towerofanimus | [open] // watch me stumble over and over

Entry tags:

[open] // watch me stumble over and over

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Why wouldn't I want to give it to you?

[Diarmuid gives him a confused and suddenly, slightly scared, look.]

Do...you think I'm upset because I backed off? I...just don't ever want to push you into something you don't want. That is all.

It's f-fine, Diarmuid. [He pulled back enough to close his hands around Diarmuid's own, smile turning a little shaky.]

Please...don't worry and just do what you want to.

What I want to do is terribly sappy and probably unnecessary because I am sure you already know, but I am going to do it anyway.

[Gently, Diarmuid pulls his hand from Waver's grasp so that he can open it to reveal what is inside. What lays in his palm is a hair clasp. It is a cylinder, hinged on one side and appears to be made out of brass though the base for the clasp was taken from a monster and so who knows if it is actually what it appears. Originally, it was just that...a cylindrical metal clasp, but it is obvious that Diarmuid has been working on it for some time because what was once blank metal is now covered with detailed carvings. The carvings are mostly knots formed by two different styles of lines coming together, though, no matter how hard Waver looks, it is impossible to find any beginnings or endings for the lines. It's almost as if the two lines meet to form a knotted circle and never part again.

Which is pretty much what Diarmuid was going for.]

I've been working on this for a long time--ever since I noticed the base on a monster I defeated. I was going to gift it to you at some point once I finished working on it, but after we talked in the Infirmary, I got to thinking it might be better used like this. When people wed in modern times, they exchange rings, correct? Here that would be too obvious, but you already wear your hair up and it has to be held with something. This...this would not be so obvious.

[He motions with his hand, indicating he wants Waver to take the gift.]

It might not be a ring, but it holds all of my feeling for you. All of my love and my loyalty. All of my everything else too. To be honest, I think I have felt that we are wed in my heart for sometime already. I am sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I just don't know how to else to describe it. You mean that much to me. I always want you to be there and I always want to be with you. I cannot imagine living without you.

...It's...a little strange. [Waver took it with a slightly shaking hand, drawing the small metallic object close to his chest with a distant look on his face. Past the overheated haze of pain, he kept hold on conscious thought to try and speak properly.]

I wasn't the same without him, you know? S...sure, I got on well enough. But on my own--without him or without you, there's just no way I can be as strong as I could be. Even right now--if I had to withstand this blasted crest alone, I'd probably have killed myself to stop it. [Waver barely managed to keep an agonized expression off his face, though his discomfort was at least clear.]

Even though I kn-know I could stand on my own if I had to--but I wouldn't feel right. I wouldn't...I'm not really a complete person without you anymore. Look, I don't--marriage is kind of a complex thing for me that I don't want any part of, but in our case I hardly think it necessary. We've already sworn up and down we won't abandon each other--do we really need to do more than that?

[Giving a short sigh of tired exasperation, Waver reached up to replace the elastic in his hair with the metallic clasp.]

I do have something for you--it's just in my trunk over there, if you want to get it. They aren't much more than glamour, but...better than nothing, for now.

[Sure enough, next to a small kit of vials and all manner of essential alchemy equipment was a pair of replacement swords and a copy of the note he'd written in response to Romeo.]

I don't know about that. I think you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. You would not have come so far just to kill yourself that close to the end. However, I won't argue with your other point.

[A sheepish look crosses his face.]

I think the traditional, romantic, emotional side of me just wants everything to be like so. To name things as they should be when really they can't be that way or shouldn't be that way anymore. The world has changed and yet I still try to label things like thousands of years haven't passed. You are right. If our promises to each other aren't enough, what will be?

[Diarmuid slides off the bed to go to the trunk as directed. When he sees the swords, his eyes light up. It doesn't matter to him that they are only film. They are something Waver put a lot of time into for him and even more they are replacements for the ones he lost. He is about to turn to Waver to thank him when he sees the note and pulls it out to read...

...

The words on it flood him with so many emotions that he cannot speak or even think for a good amount of time. When he finally gets his brain working again, he looks toward Waver...and it's like ice water has been dumped on him. Now that he is looking at his partner after not doing so for a few minutes, Diarmuid can clearly see how feverish and pained the magus has become despite his distraction.

