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

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?

[Diarmuid nods, taking a moment to organize his thoughts. He's not a magus, after all. A lot of this stuff is completely foreign to him. He would never have known so much if Kayneth hadn't gone off on him that night.]

He told me...one night during the war after he was so badly injured. He told me how I was nothing but the copy of a soul--that all the pride and all the honor I held so close to my heart was nothing but a pale imitation of another man's feelings. They weren't my own. How did I dare flaunt them like I did? Preach of them like I did?

[Diarmuid pauses a moment, closing his eyes. Thinking of that conversion still hurts so much.]

He was angry. Probably scared too. I didn't hold it against him, but because of that, I died knowing I was nothing and came here knowing that same thing. Yet, just recently we learned more about what our existences here are.

[His face pales, and his voice drops to a whisper.]

There's a good chance I'm actually the real soul pulled from the Throne of Heroes as the world was destroyed. The reason I remember the war is because it happen when the copy was on its way back to be erased. But with no world and no Throne left, there was nothing to keep the copy away from the original and so they merged and both ended up here.

If I am the original and the Throne is beyond both time and space, does that mean part of your Diarmuid is in me too? Is that why I've always felt so drawn to you in whatever form I'm met you in?

...oh, shut up.

[Waver scowled faintly and put an arm around Lancer's shoulders, immediately pulling him into an awkward hug--in part to reassure the knight and to reassure himself that Lancer wasn't just going to vanish like some sick delusion.]

Kayneth was a vindictive, self-absorbed, arrogant idiot, respect for the dead be damned. I can tell you right now he wouldn't know what he was talking about even in his right mind. You're wasting your time putting any stock into what he's said--and believe me, I know.

Maybe you're the original, maybe you're a copy. Who cares? I don't know why you say you're drawn to me; maybe it's because I'm not Kayneth in any sense whatsoever, think about that? Unlike him, I at least actually give a damn about people other than myself.

[Waver ground his teeth together in frustration before merely sighing, leaning his head on Lancer's shoulder.]

Goddamnit you can be stupid sometimes. Why are you worrying about something like that...copy or original, you're still Diarmuid. You're just as real now as I am. Shouldn't that be the last word on it?

I-I don't know.

[Diarmuid pauses in an effort to steady his own voice and push the helplessness out of it.]

These things... Servants aren't suppose to exist long enough to have to think about them, but here I am having to do exactly that. And after what he did to me...

[He draws in a deep breath and reluctantly steps out of the hug so he can look Waver in the face as he speaks. It's the only way he will be able to make himself say this.]

He made me kill myself in the middle of an honorable duel with Saber so that he could save his own life, even though I have heard since then he still died before the war ended. When I realized what happened, I snapped. I raged at everyone and the world. I curse the Grail...I cursed everyone.

[He shakes his head, but despite the hopelessness in his tone of voice, there is determination in his eyes.]

I'm not a knight anymore. Not after all of that, but that is fine as long as I can find what I am now. That is why I am thinking about things so much, but it's hard. There is so much I don't understand about how the world works now, that it is hard to find a new way to define myself.

...How the hell is that your fault?! No, forget it, even if I tried to convince you you'd blame yourself anyway.

[Frustrated, Waver pressed a hand to his head and collected himself for a moment--otherwise he'd most likely snap in a way they'd both regret.]

Don't do this again, Lancer. Your whole 'I'm not a hero' thing, I mean. Look, even I couldn't deal with Kayneth forever. Somebody like you having to answer to him...I don't blame you for just snapping, least of all after he did something so...so completely unforgivable--

[Another pause. It was all Waver could do to not distract himself fantasizing about breaking several of Kayneth's ribs with his own Mystic Code.]

...You're a knight. My knight, and you always will be. If you want to be something else, fine. But don't you dare start to deny what I know for a fact is true even now; I won't have anyone speak poorly about my Lancer. Especially not speaking of yourself.

I'm sorry...

[The words slip out before Diarmuid can stop them and as soon as they do, a horrified look enters his eyes. He puts a hand out in front of himself hoping to stave off an angry outburst from the other man.]

I don't mean that....well I do, but I'm trying not to be so...so weak anymore. I'm trying not to blame myself. You aren't the only one to tell me some of this. So many others have said the same thing. It's just so hard. He made me feel like I was nothing. Like I shouldn't even be breathing. I think it's safe to say you know me--know how those things hurt. He stripped away all of my pride and all of my honor. I let it go so I could remain loyal and then he spat on that as well.

