Lord El-Melloi II [AU] (
fionnuisce) wrote in
towerofanimus2013-09-02 04:35 pm
[open] // do what we must because we can
Characters: Waver and open
Setting: Floor 27, cafeteria, dorm floors
Format: Either
Summary: Tea, science, and sleep are Waver's priorities. In that order.
Warnings: None yet.
[floor 27]
[Waver had spent the majority of his time in the laboratory; being the leader of the group researching the clear collar fluid, he might have felt obligated even if it didn't fascinate him. Luckily (for some value of the word), he was a researcher that often became utterly absorbed in his work to the point of forgetting everything else. 'Minor' things like sleeping and eating, for example.]
[Though he hid it the best he could, if the ponytail-wearing magus looked exhausted that was likely no one's imagination. Today he was looking over his own hastily-written notes and narrowing his eyes at the container of fluid itself as though it had perhaps insulted his mother, thin cloud of cigarette smoke hanging in the air in front of him.]
[cafeteria]
[It was a remarkably simple thing, tea. Last time it was available, Waver had taken quite a bit of it to store in his trunk (along with a whole lot of alcohol.)]
[Then, glamour failure. If asked for one petty thing Waver would never forgive the administrators for, he would always answer with that.]
[Needless to say, he'd finally dragged himself away from his work long enough to enjoy the shift in provisions. Today in the cafeteria one could find a magus in a black and green suit sitting by himself, looking over near-incomprehensible notes with a cup of tea in his hand.]
[And if one happens upon him in the evening, it's likely he's minding his own business and leaving with a bottle of wine or two, liquid mercury maid trailing a step behind him.]
[dorm floors]
[Only at some ungodly hour did Waver finally give up for the night and leave the laboratory, Volumen Hydragyrum behind him carrying two bottles of wine. If he was willing to stop at all, it was likely he'd reached his physical limit or damn near to it. Sure enough, it had been several days since he slept a full night--or slept, period. As a result Waver was pale and walking just a little unsteadily, but at least he didn't seem ready to drop dead.]
[Drop into a coma when he got to his room, sure. But not drop dead.]
Setting: Floor 27, cafeteria, dorm floors
Format: Either
Summary: Tea, science, and sleep are Waver's priorities. In that order.
Warnings: None yet.
[floor 27]
[Waver had spent the majority of his time in the laboratory; being the leader of the group researching the clear collar fluid, he might have felt obligated even if it didn't fascinate him. Luckily (for some value of the word), he was a researcher that often became utterly absorbed in his work to the point of forgetting everything else. 'Minor' things like sleeping and eating, for example.]
[Though he hid it the best he could, if the ponytail-wearing magus looked exhausted that was likely no one's imagination. Today he was looking over his own hastily-written notes and narrowing his eyes at the container of fluid itself as though it had perhaps insulted his mother, thin cloud of cigarette smoke hanging in the air in front of him.]
[cafeteria]
[It was a remarkably simple thing, tea. Last time it was available, Waver had taken quite a bit of it to store in his trunk (along with a whole lot of alcohol.)]
[Then, glamour failure. If asked for one petty thing Waver would never forgive the administrators for, he would always answer with that.]
[Needless to say, he'd finally dragged himself away from his work long enough to enjoy the shift in provisions. Today in the cafeteria one could find a magus in a black and green suit sitting by himself, looking over near-incomprehensible notes with a cup of tea in his hand.]
[And if one happens upon him in the evening, it's likely he's minding his own business and leaving with a bottle of wine or two, liquid mercury maid trailing a step behind him.]
[dorm floors]
[Only at some ungodly hour did Waver finally give up for the night and leave the laboratory, Volumen Hydragyrum behind him carrying two bottles of wine. If he was willing to stop at all, it was likely he'd reached his physical limit or damn near to it. Sure enough, it had been several days since he slept a full night--or slept, period. As a result Waver was pale and walking just a little unsteadily, but at least he didn't seem ready to drop dead.]
[Drop into a coma when he got to his room, sure. But not drop dead.]

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[Diarmuid reaches up to stroke Waver's hair.]
Do you think you're ready to give that a try?
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[Yes, he did just duck back behind his arm. Diarmuid is fully expecting to be hit for that.]
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[Waver apparently didn't feel up to much more than a frown and halfhearted shove.]
Don't be stupid.
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Cute. Especially when you are being all frowny and pouty like you are now.
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[Laughing softly, Waver settled himself against Diarmuid's chest with seemingly no intention of moving. The comparison to a cat might not have been entirely inaccurate.]
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[Diarmuid settles his hand on Waver's head, lightly stroking his hair.]
Now sleep, Mo Stór. As always, I will be here when you wake.
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[Making himself comfortable with a small, contented sigh, Waver muttered something indistinct that was likely to have simply been 'good night'.]
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[Diarmuid strokes his friend's hair again.]
Sleep now. Good night.