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Mirror Mirror; Topic Closed
Topic Started: Aug 8 2010, 06:06 AM (6,094 Views)
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G 105 Isabel Guerra - Start

Isabel’s eyes opened. She squeezed them shut and then opened them again. All she could see was her own hair blocking her vision. She unsteadily pushed herself up into a half- seated position and covered her eyes with her hands. If she could have seen anything, her version would have been blurred and fading in and out of focus. As it was, all she saw was darkness.

Where am I?

In the darkness she had nothing to distract her mind from what she had seen. The image of a boy slicing into a girl from that video flashed vividly in her mind. It seemed to play back in clearer, brighter color than she had originally seen it. Isabel slammed both of her hands onto the floor and retched violently. She didn’t vomit; she assumed her stomach was too empty for that to happen.

Her eyes began to adjust to the dim light of the room. All she could make out were strange, almost silvery surfaces that seemed to cover the walls. She lifted her head and saw something move. Cold fear drained the blood from her now that she thought someone else was in the room, watching her. She gripped the edge of her white sleeves that extended far past her hands.

He said…we have to kill each other. That man. Danya. Survival of the fittest.

Isabel got up onto her hands and knees. A few feet away she could see a lump that she assumed was her bag. Carefully she crawled over to the shape in the dark. She leaned forward, glad to finally have her pack. However when she finally reached out to grab the bag her fingers smashed against a cold, hard surface. The shock threw her off balance and she fell forward. A hollow BANG rang out in the darkened room as her head crashed against the mirror. If her head wasn’t throbbing before, it was certainly spinning now. She groaned and slipped down the mirror, cheek to cheek with her equally dizzy reflection.
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Isabel leaned forward on her knees with her elbows on the ground, clutching her head.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why are you so stupid? It was a mirror.

She glanced around her and found several replica girls clutching their heads and peering up at her.


Isabel heard the frustrated cry of a girl coming from somewhere. They were in a maze. She wondered how many others might be stuck in the maze when another voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Stay where you are, make no sudden movement!"

From somewhere else she heard a second male voice.

"Anyone around here?!"

The first voice sounded like someone who meant business. The second voice sounded friendlier. Either way, Isabel didn’t like the idea of sticking around in a dark, confusing maze with that first male voice. Out of habit she looked around to see where the voices came from. Her dark reflections looked back at her in confusion.

She shuffled on her knees to her bag and opened it with the hope that she had been given a good weapon. Isabel silently prayed that the sound of the zipper wasn’t loud enough to bring attention to herself. It seemed unlikely when every few moments a new bang or crash was heard. Something long and metallic brushed against her nails in the bag. She pulled it out and puzzled at what she saw.

This is a weapon?

She couldn’t be sure in the dark, but it looked like an instrument of some sort.

Well that was a bust.

Even still, the thing looked long and felt sort of heavy, so she decided to keep it by her side. She zipped the bag back up and slung the strap over her shoulder. Slowly, she started walking forward with her empty hand flat against the glass to her side and her instrument out in front of her to prevent her from running face first into another mirror.

I just need to be quiet. I need to find a way out of this place.

She bent down low as she walked and took slow steps to make sure her movements made the least noise possible. She turned a corner and the end of the trumpet tapped the glass. Isabel turned and went the other direction, trying to keep straight in her head which turns were dead ends.

It’s okay. Stay calm. You can get out of here.
Edited by Ruggahissy, Aug 9 2010, 06:30 AM.
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(GM with permission from Little)

Isabel heard a yell. In her mind it seemed like it was taking minutes just for her to turn her head, but it couldn’t have been more than a second. Standing in front of her was a boy. He seemed shocked to see her. What was really of importance to her, though, was the thing he was trying to hide from her in his hand.

“…Hi Roland,” she said, waving dumbly.

She wasn’t very familiar with him, but she knew who he was. They might have spoken maybe once or twice in passing.

“Drop the knife and back up!”

Isabel flinched when Roland screamed at her. It appeared that she had run into the angrier of the two male voice and now that he was standing in front of her, he seemed twice as angry. She looked down at his weapon. His fist clenched the handle of something tightly. Whatever it was, it disappeared into the darkness before divulging its true nature.

She looked down at the thing in her own hands, then looked back up at Roland.

“Knife? This is a….like, a horn or a trumpet or something. I don’t really know the difference between the two,” she admitted, rather embarrassed.

