[ h-haha. she's going to spoil him, is that it...? well, he isn't averse to the thought at all, personally. he'll have to find some way to properly repay her, of course. Abel's smiling a little more fondly as he nods his assent, quite pleased at the invitation. ]
Mm, a friend of mine is quite dearly attached to tea-making...! She comes up with new recipes whenever she has spare time... I bet she'd talk my ear off for the details, if you've got something new and interesting for me to try!
[ house of mirrors, huh...? oh, is that one of those attractions where your reflection becomes super tall or skinny or fat or-- he's ALL about this, ]
--Aha! Perfect, just what I was in the mood for, something with no clowns!!
[ Monts don't joke about the clowns
he is becoming even more sensitive about clowns after this entire experience ]
[ Oddly enough, there is no clown staffer in sight to greet them at the entrance. It's open so anyone is free to go inside. That makes Monts pause for a few seconds to give the place a once over. ]
... I wonder... It'd be good if we had a way to remember where the entrance is in case this turns into a, "you can't leave for a set amount of time," sort of deal.
[ fool me once fogtown...! ]
But if it's our last stop, I think we'll be fine. We survived the bumper cars after all.
[ w-wait, she isn't saying she's afraid they might get stuck inside, is she? he's hesitating just a moment before inevitably trotting in after her. ]
--That, ah. Sounds a little... um, I guess we'll just have to try and be mindful of where we're going, right? [ all joking aside, he will do his best to remain cognizant of their surroundings. everything has been harmless so far, but
[ She mutters this to herself mostly, but regardless, is going inside. The hallway leading to the mirrors is dimly lit before they see the mirrors properly. ]
Kind of barren so far...
[ Her mark pulsates from the back of her neck; it's the first time it's done so since they entered the carnival which means this whole venture probably doesn't bode well. ]
...I'd like to avoid property damage, if we can help it-- I mean, don't they say breaking a mirror is seven years bad luck...? I really can't afford that kind of misfortune, Miss Monts, I don't know about you...
[ captain notorious hideous luck over here, hello, he's probably infecting Monts by proximity!!
...but the interior is strangely dim, quiet, and uneventful for the fare one might expect from Fogtown. maybe the only curse to be suffered here is boredom?? ]
Do you think it's, ah. Closed, or something? There was no one outside...
You know, it'd be terribly like this place for this to be a house of literal mirrors. Nothing weird about it. Just one big hoax, you know...?
[ a sigh over her shoulder, though he's still peering around as if he's waiting for something to jump out at them, spook them... their images to warp into clowns, so on and so forth-- ]
--Just try and remember, 'seven years,' Miss Monts! That's a long time...! You don't need any more foul luck, as far as I can tell...
[ you know, just... saying, after that fortune telling, ]
I'll have to ask my friend if that's an actual thing or if that's a superstition.
[ She muses about it for a minute as they walk down the hall. The mirrors start to distort their reflections as a usual house of mirrors would do; skinny, squished, wide. If they bother to look up, there are even mirrors on the ceiling.
Monts even laughs and points at Abel's reflection on one mirror.]
Hah! You're an absolute giant in that one.
[ in contrast, her reflection made her look super small compared to the priest whose image made him comically tall. Well, more so than usual. ]
[ catching sight of himself at her behest, he's abruptly doing what all adults must do when faced with a mirror distorting their image -- making stupid faces and wobbling around...... smh, ]
O-ohh, I could step on you, how are you so small...?! Wait, how does that even work? Th-this is so silly--
[ he's trying to wiggle appropriately to get in front of the proper mirror to shrink him down to size-- MOOONTS stop hogging the MIIIIRRORRRR ]
[ For this moment of genuine levity, Monts is truly enjoying herself in a small way. She rolls her eyes at Abel and turns her back towards him so she can hide her smile. ]
It's times like this where I do think it's kind of wasteful that you're a priest.
[ She had kept that thought to herself for a while, but it seems alright to let it be known. ]
[ he's turning to blink quizzically at her, but... not wanting to be left behind, is quickly following after in her footsteps!! ]
...Ah, yes, that's very kind of you to be looking out for me and my propensity for vertigo. It truly is a shame, sucks all the fun out of those spinny rides like the ones outside. Hey, Miss Monts - do you like roller coasters...?
