'Tis rather inconvenient like this. +

[vitaelamorte]

Who: You! !oot ,uoy dnA
Where: Wonderland, both Real and Mirror side
When: June 3 to June 10
Rating: PG-13, will vary by thread, warnings for higher ratings appreciated
Summary: A catch-all log for Mirrors and Reals during the reverse espionage event. Anything from Mirrors leading their daily lives, over Reals reacting to the show, to Reals and Mirrors exchanging messages goes here. Just label your locations and sides accordingly!
The Story:

Your own medicine is worth twice the sweetness in the bush, that is what they say! Here is my plan, now make sure you listen well, or you get it wrong, and then I would need to pair you all up, for only two even wrongs set my head back on right, and we've no time for such things, no time at all, do we?

As mighty as the sharpest blade, as stout as the hardest shield, a spool of thread woven from hearts of gold. It must exist, and I must have it! She'll do worse to my head if I search, but you'll help, won't you? I will let you see, and you will be my eyes! All good things come tomorrow - then I'll let you see, and you'll be my eyes, and when it's all done you'll use your own mouths to tell my personal ears all you know, won't you?

All of Wonderland's mirrors are suddenly working in reverse. The Real side can see everything, and the Mirror side is left with nothing but their own reflections. Details of the event can be found here.

Comments

"robyn cousland" ; mirror side ; cw for body horror in icons

[animositas]

[ You may not even notice her. Whether on the Mirror side or peeking through the glassy surfaces on the Real side, the small, quiet girl goes relatively unseen, like a shadow out of the corner of your eye. If you do realize she's there, though, you may not be inclined to look for long, and certainly not to get close, because her gray skin is lined with inky veins. Her eyes are almost milky, though she isn't yet blind. Her lips are more often revealing of a mixture of black taint and red blood at their corners than not.

Her name is Robyn Cousland, or, at least, the poisoned version of the Real one. She doesn't speak to many people, but when she does, there's a childlike curiosity to her interactions and she seems a little younger than her "twenty two." She edges into conversations, always on the fringes, watching wide-eyed, listening intently. Some people seem to have such nice lives, even within the ranks of the Mirrors, and her dying heart aches for just a little bit of that sweetness that she'd never had and would never have. The darkspawn taint burns in her body, but she doesn't transform, doesn't die. She is a Mirror cruelly made and stuck in a painful interim without any purpose, save for the Queen's.

It's all she has. So, she drifts like a specter, waiting for their next mission, occasionally to be heard breathing misremembered lines of the Chant of Light. ]


( ooc ; feel free to get her attention by writing on a nearby mirror! also, the Real Robyn is available to play with via a starter of your own! )

mirror writing;

[morework]

[ He wants to avoid the mirrors for what they show, and the mansion for housing those windows into their nightmares altogether. But he can't allow himself to pass on the information, even if he seeks them in places where he desperately hopes that he will not see himself again.

The sight in the corner of his vision is hardly so much better, not when it almost has him draw his sword before- before he realises that the glass separates them. Before he looks closer. Before he hears her struggling with familiar words, quietly stuck and, he thinks, no longer remembering the ones that follow.

Cullen frowns, unsure. Then he steps quickly to the nearest closet, and demands a small brush. ]

You have seen me when no other would recognize my face,
You composed the cadence of my heart,

[ he finishes for her with black paint on glass. Not an unsuitable line, and all the worse for it. He steps back, and waits for her reaction, if... there should be any reaction at all. ]

"ellie" ; mirror side ; cw for language

[shived]

[ There is a girl in her early teens who stalks the halls, more animal than human. Ellie's Mirror is a wolf of a kid who seems to always have more weapons on her person than anyone might need in "peacetime" on their side of the mirrors. All the same, she takes to following people at a distance and then cutting away when they notice her, to nicking little objects from the others' rooms (on both sides, when she gets the chance), and to spray-painting messages on the walls of the hallways. One such message is "NOT SAFE HERE," in case anyone has illusions about that particular fact.

When the tides turn and they can see themselves, she pays little attention to her own reflection. Instead, she slinks around from room to empty room, avoiding people pointedly and trying at the same time not to catch any glimpse of her gaunt, dead-eyed expression. You may catch her trying to take something from your room, or even from your person, if she can get close enough to pick-pocket. Ellie's Mirror is a survivalist, caring entirely for no one but herself in the way of someone who has seen the end and knows (or thinks) that nothing really matters anymore. ]


( ooc ; feel free to get her attention by writing on a nearby mirror! also, the Real Ellie is available to play with via a starter of your own! )

"Max" | Hope this is okay!

[dodged_and_burned]

[The hallway is quiet except for the sound of the spray-paint.

And the sound of Max jumping out from the room next to Ellie, a raptor mask on, screaming at the top of her lungs.]

ROOOOOARRR!!!

[[OOC: Are you okay with time travel stuff? :) I dunno if you know but Max has time travel powers.]]

"snow white" ; mirror side

[snowfallen]

[ There is a beautiful woman on the other side of the mirrors who is not at all afraid to show her face. In fact, though her expression and mannerisms are aloof and vaguely disgusted, she seems to make a point of showing her face, particularly to herself via her reflection. The fairy tale is turned somewhat on its head as Snow White's Mirror spends as much time as she can preening, admiring the face that she sees so infrequently. When she isn't doing that, she's content to sit in the tea rooms with a glass of a dark, dry red wine, occasionally engaging in conversation with other Mirrors... until they seem to be remotely vapid, after which she drops the talk and puts up a wall of stony silence.

