Lord El-Melloi II [AU] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fionnuisce) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-08-13 09:52 pm
fionnuisce) wrote in towerofanimus2013-08-13 09:52 pm
[open] // it gives meaning to each moment
Characters: Waver and open
Setting: Floor 3
Format: Either
Summary: Some people get depressed, others get angry.
Warnings: Standard Individuation warnings plus one for Waver's terrible language.
[Waver had generally ignored the four shadows that had been trailing behind him at varying distances the past few days. There was a lot on his mind, and some spectral nonsense ranked very low on his list of priorities.]
[So it caught him completely off guard when one spoke. Not just spoke, spoke in a voice he knew. As haughty and disdainful as it had been ten years before, the words spoken caused the lecturer to freeze in place and drop the book he'd been holding.]
['Blood determines a mage's strength.']
[He spun around, automatically scowling and ready to throw a punch right into the speaker's smug face...but the one he knew to have owned that voice was nowhere in sight. Just the same shadows, yet now one seemed to have shifted. It was far from a perfect silhouette, and yet it carried the air of that superior stance, that arrogant and cold magus Waver had hated so much--]
['Is this what your precious 'hard work' results in, Waver Velvet? You're nothing. You were destined to be nothing. Now the entire world is nothing--and it's entirely your fault. A proper magus could have prevented all this. If a real aristocrat had taken this title, he could have saved the world long before it was in ruins--not scramble to repair what no longer exists.']
[What? This was some kind of sick joke, right? Was this supposed to be some kind of poltergeist that spoke in his predecessor's voice? Waver staggered backwards, leaning against the bookshelf as though bracing himself against some form of attack.]
Really, this is it? Now I'm starting to think your illusions aren't even trying to look real.
[A second among the shadows spoke up at Waver's sarcastic dismissal, using the lazily spoken tones of a teenage boy.]
['Geez...I must be as stupid as you think. I really thought you could do anything, Professor. But I guess I couldn't expect a third-generation magus to save us. I bet you're glad to be rid of me, yeah?']
[Green eyes narrowed and turned cold. Don't argue with it. he told himself. Now you know this isn't real. With whatever ironclad logic he'd used to make that deduction, Waver did little more than shrug, pick up the book he'd dropped, and turn back to the shelf to disregard the shadows once again.]
['Don't you dare ignore me, Velvet.' The third was the voice of a teenage girl, her voice prideful and cold as only aristocracy could be. 'You let me die. I gave you everything and you let me die-!']
[Waver had largely tuned out the guilt-tripping poltergeists by now. He knew damn well that listening much longer would only hurt. Merely registering those last two voices had caused a distinct pain to settle in his chest with no sign of leaving. Oh, well. it would be over soon enough, just like all the other experiments. He'd just have to keep busy until--]
['I thought you better than this, Master.']
[If Kayneth's voice had left a crack in his metaphorical armor, it was that one which broke it completely. The sharp and cold shell of Lord El-Melloi's persona had shattered in no more than seven words, and for a moment Waver Velvet was very, very vulnerable.]
['You were the one for whom I would have done even the impossible. And this is how you repay everything I sacrificed? An entire world is dead and ruined while you alone survive. I thought you the kind to lay aside your own life for those more deserving, but I was wrong. You're a coward now just as you always were.']
Dia--
[No. Waver stopped sharply, cutting himself and his current train of thought off entirely. This was not real. He'd determined that mere moments beforehand, so clearly Jason or the tower itself had brought out the heavy artillery. His one real weak point.]
[Most in this situation would give up, he knew. Scream, cry, argue or beg forgiveness in the face of such pressure. With the hatred of Kayneth's words that still lingered in his mind a decade later...with the guilt of letting down Eskardos and Ismene both...and with the pain of his only friend calling him a coward, it would have been easy to break.]
[But Waver Velvet did not break. He snapped.]
Will you piss off--?! I am not in the fucking mood for this, so get lost and let me carry on with my day or I'll call a goddamned exorcist, do you comprehend that?!
[Completely enraged for the first time in longer than he cared to remember, Waver snarled in a voice he didn't even fully register as his own.]
If you really wanted me to believe this nonsense, you'd have Eskardos babbling like a brainless idiot instead of stringing coherent sentences! And honestly, none of you could even cobble together some form of projection? Our big threat this month is talking goddamned smoke?
[He folded his arms, tone cooling from 'fury' to 'critical sarcasm' as was his typical coping mechanism. Get angry and then belittle whatever made him angry to hell and back.]
I'm insulted that you thought it would be that easy. All four of you get out of my sight before I really get pissed off that you're talking so much in a library.
[Stopping after that frustrated outburst, Waver shut his book with a snap and placed it back on the shelf, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands and walking straight past the shadows like they'd never been there to begin with.]
[Later, he'd wonder if he just shouted eldritch abominations into submission. But for now, all four shadows trailing just behind him, there was someone he needed to talk to.]
Setting: Floor 3
Format: Either
Summary: Some people get depressed, others get angry.
Warnings: Standard Individuation warnings plus one for Waver's terrible language.
