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)
towerofanimus2013-12-26 08:46 pm
fionnuisce) wrote in towerofanimus2013-12-26 08:46 pm
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.]
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.]
no subject
Well, in dat case—I got a question for ya. An' possibly a favor to ask—
[David unholsters the big gold-and-green Vanguard Redding rifle that was attached to one of his thighs. It's almost as tall as he is—which, given his short stature, isn't too impressive, but it's still bigger than any 20th/21st century rifle has any business being.]
[He's holding it in both hands, the way someone might if offering a sword to someone else. Mainly to show Waver that the weapon is devoid of any ammunition.]
When da admins took me, dey left all my ammo for dis behind. An' da gadget I had on hand for makin' more ammo on da fly. You capable of makin' some?
no subject
I'm not sure. [It certainly wasn't something Waver had ever attempted before. And he knew about as much regarding guns as he did any other mechanical devices--which wasn't a lot.] Does it take ordinary ammunition? Gunpowder, bullets, that sort of thing?
no subject
[He taps the larger of the two barrels.]
Dat one fires shotgun shells. Same deal, though.
no subject
[Worth a shot, to pardon the obvious pun.]
no subject
Hey, I'd be thankful just for da attempt. I'd been lookin' dis tower up an' down for a way to do it on my own. Came up with jack squat.
[He glances off to the side—a meaningful look at the doorway.]
An' with da way things've been goin', I can't just sit around on my butt doin' nothin'. Yanno?
no subject
no subject
[David grins again.]
Arright, so—I can try checkin' dat library to see if dere's anything on firearms. Even an encyclopedia's gotta have some kinda diagram, yeah?
Oh—an' uh—where do you live? If I find somethin' I can drop da books off dere.
[But he hesitates for a beat, a brief one. With a bit of a worried look accompanying his following question.]
Dey do allow us to check out books, right?
no subject
My room number is 3-10, and as for the library...frankly I usually just do the necessary research there. I'm not sure I'd risk what could theoretically happen if one failed to return something.
Okay, now that I have a reprieve ... sorry for the delay!
Arrighty. Well, if I run into you dere I'll point out anything I've found. If not, I'll drop by your place an' let you know where to find 'em. Oh—an' my room's 5-08 if you ever wanna talk.
[Now he offers Waver his hand to shake.]
An' hey, thanks again for lookin' into dis.