[ Flat has told Waver where he lives, though Waver's never been before. Even after what happened the previous month, when Waver had been intending to go visit him, he'd waffled uncertainly for too long; Flat had beat him to it.
Now, with the barely-waning moons still tugging at his mind and instincts, he can't settle down. Yesterday had been the worst of it, and he'd stayed home, close to Iskandar and focused on trying to relax and not to focus on the pain in his bones or the way everything seemed too intense from scent to sound to anger and desire. Iskandar can handle it.
Waver doesn't want to bother Flat with his new burdens again. But he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it: what he did, how they hurt each other, why he still feels so wretched about it even when Flat had hurt him too and they'd talked about it. The realization appears more as instinct than thought.
Somehow, whether due to Flat's tales of how the future-him had cared for Flat or due to their strange sort-of friendship here -- or both -- Waver has come to think of the other boy as one of... his. Part of his pack. The thought isn't conscious, but the feeling is there, and around this time of the month, it's strong.
It's a bit late when Waver knocks on Flat's door, not so late as to be truly unreasonable but later than would normally be polite. Catching Flat's scent beyond the door, Waver's tail quivers in anticipation, waiting for him to appear. ]
if he had to be honest with himself, flat had realized that he was sleeping quite a bit more than usual. his body always felt a bit exhausted, and sleeping for half of the day was becoming more and more of a habit for him.
it was a little frustrating he had to admit.
bringing his head up from the book he was using as a pillow (rarely he made it to his bed, usually ending up on the couch or the floor) he hears the knocking on the door. whatever time of the night it was doesn't matter to flat--the curiosity of knowing who was behind the door knocking was more than enough to get him to open, enough to see who the person is. ]
W-Waver?
[ flat is definitely surprised. to think that waver came to his place, and so late, too! there must be something happening. something he needs or wants-- but what could he want from him?
flat looks behind his shoulder, back to his apartment. it's dark because he forgot to turn the lamps on, but it's fine. ]
Um, come in! If you want? If not, that's fine too.
[ he opens the door entirely, hovering awkwardly in case waver actually does want to come in. if only he had known he was going to have guests! ]
[ It's dark, but that doesn't bother Waver, whose eyes can see better in darkness these days. They glint, flashing pinpoints of light in the shadows. His ears swivel forward eagerly as he presses closer, barely waiting for Flat's invitation.
It's probably awkward, and he's sort of trying to control himself, but he just wants to walk around Flat and scent him... and get his scent on him. It's difficult to deny the need.
Instead, Waver takes a deep breath and attempts to settle for a handshake. From closer than he probably should have been standing for a normal, polite gesture. Actually, he ends up sort of just grabbing Flat's hand whether he offers it or not... ]
H-hey, Flat. I just thought I'd... stop by.
[ Waver's claws are long and untrimmed right now (they won't stay trimmed even if he tries, not around the full moons). Even when he can resist the transformation, there's something about him that looks more... wild. Certainly though, it's not at all approaching how he'd been when the moons' influence had mixed with the mists last month.
Waver clasps Flat's hand a bit too long, surreptitiously sniffing the air around him, when he realizes how sleepy he looks. Oh, no. ]
[ when waver takes his hand so suddenly, flat doesn’t seem all that shocked or bothered by it. he stares at it curiously, giving it a squeeze back. a handshake! however, waver will be able to notice the patch on his forearm, like it’s hiding some sort of injury.
however, he has seen similarly weird behavior before—from svin, actually. this was how he always acted, without a sense of personal space, sniffing and looking just like... a dog. and, having seen waver under the effects of the mist, this level of feral behavior isn’t frightening in the least.
he realizes that it’s the day after the full moon—how does he act the day of? flat hopes he can see that one day.
but when waver lets go, abashed by having woken him up, flat laughs, taking his hand again. ]
It’s fine! I feel totally rested, so please, come in!
[ he turns on a lamp, which is enough to show the main room for what it is. and what it is is...something just as strange as flat himself. it’s like something devoid of actual warmth, as if something had simply arrived there and took shelter, rather than someone actually living there.
where most of the activity happens is in the edge of the living room. papers are scattered about, like a flurry—if waver checks any of them out, he’ll see that they’re written in multiple languages. french and english, but also in glyphs and numbers, like they have some meaning to flat. there’s books, all of them in different subjects, and vials with something dark in them.
there’s also a blanket there—clearly, thats where flat had been sleeping. ]
So there’s not much I can offer... but how are you? Is the full moon still affecting you?
