towerofanimus | [open; dated 4/20] // dream fades before dawn

Entry tags:

[open; dated 4/20] // dream fades before dawn

Characters: Waver and open!
Setting: Floor 25
Format: Action, but I will try to match.
Summary: Someone doesn't cope well with screwing up.
Warnings: None yet.

[Since his revival, Waver hadn't slept. He certainly hadn't eaten, considering the miserable state of the cafeteria's choices. Not that he thought it mattered; there were more important things to do.]

[Twice, twice now he'd failed and gotten himself killed. This time it wasn't the death itself that bothered him (though painful, it had at least been quick) so much as it was the circumstances surrounding it. If he hadn't hesitated, if he hadn't faltered, if he hadn't been terrible with one of the most basic forms of magecraft...a thousand 'if' possibilities had run through his head countless times over by now.]

[Waver could be found sitting in the meadow on the twenty-fifth floor, and in time he'd surrounded himself with scattered and discarded notebook pages--upon which were drawn sigils both magical and alchemical in nature. It was clear he'd spent hours there (if not a day or two) doing...what was he doing? There was a small knife in his left hand, which Waver seemed to be using to cut various parts off flowers; sometimes focusing on only one, and occasionally several at a time.]

[However many he'd damaged, the green-suited magus would then hold out his hand and appear to be in deep concentration. If he was lucky, a pale green light would flicker and crackle around his hand, and the flowers would appear to slowly repair themselves.]

[...But he usually wasn't lucky. Waver estimated that even after endless hours' practice, his healing magecraft would only work approximately five times out of ten, and would only heal effectively three out of those five. No matter; he had absolutely no intention of leaving this floor until he got it right. What had begun as a harsh realization of the need for practice had rapidly spiraled downward into an obsessive task of repeated motions and stubborn fixation.]

[For him, healing was a difficult thing, one which all his thoughts had to be focused on. Unfortunately, he was thinking of far too many more troubling things; his obsessive practice had turned to an exercise in futility.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm s-sorry. If I wasn't so pathetic I could have healed you faster. I could have stopped him, I c-could have...

['I could have helped you.' Waver was afraid of quite a few things, and he'd admit as much. but what terrified and sickened him above all else was the everpresent possibility that he was fallible. He could fail at any manner of things, inconsequential to vitally important. Failure would prove everyone right, show them nothing more than the truth of Waver Velvet's incompetence.]

[His voice cracked as Waver tried to finish that sentence; he found himself clinging to Diarmuid with his face buried in the knight's shoulder, shaking with half-repressed sobs.]

I don't want you t-to die again. Whatever happens to me, I...I don't want you to suffer anymore.

[As much as Diarmuid wants to tell him that he will be careful, and he won't suffer or die anymore any statement like that in a place like this would only be a lie. And he refuses to lie to Waver.]

I know you mean well my friend, but you have to stop and think about what you are saying. Suffering is going to happen in this place. We don't have to like it, but if we beat ourselves up over every time we fail to help those we care about, we aren't going to be able to do anything at all for them. I know...before you came here I tried to do that and all it got me was death.

[Diarmuid tucks Waver's head under his chin.]

Everyone has limits and this places loves taking those limits and pushing you to them so that it can laugh when you fail. No matter how much it hurts, you have to get up again. You have to show them you won't let them win.

If you want me not to suffer, I need you with all of your flaws at my side.

[Waver waited until he could steady his voice before speaking again. But despite his best attempts, he couldn't quite seem to get control over the shaking.]

I can't stand failure. Obviously I know it's going to happen, but knowing I could fall short at a critical moment like that, it's...it's terrifying. A normal magus could have healed you as easily as breathing, but me? What kind of archmagus can't even do that?

I'm--afraid, Diarmuid. I'm going to fail you and keep failing you. How can you still say you want me by your side now, knowing that?

Because I care about you as a man not as a set of failures. How many times have I failed only to have you forgive me? What kind of person would I be if I did not extend the same forgiveness to you?

Everyone has their strengths and their weaknesses. If I were my brother, I could have healed myself, but there is not a spark of magic in me. Should I start blaming myself for that? No. What good will it do?

