entrancelogs | [closed] if you must die, sweetheart,

Entry tags:

[closed] if you must die, sweetheart,

Who: Damon Salvatore, Peter Parker, and Clementine + others
Where: Real side and mirror side
When: Length of the event/aftermath of the event
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A bunch of closed starters for these characters throughout the Event. Let me know here if you want a specific shenanigan, and I'll set up something for you!
The Story: Starters below.

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At this point, it's clear Wonderland's going to hell again even if Peter can't quite place the reasons as to why. There was no Event post even if there was a post about- about something vague happening, which Peter missed. His mind had immediately gone to the experiments Fitz had told him about. It's clear mirrors are on this side, which is why he's been in the suit mostly, but since it also tends to startle people who are edge too, Peter's dressed in his regular clothes this time, ducking into rooms to see if anyone needs help.

He smelled the blood earlier, and he's aware of what mirrors can do (he stumbled on Faith's headless the last time they were able to cross over, and Peter refuses to let anything like that happen again.

Sometimes he convinces himself he has that much control, that much ability as if willing it, as if fighting, as if trying as hard as possible can make that happen. It can't. It won't. Someone he loves, a friend, has already died, and he doesn't know yet).

People will need all the help they can get. He's so focused on this that he's not remotely prepared for what comes next.

Damon had been incapacitated before he could react or anticipate what was about to happen. Otherwise, he would have warned her. He would have crossed over when his real had been taken out of the game, and he would have taken her by surprise like he once remembers slicing Kai's head off of his body with his bare hand. It would have been same for the witch, the witch Damon still wants dead but there is no easy way to kill her now.

She'll be on the defensive, and he's not supposed to want anything anymore (but he does, doesn't he?). He's not supposed to hurt anymore (but he does, doesn't he?).

She comes back. She opens her eyes. She breathes again, and he feels those glimmers stir all over again at the sight of her.

He gives her a chance with his real (with the one who can comfort her, with the one who is whole even in his pain and grief). This Damon is only a shadow, but he is still drawn through the reflective surface on the fourth day.

There's no telling how much longer he will have this chance, and he has to be certain she is- he has to check in on her in person. There's no sound through the other side of the mirror though he's certain his real is banging on the surface. Elena sleeps soundly. The Real Damon had been up, pacing, and now the mirror erases the distance between them to drift his fingers down the side of her face (and doesn't really remember doing this before), and he wonder it would be like if all the connections torn out of him for her were back.

What if they had never been severed? What if it was healed and strong?

How can he feel nothing but still feel these wild, warm stirrings in his chest?

He stays near while she sleeps, unwilling to wake her even if the Event all comes to an end now. Part of him is afraid of what happens when she wakes.

"No, no, no, no. Elena!"

Her name tears from him abruptly, strangled.

The Real Damon is on the other side of the mirror, pressing his palms to it to try to shove himself through but he can't. She's asleep. There's no way he can tell her, and his mirror is fucking creeping over her sleeping body, and no.

Elena has told him time and time again that she doesn't think his mirror wants to hurt her, but given the current state of things, given someone's mirror fucking killed her, he's clawing at the mirror, barely managing to restrain his own strength so he doesn't break his only view on his mirror with his girl.

He slams his fist into the mirror, unthinkingly. He means to hold himself back but he can't- doesn't. Panic gathers inside him, and the mirror shatters. It leaves him falling down on the floor, reaching for broken pieces to try to get a view of it- of her- of what's happening.

He doesn't even realize Regis is here too. His awareness has shattered like the mirror on the floor, and it's so quick after- after she died, and he's sure he's overreacting (Elena would know, wouldn't she? She'd know her well enough to know) but can't quite keep himself from that either.

For someone who had claimed before to be rarely surprised by anything, Regis' reaction to suddenly appearing in the muted, washed-out hallway had been a very pronounced start. If anything could be said about the vampire, though, it was that very little actually frightens him, and so he approaches this odd scenario with no small amount of curiosity.

