Doppleganger (Matty)

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Doppleganger (Matty)

Post by Sunny » August 14th, 2016, 6:53 pm

Giselle Fiona
Outside lessons, being a novice wasn’t all that different from being a Drin. Fiona did chores, ran errands, hopped when Aes Sedai said toad...the list went on. Differences included not knowing how many years she might spend wearing the drab shapeless white gowns she had been given, not being allowed to choose her own course of study -Light, but history was boring- and being constantly surrounded by women whose sole purpose in life seemed to be political advancement. Also incredibly boring.

Once the women in her corridor learned about her background the pandering had begun, and Light, but that was a special hell of its own. Their games had begun almost immediately, and she had had to resist the urge to punch them all in the teeth. What was it about dresses that turned women into vultures? She missed Avram’s dry humor, conversations with Muireen, laughing hysterically with Paks after light’s out...

She had wanted to be able to channel. Against all odds, it turned out she could...and now she wanted to be back in the Yards. Any time it all got to be too much, the irony of her situation would creep up on her and she would begin to laugh. Sooner or later she would become Aes Sedai or they would kick her out. Either way, she would not be there forever, and she could move on to better things.

That didn’t mean she spurned any possible chance to get away from the scheming. Thanks to her training she could run faster and further even than much taller novices, and thus she frequently got sent on errands to all parts of the Tower. On one particular day in the fall, she was sent from the Garden to the Library with a stack of books for an Indigo who was studying there. She delivered them in record time and turned to go, but abruptly a Brown with the jowls and body of a walrus grabbed her shoulderand spun her about.

“You, girl,” the woman said. “I need a message taken to the Keeper of Archives.” She didn’t wait for acknowledgement, but twisted to her desk, jotting a message that seemed to be five times longer than it needed to be on a piece of parchment, her other hand still firmly wrapped around Fiona’s shoulder. Finally the Brown turned back and jammed the paper into the novice’s hand and released her. “Be quick about it, I haven’t all day. He’s in his office, or should be. Tell him I’m waiting for a response.”

Fiona curtsied, resisting the urge to rub at her shoulder, and fled. Climbing stairs took effort, especially nineteen floors of them, but eventually she reached the top. There was a mirror on the wall -no doubt because even Aes Sedai would be winded by that ridiculous climb and would want to be fresh when speaking to their leader- and Fiona took advantage to straighten her curls before walking into the Keepers’ office.

The only person there was a gangly man with heavy brows, frowning at something on the desk he sat at. She had never actually see the Keeper, but there was really only one person the man could be. He didn’t seem to notice her, and she looked about uncertainly for a moment before finally clearing her throat and speaking. “Asha’man Murdock? I was given a message for you.”
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

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Matty
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Re: Doppleganger (Matty)

Post by Matty » August 16th, 2016, 9:17 pm

Murdock Mather There was something to be said about sitting and working at a desk all day.

It was bloody boring.

Murdock wasn't adverse to the work, what with his bad leg and his personal studies requiring a lot of reading, but that was different. Arranging files, sorting out meetings, funnelling information to the correct people whilst keeping Jaryd appeased, it was all more work than one might first think. The Keeper was not the most patient of men and he had to deal with enough visitors to keep his grumbliness at a medium level, but he was organised, and he knew how to do his job. Better than Jaryd had? Murdock didn't want to presume, but...

of course the first thing Murdock did was observe the processes that went into the role, and changed them all. The last thing he needed was Jaryd being able to keep tabs on what he was doing, and find some sort of loophole in the information he received because he was able to access his old systems. it was a lot of work in the beginning but now it was done, and it was all Murdock's. Jaryd hadn't shown any particular interest and the Brown was happy to keep it that way, but the stakes were high. Carelessness would get him executed or worse, gentled.

Hah. He had an idea of how that felt from Emmond. Murdock observed the bundle that was the former Asha'man in his head, a wry smirk crossing his lips even as he was signing missives. If Elia thought she was going to use the man as a weapon against him, she had another thing coming. He was actually looking forward to discovering what the fool girl had in store for him and Emmond both, though he had the feeling that she was going to do what all bonded pairs seemed to be doing, and remove her clothes in his vicinity for some heavy petting. Murdock didn't judge too much, he'd been bonded to his wife, but he couldn't help but wonder if a man ought to bond someone who wasn't going to ride him and the emotions they experienced through the bond at every opportunity.

