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

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?

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.]

...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?

[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.

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

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.

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?

[That's Rhode Islander accents for you! Though, David parses Waver's confusion as a sign that they're not from even remotely similar worlds. He makes a note of that—though granted, in the Tower experiences like this are turning out to be the rule, not the exception.]

—Soldier? Oh—heh! Naw, naw, I never enlisted. I'm a superhero. Licensed an' everything—

[And to prove the point, he's reaching for the wallet on his belt. With a bit of fumbling—he really should have invested in a wallet that's easier to use with thick armored gloves before the universe-eating virus-thing destroyed Primal Earth—he flips it open and holds it out to Waver.]

"The Darin' Little David," at your service.

[In one of the sleeves there's a Paragon City Hero Registration ID card that looks sort of like this, identifying him as "Little David," real name "David Puskás," a "Technology origin" "Blaster." It also lists a variety of known powers and more typical metrics expected of an ID card.]

...Well, fuck me, that's a new one.

[There was surprise in Waver's voice, dull though it might have been. He looked over the ID card with a raised eyebrow, registering a small number of unfamiliar terms.]

[A superhero, really? Out of all the worlds that sounded like creations of literary fantasy, that was pretty far out there.]

Waver Velvet, Lord El-Melloi the second. Pleasure to meet you.

[On the other hand, with a name like that and a position as a teacher of goddamned magic, he wasn't one to throw stones.]

[David's expression returns to that crooked grin.]

Yeah, I figured my type's a rarity in da Tower. I've only met like one guy who I think was one, but boy was he a real grouch.

[Once Waver's finished looking over the card, David puts the wallet back on his belt.]

Saved my bacon da first day here, so I can't fault 'em for dat. Never saw 'em again, though.

This place doesn't exactly inspire cheerful moods and sunny dispositions.

[That stunning observation was made with a dismissive shrug.]

So dare I ask just what kind of superhero? Are you actually human with advanced technology, or am I about to hear something else beyond all logical reasoning?

Jus' a guy with not-so-average tech, yup. Some heroes, dey got amazin' origin stories. Me, I was jus' yer average blue-collar worker.

[And he still thinks of himself as "blue-collar." Nevertheless, his crooked grin becomes more honest as he repositions the unlit cigar in his mouth.]

But hey, you wanna hear stories dat'll raise da bar for crazy? I'm your man.

And I'm a professor. We've all got a not-so-average quirk or two that crosses the border from 'mundane' to 'what the hell are you on about'.

[He was really just a professor, and considered himself as such. It was the curriculum itself that was a bit out of the ordinary. Waver himself was pretty normal by his own world's standards. The response came with a lightly amused smirk:]

But go on, try me. I'm honestly intrigued.

Arright, let's see here ...

[David takes a moment to think through his superhero career. Hm—no, that one was pretty mundane ... no, he can save stories about the Rikti for later ... a-ha! This story will do.]

'Kay, first, fact check—you got a United States where you come from, yeah? An' a Britain? Ireland? All dat? S'related.

[Though he could make assumptions, David figures it's better to be safe than sorry. After all, he mistook that troll girl as hailing from Jamaica ...]

That sounds more or less right to me. I'm from London, myself.

[Obvious though it sounded, that was a reasonable starting point. Who could even say how many different planets and realities were represented here? The idea of taking inventory was somewhat appealing to Waver's researcher side (which was every side) but time constraints being what they were put that on the metaphorical backburner.]

So it seems like we're from roughly similar versions of Earth, I'd call that a good baseline.

Yeah—even dat seems to be kinda rare around here. With what I heard 'bout dat universe-eating ting, I guess dat's to be expected.

[Which sucks. David's expression falls for a moment when he recalls the discussion he had with Enoch.]

Anyway! So I'm doin' my thing, on patrol lookin' for trouble a few days after Christmas, right? I hear dey call it Boxin' Day or somethin' up in Canada, I dunno. Didn't think Canadians were into boxin' dat much. An' I get dis call to meet with a contact at Pocket D.

[He looks over at Waver, more directly, as if realizing he should give some context.]

Dat's a nightclub. Run by dis mutant guy, DJ Zero. Set da place up as like a neutral meetin' ground between villains an' heroes, usin' his own powers. Place is literally a pocket dimension, see.

[David's posture changes—even though he's floating in mid-air, he leans back and slouches a little as if he were propping himself up against a wall. It gives Waver a chance to respond while David's getting comfortable.]

We have the same holiday in England--I don't think it's anything to do with boxing. [The deadpan look suggested he was actually very certain of that. Folding his arms and leaning back against an actual wall, the ponytailed magus listened with slight interest.]

A nightclub in a pocket dimension? [Sounded like a Reality Marble or some similar concept. Unlikely by his world's standards, but certainly not unheard of. David would have to try a lot harder for a reaction, apparently.] Hell of a place for it. But I suppose if one wanted a neutral ground, that might just be a good idea.

Edited (i accidentally a word) 2013-12-29 06:02 (UTC)

[Oh, he's just getting started, Waver, just you wait.]

Yeah, no kidding, right? Plus DJ Zero's got some mean security dere. An' both da Freedom Phalanx an' Arachnos help out, which is da crazy thing. Even Longbow, dey're usually gung-ho about arrestin' criminals, dey just party an' chat it up when dey're dere.

[And since he'd mentioned Christmas, it can't help but make David think of the story of that soccer game German and British soldiers played during WWI.]

