'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

[bloodmagics]

[It requires all of Hawke's strength to keep himself atop the Knight-Commander, to tear at his throat like he wants to rip it clean from his body. His throat aches and aches, breathing an almost impossible task, talking truly impossible.

The rage in his eyes burns brighter as Cullen talks, as he reminds him of exactly why he's so furious. Nails tear harder, blood staining his fingers as he finally breaks skin.

Another gasp tears itself from him as the wind is knocked out of him, his hand tightening around the Knight-Commander's throat reflexively to keep himself grounded. But he's fighting a losing battle now, and anger can only carry him so far. Free hand searches for the latches in armour, desperate to remove it, to uncover skin and muscle and bone and everything else until he's drowning in the song.]

[squandered]

You're struggling, [ he rasps with the first breath he draws, when Hawke's fingers find another target. Maker's blood, but it's tempting to let him already, see how deep he'll tear once the leather and metal is gone. If he let scratches and gashes wash over him as they come, and bleed red twice over.

But what a poor Knight-Commander he'd be, if he didn't even reward his Champion with a fight. ]

You will need a lesson.

[ Cullen doesn't push, this time. Instead he rolls them both aside, and struggles to his knees when Hawke lies underneath. Hurriedly, because it won't do just like that. One more push, forcefully, until he has Hawke on his stomach. Until the Knight-Commander's hands bunch in his hair, and force his face to the floor. ]

You always start with the latches at the back, serah.

[ As he does, so very generously to instruct, until the curve of Hawke's spine is laid bare from neck to bottom, and nothing stands in the way of Cullen's fingers leaving red trails across the length of his back. ]

[parasitize]

[How dare you, he wants to snarl at the admonishment. Instead, he continues to claw, nail splitting and cracking against armour as he searches for a latch he won't find. Were he not overcome with fury and rage, he would be able to strip the Knight-Commander bear in seconds.

But the song feeds his anger as much as his Knight-Commander does. He manages a breath before the other man rolls them both.]

As much -- [It hurts so beautifully.] As much as you need one in discipline.

[And he'll be happy to instruct, obviously. Teeth catch his lip a little too hard as his face is forced to the floor, blood dripping along the ground and smearing across his cheek. A wild thrash to make pain blossom across his scalp. His anger flares as cool air dances across his skin.

Quick, sharp pain burns down his back but it isn't enough. He continues to struggle underneath Cullen, hips bucking in an attempt to dislodge and regain control.]

Surely that isn't all you've got, Knight-Commander.