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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[Diarmuid taps at the scar under his eye with his free hand.]
How often do I get genuine compliments? And besides, they are from you. That means everything to me.
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[Diarmuid looks down self-consciously.]
So many of the compliments I heard in the past were just because of my curse. Maybe it is stupid, but to hear genuine compliments is a very good feeling after that.
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No, I think we have been over the fact that we don't do flattery enough times now to know that.
[He doesn't comment on the vain and selfish part. While he knows he's become more selfish since coming here, it is still very hard for him to admit that it is actually okay.]
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No, that isn't in your nature. It is part of the reason I like hearing them from you so much. You aren't going to say something if it isn't true.
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[Diarmuid laughs.]
Be honest...
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[Diarmuid laughs again and shakes his head.]
I think you are reaching, my friend...
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It is a pretty nice smile, isn't it?
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[Diarmuid gives him an innocent look.]
What is so dangerous about me?
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That is what the weighted ends of my spears are for...
[Dear god, he might be learning the art of deadpan responses. Run!]
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[Diarmuid laughs and remembers the wine in his hand, pausing to take a drink.]
Then by all means, direct me back...