So, my contact is in da ski chalet DJ Zero sets up every winter. No joke—I dunno where he puts it in da off season, but every winter he 'ports in dis crazy ski mountain with all dese windin' half-pipes made of rock everywhere. Don't even need skis, you can jus' slide your way down on da ice. Just wish he didn't pipe in yodelin' music everywhere, yeesh.

[David realizes he's getting a bit off topic.]

Uh—Anyway, where was I—oh yeah, da chalet. 'Kay, so, I get dere an' it turns out my contact is—get dis—Father Time. Like, da real deal. White toga an' beard an' everything!

[He'd narrowed his eyes in confusion at the terms being thrown about, but Waver said nothing to interrupt just yet. Differing factions, he'd guessed from the sounds of it. Since clarifying didn't seem entirely relevant just yet, there wasn't any need to nitpick at details. Basically it sounded like the guy who ran the pocket dimension nightclub (not a phrase Waver ever expected he'd need to use) might've had some screws loose.]

Hope you weren't late. [Still deadpan with a side order of snark.] I'd imagine him as the type to be particular about that kind of thing. So what was it that a concept of progression could possibly have wanted?

[The responses were short, largely because Waver was trying to keep up. Concepts like that weren't too farfetched--even Dead Apostles weren't that far off from what some worlds might term as physical gods.]

[However, finding someone from a world that damn near kept up with Waver's own on the weird-shit-o-meter was fascinating.]

[David snickers at Waver's snark. Easy to laugh about it now, but given the crisis at the time ...]

You'd think so, but dat's actually why he was callin' for me. An', well, just about anyone else he could get to help. Heroes an' villains. Somebody had dis plot to freeze da flow of time by kidnappin' Baby New Year. 'Cause if Father Time couldn't "pass his mantle" onto him, dat woulda ground everything to a stop pretty darn soon.

[David takes the cigar out of his mouth for the moment, holding it between his fingers as if it were actually lit. Though, not only does it look unlit, it looks like it hasn't ever been lit at all ...]

An' dis is where da whole askin'-about-Ireland thing comes in ...

That's certainly an unconventional way of stopping time, I'll give them that one. Can't wait to hear what I'm sure is completely fucking mental reasoning for it.

[...That sounded vaguely familiar. Like an absolutely terrible Christmas special Waver watched one year while thoroughly inebriated. After concluding that really wasn't at all important, the lecturer ground that train of thought to a halt and quickly abandoned it. His attention turned back to the story itself, thought process registering as no more than a flicker of confusion on his face.]

I spent a couple years there some time ago. What's Ireland have to do with some surreal concept-napping plot?

Well, dere's dis tourist town north of Paragon City—Salamanca. Beautiful place, managed to escape all da carnage of da Rikti War—but den weird stuff started happenin', people got out quick. Now da whole countryside is a battleground for dese two monster groups, da Fill Bollocks an' da uh ... Too-wa ... Twa de dan—aw, heck, I'ma just call 'em da Dannon.

[Weep, sons of Eire, for David has just reduced an ancient Irish race to yogurt.]

Okay, so da Dannon an' da Bulge guys're usin' a town as a battleground. I have no idea how dey wound up over here on "our side of da pond," but dey sure make a mess. 'Specially since dey get lots of help from other magic groups, like dese evil garden gnome types called da Red Caps.

[He glances back over to Waver.]

Dey're da ones who kidnapped 'em. Dannon an' da Red Caps. All part of deir feud with da Bulge, an' da plan was masterminded by dis big mean Red Cap called Snaptooth. We had to go an' travel to "da Fey lands" to kick his butt an' rescue Baby New Year.

Tuatha Dé Danann, I think you're trying to say. [He ain't gonna stand for this butchering of mythology, how dare you good sir. Momentarily setting aside the implications of unfamiliar geography and a war Waver had never even heard of, he made a point to pronounce it correctly before moving on.]

I might have to ask you to slow down a bit here: The fuck are you on about. [It wasn't even a question at this point. Congratulations, David, you're getting the start of a reaction] I'm gathering there's some untold numbers of factions at work here--that, I think I can follow. But are you trying to imply that alongside all this- [he gestured vaguely to David's armor] technology, you still have faeries and the like running about in that sort of era?

[Again, coming from the early 2000s in a world where vampires were a matter of scientific fact, Waver wasn't one to judge.]

You're sure you're not just having a laugh here?

Edited 2013-12-29 06:56 (UTC)

[Oh, that's how you pronounce it? David can never get that one right ... but Waver's reaction to talk of the presence of magic gets a look that, if David had not been wearing his visored helmet, would have been accompanied with a raised eyebrow.]

Yeah, we do. Magic's everywhere. One of da major origins of superpowers, even, right alongside mutations, science, an' technology. Oh, an' natural talent, but dat's kinda vague.

[If David's pulling Waver's leg, he's damned good at keeping a straight face, because he's acting as if this is common knowledge.]

Heck, magic's da only reason we won da Rikti War. What, you guys don't got magic in your world? What's technology gotta do with it?

I assure you, we have plenty of magic. [That earned a roll of his eyes, like Waver almost thought they could do with a bit less.] But where I come from things like that are uncommon at best. With a progression to a more modern era, existences like gods and faeries faded into legend somewhere along the line.

[What followed was a short pause, like a thought suddenly occurred to him.]

That isn't to say they're fictional; without a doubt, they existed at one point or another. But in my particular time period, ordinary humans are vastly more common. And to ordinary humans, things such as the Tuatha Dé Danann and Redcaps are commonly considered to be just fairytales.

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