'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

[punful]

[The look on Papyrus's face is worse than the words. Something sinks inside him as he watches Papyrus write. This isn't spite like with his own Mirror. This is...genuine betrayal, disappointment, hurt.]

[Sans has had nightmares like this. Papyrus finally calling him out on everything Sans has done and hasn't done. Papyrus saying outright that he wants nothing more to do with Sans. Papyrus feeling as betrayed as he should be.]

do you mean that you've died on that side? or do you mean what happened to your real last month?

[everyonecanbecruel]

[ A pause gives him a chance to think about his words. Something tugs at his chest and he looks down. That's not what he really wanted, is it? It's not. An accumulation of pent frustrations and anxieties plague his mind. ]

I DO NOT THINK YOU REALLY WANT THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION. [ it's incredible how forward his words can be, and how genuinely his facial expression can suggest another feeling all together. The mirror straightens a bit. ]

I DO NOT TRUST YOU, AND I DO NOT THINK YOU TRUST ME EITHER. I AM NOT THE PAPYRUS YOU ARE ACCLIMATED TO. [ he lifts his hand-- plateless. Nothing there. His fingers wiggle a bit and then he returns to writing. ] I AM NOT SURE WHAT YOU HAVE SEEN OF US, BUT YOUR DOUBT IS IN GOOD JUDGEMENT.

[ the words end and he puts the cap back on his marker. Has he said too much? He'd seen this Sans-- seen how he watches after the real Papyrus and takes care of his friends-- but sometimes, sometimes he just can't do it. He can't be the hero that his Papyrus makes him out to be.

The mirror and Papyrus had written back and forth for a while before they were walked in on by anyone. "HE IS LAZY, AND YET DEPENDABLE! I AM SURE THAT IF YOU SPEAK WITH HIM, YOU WILL UNDERSTAND!" so...here he is. Months later. Trying to understand what his real had said. Reaching out, just a little.

And yet, keeping his distance. A safe, wide gap between himself and anyone who could possibly hurt him; everyone. Anyone. Anything. ]

[punful]

[He watches Papyrus's face and body languages. Watches as he writes the words.]

[This was such a bad idea. He should just walk away right now. But...]

[But it's still Papyrus. Still his brother. Even if he was technically "made" in Wonderland, he still has a Papyrus's memories.]

yeah. guess you're right.

[He taps the marker against his chin as he watches Papyrus write more. Yeah. This makes sense. Considering the Sans that this Papyrus has to put up with...]

i get that. but it's not that i don't trust you. it's more that i don't know you, i guess. and i get that you don't trust me either. the sans on that side's kind of a

[Pause.]

jerk, huh?

and i haven't exactly been the best brother. i don't know if "brothers" is what we can be, but you know. no reason we can't at least be civil. maybe friends?

[everyonecanbecruel]

[ kind of a jerk, huh?

His face darkens. ]

HE WANTS YOUR BROTHER. HE DOES NOT WANT ME.
WHICH IS ALRIGHT. MY REAL HAS THE PLATE.
I AM NOT JEAL [ he looks somewhat flustered, and is wondering if he should have written that. It's erased before he can dwell on it, and he continues. "maybe friends?" ]

I AM

[ no. ]

YOU SHOULD

[ no. ]

FRIENDS?

[ it's surprised him. the last word written somewhat slowly. ]

[punful]

["He wants your brother."]

[Something about the way Papyrus phrases that rattles Sans to his core. He wants your brother. Not "he loves your brother" or "he cares about your brother." That word. "Wants."]

[Sans knew his Mirror cared about Papyrus, and maybe it's even genuine, but this is starting to sound...almost like obsession. Sans doesn't act like that...does he? Papyrus is basically his whole world but that's...is that weird? They're brothers and they love each other and they need each other, but...]

[Sans shakes his head. He has always suspected that he needs Papyrus more than Papyrus needs him. He holds Papyrus back. This isn't anything new.]

that guy is a weirdo.

