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:
[ She is predictable. Robyn's Mirror hears the announcement from their Queen without comment, without response; she is a loyal soldier, but not a proactive one. Not one strong enough to wrangle rebels. Instead, she slips over quietly with the cover story of hunting for the traitors and teaching their Reals a lesson, intending only one thing. One destination.
She finds the real chapel, the better version of the pale reflection on their side. She hovers in the back, as if afraid of something in the front, though there are no icons of any kind, no religious symbols, statues, or texts. The blighted Mirror paces a little, wavering, and then takes a seat in one of the back pews.
For once, she doesn't try to recall the Chant. Most of that is long gone, now, even more so than even a year ago. She also doesn't pray for anything, though she does silently wish for solitude, for silence. To pass through this part of their world undisturbed until it's time to return to their gray-scale home. ]
[ Sam's Mirror has every intention of catching those awful fools that crossed over without permission. His traitor's brand itches against his skin, a mockery of the anti-possession tattoo that his Real wears. He drags his nails across it now, idly, as he surveys one of the real mansion's hallways that he'd just stepped into. If he can return at least one of the traitors, then perhaps the Queen of Hearts would consider bringing Sam back into the fold and removing the horrendous crime against his skin. ]
Let's see... [ He murmurs, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin. There's so much to do here, and that's all without the thrill of chasing down their "enemies." He has every intention of slipping into his Real's room, if possible, and stealing or smashing up the place. Other than that, there are a few people he'd like to "talk" to (though, with dear old Dad gone...) ]
[ Every room that's unlocked, she's in. Ellie's Mirror slips in and out of them and takes what she can carry or stuff into her backpack. She makes regular trips back across the mirrors to deposit what she steals into the messy cache she calls a room. You could call her a junior hoarder, but she considers herself to be a practiced survivalist (even though not everything she takes is necessarily related to survival).
Even the kitchens: the Mirror nabs a bunch of non-perishables and water bottles and makes off with all that, too. It's more than likely that you will come across her with her arms full, but she won't hesitate to drop all that in a second and whip out the machete that hangs across her back in a leather holster. ]
( She's one of the first to cross over, quick to try and claim the bounty from her queen. Leliana lives for this -- the danger, and thr death.
She's out searching when she catches sight of the Warden, the unblemished look compared to the eoman she's seen, and someone whom her 'real' seems to dote over.
A hand pulls one of her blades out as Leliana quickens her steps, hurrying around the corner to her.
Slipping a hand over Robyn's mouth, dagger pulled to her throat, Leliana laughs )
[Dan told her how he was alerted to her untimely demise, was kind enough to give her as much detail as he was able. Witches and werewolves and no concrete answers, not for her, which is more infuriating than she anticipated. A dangerous individual being harboured by well-meaning friends or family, no doubt afraid of the sort of kangaroo court that would try a person who created such a violent end for her, and harmed others.
It is cowardly at best, but Evelyn is still sluggish from the resurrection as though she slept for too long and her body is struggling to catch up. Too tired to fight. Dan gave her leave to retrieve some things from her flat after minor protest, provided she stayed safe, and so she gathers a small bag of books, a notepad, patting Cinnamon idly on the head while she putters through the apartment like an automaton.
mirror!robyn ; ota
She finds the real chapel, the better version of the pale reflection on their side. She hovers in the back, as if afraid of something in the front, though there are no icons of any kind, no religious symbols, statues, or texts. The blighted Mirror paces a little, wavering, and then takes a seat in one of the back pews.
For once, she doesn't try to recall the Chant. Most of that is long gone, now, even more so than even a year ago. She also doesn't pray for anything, though she does silently wish for solitude, for silence. To pass through this part of their world undisturbed until it's time to return to their gray-scale home. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Sorry this took forever.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
ayy
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
\o/
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
mirror!sam ; ota
Let's see... [ He murmurs, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin. There's so much to do here, and that's all without the thrill of chasing down their "enemies." He has every intention of slipping into his Real's room, if possible, and stealing or smashing up the place. Other than that, there are a few people he'd like to "talk" to (though, with dear old Dad gone...) ]
Where to first?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
mirror!ellie ; ota
Even the kitchens: the Mirror nabs a bunch of non-perishables and water bottles and makes off with all that, too. It's more than likely that you will come across her with her arms full, but she won't hesitate to drop all that in a second and whip out the machete that hangs across her back in a leather holster. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
She's out searching when she catches sight of the Warden, the unblemished look compared to the eoman she's seen, and someone whom her 'real' seems to dote over.
A hand pulls one of her blades out as Leliana quickens her steps, hurrying around the corner to her.
Slipping a hand over Robyn's mouth, dagger pulled to her throat, Leliana laughs )
I've never found what she sees in you.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Sam, 5/17
I'm in my rooms, if you would like to talk.
[Dan told her how he was alerted to her untimely demise, was kind enough to give her as much detail as he was able. Witches and werewolves and no concrete answers, not for her, which is more infuriating than she anticipated. A dangerous individual being harboured by well-meaning friends or family, no doubt afraid of the sort of kangaroo court that would try a person who created such a violent end for her, and harmed others.
It is cowardly at best, but Evelyn is still sluggish from the resurrection as though she slept for too long and her body is struggling to catch up. Too tired to fight. Dan gave her leave to retrieve some things from her flat after minor protest, provided she stayed safe, and so she gathers a small bag of books, a notepad, patting Cinnamon idly on the head while she putters through the apartment like an automaton.
Going through the motions.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)