[closed] june catch-all!

[ua_duibhne]

Who: Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, Waver Velvet, Justine (will edit as necessary)
When: Throughout June
Where: The Coven, the Haven, etc
What: A June catch-all log! Moving in, magic practice goes Wrong and other shenanigans.
Warnings: n/a

[starters in comments!]

Comments

closed to waver

[ua_duibhne]

[Really, it’s “moving in day” in name only. Neither Waver nor Diarmuid have anything of note that needs to be “moved in” so to speak and, in the end, all they have left to do but pick up the keys and carry what little they own up to the apartment. The first half of that was left to his new roommate and he’s taking care of what he can of the latter. As he ascends the stairs, Diarmuid has a well-worn suit-case, bought from another student at the Coven and filled with books borrowed from the library along with a handful of second hand clothes, in one hand and Gáe Dearg in the other.

Still, he pauses at the top to glance back at Waver. If there’s one thing he’s learned about the young Master over the past month it’s that, for all his maturation, his ego is still easily bruised; the last thing he’d want to do is give the impression that he thinks he’s incompetent. Discretion is a key part of serving someone, after all, and it's always been something he's prided himself on.

So, he takes a casual tone.]

Let me carry your things. You won’t be able to open the door with your hands full.

[He tucks his spear under his arm and waits expectantly.]

[tryhard]

[ Waver's collected a few odds and ends, himself, of a rather similar nature to Diarmuid: a couple extra sets of clothes in as plain and familiar fashion as he could find; books he's borrowed from the University library; some notebooks and writing supplies of his own, and even one or two books he's managed to buy secondhand on alchemy and magical theory in Geardagas. In preparation for moving into a place where they'll need to be more self-sustaining, he's also purchased some useful household items and kitchen supplies. Overall, it amounts to a small suitcase and a few bags, and rather an armful considering his own slight stature.

In other words, the offer is appreciated rather than resented and Waver nods, pausing to adjust some of his bags so he can hand them off. ]

Sure. Thanks.

[ He has to fish out the keys from his pocket too, squeezing past Diarumuid as he does so to wrangle open the lock one-handed, since he hadn't given up his suitcase. ]

Here. This is it, then...

[ 'Home' for now. Waver holds open the door once inside, making room for Diarmuid. ]

It's not too bad.

[ Honestly, it's better than most of the housing he's been able to afford for himself in general. It still makes him feel weirdly suspicious that it's all rent-free. ]

[ua_duibhne]

[Practically speaking, it made more sense to Diarmuid to leave purchasing the kitchenware to Waver; while he's adapted quickly to having to eat and sleep, he's so out of touch with the modern necessities that make those things easier that he's not sure where to begin. The Grail might have made him aware of their existence but getting him into the habit of using them over more familiar, less sensible methods might take a while.

Looks like they're more or less covered, though. He takes the bags, hooking one in the crook of his arm, and presses himself back up against the wall as Waver edges past.]

I wasn't sure how furnished it would be but...

[With a nod of thanks, he follows him inside- and is just as surprised by what he finds. The apartment is small but welcoming with a cast iron fireplace and a bay window providing a place to sit and watch the street below. Two worn chairs and a dusty, empty bookcase take up much of the rest of the room. It's basic and "lived in" but comfortable enough.]

... but it seems I was wrong to worry. [Smiling, he sets both the bags and his own case down.] You're right. It's not bad at all.

[Automatically, he starts to unlace his boots- only to change his mind when he realises that the floorboards could really do with a mop. Instead, then, he claps his hands together.]

Where should we start?

[tryhard]

[ The apartments might not be as lavish as the more aristocratic houses, but this suits Waver more than fine; he's not sure how comfortable he'd have been living in someone's fancy home anyway, especially knowing the Coven has somehow arranged for their stay in one of the nicest areas. At least in this case, he can tell himself these flats are meant to be rented out, and if the Coven wants to take care of the rent, he shouldn't complain. There's a sense of added distance and downplayed luxury, and though he's still kind of unsure about the whole situation, this is perhaps the best option to choose from.

Lancer isn't that loud, familiar idiot, and Waver would be lying to say he didn't sorely miss Rider every time he got to thinking about how chance had brought him the 'wrong' Heroic Spirit, but after the initial bout of self-pity and frustration at the universe, he's settled into this arrangement too. Even if Lancer isn't a Servant, the agreement they'd made feels like a contract of sorts. It's something Waver can understand, with someone who has shared -- at least in part -- one of the most impactful experiences of Waver's life, and he's coming to accept that in a sense, this has been lucky too. It could have been worse. (It always could have been better too, but... well.)

He just hopes Lancer is a neater roommate than Rider had been.

Setting his bags down on the floor for now, Waver begins by making a tour around the living room area immediately visible, peering down the narrow hall toward the bedrooms. He wrinkles his nose a bit when he swipes a finger through the dust on the bookshelf. ]

Cleaning. Definitely start with cleaning.

[ Though, actually, it looks like he's starting with taking a closer look around all the rooms first once he's finished examining the living room. Kitchen is next, also thankfully furnished, complete with what appears to be a magitech-powered icebox of sorts and a gas stove. ]

I have some basic supplies, soap and sponges. I didn't think to get rags...

[ Does one buy rags? That seems counter-intuitive. Waver straightens from peering at the stove and sighs. He's starting to wander down the short hall to pick a bedroom, casting an uncertain glance back at Diarmuid. ]

I don't suppose any of the Coven mages taught you how to enchant a broom or mop yet?

[ua_duibhne]

[Oh, they've certainly tried. Diarmuid's still trying to forget about the mage who attempted to teach him how to get a broom to sweep by itself and ended up with a face full of bristles. She thought it was hilarious- "Don't worry- it's not the first time someone's accidentally hit me in the face with cleaning equipment."- but he was so embarrassed that he hasn't tried it again since.

