[Well, ONCE UPON A TIME the mirror was just a nice normal mirror that would show that you were a baby.
Now, he sees himself as he truly is in the present—15-year-old Dahut. Then, flashes of the other appearances. People he's hated, people he's cared about but who met tragic ends. Other forms he's lived, and the ways he's died. His limbs cut off and his heart gouged out, for instance. Ultimately, it ends on an image of him with an arrow through his heart.
Is he truly not willing to continue in this dream? Reality is cruel; he should know that well. There's nothing waiting for him there, except the ugly desire that burns inside of him.
But if he wishes to face all of that, nevertheless, he can step through the mirror.]
He doesn't want power, though!! He just wants a fckin nap!! He... hesitates. Reality is cruel. As he watches these faces and scenes flash across the mirror, he's still and silent in his contemplation. His gaze rests on this final image for several long moments.
Frankly, he doesn't want to face this. He would rather be in a sweet dream where his life didn't devolve into a nightmare, but unfortunately for him, it seems that happens anyway, sooner or later. And if everything is going to eventually devolve into a nightmare, then he might as well face the nightmare that he's known for sixty years.
He steps through the mirror! On the other side, he arrives in a strange dimension, where an eerie aura hangs over everything. "Why is this picture, Jan" it was the best one I could find with an easy search. Hopefully you get the idea of the vibe. Atmosphere aside, his surroundings are familiar to him. It'll be a place he recognizes, whether back home or in the Eudora.
Gradually, he comes to understand his situation. He is a lost soul, wandering in Hell as his dying regrets keep him lingering. If he looks down or reaches up, he'll see that arrow through his heart, though at least in this form, he feels no pain. He's dead, after all!
He can take a stroll through the region if he likes, remembering his life as he takes in the familiarity. Ultimately, though, the area gives way to a place less familiar to him, with another figure in the distance.]
[HELP YOUR IMAGES JAN the vibe is easy enough to get though ALSO LISTEN. HIS SENIOR CITIZEN DISCOUNTS.
Anyway, it can be Scien's office and the Institute itself because that's where he's spent the most collective time in his life, probably. God. That office already has an air of gloom and decay hanging over it anyway because of the ghosts of all of the moldy pieces of bread.
Now he is the moldy bread ghost, though. Damn. HE GUESSES THIS IS HIS LIFE NOW. Or his afterlife. This is fine! At least the arrow through his chest doesn't hurt. He just kind of rests his hand on it like it's a fun new accessory as he meanders around, pondering all of the dumbass decisions that have led him to this point.
There's a little bit of hesitation as he starts edging into new territory, though. The figure likewise is something he's cautious of on instinct. HE. HE'LL WALK... THAT WAY... SQUINTING. Is this a familiar figure. A shadow figure. Satan come to challenge him to a drinking contest, perhaps...]
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Now, he sees himself as he truly is in the present—15-year-old Dahut. Then, flashes of the other appearances. People he's hated, people he's cared about but who met tragic ends. Other forms he's lived, and the ways he's died. His limbs cut off and his heart gouged out, for instance. Ultimately, it ends on an image of him with an arrow through his heart.
Is he truly not willing to continue in this dream? Reality is cruel; he should know that well. There's nothing waiting for him there, except the ugly desire that burns inside of him.
But if he wishes to face all of that, nevertheless, he can step through the mirror.]
no subject
He doesn't want power, though!! He just wants a fckin nap!! He... hesitates. Reality is cruel. As he watches these faces and scenes flash across the mirror, he's still and silent in his contemplation. His gaze rests on this final image for several long moments.
Frankly, he doesn't want to face this. He would rather be in a sweet dream where his life didn't devolve into a nightmare, but unfortunately for him, it seems that happens anyway, sooner or later. And if everything is going to eventually devolve into a nightmare, then he might as well face the nightmare that he's known for sixty years.
Quietly, spoken to no one, he says:]
I love you... I miss you. I'll see you very soon.
[And then, he steps through the mirror.]
no subject
He steps through the mirror! On the other side, he arrives in a strange dimension, where an eerie aura hangs over everything. "Why is this picture, Jan" it was the best one I could find with an easy search. Hopefully you get the idea of the vibe. Atmosphere aside, his surroundings are familiar to him. It'll be a place he recognizes, whether back home or in the Eudora.
Gradually, he comes to understand his situation. He is a lost soul, wandering in Hell as his dying regrets keep him lingering. If he looks down or reaches up, he'll see that arrow through his heart, though at least in this form, he feels no pain. He's dead, after all!
He can take a stroll through the region if he likes, remembering his life as he takes in the familiarity. Ultimately, though, the area gives way to a place less familiar to him, with another figure in the distance.]
no subject
Anyway, it can be Scien's office and the Institute itself because that's where he's spent the most collective time in his life, probably. God. That office already has an air of gloom and decay hanging over it anyway because of the ghosts of all of the moldy pieces of bread.
Now he is the moldy bread ghost, though. Damn. HE GUESSES THIS IS HIS LIFE NOW. Or his afterlife. This is fine! At least the arrow through his chest doesn't hurt. He just kind of rests his hand on it like it's a fun new accessory as he meanders around, pondering all of the dumbass decisions that have led him to this point.
There's a little bit of hesitation as he starts edging into new territory, though. The figure likewise is something he's cautious of on instinct. HE. HE'LL WALK... THAT WAY... SQUINTING. Is this a familiar figure. A shadow figure. Satan come to challenge him to a drinking contest, perhaps...]
no subject