[ he will just ramble forever, dw about ever having a lapse in conversation, ]
[ And that's all she's willing to admit in regards to him, hmph!! She lets him ramble onto her, just nodding in agreement or shrugging in response to his questions that are sprinkled in. Eventually, their reflections on the mirrors normalize again until... ]
...
[ They've reached a rather unusual part of the building. How unusual? ]
Hm. I don't see either of our reflections.
[ It's true, they're standing in front of another set of mirrors in a different dimly lit hallway, but there's nothing looking back at them except a clear glossy surface that only shows the hallway they're standing in. ]
We're at the weird part now I believe Father Abel.
[ he nearly bumps into her where she's gone still, and mumbles a distracted apology - looking out into the array of mirrors before them. it is quite weird, seeing their reflections absent and only the open hall behind them.
... ]
Oooh, this is interesting! One of those... optical illusions? [ he's peering around for where the other mirrors must be that are causing this particular trick of the eye. ]
It's like we're ghosts... [ cue the wibbly fingers and making "ooOOooo" noises, ]
[ vampires, she says? he's huffing at that, grumbling something about misconceptions and how the silver in mirrors made that whole thing very confusing--
but his attention is slowly being stolen by the feeling in the air. it's definitely palpable, isn't it? almost like something malignant, just out of reach. something from periphery that moves before you can glimpse it - just present enough to form disquiet.
Abel's gently nudging at his glasses in that habitual way, eyes sharpening softly behind the old-fashioned lenses. he steps a tad closer to her, ]
No... I mean-- yes, I definitely heard it too. Is someone else ahead of us...?
Could be... I didn't see anyone else we know around the carnivalβ
[ Before she can continue the running footsteps approach closer and closer until there's a small figure of a girl that can be seen dashing through the mirrors. Monts' eyes follow the girl before it stops right in front of the both of them, directly in front of Monts herself.
Through the low lighting, what they're able to make out is a dirty yellow sundress decorated with white flowers. The girl's feet are clad with sandals with sand clinging to her ankles and hands. Her braids are messy and she trembles as she gazes up at the two of them, but most uncanny of all was that they cannot make out her face as if there was a veil of shadow that hid her eyes from the both of them.
Monts feels her heart drop. ]
O-Ohβ... That's... Who...?
[ The mirror girl's body continues to shivers as if she realizes she's not alone on the other side. ]
a cursory glance over the rest of the room assures him that he and Monts are alone. there's no one else here; they hadn't seen a child enter, either. and the face--
this is... is this real? he glances side-long to Monts at the sound of her voice -- there's an abrupt unsteadiness to it, and his brow furrows softly. he can't tell if she's disquieted by the abrupt appearance of the child, or... if it's something deeper than that.
...his fingers stretch, touching the mirror's surface as if to ensure it really was there and this wasn't some kind of otherworldly doorway, some rift opened up to take them somewhere else. the cool, solid glass is all that meets his fingertips. ]
...Hello? Can you hear us?
[ is this girl really there? can she see them or hear them...?
[ Upon closer inspection, the child's complexion is actually similar to Monts. Monts is about to speak up as well after Abel asks if the child can hear them, but thenβ
The girl points her finger at Monts with her own question asked in a quiet whisper.]
Who ARE you?
[ Her mark begins to vibrate underneath her skin and Monts is having a strange sensation that can only be described as deja vu. When she finds her words again, she tries to respond. ]
Sorry, I don't know what you meanβ...
Who are you? Are you me? That's not supposed to happen!
[ The mirror girl sets her hands on the side of her body curled up into angry fists. ]
What are you doing there? You're not me! You're not me, you're not me, you're not me!!! You faker, you liar, you, you, youβ...!!
[ The girl takes a step forward and for no reason, Monts can explain, she takes a step back. ]
Give it back! You're not supposed to be me!! GIVE IT BACK!!