Snow's Mirror thinks of the Reals almost like silly, little children (which is the way she sees most of the Mirrors, too, honestly), so she's happy to speak with them if their writing appears nearby. Things have apparently begun to change and, considering that it's the most interesting thing to happen in a while, she seems particularly restless and attentive once the mirrors switch their views, taking careful note of any other transitions and calculating it all as it happens. ]


( ooc ; feel free to get her attention by writing on a nearby mirror! also, the Real Snow is available to play with via a starter of your own! )

so so late

[belovedson]

It might just be the worst thing he could do.

Neal hasn't been watching the mirrors too hard since what they showed has gotten reversed. He's got just enough experience with them to know the vast majority aren't out to help anyone but themselves, and that's putting it nicely. Until something else gets revealed—or worse, the mirrors get permission to cross over—all he can do is keep an eye out on the Real side, especially since his heart possesses an actual heart of gold.

So he's got all the best intentions in mind when he walks by the wrong mirror at the wrong time, and sees a figure so familiar and completely not, perched on a chair with a glass of wine in hand. Neal stops in his tracks when he realizes he's looking at Snow's doppleganger, her Wonderland-brand opposite that no doubt embodies a mess of traits he's bound not to like. He's trusted the Real Snow White almost from the start, from their first conversation when they'd figured out they were both from fairytell realms. So it stands to reason he shouldn't believe a word this version says, that nothing she might offer could do him any good when it comes to protecting his family.

And yet...and yet.

He knows it's a dumb idea even as he gets a marker, but the waiting is driving him pretty nuts already. Maybe the mirrors know something, maybe they don't. But there's a chance talking to one of them might give some sort of hint, right? And whatever they've got to say, it's got to be clearer than the Duchess's rambling.

"Thought you'd be busy." A simple message, written in slowly since reversing all the letters isn't the easiest thing. After a pause, Neal tacks on two more words to his note, writing out his name just to try and get her attention. Elphaba's mirror had taken an interest in him, after all. Maybe it'll be the same this time. If Neal's really going to do this, he might as well make it count, and that means trying to convince this version of Snow to talk to him.

"sam winchester" ; mirror side

[infernalis]

[ It's unnerving to be seen and not to see. That's how Sam Winchester's Mirror views this change of the state of things, finding it deeply unsettling to know that the Reals can look in on their lives as they please rather than the other way around. He tries to remedy this with showy smirks and by murmuring inappropriate nothings into the mirrors that he comes across, but it only assuages his unease so much. Despite that, he's careful not to let it show (much) and generally goes about things in his normal way: that is, in great excess. ]

Ever get the feeling you're being watched? [ He remarks, seemingly amused, to a nearby Mirror. ] Hope they enjoy the show while they've got tickets.

[ He certainly will (or, really, will pretend as if he is). Sam's Mirror intends on giving them an eyeful while the Mirror side has the spotlight. The usual debauchery is just enough to keep things from getting too stale on their side, but knowing that some of the woefully Good originals might catch sight of it is at least marginally more thrilling. If his own Real sees what his Mirror is up to and feels the need to bleach his eyes, then all the better. ]

Care for a drink? [ He asks, forever the pseudo-gentleman in pursuit of a good time. Or something. ]


( ooc ; feel free to get her attention by writing on a nearby mirror! also, the Real Sam is available to play with via a starter of your own! )

[fatalistics]

Why not? [Elizabeth hops down from her stool and pulls it closer to join him, crossing one leg over the other.] They've taken away my other entertainment, after all.

mirror!Frisk | mirror side | cw for self-harm

[dustiest]

Frisk never makes it obvious when they cast their gaze over the mirrors, hoping (or rather, not hoping) to spy their supremely, irritatingly boring counterpart. They're not pleased, however, to discover that looking in any reflective surface yields nothing more than their slightly sunken-eyed, underwhelming face.

So something's changed.

Their fist punches in through the glass, shattering it. Pinwheeling shards bite into their skin greedily. They flick droplets of blood from their fingertips easily, as though it were little more than water, as though it doesn't sting. It doesn't scare them. Nothing scares them.

Frisk cuts through their false mansion, boiling with indignation and frustration, swelling with a righteous energy they don't know how to release. Soon they find themselves writing on every mirrored surface they can reach, defacing it with great scrawling red letters:

* BUT NOBODY CAME.
You'll never hear them shout, or rage, or scream. But Frisk is making their displeasure well and truly known. They're looking for something through which they can vent their frustrations - and they have a vague idea as to where they should start.

[undetermined]

Chara can already tell that they are not going to have a very nice time with this event. Call it a gut feeling.

They've been slowly closing in on the trail of defaced mirrors, furiously scrubbing away each message as they find them. Red isn't Frisk's color. Those aren't Frisk's words. They think about saying so, about finding Frisk and saying something so sharp and devastating that they stop immediately, and the daydream is equal parts thrilling and frightening.

It leaves their head immediately when they finally catch up to Frisk, though, wiped out by the intimidating aura of frustration roiling off of them. Oh! Gee! They, uh. They're definitely not happy, huh. Chara immediately considers turning and leaving, but... but misery loves company, right? Maybe they can cheer Frisk up. Maybe this won't be so bad if Chara has someone to duck behind.

"Um," they begin, usefully. "Your - your hand," they finish, gesturing with wide eyes. You know, in case Frisk just hadn't noticed they'd gone and sliced it up. A common mistake, surely.

mirror!Alex | mirror side | will match formats

[astigmatism]

Alex seems decidedly unconcerned by this bizarre turn of events. He's simply lounging idly in the library, hands folded behind his head, having made little to no effort to discern what might have shifted the balance of his world. It doesn't particularly matter, does it? They're all playthings for a larger cosmic force. Sometimes it wears a different name, or a different face, but that's just how his story always goes. He doesn't terribly mind it. Not these days.