[ He's already basically come in, but the invitation eases some of Waver's sheepishness, and he lets Flat pull him all the way inside and close the door behind them. The light isn't entirely necessary for Waver, but it does illuminate some things that hadn't been as clear at a glance. They're still not entirely clear. That whole corner is...?? Waver wonders what's in the vials.
But he wonders more what the bandage on Flat's arm is. He steps closer again, watching him. ]
It's all right. I don't need any--
Huh?
[ The blunt question catches Waver off-guard. His ears twitch, and his cheeks color. ]
I- I guess... a little...
[ He would have denied it, if not for the guilt of what had happened last time when he'd lost control. That hadn't just been the moons, of course, but it's going to be haunting him for a bit, it seems. ]
[ waver doesn’t need to come any closer, because it’s flat that gets close up, studying him for a second with that chipper smile of his. if he was concerned about being attacked, he wasn’t showing it one bit.
and, in all honesty, he wasn’t. ]
I was just wondering if you needed help. I’m currently trying to work with the bit of poison that C-Berserker gave me, but I haven’t been able to make it into anything good yet. So it’d be no good. But that’s fine! Le Chien used to get like this sometimes too.
[ he sits back down on the floor, looking at the papers like they mean something to him. then he throws them to the side, looking up at waver with a big smile. ]
[ ...help? What kind of 'help' is Flat offering? Waver's flush deepens a little more, uncomfortably, his ears lowering. He feels silly coming out here, waking Flat up. Now what?
Yet, at the same time, as he sits down alongside Flat on the floor to peer at his array of random curiosities, Waver feels a lot better about being near him. Reaffirming this is someone who is in his 'pack' and who he wants to protect, even though he hurt him recently. Waver scoots closer, unconsciously. His instincts still push him insidiously, without his really realizing it, the constant nagging desire to make sure his scent is here and stays with Flat, claiming him as one of his own.
Right now, Waver settles for simply kneeling beside him, just a little closer than is likely polite. ]
How would poison help me?
[ Waver gathers quickly enough who 'C-Berserker' is supposed to be. ]
I just... wanted to drop by and make sure you're doing all right. [ Waver admits sheepishly. It sounds kind of weird saying it aloud, huh? ]
All healed and... whatever. What happened to your arm?
Not much as it is right now! But don't all medicines come from things that are poisonous?
[ flat shrugs, not appearing to care about the distance between himself and waver. he's had more than enough from svin to be used to it, and his own concept of personal space is skewed enough to view this as normal.
when waver asks about his arm, however, flat can't help but laugh a little. ]
Ah~ that's right. Berserker bit me during the masquerade. It wasn't that bad though--I wanted to see what his poison was like, so he bit me a little. [ he takes off the patch. there's not much there anymore, but the teeth marks are still visible as thin scars. ] That's what inspired me to try and make something with it! But I don't seem to be having any luck so far.
Waver stares at him, baffled. He's not even angry, just sort of wtf. And maybe a little embarrassed, for some reason. And maybe a little... no, not jealous, but annoyed. A flare of possessive irritation grips him, and even Waver doesn't know who it's cropping up over, whether it's Flat or Berserker.
Though it's hidden by the collar of his shirt, his own neck bears evidence of those same teeth marks, even if he only barely remembers the night last month. Possibly the same night he'd later hurt Flat--
No. He doesn't want to think about it. He's here to make things better, not dwell.
Waver scoots closer. ]
Don't be so irresponsible. What if it had affected you badly? What are you even trying to make? You can't decide to grab random volatile magical ingredients on a whim and splash them together and hope you'll come up with something useful.
Well, I wanted to know what the venom was like. He suggested biting me, and here we are!
[ flat notices the way that waver's getting irritated, the way that he moves closer to him to reprimand him for his recklessness. and yet all he can do is continue to smile pleasantly at him, even laughing a little.
his eyes however, were sharp, almost as if trying to see through waver himself. he himself scoots closer. not touching, but close. ]
I thought you trusted Berserker, Waver. And he's my friend, so I know that he won't hurt me unless I ask him to. Besides, haven't most of the greatest scientific discoveries been made through accidents?