[Diarmuid's hand rubs comfortingly against Waver's back.]

You have worked hard to strengthen yourself to make up for the things you don't do so well. Don't let this stop you now. Not when so much is at stake.

Still, you--you should be angry with me, you idiot! Aren't you upset I tried to force you to leave?! I-I...

[Waver gave up with a defeated sigh, arms tightening a little more securely around Lancer.]

...you're probably right. I just want to actually be worth how much I know you're willing to do for me. How can I do that as such a screwup?

How can I be mad when I understand far too well why you did it? When I would have done the same thing in your shoes?

[Diarmuid leans back, coaxing Waver to look at him.]

You died to protect me. You were willing to accept the fact that I might hate you for sending me away just for a small chance at saving my life. My friend, what more could I ask from you?

[That was a relief to hear, despite the fact that Waver had expected Diarmuid to be angry. Of course he understood. If anyone understood what he'd been thinking, it would have been Diarmuid.]

I really am terrible at getting you out of trouble, aren't I?

It is a fault that I believe we both share, unfortunately.

[He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Waver's forehead.]

I guess that just means we have to work together all the harder to learn how to overcome it.

That sounds like it might work out.

[Laughing hesitantly, the magus wiped at his eyes with one hand.]

Sorry about all that.

I don't want you to be sorry, You have no reason to apologize. What I want is for you to be open with me. I might not always know what to say, but I will listen. And I will do my best to comfort you until the pain lessens. We are partners, right? That is what partners do for each other.

[Diarmuid releases his hold on Waver so that he can start picking up the papers scattered around them.]

Why don't we pick this mess up now and get you some food and rest. I think you probably need it. I was putting together bundles of food for people before things went crazy, so there is still some real food in my room.

Do I really look that bad?

[He shrugged, picking up a few wayward pages himself.]

I've gone longer than this without sleeping, so it isn't as though I'm going to run myself into the ground.

[that's exactly what he's going to do]

[Diarmuid smiles and then gently reaches out and flicks him between the eyes.]

Waver, you don't need to look bad. We are connected now, remember? I can feel what you are feeling. You are frustrated and tired. You need food and rest.

And forgive me if I don't believe you when you say that you aren't going to run yourself into the ground. You are far too much like me in some respects.

Ow--! Look, I can't exactly argue that. But you don't have to worry so much. I'm used to it.

[Really, Waver, really?]

Telling me me not to worry will be about as successful as telling you not to. You realize that, right?

Some things are okay to become use to, and others are not. Abusing your body because you can is one of those things that is not. How can you stand next to me if you don't take care of yourself?

...alright.

[Successfully defeated, he gave up with a shrug.]

If you say so, I'll try to be a little more careful.

[Diarmuid sighs and gives him a fond look.]

Please do, or else I will go white before you.

[He runs a hand through his hair, his face surprisingly grim for someone whose words seem so joking.]

I've seen myself white before... I would rather not see it again.

...I'm not sure I understand.

[Waver narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to determine just what Diarmuid was talking about.]

Ah...nothing. I shouldn't have brought it up.

[Diarmuid suddenly seems a lot more nervous than he was only a short time ago. For a few moments, he busies himself gathering the last of the papers, before stopping and suddenly adding under his breath.]

When we were changed in January to think that we had been here forever... I thought I had been here for over a thousand years and over that time I gave up on everything. I hated myself. I hated all I had stood for. I hated all that I had failed to do. It was so bad, I was forcing myself to forget what good memories I had because I felt I didn't deserve to have them.

During that time...I had white hair and a tattoo on my back. I don't know how my appearance came to change so much, but it did. Seeing myself with white hair...it would just remind me of that time....that thing I became when I gave up caring about others and only cared about myself and finding the next thing to distract me from all that I had failed to do.

[Waver hesitated for just a second, thinking about the letter he'd gotten from Kariya earlier that month. Was it really possible...could Servants themselves be corrupted by whatever the Grail was? It sounded too insane to even be plausible, but...no, at this point he couldn't say 'there's absolutely no chance of it.']