[ the girl can see them? ...see Monts, at least. the disquieted look on Monts' face as the child casts her ire out is...
you're 'not me?' --ah. her complexion is similar, isn't it? her hair, and what he can see of the face, it might just be...
...he's gently resting a hand on her shoulder to steady her, trying to step between her and the image of the child reflected on the surface of the mirror. ]
--It's not real.
[ trying to goad her to look at him, instead of the ghost of a girl who cannot be here in this room - because she already is. ]
It's alright. Let's find out way out, okay...? [ why is this place so impossible to pin down? one moment, it was kind, light-hearted - even generous. and others... it liked to dig and prod at places it had no right going with such callous ease. he really hates this look in her eyes. ]
Abel, Iβ... [ Monts allows him to step in between her and the reflection, but the mirror girl continues her tirade against the older girl. ]
Give it back! Why did you have to do that back then!? GIVE IT BACK, GIVE IT BACK!!
[ Her voice is turning into high-pitched and feverish shrieks as her small fists begin to beat against the mirror from her side. It gives off the terrifying effect of making the other mirrors in the hall shudder from the force of the girl's continued hits. ]
GET OUT! GET OUT OF ME YOU MONSTER, GIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACK!!!
[ Cracks begin to form in the spot where the mirror girl was beating her fist against. Monts' eyes widen and without thinking, she shoves Abel aside. ]
Watch out!!
[ The mirror girl's screams finally end as the mirror cracks and breaks, shards flying in their direction, but mostly at Monts who doesn't even flinch as pieces of glass land on her face, some shards leaving cuts on her forehead and cheeks and even on her eyelids. The girl is gone and it's silent with only a hole in the wall to indicate there was something even there. ]
Father Abel, are you okay?
[ Monts is the one asking that and yet she took the brunt of the broken mirror. As she looks at the priest, her wounds are already closing although traces of blood trickle down her cheek and onto her neck. ]
[ it's terribly hard to ignore the frantic, near manic cries from behind him -- and though he tells himself it would be best to ignore the spectre that isn't truly here, he spares a glance for the child's vicious demands. her small hands beat against the surface furiously -- her anger, her accusation felt in every reverberation of the room.
--and before he can open his mouth to try and plead his case with her, he finds himself unceremoniously shoved and stumbling aside, catching himself along the length of a mirror. he flinches instinctively as glass pieces scatter and spray outward, lifting an arm to guard his face; due to Monts' fast action, there's nigh but a few pieces stuck harmlessly in his coat, barely a shallow cut at his cheekbone.
the priest dazedly takes in the state of the wall where the broken mirror had been. illusion or not... whatever she had been had a very real effect on this place. but he doesn't dwell long-- taking in the sight of Monts' scratched up face, and... ]
You're bleeding--
[ whether she feels pain or not isn't any concern of his. Abel is straightening and quickly bridging the meager gap between them, eyes flickering over the thin lines of red marring her face, her throat. apologetically wincing (even if she might not feel it), he's reaching out to oh-so-gently pry little glass pieces from where they'd been lodged. ]
...Sit still, just for a moment. Are you alright--? That, ah...
[ ...was unpleasant, to say the least. was that girl truly her? her hatred, her anger... her pain.
[ She nods in confirmation and stands still as he removes the remaining shards. ]
I can register most textures and temperatures, just not if it's causing me damage. Soft, hard, smooth, rough, different types of cloth, and most everything else. I have tastebuds too. I can feel warm and cold, but anything extreme, my body starts to tune it out.
[Such as a burn on her hand or if she's in a cold environment below zero. ]
It becomes hard for me to notice unless parts of me can't function. And even then, I'll just get back up.
... You know, for the longest time, I really couldn't sympathize with anyone who was in pain because I didn't understand what it was like.
[ When she couldn't sympathize, she couldn't be kind and it shut off part of her that was supposed to be human. ]
My grandfather had to explain it to me in his own way. So I get it to an extent... But it's a reminder to me you know? That I'm not...
[ She trails off unsure of how to end her sentence or what words would sound correct without being too pitiful. ]
his expression slowly softens, and-- he nods. there is something a little complicated in his eyes as he mulls this over, but inevitably - the encouraging sort of smile finds his lips again as he plucks out the last little pieces. ]
You look perfectly you, from here.
