[open] // a single thrown grenade

[fionnuisce]

Characters: Waver and open
Date: Backdated to January 16th
Location: dorm floors, laboratory, infirmary, lounge
Format: starting in brackets
Summary: Nyx Avatar aftermath.
Warnings: Just Waver's terrible language, scarring, and mentions of death.

[dorm floors]

[Fuck this. Fuck all of it. That was the bottom line of Waver's current thoughts. He hadn't slept so much as a second the previous night; instead it had been spent taking care of his injuries and cleaning the blood off the golden spear he held even now, as he walked through the dormitory floors. Just over four and a half feet long, Waver carried the weapon at his side, parallel with his arm and blade pointed downwards to avoid hitting anything with it.]

[It could have been the lack of sleep that caused the unusual look on his face--but that was unlikely. Exhaustion alone wouldn't cause the utterly indifferent expression, and it wasn't known to cause the completely dead and blank look in his eyes. He'd gone beyond even dismissal and sarcasm now, skating headlong into halting and suppressing all emotional processes. They just weren't worth it, and he didn't need them. There was no time or energy to waste on such things, not when there still remained so much work to do in order to stand a chance of getting out of here. As soon as he'd returned that weapon to its owner, Waver intended to head straight for the laboratory.]

[This place and the work that needed to be done didn't require Waver Velvet--it required a proper magus, cold and analytical. Devoted to work and nothing more. If he was so wrapped up in his own pathetic problems, no one would survive or escape this place. Simple.]

[floor twenty-seven; laboratory]

[As focused as Waver usually was on whatever he was doing, today he was several times more so. Every hour or so he switched between studying his own research on the collar fluid to the regained notes written by Kayneth regarding Volumen Hydragyrum. Working as much as physically possible seemed a viable option, especially when placed next to the choice of doing nothing. Though the pace at which he seemed to be working suggested something about him was not entirely well, the same impassive stare remained on his face throughout.]

[Working, it seemed, was his main coping mechanism and reassurance. If not his only ones.]

[floor two; infirmary]

[By late afternoon, it occurred to Waver that he'd recieved his share of injuries in the previous day's fight. Self-preservation dictated he tear himself away from his work at that point and make his way to the infirmary. Most of what he'd suffered amounted to bruises and scratches, but even that could be problematic without being properly checked up on and cared for.]

[He discarded his dark green suit jacket and black shirt, tossing both to the silver maid that stood behind him--scars from jagged stab wounds were visible on his shoulder, while a slightly more recent and neater one was clear on his right forearm. Regarding the utter mess he was with blank indifference, Waver glanced over the bruises and scratches from yesterday before starting to bandage up the latter. If he ended up getting some kind of infection, he might have ended up more annoyed than he already was.]

[floor four; lounge]

[Deciding to wander aimlessly and stretch his legs for a bit before returning to the lab, Waver found himself standing in the lounge staring out the window. By now the lecturer looked distracted more than he did blank and cold--it could have been that something outside caught his interest, but more likely was that he was utterly lost in thought as to what to do or where to go with his research from there.]

[Nothing else mattered anymore, did it? As long as Waver could work out a way for everyone to live through this place, his own loosening grip on sanity would be a small price to pay. So screw it all--he'd ignore everyone and everything, and devote himself only to research and working to escape. Everything else could take second priority.]

Comments

[Dorm Floors: Not far from 4-16]

[oathshackledbird]

[Diarmuid's purpose in leaving his room so quickly after reviving from his latest death is to avoid those he cares about--especially those who had been involved in the whole mess with Nyx and who had fought him like...that. He needs time alone to sort out how exactly he is suppose to feel and how he is to control that darkness in him so that something like this never happens again.

That is why Mac an Chuill's happy 'look it's a friend' bark makes Diarmuid actually cringe when he hears it. When he turns back to see who the dog has run off to meet, his heart stops in his chest.

Waver...and he doesn't look very good. Not that Diarmuid can blame him after...

He shuts his eyes for a moment, pushing down all the pain and regret, and the near overwhelming urge to rush forward to pull the magus into his arms. Waver didn't need him emotional now. He needed him in control. They all did. Emotional had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

Diarmuid opens his mouth to apologize, but no words come out. He tries again and again he fails. In the end, he just shuts his mouth and waits for his partner to speak first.]

[fionnuisce]

Good morning.

