towerofanimus | ☿ // point zero

Entry tags:

☿ // point zero

Characters: Waver and open!
Format: I'll try to match.
Summary: Professor Charisma does some exploring. And science. Magic science. ~~i have no self control so wow this got up quick~~
Warnings: None yet.

[dorm room 3-10]

[Sleep paralysis on its own was enough to put him on edge. Was this some kind of ill-conceived attack with magecraft? No, that wasn't likely--if it was and his would-be opponent had an ounce of sense in their heads, he'd be dead already. In the moments it took him to properly regain his senses, Waver ran through a list of hypothetical causes for this problem...each as unlikely as the last.]

[Finally, he was able to sit up and brush long, disheveled black hair from his face. Now that it occurred to him, Waver couldn't even remember having fallen asleep to begin with. Hadn't he only just been leaving a lecture hall in the Clock Tower? If he'd fainted, this didn't seem like any infirmary they had to his knowledge. As he considered the matter, Waver idly trailed a hand to the back of his own neck and froze. Though the collar's presence disturbed him, he could figure that out later. What caused him to halt in place wasn't the presence of something foreign, but the absence of something familiar.]

That's not possible. It's gone, how the hell can it possibly-- [He muttered under his breath for a second, double checking to be sure whatever it was (likely a necklace of some kind, from how he was acting) had actually gone missing.]

[One might find him shortly after that, rummaging through his trunk with some very determined sense of urgency.]

[floor eighty-one]

[Standing before the windows and looking skyward was one unfazed lecturer in a dark green suit, black hair tied in a long ponytail and sunglasses resting on top of his head. In his hands are a pen and small notebook, and every few minutes he pauses to take something down in chickenscratch handwriting.]

[floor twenty-five]

[Here, said ponytailed and sunglasses-wearing individual seems to be doing something a little strange. Namely, something with a case full of glass vials and liquids that might scream 'mad scientist'.]

[Or 'alchemist', if one knew better.]

[Whatever method he was using, Waver seemed to be analyzing a few specific flowers in the meadow, presumably to determine whether they were magical or supernatural in origin.]

[Judging by the frustrated look on his face? They're probably not.]

[floor three]

[A library; the natural habitat of clever people, especially this one in particular. He examined the shelves with a critical look, a small pile of books on the table nearby. Whatever he's actually looking for, it doesn't seem he's able to find it. He adjusted the sunglasses on his head as though doing so was some odd habit, scowling in faint aggravation.]

[anywhere else]

[Of course, anyone doing this much exploring is bound to run into monsters. Maybe he's on his own, or maybe he stopped to defend someone else. Whatever the case, he shifted into a fighting stance as though it were second nature and immediately moved to take down the enemy before him with swift, precise strikes.]

[When the monster had been taken down and the danger was momentarily avoided, Waver straightened up and did little more than dust off his dark green suit with a completely unfazed look.]

[Yeah. Totally a thing that happens every day, right?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[For all that Ryoji doubts himself, the boy is a quick learner. This is what Diarmuid is thinking about as he enters the meadow after one of their lessons. Since he has just been training someone, he's wearing his armor instead of the casual clothes he's taken to wearing lately. However, instead of looking as tired and sad as has become the norm, Diarmuid actually looks proud and no little bit excited.

It's nice to have a student again.

That look fades some when he arrives on the floor and notices the person working there. The excited look is replaced with one of confusion and slight anger.

The aging trick again? Tower, really?

Though, the hair is different, and he is pretty sure the adult Waver he had met during the experiment hadn't been wearing sunglasses perched on the top of his head. The sight actually makes Diarmuid smirk a little, breaking up his previous frown.

When he speaks, the anger is gone from his voice. Instead, if a person knows him well enough, they might recognize his tone as joking.]

Apparently the tower likes you, my friend. For good or for ill.

...

[Waver didn't turn around; in fact, he'd frozen solid. The currently empty vial he'd been holding dropped and cracked against the ground; some very distant part of his mind cursed himself and noted he'd have to fix that later. But never mind, there were more important things to focus on.]

[He stood up slowly, turning around with a look of unrestrained and complete shock on his face. His mind was racing at untold speeds--confirmed theory: it was vaguely, distantly possible at about .01% likelihood for Servants to be here one way or another. Contradiction: there was no way--no possible way for a dead and resummoned Servant to recognize a former Master. Support: his Diarmuid was definitely, absolutely dead. Conclusion: this was not possible.]

...Well, that settles it. I'm dead.

[Conclusion: delusion so extreme as to be during mortal injury.]

Look, I'm not going to complain about it, but I'd at least like to know how it happened. Were Tohsaka and Edelfelt in the same room for more than two minutes, was that it? Because if so I don't envy whoever has to rebuild how much of the Clock Tower was destroyed.

[Diarmuid blinks in surprise. Tohsaka? He only has vague memories of that name from the war, and Edelfelt is a name he doesn't know at all. What is Waver talking about?]

I know the tricks the tower plays are cruel and may make one wish for death, but I assure you, you are not dead.

[Not that death is a permanent escape here anyway.]