"Now," he says aloud, commenting to the ceiling, "this is a story."

He grins in a vague, unconcerned manner, like it's a private joke.

"All about how my life got flipped."

He glances at the nearest mirror, amusement twitching the corners of his lips.

"Turned upside down."

If anyone gets his attention, Alex will quite happily respond in turn. He's a rather unassuming fellow, though perhaps a little less skittish and angry and reserved than his Real counterpart.

[brainleak]

[River doesn't get the reference. Too old for her. She also can't read his mind. Her power doesn't seem to reach through the looking glass. Which is interesting. Distance has never been a factor before.

The sheer fact she knows nothing about him is enough to catch her attention.

She watches him for a while. He doesn't seem to be doing much.

She pulls out a large red marker and writes.]

Hows the weather there

bonnie bennett | ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ | ota

[exprimere]

[ darkness surrounds the bonnie on the other side.

at first, glimpses of this woman are brief: a face that hardens into a deep scowl before the view is curtained with stray scarves or coated with ash that dances out of the fireplace at a flick of her wrist. the dark even envelops noise; and this witch needs no words with which to cast.

but someone keeps hiding new mirrors around her, and it's taking longer and longer for her to notice. longer and longer for her shame and guilt to build before she finds some way to block out the view of her own face in place of the baby witch who lives with hope in the heart she wears on her sleeve.

there's always ash in the hearth, but never a fire. the remnants of life hang from the ceiling, and in jars around a room lit only by candles. over the days, more and more little glimpses into bonnie's dark world crop up, until she turns from a spell to face herself in the giant mirror that seemly appeared behind her from nowhere. ]

Elena.

[ she blinks, mouth falling open in a moment of heart-rending shock. blink and you'll miss as her face contorts into rage and fear, and her hands fall open on each side of her body, rigid with energy. cracks spider out from the center of every mirror, candles and what few light bulbs are in the room flare. and then, a moment of calm before the storm, she breathes.

glass explodes. the lights die. ]

( ooc | open to mirror chats, mirror side action, real side reactions; anything goes. will match format! )

[interpersonal]

[ she'd already felt paranoia over the mirrors. one incident with bonnie's mirror in particular left her raw; rattled. she'd forced it out of her mind, aware there was little she could do. now ... now she realizes just how vulnerable and exposed they are to the other side and she can no longer compartmentalize.

she can no longer pretend she doesn't see. hear. elena, bonnie(?) says, unlike she has ever said it.

the smoke dispels and suddenly there is nothing, but elena remains rooted in place, just in case there is more to see. ]

peridot | real side

[slapfight]

[Through the course of this week, one would be hard-pressed to find the Real Peridot not balled up in front of a mirror with her knees against her chest, staring at the surface with expressions that vary from rage to jealousy to a certain kind of sadness that seems to only deepen as the week goes on.

the cause of this behavior is pretty clear if you take a peek at the mirror- the gem she's observing is most definitely a Peridot just like her, only with... certain enhancements. the Mirror!Peridot is mostly grumbling to herself and repeatedly going over things on her screens, sometimes barking soundlessly at other Mirrors who encroach upon her space. at no point does the Real Peridot attempt to get her attention through writing on the mirror and the Mirror doesn't seem to care that she's probably being watched.

and yet... the Real One can't tear her eyes away, and even on the off-chance that she can be distracted enough to walk away, she always comes back when she sees that flash of green in her periphery.]

Greg | Real side

[drummeintheface]

[Greg's been watching SO MANY NEW SHOWS lately. He's just gotten tired of one and moved on to something new when he spots the green triangle who's all curled up on the floor in the dining room in front of another show.]

Hey! Is this one scary? Are you scared?

faith lehane | ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ | ota

[justasvicious]

[ leather. leather is the most obvious difference about the faith that lives through the looking glass. well, that and it looks like she actually runs a brush through her hair.

she still saunters, and leans, and looks like she doesn't care. not about the sad excuse for a vampire that's supposed to be her sire. about the fact that she missed out on the version of him that isn't a pathetic waste of space. not about the fact that she died in the city of angels, trying to play at hero.

instead, she'll stand before the mirror and purse her lips and draw her lipstick from corner to corner. from her side, there's no one looking back in the reflection. but she drops the cap and presses the soft stain to the surface of the glass, writing in sloppy print: ]

ＳＨＥ'Ｓ Ａ ＬＩＡＲ

[ her smile looks more like a threat than an invitation. ]

( ooc | open to mirror chats, mirror side action, real side reactions; anything goes. will match format! )

[interpersonal]

[ n...o, this will never get any less weird. but can elena ignore the potential of this opportunity? ]

the queen? [ is that who faith means? ]

Rose ][ Real Side

[littledhampir]

[Once you realize what your mirror persona is supposed to be? Somebody who has spent their whole life training to kill Strigoi - Soulless, blood-thirsty killing machines - would understandably be a little concerned that their mirror self might be a red eyed monster who was eating her way through alterna-land at the Queen's behest.

While there's a part of Rose that doesn't relish the idea of seeing her worst nightmare come to life. The morbid, arguably twisted side of her can't help but be drawn to the mirrors. Trying in vain to catch even a glimpse of her elusive doppelganger.

It will take a few days before the Rose on the other side, drops her guard enough to forget that this one could be watching and if anyone happens to be present for that unfortunate event? They'll find an incredulous brunette, yelling abuse at a mirror as if she's screaming at the Queen herself.]