[ 'so don't worry about it'? no; he knows better than to try and dismiss something as deep-seated as anxiety over identity and finding her place in the world. but Monts is Monts... it's as simple as that, right? it is to him, anyway. ]
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no subject
Mm, a friend of mine is quite dearly attached to tea-making...! She comes up with new recipes whenever she has spare time... I bet she'd talk my ear off for the details, if you've got something new and interesting for me to try!
[ house of mirrors, huh...? oh, is that one of those attractions where your reflection becomes super tall or skinny or fat or-- he's ALL about this, ]
--Aha! Perfect, just what I was in the mood for, something with no clowns!!
[ Monts don't joke about the clowns
he is becoming even more sensitive about clowns after this entire experience ]
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... I wonder... It'd be good if we had a way to remember where the entrance is in case this turns into a, "you can't leave for a set amount of time," sort of deal.
[ fool me once fogtown...! ]
But if it's our last stop, I think we'll be fine. We survived the bumper cars after all.
[ So in we go! ]
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[ w-wait, she isn't saying she's afraid they might get stuck inside, is she? he's hesitating just a moment before inevitably trotting in after her. ]
--That, ah. Sounds a little... um, I guess we'll just have to try and be mindful of where we're going, right? [ all joking aside, he will do his best to remain cognizant of their surroundings. everything has been harmless so far, but
you never know... ]
no subject
[ She mutters this to herself mostly, but regardless, is going inside. The hallway leading to the mirrors is dimly lit before they see the mirrors properly. ]
Kind of barren so far...
[ Her mark pulsates from the back of her neck; it's the first time it's done so since they entered the carnival which means this whole venture probably doesn't bode well. ]
no subject
[ captain notorious hideous luck over here, hello, he's probably infecting Monts by proximity!!
...but the interior is strangely dim, quiet, and uneventful for the fare one might expect from Fogtown. maybe the only curse to be suffered here is boredom?? ]
Do you think it's, ah. Closed, or something? There was no one outside...
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[ As they walk further I to the building they'll finally enter into a hallway with mirrors. So far though? They reflect their images normally. ]
I'll try not to break any mirrors, but no promises. I'm thinking we'll encounter the real weird mirrors the farther we go.
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[ a sigh over her shoulder, though he's still peering around as if he's waiting for something to jump out at them, spook them... their images to warp into clowns, so on and so forth-- ]
--Just try and remember, 'seven years,' Miss Monts! That's a long time...! You don't need any more foul luck, as far as I can tell...
[ you know, just... saying, after that fortune telling, ]
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[ She muses about it for a minute as they walk down the hall. The mirrors start to distort their reflections as a usual house of mirrors would do; skinny, squished, wide. If they bother to look up, there are even mirrors on the ceiling.
Monts even laughs and points at Abel's reflection on one mirror.]
Hah! You're an absolute giant in that one.
[ in contrast, her reflection made her look super small compared to the priest whose image made him comically tall. Well, more so than usual. ]
no subject
O-ohh, I could step on you, how are you so small...?! Wait, how does that even work? Th-this is so silly--
[ he's trying to wiggle appropriately to get in front of the proper mirror to shrink him down to size-- MOOONTS stop hogging the MIIIIRRORRRR ]
no subject
It's times like this where I do think it's kind of wasteful that you're a priest.
[ She had kept that thought to herself for a while, but it seems alright to let it be known. ]
C'mon, let's go before you make yourself dizzy.
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[ he's turning to blink quizzically at her, but... not wanting to be left behind, is quickly following after in her footsteps!! ]
...Ah, yes, that's very kind of you to be looking out for me and my propensity for vertigo. It truly is a shame, sucks all the fun out of those spinny rides like the ones outside. Hey, Miss Monts - do you like roller coasters...?
[ he will just ramble forever, dw about ever having a lapse in conversation, ]
no subject
[ And that's all she's willing to admit in regards to him, hmph!! She lets him ramble onto her, just nodding in agreement or shrugging in response to his questions that are sprinkled in. Eventually, their reflections on the mirrors normalize again until... ]
...
