Event Log: Bad End

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Bad End event
Where: All over the city!
When: August 23rd-September 5th
Warnings: Bad futures, awkward conversations, smashed mirrors

You wake up to find a mirror at your bedside - a pretty nice one, too, a silver hand mirror perfect for fixing your hair in. Only when you try to do that, it's not your gorgeous reflection that you see. It's something else - a terrible future, just about as bad as anything you could imagine for yourself.

Maybe you see your loved ones dead on the ground, and you know it's your fault. Maybe you see the goal you've been working so hard for pulled out of your reach forever. Maybe you see someone you've hurt in the past ruining your life. Maybe you see your hot girlfriend leaving you to shack up with your worst enemy. Whatever you see, it really sucks, and you know that it's possible. This future could happen if you make the wrong choices, give in to your worst impulses.

Break the mirror if you want, but you'll see the same vision in any reflective surface in the city. You can't break them all, but you can sure try. And what will you do when you see your best friend's vision - and it features you betraying them?

Seek reassurance, give reassurance, lash out, vow to yourself that you'll never let it turn out that way, sink into the depths of sorrow because you feel like the future you see is inevitable. Whatever you do, it won't take away those visions - not until the event is over.

► This log covers August 23rd-September 5th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you can't handle the idea of your dark future, or maybe you just accidentally slip and fall on a mirror shard, let us know here.

Comments

Maketh Tua | ota

[mismanagement]

Guardpost

[Her hand is bandaged carefully, each cut cleaned and taped for maximum efficiency. It doesn't help much. Nor did smashing the mirror, but that is what she did early this morning, smashed it to a pulp with her fist and bled for the priviliage of it.

The image persists, however. Maketh can see it in her coffee, that reflection of a woman that looks like her, moves like her, but is dressed in the uniform of a First Order officer. And in the background, Hux and Kylo Ren linger. Ready to wreck havoc.

On the surface, it looks harmless enough, unless you know.

Maketh grits her teeth and drinks her coffee. It's bitter.]

Did you need something?

[Her voice comes out sharp and bitter.]

River

[The mirror has long since been smashed, but it seems the gods have become more clever in their trickery and the images from the glass have followed Maketh. Everywhere she goes, she sees her reflection: standing tall, back perfectly straight, in a black uniform and command cap. And it's only an illusion, it shouldn't matter because it's not even of her time, and yet --

And yet.

Should you wander down by the river, you might spot Maketh sitting on the bank, methodically working her way through a bottle of whiskey and glaring out at the water.

No one ever said she was good at coping.]

Wildcard

[Hit me!]

Guardpost!

[synthedick]

I'm worried about you.

[It's an honest statement from a synth known for being more than his makeup, a human sentiment from someone distinctly not human. He'd been reminded just how non-human he was with his own mirror. He was a tool, something that could be turned on people with the flip of a switch for all he knew. What if half the Institute came through the Door one day? Or a whole host of their synths looking to raid Hadriel as if it were some settlement? Or worse, what if he lost himself somewhere in that tangled mess of memories in his head? Went all Broken Mask on the residents who had come to trust him? The gods might bring them back, but who knew if they could do the same for someone like him, someone wholly inorganic.

It was too close to him, given what he's been through in the last couple of months. He broke his mirror that morning, as well -- he couldn't stand seeing someone wearing his face committing those kinds of atrocities.

He puts his hands in his coat pockets, giving Maketh an even look that betrays the knotting in his gut.]

[mismanagement]

[She flinches, suddenly unable to meet Nick's eyes. He's a good man, honorable and kind, and Maketh knows very well that she is not. Sometimes she believes that it's enough simply to be effective, that if she protects the rest of Hadriel then that will do. But then something like this happens, a vision of things to come or what might be if she gives in, and Maketh wonders.

And she is so very tired of wondering.]

It's a trick.

[She twitches. Sets her mug down.]

They're playing tricks. It's not real.

[synthedick]

They always are.

[Nick's own tone is slightly resigned as he says that; the tricks the gods have been playing have been all too real lately.]

The hard part is not letting it get to you.

[And he says that in the knowing sort of way that says he's well aware of how Maketh might be feeling.]

[mismanagement]

[This time she does meet his eyes, briefly. It's hard to lie around Nick, even by omission. He sees through it.]

I'm am very tired of questioning what I am, Nick.

[synthedick]

[His expression softens just a hair, but he stands unmoving from his spot before her desk.]

Why do you?

[He knows the initial reason, but maybe he's asking for more -- for what she really thinks, for why she really questions herself.]

[mismanagement]

[Maketh sighs, shaking her head.]

It would be foolish to forget what I was, once. What I allowed myself to believe.

[It's only logical.]

[synthedick]

I agree, but you don't need to let it weigh you down, either.

