[open] // watch me stumble over and over

[fionnuisce]

Characters: Waver and open
Date: December 25th, 26th, and 27th
Location: mailroom, laboratory, dorm floors
Format: starting in brackets
Summary: The wonderful thing about Nasuverse magic is nothing. Nothing is wonderful.
Warnings: None yet.

[floor 78; 12/25]

[It had been a disappointing holiday, to make a hilariously extreme understatement. Waver had hoped to at least make an attempt at exchanging gifts with the few people he actually liked, but then things went all pear-shaped. A Christmas invasion of plague doctors seemed a strange thing to accept as quickly as one would accept poor weather, but that was just how this place operated.]

[Today, his minor concern was sorting out a few sheets of neatly and carefully folded notebook paper, placing a few letters written in the infirmary in their designated place. A more major worry was the strange sensation of pins and needles that occasionally spread through his body like a shiver. Assuming it was the start of a cold brought on by the miserable weather, the lecturer settled for making careful note of it as well as the oddly sore feeling in his shoulder. Slept at a wrong angle, maybe?]

[The idea that either could have been a symptom of something more pressing hadn't yet occurred to him. Whether that was due to exhaustion or just being outright done with the Tower's nonsense for this month was hard to tell.]

[floor 27; 12/26]

[Some people probably thought their work was done with this latest breakthrough regarding collar fluid. 'Some people' were not Waver. Now that things had settled down somewhat, he again returned to the laboratory to carefully look over his notes, spending hours reading over them like he expected to find something previously missed.]

[Those hours passed with Waver persistently disregarding the growing ache in the back of his shoulder. Yesterday's odd pins and needles sensation was for the moment something he could ignore, but whatever was wrong with Waver's shoulder grew steadily worse as he tried to concentrate on working.]

[Eventually, the thoroughly irritated magus stood from his chair and looked around--maybe he could go find some ice to put on it. Whatever injury he'd sustained, it was starting to feel as though it was burning-]

Fucking hell, don't tell me.

[The problem with being a magus (one of many problems, Waver would often argue) was that the ability to use magic was something unnatural on a biological level. To begin with, Magic Circuits were something like a nervous system in operation, but at the same time they were something a normal human body would essentially reject. Activating them caused even the best magi some level of pain.]

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, this isn't good-

[But far more problematic was the issue of a Magic Crest. They acted as another form of Circuits, engraved into the body of a magical family's heir when that heir was still young. Waver's own was of no considerable size or strength, but his current state of genuine fear came from a number of problems that now presented themselves.]

[A Magic Crest was meant to be passed down little by little, while the heir was still young. The older one was when it was implanted, the more likely their body would be to fight and attempt to reject it.]

[Waver recalled three things: one, that he was currently twenty-five years older than he'd been when he inherited his mother's crest. Two, if this was indeed what was happening now, he severely doubted whatever process the new collar fluid was taking would be able to replicate the process correctly. Three: When it came right down to it, he had very little tolerance for pain.]

[There may or may not have been a half-restrained scream emanating from the laboratory about five minutes later, followed by the dull sound of someone falling back against a wall to stay standing.]

[dorm room 03-10; 12/27]

[Waver was not in good shape. The worst of the pain in his crest and circuits had begun to subside, but 'a little less than absolute torture' wasn't much improvement. He was honestly feeling better about the situation, however. He'd doubted for a moment this experiment would have favorable results, but if this was happening now then they'd made real progress.]

[Lying facedown on his bed with a pillow clamped over his head as if trying to shut out all of existence didn't look like 'optimism', but appearances could certainly be deceiving.]

Comments

[floor 27; 12/26]

[oathshackledbird]

[The fact that Diarmuid isn't far away when the scream reaches his ears shouldn't be surprising considering he has hardly left Waver's side since the magus lost his powers. The only reason he had stepped away now was to get some food for his partner, since it would be a cold day in the Tower when Waver actually remembered to eat for himself.

