Midsummer Bash

Characters: Lancer, the people he invited to the party, and everyone else who wants to stumble in
Setting: Floor 25, July 5, afternoon
Format: Open
Summary: Lancer throws a party for midsummer, since the Tower obviously needs a breather.
Warnings: None so far.

[To be honest, Lancer wanted to have the party in the evening, sometime around twilight. That would have been the most romantic time for it. Unfortunately, when in the Tower, one had to account for things like monsters. As a result, he had to hold it during the afternoon. But it wasn't too bad of a compromise.]

[This was, of course, a more simple affair than Diarmuid's birthday. For food, he had hauled a couple of tables up here and lined the table with dinner food. The centerpiece was a cake which had a heart drawn on it in red frosting. In one corner of the meadow, he had used some boxes and tarp to make some sort of booth where people could hide from the sun (and steal kisses off of each other). In the center of the meadow, he had piled a large stack of wood, perfect for lighting a bonfire by the party's end. The structures had all been surrounded with wreaths made from the meadow's flowers.]

[As soon as he's done with the setup, Lancer will sit down next to the firewood pile, waiting for people to come.]

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My birthright.

[Simple question, simple answer. Still with the creeping smirk. He knows full well what he did and he's not only proud of it, he enjoyed doing it. Granted it's not like he's pursuing it anymore on account of bigger issues now to contend with, such as putting an end to all of it within a year.

It still doesn't change the fact that, even so caged as they are, Sephiroth was able to control another resident so easily - so completely. The possibilities...]

Your birthright?

[Diarmuid scoffs under his breath and crosses his arms over his chest before he ends up with his spear in his hand unconsciously.]

I hate to break it to you since you seem so happy in your delusional fantasy world, Sephiroth, but everyone is born with the right to freedom and control over themselves. No matter what you might have been on your home world, you are the same as everyone else here.

[Diarmuid eyes narrow, his eyes catching the fire's flames and flickering bright amber gold.]

Here we are all wire frames and gel bodies with a little flickering soul inside. Learn to accept that and then maybe someday someone else might actually believe you are as special as you seem to think you are.

Deluded freedoms at best. In truth it's all just lies really, levels of controls. Ethics, morality, social-acceptance, emotions - all designed to convince humankind that they are free when they are not.

[Sephiroth's scowl draws shadows across his face emphasized by the bonfire. Putting him on a level with everyone else here is unacceptable, though it's very much a bitter truth given the circumstances. He knows he is, and has been, just as controlled, susceptible to just as much illusion as anyone else contained here.

Sephiroth cannot afford to accept that defeat though, he cannot accept anything less than what he's entitled to. He was destined to rule his Planet, and if he can't get back there changing a target will have to do. It's important to hold on to that identity, and never let it go lest other parts of him fail also.]

You talk as if I actually give any regard to what any of you believe in.

[He doesn't hesitate to summon Masamune to his already well-positioned grip on the left side; away from the flames. Almost as if he'd been hiding it up his sleeve. If Diarmuid wants to go, Sephiroth never refuses a fight. Even in the glare of the fire to the one side his eyes glow dangerously. He's already given more than enough reason for Sephiroth to start, that he hasn't is testament to his self-control.]

I don't. Now back off.

Diarmuid.

[Waver's voice was firm as he put a hand on the knight's shoulder, cold green eyes focused sharply on Sephiroth. He could have sensed this argument from across the Tower, and it was giving him a hell of a headache.]

This isn't the time or place to start a fight. [Even so, there was a glass vial of liquid mercury held in his other hand just in case.] I think withdrawing would be the wiser option in this case.

[Normally Waver's presence at his side would immediately calm Diarmuid, but this time it doesn't. In fact, when he feels the magus' hand on his shoulder, he tenses even more than he had been before. For a moment, emotions flow through their bond so clearly that they might as well be words...

I want to fight him. I need to fight him. Please!

Suddenly, the emotion is pulled back. Strangled perhaps is a better way of describing it. Diarmuid knows he can't fight here. But he wants it so badly. And Sephiroth has made the first move. He has bared his sword.

Underneath Waver's fingers, it will be easy to feel that Diarmuid is shaking from how hard he is having to fight to hold himself back.]

Please, Master. Let me...

[The words are a harsh whisper. A plea. One probably best left unanswered, but he has to try. Ryoji is like a son to him and at the moment he's staring down his son's murderer.

He can't just let him walk away.

At the same time, there is another side to that plea. A side that cannot be ignored if this fight is to be stopped. Diarmuid is not so sure Waver speaking to him as a friend will be enough to stop him.

But the order of a Master just might be enough.]

...

[One word and Waver knew exactly what he needed to do. But he couldn't show Sephiroth the absolute authority that a Master held. If this person knew about Command Spells and what they could do, god only knew what would happens from there. Waver would be making both of them a target if he did that.]

