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)
towerofanimus2013-10-02 04:33 pm
fionnuisce) wrote in towerofanimus2013-10-02 04:33 pm
Entry tags:
[dated 10/3] // don't stop me now
Characters: Waver and open
Setting: dorm floors, floor 3, closed prompt on floor 4
Format: Either
Summary: Birthday? What birthday? Waver doesn't know what you're talking about.
Warnings: None yet.
[dormitory floors]
[Birthdays weren't of any particular importance to Waver Velvet. He noted his age like any other normal person, but thought little of it. October third was just a day, same as the second or the fourth. There was no point in calling attention to it or informing people who would in turn make the entire thing some elaborate production.]
[Even though the date was of no consequence to him, the magus had to wonder if the timing of the new item appearing in his trunk was more than mere coincidence. It was simple in appearance, just a metal case small enough to just barely fit in one's hand. The more he looked at it, the more Waver noticed it seemed just faintly charred in places. Whatever it was and whatever the reason it looked damaged in that way, Waver wasn't too pleased about it. He slipped the case into his coat pocket, walking out of his dormitory room and going to walk the halls aimlessly with a clear scowl on his face. Maybe if he wandered the Tower for long enough, he'd forget what kind of miserable day this was shaping up to be.]
[floor 3]
[When someone like Waver was in a particularly unpleasant mood, the coping mechanism was usually the same; head to the library with a cup of tea and occupy oneself with a collection of books. A small amount of various fiction was piled neatly on the table Waver had claimed today; seeming to be mostly leaning towards classical fiction. What he focused on specifically seemed to be a copy of the Iliad; Waver remembered his alternate self mentioning some odd fondness for it. There had been an odd sense of something like nostalgia when that particular text caught his eye, and so he'd decided 'why the hell not'.]
[While he seemed in less miserable spirits than he was upon leaving his room earlier, it was anyone's guess whether he'd stay that way if interrupted. Try your luck?]
[floor 4; closed tooathshackledbird]
[It had occurred to Waver severalhundred times already that he probably should have been working. There was a lot to do back in the laboratory, but at the same time he doubted anyone, himself included, would be in a condition to do much at all after the recent unpleasantness. One day of being a useless mess likely wouldn't cause catastrophe.]
[Eventually he found his way to a relatively isolated corner of the lounge floor, taking a small notebook and pen from his pocket. It was far too long since he'd had any time to update the mess of theories he'd had about the Tower, and most of it was vastly outdated. If he wasn't going to work on anything else, that at least seemed like a reasonable way to waste time.]
Setting: dorm floors, floor 3, closed prompt on floor 4
Format: Either
Summary: Birthday? What birthday? Waver doesn't know what you're talking about.
Warnings: None yet.
[dormitory floors]
[Birthdays weren't of any particular importance to Waver Velvet. He noted his age like any other normal person, but thought little of it. October third was just a day, same as the second or the fourth. There was no point in calling attention to it or informing people who would in turn make the entire thing some elaborate production.]
[Even though the date was of no consequence to him, the magus had to wonder if the timing of the new item appearing in his trunk was more than mere coincidence. It was simple in appearance, just a metal case small enough to just barely fit in one's hand. The more he looked at it, the more Waver noticed it seemed just faintly charred in places. Whatever it was and whatever the reason it looked damaged in that way, Waver wasn't too pleased about it. He slipped the case into his coat pocket, walking out of his dormitory room and going to walk the halls aimlessly with a clear scowl on his face. Maybe if he wandered the Tower for long enough, he'd forget what kind of miserable day this was shaping up to be.]
[floor 3]
[When someone like Waver was in a particularly unpleasant mood, the coping mechanism was usually the same; head to the library with a cup of tea and occupy oneself with a collection of books. A small amount of various fiction was piled neatly on the table Waver had claimed today; seeming to be mostly leaning towards classical fiction. What he focused on specifically seemed to be a copy of the Iliad; Waver remembered his alternate self mentioning some odd fondness for it. There had been an odd sense of something like nostalgia when that particular text caught his eye, and so he'd decided 'why the hell not'.]
[While he seemed in less miserable spirits than he was upon leaving his room earlier, it was anyone's guess whether he'd stay that way if interrupted. Try your luck?]
[floor 4; closed to
oathshackledbird][It had occurred to Waver several
[Eventually he found his way to a relatively isolated corner of the lounge floor, taking a small notebook and pen from his pocket. It was far too long since he'd had any time to update the mess of theories he'd had about the Tower, and most of it was vastly outdated. If he wasn't going to work on anything else, that at least seemed like a reasonable way to waste time.]
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[Rick grins stupidly, but soon realizes just how unbelievably weird the past minute or so of conversation has been and is too mortified with himself to say anything else. What's worse is that all he can think about to move this along is to show Codi's picture in his wallet, and talk about how much he misses her. Which would make things so unbearably uncomfortable that Rick can hardly stand to think about it.]