There was someone here to interrupt him in his work as there usually was. Murdock lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at the Novice before him. He blinked a few times, wondering if someone - probably Elia - was playing a trick on him. Giselle's blonde hair, her pleasing figure, the way she looked at him expectantly, it was all there. Embodied in this Novice. Did the Great Lord give me my wish? he wondered, openly staring at the Novice and ignoring whatever message she had in her hand. Has he rewarded me with my wife in a new body? It made no sense, but then who was he to second guess the limits of the Great Lord's power? No, Murdock was not questioning things far more powerful than he.

She wasn't quite Giselle though. The way she stood, the tone of her voice, it wasn't quite right. It was almost as if someone had seen Giselle and been asked to remake her, and the Keeper somehow managed to remind himself that expecting her to be Giselle could well end in disappointment.

Still, he had to know, didn't he?

"A- a message, you say?" Murdock held a hand out for the note, and he opened it without really reading the contents. It took but a second for the man to scrawl down a response, crossing out the words written by Leslia and telling her he would let her know when he had the reports she so desired, and that letters would not make him move any quicker. He folded it back up and slapped it into the Novice's hand, "deliver this back to Leslia Sedai, then bring me some toffee cake from the kitchens. And two glasses of milk. I would ask some questions of you, Novice....?"

"Fiona Trakand, sir."

"Sure. Now move along." Murdock shooed the girl away, but all he did when she left was sit staring at the way out. Giselle loved toffee cake, and she would always enjoy it with a glass of milk. Would she be the same now? It was a silly thing to hold on to, a strange thing to obsess over, but Murdock simply couldn't help it. Any signs of his wife, anything to tell him she was nearby and thinking of him, he needed. He couldn't see her when he channelled any more. She stopped talking to him when he joined the Black Ajah, only shaking her head with disappointment before disappearing altogether. He needed this like a man dying of thirst needed a glass of burning fire, but he needed the sensation. Murdock needed Giselle. This Novice could well be the key.
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------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------

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Re: Doppleganger (Matty)

Post by Sunny » August 19th, 2016, 11:15 pm

Fiona had once captured a bug in the fields outside her home in Andor. It had been long and green, with thin limbs and long antennae. Its back had looked a bit like coat tails, and when it rubbed its legs together it made a strange kind of music. A hop-a-bug, Synthia had called it, and told her to let it go. As soon as she had taken the lid off the jar the insect had pushed up with its back legs and simply disappeared.

Murdock reminded the young novice of a hop-a-bug as he bent over his desk to write his response to Leslia. The thought amused her so much that when he abruptly turned to hand her the letter she had to work hard to school her face back to calm.

Then the Brown asked her for cake and milk and her name in that order. Her consternation at his desire to ask her questions was swallowed by another, more pressing concern: Not those bloody stairs again! As she fled down the hall, however, the concern came back. What would the Keeper of the Archives have to ask a novice about? He had indicated interest before getting her name; had he known already and asked as a ruse, or …. What?

Confused thoughts tumbled through her mind as she made her way first to the Library, where Leslia Sedai gave her an irritated speech about men who did not meet deadlines, and then to the kitchens, where the Mistress of the Kitchens gave her a lecture about how dangerous running next to cooking stations could be.

She collected the toffee cakes and eating utensils first, then went to the coldroom to get the milk. When she came out, a man in a gardener’s rough clohes approached her with a clay pot in his hand. “Ah, there you are! I heard you were going to the Keeper. Aikaterine Sedai told me he has a strange...plant….that requires a larger pot. Could you take this to him?” Fiona looked at the pot, then glanced at the tray in her hand, and with a sigh, she nodded.

Balancing the tray and carrying the pot slowed her considerably, but at least she wasn’t panting when she finally arrived at the Keeper’s office. She set the pot on his desk, then went about setting out the rest of what he had asked for. Then she curtsied. “I was told that you had a plant that would need that,” she said in an explanatory tone.