[ They've reached a rather unusual part of the building. How unusual? ]
Hm. I don't see either of our reflections.
[ It's true, they're standing in front of another set of mirrors in a different dimly lit hallway, but there's nothing looking back at them except a clear glossy surface that only shows the hallway they're standing in. ]
We're at the weird part now I believe Father Abel.
no subject
... ]
Oooh, this is interesting! One of those... optical illusions? [ he's peering around for where the other mirrors must be that are causing this particular trick of the eye. ]
It's like we're ghosts... [ cue the wibbly fingers and making "ooOOooo" noises, ]
no subject
[ Cause get it, vampires don't have reflections.... GET IT????
Monts on her end is alert. This part of the building is giving off an eerier impression than the first few hallways as they go even deeper. ]
... Do you hear something?
[ It's the sound of running footsteps in the distance... Monts tries to gauge the direction and turns a corner. ]
It's not just me, right? I definitely heard something.
no subject
but his attention is slowly being stolen by the feeling in the air. it's definitely palpable, isn't it? almost like something malignant, just out of reach. something from periphery that moves before you can glimpse it - just present enough to form disquiet.
Abel's gently nudging at his glasses in that habitual way, eyes sharpening softly behind the old-fashioned lenses. he steps a tad closer to her, ]
No... I mean-- yes, I definitely heard it too. Is someone else ahead of us...?
no subject
[ Before she can continue the running footsteps approach closer and closer until there's a small figure of a girl that can be seen dashing through the mirrors. Monts' eyes follow the girl before it stops right in front of the both of them, directly in front of Monts herself.
Through the low lighting, what they're able to make out is a dirty yellow sundress decorated with white flowers. The girl's feet are clad with sandals with sand clinging to her ankles and hands. Her braids are messy and she trembles as she gazes up at the two of them, but most uncanny of all was that they cannot make out her face as if there was a veil of shadow that hid her eyes from the both of them.
Monts feels her heart drop. ]
O-Ohβ... That's... Who...?
[ The mirror girl's body continues to shivers as if she realizes she's not alone on the other side. ]
no subject
a cursory glance over the rest of the room assures him that he and Monts are alone. there's no one else here; they hadn't seen a child enter, either. and the face--
this is... is this real? he glances side-long to Monts at the sound of her voice -- there's an abrupt unsteadiness to it, and his brow furrows softly. he can't tell if she's disquieted by the abrupt appearance of the child, or... if it's something deeper than that.
...his fingers stretch, touching the mirror's surface as if to ensure it really was there and this wasn't some kind of otherworldly doorway, some rift opened up to take them somewhere else. the cool, solid glass is all that meets his fingertips. ]
...Hello? Can you hear us?
[ is this girl really there? can she see them or hear them...?
is this real? ]
no subject
The girl points her finger at Monts with her own question asked in a quiet whisper.]
Who ARE you?
[ Her mark begins to vibrate underneath her skin and Monts is having a strange sensation that can only be described as deja vu. When she finds her words again, she tries to respond. ]
Sorry, I don't know what you meanβ...
Who are you? Are you me? That's not supposed to happen!
[ The mirror girl sets her hands on the side of her body curled up into angry fists. ]
What are you doing there? You're not me! You're not me, you're not me, you're not me!!! You faker, you liar, you, you, youβ...!!
[ The girl takes a step forward and for no reason, Monts can explain, she takes a step back. ]
Give it back! You're not supposed to be me!! GIVE IT BACK!!
no subject
you're 'not me?' --ah. her complexion is similar, isn't it? her hair, and what he can see of the face, it might just be...
...he's gently resting a hand on her shoulder to steady her, trying to step between her and the image of the child reflected on the surface of the mirror. ]
--It's not real.
[ trying to goad her to look at him, instead of the ghost of a girl who cannot be here in this room - because she already is. ]
It's alright. Let's find out way out, okay...? [ why is this place so impossible to pin down? one moment, it was kind, light-hearted - even generous. and others... it liked to dig and prod at places it had no right going with such callous ease. he really hates this look in her eyes. ]
no subject
Give it back! Why did you have to do that back then!? GIVE IT BACK, GIVE IT BACK!!