After a brief conversation in the mirror with his... mirror, which lays a small seed of concern in the pit of his stomach, he ventures into the mansion's reflection with all intent of finding someone else and gaining their aid in escaping.

What he comes across instead, is Damon. He rounds the corner in time to see the mirror shatter, and takes a moment to simply observe the situation.

"Damon," he says gently, moving closer and leaning down to pick up one of the larger shards. "Ah," he murmurs as a quiet addition, quickly realising the source of the young vampire's distress.

She didn't think the real side could be so much fun. The mirrors have been told to hunt and hurt, and many of them are doing so with glee. Sharon isn't gleeful; she's too professional for that, but she is enjoying herself.

She's particularly enjoying her real's paranoia. The real had plenty of guns in her room, and Sharon has picked out a couple before mimicking the real and how she'd crept around the mansion to protect people. Only Sharon has no interest in protecting anyone. Clearly. Anyone who thinks otherwise is an idiot.

And if anyone confuses her for her real, she'll likely be so pissed off that professionalism be damned, she's shooting them.

She checks around a corner and spots the bug boy. She's watched him from the other side of the mirror before, and she knows some of what he's capable of. Most importantly, she knows that he will try to stop the mirrors, and he actually stands a chance of doing so.

The mission is clear: Take him out.

Challenge: His sense of danger.

So maybe a kill shot right off the bat would be unwise. Very well. She'll incapacitate him and then kill him.

With no more hesitation or consideration, she aims the gun at his thigh and shoots.

The big problem with whatever the hell is happening is that Mirrors aren't always easy to pick out from the crowd all the time. Sometimes they are very obvious. Sometimes they're not, and Peter's started to realize that maybe being in his suit isn't the best idea. He has a better chance sneaking up on them that way, but he's also not so good at- at being Spider-man without the mask.

It makes him braver. It makes him bigger, better, stronger. It makes him more.

He's decided to try crawling across the ceiling so as to sneak up on any potential mirrors.

No big deal, Jason. Just Pajamas crawling around on the ceiling.

Damon's hand grips so hard to the shard of glass that it cuts through his palm. The smell of blood enters the area. He shakes, and he realizes distantly that's Regis' voice. It's his friend's voice in the middle of his breaking apart. It could very well be Regis' mirror instead, but he can't think as to why Regis' mirror would want to- What would be the motivation? He pushes himself to his feet and stares at the bloody shard in his hand.

"She's already been through enough this week," he hisses out the words as if speaking to that version of him who can't hear because he's on the other side. "And now my mirror's there, sliding into bed with her and she doesn't know."

And Damon does not trust him. His voice strangles.

"I can't-"

Peter senses the bullet before it hits him, but he doesn't sense it fast enough to get out of the way in time. It comes in part from how unexpected it actually is. The bullet hits him lower on the leg than she intended it to. It goes through his calf as he hops up on the ceiling instead, hissing out a breath between his teeth because he's pretty sure it's lodged in there now.

Not the first time he's been shot in the leg (and it wasn't enough to keep him down then either. there was a giant lizard man to take care of after all), but fuck, it hurts.

He smartly moves before she can fire off another shot, twisting around, aiming his web shooter for her gun.

"Can't a Mirror ever play nice?"

Regis' mirror would not want to, and for that, Regis is very grateful that the presence is his own and not that of his sociopathic counterpart. He observes the glass for a few moments more, until the scent of blood sharply yanks his attention away from it... and Damon is incredibly lucky that Regis has such steady control of himself and his demons.

"Would he harm her?" he asks, gently taking hold of Damon's wrist to remove the shard of mirror from his grasp. He lets it drop, and meticulously wipes the smears of blood from his fingers on the hem of his tunic. Not all mirrors were murderous, he knows this, but he does not know what Damon's might be like.

"We can focus on returning to the correct side of this world if the danger to Elena is not immediate. If it is, we must locate someone who will assist us."

