Two-Faced: Pray4me x Robin man

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Pray4me, May 10, 2015.

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  1. What to do with this mirror? Out of all the things, this mirror?

    It sat against the wall of the bedroom, it's gold frame chipping the dark blue paint slightly. The frame was simple in design, a square shape with a deep carving down the center of the frame. The top and bottom of the frame had an grapevine inspired design as well as the four corners.

    The mirror itself was nearly spotless beside a few scratches and dings at the center. Though, the mirror was a bit cloudy and a bit hard to get a reflection from. There were some attempts to make it more clearer, but it resulted in an odd circular pattern around the entire mirror.

    The family told stories about the mirror and how it always reacted strangely when unfortunate events occurred. Most of the time, it tilted to it side as hit hanged as if depressed. When grandmother died, it fell completely off the wall when the coroners took her body away.

    Tonight is the eve of grandmother's funeral. Already laid out is a black suit, black dress shoes, and a small letter saying goodbye to her. Mom and Dad are already in bed, but every so often the clicking sounds of their lamp is heard.

    It was time for bed as well. The funeral starts exactly at 8am with the reception brunch from noon to 3pm.
    #1 Pray4me, May 10, 2015
    Last edited: Sep 14, 2015
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  2. Sylvester slowly climbed up the ladder leading to the attic. He turned on the lite to see at least some of the attic. He looked around for the mirror for a few moments. It's been a really long time since he's been up here the last time he remembered being up here for the mirror.

    The last time he saw it was when he was helping his grandfather move it up here, that was about a decade ago. Sylvester slowly walked to the mirror after he saw it. He looked over the mirror to see if it was till there. He nearly forgotten about it, it wasn't until today.

    He walked over to the old mirror to get a closer look. He could see that it wasn't in a good mood. He wouldn't blame it thanks to today. Today was a depressing day. He held the mirror and he put it back into place.

    "I'm sorry old mirror." He said softly to the mirror as he wiped it off. He felt a tear forming on his eyes and he wiped them away as be cleared up his throat.

    "I remember all of the fun me and grandmother had with you." He said softly. He remembered all of the times he would try on costumes or make silly faces at the mirror. At the time he could tell that the mirror was enjoying itself. He sighed as he looked at the swirls in the glass.

    "They could never clear you up." He said sadly as he looked around for a old chair. He soon found one and pulled it up before he sat down in front of the mirror.
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  3. The mirror showed Sylvester's reflection dully and distorted. Each day since grandmother's death, the mirror seemed to be getting worse and worse. The once proud mirror that brought a smile to anyone's face appearing in it can now only manage to show the person's outline of the head, nose and mouth with everything else being a blurry mess.

    Most noticeable change were the person's eyes in the mirror. They now seemed like empty sockets in the reflection looking endlessly into despair. The mirror was slowly dying.

    As Sylvester sat in front of the mirror on the chair, the mirror tried it's very best to give a decent reflection of the new owner. The longer that Sylvester would sit, the reflection slightly improved. His face was much more recognizable and his eyes began to show through the sunken dark sockets the mirror usually displayed.

    With the mirror rocking slightly against the wall, Sylvester's hair slowly turned from it's normal color to a bluish black and his eyes glowed to an emerald green. At the bottom left corner of the mirror, where some of the swirls were located, five beige spots slowly appeared in a crescent pattern. They seemed to look like they were pressing against the mirror, almost pushing through it.

    Finally, with a final rock, Sylvester's reflection began to slowly open it's mouth in an almost depressing moan.
  4. Sylvester chuckled to himself as he looked at the slowly improving reflection. He could that the mirror was trying to improve. But it was certainly slow progress. He gently rubbed the mirrors side of the mirror. "Your a good old mirror." He said softly to himself.

    He slowly started to leaned away from the reflection. He knew he wasn't doing that. What the hell was going on? How can reflection do something that the person wasn't doing? His curiosity was slowly getting the better of him, even though he knew that this can be a bad idea to do so.

    He reached over and he gently touched the glass of the mirror. "What the hell is going on here?" He asked himself as he kept rubbing the glass slowly.
  5. His hand's reflection followed his movements along the cool mirror exactly. The mirror stopped rocking, giving up against whatever internal battle it was having. Now, the mirror returned to being a lifeless artifact that was cherished by grandmother.

    Soon, the reflection's movements began to slow, trailing a few inches behind Sylvester's hand. The face of the reflection leaned in closer, the bluish black hair falling gently over the emerald eyes, the mouth continuing to move as it questioning itself. The reflection tilted its head, nodding softly and bit its bottom lip.