[Waver had generally ignored the four shadows that had been trailing behind him at varying distances the past few days. There was a lot on his mind, and some spectral nonsense ranked very low on his list of priorities.]
[So it caught him completely off guard when one spoke. Not just spoke, spoke in a voice he knew. As haughty and disdainful as it had been ten years before, the words spoken caused the lecturer to freeze in place and drop the book he'd been holding.]
['Blood determines a mage's strength.']
[He spun around, automatically scowling and ready to throw a punch right into the speaker's smug face...but the one he knew to have owned that voice was nowhere in sight. Just the same shadows, yet now one seemed to have shifted. It was far from a perfect silhouette, and yet it carried the air of that superior stance, that arrogant and cold magus Waver had hated so much--]
['Is this what your precious 'hard work' results in, Waver Velvet? You're nothing. You were destined to be nothing. Now the entire world is nothing--and it's entirely your fault. A proper magus could have prevented all this. If a real aristocrat had taken this title, he could have saved the world long before it was in ruins--not scramble to repair what no longer exists.']
[What? This was some kind of sick joke, right? Was this supposed to be some kind of poltergeist that spoke in his predecessor's voice? Waver staggered backwards, leaning against the bookshelf as though bracing himself against some form of attack.]
Really, this is it? Now I'm starting to think your illusions aren't even trying to look real.
[A second among the shadows spoke up at Waver's sarcastic dismissal, using the lazily spoken tones of a teenage boy.]
['Geez...I must be as stupid as you think. I really thought you could do anything, Professor. But I guess I couldn't expect a third-generation magus to save us. I bet you're glad to be rid of me, yeah?']
[Green eyes narrowed and turned cold. Don't argue with it. he told himself. Now you know this isn't real. With whatever ironclad logic he'd used to make that deduction, Waver did little more than shrug, pick up the book he'd dropped, and turn back to the shelf to disregard the shadows once again.]
['Don't you dare ignore me, Velvet.' The third was the voice of a teenage girl, her voice prideful and cold as only aristocracy could be. 'You let me die. I gave you everything and you let me die-!']
[Waver had largely tuned out the guilt-tripping poltergeists by now. He knew damn well that listening much longer would only hurt. Merely registering those last two voices had caused a distinct pain to settle in his chest with no sign of leaving. Oh, well. it would be over soon enough, just like all the other experiments. He'd just have to keep busy until--]
['I thought you better than this, Master.']
[If Kayneth's voice had left a crack in his metaphorical armor, it was that one which broke it completely. The sharp and cold shell of Lord El-Melloi's persona had shattered in no more than seven words, and for a moment Waver Velvet was very, very vulnerable.]
['You were the one for whom I would have done even the impossible. And this is how you repay everything I sacrificed? An entire world is dead and ruined while you alone survive. I thought you the kind to lay aside your own life for those more deserving, but I was wrong. You're a coward now just as you always were.']
Dia--
[No. Waver stopped sharply, cutting himself and his current train of thought off entirely. This was not real. He'd determined that mere moments beforehand, so clearly Jason or the tower itself had brought out the heavy artillery. His one real weak point.]
[Most in this situation would give up, he knew. Scream, cry, argue or beg forgiveness in the face of such pressure. With the hatred of Kayneth's words that still lingered in his mind a decade later...with the guilt of letting down Eskardos and Ismene both...and with the pain of his only friend calling him a coward, it would have been easy to break.]
[But Waver Velvet did not break. He snapped.]
Will you piss off--?! I am not in the fucking mood for this, so get lost and let me carry on with my day or I'll call a goddamned exorcist, do you comprehend that?!
[Completely enraged for the first time in longer than he cared to remember, Waver snarled in a voice he didn't even fully register as his own.]
If you really wanted me to believe this nonsense, you'd have Eskardos babbling like a brainless idiot instead of stringing coherent sentences! And honestly, none of you could even cobble together some form of projection? Our big threat this month is talking goddamned smoke?
[He folded his arms, tone cooling from 'fury' to 'critical sarcasm' as was his typical coping mechanism. Get angry and then belittle whatever made him angry to hell and back.]
I'm insulted that you thought it would be that easy. All four of you get out of my sight before I really get pissed off that you're talking so much in a library.
[Stopping after that frustrated outburst, Waver shut his book with a snap and placed it back on the shelf, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands and walking straight past the shadows like they'd never been there to begin with.]
[Later, he'd wonder if he just shouted eldritch abominations into submission. But for now, all four shadows trailing just behind him, there was someone he needed to talk to.]
no subject
no subject
I mean that as the matter concerns him personally, and as you yourself-- concern him personally, that it would be only meet and proper to confide in your Servant.
[Waver, you're being given a sort of incredulous/commonsensical look by a former Knight of the Round Table. Enjoy.]
no subject
I...don't want him to worry needlessly. That's all.
no subject
Like as not, whether you will it or not, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne senses your distress in the Bond you share. You might well find that Talk will lessen Worry, rather than increase it.
[Lancelot exhales a tolerant sigh. He's beginning to miss being Mad. What with all of these Feelings flying around.]