[Still, Diarmuid was Diarmuid. What was impossible was the idea of Waver turning away from him over a mere theory. All the same...he made a note to find that 'Avenger' and talk to him. Maybe he could find some answers that way.]

Don't think too hard about it. [That was meant for himself as it was Diarmuid.] I won't fault you for the kind of things that happened during such a ridiculous experiment.

No, I know you won't. That doesn't mean that I don't despite my best efforts or that others don't.

[He pauses, staring hard at the stack of papers in front of him even though he's not really seeing them.]

One in specific has told me that she does fault me for my actions during that time even though I was not in control, and she will not give me a chance to redeem myself.

[Diarmuid suddenly laughs rather bitterly.]

And then she expects forgiveness when she rampages herself, hurting and killing those who were trying to help her through her pain. As much as I hate to say it, I suppose I should not expect logic from one who has been corrupted by the Grail.

[Fuck.]

...Can you tell me more about her?

I...am not sure what I should say. There is only so much I know. She and I have only spoken once and that was over the network....

[Still, if the dark Saber is going to be so unpredictable, it would be remiss if he did not warn Waver about her lest he think her still who she was during the 4th War and be hurt because of that.]

There are two Sabers in this place. There is the one who wears white. She is a friend of mine and much like the Saber who I remember from the war. She tries to help others despite the pain I know she holds within herself.

Then...there is the Saber who wears black. She is not seen as often as she prefers keeping to herself. She has made friends with a few in the tower. My brother seems to respect her, and I know others do as well. For example, I know there is a young woman who she has trained in the art of using knives for protection.

But she is tainted. She has told me that herself. If she still holds to a code of honor, it must be as tainted as she is because I cannot understand it. She helps people at sometimes--like when she trained Tohko--and then lashes out at them at others--like when she killed my brother.

[He pauses to shake his head, before adding one last thing.]

She is not the only corrupted servant who has been in the tower. Apparently, there was once a corrupted version of a man who shared the same name as my brother. He came from some version of the 5th War. He had left the tower by the time I arrived so I never met him, but others did.

I wonder...if I had known both him and my brother would they have seemed as different as the black and white Sabers are? I don't know...

[Waver didn't answer. In fact, he didn't even seem to register answering was probably a thing he should have done. Maybe Kariya had been right to alert him to the possibility of Lancer having come into contact with the Grail. If it really could corrupt Servants like Saber...]

[It would have been wrong to say Waver was suspicious. 'Suspicion' wasn't the word he would have assigned to this feeling. Were he to assign one at all, he would likely have called it 'caution'. If (and that was a large, heavily stressed 'if') Diarmuid did have some level of the Grail's corruption to him, Waver would need to determine some countermeasure. Exorcism was the first thing to come to mind, but that was a matter for the Church and Executors. Certainly not his division, as it were. Besides, even exorcism seemed too simple in itself for dealing with whatever force could corrupt an artifact as supposedly pure as the Grail.]

[Whether or not he'd been in contact with the Grail's corruption, what that corruption even was, how much of it there could be...there were too many unknowns and variables to form a hypothesis, much less a conclusion. For the moment Waver had forgotten they were even holding a conversation, clearly lost to deep concentration of one kind or another.]

[For the first few minutes, Diarmuid is content to sit in silence and let Waver process all that he had told him, but as the silence grows longer, he begins to worry. It's obvious that whatever Waver is thinking about upsets him greatly, and Diarmuid almost gets the feeling that his friend is pondering something much more important than information about one corrupt servant.]

Waver, what is going on? What aren't you telling me?

What? Oh-

[Snapped out of his concentration, Waver faltered for a second or two. How exactly could he even begin to explain this when he didn't understand it himself? Lying was out of the question, but so was just outright stating the concept as he saw it at the moment.]

-listen, I'm not sure I can answer that question yet. Diarmuid, if you trust me at all, then--...just trust me now. If it was of immediate and pressing importance, I swear I would tell you in a second. I simply...don't think I have enough information to articulate it right now.

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