'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

=)

[dustiest]

Frisk bristles, their mouth tightening at the corners. When they spin around to face Max directly, they're smiling. It's forced. It's so, so forced, and glaringly obvious about it.

"Why should I? You gonna call the Wonderland PD?"

Their injured hand flexes, a movement that one might call unconscious if Frisk weren't sharply aware of the needling presence of glass stuck in their fist. They've taken out most of their frustrations already. There's no point keeping their hand like this, except for the potential for new conversation it might spark.

[dodged_and_burned]

"Wonderland childcare services, maybe." She glances down at Frisk's hand. Her eyes narrow. She knows they can do the saves and loads thing- it's hard not to notice it when Chara does their save spamming. Or when that weird flower thing used to.

But does Frisk know about Max's little tricks?

Wouldn't it be so cool to find out the hard way?

"It looks like a nasty little boo-boo."

Gurgle gurgle gurgle, goes the soda.

[dustiest]

"Yeah, maybe I should treat my ouchie with a cute little band-aid. Maybe one with pink cat faces on it! What are you, six?" They shoot Max a thoroughly disparaging look. They might look twelve, but they might as well not be, right? Neither of their ages particularly matter.

Hand stings. It's inconsequential. Still, their SAVE glimmers in the back of their mind, the file carded away to just before their little tantrum. It's always good to have reserves.

[dodged_and_burned]

"Almost six... months."

Six fairly entertaining months, practicing practicing practicing her rewinds, the way the real Max never does.

Come on. Make a save! She wonders if she'd notice. Maybe they already made one.

Her gaze climbs up to their face, then the writing on the wall. "You know who I miss? My mom." Would they even care about that?

She chuckles at how stupid her next attempt will be. "...My pet goat." She chuckles again.

[dustiest]

Frisk rolls their eyes. They don't miss anyone. That much should be cleanly obvious. They cut down any hope for a family Underground they might've had, and didn't regret it for an instant. The Real Frisk is technically older, right, given all the RESETs they've undergone? They must be. It doesn't really matter one way or another.

Any other version of them might make a goat pun. As it is, Frisk simply snorts, short and derisive.

"You're boring," they announce abruptly. "What's your point?"

[dodged_and_burned]

So they don't care. Or they're good at hiding it, since obviously something's making them upset. Does it matter? Max is boring herself too, and it's no good.

She blows the straw at Frisk. "Oh god, just do your thing, would you? Let's plaaay." She wraps her arms around herself in a hug, hands tucked insie her hoodie at the waist, and smiles. "On the count of three. Ooooone..."

1/2

[dustiest]

Oh. She wants a demonstration, huh? Frisk eyes her coldly. Complying would feel too much like giving up, which is just not something they Do, exactly. But if they don't, they feel like she'll just toy with them regardless.

They've had quite enough of that. They trimmed that weed to its stem the first time it tried it. Not technically speaking, but in principle, sure.

"Fine," Frisk sighs, looking away.