Who: THE MIRRORS (Sam, Ellie, and Robyn) Where: The REAL mansion When: May 13-20th Rating: PG-13 for possible language, violence, and flirtation Summary: A chance to cross over doesn't happen every day. The Story:
[For all the fronts and missions her Real puts up, Shepard's mirror has always been the quiet type. She will do as she's told, she will fight with her training, but she will not allow herself reprieve from her own damnation. She made mistakes, not like her Real did- she gave up, to Saren, to the Reapers, and now all she does is submit.
She doesn't want to be targeted by the Queen for disobeying, and in the interest of keeping her head down, she jumps over to do her duty. But... perhaps, she will allow herself a bit of exploring. Places the mirrorside doesn't have. She finds her way to the Chapel accidentally, walking in as if in a trance, eyes drifting over the imagery and drinking it in as if she will never see anything so beautiful again. One of her hands reaches up and absentmindedly brushes one of the heavy cybernetic cracks in her face and immediately recedes as if burned.
She doesn't notice anyone outright, and wouldn't want to be interrupting. But she so infrequently affords herself a view of anything wonderful, she seems too entranced to notice the mirror's presence.]
[ Robyn's Mirror doesn't have much to offer anyone and therefore shies from company. Company always seems to find her, though, perhaps drawn to the chapel as she herself was, and is.
She doesn't speak for a long time, watching Shepard like a hawk. ]
Your face... [ She says aloud, wondering. Her own is a mess of dark veins and inky trails, as if she's leaking, but this woman is... clearly different. ]
[She stiffens immediately at the voice, turning and reaching instinctively for weapons that aren't there until she stops herself. The other woman doesn't look like she'd be capable of putting up a fight. Still, wariness is safety. Just in case.]
What about it?
[She seems awed. Probably doesn't know what it means, the stupid decisions she made to get herself to the point where she's more machine than human.]
[The red eyes of the mirror follow her hands as she brings them away, the trail of... something going with her. Disease? Infection? It's hard to say. But that's not what the other woman asked, so it's not what she responds to.]
Yeah. They're... technology. From surgery.
[From stitching her skin over upgraded technology, from a submission that she should not have conceded to.]
Didn't, uhm... didn't really heal cleanly. I think they wanted them that way.
Why? [ Robyn's Mirror asks, full of questions, but never with answers of her own. ] If they had... done something like that, why would they not want their work to appear - clean?
[ She isn't sure that she understands, but, then, this person is from a world entirely different than her own. Maybe she isn't meant to understand. ]
[It's... weird, answering these sorts of questions. They never were asked, back home-- or, well, if back home was even real. Everyone had known what had happened. Everyone had known the mistakes she made. None of it beared repeating when you're the pariah of a galaxy.]
I guess so... everyone knew. Like a symbol.
[Like a martyr. Or what she hoped would be so. Take me, and the universe lives. But that was never the case.]
They were upgrades. For, uh... new employer, I guess.
[She's not sure how much she feels like talking about the weight of her own sins, anymore.]
Upgrades? Hmm. [ She blinks, shakes her head. ] I don't understand, but it isn't any of my business, now is it?
[ The other woman seems uncomfortable. Most people are uncomfortable, around her. ]
It is a taint. [ Robyn explains, as if her condition didn't suggest as much already. ] A disease that either kills you, or transforms you into a ghoul. Servants of the darkspawn that spread this infection.
[ Of course, that isn't how she'd been infected. That was the fault of the Grey Wardens. ]
[It has very little to do, frankly, with who's asking her, and more what she's being asked. It matters not that this mirror seems to be under similar circumstances of having opportunities ripped away, of carrying a physical sign of their issues. She shouldn't feel like it's her fault, but this Shepard doesn't have the sort of empathy needed to say anything about it. So she nods, tries to look appropriately worried.]
So... you're dying? I'm sorry. It looks... painful.
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ayy
She doesn't want to be targeted by the Queen for disobeying, and in the interest of keeping her head down, she jumps over to do her duty. But... perhaps, she will allow herself a bit of exploring. Places the mirrorside doesn't have. She finds her way to the Chapel accidentally, walking in as if in a trance, eyes drifting over the imagery and drinking it in as if she will never see anything so beautiful again. One of her hands reaches up and absentmindedly brushes one of the heavy cybernetic cracks in her face and immediately recedes as if burned.
She doesn't notice anyone outright, and wouldn't want to be interrupting. But she so infrequently affords herself a view of anything wonderful, she seems too entranced to notice the mirror's presence.]
no subject
She doesn't speak for a long time, watching Shepard like a hawk. ]
Your face... [ She says aloud, wondering. Her own is a mess of dark veins and inky trails, as if she's leaking, but this woman is... clearly different. ]
no subject
What about it?
[She seems awed. Probably doesn't know what it means, the stupid decisions she made to get herself to the point where she's more machine than human.]
They're scars. You seem to have some, too.
no subject
[ Nobody knows what that is. No one else is dying of this disease that they forced on her, the unwanted duty, I should have died at Highever. ]
Yours... glow. [ She notes softly, almost awed. ]
no subject
Yeah. They're... technology. From surgery.
[From stitching her skin over upgraded technology, from a submission that she should not have conceded to.]
Didn't, uhm... didn't really heal cleanly. I think they wanted them that way.
no subject
[ She isn't sure that she understands, but, then, this person is from a world entirely different than her own. Maybe she isn't meant to understand. ]
What prompted the surgery?
no subject
I guess so... everyone knew. Like a symbol.
[Like a martyr. Or what she hoped would be so. Take me, and the universe lives. But that was never the case.]
They were upgrades. For, uh... new employer, I guess.
[She's not sure how much she feels like talking about the weight of her own sins, anymore.]
What about you? What's the Blight?
no subject
[ The other woman seems uncomfortable. Most people are uncomfortable, around her. ]
It is a taint. [ Robyn explains, as if her condition didn't suggest as much already. ] A disease that either kills you, or transforms you into a ghoul. Servants of the darkspawn that spread this infection.
[ Of course, that isn't how she'd been infected. That was the fault of the Grey Wardens. ]
no subject
So... you're dying? I'm sorry. It looks... painful.
[What tact, what grace.]
no subject
[ She supposes she could ask to be Unmade, but then she wouldn't be herself anymore, not really. ]
no subject
[Hell, even a transfer of conciousness, or... something.
Then again, she of all people knows what the end of the road feels like. To be out of options, and time.]
The Queen can't even do anything about it?
no subject
[ The Queen? She nearly laughs. ]
The Queen doesn't care about us. [ She whispers, fearful of who might hear. ] Why should she? She could easily remake us if we trouble her.
no subject
[Someone has to. Someone has to care.]
Even if it's just for her own gain. There's... there's purpose. We have purpose.