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bashfulshifter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-11-22 11:11 am
bashfulshifter) wrote in towerofanimus2013-11-22 11:11 am
who is 'Rocky' and why is his montage music playing
Characters: Rick and YOU
Setting: November 22nd, multiple places - Floor One Dorms (morning), Floor Thirty-Nine (early afternoon), Floor Twenty-Seven (mid-afternoon), Floor Twenty-Six (mid-afternoon), Floor Twenty-Five (late afternoon)
Format: Starting in brackets, will match as always!
Summary: Rick's typical Tower routine now includes attempting to get in shape with Reno. Let's watch and see what happens.
Warnings: Probably none?
Floor One Dorms - Morning - Obligatory Cat Patrol
[It's very unusual for Rick to sleep in like this. It probably doesn't seem so out-of-the-ordinary for most others--nine o'clock isn't exactly high noon--but it's late enough to throw the man off his schedule and make him more harried than usual. Or as harried as he can be, given that the whole reason he couldn't drag himself out of bed was that he ached.]
[It's been more than a week since he and Reno started training like they agreed last month, and it hasn't taken long for Rick to start feeling its more unpleasant side-effects. The increased energy and svelte physique will have to wait on his legs, he supposes, which is what he would remind himself after every extended walk up the Tower stairs to convince himself that he could wait. But now he's made someone a promise--someone who appears quite invested in working with him--and Rick is determined not to let him down.]
[...Which only makes running late worse.]
[For as sore as he is, the blonde man goes about his morning routine very quickly, almost leaping from his bed in 1-16 to shower and dress--but no amount of convincing can persuade Rusty the cat against patrolling his floor. Somewhat reluctantly, the orange tabby cat makes his rounds in a nervous, almost frantic state, rubbing his face on just about anything that gets in his way.]
Floor Thirty-Nine (Gym) - Early Afternoon - MONTAGE
[Rick is already out of breath by the time he gets to the gym, which probably isn't the best way to start things out; but then again, he's not sure what he's supposed to be doing here, anyways. The man has never been to a gym in his life--he has no idea how to work any of the equipment, nor does he trust himself to try, and he's certainly not about to walk up and ask someone...]
[...Well, there's a track, at least. While he waits for Reno to show up (taking his breakfast on the run has made up for a lot of lost time!), Rick busies himself by walking the outer ring and seeing if he can spot anyone he recognizes. This is an unfamiliar part of the Tower, and it's been in his experience that new places bring interesting insight to the lives of his friends.]
Floors Twenty-Seven and Twenty-Six (Lab/Morgue) - Mid-Afternoon - More Standard Tower Affairs
[Following his run in the gym, Rick still has many other things to attend to in his daily routine. His jobs, as usual, take priority.]
[Collar research with the Clear Team is what he typically ends his day with, but this time Rick finds himself in the lab first. For one thing it's a straight walk down the stairs; for another, he's somewhat hesitant to go to the morgue. He hasn't been since his fight with Sephiroth a few days ago--since Veronica watched him die--and he hasn't had the chance to talk with her.]
[...No, not the chance--the nerve. He doesn't even know if she died as well. Either way, he feels that he's failed her on a fundamental level, and the idea of confronting her is...daunting, to say the least. Though the lab, too, isn't entirely safe; they have a new helper, someone related to Edgeworth, and while Rick was present for the initial meeting where she was introduced, he was quick to make a quiet escape before she whipped him like she did Lancer. A very intimidating woman, to be sure! Hopefully he's working at a time when she isn't around--save him some embarrassment before hesitantly making his way to the morgue to face his fate.]
Floor Twenty-Five (Meadow) - Late Afternoon - Napping
[By the end of lunch, what frantic energy Rick had at the start of the day has long been expended. He decides that now would be a good time for a nap.]
[The meadow's tranquil atmosphere has yet to let him down on this end. Blanket and cleaning supplies in hand, Rick settles into the tall grass and prepares to drift off in the pleasant, sunny chill of autumn, even as the frost collects in the foliage around him. This is probably the last time he'll be able to do this until spring, and he plans to enjoy every moment of it.]
[Assuming he doesn't catch cold or something.]
Setting: November 22nd, multiple places - Floor One Dorms (morning), Floor Thirty-Nine (early afternoon), Floor Twenty-Seven (mid-afternoon), Floor Twenty-Six (mid-afternoon), Floor Twenty-Five (late afternoon)
Format: Starting in brackets, will match as always!
Summary: Rick's typical Tower routine now includes attempting to get in shape with Reno. Let's watch and see what happens.
Warnings: Probably none?