Elena has isolated herself a bit since the incident with Freya's mirror.

She hasn't seen much of anyone, much less has she stepped out of the room she unofficially shares with Damon. The mirrors are still walking amongst their Reals on this side of the looking glass, most of them with ill intentions, and Elena is simply not in the right state to help. Freya's mirror seems to have gotten what she wanted, but there's no telling if there are any surprises left. There's also the mirror belonging to Klaus they've yet to face, so she can't even say that Damon's paranoia and protectiveness are unfounded.

The first mansion death took a lot out of Elena, likely because of the way it happened. She was depleted of all blood—not for the first time—and Wonderland's magic is different to the magic from home. Or maybe it's just that she's emotionally exhausted.

Whatever the reason, she finds herself in deep sleep when the exchange occurs.

Since there is no way to hear a single thing from the Mirror side, her sleep is uninterrupted. She only rouses when the tips of what she believes to be Damon's fingers trickle down her cheek, and her eyes only open at half-mast, drowsy. He's been pacing, worried, angry—

"Mm," she sighs on a long exhale, curling her fingers around his to tug him toward her. "Come back to bed."

Her gun trails him, shooting again. This is the make or break time - she either puts him down now, or she has to wait until later. She doesn't think for a second that he has the guts to kill her. Poor little stupid heroic sorts.

She isn't sure how many hits she gets - or even if she gets any - before webbing hits the gun, a bit hitting her hands, too. It feels just as disgusting as she'd expected.

"What makes you think I'm not being nice by trying to kill you? I'm just trying to help everyone else here." She doesn't bother trying to free her gun from the webbing; she suspects whatever she uses to scrape it off will just stick to it.

She smirks at him. If she can't hurt him physically yet, there are other ways she might be able to shake him up. "Bad things are going to happen, and you can't stop them. The best thing you can do is lay low until it's over."

Jason knows exactly what it's like to have a mask change everything. Jason Scott is just a kid, but the Red Ranger saves lives. It's a little weird figuring out which lives need saving at a time like this, but he has to try. They all do.

Billy's talked to enough people to glean that the mirrors get sent back by taking a look at themselves. That's why he's armed himself with a ~~perfectly appropriate~~ handmirror. If anyone shies away from their reflection, then that's cause alone for suspicion. It's a starting point, at least.

That doesn't mean that he isn't on edge when his web-shooting pal comes crawling along on the ceiling. That's what floors are for, man! He jumps, startled enough to fall into a defensive stance. It might double as his way of jumping on top of a chair at the sight of an errant arachnid.

"You're gonna give a guy a heart attack like that!"

Damon's hand heals immediately afterward, and he lifts his head up to finally meet the other vampire's gaze. He shakes his head.

"I don't know. She doesn't think so," he says even as he swallows thickly, because he has never believed or trusted in any version of himself as much as Elena Gilbert has. She believed he was worthy of love before anyone else did.

He breathes in and then breathes out again. Panic claws at his chest along with grief.

"I don't think it's-" He shakes his head. He already held her body, empty of her this week. He's already- Damon blinks and swallows and tries to collect himself again. His voice lowers. "She's already died this week, Regis. I can't let her get hurt again."

"Damon." He says his name again, quiet but firm. Regis grips his friend's shoulders and pulls him into a brief, but warm hug before he pushes him back to hold his upper arms and look him in the eye.

"This is much to ask of you, but you need to be calm. You will do yourself and Elena no service through panic."

It's difficult, he knows, he understands. He doesn't like it here either, and severely doubts his mirror's intentions are anything close to good.

"I am here with you, and we will find our way back together."

Damon breathes in sharp.

He should say something. He should say anything to immediately give him away to her so she can have an actual choice in who she invites to lie beside her in bed, to tangle up in her. Words get caught in his throat instead. His mouth parts and then closes again, and his eyes burn as her fingers curl around his, and she tugs him in.

He follows helpless to do anything else.