...bad enough that you have to make me a nerd but a Moroi?! This is bullsh-

[As much as she'd like to reject everything that her Mirror is, Rose can't quite bring herself to walk away and while many may have overheard her proclamations that she could care less about what her Doppelganger is up to? They'd also notice that Rose can be found observing her more often than would suggest disinterest. Usually pacing back and forth as she quietly fights against years of training to not try and punch her way through to the other side.]

(Mirror!Rose can make appearances depending on where the thread goes!)

Bucky | real

[readytocomply]

[Bucky doesn't look in the mirror, not after the first time. It's as if everything that he's afraid of becoming, everything he thinks he might be, is reflected right there for everyone to see. He watches at first, the way that version of himself is cruel because he chooses to be, he wants to be. Not because anyone's made him that way, but because he likes it.

It makes Bucky sick and he stops looking.

He takes a walk to get his head on straight, stopping only when he notices the woman yelling at a mirror. Something's going on and Bucky wants to know what it is. He'll need to find Steve soon.]

You alright?

ᴇʟᴇɴᴀ ɢɪʟʙᴇʀᴛ ↳ ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ ↳ ᴏᴛᴀ

[hardpower]

( elena gilbert's Mirror looks different to the Real thing.

the changes are slight, but they're deliberate: from the glossy dark waves that tumble past her shoulders to the high heel boots that round out her stylish outfit, this is a young woman who carries herself with defiance and — dare we say it — a carefree nature. she is unburdened, unlike her melancholic counterpart. if she's unnerved by the mirrors going freaky friday on them, she doesn't show it. her strut is decidedly playful as she goes about her day. one might even think she's harmless and having a grand ol' time.

until, that is, she starts to grow bored.

in the blink of an eye, she disappears from view. stillness surrounds the hallway she has chosen to prowl. and then, faster than the human eye can see, m!elena returns in a blur. she stops right in front of the mirror, nose nearly brushing against the glass. her face has contorted into something deadly. it's only then m!elena bares her fangs, a snarl torn from her throat. she lunges toward the mirror (toward you), as though she has every intention of crossing over... but nothing happens. she remains in place. )

Boo.

( blood drips from her jaw. you'll never guess whose. laughter echoes across the hallway as she retreats once more. )


ooc open to mirror and real side interactions; will set up individual logs; pm/plurk me as needed!

[goeth]

[ she can't help it. bonnie's always felt like her curiosity and elena's complement each other. that elena's drive to know matched up with bonnie's drive to do. it's just that to do first, she has to know.

and so she watches. ]

"river" | mirror side | ota

[telepathophobia]

[It's hypocritical. She knows it.

She's not even looking into the mirror when, out of the corner of her eye, she sees someone familiar. Is it her Real gazing at mirrors again? She turns to face it and she sees... herself. Jeans, hoodie, hair a mess but not as much as the other River's. It's the first time she's ever seen it. She approaches her reflection, entranced.

No. She knows what this means. She's being watched. They're all watching her now.

She stumbles away from her reflection as if it's suddenly become horrifying. She's breathing hard, hand clutching at her chest. She glances around, looking for something, anything. A nearby end table.

She grabs the table and smashes it into the mirror, shattering it into pieces. She finds the next one down and smashes that one, too. She keeps going with new mirrors until the end table is nothing but a table leg and there are glass shards embedded in her arms. She falls to her knees, gasping.

She curls up, her breathing starts to slow. She knows it's hypocritical.

She can still feel eyes on her. She knows those ones are fake. She hides her face between her knees.]

Real Max

[mypartnerintime]

[Words in black marker slowly appear on a nearby mirror. This might not be the smartest thing- this mirror-person just spent a lot of time destroying things, and she's obviously upset.

But Max is curious, too. And she wants to help, even if it's just a few comforting words.]

Are you okay? What's wrong?

ray palmer | ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ | cw: blood, implied sexual violence

[latersbaby]

Mirror, mirror, on the wall...

[ oops wrong one! ray's laugh and the smile that follows is sharp. the mania? well that's normal. but the flecks of blood across his face and bare chest isn't. he admires his own panting and flushed image in the mirror, and then turns away from it to talk to someone out of view. ray's hands run up over the buttons of his crisp white shirt to deftly unfasten the rest of them one by one with care. ]

Wow. This thing really buffed out nicely. Guess that second round wasn't really necessary.

[ whoops again! allow him to casually wipe the blood away with someone's delicate white lace shirt. despite his genial tone, ray's eyes grow distant, roving over the reflection before him like he's hoping for the normal view to return. if he could just reach through... oh right. he has guests. ]

Where were we? [ there's a light rap to his right, and ray's face smoothes into stone. His mouth forms a firm line, eyes falling shut as he drags in a deep breath through his nostrils. the knock comes again, and he reaches to cover his mirror with the bloody lace, and the sound a of a door open and slamming muffles the words as he begins to yell.

it's hip to be square. ]

( ooc | open to mirror chats, mirror side action, real side reactions; anything goes. will match format! )

→ darcy | cw: obsessive sadistic stalkery grossness

[latersbaby]

[ he wants her to see him, wants her to watch the way he's been watching her for months now. his nerves had been on fire when the mirrors flipped; the lack of control slowly stripping away his meticulously-crafted exterior. he hadn't been ready for this yet, for being exposed like this.

now that's he's washed up after some quality time with her mirror, he feels better.

enough that he's talking aloud again, and he almost sounds happy. music plays softly in the background as he sits directly in front of a full-legth mirror, hair put back perfectly in place and tie tightened up against his adam's apple. ]

I'm not even sure if you're listening-- do you like Arcade Fire? What am I talking about, of course you do. [ oh he loves this part, and sings along: ] ♫ I carved your name across my eyelids... ♪ Mm. So corporeal. And the end? You have to appreciate the value of deftly-wielded disco.

leliana, mirror side.