[And that's coming from a guy who still harbors regrets from the memories of the man he's copied from. The real Nick might be long dead, but the synthetic one has trouble letting go of the past, especially certain events.

He comes closer to her desk, pulling himself up a chair.]

We've been through a lot lately. Ghosts of the past, fake memories... fake futures. [Mirrors.] But you've got to admit that even with the setbacks, you've come a long way. We all have.

[mismanagement]

We have.

[She glances at him briefly. It's difficult not to think of how things might go wrong, now that she's begun to crave them. These friendships. The love she feels for Henry and her budding relationship with Rey, so recently changed. The connection she formed with Emily.

All of that might be taken away, if she's not careful. If she doesn't toe the line between the Empire and the mess in her own damn head.]

I have never sought forgiveness, or anything sentimental like that. I have no right to ask that. But I --

[She rubs her face.]

I wish I could know what I am, with any degree of certainty.

River

[leashed]

[He doesn't expect to see her here. Rome notices Maketh down on the bank from where he stands on a street nearby and pauses for a moment, unsure if she'd like to be joined. He knows about the mirrors by now, that their appearance has increased the stress levels of some others, and he knows that the last time they interacted during an event, things became... heated.

That was far worse though, with what he did.

Rome doesn't really have any sort of notion of offering her any comfort, but the idea of giving someone space and time to recover is also rather lost on him, and so he approaches curiously, eyeing the bottle in her hand.]

Ma'am?

[mismanagement]

[She has company. Maketh tips her head back with a grin. It's even company she doesn't hate. How wonderful.]

Rome. Come to share the bottle?

[She waves it at him.]

[leashed]

[He pauses for a moment, smelling the liquor on her before deciding to move closer, more in conversational range.]

That isn't why I came.

[She seems pleased to see him, at least, and if he's understanding her offer correctly, she's inviting him to stay, rather than just asking if he came for her alcohol.

If he's interpreting that the right way. It's difficult sometimes.]

I am not permitted to drink.

[mismanagement]

[Maketh laughs, tipping her head back to watch him.]

Says who? I don't see anyone else here.

[leashed]

My handler.

[Now a little more comfortable thanks to the conversation, Rome moves closer so that he can sit on the bank next to her. He can at least keep her company, even if he can't share the liquor, right?]

And the protocol that governs those like me.

[mismanagement]

Your handler is not here.

[She lifts the bottle up for a better look, squinting at it.]

Oh, yes. Protocol. All those rules to follow or you get shot in the head.

[She nods cheerfully.]

I have rules too. It's all right. It's allowed.

[leashed]

[It feels like it's meant to be reassuring- your handler isn't here- but it unsettles him in a way that he's been subtly unsettled since he arrived here. Rome frowns, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs, watching Maketh quietly for a long moment before speaking.]

I thought you liked rules. You chose order.

[mismanagement]

Without rules there is no order, [Maketh agrees. She flashes her teeth when she says it.] And without order, the universe falls to chaos.

[An awful fate.]

Shhhh. This is in the rules. If you're careful and quiet, it's allowed.

river

[therewillbeorder]

[His own mirror had been smashed, along with a reflection of him as a Republic officer. It was an image he didn't want to think about, he knew that he could have been left on Arkanis and he would have missed being a part of the Empire. He would have lost his life, his background.

He had always known the Empire had always been a part of him, it always would be, but the image of seeing himself as a loyal soldier of the Republic shook him. And it was something that he preferred not to think about.

When he saw Maketh sitting by the river with a bottle of whiskey it wasn't difficult to figure out what was going on.]

While I would take delight in your pain, I won't ask what you saw if you have more whiskey.

[mismanagement]

[Oh look, it's Hux. Maketh waves the bottle at him lazily.]

I suppose you thought that was clever.

[Despite the words, there's no real malice in her tone.]

Sit, General. I'm getting very drunk.

[therewillbeorder]

It was very clever even if you're too drunk to appreciate it.

[He cleared off a spot before sitting beside her, raising his eyebrows.]

So what did you see?

[mismanagement]

[Maketh huffs, eying him suspiciously.]

I saw something pointless. Shut up and drink.

[She waves the bottle at him, perhaps a tad more aggressively than she needs to.]

[therewillbeorder]

That bad?

[He took the bottle, managing not to splash any on himself when she shoved it at him. He took a long drink, he was more than happy to not think about what he had seen.]

[mismanagement]

[Maketh huffs. He's clearly ignoring the rules of this particular engagement, which means she'll have to do the same.]

No worse than yours, I bet.

[therewillbeorder]

I'm not sitting alone drinking about mine, however.

[After seeing the glimpse of Brendol Hux and himself dressed as a Republic officer, he hadn't hesitated to smash the mirror and make sure to crush it.]

[mismanagement]

No, you're drinking with me.

[And not with Kylo or Anakin. That might actually be worse. Maketh waves her hand impatiently for the bottle.]

Give it here.