    When, in a brief second, a pale hand shot through the mirror and wrapped tightly around Sylvester's wrist. The mirror's surface split around the unknown hand that was now tugging harder and harder to bring Sylvester closer.

    Another hand emerged, reaching to grab Sylvester's forearm. It's nails clawed at Sylvester in a desperate, almost panic attempt, to grab onto anything. The face had a look of horror, eyes wide and mouth dropped open.

    A muffled "What the fuck" echoed throughout the attic as the hand continued to pull on Sylvester's wrist.
  6. Sylvester kept looking over the curious reflection closely. He couldn't think of anything that could be causing the mirror to do anything like this. He gasped very softy when the mirror seemed to have stop finally.

    "What the hell?" He asked himself before the first hand reached from the mirror and grabbed his wrist. He felt the pull against him, he kept his footing as he started to pull away

    Then he saw the second hand reached out and grabbed the forearm. With his other arm he held onto the wall that held the mirror up before he started to pull against the force.

    "Let go!" He demanded to the mysterious arms that seemed to have a voice as well. The voice oddly enough sounded like his. What the hell was going on?
  7. The creature from the mirror clawed its way up Sylvester's arm, using Sylvester resistance to its advantage. The face on the mirror began to press against the surface of it, the eyes and mouth closing tightly as if it was holding its breath under deep water.

    Another muffled voice echoed throughout the still attic, this time sounding painful. The hands squeezed Sylvester's arm in a death grip as a face slowly pushed through the surface. The face was twisted in pain.

    "Pull! Pull! hurts!" the voice cried. "Oh god!"

    He briefly opened his eyes and stared directly into Sylvester's. His face, now mixed with expressions of pain, confusion, and scared, was starting to turn red from the strain of pulling. With a few more hard pulls from both boys, he flopped out the mirror and landed hard onto the ground. He let out a low groan and curled up into a loose ball. Heavy breathing escaped his flared nostrils as his eyes shut tightly again.

    The mirror's surface now looked like a peeled can of tuna with the surface split cleaning in half and the two halves bent back. Through the gaping hole of the mirror was the sight of the attic, but in a reverse arrangement.

    Another low groan was heard from the boy on the floor as he rolled on the ground.
  8. Sylvester kept pulling during the struggle. He didn't know what else he should do in this situation. He couldn't help but to stumble back when the body flew out of the mirror.

    He looked down at the body for a few seconds in a state shock of what just happened. There was no logical way that someone could fly out of a mirror like that. Maybe that mirror was more then just a mirror.

    He kneeled down next to the body to check him over to make he was fine. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked the person, he asked him. His body seems to be intact, at least on the outside.
  9. He gasped for breath, rolling onto all fours and struggled to push himself up.

    "Does...does..." he coughed. "...does it look like I'm okay?? Wait...wait...who am I talking to..."

    His eyes wandered up to see Sylvester kneeling near him. The boy blinked, taken back by the sight.

    "No, this must be a dream," the boy sat on the ground and buried his face in his hands. He rubbed his face vigorously before looking up at Sylvester again. "Why am I talking to myself? Why am I looking at myself?"

    The boy reached out his hand towards Sylvester's face. His fingertips barely grazed against Sylvester's cheek before he quickly reeled his hand back. The once red face now paled to a ghostly white as his lip began to tremble slightly. The only explanation for all of this was a nightmare gone too real. It has happened before. The nightmare of drowning and that moment you lose breath you wake up panting. This had to be a similar dream.

    "...I know I didn't fall asleep though...I was sitting in front of the mirror..." he continued on, staring up at Sylvester. " no."

    With a shaky struggle, the boy slowly stood, placing a hand on the mirror to help him up. He let out a small wince of pain, feeling a sharp sensation across his chest.
  10. Sylvester jumped back at what seemed to be himself. He gently held his cheek, that was real contact for sure. This was making him worried. He pinched himself to see if he was dreaming, but unfortunately he wasn't dreaming.

    "Who the hell are you?" He asked the stranger cautiously as he held out one arm to keep him away. "And how the hell did you come out of the mirror? There's no way that any of this should be happening."

    Sylvester was absolutely losing it at this point, between the mirror breaking, this clone of whatever the hell it is now in front of him, he had no idea on what he should do at this point.
  11. "Me? Who the hell are you?!" the boy shouted back.

    He straightened his posture and let out a deep breath, looking at Sylvester. It was amazing how exact Sylvester looked like him except for hair and eye color. Everything else was perfect. They were even wearing the same outfit with his outfit being more of a gray color.