[cutenug]

[ at first blush, leliana's mirror doesn't seem all that different from the actual leliana. less armor, longer hair pulled up into an artfully messy style, more weapons... but nothing immediately horrifying. no fits of rage or murderous streaks. just an odd sense of ease and a smile like the edge of the knife.

with more observation, the differences become more and more apparent. this leliana is not at all friendly, despite her quick smiles and the way she flirts with the more approachable people on the mirror side. (and, let's be honest, some of the less approachable too, if it'll get her some enjoyment out of it.) she bites with her words, toys with her little knives in a passively threatening manner a fair amount of time, and watches her other mirror counterparts, searching for weaknesses she can exploit. those who inhabit the mirror side know this is nothing new. there's just less of her watching the mirrors now that she can only see her own reflection.

and, perhaps most surprising of all, she seems fairly comfortable in front of the mirrors. she flashes them curious looks as she passes, checking for messages. when she bathes and, later, when she goes for a dip in the pool, she winks at the mirror and writes: ]

Enjoying the show?

[ ooc: open for mirror side shenanigans, mirror writing, and real side stuff if you've a starter you want to roll with! ]

!RORRIM

[handiest]

( he finds all the exposed mirrors rather troubling. it simply won't do, to have the other side peering in. the mirror side is the Queen's realm, and he feels responsible for doing what he can to keep secret things kept secret. he breaks most mirrors if he sees them, even if they'll repair themselves on the hour or even less, on occasion. it's tireless work, yet he doesn't seem to mind it. of course he doesn't; what wouldn't he do for the Queen?

it's only after he shatters a particularly imposing one that he notices he's not alone. the leftenant plucks off the glove that he'd used to protect his hand, one finger at a time, offering his company an uncertain smile. )

My apologies, my lady. I hope I didn't disturb you.

( anyone on this side of the metaphorical fence is used to the sound of shattered glass, he supposes... still, it's simply proper to apologize for disturbing someone. especially a lady. )

Jane | real side

[endingpoint]

[Jane hasn't left her room or her spot from in front of her mirror. Since arriving, nothing weird has happened, nothing out of the ordinary as far as the place goes. She's just, simply, been here. Then the message had come, and she didn't know what it meant, and now she can see through her mirror. She can see herself. A not-tattooed (well, there are three or four visible) version of herself. It turns out, her mirror has no interest in talking, so if Jane wants to see more, she needs more access points.

That's what has her wandering the mansion, looking through different reflective surfaces, hoping to talk with one that's friendly-ish enough.]

"Chara" | Mirror | OTA

[undetermined]

[Wow! Chara hates this.

They don't want to look at the vile thing in the mirror. It looks horrible. They don't want to believe that's them. They don't like not knowing if people are watching them. They don't like losing the ability to watch everyone on the real side, to see them all being so nice, so happy, so... like they belong.

They feel thoroughly cut off from the world.

Enough so that it pushes them to stop avoiding the mirrors before long. They start to pick mirrors at random, never actually looking high enough to meet their own eyes, writing semi-desperate greetings to the void in the narrow hope that maybe someone on the other side will answer, that maybe they'll find someone friendly to make this all feel a little better.]

* Howdy! =)
* Is anyone there?

[punful]

[He spots it in a hallway. Ugh, more red letters? Only it's...Chara this time. Red words from Chara makes more sense.]

[He should probably just leave this alone but...that morbid curiosity again. Knowing Chara, their Mirror must be...pretty weird, right?]

guess who?

darcy » мιrror and real ѕιde | oтa - wιll мaтcн ѕтyle | warnιngѕ ιn cloѕed ѕтarтe

[taserless]

[ It was strange, seeing her reflection - knowing that the reals could probably see her. She didn't like it - the idea of being watched. There was a reason she tried to respect the Reals's privacy as much as possible. When she has to cross in front of one, her head is down, arms wrapped tightly around herself. She couldn't make herself invisible, but she could certainly try and make herself appear as small as possible. There's a glint of white and gold around her wrist, but otherwise nothing remarkable.

If a message catches her eye, she'll write back, try to give what info she can without being caught. Answer questions, try and use the now reflective surface to keep an eye over her shoulder for one of the many dangers roaming the halls behind her.

Meanwhile, on the real side, Darcy is doing her best to avoid watching what's happening - fixating on it like a weird soap opera. There were some things she didn't need to see, reminders she could do without. She was jumpier than normal, waiting for the other shoe to drop. For this to turn into something more than it was right now. She can be found sticking close to familiar and trusted faces, people who know what happened the last time her paths crossed with a mirror. She'll continue to split her time between the lab, the coffee shop, and the 7th floor - although the 7th floor dominates the majority of that time. While in the coffee shop, she's somewhat distracted - already wanting to turn the stainless steel into just black wood. You might need to repeat your order if you're making one, sorry. They weren't kidding about reflective surfaces being their own personal tvs. It made her stomach turn a little with the idea that someone had been watching her through them before.

Dear Wonderland, please don't do that crappy thing where you send shit flying into the fan. ]

cloѕed тo м!ray | cw: darĸ and ѕeхυal тнeмeѕ, creeper мιrrorѕ, wιll υpdaтe ιғ мo

[taserless]

[ She had a problem. She had a problem and she wasn't sure who she could go to for help. She'd gotten away on the premise of going down to the kitchen to get them something to eat - she needed to stick to the path as best she could. Even if her heart was jumping out of her throat and her stomach turned with every step. Her casual attempt to get the bracelet off had failed, it needed something stronger. A key she didn't have.