Quick steps bring him back to the bed, swords and note set nearby on the bed stand. After sitting down, Diarmuid reaches out and very lightly brushes his fingers across Waver's too warm face.]

I would give anything to be able to bear even a little of this pain for you. Do you need to lay down?

I think I'll be alright. [His voice was shaky, but at the absolute least Waver had stopped visibly wincing and shaking for the moment.]

Don't look at me like that, okay? Being a magus comes with some level of pain. It's not going to kill me--a Magic Crest's designed for quite the opposite.

Do not get me wrong, Mo Stór. I don't look at you like this because I think you aren't strong enough to bear the pain. It is just because I care so much about you. I don't want to see you in pain for any reason. Put yourself in my shoes. Would you want to see me in pain even though you know I am strong enough to take it?

[He turns to the nightstand, picking back up the note that he set there before.]

Do...you really think all of that about me?

No, I would probably be just as upset about it. But regardless, have I ever lied before? [Waver's answer came with a tired and pained but very genuine smile.]

After I wrote that, I...kind of figured you might need to hear it yourself.

No, you haven't ever lied to me. I just...

[Diarmuid looks down at the note, worrying it slightly between his hands before forcing himself to set it down so he doesn't accidentally tear it.]

I never thought about it like that before. My flaws and mistakes have always been that. Something negative to be erased, not something positive to be embraced...

Humans are screwed up things, Diarmuid. I should think being flawed in itself would be proof enough of one's humanity, whether one likes it or not.

I know...

[Diarmuid sighs.]

There is just part of me that keeps saying I shouldn't allow myself to accept being that way. Each mistake and each flaw means someone is hurt and isn't protected. But...if I can just become perfect like so many say I am...

[He shakes his head.]

I know it's never going to happen. It's just getting myself to let that go. For once, my inability to give up trying isn't helping me out any.

There's nothing wrong with it. Just d...don't let your flaws control you. Carry them, understand them, and...and try to compensate the best that you can to find some sort of balance.

Find a balance, yes...

[Diarmuid smiles shyly.]

You aren't the only one who has told me I need to do that. You and Reno... I suppose if it is coming from both of you I really need to listen, don't I?

I should hope you'd know sense when you heard it, at least.

I do...it's just getting me to accept it on a deeper level. That has always been my problem. At least, I am more aware of it now. I haven't always been so.

I can accept progress, certainly.

[Waver leaned against Diarmuid, hand going back to his own shoulder. Tired, in pain, and still seemingly feverish, the magus' words were a bit downcast.] Sorry those swords are just glamour--when all this settles down I'll try and see if I can modify something real without fucking it up.

[Diarmuid wraps an arm around Waver, pulling him closer.]

Don't worry about it so much. Work on something when you can. They still mean everything to me. After all, how long have I been collecting real weapons for? I could have replaced that first pair a while ago and I didn't because I wanted those swords. You made them for me. That is all that mattered then and that is all that matters with these.

Now you're just flattering me. I know damn well they're not exactly examples of expert craftsmanship, so try not to rely on them too heavily.

It's not flattery. You know I don't flatter and I'm not going to put myself in danger, especially not now that we are getting our true abilities back. There is too much at risk.

[Diarmuid leans his head against Waver's.]

Just...let me compliment you for once, okay?

Just this once. Mostly because I haven't the energy to argue.

[Diarmuid frowns, rubbing Waver's arm absentmindedly.]

You are probably in too much pain to sleep, aren't you?

That does seem to be the case. Don't suppose I can talk you into knocking me unconscious, can I?

You know better than to ask that. I swore I wouldn't let you talk me into hurting or killing you and I'm not going to change my mind on that.

[An odd, slightly goofy smile crosses his face.]

I could sing and try to distract you. Perhaps the pain in your ears will block out the rest of the pain you're feeling...

Oh, well. It was worth a try, I think. [Waver certainly didn't believe he'd be able to sleep in this condition otherwise.]

But do whatever you like. I'll make an attempt not to have my ears start bleeding if you do.

Do you have a better idea? Because, you know, my last idea for distracting you didn't work out quite the way I thought it would...

[Or maybe it had worked a little too well. That could be too.]

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