That food is discarded the moment the pain-filed sound reaches Diarmuid's ears and, less than a second later, he is in the Laboratory, one arm around Waver's shoulders trying to keep him upright while the other cups the man's face trying to sooth him.]

Mo Stór! What is wrong? Talk to me!

[Diarmuid can see no injury and no blood. What is going on?]

[fionnuisce]

[It took Waver a few seconds to string words together; the acquisition of a Magic Crest was difficult to describe. 'Being stabbed' was putting it lightly, and 'being stabbed with a flaming knife' didn't cover it either. If anything it felt rather like being branded, except it wasn't over nearly as quickly.]

I...m-miscalculated. [He managed to say that much, clutching at his shoulder as though that would help.] Nothing's wr-wrong, that's the--fuck, that hurts--that's the problem.

[oathshackledbird]

Miscalculation? I don't understand! How can nothing be wrong when you are in so much pain?

[His grip tightens slightly when Waver winces again just in case his partner's knees buckle from the pain.]

Forget it! Lets get you sitting down before you fall. Can you walk?

[fionnuisce]

This stupid fucking thing... [Scowling and tightening the grip on his shoulder, Waver leaned against Diarmuid and tried to get his legs to support him properly.]

M-my Magic Crest is trying to come back all at once--that's not how it's supposed to fucking work-- [Sure enough, his legs gave out before Waver could complain much further.]

[oathshackledbird]

All at on--

[Diarmuid's words cut off when Waver almost collapses. In the blink of an eye, he has stopped Waver's fall and gathered his partner into his arms, his plan changing slightly as he does. Forget bothering with sitting down in a chair. It's not like Waver is going to be able to work like this anyway.]

Hold on, we are going back to your room. You will be able to rest more easily there.

[fionnuisce]

[Waver's entire body had gone tense and rigid, but he didn't dare argue. In fact, he seemed pretty grateful for Diarmuid's decision this time.]

R...right. That's...that's probably the best idea.

[oathshackledbird]

Just try to relax. It won't take long. You know that.

[Diarmuid gives Waver a light squeeze and then takes off toward the dorms. Because they are so close to the bottom of the Tower it takes longer than Diarmuid would like to get back to the top, but it's still faster than taking the elevator.

Hopefully, the speed isn't too much for Waver to handle in the state he is in.]

[fionnuisce]

[The good part of this was that being jostled slightly didn't really affect matters. The bad part was that Waver was in far too much pain to actually tell the difference.]

I r..really should have seen this coming.

[oathshackledbird]

You're not perfect, Mo Stór, and it's not like you didn't have a million other things on your mind.

[Diarmuid still doesn't understand completely what is going on, but it's obvious this is something to do with Waver's powers from the way his partner keeps rubbing at his shoulder where his crest is. However much he wants to understand, Diarmuid knows that Waver will be more comfortable and probably more willing to be honest in the privacy of his room where no one will walk in and hear what he doesn't want them to hear. His questions can wait a short while longer.]

Don't be so hard on yourself over this. Here we are...

[He shifts Waver slightly so that he can open the door to the room and then goes inside.]

[floor 78; 12/25]

[megazero_to_superhero]

[Over in the Mailroom, David's taking a chance to check on his mail now that the madness has quieted down. He's not been very happy with himself, since there was little he could do to help in the recent crises that have been hitting the Tower—and it's largely his fault, he considers. His irritation's showing with the way he's muttering while glancing over a letter someone sent him this month, just before things got hairy.]

Yeah, some hero I'm turnin' out to be ...

[At the sound of someone else's presence in the mailroom, David glances up from the letter over to where Waver is.]

Oh, I ain't in yer way, am I?

[... maaaaybe he shouldn't be standing around blocking access to the PO boxes over here.]

[fionnuisce]

Just a bit, yes.

[Frowning, the teacher adjusted the sunglasses on top of his head.]

Mind taking maybe a step and a half off to your left?

