action with Rider, New Year's Eve
There were worse ways that Waver could waste his New Year's Eve than in a small house in Fuyuki City, watching whatever ridiculous military program Rider felt was interesting that night. He wasn't really one for parties or large crowds, and he was perfectly content to let the old year pass into the new sitting next to his Servant with a book in his lap, balancing a cup of tea on his knee. At least the tea ought to help him stay up until midnight, because he at least ought to manage until then.
He was focused less on the text in front of him and more the idea of another year gone-- he hadn't expected to be celebrating (in a manner of speaking) the New Year in Japan, or with the Heroic Spirit that he had summoned. When he'd left England, he'd expected a quick and decisive victory and a triumphant return, finally with proof of his own worth. The Grail War really hadn't been turning out anything like he'd expected, and Rider wasn't anything like he expected, and... he was okay with that. For the most part. Even if the war had turned out to be a lot more terrifying and dangerous than he had thought it would be, when he was next to Rider, none of it seemed quite as bad anymore.
He leaned a little against Rider's arm.
It was ten minutes to midnight.
There were things that people did on New Year's, he supposed, to try to bring in good luck for the next. Dropping silver on your doorstep, opening all the doors at midnight, Auld Lang Syne, a kiss--
But superstitions were hardly anything that mattered, and nothing that he should be wasting much time thinking about, of course. There was nothing at all to them. They couldn't bring good luck anymore than Waver could by trying to catch it out of thin air-- even if he did need it-- so it would be silly of him to observe them. He wouldn't know where to find silver in the house, anyway, and opening all the doors would just make them catch a chill, and he really wasn't fond of singing in front of audiences.
But there really wasn't much he could say against the last one.
He was focused less on the text in front of him and more the idea of another year gone-- he hadn't expected to be celebrating (in a manner of speaking) the New Year in Japan, or with the Heroic Spirit that he had summoned. When he'd left England, he'd expected a quick and decisive victory and a triumphant return, finally with proof of his own worth. The Grail War really hadn't been turning out anything like he'd expected, and Rider wasn't anything like he expected, and... he was okay with that. For the most part. Even if the war had turned out to be a lot more terrifying and dangerous than he had thought it would be, when he was next to Rider, none of it seemed quite as bad anymore.
He leaned a little against Rider's arm.
It was ten minutes to midnight.
There were things that people did on New Year's, he supposed, to try to bring in good luck for the next. Dropping silver on your doorstep, opening all the doors at midnight, Auld Lang Syne, a kiss--
But superstitions were hardly anything that mattered, and nothing that he should be wasting much time thinking about, of course. There was nothing at all to them. They couldn't bring good luck anymore than Waver could by trying to catch it out of thin air-- even if he did need it-- so it would be silly of him to observe them. He wouldn't know where to find silver in the house, anyway, and opening all the doors would just make them catch a chill, and he really wasn't fond of singing in front of audiences.
But there really wasn't much he could say against the last one.