She grabs the first thing she can find that might work without cutting herself up to badly - a butter knife. She needed to try to use leverage, palming it before heading back out. Darcy was so focused on keeping her steps even, on not pointlessly running and drawing attention, that she doesn't even notice there's someone in her path until it's too late and she's connecting hard with a firm chest.

There's an immediate panic bubbling over, words stuttering out before she can even look up. ]

O-oh my gosh. I'm so s- so sorr - [ Give her a sec for the recognition to set in. ] Ray?

Kay | Real Side | OTA

[tattooedredheads]

Kay had read about the mirrors over the network. He'd even examined tried to peer through the mirrors only to see his own reflection. But this is very interesting.

When he spots someone behind a mirror, he taps on it to grab their attention. Then he scribbles on the mirror.]

Hey! Nice to meet ya!

mirror writing

[astigmatism]

[This version of Alex looks like a fairly ordinary person. And he is, most of the time. Not the paranoia-ridden wreck of his Real. He lounges, he sits, he speculates, he doesn't seem horribly concerned that he's on complete and total display for the Real Side. Nothing to hide here, right?

So hell, why not answer?

He eyes the writing on the mirror with vague interest, then uncoils from his sitting position to address it directly.]

Heya.

mirror!sans | mirrorside/mirror writing | ota (mirror writing will be in wingdings)

[serifsans]

[It doesn't take him long to realize what's happening. He's always had an analytical mind, but it really doesn't take much in the way of smarts to figure this all out. The surfaces have all gone opaque, not cracked. His stupid Real always kept his mirror shattered, like a clever little Real, but now! Oho! When the tables are turned it seems the Real Sans is just as voyeuristic. Likes to watch, doesn't he? But ha! Sans isn't surprised. All the Real Sans ever does is watch, right? And now he's let his mirror repair itself so he can watch again, so he can see. Thinks he can taunt his Mirror, does he?]

[At first it's like a game, a nasty, unfair little game. If Real Sans wants to watch, then Mirror Sans can indulge him, right? Put on a real show. He leaves messages in capitalized wingdings, imagines the uncomfortable look on his Real's face at the symbols, the flinch, like the first few times he wrote to him.]

ENJOYING THE SHOW, TRASHBAG?

[He can be smug. Can keep on keeping on because he's still the one with the power, he knows he is. Even if he can't see his awful Real. He makes sure the metal plate on his hand is in full view at all times, makes sure his Real can see the letters and numbers WDG S-01. That ought to make him freak out. Right?]

kind of boring. too bad i can't change the channel. you're awful proud of that plate, huh? really flaunting it.

OF COURSE. WHY WOULDN'T I BE? IT'S PROOF THAT I'M A THOUSAND TIMES MORE REAL THAN YOU'LL EVER BE. AND I'M NOT EVEN REAL! THAT'S FUNNY, RIGHT? THAT'S THE KIND OF JOKE YOU LIKE.

nah, too cerebral for me. kind of hard to get that sorta humor without a cerebrum right?

[It's so annoying. He can't even see his Real's reactions, can't see if this smug nonchalance is real or not. Sans-es are good at controlling their expressions, but the Mirror knows his own face, knows his Real's tells. Sure, fine! His shitty Real can be smug all he wants.]

RIGHT! EVERYTHING'S A JOKE TO YOU. WAS IT A JOKE WHEN YOU LET PAPYRUS DIE AGAIN? HAHA! DON'T THINK I DIDN'T FIND OUT ABOUT THAT. DON'T THINK I DIDN'T SEE YOU ALL WHEN HE CAME BACK! THIS IS WHY IT SHOULD BE ME OVER THERE. THIS IS WHY IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR EVERYONE IF YOU JUST DIED. PAPYRUS DESERVES A MORE REAL SANS THAN YOU.

[He presses his plate against the glass and grins to prove it. But the response comes almost right away.]

yeah, you're real concerned about paps. that must be why you messaged him to make sure he was okay after it happened, huh? only...hm. you didn't do that, did you? too busy thinking of how to use it to get back at me. it's funny. you must think paps is pretty stupid. do you honestly believe he wouldn't see that that plate is just as fake as the rest of you?

[He grits his teeth. Snarls at the glass. Fires back with something scathing. And the Real Sans just keeps his cool, or appears to, shutting him down at every turn, belittling him, calling him fake. It shouldn't bother him. Shouldn't matter. But it does. It's infuriating. It's insufferable, imagining that smug grin.]

[He can't keep it up. Can't keep his cool. Gaster Blaster's the mirror into powder, and hey, maybe seeing a Blaster from the front, aiming right for him and firing, maybe that will be the jolt that gets his disgusting Real to shut up, to take him seriously. But it doesn't matter, because now he's just furious.]

[He stalks the mansion, throwing bones into every mirror he sees. Sometimes he leaves messages before he does, wondering if anyone will see. Wondering if the trashbag is following him. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, the Real Papyrus will see and stop to talk.]

[That would make this shitty event actually bearable.]

[garderoyale]

[Undyne's Mirror just so happens to be passing by, head held high, when an innocuous mirror splinters. She's been hearing quite a few crashes today, but it's her first time catching someone in the act; and oh, it's Sans playing with bones. She makes a show of kicking aside some stray glass with her heel, like she's very put off by his behavior. Though the hint of an amused smirk on her lips implies otherwise.]

