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.]
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[Diarmuid gently rubs Waver's arm with the hand that isn't stroking his hair.]
So, any ideas on what our next step will be now that we have our powers back?
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I'm not asking for strategy, just a few ideas. What about those who don't wish to take the new fluid? Do we just let them stay with the old even though that means the Administrators can still control them?
[After all, considering the range of powers people here have, it only makes sense that there are some people who are better off with their abilities limited as they are. Diarmuid himself is better off with his curse's...
He swears softly under his breath.]
I really hope this doesn't mean my curse will go back to being active all the time. I don't want a repeat of before...
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[Waver hesitated at Diarmuid's next remark, thinking carefully. If that did happen, they'd have one more problem to deal with on top of all the others. With barely a word the magus took his sunglasses and placed them on Diarmuid's face as though that was the obvious solution. (Never mind that it wasn't a pressing issue just yet.)]
There.
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If you don't mind, I may actually take them this time. Maybe if I had taken them before things wouldn't have been so bad. When did you get them fixed? I've been meaning to ask, but so much has been going on...
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[Diarmuid takes the sunglasses off to offer them to Waver.]
Do you want to keep a hold of them until I actually switch my fluid out? I know how much they mean to you.
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Just let me know when you go through with it. I don't mind, if you need them more than I do.
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Do you want me to keep them now?
[His voice is soft.]
I will if that is what you want.
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Gently, he pulls the sunglasses from Waver's hand, but instead of putting them back over his eyes, he perches them on top of his head in a way very similar to how Waver wears them.]
What do you think? How foolish do I look?
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No more than I usually do.
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But I don't think you look foolish with them on...
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Since when does logic play into all of this?
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[Diarmuid laughs softly.]
You would have to be something else unless you want to copy me.
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Mo Stór, you are making it very difficult for me to distract you when you keep brushing everything off as not important or not mattering...
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Don't be. It just means I have to get more and more creative in my ways to distract you.
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