[He can't help a sad smile as Papyrus erases what would have been the word "jealous."]

the plate doesn't really matter. i think i got too hung up on it.

[He's still hung up on it, but to a much lesser degree these days.]

well, sure. i mean

[He pauses, thinking of how to phrase it.]

we don't have to be. i did say before that you don't have to like me. but we don't have to be enemies just because we're on different sides of the glass.

i dunno. you seem like you could use a friend.

[everyonecanbecruel]

[ he pauses, staring at the ground. A...kind gesture? How strange-- unusual, if anything else.

Reals are...confusing. But he can't help but feel a small tinge of warmth in his chest when Sans offers. A kind gesture...

He just looks a little lost. ]

I CANNOT

YOU SHOULDN'T.

[ it's a little much. Every non-existant nerve in his bony body is resisting the notion of this... 'open up.' 'Let people in.' His shoulders slump a little. ]

you will regret

having me as a friend

and then you will hurt me, too

won't you?

[ a weak plea. a disheartened skeleton. He puts a cap on his marker, and his knees shift a bit-- he's about to get up.

To just...leave, before the warmth spreads too much, and it's too late. Before you hurt yourself. Before he hurts you. Before his brother turns the corner and sees this display of weakness and tries to take advantage of it. ]

[punful]

[God, this is hard. Seeing Papyrus so...]

[Small. That's the word for it. The Great Papyrus, reduced. Folded in. Small.]

no. i wou

["I wouldn't hurt you." Liar. That's the whole point. It's the lies that hurt Papyrus the worst, after all.]

not intentionally.

never intentionally.

people mess up sometimes. me especially.

but i dunno

we could

try? maybe?

wouldn't have to be anything big or special

could just chat now and then.

maybe at a neutral mirror

so you don't have to, yanno

go into that sans's room, i mean.

[everyonecanbecruel]

[ his eyes watch the writing, hanging on each word. 'not intentionally.' It...resonates, within him. Sans isn't...hurting him on purpose? Surely, he's the only one. Other people aren't like that. Papyrus bends down to a knee to write again. He's hesitant, but...somewhat hopeful looking.

his pen sits in front of the mirror, trembling slightly. The feeling is overwhelming: like a rambunctious, loud song barricaded behind a steel door in his soul. It falls to his side for a moment, and his hand lifts to touch the mirror with boney fingertips. ]

we should not.




but i will think about it

[ a somewhat taboo friendship. He looks...nervous, but a little excited. A friend. The thudding feeling in his chest grows. It is quickly dispelled by a somewhat anxious looking breath.

don't let him in completely. But perhaps it'd be good to get some reconnaissance? What if the real Sans and the Mirror Sans are similar?

It's...purely recon. Nothing more. ]

[punful]

[He practically holds his breath as Papyrus writes. That nervousness, that uncertainty. God. Papyrus is like an animal that has been hurt too many times to trust anyone. And what does that say about Mirror Sans?]

[But then he finally answers, and Sans sighs in relief. It's not much, but it's a step.]

okay.

that's all i can ask.

[everyonecanbecruel]

[ on the other side of the mirror, Papyrus hears voices-- sees shadows coming from the opposite end of the hallway, and he stands quickly. Not even saying goodbye, not bothering to write out a farewell, or wave-- he looks a bit anxious.

He does spare the writing a final look though. Could he rely on that? On those words? On the skeleton attached to them? ]

Goodbye.

[ He doesn't know if Sans can hear him speak, but...leaving so abruptly seems rude, even if he can't trust his real-side brother. The tall skeleton just starts to walk away from the mirror, in the direction of his room, which is thankfully in the opposite direction of those shadows. ]

[punful]

[Sans sits back on the floor, tapping his marker against his knee and watching Papyrus go. That...was progress, right? That was a step in the right direction.]

[But he's still worried. Maybe he'll just...follow Papyrus for a bit. What's the worst that could happen?]