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'm a lecturer at the Clock Tower. I've spent the last ten years researching; teaching myself to fight, trying to improve my own magecraft.

[Waver shrugged as though it was really not much to write home about.]

Actually, I've been planning a few things for a while now. I want to change that world that values blood heritage over everything else, convince them that such things are irrelevant, and break down everything that people like him stand for.

[He suddenly looked very serious as he spoke, carrying himself a little straighter and with a measure of determined pride.]

And...I want to destroy the Holy Grail.

Edited 2013-03-08 04:37 (UTC)

[Diarmuid nods as Waver speaks. To hear that Waver wants to change these things makes him very proud of the man. It is a large task and one that will take time, but he has every faith that Waver can do it.

He can't help but be stunned by Waver's last statement, though. Not because he disagrees with it, but because he never thought he would hear of a magus who wanted to do such a thing. He didn't even think someone as mold breaking Waver would want to do such a thing.]

Can you do that? Can you really do that? Really stop others from being hurt and used like I have been? Like so many other servants have?

I don't know. Even if I pull it off--and odds are I'll need help from someone like Tohsaka--I'm probably risking a Sealing Designation. Even so, I'm not just going to leave things as they are. If I'm able to stop anyone else from suffering or dying needlessly, it's a risk I'm willing to take.

...I don't like the system of Masters and Servants. Magi summon great heroes and legends into a position where they're expected to be subservient? Even with Command Spells, it's suicidal. Servant and Master should be able to stand on equal ground, since one can't exist in a war without the other.

The two of us...we got as far as we did because we weren't arguing every single step of the way. And I know I'm not like other magi, so I can't imagine how many Servants and Masters conflicted and suffered, or even died stupidly.

I don't want that to happen anymore, Diarmuid. No wish on even an uncorrupted Grail is worth it.

I am so proud of you. If more magi were like you--understood like you do--things would be so different. Heroes wouldn't mind helping out. But now? Just imagine if servants knew going into a Grail War how things would end for them. It would be chaos. Who would want to fight and die for a wish they won't even be allowed to remember unless they find a way to stay in the world and not return to the Throne after the war ends?

[Diarmuid pauses, a sad look entering his eyes.]

Is it true then? That the Grail was corrupt even during the time of the 4th War?

[He'd heard about the Grail being corrupt, of course, but there had always been part of him that held out hope that maybe it wasn't universally true, that what they had fought and died for hadn't been a lie.]

[Waver opened his mouth to reply, but for a moment nothing came out. Diarmuid was...proud of him? Everything he was, everything he'd tried to be was something he'd become in the vain hope he'd be able to hear those words again. Of course Waver's actions were for the sake of what he thought was right as well, but...all the same, he'd hoped what was 'right' by his perspective were the actions of one Diarmuid could have truly taken pride in him for.]

I...yes, I...think so.

[Fumbling for a moment or two, Waver quickly latched on to the second matter at hand.]

The night the war ended, I saw what looked like Archer's Noble Phantasm being activated, but there was something else. Some kind of thing I'm not even sure how to describe, and it was that thing more than Archer that seemed like it would burn Fuyuki to the ground. Luckily it didn't spread that far, but...as impossible as it seems, I'm almost certain that was something created from the Grail itself.

[A gentle smile crosses Diarmuid's face. It's a little odd to be smiling so much with how unsettled he's been lately, but he doesn't mind. He has a feeling that now that Waver is here, he will be doing it a lot more often.]

Just remember that I don't lie about these kinds of things. If I say I am proud, then I am.

[And he is sure that the Diarmuid Waver had known would feel the exact same way.

Waver's next words make him far less happy, though and he has to take in a deep breath before speaking.]

So unless the winner's wish was to destroy that much of the city through those means-which I highly doubt--something must have been wrong.

...I had really hoped what I learned here wasn't true. That everything we had been fighting for wasn't a lie. Did they know? Did the magi know and still put us through all of that pain and suffering just on the off chance they could still get their wish somehow?

I seriously doubt it. I didn't know, and past assumptions and guesswork I'm still not entirely positive that it's true. And even if magi don't exactly shy away from bloodshed, I'm not sure they would all be scrambling for something that could kill them as well as anyone else.

I doubt this is going to help, but I don't think it was all for nothing. Ultimately, maybe it didn't mean much to most of the Servants, but...I know it was worth something. Even if it was some tiny, nearly invisibly small 'something'.