    "Like I know! I was looking in the mirror and then I saw a random hand waving around. So, I reached for it and my hand fell through the mirror," the boy explained. "Next thing I knew I was being pulled and sucked in and ended up in this nightmare!"

    The boy turned to look at the gaping hole in the center of the mirror. It showed his attic with his chair that fell over from the struggle. He cautiously stuck his hand through the hole and wiggled his fingers on the other side.

    "This is too crazy..." he said to himself before looking back at Sylvester. "This has to be a dream. There's no way I can fall through a mirror and be talking to my reflection! But...why the hell is my hair a brown color and my eyes...something else...and why is this attic backwards to how it's suppose to be?"

    The boy turned to face Sylvester again and took a step closer, making sure to be just in front of Sylvester's extended arm.

    "And I felt So, this can't be a're me and I'm you. We're the same...listen, what did you do today at grandmother's funeral? I need to know exactly what you did!"
  12. "So you really did come out of the old mirror." Sylvester said softly as he looked over the mirror. He never thought that this old mirror could've been a portal to another plane of reality. Grandma was certainly a collector for interesting things. "And this is how this attic has always been. It's yours that's backward possibly." He said trying to think. He heard his clone asked about what he did at the funeral today.

    He started to recollect his thoughts of what he did at the funeral. "Um. I talked to my Aunt Janet, she told me that the mirror is all mine now. Because she's been begging for it for a while. After the burial, I went to the house to eat and talk to my relatives. I had two egg salad sandwiches, and a cup of lemonade." He said trying to think clearly.

    He wanted to give his clone every detail he could think of immediately to see if what the clone did was similar to him. "What about you? What did you do?" He asked him. For all Sylvester knew this clone could've had a completely different experience of what happened at the funeral.
  13. "I talked to Aunt Janet who told me that the mirror was mine even though she really wants it. After they put grandmother in the ground I went to eat and had to talk to the rest of the family. I...I had egg salad sandwiches...I think two...and a giant glass of lemonade..." he said slowly.

    He stepped closer, weaving around Sylvester's arm until he stood just in front of him. He shook his head to brush away his hair from his face.

    "No way! You are me! Holy shit!" he said excitedly. "I knew grandmother collected some creepy stuff but damn did she hit the jackpot with that mirror!"

    All the anxious feeling was replaced with excitement. This was too unbelievable that the mirror was some sort of portal to another world...another alternate universe! A big smile spread across his face.

    "Oh geez it's great to meet me!" he held out his hand for a friendly handshake. "Do they call you Sylv here too? I go by Sylv since Sylvester is to long for me to write out. You can call me Sylv! Oh my god why aren't you more excited about this?"

    Sylv was ready to hug his alternate self if the guy wouldn't hurry and shake his hand. Maybe, maybe now things could finally start going well for him in his life. For years, Sylv felt he was fated for a sad life as he had no goals or life ambition. But, by meeting his alternate self, he can probably change his life for the better.

    "I wonder if you can come on my side..." he began to think.
  14. Sylvester raised a eyebrow at the mans excitement.He could see where the excitement was coming from. But Sylvester wasn't feeling excitement, he was slowly forming a sense of worry. What if somebody started coming through the portal. People would start asking why there are people that look just like them roaming around. But he had to keep a calm looking face so his clone won't get suspicious.

    He reached over and he shook Sylvs hand as he shook his head. "No, I use Sylvester still. It's just what I prefer." He said softly. Then Sylv said about Sylvester going over to his side. He started to get worried again. He bit his lip nervously shaking his head. "I-I don't know, sounds awfully risky." He said softly. Sylvester wasn't a adventurous person, he was happy with what he has now, even though wouldn't consider that much.

    He slowly leaned over and peaked inside of the opening. On the other side was the attic. It looked exactly the same as his attic except that everything was backwards just like Sylv pointed out already. He slowly pulled away from his hand after what felt like was a amount of time. He could already tell that Sylv wasn't like him at all. Personality wise they were exact opposites, but looks wise they could pass as twins except that his family knows that Sylvester was a only child.

    "I can tell that you don't act like me." He told him straight forward. Mind as well point out that difference right now. He thought to himself.
  15. "I don't get why you're worrying about. I'm the one that fell through the mirror and broke it, painfully. Look, you can stick your hand through and nothing happens," Sylv demonstrated by sliding his hand through the hole and onto his side. "See."

    Sylv showed Sylvester his hand that was unharmed except for a chipped nail on his pinky finger that was painted black. Sylv smiled, placing his hands in his pants pockets as he began to explore the attic. Everything was the same with everything in the exact spots except backwards. He dug through a box full of old clothes.