[...Hey Waver, remember when you said Rick looked like he might faint earlier?]
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[Nope, too embarrassed with himself to salvage. Abort mission! Abort!]
...I-I'll just...m-maybe I should...
[Very slowly, Rick turns on his heel and starts to walk away.]
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[When Professor Socially Awkward is genuinely concerned he upset you, you know you're probably special.]
I'm...sorry. I probably shouldn't have brought up family in a place like this. [Not that he'd know.]
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[Rick stops and glances over his shoulder with wide blue eyes, simultaneously anxious and concerned.]
...N-No, it's...you've d-done n-nothing wrong. I...
[Sigh.]
...I-I've been in...k-kind of a f-fog the p-past few d-days. Just r-r-remembering...I d-didn't mean to m-make you feel a-awkward or a-anything.
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What's wrong? I doubt it's much I could assist with, but it's worth a shot.
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...It's...this s-silly w-wallet. [He grabs it from his pocket again and idly flips through the pockets, rather flustered.] I-It's l-like my--m-my w-whole life is in h-here. I-I c-can't...h-help but f-feel s-s-sentimental.
[A beat. His eyes linger on a small photograph in the laminated front pocket--himself and a lovely lady with red hair, dressed to the nines in a brightly-lit hall. Rick was caught by surprise and thought he looked like kind of a dope, but Codi thought it was cute so he'd kept it.]
...W-What if this i-is all I h-have left?
[..Welp. So much for not talking about their regains and pasts and baggage and junk, huh?]
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Simultaneously, I also can't say all hope is lost, or that we'll definitely fail. Quite the contrary, I would say we have a reasonable chance of putting things back as they were. So personally, I'd try to save 'what if' for if and when our odds tip one way or the other.
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...Y-You're right. [Rick sniffs cynically and stares at the floor.] Here I a-am, t-telling p-people we h-have hope in the a-absence of e-e-everything else, and...I c-can't even k-keep to that m-myself. Such a...a h-h-hypocrite.
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[If that was true, Waver certainly wasn't showing it. He looked collected as ever, shrugging and folding his arms before changing the subject.]
...Would you tell me about her?
[Wait a minute. The world might be ending (again), is he smiling?]
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[A smile creeps over his face. Seeing Waver happy is a fine enough surprise; asking him to brag about his wife makes him almost giddy. Rick shuffles his feet and blushes a particularly bashful shade of pink. He still holds the wallet in his hand.]
...Dakota P-Perkins...God, w-where do I e-even start?... [The answer seems to present itself in her picture, which he stares at to ground himself--or else talk so quickly that he stumbles over his own words, which he does regardless.] --I-I g-guess--well she's--a-absolutely the most s-s-stunningly b-beautiful lady I-I've ever met, but--that goes w-w-without s-saying. You w-wouldn't know by l-looking at her, b-but she's...very i-inventive. G-Great i-i-imagination. It's like...w-whenever s-s-something goes w-wrong, she c-can a-always find s-some way to m-make it b-better. She's very, uh...p-p-persistent, that way.
[Phew, that was a lot of talking. Rick takes a quick breather.]
...A-And if your i-ideas w-won't work, well...she'll be the f-first one to t-tell you. [He laughs somewhat nervously.] U-Usually people l-learn to just...let her t-take th--things over. Sh--She's h-happiest when she can l-lead o-others...or h-help g-g-guide them, at least. People a-always look up to h-her, though. She just h-has that--th--that way a-around her, you know?
[Rick scoffs, shakes his head.]
...Still a-amazes me how...s-someone like her c-could ever n-n-notice s-someone like... [Sigh!] ...She's f-far too good f-for me.
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I think perhaps you sell yourself a bit short. Even so, she sounds like a fantastic woman. And you seem quite taken with her.
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A-Ah, well...I c-can only h-hope she f-f-feels the same way.
...Of c-course I...w-wouldn't be too s-surprised if sh--she's just k-keeping me a-around for my c-cooking.
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[jesus christ on a cracker now he's making jokes, run for the hills]
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In th--that case--I h-have c-c-competition. We h-have a cat.
[Two anomalous things at once: Waver cracking jokes and Rick responding to them with jokes of his own.]
All she n-needs to do is t-teach him h-how to w-work a-a-accounting and I'll be o-out of the h-house.
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Start with the minor goals, I suppose.
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...Hey, uh...th--thanks. I...n-needed that.
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[SHRUG]
...S-S-So...you h-had b-breakfast yet? I c-could...
[He trails off rather abruptly and his eyes wander, as if being called from a distance. He seems peculiarly irked by this.]
...w-well I'll be d-down there in a-about an h-hour, a-anyways. G-Gotta finish p-patrol.
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[Rick waves politely and, making sure Waver has nothing else to add first, starts casually walking forward--then shifts back into the orange tabby from before, who continues happily trotting onward. He'll stop to rub his face against Waver's leg before going back about his business.]
(no subject)