Lord El-Melloi II [AU] (
fionnuisce) wrote in
towerofanimus2013-04-19 05:48 pm
[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.]
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.]

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[Waver narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to determine just what Diarmuid was talking about.]
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[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.
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[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.
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[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.
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...Can you tell me more about her?
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[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...
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[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.]
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Waver, what is going on? What aren't you telling me?
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[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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[Concern fills his eyes.]
Because I really don't want you anywhere near her. While I might not have understood her before, I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. After her little outburst, I feel remiss in my duties even giving her that. I can only hope that having a version of her master here might somehow keep her from rampaging again.
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[Waver glanced away once he'd said that; being fixed with that look even as he refused to tell Diarmuid everything gave him a deep sense of guilt.]
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What's is going on?]
Then what is it I should be worried about, my friend? Can you really not tell me now?
How am I suppose to protect you, if I don't know?
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[Waver hesitated, words failing him for a moment. Giving up on the matter of secrecy, he took Kariya's letter from his pocket and held out the folded paper.]
It isn't something you need to protect me from. I'm trying to figure out if you're the one that needs protection or if this is all baseless conjecture.
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He saw my breakdown...and now he thinks I'm corrupt?
[He looks up at Waver, fear in his eyes.]
I-I never thought of that, but wouldn't that mean that any servant who went back to the Grail after being defeated could be corrupt?
D-do you think I'm corrupt? Is that why I...
[Diarmuid cuts himself off, squeezing his eyes closed to try and calm himself. It's hard because if that is true, it suddenly makes a terrifying kind of sense why he can't calm the rage and hate inside of him...]
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[Waver put his arms around Diarmuid's shoulders, voice steady.]
I need you to realize this; it's going to be alright. If you are, I'll find a way to help you. If you aren't, there's nothing to worry about. Either way, you are my friend above all else--I won't abandon you for anything, least of all something like this.
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[Diarmuid suddenly pulls away from Waver, standing and taking a few steps away. His arms wrap around his waist, shoulders hunching as if he is trying to make himself smaller. Honestly, he's just trying to make himself get used to only having himself to trust for comfort again.
He's so quickly gotten used to being able to turn to others.]
I should go someplace...someplace as far away from everyone as I can. That way I won't hurt anyone.
[Even considering the idea feels like he is tearing his heart out, but it is the right thing to do. To do anything else would be unacceptably selfish.]
W-when do you want to sever our contract?
[Saying that makes him feel sick, but it too is the unselfish thing to do.]
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[Waver stood rigidly, hands in shaking fists at his sides. He was frustrated and angry--he couldn't stand seeing the one person he admired and respected acting like such an idiot. If he didn't think it would make matters worse, he would almost have wanted to punch common sense into Diarmuid's head.]
You really think that'll make things better? Giving up and running away?! Goddammit, will you stop acting so suicidally selfless for five minutes and think?! We don't even know if there is any of that corruption--Kariya could be talking complete shit for all I know!
And what if there is some trace of it? You think isolating yourself from everyone that wants to help will make it any better?! You can't honestly believe that being alone is any kind of improvement!
[Waver abruptly stopped himself, scowling before taking a deep breath to calm down. Anger wasn't going to solve anything here, and though his fists were still trembling with frustration the lecturer's next words were notably calmer.]
Don't just assume the selfless thing to do is always the right one. I absolutely will not let you leave my side, not like this. If you don't want to hurt me, then don't leave. You do that and you may as well kill me on the spot.
I am the one who would make an enemy of the corrupted Holy Grail itself. If you think I fear a little hypothetical shadow, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, then you have a lot to learn about your Master. I'll break it down and destroy it utterly, no matter what price I have to pay in return.
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Do you think I actually want to leave you?
[His voice is small and shaking.]
I am afraid. I am more afraid than I ever have been. Forgive me. I don't mean to get so upset, but it makes so much sense. It would explain why I am so angry and full of hate at times. What else could it be but that? Surely, that is why I have changed so much...
Will I soon be like her? Will you promise me you will stop me if I ever become like that? Promise me. Please...
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[Trying his best to comfort him, Waver threaded one hand lightly through Diarmuid's hair as his other arm found its way around the knight's shoulders.]
Trust me. That's not going to happen...but I swear to you that if I'm wrong, if the impossible happens, I'll put a stop to it myself.
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[Diarmuid rests his head against Waver's shoulder and sighs.]
I'm sorry. I'm trying to be stronger for you, but it seems like every time I start getting my feet back under me the tower does something to knock them back out. This was suppose to be me helping you...
[He steps back and smiles tiredly. There is still fear in his eyes, but he seems to be calming down now that Waver has made his promise.]
Come on, lets get you some food and rest.
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[He took Diarmuid's hand with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.] You should be able to rely on me as much as you would expect me to do the same with you. Don't start pushing yourself and carrying everything alone for my sake.
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I did not plan to. I just would like to not be so unstable. I want to be able to continue to help others as much as they help me. If I stay like this, I won't be able to do that.
I know this is a change of topic, but was that healing you were practicing? I don't know much about magic, but is it possible you are trying too hard and defeating yourself before you even begin? Sometimes, the best way to do something is to just let it come instead of over-thinking it. I know I have seen this in people who I have trained. They will be caught on something forever because they are trying so hard, but once they let go it suddenly comes to them just as easy as if they had known how to do it forever.
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A little? My friend, you have a talent for understatement. That was obsession I felt coming off you. Frighteningly strong levels of obsession. Just the kind of thing that will make you fail no matter now hard you try.
You need to let what happened go, because hanging onto that right now is making you your own worst enemy. If you expect yourself to fail, you will fail. Over and over again.
There is nothing wrong with practicing, but you need to do it correctly or else you will only make things harder on yourself.
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Freudian Icon Slip there? As much as he complains... :-P
whoooooooops :B
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