[ Waver looks genuinely wounded for a moment, though he tries to cover it up with the incredulous question that actually has nothing to do with the sinking, sick feeling the reminder brings: he'd hurt Flat, without being asked, and he feels like a shit friend for it. This is someone he needs to protect and keep an eye on. It's shameful.
--dammit. He really can't shake the thought. ]
That doesn't even sound like an accident. What are you playing around with here?
[ Waver gestures sharply at the other vials and papers and mess. ]
If you make your flat-- a-apartment explode... I'm not helping you!
Oh man, you don't know how many times I've accidentally let out poison gas in my dorm back in the Clock Tower.
[ he looks at the vials, and the papers that waver's pointing to, nodding. ]
I don't think I can really explain it to you. They're just....tests! Different concentrations and what not. I was inspired by toads and mushrooms-- but none of this is volatile! I mean, I'm sure I could make it volatile and have it be used as a weapon...
[ his voice trails off, picking up a paper to study it. the thing is practically all made up of ciphers and practically incomprehensible gibberish, but flat somehow seems to read it naturally.
ah well, that's for later. ]
Anyways, what's wrong with me asking him to hurt me? If it's what I want and if it's what he wants, isn't it okay? Or--
[ and that's when flat gets as close as possible, his smile widening as their noses are practically touching. ]
--are you jealous? Do you want me to ask you to hurt me?
[ Waver starts to scold him again, but any attempt to deflect by focusing on his experimental potions or even learn if there's any validity to Flat's work here is derailed by Flat's next question.
And then Flat's face where it's suddenly all Waver can see and focus on, the warmth of the other boy's breath ghosting over his lips, the scent of him intensely close.
[ Barely balancing an armful of books and papers, his overstuffed satchel, and a (thankfully-closed) bottle of coffee, Waver still inadvisably attempts to walk and try to check his watch at the same time.
--and ends up very nearly crashing right into Berserker as he turns into the entrance of their apartment building. ]
Wah!
[ Startled, Waver stumbles back and promptly falls right on his ass. ]
[ It's been awhile since he's seen Waver -- their encounter during the mist is a haze and he's still not entirely sure what happened. He hasn't quite been avoiding him, but seeing him was not exactly on the top of his priority list. So of course they'd run into each other (nearly literally, in this case). Berserker gives him a moderately annoyed glance, then offers his hand. ]
You should be more careful.
[ Maybe...Maybe Waver didn't remember and they could move past this quickly. ]
[ The falls scatters some of Waver's papers, though he manages to hold on to most of what he's got, and the canteen full of coffee remains mercifully unspilt. Waver groans, a little sore and mostly annoyed at himself. He looks up just in time to see Berserker stretch his hand out, alarmingly close to his face--
And he flinches back, instinctively. ]
I wasn't-- You surprised me!
[ He argues, distractedly trying to gather up his items before he shoves himself back up to his feet without taking the unspoken offer. He's not entirely sure why, but his heart is beating fast.
Waver doesn't really remember their last encounter. He recalls that he was with Berserker at some point during the events of that cursed mist; he remembers blood, sex, violence, the vague aftermath of anger and lust, but nothing in great detail. At least, he didn't think he remembered anything.
But perhaps some part of him does cling to something of the past, reflexively. Waver ducks his head, ears down, pupils suddenly gone wide. Something kicks off his fight-or-flight instincts, but he refuses to listen to stupid animal urges right now. This is ridiculous. ]
[ Oh, he remembered. Some part of him obviously remembered with that reaction. It's not Waver's normal combative behavior -- that usually didn't ignore polite gestures unless they offended him on some level. Berserker makes a face as his hand drops back to his side. ]
... You're acting strangely. [ It's pointless to say so and he's expecting another combative, avoidant response. ] Do you want to come in for a bit?
[ Maybe they could just settle things, have a normal conversation. Berserker was coming home to sleep for a bit; his habit of running himself to the point of exhaustion is catching up to him. Now that he has two Bonds, that's two people he doesn't want to inflict his nightmarish dreams on.
