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

[fionnuisce]

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.]

Comments

[pinnaculum]

Inefficiency may indicate a lack of skill.

[Sephiroth says this matter-of-factly. He is more or less immune to annoyance, having been raised by the professor. It takes a lot on the irritation scale to register with him as significant.]

I have never seen theoreticals of magic. It is more complicated than my magic. We don't have these things on Gaia. [Which makes them all the more interesting.]

Did you find an easier way?

[fionnuisce]

[direct hit right to the inferiority complex]

I'm afraid I haven't yet.

[pinnaculum]

Maybe you will. If your magic is more like science, it could take years of research.

[Science is something he knows about.]

I can instantly heal any wound short of an immediately fatal blow, unless the tower is affecting the magic.

[fionnuisce]

Is that right? Does that if to do with your...what did you call it, materia?

[pinnaculum]

Yes. Materia. [He's glad to be asked about them. Sephiroth indicates the armlet he's wearing, within which have been inserted four round, gemlike stones that glow faintly. He moves so as to show these to Waver.] I can help, if you need healing. I can also cure poisoning.

[fionnuisce]

I don't need healing myself at the moment, but...is that really all there is to it?

[Waver stared at the materia in thoughtful fascination, eyes narrowed as he considered just how they could have possibly functioned.]

[pinnaculum]

If you ever need it, you can ask. [He's glad to help.] But it is better to have the magic yourself.

You have to learn to use Materia, and it requires practice. Some have more natural magical talent than others and can achieve better results.

[He touches the Materia lightly. Their radiation can be dangerous, but not to him. He's been treated with it.]

[fionnuisce]

...How much better, exactly?

[So it came down to a matter of talent? That was perfect for him.]

oops, I thought I posted this!

[pinnaculum]

I am enhanced with mako radiation, so I achieve much better than normal results. [The glow of his eyes is something like the glow of the Materia, and that's no coincidence.]

Some people will not be able to use Materia well at all, and some can achieve greater results, but most are in the average range.

no problem!

[fionnuisce]

Hm...that's fascinating. What kind of conditions would someone have to meet in order to be substandard in using them?

[pinnaculum]

To be substandard, you would have to have no magical aptitude. You would achieve no results or very uneven results. You would have less control, and it could be dangerous.

[fionnuisce]

And how does one measure magical aptitude in your world?

[pinnaculum]

Through Materia use. It is the only way humans can use magic.

[fionnuisce]

A trial and error sort of thing, then.

[pinnaculum]

There is no way to measure magical aptitude other than magical performance.

There are other forms of unusual energy usage. It is unknown whether these are magical in nature. Those with magical aptitude are more likely to be capable of them.

I have various energy attacks.

[fionnuisce]

Would you show me? I can't say I even know how to classify such a thing if not magic.

[pinnaculum]

[Oh. Did you just ask him to do one of his energy attacks? Because he loves to perform them.

Sephiroth wasn't in the best of moods previously, but he visibly brightens.]

I will show you.

[He gets right on it. He moves a safe distance away from Waver first, then, without further preamble, leaps up into the air, raising his arms. Immediately, four globes of what can only be described as glowing darkness appear around him, and Sephiroth lowers his arms, sharply. As he directs it, the darkness converges on one spot, the globes striking the earth with a great impact that sends grass and soil flying, destroys flowers and chars the ground.

Sephiroth lands, looking pleased with himself.]

[fionnuisce]

...Er...

[Hoooo-lee shite.]

[pinnaculum]

That is Shadow Flare. [Yay.] Would you like to see another?

[fionnuisce]

You know what, sure. Why the hell not?

[pinnaculum]

Then I will execute Heartless Angel.

[He moves further away, as this attack is more powerful. He leaps up again, and this time he is surrounded by a globe of light, as a brighter, almost blinding light appears over his head, the "angel". Again, he drives the attack and all the light down into the ground instead of an opponent, sending even more soil flying this time, cutting a swath of devastation through the flowers.

Once he's done, he looks to Waver again, almost smiling now.]

[fionnuisce]

I...wh...how?

[The logistics of this were giving him one hell of a headache.]

[pinnaculum]

[Sephiroth is going to take this as approval. He likes approval. Grumpy professors so rarely show him approval.]

I am enhanced. I have speed, strength and skill far beyond that of the average human. It is the result of science.

[Magical science.]

[fionnuisce]

But you don't call those techniques magic? How do you do it, then?

[pinnaculum]

[Sephiroth is a bit winded. Energy attacks are hard work! But he had wanted to show Waver.

Catching his breath, he thinks about Waver's question. It's not entirely easy to answer.]

No, they are not called magic. Most people cannot do these things, so they are not clearly defined. They are very rare.

I am able to do these things because of my exposure to mako radiation and certain chemicals. [He really doesn't know what was done to him.] To do them, I concentrate. It is hard to explain. I move the energy.