Somewhat Damaged (Attn: Matty)

[Craig]

Elia

The smile that materialised on Elia's face was tender. Friend. It didn't matter how much of Murdock's response was because of the One Power and how much was her own natural charisma. Friend. A giddiness washed through her just thinking about it.

Elia smoothed out her skirts needlessly, opting just to stand opposite the Dedicated instead of imposing herself on his bed again. That had been a bit forward. "Tea would be nice," she managed. Had it been any other man, she may have taking his latter comment and ran away with it. A genuine friend. That was far more valuable than another hopeless pursuit. Plus, there was Danos. That had been the motivation in the first place. Peace, you need to be more careful.

"Tea would be nice," she repeated, trying to clarify her thoughts. "I sometimes take walks through the Gardens, if that something you would be amenable too. Or," she turned to look at the medical texts again, "we could study together." Although if you're a bore, that may not be a good idea... "I know some things are different between men and women, but the human body..." She shrugged. Anything would be better than nothing. Even just studying with company would be better than things were now.

Elia rubbed at her arms again. "Are you working on anything at the moment? Maybe we could collaborate?" She knew that some ter'angreal required the use of both halves of the One Power. Could Murdock be a hand in that endeavour? Would linking be enough? Suddenly she had a lot of questions, and a lot of plans...

[Chris]

Murdock was fine with tea, he was fine with walks, and he was also fine with studying together. With Elia he was quite agreeable to these things, in spite of his usual tendency towards not drinking tea, or walking thanks to his leg, or... studying with other people. Elia was different though, he could trust her. A small smile crossed his face and he gestured to his books. “Channelling might be different but when it comes to the human body, there’s lots of similarities I’m coming to find. My time Healing, and re... reading, has told me a lot about it.”

But Elia wanted to know what he was working on, and when she suggested they collaborate, the Dedicated figured – what a splendid idea! He could trust Elia, she’d said as much. Besides, he hadn’t shared his Rending with anyone, it would be interesting to show her it. And there was only one way to do that.

A grin spread across his face, almost childish glee as he hobbled to his feet and grabbed at his stick. “There is something I’ve been working on,” he said, to echo her words. “Would you like to see?” Of course she did, judging by the smile and nod and the “yes” she gave. Excellent. Murdock gestured for her to sit on his bed, and he drew up his chair from the desk to sit facing her. “I’ve been practicing a few weaves,” he said, “trying to work out how to make them more effective. I’ve not shown anyone before, they’re quite secret. You’ll be the first person to see them because, well, I can trust you.” His grin broadened a little, but it never met his dark brown eyes. He was already looking to his side, imagining Giselle was there so he could seize Saidin. The thing was, he never had to actually see Giselle, he only had to be thinking about her, but it was a long time since he’d channelled without ever seeing the blonde woman. Now she was sitting on the end of his bed, and strangely enough she was giving him an odd look.

“Don’t,” was her wordless look.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he muttered at her, before turning back to Elia. He took her hand ever so gently, holding the smaller limb in both of his larger ones. His hands trembled slightly, but in the void he was calm. “Let me show you what I can do,” he said softly. His voice was low, and his eyes were downcast now as a look of concentration crossed his face. This was delicate business and he wanted to get it right. He wanted to show Elia what he could do, because she wanted to know and he was sure she would enjoy it.

He used Spirit predominantly, but there was a fair amount of Fire and Air as well. Murdock channelled with an intricacy Elia couldn’t see, but as he settled the weave into her arm he knew it was going to work. “Now normally I try to boil the blood,” he said conversationally as he worked, “but that I can’t restrict to one portion of the body. Yet. Instead I’ve been working on the skin, much more localised you see. I can burn the inner layers of the skin, almost like sunburn on your inside. Can you feel it?” he asked, as the Accepted began to squirm. He clenched down on her hand as she tried to pull away, “I said, can you feel it Elia? The pain? The burning? That’s what I’m working on, don’t you like it?” He grinned even wider now and the difference between his smile and his cold eyes only grew further. “Can you imagine how it would feel if I broke your bones as well? The burning and the breaking together? It might be too much though. The fingers on their own, that could work.”

Murdock gripped her fingers now, pulling the smallest one back experimentally. “I’m so glad we could work on this together.”

[Craig]

OOC: Fair warning, this goes dark. You think Matty's post was creepy? I think this goes further.

Elia

The beautiful Accepted was pleased to see that Murdock was smiling, and quite a bit more animated that he had been seconds before. She was glad that there was a core of tenderness somewhere between the Dedicated's surface. And I brought it out. Again, it didn't matter if that was charisma or Compulsion, so long as it was genuine. And he did seem genuinely enthusiastic, for the first time.