[Waver's voice was completely flat, and not the usual sarcastic deadpan. From the look and sound of him, Waver was less 'in control' and more 'completely dead inside'.]

[He calmly held out Gae Buidhe, careful to make sure he didn't mistakenly nick himself with the blade.]

This would be yours.

[oathshackledbird]

It's...sealed now.

[Diarmuid struggles to even get those few words out, shocked by the tone of Waver's voice. Though, in the end, the words sound foolish and the effort wasted even once he gets them out. Despite the fact that its ability to create wounds that can't be healed is inactive, Gae Buidhe is still a weapon and they all need to be treated with care.

Still, that is less important to him than the dead feeling around Waver right now which is why he takes the weapon without another word and settles it onto his back. Besides him, Mac an Chuill whines softly, not sure why there is so much unease in the air between them. Diarmuid can at least understand it...somewhat. He knew talking to Waver again would be hard. It had been hard enough just talking to him again after he had died protecting him, but to die at his hand in a way so similar to the war...

He draws a long breath in through his teeth and the sound is loud in the silent hallway. What does he say?]

I'm so--

[But the words cut themselves off and he falls into silence once more.]

[fionnuisce]

Forget it, and don't sit around kicking yourself.

[Hands moving to his pockets, Waver walked past Diarmuid like he wasn't even standing there. From his perspective, he'd done what he had set out to do--now he had actual work to accomplish. That was more important than standing around talking and exchanging sentimental apologies.]

[Even if they did do that, Waver wasn't sorry. He'd accomplished what had to be done. There was no need to apologize for that.]

Floor four!

[gradosfinest]

[... that had not been pleasant. The battle was still fresh in her memory, Diarmuid had been an opponent unlike any other she'd crossed weapons with and numerous questions burned at her mind. She held no ill-will towards the man, but whatever he was? He was most certainly not human. Nobody could move the way they did, not without being something... more

Maybe it was this need to sort her thoughts out that brought the heavily armored knight to the Floor 4 Lounge, and it didn't take her long to recognize Waver. Though for a moment she was unsure if she should approach she decided to go for it, walking up behind him somewhat less than quietly before clearing her throat. (You try being quiet in armor like that)]

... hello again, sir.

[fionnuisce]

[Glancing up upon hearing the suit of armor approach, Waver's expression briefly shifted to mild curiosity. Come to think of it, he had no idea who exactly this was. There wasn't even a name to match the imposing appearance just yet.]

...Waver. [So the lecturer gave his own first, flat and impassive.]

[gradosfinest]

Amelia. Knight of the Grado Empire.

[They'd fought together by now, it was only proper to give her title as well even if there were times she doubted if she were still worthy to carry it.]

How are you holding up?

infirmary!

[slightlyoblivious]

[Waver happens to walk in just as Yukiko's finishing up a work shift in the back. She doesn't say anything for a few minutes, when she notices him. What is there to say?

'Sorry I got thrown into a crystal, woke up the monster that's sleeping somewhere inside my boyfriend, and proceeded to flip out and hurt a lot of people, myself included' is certainly the truth, but blurting that out doesn't seem like it's enough.

In the end, she walks forward and clears her throat, awkwardly fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater.]

...I can take care of that with a healing spell. It's the least I can do, after what happened.

[fionnuisce]

It's not that bad.

[Tone impassive, Waver finished bandaging the few scratches he had; the maid held out his shirt a moment later and the lecturer pulled it on without looking directly at Yukiko.]

[Right, she had been the one throwing out fire in every direction. It was impressive, really.]

...Are you alright? [He felt he might as well have asked.]

[slightlyoblivious]

Are you sure? It wouldn't be a problem.

[That had been her, all right.]

For values of it that include 'not really, but I'm trying'? I'm not under that - it wasn't exactly mind control, but I can't think of a better way to put it. I'm back in control of myself.

[GRUUUUMPLOG labsplz]

[bloodyashes]

[The labs, obviously, are the place to report his incident to any scientist who is still around to listen. Asch stomps in with a practiced display of tantrum-below-the-surface - and oh, good, it's Waver. Someone he can vent his frustrations on, definitely.

March march stomp stomp his way over.]

Some data for you. Apparently, even though they aren't glamour, our powers still don't work against the animals in the lower forest.