Floor One Dorms - Morning - Obligatory Cat Patrol
[It's very unusual for Rick to sleep in like this. It probably doesn't seem so out-of-the-ordinary for most others--nine o'clock isn't exactly high noon--but it's late enough to throw the man off his schedule and make him more harried than usual. Or as harried as he can be, given that the whole reason he couldn't drag himself out of bed was that he ached.]
[It's been more than a week since he and Reno started training like they agreed last month, and it hasn't taken long for Rick to start feeling its more unpleasant side-effects. The increased energy and svelte physique will have to wait on his legs, he supposes, which is what he would remind himself after every extended walk up the Tower stairs to convince himself that he could wait. But now he's made someone a promise--someone who appears quite invested in working with him--and Rick is determined not to let him down.]
[...Which only makes running late worse.]
[For as sore as he is, the blonde man goes about his morning routine very quickly, almost leaping from his bed in 1-16 to shower and dress--but no amount of convincing can persuade Rusty the cat against patrolling his floor. Somewhat reluctantly, the orange tabby cat makes his rounds in a nervous, almost frantic state, rubbing his face on just about anything that gets in his way.]
Floor Thirty-Nine (Gym) - Early Afternoon - MONTAGE
[Rick is already out of breath by the time he gets to the gym, which probably isn't the best way to start things out; but then again, he's not sure what he's supposed to be doing here, anyways. The man has never been to a gym in his life--he has no idea how to work any of the equipment, nor does he trust himself to try, and he's certainly not about to walk up and ask someone...]
[...Well, there's a track, at least. While he waits for Reno to show up (taking his breakfast on the run has made up for a lot of lost time!), Rick busies himself by walking the outer ring and seeing if he can spot anyone he recognizes. This is an unfamiliar part of the Tower, and it's been in his experience that new places bring interesting insight to the lives of his friends.]
Floors Twenty-Seven and Twenty-Six (Lab/Morgue) - Mid-Afternoon - More Standard Tower Affairs
[Following his run in the gym, Rick still has many other things to attend to in his daily routine. His jobs, as usual, take priority.]
[Collar research with the Clear Team is what he typically ends his day with, but this time Rick finds himself in the lab first. For one thing it's a straight walk down the stairs; for another, he's somewhat hesitant to go to the morgue. He hasn't been since his fight with Sephiroth a few days ago--since Veronica watched him die--and he hasn't had the chance to talk with her.]
[...No, not the chance--the nerve. He doesn't even know if she died as well. Either way, he feels that he's failed her on a fundamental level, and the idea of confronting her is...daunting, to say the least. Though the lab, too, isn't entirely safe; they have a new helper, someone related to Edgeworth, and while Rick was present for the initial meeting where she was introduced, he was quick to make a quiet escape before she whipped him like she did Lancer. A very intimidating woman, to be sure! Hopefully he's working at a time when she isn't around--save him some embarrassment before hesitantly making his way to the morgue to face his fate.]
Floor Twenty-Five (Meadow) - Late Afternoon - Napping
[By the end of lunch, what frantic energy Rick had at the start of the day has long been expended. He decides that now would be a good time for a nap.]
[The meadow's tranquil atmosphere has yet to let him down on this end. Blanket and cleaning supplies in hand, Rick settles into the tall grass and prepares to drift off in the pleasant, sunny chill of autumn, even as the frost collects in the foliage around him. This is probably the last time he'll be able to do this until spring, and he plans to enjoy every moment of it.]
[Assuming he doesn't catch cold or something.]
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[Waver himself hadn't turned around; it seemed a bit like he'd rather carry on a difficult conversation while working.]
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N-No, just...I w-w-wanted to m-make s-sure you knew...h-how much it, uh...
[He bites his lip, wondering how far he should go with this. There are several things he knows for certain: that Waver and Diarmuid are magically bound, have obviously been together for some time. That they fight together seamlessly, and that Waver would drop everything to stand by him, as he'd done on the beach. That Diarumid had very tenderly kissed Waver on the head when they finally escaped the monsters a couple months ago. It's taken him long enough to put the pieces together, but someone like Rick can never be too certain about his assumptions, no matter how long he's considered them--particularly since it seems like Waver might be oblivious or in denial.]
...Waver, I...I-I c-c-can't h-help him as m-much a-as I'd l-like to. I-It w-would m-m-mean s-so much m-more if...i-if y-you...
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[Sighing quietly, Waver brushed a few loose strands of black hair out of his face.]
But you don't need to ask. If he needs something, it's only natural I'll do the best I'm able to.
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...G-Good. He...c-cares a l-lot, about w-what...what y-you think o-of him. Just...you w-won't have to do m-much. A-As long as he knows that...you c-care...it'll m-mean the w-w-world to him. I'm s-sure of it.