But he's keeping that particular story to himself.]

... I've... mostly been focusing on other kinds of magic but they've shown me the basics. [In case he sounds too hesitant, though, he flashes Waver a smile.] Just leave it to me.

[The supplies are all ready to go and, after a little investigation, he locates a mop in one of the cupboards along with a bucket, which he quickly fills. It would be easy enough just to do it by hand- in fact, it would probably be more efficient- but now he actually wants to test out his abilities again.

Almost as though he were readying up for a duel, Diarmuid rolls his shoulders and stretches off his arms. It isn't that he doesn't have confidence in himself so much as he doesn't want to appear a fool in front of Waver too.]

I'm starting on the floor. Be careful not to slip on the way back.

[or better yet please stay in the bedroom long enough for him to remember how to do this]

Oh, and I don't have a preference for rooms: as long as there's a bed, I'm satisfied.

[tryhard]

[ Waver had been asking mostly rhetorically, not having actually expected Diarmuid to know how to do that sort of thing, certainly not with any skill, considering he's so new at this. Then again, maybe he's just naturally talented or something. Or maybe it's easier here. Waver's still learning about magic in this place, and without being able to practice it himself, the endeavor has been admittedly rather frustrating and depressing so basically par for the course.

He actually eyes Diarmuid, a little impressed. Possibly a little jealous (or more than a little). But Waver doesn't question it. He nods, picks up his suitcase, and heads down the hall. ]

You've picked up on things quick, huh? All right. Thanks...

[ He's just gonna go sulk in his room. Whenever he chooses a room.

As it turns out, Diarmuid will have plenty of time to figure out the mop. Waver starts by looking over each room thoroughly, and though they're both similar and look perfectly fine, for some reason he can't commit to one. Rather, for some reason, he can't feel satisfied, a nagging feeling tugging him from one to the other a few times, where he does loops around every part of the small area and then back out to the shared bathroom in the hall. It's not that he dislikes either room, but until he's been through every inch and familiarized himself with how they're laid out and how they feel, he's just restlessly... sniffing around. Fuck.

Disconcerted by his own confusing instincts -- if something so unnatural can be called that -- Waver finally settles for the room with the better view of the street outside and anyone who might approach the building. He tells himself it's because the view of the city in general is nicer.

Eventually, having tried to calm down a bit and start unpacking his meager belongings, Waver does wander back out to see how the cleaning is going. ]

Lancer...? Is the floor still wet?

[ He'd thought Lancer would have come to look over his own room by now too. ]

[ua_duibhne]

[As Waver struggles with the dilemma of which room to claim as his own, Diarmuid face a problem all of his own making. The incantation used to charm the mop is simple enough and, with the affinity for magic this place granted him, they trip off of his tongue easily enough. After just his practice chant, he sees the mop twitch and, when he casts it in earnest, the energy flows with little restraint.

Too little.

It all goes well at first. As he watches in delighted silence, the mop swings itself upright and swivels this way and that, as though surveying the job ahead of it. After a few moments, though, it seems satisfied and, with a little hop, dunks itself in the bucket and begins to clean the floor. With a satisfied nod, Diarmuid turns his attention to the bookcase and fetches a cloth to try and make a head start on the dusting. He's only on the second shelf, however, when he feels something drip onto the back of his neck. Frowning, he turns-

- and ends up with a mouthful of mop.

When Waver returns, he'll find Diarmuid wrestling on the floor with a mop that's all too determined to scrub that mole off of his face. No wonder he sounds so panicked.]

Ah, Waver, no-! Don't come in y-

[Well, there goes his dignity.]

[tryhard]

Eh?!

[ Waver, to his credit, immediately jumps to action. He moves to grab the mop, trying to wrestle it off of poor Diarmuid's face before it suffocates him in its efforts. ]

Lancer? What happened?! What did you do to-- wah?! Ouch, HEY!!

[ Unfortunately Waver's little stick arms don't seem to be enough to yank away an actual stick, which whaps him across the chest in a wide swing that sends him sprawling down onto his ass. ]

Dispel! Dispel whatever you did, you idiot!

[ Sorry, Lancer. He can't be very polite when he's splat on the damp ground, ass smarting. It's nothing personal, really. ]

[ua_duibhne]

[You know, in a stupid way, it's kind of nice that he talks to him exactly the same way he talked to Rider. Not that he can really appreciate it under these circumstances. Waver's efforts earn him a moment of reprieve- long enough for him to focus and bring to mind the spell that he was taught to make the damn thing stop.]

I'm trying-!

[Before the mop can go to town on his face all over again, shoves it away with one hand and spits out a command. Sure, he gets a mouthful of dirty, soapy water in the process but, seconds later, it stiffens, shudders and clatters to the ground.

Slowly, Diarmuid sits up. He's soaking wet and covered in suds, the waves knocked out of his hair where it's half plastered across his face.]

... Waver Velvet. [As quietly as he's speaking, there's no disguising the embarrassment.] If you would keep this between us, I'd be very grateful.

[tryhard]

[ Waver quickly scoots back out of the way as the mop clatters lifelessly onto the floor just about where he'd been sitting a few moments ago. He stares up at Diarmuid, both of them just catching their breaths in a moment of silence for their respective dignities...

Then, Waver sighs loudly and moves to picks himself up, grabbing the mop on the way. He hopes the shower works. ]

Don't be dramatic. Who would I even tell?

Let's just clean up the old fashioned way. No more spellwork you don't know how to handle. I won't have you flooding the whole flat.

Got it?