[megazero_to_superhero]

Sure thing—

[And just like that, the plasma thrusters mounted on his back and boots flare to life, sending David aloft by a foot and or so. He floats a few feet away from the wall, giving Waver ample room—though he remains airbone.]

Sorry 'bout dat.

[The thrusters are relatively quiet—not quiet enough for any librarian, but nowhere loud enough to disrupt conversation.]

[fionnuisce]

...Bit more dramatic than I'd expected, but whatever gets the job done.

[He sorted out a few notes carefully, glancing over his shoulder to David.]

What exactly was that you just used?

[megazero_to_superhero]

[The dramatic comment gets a half smile from David. Normally he'd say something like, "That's part of the fun of being a hero," but he hasn't been feeling very heroic lately.]

[Waver's inquiry, however, does elicit a response from David. He glances down at his power armor as he replies.]

What, dis?

[Then he looks back up.]

Oh, dat's my flight system for my armor here. 'S'all plasma stuff, just uses electricity.

[fionnuisce]

Is that right? [Actually intrigued, he turned fully to look over David's armor.] Hm--that's something I've never seen before. Interesting.

[megazero_to_superhero]

I've been tinkerin' with dis suit for years. 'Specially after I got sponsorships an' Federal backin'.

[He gives Waver a crooked grin.]

Back when I got in "da business" it was all jus' Army surplus an' salvaged stuff from Crey.

[fionnuisce]

You lost me at just about everything you said.

[He might've commented on his companion's method of speaking, but on the other hand Waver had long since given up and accepted no one else spoke the Queen's goddamned English.]

But I take it you're some manner of soldier, then?

[dorm room 03-10; 12/27]

[sarcasmancer]

[During their conversation and research discussion on Jade's first day at the Tower, Waver had mentioned his room assignment. Now that matters in the Tower seem to have settled somewhat, this seemed as good a time as any to pay the researcher a visit to further discuss these affairs; they'd only gone over the basics previously.

Of course, the basics included news on the potential to re-acquire one's true powers. A tempting offer, but given the price it carried, Jade had thought it more prudent to wait and see how the first test subjects managed. That's the other reason he's here today, knocking on Waver's door--to see what the results thus far are.

When an immediate response is (likely) not forthcoming, Jade frowns in thought.]

Hm. I wonder if he's out.

[Just in case, should Waver have not responded by then, he knocks one more time.]

[fionnuisce]

It's bloody open.

[Waver removed the pillow from his head (suffocation, while vaguely appealing, was not going to accomplish much) and sat up enough to straighten out disheveled and untied hair.]

[Results: one (1) very, very miserable magus.]

[sarcasmancer]

[Oh, so there he is. And sounding in rather poor spirits, at that. Jade lets himself in and shuts the door behind him, then regards Waver, unpeeled from his bed.

Then he smiles.]

My, my. I see the experiments have had smashing results. Or perhaps did you simply manage to acquire too much of a liquid kind of proof?

[fionnuisce]

If I was drunk, I'd be in a far better mood, I assure you. And for the record, the experiment's results are fine.

[then what, pray tell, is the issue]

[sarcasmancer]

Really? You look to be something of a wreck for someone who received 'fine' results.

[That is the question, isn't it.]

[fionnuisce]

It's not my fault my world's magic system is absurd bullshit, thank you very much. This isn't any sort of side effect.

[sarcasmancer]

Really.

[During their conversation, they hadn't discussed each other's local magic system; the focus had been on matters of the Tower. This news gets Waver a pair of politely raised eyebrows.]

It seems a rather inconvenient system if this is functioning as intended. May I ask how it works? I do recall what you said about how a full week would have to pass before any of your powers start to return, and that even then they would return slowly. If even a small amount of your true powers returning puts you in this state...

[fionnuisce]

You may as well sit down, because this is complicated as hell. [Waver sat up properly, reaching over to his left shoulder as though it had been injured.]

I assume you're familiar with the basic structure of a human nervous system, at least?