lived as a Man. They are unwelcome, truly, but they are familiar to me.

No doubt yours judge you cruelly or unfairly.
Do you speak of Diarmuid ua Duibhne as you know him here?

[fionnuisce]

That's the general idea of them, yes. I'm rather used to being spoken of poorly, so ignoring them is no impossible thing.

[Even though he said that, Waver seemed particularly troubled by Lancelot's question.]

Not exactly--this is the one I summoned originally.

['The one you replaced.']