(( title comes from this song; relevant pages if you wanna see those (with an added warning for a single panel of a sheep carcass being butchered): 123 ))
You stand in a crumbling, ivy-riddled room, a sword at your hip and your uniform heavy against your body. You're in front of a mirror, and Mithrun is staring back at you - though not the Mithrun those in the simulation know now. The man here is younger, with two silver eyes and pointed ears fully intact. He's wearing the same uniform here that he still does now and then.
The mirror.
You should look away from it. You know that - it’s basic dungeon investigation. Don’t spend too long looking at any mirror you didn’t bring in with you.
Before your better judgment overpowers the exhaustion weighing you down, though, a thought occurs to you - and, while it’s still just half-formed, the image on the mirror ripples and changes.
You see two elves, sitting at a table together; one is beautiful and sharp-featured, and your heart leaps with sudden, aching fondness at the sight of them. A sly smile that you’d give anything to see in person again flits across their features, and they say something inaudible to their dining partner--
--to your brother.
Your hands are on the frame of the mirror before you realize you’ve moved, gripping the wood as if you can change what you’re looking at - what must have happened, in your absence. You knew he also had feelings for them, but you never thought--
Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, your throat tight and chest aching.
You let go of the mirror, and your hand goes to your sword.
It only takes one strike of the wooden sheath for the glass to shatter - to explode, and when the pieces fall away there’s no backing behind them, as if the glass were only a thin layer over an endless expanse of nothing.
There, from the “nothing”, steps a young goat. It stares up at you with dark eyes, soft and stable against the anger and despair surging through your blood, and it speaks.
“If only you hadn’t joined the Canaries, you could have been together.” The goat takes a step closer, unflinching as it walks over the broken glass. “But you can still see that future, if you’d like?”
It knows your answer, and you know it does.
You drop to one knee and cradle its muzzle in trembling hands.
You want that life, and something inside you changes.
RABBIT HEART; [SPOILERS]; CW: manipulation
Date: 2023-10-19 10:51 pm (UTC)You stand in a crumbling, ivy-riddled room, a sword at your hip and your uniform heavy against your body. You're in front of a mirror, and Mithrun is staring back at you - though not the Mithrun those in the simulation know now. The man here is younger, with two silver eyes and pointed ears fully intact. He's wearing the same uniform here that he still does now and then.
The mirror.
You should look away from it. You know that - it’s basic dungeon investigation. Don’t spend too long looking at any mirror you didn’t bring in with you.
Before your better judgment overpowers the exhaustion weighing you down, though, a thought occurs to you - and, while it’s still just half-formed, the image on the mirror ripples and changes.
You see two elves, sitting at a table together; one is beautiful and sharp-featured, and your heart leaps with sudden, aching fondness at the sight of them. A sly smile that you’d give anything to see in person again flits across their features, and they say something inaudible to their dining partner--
--to your brother.
Your hands are on the frame of the mirror before you realize you’ve moved, gripping the wood as if you can change what you’re looking at - what must have happened, in your absence. You knew he also had feelings for them, but you never thought--
Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, your throat tight and chest aching.
You let go of the mirror, and your hand goes to your sword.
It only takes one strike of the wooden sheath for the glass to shatter - to explode, and when the pieces fall away there’s no backing behind them, as if the glass were only a thin layer over an endless expanse of nothing.
There, from the “nothing”, steps a young goat. It stares up at you with dark eyes, soft and stable against the anger and despair surging through your blood, and it speaks.
“If only you hadn’t joined the Canaries, you could have been together.” The goat takes a step closer, unflinching as it walks over the broken glass. “But you can still see that future, if you’d like?”
It knows your answer, and you know it does.
You drop to one knee and cradle its muzzle in trembling hands.
You want that life, and something inside you changes.