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Do you know anything about why Diarmuid and I are practically glued to each other?
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...M-Magic?
[Yeah that sounds about right.]
1/2; i'm so sorry you hit the tl;dr switch rick
When I was a teenager, I was this little loudmouthed stick of a thing. There's some other version running about here, you might've met him. And the drawback of being a teenager no one listens to is that you're bound to do some stupid shit. So I stole a magic catalyst from a very unpleasant teacher, did a little research, and entered this thing called the Holy Grail War hoping to win myself some recognition.
In summary what that war amounts to is 'seven magi summon heroic spirits to fight for a stupid relic that supposedly grants wishes'. In my world, I summoned a Servant under the class of Lancer--that would be Diarmuid.
[Pausing as though he was trying to determine how much to say, Waver lit a cigarette before setting himself to continue straightening up the laboratory.]
...I don't have any family, and I definitely don't have any friends. My life at the Clock Tower was one of being overlooked and underfoot. So when I met someone that actually gave a fuck about whether I lived or died and listened when I spoke? It was...pretty strange.
[That was a lot to admit to all at once. Punctuating it with a shrug seemed appropriate to make it look like it didn't matter.]
But it was a war, after all. He died, I didn't--that was nearly ten years ago. I traveled a little, came back to London, and stumbled my way to a teaching position. So...even if I couldn't see him again, I wanted to make sure I had been someone worth swearing loyalty to.
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Then I come straight from my office to this hellhole. Can you imagine how confused I was? He walks right up to me with no idea of everything we'd done? No, in his world he was stuck with my fucking predecessor. Hell of a nerve this place has, don't you think?
Let me bring this story to a point. Back home, a decade ago, the Diarmuid I knew and the one you know now aren't the same. Oh, they're the same figure with the same name and same life, sure. But this one, being stuck with fucking Kayneth-- [He spat the name like acid, legitimate anger in his voice for just a moment before Waver cut himself off]
...This one isn't the same. Diarmuid, the one here? He needs someone that gives a damn about him the same as my Lancer once did about me. Someone that understands how much of a raging self-righteous wanker the previous Lord El-Melloi was, maybe.
I don't know if I'm reliable enough to be that person, Rick. But I know I'd give anything and everything I have for this one. Maybe that's some sick way of trying to repay the Lancer I knew or maybe not--between you and me, sometimes I just don't know. Either way, I'd say it's the best we have.
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...W-Waver...if a-a-anyone is c-capable of b-being that p-person, it's you. Y-You s-s-said it y-yourself--you're w-willing to do a-anything for him. That...s-sounds like you're r-reliable e-enough, d-d-doesn't it?
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[Shaking his head, Waver spoke flatly--all while trying to determine why he was suddenly so open. He was clearly far more out of it than he'd realized.]
I'm a tremendous fuckup. Just because I would do anything doesn't mean I can.
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What're y--
[ever seen waver turn about as red as iskander with a sunburn, rick? now you have.]
Oh. Oh fuck, I said too much. I stood here running my fucking mouth like a braindead lovesick student and now I look like an idiot.
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--S-Sorry, s-s-sorry--no, there--th--there's n-nothing w-wrong with a-any of this! I--I mean I know I s-sound j-just as bad, a-and...
[A beat; Rick gathers his nerves, grows more serious.]
...this is g-good, Waver. H-Having s-s-someone like D-Diarumid is a g-great thing...I'm s-sorry if it s-s-sounded like I was, uh...t-teasing, I d-didn't mean to...
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I'm not worth deciding to live in an environment like that. For fuck's sake, I'm a twenty-nine year old teacher with no concept of familial or social interaction that communicates exclusively in sarcasm, cursing, or magical technobabble bullshit.
How the hell am I meant to expect anyone--especially someone with just even more right than me to hate magi-- to put up with that whole society with a fucked up person like me as the only consolation prize?
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[This is all, of course, wild extrapolation--but spoken from a man who was in Diarmuid's position some years ago, and who hopes he understands what motivations he has in carrying on a relationship with the mild-mannered scholar. Codi could be just as sharp on the outset, and just as self-deprecating if caught in a more emotional setting. There are differences, obviously, but...he finds the whole thing surprisingly easy to relate to. This may or may not be a huge mistake.]
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...but yes, I would much rather have that than the alternative.
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[A beat.]
...W-Waver...d-d-don't m-make the same m-mistake I did and--a-and think he w-won't a-ah--accept you f-for who you a-are. He w-will...t-trust me.
[NOPE NOT LATE FOR THIS TRAIN AT ALL]
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