[ Her voice is turning into high-pitched and feverish shrieks as her small fists begin to beat against the mirror from her side. It gives off the terrifying effect of making the other mirrors in the hall shudder from the force of the girl's continued hits. ]
GET OUT! GET OUT OF ME YOU MONSTER, GIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACKGIVEITBACK!!!
[ Cracks begin to form in the spot where the mirror girl was beating her fist against. Monts' eyes widen and without thinking, she shoves Abel aside. ]
Watch out!!
[ The mirror girl's screams finally end as the mirror cracks and breaks, shards flying in their direction, but mostly at Monts who doesn't even flinch as pieces of glass land on her face, some shards leaving cuts on her forehead and cheeks and even on her eyelids. The girl is gone and it's silent with only a hole in the wall to indicate there was something even there. ]
Father Abel, are you okay?
[ Monts is the one asking that and yet she took the brunt of the broken mirror. As she looks at the priest, her wounds are already closing although traces of blood trickle down her cheek and onto her neck. ]
Sorry, I wasn't thinking andβ...!
no subject
--and before he can open his mouth to try and plead his case with her, he finds himself unceremoniously shoved and stumbling aside, catching himself along the length of a mirror. he flinches instinctively as glass pieces scatter and spray outward, lifting an arm to guard his face; due to Monts' fast action, there's nigh but a few pieces stuck harmlessly in his coat, barely a shallow cut at his cheekbone.
the priest dazedly takes in the state of the wall where the broken mirror had been. illusion or not... whatever she had been had a very real effect on this place. but he doesn't dwell long-- taking in the sight of Monts' scratched up face, and... ]
You're bleeding--
[ whether she feels pain or not isn't any concern of his. Abel is straightening and quickly bridging the meager gap between them, eyes flickering over the thin lines of red marring her face, her throat. apologetically wincing (even if she might not feel it), he's reaching out to oh-so-gently pry little glass pieces from where they'd been lodged. ]
...Sit still, just for a moment. Are you alright--? That, ah...
[ ...was unpleasant, to say the least. was that girl truly her? her hatred, her anger... her pain.
'monster.' ... ]
no subject
I'm fine. It doesn't hurt.
[ Even if that were true on the surface level, the look her eyes (she barely blinks as he takes out the glass from her face) says so otherwise. ]
... Guess we'll be stuck in here for the time being together, huh?
[ It's not a question of if they're stuck, it's just how long will it be at this point. ]
no subject
You don't feel any of this at all...?
[ he knows. but it's simply painful to look at, and he supposes being cut off like this is unpleasant in its own way. ]
...Do you feel anything? [ what about more pleasant sensations? petting a dog's fur, or feeling someone's hair through your fingers.
...if they can't escape, then-- he might as well address this. ]
no subject
I can register most textures and temperatures, just not if it's causing me damage. Soft, hard, smooth, rough, different types of cloth, and most everything else. I have tastebuds too. I can feel warm and cold, but anything extreme, my body starts to tune it out.
[Such as a burn on her hand or if she's in a cold environment below zero. ]
It becomes hard for me to notice unless parts of me can't function. And even then, I'll just get back up.
... You know, for the longest time, I really couldn't sympathize with anyone who was in pain because I didn't understand what it was like.
[ When she couldn't sympathize, she couldn't be kind and it shut off part of her that was supposed to be human. ]
My grandfather had to explain it to me in his own way. So I get it to an extent... But it's a reminder to me you know? That I'm not...
[ She trails off unsure of how to end her sentence or what words would sound correct without being too pitiful. ]
no subject
his expression slowly softens, and-- he nods. there is something a little complicated in his eyes as he mulls this over, but inevitably - the encouraging sort of smile finds his lips again as he plucks out the last little pieces. ]
You look perfectly you, from here.
[ 'so don't worry about it'? no; he knows better than to try and dismiss something as deep-seated as anxiety over identity and finding her place in the world. but Monts is Monts... it's as simple as that, right? it is to him, anyway. ]
Good as new.
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