entrancelogs | Through the looking glass

Who: Billy Kaplan and OPEN
Where: Mirror Side
When: Starting 12/15 until the end of the event
Rating: PG13 - R?
Summary: Billy's mirror switches sides and Billy is stuck on the mirror side with the jabberwocky on the loose.
The Story:

It's a strange occurrence, to blink and suddenly be on a different side of the mirror. It took Billy a minute to recognize that's what happened but he sees his room in the mirror not his reflection. A quick look around at his dull gray surroundings and he knows, it's happened again. He can't help but wonder why, last time it was because the Queen ordered them to switch, did she do that again? Or was his mirror just being an asshole.

Not wanting to stay in his mirror's room, who knows what mirrors drop by frequently to look for him, he scrawls a note on the mirror to Teddy, hopefully he sees it before someone else does and wipes it away.

T, I'm on the mirrorside again. I don't know what's going on yet. Don't trust him/me. <3 B

Satisfied he heads cautiously out into the hallway hoping he doesn't run into trouble. An indiscernible time later that same mirror will be splattered with blood. Whose blood it is is unclear.

[OOC: Billy will most likely be getting nom'd and his memories erased. Please specify if you want Billy before or after this happens. I'm up for either scenario.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh shit. His own fear is just as palpable as Billy's, but that's not a productive feeling. It's paralyzing and a waste of useful energy. You know what's just as unproductive, but makes you feel so much better? Taunts.

"Whoa, heya there, sunshine!" Man, what an ugly fucker. Big too. As impressed as Bucky is by this little magic trick Billy's thrown up, he can't imagine he can keep this thing at bay long enough for it to get bored or expect back up. That just isn't happening, but if the kid's going to be defense then he's happy to be the offense. "Let's fix that face of yours." He pulls a knife and throws it without much thought to how bad an idea this might be. The force field might catch it, or he may just piss the thing off more. He's got to try. Thankfully it flies through the field and he would hope takes point in one of those eyes. If they can blind it, then they can win this.

Two snacks it spies, after two snacks it snaps. Only its snout slams into something else instead. The Jabberwock jerkily tilts its head sideways. Something sharp slices past its ear. No matter. It doesn't think to look back, its yellow eyes instead gazing intently at the blue glow in front.

The Jabberwock snarls. Bares all fangs. This time it doesn't think to snap.

It sucks in the air instead, a breeze, a vacuum, a hurricane. The blue barrier between them flickers, flickers, and shatters into frantic pieces of smoke, which disappear between the creature's teeth in an instant.

Then the Jabberwock itself flickers in return, and its silver hide cracks, revealing shiny skin, all new.

The Jabberwock glows, crackling blue and so, so hungry.

Well, fuck

It ate his sheild. There was no way to fight it and win.

They were screwed. It had backed them into a room, the only exit behind the beast. If he distracted it Bucky could probably escape. At least one of them could get away to warn the others.

"If I distract it do you think you can make it out the door?" He channeled his energy into his hands, lightening crackling at his fingertips.

Took the introspection right out of his mind. Bucky's racking his brain for a good Plan B here. Billy's certainly wouldn't be his next option or even his 26th.

"The only way I'm leaving is with you in toe!" Don't be melodramatic yet, kid! "But you distract it, and I can try taking it down." Running is not an option with Bucky. It's a last ditch effort that happens only after about three ribs are broken and he can't lift an arm or either arms, and generally someone still has to forcibly drag him away. They should at least try and stop it before anyone else gets hurt by it.

The Jabberwock understands that such tense situations can lead to stress and indecision. It closes its mouth patiently, and curls up in a circle to wait for its prey to have come to an unanimous decision.

Just kidding.

That shield tasted delicious. The lightning that crackles from the boy's hands in the same blue looks even more so.

The Jabberwock rears up like a massive, apocalyptic horse with scales, and lunges at Billy.

It happens so fast Billy has no time to react. He's about to blast it again when it attacks, lunging up and knocking Billy back. He stumbles into Bucky sending them both sprawling onto the floor. He turns quickly, ready to blast the thing with another round of magic but he's too late, too slow.

The Jabberwock's claws descend in full size and sharpness, draping themselves across the boy like a blanket woven from deathly scythes. They pin him to the floor underneath, but not a single drop of blood flows. This is a Real thing, and something more valuable than blood flows through it.

Not red liquid, but a silver mist, which rises from Billy's head as the Jabberwock opens its jaws wide. Sharper and sharper it sucks in air, and with the air thread after thread of memories swirl away, through mouth and nose and eyes and ears; strand by strand gathering in a shimmering, liquid fog.

Restlessly the silver sight dances for a beat. Then the Jabberwock snaps at it, and devours it whole.

He can't move, and he can't scream, all he can do is stare up at the thing and realize that this is it, he's going to die. Only theres no pain, no death, just a tug, a pulling in the pit of his stomach and from his head. He sees the silver mist as it starts to swirl and his last thought is of Teddy before everything goes black and he knows no more.

Everything's happening way too fast. One minute they have a plan (and goddamnit, there's always time for quick, but intricately laid plans in times like these! This bastard's breaking universal rules here!), the next he's on his back with the Billy's weight, and this creature.

"Billy!" he shouts, but it's a waste of breath. Neither of them can get up and yelling isn't keeping the kid's soul or essence or whatever from being drawn into that hungry maw. He pulls at heavy arms, but it has about the same effect: nothing. This is really not going to end well, is it? He can hear the frantic beat of his own heart, the deafening pulse of his blood. This is worst-case scenario and isn't he trained for that? Isn't there always something to do, to fight?

All he's got left is one last knife, but there's no point in saving it. Bucky hurls it numbly at the beast, hoping he'll get it to at least back off long enough to pull Billy out.

Strands of memories crunch softly between the Jabberwock's jaws, and it tastes the bittersweet tang of time on its tongue. Greedily it licks every last second from its teeth, and finishes the course with a roar which already hungers for more.

Only that very instant is neither sweet nor bitter entirely; it stings sharply, almost exactly like a knife thrown hard and fast at the roof of the Jabberwock's mouth, just as it opened wide.

Again the beast roars and snarls, only now in anger. A minor pain, a major inconvenience; a thing it can neither swallow nor shake. The Jabberwock whips its head from side to side, trying to dislodge the blade.

Through the looking glass

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wow I'm sorry Billy

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