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

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.

That is part of the reason I'm having such a hard time. I don't like not having these answers. Actually, I wouldn't mind not having them as long as someone had them. As it is, there is no way to make plans which I am sure is exactly what they want.

[Diarmuid unsummons his spear, folding his hands into his lap once it's gone. They don't stay there long though as he begins gesturing with them as he starts talking. He actually seems to grow more excited as he talks.]

I miss my swords as much as I do Gae Buidhe. Moralltach and Beagalltach. They are as much a part of me as my spears and all four were gifts I was honored to receive. I would be interested to see how their powers translate. Moralltach in specific. It's power was very great and also very dangerous. It took quite a bit of skill to use it. I became quite adapt at it, but I still respected its power. That is part of the reason I did not take it with me on the hunt that day even though Grainne said I should.

[He shakes his head.]

I should have listened, but who knows if that really would have changed anything. I was fated to die that day. I suspect there was nothing I could have done to change it.

Do you...really not regret any of it, Diarmuid? Tell me honestly.

[It was something Waver had wanted to ask for a long time. To make the best of even miserable situations in order to live without regrets...he was pretty sure he had been able to do as much himself so far.]

[But 'pretty sure' and 'absolutely without regret' weren't quite the same.]

I'm just wondering because...take what I said about the Grail, for example. I could choose to destroy it and risk the Association's equivalent of a death sentence. Or I could just turn my back on it and go on living a mostly uneventful life as a reasonably well-respected lecturer.

If I do the first one, I could regret getting myself into that much trouble for the sake of countless people I don't even know. Take the second option, and I could regret being a coward for the rest of my life.

How do you even handle situations like that? Or is it just a losing battle no matter which way you go?

I...I'm not sure how to answer that. Honestly...

[Diarmuid sighs and runs a hand through his hair.]

For my first life, I can honestly say I regretted nothing, but some people have implied that the reason I didn't was because I didn't know better. My life was one of blacks and whites. I served and died for my lord even if my lord was not always...honest with me. Still, I don't regret it. I wouldn't change it and what good would regretting do me now? It is all done and that time is gone forever.

[He pauses, dropping into thought for several moments. Finally, he shakes his head.]

I cannot give you an answer about the war. So much of what happened is still so new to me--the emotions so raw. Do I regret destroying my spear? No, not at all. Do I regret leaving Sola-Ui so far away from the fight where I thought she would be safe, but it turned out she was not? I might not have liked the way she acted toward me, but that wasn't her fault. Despite her magical abilities, I'm pretty sure she was strongly affected by my curse. So her being hurt, I think I regret that. Part of me wanted her away before she led me straight into a repeat of my first life. That fear might have influenced my decision to leave her so far away. If it did, I did her wrong. I left her in danger for my own selfish reasons and that will never be okay with me.

And...here? Do I regret my actions here? I have made mistakes, and I have done things I thought I would regret and they turned out to be for the best. I think in the end, only you can decide what is the right choice for you. However, if I might suggest it, I think the best way to decide if continuing on your quest to destroy the Grail is right is not to ask others about it, but to honestly ask yourself about it. Think not of what you will be doing for everyone else, but for yourself. Is there something that you, deep down, will get out of it? Will it make you truly happy to do this for no one else but you? If you can say yes to that, then I think you will be far more likely to never regret the choice.

... [Sometimes he hated when Diarmuid was right. Not that he could disagree even if he wanted to. Waver himself had started to take on the view of things in black and white, right or wrong. Now he was kicking himself for needing Diarmuid of all people to shove him back in the right direction. For all he talked about an equal relationship between Master and Servant, he still felt deeply indebted to the knight in ways that defied most expression: to be again set on a proper course by him just seemed to make the scales of equivalence even more unbalanced.]

I don't...know if I really care what happens to me. Not that I have a deathwish--I'm not exactly in a hurry to get myself killed doing something stupid. What I mean is more that if I know doing something stupid and probably getting in unimaginable trouble for it is going to help people--especially you--then I don't think I could ever live with myself knowing I'd played it safe instead.

There's not a whole lot of people I like or even tolerate much, but that doesn't mean I'd abandon them if they needed my help. Even if it costs me my life, my title, or whatever else I have, I would want to do it.

...Just don't tell anyone. Even I've got a reputation to keep up, you know? People start finding out the second Lord El-Melloi gives a damn about them, everything just falls apart. Hell of a pain in the neck.

[Diarmuid smiles. From their earlier talk, he had gotten the impression that Waver had already made his choice. Sometimes, though, it doesn't hurt to be reminded of why.]

I think you already have your answer then, yes? You want to help those people. Just because your focus is on them doesn't mean that you aren't also doing something for yourself. I have had to explain that to so many people since I arrived. They just don't understand how me helping people is also doing something for myself.

[He reaches out and claps Waver on the shoulder.]

I promise that I won't tell anyone you have a heart, but you need to promise me you will not completely turn into me. Don't start neglecting yourself everything or saying that you don't matter, because you do. Maybe not to yourself or to anyone else, but you mean everything to me.

[A shy look crosses Diarmuid's face and he looks away, hand dropping from Waver's shoulder.]

Perhaps I worry too much. I shouldn't assume you will be so foolish as I have been.

Worry all you want. I'm not really the catastrophe I used to be, but it's not unheard of for me to screw up now and then. I can promise you, though, I'll be a little more careful.

[Waver smiled slightly, reaching over to rest a hand over one of Diarmuid's own.]

But I want you to be careful too. Don't think like that so much; you mean more to me than I can probably ever explain.

Thank you.

[Diarmuid bows his head embarrassed by Waver's concern, but also by the words he's about to speak.]

I-I know. I already learned that lesson the hard way. Last month I focused so much on helping others and not taking care of myself that I eventually became so mentally exhausted that I froze in the middle of a fight. That got both me and my roommate killed.

[He shakes his head.]

We are just fortunate that death isn't permanent here, and I have the chance to learn from my mistake. Still, I got my hero killed. I will never forgive myself for that even if he doesn't blame me.

We all make mistakes, Diarmuid. Be upset about it if you want, but try not to hold it over your own head forever.

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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

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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...