Do you really have so much to hide? You just look like you're throwing a tantrum.

mirror!rick | mirrorside/mirror writing | ota

[niceandhelpful]

[Golly, it's a Mirror event! These are always so fun! At least he thinks they must be fun--this is only the second one since he was created, and that first one...wellll, it wasn't very pleasant. Lots of lizards and...cannibalization and...almost dying. Not pleasant. Totally un-fun.]

[This isn't so bad though. It's like a role reversal! He waves cheerily into every mirror he sees. Finally, the Reals can see them all! And if Mirror Rick just acts positive and is himself, then the Reals will see that not all Mirrors are bad. Some of them are nice and helpful!]

[In fact, he'll be going around leaving messages on all the mirrors he sees with things like:]

Hello! Do you have any questions about the Mirrorside? I'd be happy to answer!

Hello! I bet you look nice today!

Hello from the Mirrorside! This is a crazy random happenstance, isn't it?

Hello! I just want you to know that the universe loves you and is rooting for you!

Hello! Did you know that it takes more muscles to frown than to smile? It's a scientific fact!

[Positivity! It's sure to help out some of the Reals, who must be pretty confused about all this. They're a smart bunch of cookies--they probably know that something else is going to happen. The Duchess is probably planning something, right? But who knows what that crazy lady is up to! Not Mirror Rick, that's for sure. The Duchess is on the Queen's Bad Person list, of course, and he tries not to associate with people like that.]

[Mirror Rick will also be telling anyone who will listen,]

Well, I think it's a nice change of pace, don't you? It's only fair that they get to see us sometimes! It's kind of creepy that we spy on them all the time, if you think about it. This evens things out a bit!

mirrorside!

[astigmatism]

[Oh, yipe. It's one of the friendly ones. Alex watches him be aggressively helpful for a time before rolling on up unobtrusively, hands jammed in his pockets.]

You must not mind that Her Majesty doesn't take answering questions as a kindness then, huh?

amethyst | real side | ota (mirror amethyst also available)

[brainmeme]

[Amethyst is fine ignoring the mirrors when they change. She's not particularly interested in peeking at how the other side lives. She probably should be, should be interested in recon or something, but she'd just rather not.

'Til she passes a mirror with her name written on it.]

Hey, Amethyst! Are you there?

[Okay. That's weird. Amethyst looks above the writing and sees... a gem that looks a lot like another Amethyst. She's got short, smooth hair and is in a neat skirt.

Okay, she'll bite. Amethyst writes back.]

whats it to ya

[The Mirror Amethyst smiles delightedly and waves. She continues her side of the conversation aloud.]

We haven't spoken. I thought now may be the perfect time to start! I've been seeing you around, and, you know... guilty and pathetic is just not a good look for you! It pains me to see, it really does. But, you know, someone's looking out for you! I'm really rooting for you. I bet things will turn around for you before you know it!

[Okay, this is kind of annoying. And not the kind of thing Amethyst wants to hear at all. Even though it's supposed to be nice or something? At least the Mirror can't see it when Amethyst narrows her eyes. She writes a quick response, wanting this conversation over with already.]

uh thanks

[Before she can finish off the "s", Mirror Amethyst is already continuing.

I mean, you're probably right. You don't really seem to deserve your friends. But they put up with you anyway! You ought to look on the bright side sometimes. And I guess you have more friends than you think. Friends on this side! See, things aren't always so doom and gloom here.

[Amethyst just glares at her altered reflection, doesn't bother answering. Mirror Amethyst's smile, meanwhile, seems to be developing into more of a smirk.]

After all, no one understands you like I do. I'm the best friend you could have.

[Suddenly, Mirror Amethyst transforms into something monstrous, all hair and bones and antlers. Her voice as she continues is booming and warped.]

You ought to write more.

[Amethyst lets out a yell and stumbles back in surprise. She takes a few deep breaths to calm herself, leaning back against the wall.]

Uh, yikes.

[She leaves her Mirror to her demented giggling, a little frazzled. That teaches her to show Mirrors the time of day.]

[interpersonal]

[ and leaning back against the wall is how elena will find amethyst shortly after.

she doesn't need to ask what's going on; elena's already had some nasty encounters with a few of the mirrors, though not her own. she doesn't know if she prefers it that way or not. she doesn't know if she prefers ignorance or knowledge, in this case. is she grateful or curious?

worrying over someone else is much better than focusing on that particular existential crisis, though. ]

Hey. Are you okay?

Mirror Cullen Rutherford | Mirror Side Library | OTA

[squandered]

The Library

[ He changes in his own room. Admires the sight. Slightly less so when he makes himself put on the sort of clothes his counterpart would wear. No taste, the Knight-Commander scoffs silently, and thinks the other Cullen should have stayed with the Templars. That he can't even dress himself properly without someone giving the order. Maker's balls, what a pathetic sod.

And it falls to him to show a convincing impression of the man. Of a man like him, he thinks, because there is no fooling the eyes: Cullen, as he lives on the side of the mirrors normally hidden from sight, is pale. Corpse-pale, his dark veins visible lines. Only his eyes have all the colour his skin does not: Red, not bloodshot but bright and red all the way through, sometimes alight with a pulsing glow, the same way the scar on his lip seems less flesh, and more the cut of a crystal.

He makes up for the difference with his demeanour. Boring, boring, what would the boring Cullen do? His answer takes him to the Mirror side library, where he sits down to read. Some history of battle weaponry in the Anderfels, but he barely paid attention to the title, let alone the words, as he holds the book in his hands. This had better be worth it. This had better be over soon. They'd better get an opportunity to meet the others in person, to make up for this.

