Too Bad, So Sad

The offices of the M'hael, Amyrlin Seat, Master of Arms, Keeper and the MoNSTers
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Matty
"The Path of Daggers"
Posts: 964
Joined: December 16th, 2015, 8:19 pm
PC: Murdock Mather, Keeper of the Archives
SC: Nathaniel Carridus, Asha'man (Blue)
TC: Maever Donovan, Asha'man (Yellow)
Location: Plain of Lances, UK

Too Bad, So Sad

Post by Matty » September 30th, 2016, 1:37 pm

Murdock Mather Browns were prone to rather accurate observations about their lack of interest in anything outside of their research, a habit of being a little messier than usual, and being extraordinarily scatterbrained until - in a dramatic twist - it turned out they were paying attention the entire time!

Murdock rolled his eyes at such things. He was not messy or disorganised. He paid attention to what was going on around him, he simply didn't care much of the time. He took in all the information he needed, nothing more. But on this dark evening, with the rain battering against the side of the Grey Tower and nobody else around, Murdock was doing some research of his own. Personal research. It wasn't his Rending, he wasn't foolish enough to study that at his desk of all places. This was something far more personal, much closer to his heart than making what was nice and fixed, permanently broken.

He was no stranger to stories, and the tales of the Snakes and Foxes were not lost on him. Legends with barely a grain of truth in a myriad of lies, intentional or simply uninformed, were piecemeal and unassuming enough that people did not tend to pay attention to them.

But Murdock did. He was piecing it together, he was sure of it. This world of strange, unnatural shapes, where the laws of physics and human morality were both skewered in unknown and unpleasant ways, it was accessible. it was somewhere he could physically go, and if he did it correctly he could bring Giselle back from the dead.

It was a farfetched dream, fuelled by desperation and a loneliness his missing daughters had helped to keep at bay. It kept him up late at night, distracted him from thoughts of Fiona, and gave him something to occupy his thoughts when he was in these ridiculous meetings he had no real interest in. The shape of the Grey Tower and the people within it held little sway over Murdock and if he couldn't turn their insides to paste, he didn't want to know. This new M'Hael was going to leave him to his own devices just as much as the last two had, so Murdock wasn't even bothered about the change of leadership. It was what it was, and Murdock had more important matters to tend to.

He was getting closer. Murdock had books piled on his desk, half a dozen open on certain pages with notes sticking out of others. He thumbed through one, shifted to another, checked it against a third, and returned to the first. Research was an intricate dance and one Murdock did not necessarily enjoy. He was a Brown because he specialised in the pursuit of very specific knowledge, not because he wanted to waste hours of his life reading just to check on one ridiculous detail and whether it held any accuracy or not. But for Giselle he would do anything.

The tall Keeper leaned in close to his literature as he turned the pages to check a comment from earlier in the book, the light from the soft orbs he had created overhead almost making him forget it was late, and that he ought to turn in to bed soon. Not to be deterred, he continued his reading, though as he turned the page and came across a note he hadn't written, the Brown paused and squinted. His paper was white. This one was edged in black.

The Black Ajah knew what he was up to.

Murdock took it up and unfurled it, noting the way it had been folded which told him this needed to be destroyed afterwards. The note itself unfolded to reveal one single word, a word which would put a halt to all of his hard work:

NO.

He was not a man to partake in displays of spurious emotion. He was an Asha'man, and he was more composed than that. But as he sat staring at this note, the man felt the beginnings of a scream building in his chest and threatening to burst straight through his ribcage if he didn't open his mouth and let them out. But all he could manage was a soft whimper, and the screams translated into tears instead. The buildup emptied the space in his heart he had been trying to fill; a single word managed to take apart months of diligent work.
Image
------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------

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