Plus... ]
There's something I want to tell you, too. [ A beat. ] It's a good thing.
That's a weird thing to say. [ Waver counters, scowling at him as he rights himself. He brushes off his trousers, flushed with frustrating and embarrassment. But he considers the offer momentarily, hesitant.
In the end, he doesn't answer. He stands there, immediately taking the change in subject instead. ]
[ Yep, there it is. Berserker narrows his eyes, but the annoyance fades quickly. Waver's lack of response also doesn't surprise him. This is already awkward and part of him wants to just turn away and go take his nap without continuing this conversation.
No. Push forward. He starts to turn towards where the door of his apartment is, looking back over his shoulder. ]
[ Despite his caginess, Waver follows. He's not afraid of Berserker, not... exactly. There's just something, a deep, instinctive caution; that same caution dictates that he not make Berserker angry, though. His better senses say the same thing, though for a different reason.
--and he is genuinely curious. ]
So? Are you going to tell me or what?
[ Waver prompts, a little snappishly. Berserker and Diarmuid live on the first floor, the path a familiar one, making it easy to give into muscle memory. Waver still thinks of it a little bit as home. ]
I wanted to wait to get inside, [ he snaps right back as he enters the apartment. Outer layers are stripped off, boots left by the door. ] Caster...gave me another name.
[ It's probably not important to Waver, but it's important to Berserker. It's a significant step forward for him. There's also the other Bond he's taken on, but...maybe later. ]
[ Waver stops inside the apartment. He doesn't try to stay outside or run, doesn't feel too nervous even, now that they're inside. It's familiar, still smells like him and like Diarmuid, like something that's his even if he doesn't live here anymore.
Waver looks up at Berserker, waiting by the door without taking off his shoes yet or setting down his things. This doesn't seem like the sort of thing to interrupt, though he doesn't really understand. ]
I gave up my identity as a Servant and...my True Name doesn't fit me. [ Not really. Alters are a confusing, terrible existence, embodying memories of someone they never really were. Wait... ] ... Do you know what an Alter Servant is?
[ Berserker's been cagey about his origins and for good reason. It's dangerous for Caster if he's too open about it, plus it's a sore spot for himself. ]
[ Waver blinks. He shifts his weight uncertainly from one foot to the other, then slowly bends to unzip his boots one by one and leave them by the door. ]
...no.
[ He shakes his head, truthfully. Berserker told him his name, but Waver has had no way to research it, and he'd seemed unhappy to talk more about it, so he hasn't pressed. He doesn't really know much about Berserker's origins or his life before becoming a Heroic Spirit-- or even after. He just knows Berserker here. What he was before then, Berserker had made it seem like he didn't want to bring it up and it didn't matter, so Waver hasn't pushed.
Now, he listens. The skittishness fades with the help of the familiar environment and distracting conversation. He steps closer, moving toward the sofa to set his things down on it and the coffee table for now. ]
A corruption of a Heroic Spirit. An impossibility that should never exist. A selfish woman's wish created me...I am not the true Cú Chulainn. [ Caster isn't either -- they're two possibilities that may have happened if he hadn't died young. ] I was forced to kill and kill and kill to survive...I gave up everything in the name of strength, including most of my emotions. My only focus was survival with no joy left for battle, something I lived for before. I was full of nothing but resentment for my own existence and apathy for everything else.
[ It's difficult to talk about himself and his circumstances. He trusts Waver, though, so it's okay. Being vulnerable is still difficult. ]
I'm beginning to grow past the corruption and Medb's influence. [ Yes, she gets name dropped because fuck her. ] This is why I wanted to give up my identity as a Servant now...
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for flat, the day after the full moons.
Now, with the barely-waning moons still tugging at his mind and instincts, he can't settle down. Yesterday had been the worst of it, and he'd stayed home, close to Iskandar and focused on trying to relax and not to focus on the pain in his bones or the way everything seemed too intense from scent to sound to anger and desire. Iskandar can handle it.
Waver doesn't want to bother Flat with his new burdens again. But he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it: what he did, how they hurt each other, why he still feels so wretched about it even when Flat had hurt him too and they'd talked about it. The realization appears more as instinct than thought.