At least, not something that would draw so much attention to themselves, right? I guess I can't argue with you on that point.

[Though, he's still not sure if he believes that no one knew the Grail was corrupt. It is just a matter of why they didn't tell everyone else.]

And you are right. I forget the small things sometimes with how many big things are going on.

[He grins at Waver.]

Though, I don't know if you are such a small thing anymore. You are taller than I am now.

[It's only a couple of inches, but still...]

Wh--

[He almost immediately turned a faint shade of red, scrambling for the right way to react.]

I-I wasn't that small, you don't have to sound like it's some miracle or something.

[Diarmuid laughs at his reaction.]

You have to remember my frame of reference. There was you...

[He holds two fingers not that far apart.]

And then there was Rider.

[He gives up using fingers and just holds his hands a good distance apart.]

You looked pretty small compared to him. No offense, of course. You obviously found a way to overcome that.

[Waver buried his face in one hand in what likely seemed to be shamed or exasperation, though it sounded like he was laughing all the same.]

I can't even imagine. It was irritating enough to keep having to look up just to talk to you, never mind someone as tall as Rider.

Well, a lot of the time it didn't seem like you had to look up at him because he had this habit of swinging you around like a rag doll...

[Diarmuid shrugs, trying to look serious and failing miserably.]

Hey, at least you were at eye level, then, right?

I was a lot shorter than you then. It's nice to be able to just look you in the eye without straining my neck anymore.

[Diarmuid nods.]

I'm sure it was hard to get people to listen to you when you had to look up at them so far. And I'm sure it was terrible getting Rider to listen with as...strong a personality as he had. Hopefully, I didn't give you nearly so much trouble.

No, you listened to me pretty well. Too well, honestly.

[Confusion crosses Diarmuid's face.]

What do you mean too well? You were my master. It was my duty to do as you asked of me.

You were attentive, quiet, and subservient to extreme lengths. I probably wouldn't have minded, but it was like you wouldn't even voice your own opinion unless I asked outright. And even then, you were practically walking on eggshells.

[Sighing, Waver raised a hand to the back of his neck; fidgeting with some small mostly-hidden chain rather than the Tower's collar. As he continued, there was a strange and distant look on his face as he focused on his own recollection.]

I didn't really know how to talk to you for the longest time. It seemed like everything I said was of absolute importance. When you were talking to a stupid kid that no one ever took seriously, I guess...it was kind of frightening, somehow.

When I summoned you, I don't think I understood what a Servant was. I was so focused on my own spite and desire to prove myself that I didn't think about the possible consequences until I was dealing with someone that gave me the respect and veneration I thought I wanted.

The bottom line of it is, I didn't want someone to defer to my every word. I wanted to be able to just talk to you normally as an equal.

That...sounds like me.

[A sad smile crosses his face.]

Did we ever talk about why I was like that or what I wanted out of the war? If we did, you would know that I wasn't looking for normalcy or a friend. I was looking for a master I could serve faithfully until the end. Right or wrong, that was what I wanted. What I thought I needed.

I...I know better now. Especially after everything that has happened between me and my masters, all I want now are friends who will put up with me while I try to sort myself out.

Maybe that is why I am here instead of your Diarmuid. He learned those things with you and now it's my turn.

I understand what you wanted. Even if it took me until the last day to find out, I get it now. I really don't know if I was that Master you needed, but...you seemed happy. I guess I did well enough.

[He lowered his hand, still looking a little distant but smiling all the same.]

That could be it, sure. Or maybe I'm here so you don't have to suffer on your own anymore. [Laughing to himself, Waver pulled back from his own memories and seemed a bit more aware of what he was saying.] Yeah, I think I would be alright with that.

I'm sure you were all he wanted and needed, especially once you started talking to each other. Honestly, however things ended, I suspect he felt his wish had been granted.

[It's comforting to Diarmuid in a way he can't quite explain to know that Waver is okay with being there with him, even if he's not the same person he'd know. Maybe he shouldn't be letting himself feel that way, but honestly, Diarmuid is really starting to get tired of denying himself all of the comfort he so craves because he 'shouldn't' feel that way for some reason or another.

His friends would probably be ecstatic to hear him say that.]

For what it is worth, I already feel much less alone. Thank you.

Now, I'll tell you about my neckwear if you tell me about yours.

[He points toward the torc around his throat.]