Then she looked at him a little closer, uncertainty creeping into her voice. “What did you want to ask me about?”
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
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Re: Doppleganger (Matty)

Post by Matty » August 21st, 2016, 9:01 pm

Once Fiona had taken herself away, Murdock did absolutely zero work. He leaned back in his chair, hands folded together, staring at the door and waiting for her impatiently to return. A girl who pattered up the stairs with a message for the Amyrlin delivered it hastily, casting an uncertain look over her shoulder at Murdock before she left, but he didn’t really notice her. Her hair was too red.

When Fiona returned he was still seated in this same position, though he moved as if awoken from a trance when she set down the toffee cake and milk, and… a plant pot? He looked at the girl with a puzzled expression, but he supposed that somewhere along the line it had something to do with that tardy wench, Katrie. The woman would not mind her own business and insisted on taking care of Bradley as much as he did as if they were parents of a prickly child.

“Thank you,” he said to Fiona. “Please, help yourself to cake and milk, and take a seat.” His voice was uncharacteristically warm, and the edges of his mouth pulled upwards in what he supposed could be interpreted as a smile. It seemed like a long time since a genuine smile hit his face. It could easily be confused with the smile he wore when Elia didn’t get her way, or when he discovered the relationship between Fire weaves and boiling certain body parts, but those didn’t quite meet the eyes as his current smile did.

He took Bradley’s pot and rather than lift him from his old pot into a new one, he simply set the pot within the other pot to deal with at a later date. His eyes couldn’t seem to tear themselves away from Giselle- ahh, Fiona, as he observed the way she reacted to being given cake and milk.

It wasn’t good enough. It was never going to be enough for Murdock. These shadows of his former life were going to haunt him constantly, and never quite give him what he wanted. Like drinking from a mug with holes in the bottom, or trying to stomach a flavourless cake, it just wasn’t the same as the real thing.

He didn’t answer her question at first. What did he want to ask her about? Now she was there before him, Murdock found he didn’t know what to say to her. Not knowing if she was Giselle in some form was almost better than finding out that she wasn’t, and being disappointed. It stilled his tongue and made him almost shy, a ridiculous thing to be in front of his wife. She is not your wife!

Are you so sure about that?

Oh lovely, the voice in my head is back. What do you want?

I’m just back because you’ve jumped aboard the crazy boat again. This is a Novice you think is actually your dead wife, reincarnated.

Murdock changed the subject by prodding at Bradley with a finger. The prick was sharp and he jolted in his seat, but it was just what he needed to bring himself to the here and now. “Ah yes, you brought cake and milk, excellent. I hope you like them.” He ate his own slice as if it was made of wood and he simply wanted to get it over and done with, and Murdock didn’t taste a single bit of it. The milk was more pleasant but only because it was cold. The shiver it sent down his spine was life affirming.

“Fiona, I don’t speak with the Novices much. I’m quite out of touch in my old age.” He gave a wry chuckle. “Please, tell me about yourself. I am a Brown at heart, and a Brown likes to learn above all else. Let me learn about the Novice, Fiona Trakand.” Let me hear you, Giselle.
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------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------

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Re: Doppleganger (Matty)

Post by Sunny » August 24th, 2016, 7:25 am

Fiona pushed her hair behind her shoulders -it was strange not having to bind it up anymore; the long golden curls hung nearly to her waist now- and reached for the cake. The first bite told her all she needed to know about the difference in quality in the food the learning ranks received versus that served to the higher-ups. Her eyes lit up, and she ate happily, watching Murdock brood about. The Keeper, Fiona decided as she sipped at her milk, was an odd man.

When he finally looked at her, her hand froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. She slowly lowered it back to her plate and considered what he asked. Confusion still remained on the surface, but below that, curiosity and concern. For wanting cake, he had not seemed particularly interested in his. Was he ill? She dragged her thoughts back to his request.

She started at the beginning, describing her family. “I am thirteenth in line for the Lion Throne,” she told him, her lips twisting in annoyance. “I couldn’t forget that fact if I tried; everyone from my mother to my servants drove the potential responsibility home at every opportunity.” She glossed over most of her childhood details, but did explain about her love of archery, and then moved on to describe discovering her unwanted and unexpected engagement. “I have no desire to marry some snotty nobleman I’ve never met before,” she commented.

