towerofanimus | [open] // a single thrown grenade

Entry tags:

[open] // a single thrown grenade

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.]

Threaded | Flat

[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.]

[... 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.

[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.

[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.]

[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.

[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.~~]

[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.]

[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.]

Threaded | Flat

[Dorm Floors: Not far from 4-16]

Floor four!

infirmary!

[GRUUUUMPLOG labsplz]

Floor 4; Lounge

27

late as ever, labarotory

lounge. I am so sorry in advance