Why do I get the feeling you're not the Waver I know aged up again...

[He paused at that, and it took a conscious effort not to step back in surprise.]

You really don't remember-...wait. [There was something different to Lancer's overall demeanor even without taking his reaction into account. Something faint, which Waver couldn't even begin to place a name to.]

...you aren't the same one either, are you?

[Second Magic could go fuck itself.]

[Ah..that answered that. Not the same. A new arrival.]

As the one you knew? Probably not. The administrators claim each and every one of us are from a different world no matter how similar the events may seem. Case in point, there is another version of you in the tower. He is much younger than you are now and comes from a time right after the end of the 4th Grail War. Not long ago, the administrators ran an experiment on us that aged most of us. He ended up looking much like you do now and that is why I was so confused. My apologies.

[He pauses, a sudden sadness filling his eyes.]

It is a cruel trick, them bringing you here when they did. If you had come just a short time earlier, you could have seen Rider again.

You...you idiot, what're you babbling about?

[Waver's demeanor visibly changed, calm reaction turning to the kind of thing he might have displayed ten years beforehand. He didn't quite discard the information on his younger self so much as carefully filed it away before countering in an irritated voice]

Why are you talking like I summoned Rider--no, wait, is that what the other one did? [Even having dropped the collected El-Melloi persona, he was at least capable of logic.]

Yes, didn't you?

[Confusion enters his eyes. Diarmuid understands Second Magic to a degree because of information from both the Grail and the one time his master had gone off on a tangent during one of his rants...

...and remembering that rant makes a spike of pain shoot through Diarmuid's chest. He just barely keeps himself from reaching up and rubbing at the place where he had been force to stab himself. He can't keep himself from reflexively curling his hand into a fist at his side, though.

Back to Second Magic. Most worlds have constants. Things that always happen. With how much Rider had meant to the Waver he knew, could he really have summoned someone else in a different world?]

You...didn't, did you?

I summoned you, idiot!

[Waver took a deep breath to calm himself down, adjusting his sunglasses and frowning--more at himself than at Lancer.]

I'm going to regret this, I just know I am, but...Tell me who your Master was.

Me? But how? I was his replacement... The one who wasn't good enough...

[Diarmuid falls silent for several moments just trying to wrap his head around the idea of someone else summoning him. Especially, this someone else. The one who he had wished had summoned him more than once since he had met him again in the tower.

His eyes widen and for a moment fill with panic. Had his foolish wish somehow bought this Waver here?]

I-I'm sorry!

[Diarmuid drops to his knees in front of Waver, just barely keeping the panic from his voice. It still shows clearly in his eyes.]

This is my fault! I'm the one who wished he had summoned me instead of Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi. I never thought... I...

Lancer--Diarmuid, don't-...

[He'd almost forgotten how difficult Lancer could really be to deal with sometimes. Had it been that long? Waver knelt down as well, carefully putting his hands on the knight's shoulders.]

Calm down. [His voice was quiet, a hesitant smile on his face.] You still apologize too much, you know.

[Diarmuid almost continues his apologies despite Waver's words, but there is something in the other man's tone of voice and touch that stops him. Soothes him.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to try and calm himself. Only once he has settled down does he speak again, but he doesn't open his eyes. It's almost like he thinks he will see something on Waver's face that will contradict that calming feeling.]

I...I do. People here tell me that all the time, but I can't help it. I am sorry. Ever since things...ended for me in the war, I haven't been...right. The tower has only fed on that and twisted me until I sometimes don't even know what I am anymore.

[Diarmuid lows his head, his next words much softer.]

I'm sorry. There is no way I can be the person you are looking for.

No...you're not.

[Waver spoke with conviction to his words, though the tone remained unusually gentle.]

You don't have the same memories or experiences as he did. You don't remember how hard we fought together, or anything like that.

[He sighed, but the smallest smile broke out across his face.]

...That's fine. I don't care what you do or don't remember--'Diarmuid Ua Duibhne' is my friend before anything else, no matter what world he comes from. I don't know what exactly happened to you and I'm sure I'll want to punch Kayneth's teeth down his throat when I find out...but I really don't care if you're the exact Diarmuid I'm looking for or not. You're still Diarmuid, and that's all that matters.

[Laughing to himself, Waver quickly tried to cover up the rare show of actual emotion.]

This isn't fair...I wasn't even supposed to be able to see you again, and now that I have the first thing I do is act like an idiot.

It's all right. I think we are all idiots here.

[The gentle words finally coax Diarmuid to open his eyes and he smiles slightly.]

I should tell you about the fool thing the younger you and I did not long ago. We had the best of intentions, but it backfired horribly. He just wanted to carry on Rider's wishes, but neither he nor I have Rider's charisma. It didn't go well. I'm just glad no one has taken their anger out on him. I was worried for a while, but with everything that happened in February people seem to have forgotten about it.

I'm listening, Diarmuid. Besides, he's used to being called a screwup, trust me.

It wasn't really his fault. It was my idea, but he posted it, so everyone just yelled at him.

[Diarmuid signs and runs a hand through his hair, debating on where to start.]