Then she described how she had come to the Grey Tower, her dour traveling companion, and the odd luck that seemed to follow her wherever she went. “I won a horse,” she told the Keeper cheerfully, “wearing only my shift. The fellow who owned it said if I won at a game of dice, I could have it, and I won. Later on, once I was here, I just….I get this feeling in my head, and I know that if I do whatever crazy thing my impulse says to do, something good will come of it.” She had not mentioned her luck to any other, and she abruptly felt distinctly uncomfortable; she quickly changed the topic to something safer.

“When I first got here Mirin Sedai said I couldn’t channel,” she told him. “I trained in the Warder Yards for two years, and then after I had already passed the Survival Test she said there had been a mistake, and put me in white.” Outrage tinged her voice despite her best efforts. She had wasted two years because of an oversight? “How does that even happen, Asha’man Murdock?” she asked. It was a rhetorical question; how could he possibly know the answer to that?

She took another bite of cake, and shifted topics. “I have a deft hand with a needle, and I got in trouble as a Drin for tailoring my clothes. For instance,” she sized him up thoughtfully. “Your clothes are made well, but they could fit better in the shoulders, and a little work with a needle would really help with….” She stood and reached for him as she had when teaching Ravak archery what felt like a lifetime before, showing him with her hands what she meant with her words as she described the way he should alter his coat.

Abruptly she realized what she was doing, and to whom, and fell back in her seat, flushing hot. “I’m sorry Asha’man, I did not mean to impose,” she said in a faint voice, then buried her face in her milk.
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

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Matty
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Re: Doppleganger (Matty)

Post by Matty » August 24th, 2016, 10:47 am

Murdock didn't give his cake any consideration whatsoever. He only ever ate it because Giselle enjoyed it so, and his eating it made her happy too. He did sip at the milk though, finding a dryness that no liquid could quench. He tried not to stare at Fiona but, well, he ended up doing so anyway and he was unapologetic about it. Did she like toffee cake as much as Giselle? It was hard to say. This was good cake he supposed, but not something a Novice would be used to. Murdock's thoughts wandered, as he did his eyes, trailing along her flowing hair and the curves highlighted by her dress.

To be honest the man did not care for Fiona's childhood. He wanted to know what she was as a person and her describing her upbringing told him much. Her distaste for marriage mirrored Giselle's initial refusal of him, when he had declared his love to her all those years ago. Oh, how the times changed! Love came, and was snatched away suddenly. He should have been thankful for the years they had together but Murdock only had sharp words for the cruelty of the Creator nowadays.

The discovery of her ability to channel was a surprise to Murdock, who had figured that those who came to the Tower to train as Warders were tested beforehand. But apparently not. It wasn't something Murdock had ever really thought on because why would he? But at her rhetorical question he couldn't help himself from answering, "they should have tested you prior to your training. But if you did not spark, then there wasn't a risk of you touching the source without training." He could understand her frustration at everything she knew suddenly taking a turn and landing on its head, but one had to roll with these figurative punches. Not that Murdock was the best example of this in action. He didn't know why Mirin would tell a girl she couldn't channel, then suddenly she could, but he didn't question the way women worked. He especially didn't question an overly emotional, rampaging Mirin who thought with her heart instead of her head.

He met Fiona's eyes as she regarded his attire, and the smile on his face widened at her assertion. Oh, he thought with relish, this feels familiar. Not to the point where he thought that this was genuinely Giselle, but it was clear the girl was opinionated and liked to have her way. Something Murdock could get behind, as a good Far Madding man should. As cranky as he might seem, when it came to affairs of the heart he was a hardcore romantic... and passive to boot. There was no greater pleasure for him than bending to Giselle's whims, and the sensation reared its head for the first time in a number of years as Fiona judged his clothing. It was a very good job Fiona couldn't see lower than his belt.

He didn't even care that she had overstepped her boundaries, something any other Asha'man might have objected to. She'd been close enough that he could smell her hair, and it wasn't the same, but the way she prodded his clothes and brought them into submission, that was what made Murdock happy. He watched as Fiona tried to crawl into her glass of milk, and his tone was gentle when he eventually spoke. "It was no imposition at all. If you think my clothes ought to fit better then I will take your advice and see about getting them altered."

