Littlefinger
dead account
- Joined
- Nov 2, 2009
- Posts
- 1,687
On the other side of the mirrors and reflections of our world, there exists an entirely different world filled with people resembling us. Their purpose and desires revolve around dancing with us through the glass wall and copying us - living through us and being us.
But for a particular mirror man, named Imago, this isn't enough once he lays eyes on a woman in our world and falls instantly in love with her. So, he breaks away, outcasting himself from his world, and steps through the barrier to pursue her. The problem is 1. he looks exactly like an arrogant snob that she just recently went on a blind-date with(which is how Imago came to see her, through reflections on the date) and 2. there are certain odd things about him - like he sometimes does things backwards, and he doesn't cast reflections or shadows. Will she be able to look past these things or will she reject him just like she did to the man who bears his likeness?
Looking for someone to play the girl(or it can be a guy). MESSAGE ME IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN JOINING.
Opening:
Idiots. The world was filled with them and Gerard was forced to interact with them constantly. In his ear, the crackling sound of bad country music played while he waited for the imbecilic bitch to get her act together and get back on the bloody phone. Gerard sat in his very modern living room, on his sleek and clean couch, wearing nothing but a fancy, plush bathrobe, impatiently tapping his fingertip on the side of the cordless phone against his ear. In his lap rested the catalog he was ordering from, opened to the page displaying the very chic glass, marbleized vase he was trying to get. They were out of the oceanic blue design, which would go perfect in front of the window. The clerk, who was supposedly serving him, half-remembered a new shipment coming in and at his insistence, she went to go check. And she was taking her sweet time.
Why was there so much trouble with this? He'd ordered from them before - that flat screen TV hanging against the wall, the treadmill, the entertainment center, the china, and nearly every fricking thing in his bathroom. All ordered from this same dumb-ass catalog. He was practically at the top of their list of preferred customers! He didn't deserve this kind of treatment! Glancing at the clock on the wall, he let out a heavy breath and slapped the magazine down on the glass coffee table sitting in front of him. As he leaned forward, a shade of himself leaned with him, a ghost-like apparition seen in the depths of it's surface. When Gerard looked off to the right and ran a hand through his hair, his haunted double looked to it's left and copied the motion.
"Sir?" the female voice came back on the line, hesitant and sickeningly kind. For God sakes... He almost wished she hadn't come back at all. Almost.
Before she could go on with whatever she had to say, Gerard stepped in and blasted at her, "It's about time! I've been waiting for almost half an hour!" She stammered a moment but he ignored her. "Is this what you call service? Not all of us can waste time on the clock like you do, waddling about your little fucking cubicle! Some of us have appointments and dates to get to!"
"I... I apologize, sir. I checked to see about the Deep Blue Sea Corral Vase you wanted--"
"Yes. And?!"
"--and the shipment logs say there should be some in stock, but..."
"But what?" he grated out in exasperation, incomprehensibly annoyed beyond belief. "They're either in and you have them and I can order them or they're not and I can't. Which is it?" Honestly, this wasn't difficult. Unless you were five and mentally handicapped, which this woman apparently was!
"They're not."
"Then we're done. Thank you for the lovely chat," he shook his head and rose from his seat, his reflection in the glass table wandering by and out of sight as he walked down the hall to his bedroom.
"I'm really sorry. Maybe you'd like the Desert Pink Sunset vase?"
"You already offered me that before I told you to check the records for the color I wanted. And I told you then, if you offered me the pink again, I'd shove it up your disease-ridden arse." His ghost-like image drifted past the glass pictures in the hallway, ranting silently while Gerard's voice grew louder. "Not only do you suck at your job by not having all the necessary files that you might need if, gee, I don't know. If someone calls and actually needs something from you. That way you don't waste their precious time taking hours to search for what you should already know. But you also suck at life by being such an incompetent moron who doesn't even pay attention when customers specifically ask you not to try to sell them shitty puke-colored crockery!"
Entering his vast bedroom, he harshly pressed a button on the phone and tossed it on the bed, sauntering over to his walk-in closet. Instantly, the woman and her frivolous idiocy was cast out of mind as he regarded his wardrobe of expensive suits and polo shirts. Now that was over, it was time to deal with a new headache. His blind date. It was someone Charles knew and although he had great taste in classy, upper class women, it was the "blind" part of the equation that bit at Gerard. He just hoped she didn't turn out to be a slob or a obnoxious twit. He could handle just about anything, from bimbos to dull bitches, so long as they made nice enough arm candy and made him look good in public. Otherwise, he had absolutely no use for them.
In minutes, he was clad in a sleek, midnight blue suit, almost black it was so dark, and a deep, blood red dress shirt underneath. Standing in front of the mirror, he tied his tie and his reflection did as well. A slender man with blue eyes and short white blonde hair looked back at him, smiling haughtily when he adjusted his tie and combed his quickly drying hair. On the other side of the glass... beyond the silver, beyond the metal backing and the wall it was hanging from... deeper, inside it, stood Gerard's reflection, staring through the window between the worlds.
As Imago buttoned Gerard's suit jacket and smoothed his hand down the front of it, he felt immensely pleased as he kept pace with the other man, moving as he did, every facial expression, every muscle twitch exactly the same. Even though they looked exactly alike, he was not Gerard, but an entirely separate being with thoughts and feelings of his own. And although he did not always agree with the things his human companion did or said, he found more fulfillment in the dance they shared day in and day out than he did in his own autonomy. He didn't have to like Gerard as a person; being one with him through the mirrors was enough. And there wasn't anything more that Imago could want or ask for.
Finally satisfied with his appearance, Gerard stalked back down the hallway, picking up his keys before finally leaving his apartment. Although immensely satisfied about how incredible he looked right now, he again experienced a moment of dread when thinking about his date, hoping once again that she was at least tolerable to look at. Getting into his silver Audi, he started driving to the five-star restaurant where he was supposed to meet her, his blue eyes meeting Imago's when he glanced at the rear-view. He also really hoped she wasn't tardy. Gerard had enough of women wasting his time today.
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