    "Yeah? You must be the boring side of me," Sylv said, taking out a child's T-shirt. "Let me guess, you don't talk much, you're always serious, and you go out your way for family and friends?"

    The shirt was their shirt when they were around seven years old. Just like Sylv remembered, there was a chocolate ice cream stain at the center of the shirt. He smiled and placed it back in the box.

    "Then I bet this is right too," Sylv began. "Your life is going pretty well? Nothing is really going wrong except our grandmother's death. But, even with that life is going good? Because right now my life absolutely sucks. Everything going right for you is going wrong for me."

    Sylv continued to explore the attic.

    "I want to check out this life other life of mine. You should show me around here."
  16. Sylvester watched his clone look through the mirror and back out without and problem. "It's not that that worries me." He told him softly as he looked through the hole on the mirror.

    He watched his clone look around his attic, listening to him talking. He simply shrugged. "You can say that." He told him. He walked over to another box an he pulled out a old stuffed rabbit.

    "I'm still remember the day that grandma got me, or should I say us. I loved this little rabbit." He said as he hugged it before he put it back. His grandmother gave it to him for his first Christmas. He always treasured it.

    "Now I assume that you like to stick out, take some risk, always spoke your honest opinion." He said softly, knowing that he was the opposite so that was a safe assumption.
  17. Sylv looked at the rabbit Sylvester took out from an old box. He smiled as well, remembering the few good times he had with the rabbit as a child. He went back to digging through old boxed in the attic to discover any other lost memories in the alternate universe.

    "That's me exactly," he said to Sylvester. "Everything you're not, I am and vice versa. Can't you see how this can help us?"

    Curiously, Sylv began to rearrange the boxes in the attic by placing them in different spots and switching the items in them. He wondered if that would have any effect over on his side of the mirror. And, if so, what?

    "It's about to get late in the night, right? Let's go out and walk around the neighborhood. I want to see if everything really is the same, but just switched," Sylv said. "Our parents should be fast asleep by now anyway. They ate and drank a lot at the funeral."

    Walking over to the door of the attic, Sylv opened it slightly and looked down the staircase to see if any light was shining in the hall. As he expected, nothing was on. The parents were asleep and they had the whole evening to themselves.
  18. Sylvester looked over to the mirror and he smiled softly as he saw the boxes moving. They looked like they were being pushed to position. "That's incredible." He said in aw. This mirror was absolutely incredible for certain.

    He looked over at Sylv for a moment as he saw him looking downstairs. "They should be asleep." He said softly as he walked over to him. He slowly leaned out and looked through the hall. His parents were asleep. He could his father snoring soundly.

    "Does dad in your would snore like that?" He whispered as he started to sneak down the hall very slowly, making Sylv wouldn't get distracted. "Where would you like to go first?" He whispered as he looked around the pitch black hallway.
  19. Sylv followed closely beside Sylvester, but walked more causal. He was careful to keep as quiet as possible. The last thing anyone needed was to see two Sylvester's standing side by side with horrid expressions.

    "I don't think as loud," Sylv said in a hushed voice. "I don't know. I don't have a good relationship with my parents. We keep ourselves separate."

    It was difficult for Sylv to navigate in the dark house since the layout was opposite of his. At times, he would run into a wall, bump into furniture, or complete miss a turn and walk into a different room. Sylv held back an irritated groan at his missteps.

    "Just around the neighborhood. No where far because I want to get back before the sun appears. I just want to see if everything here is pretty much the same."

    Once at the front door, Sylv carefully opened it and walked outside. As he figured, no one would be out this early in the morning besides some cats and raccoons. The neighborhood in this universe looked to be a lot cleaner than his with every lawn well maintained and manicured. The sky here was also much clearer.

    "Just around the block and back. And I promise I won't push over any trashcans along the way," Sylv walked across the front lawn and jumped the wooden fence onto the sidewalk. He looked back at Sylvester. "We can...I don't and compare our lives?"
  20. Sylvester quietly walked through the house with little to no trouble. Unlike his clone over there behind him. He slowly closed the door and he locked it behind them, he knew that he had his key to the house in his back pocket.

    He followed his clone and he nodded at the idea of going around the block. He shrugged. "That sounds easy enough." He told him as he walked through the fence gate unlike his clone jumping over. "How does your neighborhood look like?" He asked him curiously.

    At this point he could figure out that everything was different, but not completely different. "And we're going right." He added softly. He looked around at the night lit street, finding it beautiful. "I love walking through the town at night." He told him.
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