Every once in a while he turns to the mirror nearest to his desk. Cullen sees nothing in it, except for himself, but one doesn't always see the fish when casting a lure. ]

You've stood there long enough, [ he addresses his own reflection confidently. ] Is that all you intend to do, stand and watch?

[ One. Two. Three. Four. Five, he counts out, and keeps an expectant gaze on the glass. When no reply comes he shrugs and returns to his fascinating read. He will do the same in an hour or two. If he does it often enough, sooner or later it is bound to be true. ]

Other

[[ OOC: Open to fellow Mirrors and writing from the Real side! If you want a different prompt, just shoot me a message, or skip that part and go right ahead to writing your own starter! ]]

[cutenug]

[ the sight of cullen shot through with red lyrium is--startling. to say the least. it captures all of the real leliana's attention, to the point where she drops her other investigations for a while to follow him. watch him. catalog all of the differences beside the obvious.

she's standing there in the library the first time he asks the question. the second time, she smiles tightly from her side of the mirror. it's a very cullen thing to do, that. which, of course, is not reassuring in the least.

she pulls out a marker she got from the closets and writes back the second time he asks. ]

Do you plan on doing anything interesting?

Elizabeth | Mirror Side | OTA

[fatalistics]

There's something deeply satisfying in seeing herself in the mirror for once, rather than the insipid incarnation on the other side. It was even more satisfying knowing that the other Elizabeth could see her for once -- the beautiful dark butterfly she was capable of blossoming into.

She looks as though she's come from fifty years later than the other Elizabeth: deep red lipstick against porcelain skin, dark winged eyeshadow, and jet black curls which frame her face. She's all curves, something she's keen to flaunt, wearing a pencil skirt that clings just a little too tight, hips swaying as she walks. The look of bright curiosity from the Real Elizabeth is completely absent, replaced instead by a worldly gaze that looks as though she knows the punchline to some very dark joke, and is content to watch as the world brings itself to ruin.

She spends her time in the bar, a cigarette holder rimmed with silver between her elegant, slender fingers, pushing the olive in her martini around the glass, quite bored without the entertainment of the Real side to keep her entertained. A smile quirks up one corner of her mouth when she spies company, patting the stool next to her and ordering more drinks before they've even sat down.

After a while she leans over, blowing gently on the polished bar top, dragging her finger through the mist that covers the surface, writing three words to the people she knows are watching on the other side:

𝓔𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝒆 𝓿𝓲𝒆𝔀?

[saved]

Peter has been watching the other side with the kind of intensity that would be impressive. His whole body is contorted up as he sits in front of the mirrors in front of him. There are notebooks scattered all around him as he bites so hard on a pen that it's nearly destroyed within days.

He writes back

Enjoy might be a strong word.

What's it like over there?

Arya Stark | Mirror | OTA

[docilely]

Arya knows that the Real her would be disgusted when she saw her through the mirror, which makes her feel doubly ashamed when she sees only her own reflection instead of the world she watches and dreams of escaping into, if only she weren't too scared of the Queen of Hearts to try.

She tries to avoid mirrors after that, for the Real Arya's sake, not wanting to cause her any upset, after all she is Arya Stark, and this girl is No One. It's inevitable though that she flits by one from time to time, her ornate gown floating by around her, or forgets for a second and peers through, only to jump back suddenly when she remembers that she'll be seen.

[sponsored]

[ she keeps spotting this girl-- familiar and not in all the small ways. quick, and tentative in her movements. most definitely hiding. so when faith sees her pass the same mirror a few times, she leaves a message: ]

Arya? Are you OK?

Papyrus | Mirror | OTA

[everyonecanbecruel]

[ seeing his own reflection is a bit...unnerving.

Had this mirror ever seen his own reflection before? He presses into the reflection of a standing mirror in his room as if trying to see through himself, which he just knew would not happen. He leaves his room and wanders the halls, watching his own reflection warily.

So this is what it feels like to be watched constantly.

The mirror stops walking, uncomfortably standing there. A (more than normal) tattered scarf wrapped around his neck-- something comfortable. Otherwise dressed somewhat normally. A bony, un-plated hand pulls on his scarf to loosen it. A gesture that stretches between both real and mirror.

He's nervous-- so nervous. What if Sans, or worse, Sans rounds the corner? What if the mirror version of anyone comes to verbally (or even physically) kick him down now; he's sure he would lose his nerve, and he doesn't wish to harm anyone. His hands settle on his arms and he tries to steel himself.

Maybe he should just break the mirrors. Keep them out. Make them stop.

He just stands there... ]

[punful]

[Ah. There he is. Well. This had to happen eventually. Sans hasn't exactly been seeking out mirrors, but he's been casually keeping an eyesocket on reflective surfaces while he wanders. He's seen his own Mirror plenty of times, patrolling the mansion and smashing mirrors like a massive tool, and he's seen...jeez. So many of them. People he doesn't even know, and the occasional monster among them. He thinks he even saw Undyne's Mirror earlier.]

[So of course he'd run into Papyrus eventually. It's...uncanny. Unsettling. He's just standing there on the other side of the glass, looking nervous and almost morose. He looks exactly like the Real thing. Except for his hands. No handplate.]

[Sans stuffs his hands in his pockets and watches him for a few moments. He should keep walking. This isn't really Papyrus, and the last time they talked, well. It's clear what this Papyrus thinks of him.]

[Still, he's...a Papyrus. He's Papyrus, and he looks so upset. And Sans has been doing a lot of reaching out lately. Making an effort and all. It's become a real habit, and he hasn't decided yet if it's a good one or a bad one.]

[He sighs to himself and pulls out his marker.]

hey. i've got one for you. how did the skeleton know his bro was having a bad time?