Damon sinks into bed beside her as if he were made for it, as if it makes sense for him to be there.

He tilts his head into the pillow and then winds his arm around her waist to hold on to her, to hold on to her, to apologize, to wonder,

to process,

to struggle with these feelings which shouldn't be his but are. Beyond all reason. He's far too afraid to speak.

Peter moves faster as she fires. Another bullet grazes on his shoulder, but it's not enough to be serious. His spider senses help him anticipate the danger and respond to it before it happens. If not for that, she would have put him down. She's good. She's well trained, and he is not about to let his own guard down for a second.

"How does killing me help anyone? Doesn't seem very logical."

He doesn't get it. He moves across the ceiling until he drops down behind her, tilting his head to the side. "Of course I can't stop them. Wonderland's got Events happening whatever I do, but I can minimize damage, oh-sharp-one. I can save people."

He can, and it has to matter.

The way Regis says his name has Damon lifting his gaze up toward him, and then- then he stills in the shock of the gesture, which follows. Regis pulls him into the brief, warm hug. While Damon hardly has a chance to process or react beyond sinking into the embrace. It has its intended effect.

It calms Damon down enough to get a hold of himself. His one hand grasps tight hold of Regis' forearm, helping him gain enough focus to breathe through the rage in his chest.

When he speaks, he's decidedly more calm. Distantly, he realizes it's because some part of him has started to trust Regis, and trust isn't given easily from the likes of Damon. He believes Regis will help him find a way out.

"Okay." He swallows and forces himself to not stare back into the shards. His gaze drifts over Regis before he looks away, slightly ashamed at his own outburst. Gotta pull it together. "We're getting out of here."

Elena moves into his hold, pressing her face into the crook of his neck the way she's done so many times. An arm instinctively goes around his waist to bring him closer, breathing in deep. "You smell nice," she mumbles into his skin, but she doesn't open her eyes. It's hard to tell whether she's a moment from falling back to sleep or going to drowsily sustain a conversation.

Sleep itself hasn't come easily to her, despite her exhaustion. It needs to either sneak up on her or hit her like a ton of bricks. The latter is what happened earlier, when she fell into some kind of slumbering coma. She imagines he didn't stray too far.

If Damon had been already hovering and overprotective (which he was), that's only doubled after what happened with Freya's mirror. And right now she feels no need to have a discussion about that. She just wants to keep things close to home for a little bit.

She wants to hold and be held, just like this.

Damn it, he's fast. How? He's a little buggy guy that the Queen could crush beneath her heel with ease. Sharon doesn't normally mind spiders, but she's really starting to hate spider people.

Her gun is useless now; she only continues to hold it because it's stuck to her hands. She tracks him with her eyes nonetheless, though, because she doesn't need a gun to be dangerous.

She tsks quietly, looking at him with pity. "Oh, you really haven't been paying attention, have you. The people who have disappeared here, who have died. The people you failed. If that's what you call 'minimizing damage,' then I see why no one holds you in high regard. Other than everything else, I mean."

She sighs as if inconvenienced - because let's face it, that's all this is going to be -
and holds up her hands. "Look at this. You're just a pubescent kid armed with goop. How long do you think this will last? Do you really think you can stop the Queen from getting what she wants?"

"...you seem too young to have a heart attack so easily, which might be an assumption on my part."

Peter waves a hand from his spot on the ceiling. He's all red and blue, but he drops down on to the floor and takes a step towards the red ranger with a little smile. It's always good to know there are other people out there trying to keep others safe.

There's no guarantee of it ever, but it all seems- Well, he's exhausted from trying to be everywhere at once. Sometimes he needs a reminder he doesn't have to be.

"How's it goin?"

Damon swallows thickly. He barely manages to keep himself from shaking as she presses her face into his neck. This closeness- He doesn't know he can ever remember anything like it before. She presses her face his neck like it fits there, and he almost believes it. He almost believes that even after he has been broken and carved out-

She can still fit perfectly with him.

