entrancelogs | 'Tis rather inconvenient like this. +

Entry tags:

'Tis rather inconvenient like this. +

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.

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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! )

[ 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.

[ She hadn't been expecting creeper music to go with the full stalker vibe. It felt like a little much, then again she'd always battled with her own insecurities - especially when surrounded by such amazing people. Maybe she'd let her guard down, maybe she needed to know just how much of a problem this guy will be. She wants to say she has no idea who Arcade Fire is, but that'd be a total lie.

If he weren't trying to get under her skin, she'd actually be amused. She moves off to the side to pick up her eyeliner pencil in order to respond. ]

I like my disco with a lot less creep.
Why are you doing this?

[ he stands, tall frame stretching with long steps to just touch the mirror with his fingertips. she's right there and he can't even see her. ]

Well. I wanted to wait a little longer. Admittedly this whole-- [ his hands wave in the air, eyes flick up to the ceiling ] --fiasco put a kink in my itinerary.

[ his eyes move back to the mirror; to his own. he suddenly looks some imitation of concerned: ]

Oh, was the rhetorical nature of my question not clear? She wouldn't hold a candle to you, you know. Someone should tell you that more often.

Your itinerary?

[ It's scrawled before he finishes, although she's immediately regretting it as the pieces fall into place. She'd seen mirrors use blood on the mirrors before, but it was usually theirs. He wasn't the harmless type, though. That one sentence was enough to confirm that. It shifts her priorities - wanting to shout back at him.

But no, she has to write - has to keep her emotions in check to get the answers she needs. ]

What did you do to her?
Is she alive?

I was just trying to make her see she could be more like you. Strong.

[ he smiles-- even laughs, but neither reach his eyes. it's an act learned from watching other people be normal, and that's all. he's shaken, and trying to recover. he ignores darcy's questions about his version of her. ]

I like this. Normally I know what you're thinking at any given moment. When you're worried, or strung out. You know-- you really shouldn't drink and operate firearms. Even if it's extremely ... invigorating to behold.

[ She wants to speak, to yell at him - to somehow protect her mirror. There's a temptation to put a memo out to anyone who'll listen to kill Ray's alter ego. Or at least deter it. But she had no incentive, nothing to offer to make sure it didn't just go downhill for the other girl. She can feel herself vibrating, wanting to stop encouraging this and just shatter the mirror...

But she can't. Not when he says that. Her blood runs cold and she can't breathe. She feels like she's going to be sick. She'd said some very personal things to Clint and she hadn't paid attention to mirrors. Her two years making her a little lax on that.

She's not taking the bait, though. She can't. There'd be no coming back from that. The words are bolder than before, an indication that he's getting under her skin. ]

Is she still alive?

[ he chews at his lip, irritation at her refusal to play the game edging in at the periphery of his mind. he's still, and blinks twice before his eyes light up with an idea. ]

OK. I'll tell you. If you tell me something first. [ his eyes narrow, nose crinkling with his lopsided smile. ] Which ones are you wearing right now? I bet it's the purple lace.

[ Well, this changes things.

She can hear her pulse pounding in her ears, hands shaking as she fights the urge to just shatter the mirror. He was toying with her, trying to bait her into something more... She couldn't give him the satisfaction. ]

No. I'm not answering that you pervy freak.
You're going to give me a straight answer to my question
or I'm done talking to you.

She's alive.

[ if there's anything darcy has over him, it's the ability to take away his drug. sure, she might stop talking to him anyway but-- she might not, either. he just wishes he could see her like this. fiery and purposeful. ]

Anything else?

[ She exhales, a soft thud echoing from her hand resting against the mirror for a split second before she realizes what she's done. Her hand pulls back almost immediately, as though it's been burned. Darcy can't say she's upset to not see that stupid smirk. ]

How long have you been watching us? [ No, not us - c'mon Darcy. So, she scratches it out and re-writes it correctly. More direct. ] Me. How long have you been watching me?

Not long. I was only made two month ago, you know.

[ but he knows if he drags it out too much, she'll cut him off. still, he can't quell every urge he's having in her presence. ]

You look lovely in a gas mask.

[ Well, he should try to quell them. He really should. Especially when those words come out of his mouth. The eyeliner in her hand drops and she's backing up from the mirror. Backing away from him. He'd seen that - seen her in one of her most vulnerable moments with Steve. Had presumably seen their violent deaths...

And now was just casually throwing that out there like it was nothing. Like he was talking about the weather and not something she still hadn't fully gotten over, may never get over. She's not crying, won't cry - though she's close. The text goes out to Blake and she can't breathe. So, there's no response for now, just an awkward pause from her - showing that he'd finally struck a nerve. ]

[ ray's eyes move over the mirror, waiting. hopeful.

he fidgets. it's so unfortunate that he can't watch her reaction in this moment; watch the gears turn as she thinks back through the past few months of her life with a new element involved.

he fidgets. being this out of control had started off exhilarating.

he fidgets. now it was beginning to push in at him. he tries for more: ]

You know, even though I can't see you, it's like we're here together. Really together. You're so good to me.

[ She couldn't leave it on that note. Couldn't let him think he was doing something good. Think that he'd won. Darcy picks the eyeliner back up, making a decision then and there to make sure he understood that she wasn't playing around. ]

You make me sick.
If I ever see you on this side, I'll kill you.

[ And with that, she's wiping down the mirror, removing any traces of herself from it. She wasn't going to give him the chance to fixate on her handwriting or her messages. As far as she's concerned, she's done with him. Blake would be arriving soon and then she'd be able to begin to process everything. Figure out how to tell the people he'd decided to mention that they'd been watched. Figure out if he was just going to come after her or if it was going to be a full Avengers mess.

A problem for tomorrow. ]

[With a glowing red scar across his face and a matching glow in his eyes, Garrett Hawke's Mirror doesn't stand a chance at successfully passing as his counterpart. Which means he'd needed to plan and plan and plan and plan and plan for the first time the Queen allows them to cross over.

And it's all been ruined.

So much like a child, albeit a child with magic powers, he might be throwing a tantrum as he stalks the halls looking for someone. Granted, said tantrum involves destroying every single mirror in his path, but hey. There's another shattering sound as he destroys the next mirror, blood running down his arm because this one he decided to punch when he hears footsteps. The sound is met with a snarl as he turns to face whoever it is.]

How can you just act like -- Like everything is fine.

[ in fact, raymond is strung out. hawke will find ray's usually-immaculate and crisp white shirt rumpled, unbuttoned, and flecked with blood. his hair has fallen from its usual slicked-back perfection, parting to droop over his forehead. ]

You're dripping.

[ no he sure does not answer the question, instead choosing to invade hawke's boundaries as best he can while remaining 20 feet from him. raymond points at the blood running down hawke's arm, stone-faced but ready to crumble. he needs to get back to his room, and this child is in his way. ]

[Any other time and Hawke might enjoy the sight, debauchery calls to debauchery after all. But anger is such an easy emotion to sink into and in lieu of yet another ordinary mirror to break, Raymond will do.]

Am I? [He glances where Raymond points, letting out a huff.] So I am.

[Keeping eye contact with the other man, he brings his wounded hand to his lips and licks one blood trail off his skin. His eyes glow brighter, the lyrium in his blood easing a constant craving.]

I hope I'm not keeping you from something important.

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'Tis rather inconvenient like this. +

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

→ darcy | cw: obsessive sadistic stalkery grossness

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