[Not to mention it made him sick to think about. More so to do what he did next; his posture straightened, stare turned hard and cold as a deadly serious edge of authority crept into his voice. At a single thought from Diarmuid, Waver turned from a concerned friend to a full archmagus in order to protect them both.]

Stand down, Lancer. There's too much at stake to be fighting here.

[On the Servant's shoulder, a faint scarlet glow came from the marks on Waver's hand--a silent half-warning half- plea of 'don't make me do this'.]

Withdraw and we'll resume this later. And you-- [that icy stare was leveled at Sephiroth again] -get out of my sight before I change my mind and let him rip you apart as I'd like to.

[Luckily Sephiroth is much too busy piercing his glowing green eyes into Diarmuid's to notice the red glow at the other mans hand on his shoulder. After all he's primed for a fight now and won't back down until the initiator makes his move. Either to fight or back down.

Sephiroth isn't sure of this fight, though, or he'd have made his move already. To take a chance against one he doesn't know the skills of all that well is risky and his most recent death is still much too fresh. After a charged pause Sephiroth takes a breath and at least relaxes his posture a little. Vibrant green eyes flicking to meet with Waver's colder ones.

Just who does this guy think he is, ordering him around the same way he's ordering his 'friend' around? Again, Sephiroth needs to know more before he'll be committing to this showdown despite his own desire for violence starting to dance under the surface.]

Fine. [He drops the great sword into nothingness, as if it were just an afterthought.] You can have this round.

[Of course what he means is there will of course be a 'later', perhaps when all of this animosity has had time to fester a little more. Emotions so raw as was demonstrated would surely give him the advantage in a fight if it came to that. Sephiroth looks over the two men once more before stepping away. Half curiously trying to fathom the relationship here, half making sure they weren't going to turn on him when his back is turned.

He delivers one more pointed look and a smirk at Diarmuid before carefully making his way back across the meadow towards the stairwell.]

[Diarmuid flinches when he hears the change in Waver's voice. Pain flickers deep in his eyes just for an instant when he hears the title instead of his name and catches sight of that familiar red glow. But there is something else in his eyes as well. Something only clearly discernible though the bond that Waver and Diarmuid share.

Relief.

Relief that his friend had just known what to do without needing anymore hint than that one added word. Relief that he had been willing to step back into that role even though it had to have hurt. What Waver had done might not have seemed like much to outsiders, but it had been exactly what Diarmuid had needed. A hand to control what he, at the moment, could not.

Even if Sephiroth had not chosen that moment to back away and pause the confrontation, Diarmuid would have. In that way, even though Sephiroth had 'conceded' the round, in reality it had been more like a draw.

The gaze the follows Sephiroth as he leaves the floor is still full of burning fury, but that fury is more controlled and once the man is gone completely, that fury burns quickly down to embers. Diarmuid's head drops and when he speaks, his voice is a horse whisper.]

I'm sorry. I just couldn't... He forced someone very close to me to kill themselves. Just like... Just like...

[Just like Kayneth had done to him.]

Calm down. [Waver's cold tone had immediately been thrown aside the moment Sephiroth vanished from sight, his stance and demeanor visibly relaxing.] It's alright--I figured you must have had your reasons for picking a fight with someone like that. I'm not saying 'don't fight him', but you know this isn't the place for it.

[Waver hesitated for a second, not really sure how to approach what he had just done.]

...I'm sorry about that, Diarmuid.

I know. I know full well and yet I couldn't stop myself. I was so close to...

[Diarmuid turns to Waver, stepping forward so he can rest his head against the other man's shoulder for a moment.]

Don't say you are sorry. Don't. I needed you to do that. You did exactly what I hope you would. But...I know how much you hate having to do it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for forcing you to do something you hate so much...

It's alright. I don't mind playing the heartless aristocrat, just...not with you. You know I'm not really like that.

I know you're not. I know, but...

[Diarmuid sighs, stepping away from Waver for a moment. He tries to look up and meet his friend's eyes, but he can't and ends up looking at the ground instead.]

No matter how much I want to play at being human, I'm still just a servant. Something's...missing. I couldn't stop myself. I had to have someone stop me.

[He laughs and the sound is very bitter and hollow.]

I just had to have a hand on my leash. What is wrong with me? Why can't I function without someone having to control me?

Diarmuid...listen to me.

[Waver stepped forward, gently raising both hands to Diarmuid's face and guiding the knight to look back at him.]

You have been doing this for a very long time, and very old habits are hard to break. There's nothing wrong with you, and you're still just as human as I am. You just need to learn to follow your own orders instead of someone else's. Until then, if you need a Master...I'll be here.

I... I...

[In the end, he can't manage to find the right words so he just nods, moving forward to rest his head against the other man's shoulder again.]

I'm sorry... I know. I know. It's just... One of my friends was one of Ruana's starter monsters last month. He's been fighting so hard and now...now he's just broken. And I couldn't fix him. I couldn't find the right thing to say. If...if I was human would I have known? Would I? Am I so far removed now that I can't help my friends when they really need me?

