Doppelganger in the Ducts

With but few exceptions, it is always the underdog who wins through sheer willpower. -Johnny Weissmuller

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Max Lager
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Doppelganger in the Ducts

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Wednesday, January 2

"And his name is Alasdair, and he's from Earth too originally. His accent is kind of familiar, but I think he's lived here for a while. I think you'd like him!" Max said to her father as she continued to rattle on about her date from this last Saturday night.

He'd arrived early and while Max was still in the midst of getting ready for their weekly dinner and on her way through the open doorway of her bathroom, so her back was turned to the giant of a man suddenly brooding in the small living room of her apartment. "Oh ho ho ho, I don't think so," he grumped while crossing his arms over his broad chest.

His disagreement did not sway Max from her beliefs though, or stop her from continuing on, "He's brilliant too Dad. He made an invisible helmet! I met him at a costume party, and he was dressed up like Perseus. Did I tell you about that party I went to a couple months back?"

The grumbling continued in the other room as the young woman searched the small porcelain vanity. The usual suspects were littered on the counter: hair pins, an assortment of makeup and their corresponding brushes, a collection of hair ties, jars of different face creams and cleansers, a bottle of mouthwash and a lumpy tube of toothpaste. One item was conspicuously missing, her hair brush.

“Huh, weird. Where did I put that?” Max muttered to herself before checking her reflection in the mirror. Her hair wasn’t that awful, but she smoothed it out a bit with one hand while the other collected a few bobby pins to tuck away a flyaway or two before she could hear her father’s approach.

“You don’t need any of that nonsense dóttir,” he affectionally called while peering into the bathroom’s mess. “You are the brightest most brilliant star in any sky.”

Max beamed brightly up to the man, her hazel eyes meeting his single icy blue one. “You know who else is brilliant? Alasdair. He also ---”

And before she could continue, her father sighed, laughed and shook his head. “Bah, fine fine. I get your hints. They are as subtle as giant bricks. He is a metal forger you said? He makes armor and magical things? Tell me all about it on the way to dinner. Your father, he is hungry.” Claiming as he patted a hand against his flannel covered stomach.

Seeing her plan work, Max continued smiling as she followed the man on the way to her front door. “Inventor, I think. He makes all kinds of things. He makes objects have magic, isn’t that amazing?”

And so, she continued her prattling on praises of Alasdair and their first date as the pair collected their coats and went on their way.
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Max Lager
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Re: Doppelganger in the Ducts

Post by Max Lager »

Sunday, January 13

Max hadn’t intended to fall asleep while still enjoying Alasdair’s company after the homecooked meal they shared at his apartment, but she also wasn’t very surprised that she’d babbled on for what was probably hours into the wee hours of the night, only to abruptly stop as if a switch had been flipped once the sun was starting to make its rise. She remembered a lightening purple at the edge of the horizon, feeling certain that Alasdair was smiling for some reason even though she wasn’t looking at him and then --- she conked out.

She could only hope that she hadn’t done something embarrassing like drooled on him or snored like a bear. How could one really know if they snored or not anyway? Max didn’t remember climbing into Alasdair’s bed, but she woke up there, bleary eyed and confused when she realized it was not her own bed. He was sweet to not question her when she asked him to lead her home, her eyes repeatedly sliding closed as he walked her through the snow in the early afternoon. Once he nudged her awake to inform her that they were standing on the doorstep to her apartment building, Max gave him a dazed smile and sleepily kissed him goodbye.

Once in her apartment, the young woman promptly face planted into her couch, giving up on any more attempts at staying awake during daylight hours. So, it was with a fair amount of confusion when she felt a hand sweep hair off her face as she danced along the lines of being awake and asleep. Struggling to open even one eye, her incoherent mumble was met with an almost familiar voice. “Shhhhh. Sleep. Sleep Aurora.”

That name did prompt her eyes to open, but they were still dusted with sleep and confusion. Only when she saw Alasdair’s face, her confusion slipped away instantly, “Oh, I didn’t realize you came up to check on me. I just…need…. five more….minutes…..” Max’s head had already laid back down and she was down for the count again.

The figure straightened up, Alasdair’s face slipping away as eyes rolled. “Such a shame to crack so pretty a vessel.” A blanket was lifted off the arm of a nearby chair and laid over Max as they took great care tucking her in before moving away.
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