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

You're not cutting my hair. I like it this way, thank you very much.

[HMPH.]

Anyway, things like that aren't hard to learn. Most modern devices look a lot more difficult than they actually are.

How about if I braid it instead if you won't let me cut it?

[He winks again at Waver, reaching out to bat at some of the man's long hair.]

That is good to hear. I have been told a little bit about how a microwave works, but there are so many variables that it didn't make a whole lot of sense. Ah! And she never did get around to telling me that much about the oven. What I have used the most is the stove. That is pretty straightforward as long as you are careful and know what buttons belong to what.

H-hey, leave my hair alone!

[Sheesh.]

An oven and microwave aren't all that difficult. The latter's a little bit complicated to explain, but it's simple enough to use.

[Diarmuid's fingers flick at Waver's hair once more before he lets his arm fall away.]

Maybe that is what she was doing wrong. She was telling me all of this stuff without really showing it to me. Usually, that is all right for me, but for something like the microwave, it just wasn't sticking very well.

I work with some students who don't understand anything more complicated than a phone. I'm used to teaching things like that through example.

How lucky for me. I honestly think part of her problem was that is was hard for her to realize just how little I know about these things. I need to be told every detail. Not telling me something basic because you think it's something everyone must know is just asking for trouble.

[He pauses, gaze dropping for a moment. His eyes just so happen to drop to that spot on the floor and Diarmuid pales slightly.]

This might be an abrupt chance of topic, but can I ask you something?

...Of course you can. Change the subject if you want--is something wrong?

It's just...this room used to seem safe to me, but...

[He pauses, closing his eyes.]

You felt it, right? When I died the other day... It...wasn't too bad for you, was it?

...yeah, I did. I'm sorry, I should have been there.

[Diarmuid shakes his head.]

No, it was better you weren't. It...happened very quickly. I was emotionally exhausted after...helping...Cecil with her friend and I dozed off. By the time I woke up, it was already too late. My spear could do nothing against her ribbons.

[His hand unconsciously raises to rub at his neck.]

She...was in agony the whole time. I could see it in her eyes. I am glad it was quick, for her sake.

I'm still sorry I wasn't able to help you. Or her, for that matter.

[He shakes his head again.]

No insult my friend, but if you had been there, I am afraid it would only have been a repeat of what happened a few days before. You would have tried to save me, and I expect she would have killed you. Jason did not up their abilities by half-measures.

...none taken. You're probably right about that--I've been almost hilariously inefficient fighting anything but monsters. Not to say it takes a lot to outclass me in a fight, but it still didn't happen very often until I got here.

It probably didn't happen to a lot of people before they came here so don't be too hard on yourself. The moderators seem to know everything about us and just how to set us up to take the biggest fall. It's hard for anyone to win against that. It's how they keep us in line when they do what it is they do.

I'll just need to adapt a little more quickly, then. Right?

[Diarmuid smiles gently.]

You and me both, but it is no easy task. I've been trying ever since I arrived, but it's hard to better yourself when this place finds whatever little doubt you have and then tears it open and forces you to deal with it.

The best I can suggest is to try and make sure you take care of yourself and that means not missing sleep or meals. I have found that even though I don't need to eat or sleep, I work better and am more focused when I do.

I never have been very good at that, I'll have to admit.

[no shit sherlock.]

I've gone days on end without sleeping before, and I've definitely been so busy I've forgotten to eat now and then. I'll probably have to watch my step around here.

[Diarmuid's smile turns into a grin.]

Well, it's either that or get used to life with me hovering over your elbow making sure you do eat and sleep. I expect that would get annoying pretty fast, but if it got you to take care of yourself...

I might not mind you following me around all the time, really.

There is a difference between following and hovering, my friend. You should have see my kids complain when daddy went into hover mode after they had been hurt or while they were sick. I think they hated me for a while after each time because I drove them crazy making sure they rested and all of that. Of course, they always got better fast, so that is really all I cared about.

Heh-...seems like a funny thing to complain about.

[Waver's laugh was a little too halfhearted for his own taste.]

That's a pretty normal thing for parents, isn't it?

I couldn't tell you. Somehow, I doubt I was a normal parent.

[Diarmuid finally sits near Waver on the bed, swinging his legs up on it so they aren't sitting on that spot. He folds his arms over his knees and rests his chin on them looking at his friend.]

Since I couldn't really go out and fight with the Fianna anymore my kids kind of became everything to me. Them and the homestead. That was my focus. Making it the best it could be so that everyone could live happily.

[It was an awkward subject for Waver, to say the least. He tried not to show any sign of that; though steady, his tone had a note of some distant thought to it.]

I'd assume any ordinary parents would want the best for their children. Family's important, right? I mean, if you're not the kind of insane person that just wants to have an heir to their skills and Magic Crest.

Sadly, magi of your day were not the only people who had children for completely inappropriate reasons. I ran into too many people in my time who saw their children only as a way to increase their own name because they didn't want to do the work themselves.

[Diarmuid's face darkens, suddenly as memories he would rather forget resurface.]

The man responsible for my birth.... He was one of them. Thankfully, I had Aengus and Caer to take up his slack. Many many others were not so lucky.

...Sorry to hear that.

[His words were awkward, but the sentiment was honest enough.]

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