Lord El-Melloi II [AU] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fionnuisce) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-03-06 09:29 pm
fionnuisce) wrote in towerofanimus2013-03-06 09:29 pm
☿ // 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?]
Format: I'll try to match.
Summary: Professor Charisma does some exploring. And science. Magic science.
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?]
no subject
[Waver shook his head, disregarding all thoughts on the corrupt Grail or the disaster he'd seen it part of.]
Even if it turns out you can't use it, I guess teaching a little about it couldn't hurt.
no subject
No, this is not the War of Masters and Servants. I have met another Servant. His name is Lancelot. He said what mattered was fighting with honor, even if there was no wish.
[Sephiroth is pleased about this idea. Fighting with honor. It's very familiar, for some reason.]
So you will teach me?
[Please say yes.]
no subject
no subject
What sort of things do you do with your magic?
no subject
no subject
[Well, that's a little too bad about the no fire and lightning, though. Sephiroth nods, however, still interested and not really disappointed. Although he'd like to be able to do that himself.] I could do that, if I had Fire and Lightning Materia.
[Then something occurs to him.] Maybe the other Sephiroth has them. There is an older me here.
no subject
no subject
We could ask our other selves, but I have not seen mine in some time. If I do see him, I will ask.
[He's not sure quite what to think about his other self, though...]
When can we begin?