And Ryoji... If I...

[He cuts himself off, falling silent for a moment before continuing.]

Even after all this time... I still want to save them all. How? How do I do that? A human can't, so I have to be something else. Servants are just tools to be used. If I stop with this foolish wish to be human and just become a servant you can use me. You can just use me as a tool to save them. That would be okay, wouldn't it?

[Waver. He's rambling. Shut him up...]

Diarmuid. [His voice was firm but not controlling; the tone of a stern friend instead of a Master. Waver wrapped his arms around Diarmuid and pulled him closer, running a hand lightly through his hair.]

You idiot. Of course it wouldn't be okay. You're not a tool and you don't have to try to make yourself one. You're human, and humans screw up. Sometimes you can help people, sometimes you can't. Maybe if someone's lucky they can save everyone they set out to save, but there's really no such thing as a perfect victory. Someone along the line is going to lose a battle or two before they win the war outright.

I don't want you as my tool, I need you as my friend. I can't save everyone or escape this place alone. But if we work together, we can do damn near anything if we work hard enough.

[Diarmuid doesn't answer Waver for a long moment. The only sound is his shuttering breathing as he tries to pull himself back under control. He almost wants to cry, but he's cried so much since he first got here and he is tired of it. He's tired of finding his feet only to have them knocked out from under him again. He's tired of nothing he does being enough. Not enough to help Suzaku. Not enough to save Ryoji...

No.

He stops his train of thought there. It's not getting him anywhere. Instead he focuses on what Waver has said to him, the feel of Waver's hand in his hair, and the strength he can feel across their bond. He focuses on that and uses it as an anchor to force himself back into control.]

I'm sorry. Apparently, it was time for my regularly scheduled breakdown. Maybe we should start writing these down so we can try and keep them away from fun events like this party.

[The joke is weak, but he's not feeling all that strong at the moment anyway. Diarmuid might have some of his control back, but it's still unsteady at best.]

I won't hold it against you, I promise. In a place like this, that kind of thing is unavoidable.

[He laughed softly, trying to reassure Diarmuid as best he could.]

Listen...it's okay if once in a while, you need a Master to keep you from doing stupid things. I want you to be able to stand on your own and follow your own orders. But until then, I'll be whatever you need me to be.

It's just...all I've known. As far back as I can remember. Even when I was just a small child. I knew there would always be someone else's commands I would bow to. I...

[He laughs softly.]

I'm sorry. Why am I telling you this? You already know.

[Diarmuid steps back and smiles at Waver.]

Thank you. I will try to keep those times few. I much prefer having you as my friend than my master.

[For a moment, Diarmuid closes his eyes. When he speaks, there is conviction in his voice.]

I don't know when it will be, but I will fight him. He has to pay for what he has done. I don't know if I can win alone, but it will happen.

I know you do, Diarmuid. And for what it's worth, I'd sooner be your friend.

[Waver turned serious as well, frowning in what seemed like disapproval.] Don't be stupid. You won't be alone in this as long as I'm here.

Waver...

[His look is both grateful and sad.]

I honestly don't know if I can beat him. I have talked to the younger Sephiroth and my spear's abilities are useless against their type of magic. All I will have is my fighting skill and my servant abilities.

[Diarmuid shakes his head.]

I cannot ask you to stand next to me in a battle that will likely end with my death.

Tough, because I will regardless of whether you ask me or not.

[Clearly upset, Waver's right hand curled into a fist.]

What--you expect me to only fight with you when we know you can win? Fuck that. I'm not that kind of coward and you know it. And I'm not going to stand by and let you fight someone like that alone. End of discussion.

No! That's not it! That's not it at all!

[Diarmuid's eyes narrow, but instead of being angry like one might expect, they are filled with fear.]

Maybe it makes me a coward, but I don't want to see it again! I don't want to see you die in front of me again!

[That seemed to defuse any anger Waver felt almost immediately, his next few words notably softer.]

...Do you think I want you to run off and get killed yourself? That would likely hurt me just as much as my own death would hurt you. But even so, we can't just work together only when it's convenient for us. In this place one or both of us are pretty much bound to suffer and even die a few times before this year's over.

I know it hurts even just in concept and I'm sorry. But you can't tell me to stay behind so you can go alone to a fight we could even have a chance of winning together. Please--I don't want to die, but that doesn't mean I'm afraid to. Least of all if I can help you and fight at your side.

[Diarmuid listens closely to Waver's words and then, after a moment, laughs sadly and shakes his head.]

I'm doing it again, aren't I? I'm right back to putting myself on a different level from everyone else. Expecting myself to do more while at the same time not caring if I am hurt in the process as long as another isn't.

I'm sorry. I thought I was passed doing that...

[He finally looks back at Waver.]

I have a long way to go yet, don't I?

We both do, honestly. I'd say you and I are screwed up in several different ways. [He smiled slightly, resting a hand on Diarmuid's shoulder.] But we'll do it together. Right?

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