animus_network | ☿ // 002; [text]

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☿ // 002; [text]

[Standing in front of the terminal, Waver looked like hell. More accurately, like he got the hell to a terminal within two minutes of sleep paralysis wearing off. His suit jacket forgotten, the usual sunglasses were hanging off a collared shirt as black as his disheveled, untied hair.]

[Let it never be said Waver Velvet was an unkempt mess; there were just much more important things to consider right now than his personal appearance.]

I have a question. Technically several, though all geared toward the same subject.

Has there yet been any evidence of limits to this place's resurrection capabilities? An upper limit on times one can return, for example?

And what of side effects: has there ever been any indication of lingering illness or other such afflictions?

You'll have to excuse me if these are stupid questions. I hadn't had time or reason to consider the implications of this until now.

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...If we're being honest with each other, I've been thinking the same thing since I got here.

[Hold tightening just slightly on Diarmuid's shoulders, Waver brought a hand to thread reassuringly through his knight's hair.]

Part of me kind of...cracked, after you died. It's hard to explain; you seemed content, and it isn't as though either of us lacked a measure of closure. But when everything was said and done, even though I was able to pick myself up well enough it felt like something was missing--I was lonely again, probably. I spent a few years studying mythology, did a little traveling...I felt like I was reaching for something I'd never be able to get a hold of again.

It's the best and worst thing for me to be able to see you again. Worst because I don't want to think about what kind of reaction I might have to losing you again.

I'm sorry, Diarmuid. I'm sorry I put you through that, and I'm sorry I'm still putting you through it right now.

Then we are even, because I did more than crack a little when I saw your body.

[Shame colors Diarmuid's face as he thinks about what he had done--the horrid things he said. He might not be able to remember what he had exactly said to who, but deep down part of him screams every time he thinks of how he had raged. That is all he needs to know. Thinking of it now actually causes him to shake, his grip tightening on Waver.]

But that doesn't matter. I don't want you to be sorry. I don't ever want you to be sorry for this. Even if losing you would kill me, I don't want to go back to the person who didn't know you and how happy you made me. Please....don't regret. Not about this.

[He takes a moment to calm his shaking and then finally moves away from Waver.]

I know...I know you didn't want to make a formal contract between us again because of how you thought it might affect our relationship, but...do you think if we reform it now it might help bring us back together if the tower separates us? It is a bonding of souls after all...

I can't say 'I won't go anywhere.' We both know that's not something we can control. But I don't intend to just die or disappear without a fight. And I want to be able to live a life without regrets, even if I know I'll trip up and make mistakes...so if you insist, then I won't apologize.

[Unconsciously, Waver drew his left hand over the faded scars of Command Spells on his right.]

...Would you want to? I mean--after what happened with you, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't trust anyone with that kind of power.

I do insist, so please, don't. We all make mistakes, but as long as we keep fighting that is all that matters.

[Diarmuid reaches out and takes Waver's right hand into his own, raising in to his lips and gently kissing it.]

You're right. I don't trust just anyone anymore. You, however, are not just anyone. I trust you with all that I am. If you are comfortable with this, then so am I.

[There was a moment in which Waver contemplated the matter; it was true he had no intention of misusing his Command Spells. Not to mention it would most likely be a mutually beneficial arrangement for them. Even after thinking it through, he couldn't see any real reason not to.]

[Drawing his hand back and holding it up in front of him, Waver took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was no complex matter to form a new contract with an already existing Servant, just a concentrated gathering and manipulation of magical energy. Simple or not, he wouldn't dare risk making a single misstep.]

Thou shalt come under my command, and my fate shall be thy sword.

[Not a moment was spared to the recollection of the actual words. He'd never forgotten them in the first place.]

Abiding by the summons of the Holy Grail, if thou dost accede to this will and reason--

[The magus's right hand twitched as the decade-old marks brightened into the familiar brand, engraving themselves with a sharp burning sensation. He didn't dare open his eyes to look at them, concentration focused entirely inward upon managing his own prana and establishing the contract.]

Edited 2013-04-10 06:10 (UTC)

[Diarmuid closes his eyes as he feels a familiar pull call to him, beckoning him to answer it. If it had been coming from anyone else, the feeling would have terrified him after all that has happened to him. Instead, he feels an odd sort of relief.

It's almost as if he is going home.]

I, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne called into the class of Lancer, do so accede and accept thee as my master.

And more so, as my friend.

[There was a prominent sense of nostalgia to the whole thing. Waver knew the gentle weight of this contract drawing on his energy, tying him to a constant awareness of this specific heroic spirit's reassuring presence. Yet it was more than just that. All at once he recalled the elation upon seeing his Command Spells for the first time, remembered the endless irritation Lancer had been a source of, how hard they had fought and suffered together, and the strange feeling of finally coming to properly understand the Servant he had summoned out of spite and desperation.]

[For a long moment he stared at his own Command Spells with a very distant look as memories from ten years before played out in his head as vividly as though they'd happened that morning. Finally, he looked up with a genuine smile on his face, saying the first thing that really came to mind:]

...Welcome back.

[Diarmuid returns Waver's smile with one of his own. It's hard to describe, but there is a warm feeling inside of him that just keeps growing the longer he looks at Waver.]

I'm home.

Now you really are stuck with me forever. I hope you are prepared.

I see no problems with that. In fact, I should say exactly the same to you. [Laughing, he shrugged his shoulders.] You're really just going to accept being stuck with me?

More than accept it, I will welcome it.

[Diarmuid grins widely at Waver.]

Life is not lived if there is no challenge, after all.

So you take it upon yourself to challenge my patience? I'm flattered, Diarmuid.

[Diarmuid laughs and then shrugs.]

Someone has to keep you in line. I mean, how else will I know if you put those kissing skills I teach you to good use?

Popular as I might be back home, I seriously doubt you have to worry about that.

Mmm...their loss then.

[Diarmuid grins and leans in close to Waver again, dropping a gentle kiss on his lips.]

Besides, in the slim chance that I actually approve of someone else kissing you, I probably would still be jealous of them...

[Waver laughed under his breath, arms resting lightly over his Servant's shoulders.]

Is that so? I'd hate to see you jealous over something so trivial.

[Beat.]

You know, when we get back to the Clock Tower, between the two of us we might have the entire female population of England following us around.

[A sort of childish mischief fills Diarmuid's eyes.]

Is that permission for me to lead them on a chase and then vanish into spirit form leaving them wondering what just happened?

[He winks at Waver.]

It would be one way to get out of teaching a troublesome class...

I would not be at all against this idea, frankly. It gets tiring having half one's female students staring at you funny all the time.

[Diarmuid nods, a knowing look in his eyes.]

Believe me, I know. Have any of them ever...tried anything? Or is your position enough that they don't do more than look?

I'm a bit more fortunate than you on that front. Schoolgirl crushes, nothing more than an annoyance and an inconvenience.

Fortunate indeed.

[He takes a deep breath, letting it relieve tension he didn't even know was there. Part of him had apparently been very worried about Waver suffering a fate similar to his own. Diarmuid then smirks at him.]

So how many of them will have heart attacks if they see us kiss?

[Waver gave that some serious thought for a moment, sighing.]

Half of them would probably cry, and knowing my luck the rest would take pictures.

Fans, hu? Why am I not surprised? I'm not sure if I should be laughing or if I should just be terrified instead.

[Diarmuid pauses a moment, falling into thought, before speaking again with a more serious look on his face.]

Have you thought about what you will have me do while I am with you there? Are you going to have me guard you or maybe be an assistant or what? I don't know much about magic, but I could sure fetch a book you forgot in your office rather quickly...

Both, probably.

[Waver shrugged, indifferent and dismissive.]

I hadn't given it too much thought--whatever you want to, I suppose.

[Diarmuid's eyes dart away from Waver and he suddenly seems a little...shy.]

I want too much. I want to help you. I want to know all about the things that are important in your life. I want to know about your job. I want to know about those students you want to push out a window because they keep stealing your supplies... I want to know about all that kind of stuff even if you don't think it's very interesting.

If I am actually going to be living in the modern world, I have a lot to learn. About everything. The information I was given by the Grail is patchy at best and totally unhelpful or even misleading at worst.

[A slow smile crossed Waver's face as Diarmuid spoke; it was a little strange to think the simplest things could be of such importance. Hadn't he been just the same back then, reacting with a sense of fascination to even a pair of sunglasses? Waver found it a little irritating back then, but the shy admittance now was somehow endearing.]

I'd hardly call that too much.

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