He made a small, pleased noise as he drank his milk. Oh, Fiona! Dear little Fiona, so sure of what she knew. To pick that mind, to compare it with Giselle's... the Keeper wanted her to adjust his coat again, or to simply remove it with her deft fingers running along his chest, close enough that he could see every blemish and imperfection on her skin. For the first time, he wished for Elia's ability to make a person forget. What he would do for a night with Fiona, just to see if their bodies fitted together the right way. Then afterwards, if she was disagreeable, they could remove the memories. Sorted. But Murdock was not going to take that risk. Not to mention, he wasn't the sort of man to woo a trainee anyway. This is different, Murdock told himself as he schooled his gaze to something less intense. He couldn't help it, but he did his very best.

If this were to happen it would be Fiona's choice, when she was a woman grown. In the meantime, he needed to learn more, and Giselle's traits could always be instilled into her and shaped. Yes. Murdock liked this idea. For the first time in a long time the man felt more relaxed, like he could handle whatever the Creator decided to throw at him next. Great Lord, any sign of what to do to make this work would be appreciated. "Fiona, do go on. How are you finding your training so far? And are you familiar with the Guardian ter'angreal in Far Madding?"
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------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------

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Re: Doppleganger (Matty)

Post by Sunny » September 1st, 2016, 8:57 pm

Blue eyes stared over the rim of her cup, utterly perplexed by Murdock’s words. He will...take my advice? She knew she could sew, but it was one thing to know it, and another to have the Keeper of the Archives agree to do as she suggested. Why hadn’t a servant done it already?

Without thinking twice, she set her cup aside and blurted out “If you would like, I can do it, Murdock….Asha’man.” The title was added belatedly, as she remembered who she spoke to. How in the Light did I manage to forget? He made a pleased sound, dark eyes studying her. “I mean, you’ve already said you would trust my advice, so I may as well make good on it.” She smiled at him in total delight and set aside her consternation for once and all. Perhaps the tall man was simply uncomfortable in social settings; being an Asha’man surely did not guarantee a person would make friends easily, after all.

Perhaps I could help with that…. The small woman contemplated that thought as she picked sticky pecans from her plate and stuck them in her mouth. Then she sucked her fingers clean of toffee as her odd companion spoke again. “My training?” She considered the question, her smile fading a little. “I suppose it is neither terrible nor fantastic. The Accepted I am working with assures me that my perspective will change the first time I touch saidar. She said it can take months...which I believe. This whole business of pretending to be a flower seems complicated.” She popped another small bites of cake in her mouth.

He asked about the Accepted and the progress she had made. While talking about that, she mentioned how much she disliked her roommate Jaraene and then spoke about the true friends she had found in the Tower. Although Murdock said little enough, the questions he did ask encouraged her to keep speaking. She found herself telling him anything he wanted to know and more, just to watch his face changing. He smiled rarely even for an Asha’man, she realized. Why?

Eventually he turned the conversation back to the other question he had asked long before, his gaze sharpening ever so slightly. For a moment uneasiness returned, but she pushed it away. Stop being foolish! She could swear she heard the dice in her head give a sulky little clink at the silent admonishment.

“I didn’t know there was a ter’angreal in Far Madding,” she admitted, shaking her head. She reached up to straighten her hair automatically, small fingers pulling through golden curls and ensuring they lay straight. She peered up at him curiously. “Don’t the people of that city dislike channelers?” She thought she remembered Synthia saying something of the sort, but at the time she had been far more interested in going outside than listening to her governess’s stories. “What does it do?”

“The Guardian is used to prevent use of the One Power within the city,” the Brown explained. He went on to describe what the object looked like and how it worked. It kept the peace in Far Madding, he explained, alongside other rules for travelers and citizens alike. It allowed the city to set its own laws and put all on equal footing- or so they claimed.

“That is incredible...and frightening,” she commented after he told her about its ability to locate exactly where a channeler had been. She sat at ease in her chair now, one leg crossed over the other and her fingers idly playing with her skirt. “I am shocked that the- the Shadow, or the Children of the Light have not somehow annexed Far Madding to use the device for their own purposes.” At the mention of the Children her mind drifted a little, focused on the letter to Zeen she had found before the Seanchan attacked. How strange it must have been to grow up surrounded by hatred, only to find himself doing the very thing his entire nation loathed.

Her curiosity finally got the better of her. “Why did you ask me about the Guardian?” She asked. “Are you going to Far Madding? I don’t know what I could do to help you, but...it seems an interesting place."
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

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