wilderlands | (no subject)

[ . The hovering mirror shows Robbie, in his hodgepodge of clothing and mess of hair. How to keep one’s crown smooth to achieve that perfect summer ponytail is one issue of Seventeen that he definitely missed.

He looks like hour 28 of a shipwreck, tired and unable to sleep but desperately trying to look awake and healthy so nobody throws him out of the lifeboat to conserve resources. His eyes keeping flicking away to something beyond the network mirror, and he can barely keep his eyes off it.

When he talks, Robbie can barely contain the world-weary eagerness of someone who knows there’s no Nigerian prince, but god damn it would be the solution to all his problems if it were true. Mostly because he’s pissed at himself for asking what’s obviously a stupid question. This is like the mirrors that show the Elves true forms: magic. ]

What do you see in the mirror?

[ He spins the hovering magic mirror. The mirror is showing … a mirrored surface, possibly catching the light a little. It’s not reflecting back a hovering communications mirror, though. That’s the first sign that something's wrong.

Robbie’s reflection … isn’t his. The young man is very like him, with the same bright blue eyes and shaggy, albeit shorter, blonde hair. He’s healthy, clean, and kitted out in a pair of crisp, dark blue jeans and a Yale t-shirt. With a cheery, charming smile, he looks like he’s never wanted a day in his life.

He’s in a schoolyard, and there are kids running around playing games. The school looms behind them, with the name set in the stone above the main entrance: Stamford Elementary.

The banner hanging below it announced a town hall with Governor Justin Baldwin. The governor might be the best suit on the stairs, shaking hand after hand, as does his lovely companion. They're in their fifties, but could pass for 40.

After a moment, the mirror Robbie turns and runs over to join them, kicking a ball back to the kids on the way. The suit claps him heartily on his shoulder, and there’s a burst of energy bubbles and light. Mirror Robbie is now in a superhero uniform, and everyone looks to be laughing good-naturedly. The governor is beaming proudly. ]

It’s just me, right?

[ OOC note: the mods have said that the others will see what Robbie sees, because they aren't in front of the Mirror of Erised and magic. ]

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Maybe it's just really shitty entertainment. [Dixon shrugs.]

I mean, if it's getting you all riled up. That's what I mean by getting in your head. [Because while Dixon's fine with playing along that it's not Robbie in the picture, he's not going to bother pretending that Robbie doesn't look completely absorbed in this in a bad way.] How long you been looking at it?

[Dixon's going to estimate that it's probably less than the time they've been here in Rivendell, but probably since long enough that Robbie should have eaten or slept a while ago. If that even matters in the mirror realm - Dixon's never been, so he's working off secondhand information and a limited imagination.]

Edited 2018-07-13 01:59 (UTC)

It’s no Shark Week.

[ He hits that one just right, because it has the benefit of truth (and truth that he’s not uncomfortable with. It’s not Shark Week nor is it a third as entertaining.

Five times as hard to turn away from. ]

A few hours, I guess.

[ About 7 since he last peed, and somewhere in there he hit the 24 hours awake mark. He’s not running on fumes yet but the low fuel light’s been on awhile. He’s spent most of the past week in this room. ]

But it’s not in my head. You’d want to know more about it if you were me.

Man, Shark Week's great. [Dixon gives a wistful whistle, because honestly, of course he loves vegging out in front of the TV watching sharks swim around. He and his parents made popcorn for the event back when they had cable. It was a whole thing.

But he's getting sidetracked.]

I probably would, but I'd want to eat and sleep too, and you look like you ain't done that in a while. Maybe it's like a watched pot. Won't boil if you're busy looking at it the whole time.

I don’t think that’s how fire and a pot of water work.

[ A little smile and some sarcasm may go a long way to proving that he’s all right. Robbie’s not that calculated though. They’re real. ]

Shark Week’s riveting, man. Blink and you miss it stuff. What if this is like the Impossible Shot? You can watch for days and then look away the wrong three seconds and it’s gone. You might never see it again.

[ His eyes flicker away and back. ]

I don’t need a lot of sleep, anyway.

There's a saying about it. [Dixon offers that as counter-evidence, as if a wive's tale about impatience is able to stand equally to actual physics and logic.]

Your plan is to just watch it forever on the off chance that maybe something'll flash across the screen? [Well, mirror surface. Glass pane? Dixon's not sure the best way to phrase that, so he barrels on forward.] That's a stupid plan. No offense.

Maybe someone else can help you watch it a while so you can get a chance to rest and stretch your legs.

Yeah, that’s my plan! It’s not like I’ve got a lot of options here! There’s no tech for the space genius to analyze, and smashing it to see if there’s a portal behind it is a one way ticket cause I don’t know how to put a magic mirror back together!

[ Dixon is beginning to get irritating. Robbie knows he’s no genius, but it stings to have his plan called stupid when he’s only trying to do what feels right. Following your heart is supposed to be the honourable choice. ]

... maybe someone else watching it could be okay, if it’s not anybody flaky. I haven’t seen anybody else around today.

[ Because he’s been holed up here. ]

[Dixon jerks back a bit from his own mirror as Robbie gets combative. His brow furrows into a sharp look.]

Hey, I'm just trying to help. You look like shit, and it's probably from sitting in front of that thing for hours. But you know, you come and tell me how well that sitting and watching it thing works out for you. I'll wait.

[He doesn't want to be getting pissy at Robbie, but it's not like he's great at showing concern, and there's something clearly off about this situation - about how Robbie looks, about how he's not copping to being the guy in the images in the mirror, about how Robbie's insisting there's something beyond a pretty picture of his fantasy - and Dixon wants to do something about it but can't seem to figure out what asides from trying to talk sense into Robbie.

Which doesn't appear to be going well, and Dixon's never been all that great at processing not getting what he wants.]

Has anyone told you that mirror does anything?

[ The conversation is rapidly deteriorating. Robbie, for his part, feels like he’s being accused of something that wasn’t even illegal ten minutes ago. The mix of guilt, defensiveness, and the somewhat ingrained automatic default to want to comply with what’s right isn’t helping him see straight. ]

It’s just a tricking mirror! There’s nothing wrong with looking at it. And you can keep waiting, cause I’m not going to tell you if I find anything either.

[ He huffs and pushes his hair back to underline his point, as of to somehow say ‘I’m not worried about how I look’. ]

Brainy said they show you what you want to see. Which is science bullshit for “I don’t know so I’m going to blame magic since there isn’t a telepath to A. blame it on or B. call me out on this.”

Well, Brainy talks a lot of bullshit. [At least they can agree on that. Dixon's taken to just avoiding Brainy, which is easy now that Brainy's in the mirror. There's only so many times you can feel like the only idiot in the room who isn't able to follow the conversation before you just want to go find a squirrel to antagonize to get the drinking shield activated.] But if it shows you what you want to see just try telling me that ain't you in that picture.

[There's a flicker of uncertainty over Dixon's face as he says that, because if he had been on the receiving end that would be hurtful. The subtext would be "so what did you do to fuck it up?". Dixon imagines his heart's desire would bear similar fruit but he has a tangle of regret and bad decisions choking off the vine, a tangle that chokes him up just to think about, much less talk about.]

Go take a fucking bath and a nap. You need it whether you think you do or not.