Somehow, whether due to Flat's tales of how the future-him had cared for Flat or due to their strange sort-of friendship here -- or both -- Waver has come to think of the other boy as one of... his. Part of his pack. The thought isn't conscious, but the feeling is there, and around this time of the month, it's strong.
It's a bit late when Waver knocks on Flat's door, not so late as to be truly unreasonable but later than would normally be polite. Catching Flat's scent beyond the door, Waver's tail quivers in anticipation, waiting for him to appear. ]
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if he had to be honest with himself, flat had realized that he was sleeping quite a bit more than usual. his body always felt a bit exhausted, and sleeping for half of the day was becoming more and more of a habit for him.
it was a little frustrating he had to admit.
bringing his head up from the book he was using as a pillow (rarely he made it to his bed, usually ending up on the couch or the floor) he hears the knocking on the door. whatever time of the night it was doesn't matter to flat--the curiosity of knowing who was behind the door knocking was more than enough to get him to open, enough to see who the person is. ]
W-Waver?
[ flat is definitely surprised. to think that waver came to his place, and so late, too! there must be something happening. something he needs or wants-- but what could he want from him?
flat looks behind his shoulder, back to his apartment. it's dark because he forgot to turn the lamps on, but it's fine. ]
Um, come in! If you want? If not, that's fine too.
[ he opens the door entirely, hovering awkwardly in case waver actually does want to come in. if only he had known he was going to have guests! ]
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It's probably awkward, and he's sort of trying to control himself, but he just wants to walk around Flat and scent him... and get his scent on him. It's difficult to deny the need.
Instead, Waver takes a deep breath and attempts to settle for a handshake. From closer than he probably should have been standing for a normal, polite gesture. Actually, he ends up sort of just grabbing Flat's hand whether he offers it or not... ]
H-hey, Flat. I just thought I'd... stop by.
[ Waver's claws are long and untrimmed right now (they won't stay trimmed even if he tries, not around the full moons). Even when he can resist the transformation, there's something about him that looks more... wild. Certainly though, it's not at all approaching how he'd been when the moons' influence had mixed with the mists last month.
Waver clasps Flat's hand a bit too long, surreptitiously sniffing the air around him, when he realizes how sleepy he looks. Oh, no. ]
Ah! Sorry, did I wake you?
[ Waver lets go, taking a quick half-step back. ]
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however, he has seen similarly weird behavior before—from svin, actually. this was how he always acted, without a sense of personal space, sniffing and looking just like... a dog. and, having seen waver under the effects of the mist, this level of feral behavior isn’t frightening in the least.
he realizes that it’s the day after the full moon—how does he act the day of? flat hopes he can see that one day.
but when waver lets go, abashed by having woken him up, flat laughs, taking his hand again. ]
It’s fine! I feel totally rested, so please, come in!
[ he turns on a lamp, which is enough to show the main room for what it is. and what it is is...something just as strange as flat himself. it’s like something devoid of actual warmth, as if something had simply arrived there and took shelter, rather than someone actually living there.
where most of the activity happens is in the edge of the living room. papers are scattered about, like a flurry—if waver checks any of them out, he’ll see that they’re written in multiple languages. french and english, but also in glyphs and numbers, like they have some meaning to flat. there’s books, all of them in different subjects, and vials with something dark in them.
there’s also a blanket there—clearly, thats where flat had been sleeping. ]
So there’s not much I can offer... but how are you? Is the full moon still affecting you?
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[ He's already basically come in, but the invitation eases some of Waver's sheepishness, and he lets Flat pull him all the way inside and close the door behind them. The light isn't entirely necessary for Waver, but it does illuminate some things that hadn't been as clear at a glance. They're still not entirely clear. That whole corner is...?? Waver wonders what's in the vials.
But he wonders more what the bandage on Flat's arm is. He steps closer again, watching him. ]
It's all right. I don't need any--
Huh?
[ The blunt question catches Waver off-guard. His ears twitch, and his cheeks color. ]
I- I guess... a little...
[ He would have denied it, if not for the guilt of what had happened last time when he'd lost control. That hadn't just been the moons, of course, but it's going to be haunting him for a bit, it seems. ]
I'm okay, though. I'm... me. Don't worry.