While Rider was here, he had been working on setting up a meeting between the servants and masters in the tower so that they could discuss their worries, problems and stuff like that. He also wanted everyone to agree to not fight each other since there is no Grail here. Of course, as you can probably guess there were those who didn't like it, but because of Rider being...well Rider...he got most people to agree to come.

That was the month I arrived, by the way, but during that month the tower did one of the things it randomly does and sent Rider home. Waver didn't want to let everything go, though and when I heard he was still going to try and work out something, I offered to help. Since Rider wasn't here to get everyone to behave at an actual meeting, we agreed to delivery a survey to the servants and masters in the tower so they could tell us the things we would have talked about at the meeting.

However, not everyone has a mailbox so I suggested we post it on the network as well. No one was forced to fill it out in full or in part, but when people saw it on the network, they went crazy talking about how he was spilling secrets about the war and putting others in danger.

[Diarmuid bows his head again, this time with shame in his eyes.]

I...didn't approve of all the questions he asked, but since people could always just not answer what they didn't want to, I didn't say anything. The war is over for me back home. Kayneth saw to that, so I have made no secret of who I am here. I just never really stopped to think that most others aren't like me.

...[Waver did little more than sigh at that. People really were idiots--himself included.]

Well...what's done is done, I guess. No point in either of you beating yourselves up over what you can't change. I'm not going to say it was a smart idea, but I don't really see why anyone should really care at this point.

[Diarmuid nods, though there is still shame in his eyes.]

Yes, I know. I am just glad that everyone seems to have forgotten for now. He should be safe, and I am going to try to make sure neither of us make such a mistake again. Too many people do still seem to care even though they really shouldn't. Our worlds are gone...

[He pauses and then points over toward the tubes Waver was using before in an attempt to change the subject.]

What were you working on when I came in? That doesn't look like any kind of magic I'm familiar with.

I was trying to determine if there were any magic traces in this floor--so far, I've come up with nothing.

[Looking faintly embarrassed (or was that some kind of nostalgia?) Waver crossed his arms and glanced around.] It's...just basic alchemy. Nothing to write home about, so to speak.

Edited (I CAN'T SPELL) 2013-03-07 06:00 (UTC)

Why not?

[Diarmuid stands and walks over to look at the things Waver had been working with.]

I mean, why don't you think it's an important thing? Anything that might help you discover something new about this place without expending a lot of energy is a good thing.

[He picks up the tube that Waver had dropped and turns it over in his hand.]

I'm sorry this broke. There is a workshop on the 15th floor. I don't know if there would be more of these, but maybe you can find something to fix it there?

Edited (And apparently, I can't icon...) 2013-03-07 06:06 (UTC)

I can probably fix it later--if not, I think there's a couple extra ones in here.

[He sighed, smiling faintly at some recollection.]

...I'm not a very good magus, Diarmuid. I can only use amateur techniques like this to determine the kind of thing a normal magus would discern without a problem. I've only ever been praised for my techniques once--but I think that was enough for me to live with it. Doesn't mean I have to be thrilled about it, though.

[Diarmuid shakes his head, a stern look entering his eyes.]

There is nothing wrong with using all avenues available to you or being flexible when it comes to gathering information. You never can tell what will happen next in this place. We all lost an hour once only to wake up and find this place had doubled in size. Who knows what else might happen? And if that is the case, it only makes sense to save your true power for when you really need it. If this lets you do that, then why not? It is the smart thing to do. Wearing yourself out in this place unnecessarily can be fatal not just to yourself, but to those you care about.

[Trust him, he knows.]

Though, those who didn't recognize your power were fools. Whoever it was who praised you, he is the only one who should matter. He obviously had sense where the others didn't. Often, those with great power are overlooked because people forget that it's not how much power you have but how you use it.

... [Waver laughed at that, so earnestly it probably would have been terrifying to people that knew him to be nothing but calm nearly all the time. He started to calm down after a moment, though the smile was still present on his face.]

You're right--he is the only one that matters to me. He's the only one who ever really praised my abilities or stood up for me when I was threatened. There's no one else I'm more grateful to have met.

I'm just glad I finally got you to say something good about yourself, idiot.

[Diarmuid just blinks for several minutes confused by what is so funny. When Waver finally stops laughing and speaks, Diarmuid can't help but laugh too. Once he stops, a smile, though one that is ever so slightly sad, settles onto his face.]

I am so glad that there is a world where some version of me was able to have a good master--one who could actually fulfill his wish. I don't know how your war ended, but I am sure it was a happier end than mine. The fact that you can find joy in your memories of him is proof of that.

[Diarmuid brings his hand to his chest, falling into thought for a moment.]

Waver, how connected do you think all these alternate worlds are? I mean, no one really can say what the Throne of Heroes actually is, right? Might it be a part of all of those worlds?

In concept, I think it would have to be--it's supposed to exist outside of time isn't it? I'd guess it could theoretically exist outside space too. But in practice...hell, who knows? At this rate I'd believe just about anything.

[He watched Diarmuid for a second or two before continuing, sounding curious.]

Why do you ask?

Floor 25

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