Murdock pushed himself up off the bed, grabbing his cane with a grin. "There is something I've been working on. Would you like to see?"

A similar grin crossed Elia's face. "Yes!" she said, a little shriller than she had intended. A buzz of nervous energy filled her, as she felt more alive than she had in weeks. She'd been desperately missing out on actual human contact outside of classes, and now Murdock was sharing a secret! Or at least some plan or project. Maybe Murdock would be interested in her creations. The ter'angreal that connected with Tel'aran'rhiod, perhaps. Elia was fully aware that it was possible to go into someone else's dream. Maybe the two trainees could help patients with psychological problems, not just physical ailments. She could hear the rush of blood pumping throughout her veins, and let saidar go in an attempt to regain control over herself. Peace, she was acting all silly over, well, she didn't know what yet.

Murdock got the red-haired Shienaran to sit on the bed, as he pulled up a chair to face opposite her. "i've been practicing a few weaves, trying to work out how to make them more effective." With the extra years and weathered face, he seemed to exude the confidence of a mentor, and Elia felt like she was back in a classroom for a moment. But just for a moment. "I've not shown anyone before, they're quite secret." Elia's eyes flashed in fear for a moment. He can't know. He can't! Then a moment later her nerves settled. No, he can't. Murdock didn't notice anything; his deep brown eyes seemed transfixed on the middle distance, focusing on whatever he was about to show her. "You'll be the first person to see them because, well, I can trust you."

That nervous energy surged through her again, both of their grins expanding. She had earned the trust of, what, maybe two or three people since coming to the Grey Tower, and that included her brother. She felt giddy to the point of laughter, giddy enough to throw her arms around him and say something incredibly silly and heartfelt. Mentally, she gave herself a shake. "Peace, you have your head in the clouds, girl." That was her mother's voice, the matriarch of the Darrow family. When Mother spoke, you obeyed.

So she did.

Elia focused on Murdock, and on the situation. Secret weaves. She knew a secret weave, of course. A forbidden weave, more specifically. There were others, some she was aware of, others she wasn't. "All dangerous." That was the voice of some Accepted or Aes Sedai, extolling what all channellers needed to know; some weaves were too destructive to be used. Even the Shadow foresworn Balefire, although that was the most egregious weave anyone knew.

It can't be any of that, she told herself. Someone would have caught a Dedicating channelling forbidden weaves by now. Plus, he didn't seem to have the same sense of self that Elia did. If he had, the ever-present scowl wouldn't have been his defining feature.

Murdock muttered something, his dark gaze redirected back towards the Accepted. She still wore a grin, and was still curious in spite of her slight fears. Then he surprised her, in a good way, by taking up one of her hands oh so carefully. He seemed nervous, so she gave a comforting squeeze to his hand. It practically enveloped hers.

There was a lull, as Murdock looked down at her arm. She tilted her head, wondering what it was that he could see and she could not. Not that it would make any difference, what with saidar and saidin being so differ-

An unpleasant tingling made its way through her arm suddenly. Her mind expected a sensation of cold, like ice water racing over her limb, but it was heat she felt. What type of Healing is this? She didn't know the first thing about how men Healed. Did they use Fire?

The tingling became a pricking feeling, just before the surface of her skin. It felt hot. Not warm, but actually hot, like she was resting her arm too close to a set of candles. Murdock's lips parted, and she heard the beginning of his speech. "Now normally I try to boil the blood-." Concern raced through her. "-but that I can't restrict to one portion of the body. Yet." The heat now felt like her arm was hovering alarmingly close to an open fireplace. She squirmed, trying to pull her arm back defensively, but Murdock's grip around her wrist was tight. She yanked back against him with her body, but there was little give from the Far Maddinger.

"Murdock, please! Please, Murdock, stop!" Her voice was shrill, but that was hardly a concern. The man's face seemed contorted like he was split length-wise, with his eyes dark and intense, his mouth grinning like a fool at festival. That was when the panic truly kicked in. She didn't scream, although the impulse was there. Even in the midst of the rising terror, she knew that her weaves were too freshly woven, and she risked discovery if she alerted anyone. But she fought against the Dedicated with tenacity. She placed her free hand flat on his chest, pushing back against him as she strained to get her wrist free. His hand was like an iron manacle, completely unyielding. He was completely unyielding, the frantic look seemed as disconnected from reality as her attempts to move him. Her arm was on fire. There were no flames, but she could feel it. Below the surface she felt her skin flaying away, her muscles were like molten jelly. All of the strength she used against him was in her shoulder and torso. The arm was a useless piece of scorched and smouldering meat. Tears ran unbidden down her face, her green eyes wide in sheer terror. Something compelled her not to scream, even as she screamed inside her head.

