'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

[squandered]

[ Ahh, he's asked himself that every day. But no, no, of course not, he is Nothing-Commander Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath, he would never stoop so low as to be interesting. Maker forbid.

I'm trying to find a way to fight this blighted world, I'm sorry if that isn't entertaining enough for you, he thinks - mouths silently to himself in pieces, because- he'd say that, yes? Something like that, he would. But Cullen lets his tongue trail across the scar above his lips, because they asked, and he can't quite tear himself from that.

He puts the book down, and approaches the mirror slowly. ]

Such as? Do you have something in mind, or are you fishing?

[cutenug]

[ it takes her a moment to write back. a moment spent debating just how much she wants to reveal through writing. if he can't already recognize her handwriting, that is. ]

Why not both?

[ there's another pause then, broken only by spots of ink appearing as the marker taps on the glass as leliana thinks. ]

The smallest lark may carry it while the strongest man may not. What do I speak of?

[squandered]

[ Familiar, familiar, he thinks, but his eyes don't linger on details anymore. Who would speak to him, he wonders instead, and who would do it like this? Only so many names come to mind that are not strangers, and hers hardly better. Cassandra denied him, Leliana - her, yes, shall we guess it is her? - denied him, their blight-forsaken cause refused him. He belongs to Corypheus instead, and they are nothing to him.

But that is not the tune they sing today, is it? He wonders how the other Cullen would look, with an answer like that on his lips. Not laughter, he reminds himself, and manages at least that. ]

The burden of freedom.

[cutenug]

[ though he can't hear it, she tsks at him quietly. though she would never admit it, the answer he gives makes her heart ache just a little. there's a story there, and only knowing the real cullen's tale makes her mind supplies things that are very probably wrong. they are not the same, she reminds herself. the glimpses she saw of her own mirror have made her believe that. ]

A tune.

[ more tapping. more deliberating. ]

Echoes of a shadowy realm, glimpses of things yet to come. Thought's strange sister dwells in night, is swept away in dawning light. Of what do I speak?

This should be an easier answer, yes?

[squandered]

[ Oh, now he's allowed to laugh. Bitterly. ]

There's only ever one answer, is there? I'd hoped there were more, once.

[ Ah, but speaking of that-- ]

Swept away in dawning light. Hope. You speak of hope.

[cutenug]

[ she presses her hand against the glass, swallows hard. this was a terrible idea. a terrible, terrible idea. what happened to you, cullen? she almost asks.

almost. ]

Do you want me to stop?

[squandered]

[ Just when he was getting good at it? Just when they were starting to have fun? Shh, no, neither of those. ]

Is that one an easy answer as well? No, correct?

[cutenug]

That one doesn't have a correct answer.

[ more tapping. leliana sighs, reminds herself that she should not care, though it doesn't help much. it's times like these she wishes she had killed her heart instead of remembering mercy. ]

Tell me about yourself.

[squandered]

What would you hear, that you don't already know?

[ He tilts his head. ]

Or can't already guess.

[cutenug]

[ hmmm... ]

What makes you think I could guess things about you?

[ this has turned into a game of twenty questions, and leliana can't say she minds. ]

[squandered]

[ Is he making her believe? Can he still make her believe? Won't know until he tries, will he? And he's so very fond of the next part. ]

You know who I was. Perhaps it's not me you need to guess about, for the rest. [ He sighs. ] Cadash said she needed me stronger than I was. Then she said we could use Corypheus weapons against him. No, would that have been the correct answer then?

[cutenug]

[ her jaw clenches. leliana is not often tempted to bursts of violence that won't actually accomplish anything, but those words make her want to hit something. ]

Who do you think I am?

[ and if he is right about who she is, where the fuck was she when this was happening? because she would never condone the use of red lyrium. ]

[squandered]

[ Ah, nug's piss, did he get it wrong? Don't tell him he wasted his favourite performance, Andraste's tits. Shh, no, not over yet. One word. Come now, just give another word. ]

Spymaster.

[ There it is. ]

[cutenug]

Things change between worlds, do they not? What is my name?

[ she prays he has a different spymaster. because she really doesn't want to think of a world wherein she is party to the use of blighted lyrium and everything it does. ]

[squandered]

[ Ha. The corner of his lip twitches. It's a difficult grin to bite back. ]

Which one of them? Left Hand. Nightingale. Sister. Leliana.

[cutenug]

Yes.

[ she curses under her breath. stares at that lip twitch and thinks remember the differences. ]

Why was Cadash not stopped?

[squandered]

Corypheus, [ he corrects with emphasis. ] Corypheus is the one we must stop, Cadash is our Herald. I remember it correctly, I'm sure of it. She's saved us all, hasn't she?

[ Done? Almost done. Just a little something extra. He taps the mirror faintly with one finger. ]

He'll see it soon, as well, he'll be able to tell it better.

[cutenug]

No.

[ the writing is sloppier--she's pressing harder against the glass and writing faster. ]

He will not take it. I will kill anyone who tries to make him.

[squandered]

You won't.

[ The Knight-Commander shakes his head, and steps back from the mirror. ]

You didn't.

[cutenug]

[ she lets him go, hissing between her teeth as she stalks away from the mirror. he lies. he must. the alternative is unthinkable. ]

[squandered]

[ He waits for more writing to appear, and is almost disappointed when it doesn't. Disappointed that he needs to imagine her face, when he'd much rather see it. Next time, he comforts himself. There will be a next time.

The Knight-Commander turns from the mirror, and with his back to it walks away, grinning. ]