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Who: Jack Wynand and mirror!Mark Meltzer
Where: Starting in the hallway outside Jack's room, eventually moving on to the door
When: Right now, during the event, with the Bandersnatch running about
Rating: PG? Possible swearing.
Summary: Two men from opposite sides of the looking glass strike a dangerous bargain.
The Story:

Jack is venturing out. Despite the horrifying monster on the loose, he's tired of the packaged fare the closets offer, and he's confident enough in his ability to light fires and hurl furniture items at a distance that he's willing to risk a frumious encounter, just to taste something fresh.

He's well-armed, too, in case fires and telekinesis don't do the trick; he has his wrench, his handgun, and a shotgun slung across his back. He's unmasked--for now, peripheral vision takes precedence over his comfort.

He sets out with purpose, but pauses. Turns back.

He's seen something written on the mirror closest to his room: a chess grid.

It seems an odd time to expect him to play chess, what with a beast that could be upon him at any moment, so rather than make a move, he simply looks into the mirror, frowning faintly.

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He steps through with a ripple of glass, more like Meltzer than usual in his worn clothes--but still crisper in his motions, more businesslike, and the lines of his face are harsher.
He nods at the wrench, then tips his head towards the mirror without looking at it.

"I can't break that."

Edited 2013-05-06 02:56 (UTC)

Jack steps in close, and shatters the mirror with one sharp, central blow.

"So that's what you need me for."

"No, that's just basic caution.
I'd like to make a guess at the riddle downstairs."

Even though solving isn't really his thing.

"You don't need me for that. Unless you're worried about that furry thing."

And to be fair, worrying about the Bandersnatch would be completely reasonable.

"Let's walk and talk, speaking of which."

He'll start down the hall, keeping an eye out for mirrors to smash and cameras to dodge or short circuit.

"There are plenty of mirrors in the entrance hall. I could step through one of those easily."

"But you couldn't break it." Jack smashes another, frowning. "Someone might see you."

He nods approvingly as Jack does so.

"Why wouldn't I want to be seen, making a guess on my own? Those are our orders--to beat you, and our fellow mirrors, to the correct answer."

Edited 2013-05-08 14:38 (UTC)

He stops, staring a little.

"So what do you need me for?"

"Her Majesty seems adamant that a mirror solve the riddle--before any of you, of course, and on his own."

Because why else would they be so heavily encouraged to work against each other?

"But the answer contains eight letters. What would happen to the door if you and I split the solution evenly?"

Jack looks at him, intrigued and a little awed.

"…I don't know."

"Neither do I. But I would like to experiment."

He slows his pace a little.

"There's a painting up ahead with a camera in it. A really tacky one."

The painting and the camera, both.

"The blind spot is the inside corner, coming up here."

He snaps his fingers, activating Incinerate, his hand flaring with hot, red embers.

"The last time that door opened, a monster came out."

Oh, he remembers that one. Always so pretty. His eyes linger on Jack's hand as he speaks.

"That's if our guess is wrong. If it is, we share the penalty."

Monsters or otherwise.

"That means you stay and help me deal with it."

He sets the painting alight, shoots the camera when the canvas has burned away enough to reveal it.

"You're being very pessimistic about this."

"I'm being prepared."

Sigh.

"Yes, I'll stay."

"Good."

Another mirror bites the dust. Jack glances behind at the glittering, smoking mess they've made in the hallway, and smiles a little.

"What is it?"

"The broken glass. It's pretty."

He looks--and, well. It is rather impressive.

"I see. Simple pleasures."

"Come on. We've got more to make."

He nods and moves on.

"...I can understand why you wouldn't want to. But if you were to arm me, I could help a bit more directly."

"…the closets, right. It's the same on both sides?" He's looking the mirror up and down, assessing the threat level. Apparently what he comes up with is I could take him, because he opens the next closet he comes across and holds out a crowbar.

"Yes. It's the same."

Reaching for the crowbar, he turns his hand over, shows Jack his wrist--and the mark there.

"Any mirror with one of these is under restrictions. Might come in handy for you."

There. Even trade. Information for a tool.