Beyond everything, and pain was her everything, Elia Darrow both heard and felt a snap. A snap of something that should not be snapped. The darkness that had already been swimming at the edges of her vision rushed in, threatening to consume everything. For a moment, she wanted to relent, to let the darkness take her. To let whatever was going to happen, happen, without her knowing about it. In the small patch of light that remained, a face was visible. It grinned ecstatically.

[Chris]

Compulsion is a strange creature. Murdock was still obligated to show Elia what he was researching, what he had learned. He trusted her, and they were friends now. But when she begged for him to stop, when she was tugging her hand away from him and doing her best to be freed, Murdock wasn’t under Compulsion. This was just Murdock, following through his previous orders, and having a jolly good time of it. He was so unexceptional in most respects, that being good at Healing and being a dab hand at Rending, it made him feel useful. It made him feel good. Never mind the interesting biological questions his abilities raised, Murdock liked to study something he could do that others could not. Battle weaves? No thank you. Illusions? Apparently not. But burning a girl from the inside out, yes, he could do that. He could break her bones in multiple ways and study the different pain thresholds. He could boil her blood and see how long it took for her body to overheat. Which organ would die first?

His grip was strong, and he didn’t plan on letting go for a long time. Elia was starting to slump, her eyes were going unfocussed. Was it the burning, the finger or both? I never even broke it... Fascinated, Murdock switched his weaves to pure Spirit, reading her with a Delve to see what the situation was. Oh, the burning arm was ever present and her finger ached. Her head was swimming, her body temperature was higher than it ought to be, and he could see the distress on her face. But now she knew what he was working on. She was aware of what he was capable of, now Murdock had shared it with her like good friends should. That’s how it worked, wasn’t it?

There was something wrong about this thought, but it didn’t occur to Murdock fully at the time. Instead, the Dedicated, being the good friend he was, opted to fix Elia up. He returned to weaving without explaining what he was doing, laying all five elements in her arm and restoring it to its former state. He had caused the injury, he could Heal it just fine, and a few seconds later only the memory remained, an echo of what Murdock was capable of. A physical memory for her, whereas all Murdock had was the mental reminder of how it felt when he Delved her. He had enjoyed the experience, pointedly not thinking about the pain on her face or the fear in her eyes. He ought to have thought about them and been reminded of his daughters, possibly done something to make her feel better – or not Rended her in the first place – but his desire to share what he had done overrode this natural empathetic instinct he was apparently lacking right now.

“That’s called Rending,” he informed the Accepted matter of factly, when the job was done. He let her go, and apparently she needed a moment to collect herself as she sat back on the bed. Murdock looked at her consideringly, folding his arms and tilting his head. His dark eyes took in her somewhat woozy countenance, judging that she was still capable of more. Her heavy breathing, his own excited breaths, and the subtle creaks of the wooden bedframe were the only sounds in the room right then, and between the pair of them was a lifetime of unspoken promises.

“There’s a lot that you can do with Rending. I suppose I should have done less of the burning and more of the breaking. Here, let me try again.” Murdock put a hand out as if expecting Elia to take it, because she did say she wanted to collaborate with him. He gave her a reassuring smile, “there’s no lasting effects, and whatever I do I can Heal afterwards. Aren’t you enjoying our learning together? I haven’t Rended a human that I haven’t killed in some time, this is really good practice for me.”

[Craig]

Elia

The darkness was replaced by an intense cold. Her body froze as if it was made of ice, and for a while she thought she was ice. It was not as overwhelming unpleasant as the heat, but she still wished for an end to it. The little part of her mind that was still cognisant wanted this to be over with, whatever outcome that entailed. I cannot bare this. She had regrets, but that did her little good in the world of frost. There was nothing she could do, but endure and pray it ended.

She moved through an Age before the icy cold abated. Foreign sensations returned to her. There was a feeling of softness beneath her... a mattress? There was sound, a deep voice echoing somewhere nearby. Light appeared, and a murky shape in black was in front of her. Where am I? Thought and memory eluded her even as her senses returned. She was on a bed, in her quarters. No, not my quarters. And there was a man, a Dedicated. He seemed pleased: he was smiling, holding a hand out. She began to move her own hand towards, her arm feeling weightless and as disconnected as her mind.

Then with a snap, reality asserted itself. Green eyes widened at Murdock's grinning countenance. Rending. She knew that term, but had no idea what it had meant- Light, what did you do? Murdock's expression changed, and Elia realised she had also given voice to her thoughts. "Light Murdock, what did you do?"