[ I'm not going to attack you. ]
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[ waver doesn’t need to come any closer, because it’s flat that gets close up, studying him for a second with that chipper smile of his. if he was concerned about being attacked, he wasn’t showing it one bit.
and, in all honesty, he wasn’t. ]
I was just wondering if you needed help. I’m currently trying to work with the bit of poison that C-Berserker gave me, but I haven’t been able to make it into anything good yet. So it’d be no good. But that’s fine! Le Chien used to get like this sometimes too.
[ he sits back down on the floor, looking at the papers like they mean something to him. then he throws them to the side, looking up at waver with a big smile. ]
So! What’s up?
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Yet, at the same time, as he sits down alongside Flat on the floor to peer at his array of random curiosities, Waver feels a lot better about being near him. Reaffirming this is someone who is in his 'pack' and who he wants to protect, even though he hurt him recently. Waver scoots closer, unconsciously. His instincts still push him insidiously, without his really realizing it, the constant nagging desire to make sure his scent is here and stays with Flat, claiming him as one of his own.
Right now, Waver settles for simply kneeling beside him, just a little closer than is likely polite. ]
How would poison help me?
[ Waver gathers quickly enough who 'C-Berserker' is supposed to be. ]
I just... wanted to drop by and make sure you're doing all right. [ Waver admits sheepishly. It sounds kind of weird saying it aloud, huh? ]
All healed and... whatever. What happened to your arm?
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[ flat shrugs, not appearing to care about the distance between himself and waver. he's had more than enough from svin to be used to it, and his own concept of personal space is skewed enough to view this as normal.
when waver asks about his arm, however, flat can't help but laugh a little. ]
Ah~ that's right. Berserker bit me during the masquerade. It wasn't that bad though--I wanted to see what his poison was like, so he bit me a little. [ he takes off the patch. there's not much there anymore, but the teeth marks are still visible as thin scars. ] That's what inspired me to try and make something with it! But I don't seem to be having any luck so far.
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[ 'A little?'
Waver stares at him, baffled. He's not even angry, just sort of wtf. And maybe a little embarrassed, for some reason. And maybe a little... no, not jealous, but annoyed. A flare of possessive irritation grips him, and even Waver doesn't know who it's cropping up over, whether it's Flat or Berserker.
Though it's hidden by the collar of his shirt, his own neck bears evidence of those same teeth marks, even if he only barely remembers the night last month. Possibly the same night he'd later hurt Flat--
No. He doesn't want to think about it. He's here to make things better, not dwell.
Waver scoots closer. ]
Don't be so irresponsible. What if it had affected you badly? What are you even trying to make? You can't decide to grab random volatile magical ingredients on a whim and splash them together and hope you'll come up with something useful.
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[ flat notices the way that waver's getting irritated, the way that he moves closer to him to reprimand him for his recklessness. and yet all he can do is continue to smile pleasantly at him, even laughing a little.
his eyes however, were sharp, almost as if trying to see through waver himself. he himself scoots closer. not touching, but close. ]
I thought you trusted Berserker, Waver. And he's my friend, so I know that he won't hurt me unless I ask him to. Besides, haven't most of the greatest scientific discoveries been made through accidents?
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[ Waver looks genuinely wounded for a moment, though he tries to cover it up with the incredulous question that actually has nothing to do with the sinking, sick feeling the reminder brings: he'd hurt Flat, without being asked, and he feels like a shit friend for it. This is someone he needs to protect and keep an eye on. It's shameful.
--dammit. He really can't shake the thought. ]
That doesn't even sound like an accident. What are you playing around with here?
[ Waver gestures sharply at the other vials and papers and mess. ]
If you make your flat-- a-apartment explode... I'm not helping you!
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[ he looks at the vials, and the papers that waver's pointing to, nodding. ]
I don't think I can really explain it to you. They're just....tests! Different concentrations and what not. I was inspired by toads and mushrooms-- but none of this is volatile! I mean, I'm sure I could make it volatile and have it be used as a weapon...