His arm winds further around her back until his palm presses between her shoulder blades. He digs his fingertips in protectively as if he has any ability to do so. He as rendered unnecessary before he was able to process what was going on. The Queen owns him like the siren once did. The only difference is he has More choice here, more choice where he was unable to save her (in the real world, in the mirror world).

It's accurate to who he is.

He brushes his mouth against the top of her head. Pain lodges so hard in his throat that he doesn't know he can breathe through it. It's right on the edge. His switch is buried down so deep but she cradles him close, and he feels it, threatening to rupture. All that matters now is holding her, keeping his arms wound around her, knowing she is alive and okay. Those golden streams of light shoot up through him like fireworks.

It explodes in his head. Things he can't remember. Things he can't forget.

Elena is cognizant enough to observe that he remains quiet, despite the muddled and drowsy nature of her thoughts and movements. Damon goes quiet every now and then, ever since his return on Thanksgiving, so it's nothing she thinks twice about. He's gone quiet after what happened with Freya's mirror, and Elena doesn't have to ask to know what is running through his head. All the ways he could have stopped it. All the ways he wants someone to hurt because she is hurting. All the ways to keep her safe now.

She inches closer, taking in a deep breath. She smells leather and the faintest hint of bourbon.

The fact she doesn't open her eyes conveys a deep level of comfort and trust, but she hasn't let herself fall back to sleep just yet. Not when he was pacing. Not when he is this quiet. She presses a kiss to his chest.

"What is it?"

Events mean checking in on people you care about, and Clementine has been doing that throughout the week along with using all those survival skills of her to stay out of harm's way. When she first found Iris, she was taking care of Barry who was badly injured. She's been bringing by food throughout the week to make sure Iris is taking care of herself too. Sometimes she sits with Iris so she's not alone and helps out too since she knows some first aid herself, and sometimes it's good to be reminded her hands can do good, and the sight of injuries never bothers her (Why would it?)

There were creepy sounds outside. Clementine stays away. She knows better so she stays away. She's all about survival even Georgia's mirror knows that. It all ended up being a lake so it's fine, and Clementine hasn't gone out to see the lake just yet. She'll let other people explore it first, and when she's certain it's safe, she'll go too. She has no idea Iris has found another friend, injured, suffering.

She stops by, reaching up to knock on the door. Clementine carries coffee and a box of sandwiches from the diner in case anyone who stops by might be hungry or in case Iris wants another one later.

"...Iris?"

Peter tilts his head to the side as he surveys her at the words, tying the webbing around her middle. If she was a threat to him, she'll be a threat to anyone. Hell, if he knows why, he's never taken the time to learn mirror's reasoning for anything. They're made by the Queen, to serve the Queen. Seems like a sad existence. There's no mask which means he can't quite hide the wince, which follows her words.

"I personally feel everyone should hold me in the highest regard because I literally crawl around on the ceiling."

Deflect, deflect. Using humor has always served him well. He's stumbling over it more than he would if he had the mask on, but the snark's still shining clearly through.

"I mean, what is it that she wants exactly? A better crown? People to respect her when I'm pretty sure she mostly shrieks a lot from what I've known of her. Not really worthy of the slightest acknowledgement if you ask me."

Sharon rolls her eyes. She can't believe that he's tying her up with his little juice webbing. "You're kinkier than you look." She looks down to judge his handiwork and shakes her head. "Though you need better training. The best thing I can say about this is 'Sloppy.'"

As for what the Queen wants? Peter can find out on his own.

"Why would I tell you what she wants? I came here to put you down like the pathetic wannabe hero you are, put you out of your misery before you fuck up your life worse than you already have - again."

She smiles sweetly. "You should learn to recognize when people are trying to do you a favor, Peter."

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[closed] if you must die, sweetheart,

for Mirror!Sharon

some silhouette | for elena

for regis

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for Jason

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I feel so special :3

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you ARE so special .-.

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for Iris

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