She stood abruptly, moving as quickly away from the Dedicated as her body allowed. She felt refreshed - he had Healed her, she knew that now - but how much strength would she need to regain before she was actually better. Her back bumped against the handle of the door, that lead back outside. Murdock had turned in his chair, his face now baring a look of confusion.

"You can't do this!" she exclaimed, "You can't just do that to a person!" The pretty Accepted shuddered, grasping at her arm, as if to ensure he had Healed it. "You can't just..." Something he had said tickled in her head. "You... you killed someone?" Behind her back, her fingers curled around the door's handle. She was scared once again, but somehow she resisted fleeing. "Are you..." The Shienaran could give words to her thoughts, her tongue feeling paralysed. Darkfriend. It was the only thing that made sense, wasn't it? Unlike Compulsion, Rending had no benefit to bring one who walked in the Light. Had she gotten herself involved with Darkfriends in the Tower?

[Chris]

"What did I do? It was Rending," Murdock informed Elia. He could trust her, he was happy to share his knowledge. "It's a form of corrupted Healing. No, not corrupted... different, but not. Almost like Saidar and Saidin, it's a whole different level of interaction with the human body. I burned your skin - there's numerous layers, when you burn in the sun it's only the top layer which is damaged. A tattoo is branded into all the layers. I worked from the bottom up." He watched the Accepted inquisitively. Why was she going for the door when she had asked him to share with her?

She was angry and upset, he realised. She didn't like what he'd done. But... she's wanted to know, and he'd shown her? Murdock's face fell, a look of concern crossing it now. "Elia, please," he began, but he didn't know what he was going to say to her. She said he could trust her, and now she was telling him off.

"You... you killed someone?" she asked. What a strong accusation that was! But Murdock went over what had just transpired in his head, and much to his surprise, he had indeed mentioned that he had killed before. Why did I admit that? He asked himself, puzzled. Why did I do any of this? Something was definitely not right with this scenario, and the Dedicated was struggling to work out what.

"You said I could trust you," he said slowly, his low voice hurt. "You said we were friends and that we could collaborate together. And now you've changed your mind?" Murdock slumped his shoulders, the Compulsion causing Elia's reaction to make him feel nothing short of neglected. He should have been more careful. He knew that Rending wasn't well known, and that people didn't like it. Trust. She'd said... she'd said... Light man, what is wrong with you? He rubbed his eyes, more confused than ever. Why had he been so reckless and shown her something so dangerous? He should have at least done it with a rat, or a bird, not an actual person. Even though it felt quite thrilling to manipulate the human body in such a way.

This was probably his fault for some reason. "You should leave," he said to Elia softly. "If you don't want to share what we've been learning together, then maybe it's best if we don't meet again. I'm sorry. I'd like it if you kept it between us, I shouldn't have shown you. I suppose I thought," he felt that internal struggle all the more keenly now, "I thought you were my friend. I guess not." He gestured for her to leave, and he picked up his chair to place it back under the desk. She could see herself out, and he would return to his studies. He could think about the burning, write down his findings before he forgot them all.

[Craig]

Elia

Murdock's description was only stomachable because he had demonstrated, quite effectively, exactly what Rending was. Yet Elia still shivered and quailed quite openly. Her face had gone a paler shade of white, the natural redness around her cheeks the only colour on her face.

"You said I could trust you." She shouldn't have cared for his tone, not after what had happened, what he had inflicted on her. But it was the delivery, and the word trust. He was hurt, offended even. Genuinely offended, like she had done something wrong. Trust. That rattled around in her mind. She had wanted him to trust her, had made it so. Saidar was gone, but the weaves were visible in her mind's eye. She had made him trust her. And that had...

Elia turned to face the door. She was warring with conflicting emotions, all negative, but firing off in different directions that she didn't know who to cry for, or if she could cry at all. Or if she should rage, and try to burn the man to cinders. Or grasp at saidar and burn herself. It was all too much. She tried to centre herself, even aware as she was that the monster was still seated behind her, out of sight. Her forehead rested against the door as she breathed in slowly through her mouth, then breathed out slowly through her nose. In, and out. In, and out.

"I thought you were my friend." Again, another set of words that drew hurt. "I guess not." There was a scrapping of wood against the floor, a chair being moved. She glanced over her shoulder, but Murdock was already settling himself in front of his desk, as if forgetting or dismissing the Accepted. Elia took it as a signal to go. Her hand pressed down against the door handle, and felt the breeze from outside brush against her skin. It was like a valve being released, as sickness and hurt and anger knotted inside her, pushed against her chest, made it hard to breath or think straight. She thrust herself outside quickly, pulling the door behind her shut with a bang. Then she was off, her feet making quick strides across the ground back towards her own rooms. She looked a sight, but was too focused on herself to notice.