[ his voice trails off, picking up a paper to study it. the thing is practically all made up of ciphers and practically incomprehensible gibberish, but flat somehow seems to read it naturally.
ah well, that's for later. ]
Anyways, what's wrong with me asking him to hurt me? If it's what I want and if it's what he wants, isn't it okay? Or--
[ and that's when flat gets as close as possible, his smile widening as their noses are practically touching. ]
--are you jealous? Do you want me to ask you to hurt me?
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[ Waver starts to scold him again, but any attempt to deflect by focusing on his experimental potions or even learn if there's any validity to Flat's work here is derailed by Flat's next question.
And then Flat's face where it's suddenly all Waver can see and focus on, the warmth of the other boy's breath ghosting over his lips, the scent of him intensely close.
Waver reels back, red-faced and heart racing. ]
No!
I don't want to hurt you, you idiot!
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for berserker, late noveuer.
--and ends up very nearly crashing right into Berserker as he turns into the entrance of their apartment building. ]
Wah!
[ Startled, Waver stumbles back and promptly falls right on his ass. ]
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You should be more careful.
[ Maybe...Maybe Waver didn't remember and they could move past this quickly. ]
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And he flinches back, instinctively. ]
I wasn't-- You surprised me!
[ He argues, distractedly trying to gather up his items before he shoves himself back up to his feet without taking the unspoken offer. He's not entirely sure why, but his heart is beating fast.
Waver doesn't really remember their last encounter. He recalls that he was with Berserker at some point during the events of that cursed mist; he remembers blood, sex, violence, the vague aftermath of anger and lust, but nothing in great detail. At least, he didn't think he remembered anything.
But perhaps some part of him does cling to something of the past, reflexively. Waver ducks his head, ears down, pupils suddenly gone wide. Something kicks off his fight-or-flight instincts, but he refuses to listen to stupid animal urges right now. This is ridiculous. ]
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... You're acting strangely. [ It's pointless to say so and he's expecting another combative, avoidant response. ] Do you want to come in for a bit?
[ Maybe they could just settle things, have a normal conversation. Berserker was coming home to sleep for a bit; his habit of running himself to the point of exhaustion is catching up to him. Now that he has two Bonds, that's two people he doesn't want to inflict his nightmarish dreams on.
Plus... ]
There's something I want to tell you, too. [ A beat. ] It's a good thing.
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In the end, he doesn't answer. He stands there, immediately taking the change in subject instead. ]
...a good thing?
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No. Push forward. He starts to turn towards where the door of his apartment is, looking back over his shoulder. ]
Yes...A good thing.
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--and he is genuinely curious. ]
So? Are you going to tell me or what?
[ Waver prompts, a little snappishly. Berserker and Diarmuid live on the first floor, the path a familiar one, making it easy to give into muscle memory. Waver still thinks of it a little bit as home. ]
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[ It's probably not important to Waver, but it's important to Berserker. It's a significant step forward for him. There's also the other Bond he's taken on, but...maybe later. ]
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[ Waver stops inside the apartment. He doesn't try to stay outside or run, doesn't feel too nervous even, now that they're inside. It's familiar, still smells like him and like Diarmuid, like something that's his even if he doesn't live here anymore.
Waver looks up at Berserker, waiting by the door without taking off his shoes yet or setting down his things. This doesn't seem like the sort of thing to interrupt, though he doesn't really understand. ]
What do you mean?
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[ Berserker's been cagey about his origins and for good reason. It's dangerous for Caster if he's too open about it, plus it's a sore spot for himself. ]
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...no.
[ He shakes his head, truthfully. Berserker told him his name, but Waver has had no way to research it, and he'd seemed unhappy to talk more about it, so he hasn't pressed. He doesn't really know much about Berserker's origins or his life before becoming a Heroic Spirit-- or even after. He just knows Berserker here. What he was before then, Berserker had made it seem like he didn't want to bring it up and it didn't matter, so Waver hasn't pushed.
Now, he listens. The skittishness fades with the help of the familiar environment and distracting conversation. He steps closer, moving toward the sofa to set his things down on it and the coffee table for now. ]
What's an Alter Servant?
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[ It's difficult to talk about himself and his circumstances. He trusts Waver, though, so it's okay. Being vulnerable is still difficult. ]
I'm beginning to grow past the corruption and Medb's influence. [ Yes, she gets name dropped because fuck her. ] This is why I wanted to give up my identity as a Servant now...
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