[Diarmuid pauses. This train of thought is getting him no where. What had Hidetoshi told him not that long ago? Something about once you recognize the rut, how important it is not to let yourself dig it deeper?

He looks up at Waver, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. To hear someone say he's still a knight and will always be so to them is more the he had ever hoped to hear again. Might that be something he can use to dig himself free?]

Do you really mean that? Even though I am so messed up right now?

...Don't look at me like that. I'm not him, so I'm not going to be angry at you for acting like a normal human.

[Waver sighed; god help Kayneth if he ever appeared here. He'd never killed someone, but damn if it wasn't a tempting concept by now.]

I wouldn't lie, Diarmuid. Least of all to you; if I say you're still my knight, you're still my knight.

Thank you.

[Diarmuid shuts his eyes for a moment, pushing away and sorting out all of the emotion swirling around inside of him. He doesn't know if there is any way he will ever be able to fully express to Waver how good his words make him fell, but he is going to try. Even if it takes forever he is going to try.]

I will be glad when I can learn to trust again. I really will. I miss it greatly.

[He shakes his head and then in an effort to steer the topic to something more pleasant so he has the chance to finish sorting out his thoughts, he asks a question that has been on his mind ever since he first saw the other man.]

Why the sunglasses?

...You can trust me. I know we basically just met, so that probably sounds crazy. But I'm not going to turn my back on you--least of all now, any idiot can tell you obviously need somebody on your side.

[He reached up at the question, adjusting them what seemed to be automatically.]

These? They were...kind of yours. Couldn't really stand to get rid of them, so I just decided to hold on to them instead. ...Why, do they look stupid or something?

N-no!

[He's not ignoring Waver's other words so much as he is letting them go for now. If he speaks about how good they make him feel--how they make him feel a confidence he hasn't felt in a long long time--he just might start crying.]

It's just... What do you mean they were mine? Why would I wear such a thing?

Well, you were uneasy about going into Fuyuki in broad daylight normally, so I found these to cover up that mark of yours. They're sure as hell not Mystic Eye Killers, but it seemed like they worked alright.

Really? Something so simple worked?

[He reaches out almost as if he wants to touch them, but stops himself short.]

I never would have thought of that. Not when so many tried and failed in my day to find a way to deal with it. I don't know how they do it, but here in the tower it is inactive most of the time, though it does activate randomly and without me being able to tell it has until those affected start acting strangely.

[He took them off and held them out, sounding casual.] We were pretty careful--I wouldn't push it, but they worked as a quick temporary fix. You can have them back if you want them.

[Diarmuid shakes his head, his smile gentle.]

Thank you, but I have the feeling they are worth more to you than me. If the tower wishes my curse to act as it does, it will probably do so with or without the glasses. Otherwise, why let me keep any of its power at all? I have been luck so far. It has only affected two people and they both were able to overcome it in a short amount of time. I have always thought will to have something to do with how strongly a person is affected and from what I have seen here, that is most certainly the case.

Really, that's all? That isn't too bad. [Sounding pleased, Waver put the glasses back on his head--maybe he did look kind of stupid, but whatever.]

I'm glad to hear that much hasn't been too bad for you.

Yes, I have been lucky in that respect. And others...

[A happy, almost childish look crosses his face.]

Did I ever tell you about my childhood hero? The person who inspired me to become the hero I did?

That's...Cu Chulainn, right? I think we talked about that once.

Yes, he's here. A version of him anyway. He's even my roommate. I'm not sure how that happened.

[Diarmuid laughs, shaking his head.]

He's not exactly what I expected or what the stories said, but he is still a good man even if he is not doing so well right now.

[Some of the joy disappears off of his face.]

The same random thing that sent Rider home several months ago sent Cu Chulainn's master away from here just about a week ago. He keeps saying that he failed her even when he had no control over the situation. I wish I knew better how to help him.

[Diarmuid looks away with a nervous laugh, as if he has just realized something.]

Wow...that probably sounds familiar to you, right? Someone blaming themselves for something that isn't their fault. Is that a Lancer class skill I'm just not aware of?

Heh...you know, at this rate it just might be. Probably comes packaged with the miserable luck.

[Giving the most reassuring smile he could manage, Waver put a hand on Lancer's shoulder.]

It's good to see you again, Diarmuid.

Edited 2013-03-07 09:04 (UTC)

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