And I don't mean the collars of course. I don't really know what to say about them aside from the fact they are annoying and seem to have something to do with anchoring our souls in our bodies.

Yeah, I heard that bit about the collars. Frankly, I don't even know where to start with the improbability of it.

Oh-- [He put a hand over the general vicinity of his collarbone, where the pendant was hanging under his shirt.]

I don't think you'd want to hear much about this. It's just the relic I stole from Kayneth; I didn't want it ending up in anyone else's hands, so I kept it on me. What about yours?

I... it was that important to you?

[Diarmuid starts to reach out for the item, but stops himself, pulling his hand back quickly.

He's got to stop doing that.

Honestly, though, he can't help but be curious about the relic. Kayneth had never told him anything about what had been used to summon him. He'd never told him more than absolutely necessary really, except during those few times when his master had been yelling at him and just couldn't seem to stop.

Diarmuid carefully pulls the torc from around his neck, turning it over in his hands.]

It was a gift from my best friend, Oscar. He spent so long looking for it because he wanted one with bird's heads on it instead of the usual wolf or boar...

[He pauses, suddenly then, eyes growing wide as something strikes him.]

The boar... When we died on the circus floor I was wearing this. If our bodies are broken down and remade for our souls to be put into anew, does that mean these things are all copies too? Zo told someone all he can pull from our worlds are our souls...

Of course it is. If it wasn't for this, I never would have met you. How could I just let any idiot stumble across the only means I know of to summon you?

[Waver listened for a moment, suddenly uneasy himself. If that was the case, if everything was really artificial...]

[He reached up and slipped the pendant off, turning it over in his hand as well--there was nothing special to it, a silver chain holding what looked like a broken shard of ivory. Silent for a minute or two, Waver thought over his words carefully before answering.]

Maybe they're real, maybe not. I'm not one to say for sure. But I mean...do you think it matters? For things like these, what really matters is the memories attached to it...that's right, isn't it? I'll confess I've become something of the sentimental type in the past few years, but I'd think it's less about the tangible connections and more about whatever they remind us of.

Edited (last edit jeez i'm tired) 2013-03-08 16:34 (UTC)

[Diarmuid's actions somewhat mirror Waver's as he turns the torc over in his hands, rubbing at the sides in a nervous habit he's picked up ever since he and his roommate had killed each other while thinking they were the other's best friend.]

Yes...you are right. I learned during the January experiment just how important memories are. They define so much about you and you never know it until they are gone. Maybe that is why they gave us these things instead of just dropping us here with nothing to tie us to our worlds. Someone making decisions knew we would need these things even if they weren't real.

[Diarmuid slips the torc back around his neck and then summons his spear, laying it across his lap.]

This though...this is a part of my soul. I wonder if that means it is real in comparison to everything else. And does that mean the metal from Gae Buidhe's shaft is real as well? It was also a part of me, but destroying it might have severed that bond. It might just be a copy of my last memories of it.

[He sighs, hand running along Gae Dearg's shaft.]

So many questions. Maybe it doesn't matter since the memories are there...

[He trails off and then laughs. There is an odd tone to the laughter, though what is odd about it is hard to pin down.]

I should not be surprised that it is a shard of the boar's tusk that was used to summon me. I wonder if the relic was the same for Kayneth as it was for you. Do you think that kind of thing might change between worlds? And if it did, would it change me? He mentioned once he had intended to summon me as a Saber not a Lancer, but things had not gone as he hoped. Maybe he did have the tusk and would have been more successful if he'd had some part of Beagalltach's handle as a relic instead.

I really wish I had any answers, Diarmuid. Usually I can come up with something when I'm asked a question, but there's too much here that's well beyond my scope of understanding. Ninety percent of the Clock Tower couldn't answer everything, I'd bet.

[Waver put his own necklace back on, thoughtful.]

Saber, huh? I can't even imagine. I mean, you were surprisingly tough as a Lancer, and Saber's supposed to be the strongest class there is. I'd call Kayneth a screwup if I hadn't gotten you in the same class myself.

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i have got to stop clicking the wrong stuff omfg

*pats* It's okay. Waver just can't post any of his porn there unless he wants Diarmuid to find it.

asdfghjk

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*pats* Shoveling snow is hard work. I'm lucky. It missed my part of PA this time...

/cries into hands

pats It's okay. Waver just can't post any of his porn there unless he wants Diarmuid to find it.

pats Shoveling snow is hard work. I'm lucky. It missed my part of PA this time...