[If Waver looks close, he can probably see the remains of mostly-healed cuts on Asch's face and neck, like something with small claws tried to go for his left eye.]

[aww yeeee]

[fionnuisce]

[Waver paused and set his pen down, turning to regard Asch with a completely emotionless stare. For a moment he wanted to ask if Asch ran into the chicken, but that sounded unlikely. Glancing to the reports before looking back, his own response came in a flat tone.]

Had some sort of run-in with something, did you?

[bloodyashes]

Pheasants.

[He sounds completely aggravated that this is even a thing that happens, much less that it happens to him.]

They don't work on the power nullifying floors, either.

Floor 4; Lounge

[midgarhorizon]

[Footsteps are all the warning Waver gets before Reno's standing next to him, trying to see what he saw.

It'd been about time Reno pulled himself out of the mess of Misery he'd embroiled himself in after that day, his fight with Elena, the talk with Diarmuid and the kids. He looks much more put together today, even coherent. Wearing his Raven uniform minus headgear, of course, considering all his other clothes were about ready to turn into rags or shared with Shion.

A hand lightly touches Waver's shoulder.]

Those look like some deep thoughts, there.

[fionnuisce]

[The lecturer went rigid under Reno's hand, sharply pulled out of whatever thoughts he'd been having. Glancing over his shoulder, Reno was met with a cold and distant stare--while he might have improved, Waver himself was in no fit shape to be all that friendly.]

It's nothing.

[midgarhorizon]

[Initially shocked, Reno bears the look, slowly pressing his lips into a thin line. He isn't going to back down to this strange behavior, and he could be about as stubborn.]

What happened.

[It's flat, and not a request. He doesn't know Waver as well as he does Diarmuid, but he wasn't a fool. There is the family to consider, and after all their yelling, pleading, screaming, and talking at him, he isn't going to let any of them off the hook. Especially Waver.]

27

[crouching_sin]

[Naoya didn't miss that there was some kind of incident going on, but the exact details were something that he hadn't gotten yet. A glance at Waver from across the lab indicates to him that even if the magus wasn't involved personally in whatever it was, he was affected.]

[... And really, he'd been looking for an excuse to talk to him, anyway. He got up and pulled his jacket off, dropping it on Waver's desk.]

You look sick.

[Just take the damn jacket, you're too skinny. Forever a hypocrite.]

[fionnuisce]

[Pausing in his work, Waver looked from the jacket to Naoya in the mildest of confusion.]

I'm not. Why would you think I was?

[crouching_sin]

You're pretty clearly overworking yourself to push past something. You don't look like you've eaten or slept well.

... Besides. I know that look.

[It's the look he's seen on himself and others hundreds of times.]

late as ever, labarotory

[swordofzero]

[Suzaku hadn't slept since the fight, hadn't been back to his room, his clothes were still splattered with blood. His eyes wild with tiredness.

He hadn't meant to seek out Waver, because he had nothing to say. Nothing he could say. What had happened had happened and it had been awful. But there was nothing they could do, nothing Suzaku could say to make it better.

Things like that didn't get better. They just ate at you until they destroyed you.

But without his permission his legs led him to the laboratory, where he knew he would find Waver.

He still had nothing to say though, so just sat next to him in silence.]

shhhhhh it's fine

[fionnuisce]

Good afternoon.

[Waver didn't so much as glance up when he heard Suzaku approach and sit down, focused on his work as though it was the only thing in the entire Tower. The greeting he offered was short and carried nothing more than cold formality to it.]

[swordofzero]

Good evening. [He stared at the table and then at the work that Waver was doing.] Do you need any help?

lounge. I am so sorry in advance

[culbutiri]

[Nesir had laid low for a few hours, but then just got on with things. What had happened had happened, she hoped the so called heroes had learned their lesson and headed the warning.

She didn't really have much to fear here, death only lasted a little while, there was no way they were going to restore the worlds, or save their souls. If they were doomed, there was no point in being careful.

Let chaos rule had been the mantra she had grown up with and one she planned to fulfill to her best ability in these final months.] Greetings Waver. [Perfectly polite, just passing through.]

ffft never be sorry

[fionnuisce]

Hello. [Deadpan and not giving a fraction of a damn about the matter, the lecturer didn't even bother to look over his shoulder.]

Did you want something?

[culbutiri]

No I did no be wanting anything. [She paused] So this do be being it do it be being? You will be sulking forever.