Slowly she took two steps forward and brought the instrument to her lips. She gave it an experimental blow and a short, ragged note came from the end. Isabel pushed down on one of the buttons and a higher note came out. She moved the trumpet away from her mouth; a glint of metal from Roland’s hand revealed itself to her in her new position.

Moving quickly, Isabel brought the trumpet down a few inches, took one large step forward and swung the trumpet at Roland’s head. As soon as she thought she hit her mark she took off running as fast as she could down the hall.

So much for being quiet!

Isabel turned left and kept running. At the next turn she turned right, but found herself at a dead end. The traction on Isabel’s old shoes had worn down long ago and the momentum of her movement slid her right into the mirror at the end. Isabel grunted as her shoulder made contact with the shoulder of her mirrored self. With her free hand she pushed against the mirror she had run into and ran back the way she came, this time turning left. Isabel looked over her shoulder to try and see if she was being followed, and if so, how her blunder which had cost her precious seconds would effect the chase.

I have to find the exit. NOW!
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"Isabel! Wait, no, you've got it all wrong! Come back!" He yelled.

Adrenaline pumped through her body as she ran. Another right, a left, another dead end, go back, turn right.

"Isabel! Please, just let me explain!"

The voice sounded further away now. She stopped and looked back. There was no one behind her and no sounds of pursuit trying to catch up with her.

Can I trust him? Let him explain. What would he say to me? “Sorry for screaming at you. I was trying to save the knife as a surprise? Surprise!

Underneath her sneakers she heard the crunching sound of little shards of glass.

She put her hand up to a mirror and leaned on it while catching her breath. Isabel just needed time to think.

I always thought he was okay. I mean, I’ve heard some girls talk about how he was a crappy boyfriend and a jerk when it came to relationships, but that sort of stuff never mattered to me. Maybe I should stop thinking like that. If I assume everyone’s a decent person just because they were normal in real life- but this isn’t real life! I’m in a mirror maze with a trumpet being chased by a guy with a sword! That’s about as far from real life as it gets.

Down the hall she saw something shine on the floor. As stealthily as she could, she walked to the spot and saw the jagged shards of a broken mirror littering the floor

I don’t think I can make it out of here just with a trumpet. I might run into Roland again; maybe someone worse.

She dropped to the floor and unzipped the bag. She found the flashlight and started looking around inside. After a moment she pulled out the first aid kit and ripped it open. She pulled out a roll of gauze and smiled. Hastily she replaced the box, zipped up the bag and placed the gauze at her feet. She sifted through the broken pieces on the floor, trying to find a nice, sharp piece. Isabel stopped her search when she found a jagged shard of mirror about a foot and a half long. Not wanting to be caught kneeling on the floor, she took the roll of gauze and began wrapping it around the piece of glass and the horn of the trumped as fast she her fingers would move. In her rush to unwind the gauze she carelessly moved her hand too close and cut herself just below her thumb.


Isabel bit her tongue. He might be able to find her now. She finished her work and stood up with her newly improvised trumpet-knife. The glass extended just about five inches past the horn of the trumpet.

Better than nothing.

Isabel began walking. She took a left and found herself looking down a hall. Immediately in front of her were two people, but she couldn’t really recognize them in the dark. Past them was…..Roland again!

She stared open mouthed at him.

Edited by Ruggahissy, Aug 11 2010, 12:37 AM.
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"Okay look, let me explain. "When I woke up I was- WHAT THE FUCK!"

Isabel jerked forward when the girl charged him. What on Earth was this girl thinking? He wasn’t attacking her and he probably weighed more than two of her combind.

The other boy screamed more or less what Isabel had been thinking. The boy nonchalantly had his hand in his pocket as he looked on at the action.

"I'd definitely stay outta this one."

She searched him for a moment. It was the friendlier of the male voices from earlier. She sighed.

Well at least I found him. Only way way, too late.

Her attention was pulled back by a sound not unlike someone hitting a gong. The girl had been flung quite hard at a mirror. She gasped and ran forward.

“Stay down, I don't want to hurt you!”

Isabel skidded to a stop in front of the girl on the floor and held out her newly improved trumpet at arms length. Isabel didn’t know if he would try to attack the girl, but she mostly stood in her position to prevent the girl from trying to get at him again.

“Idiot,” she hissed down at the floor. “What were you thinking?”

You have now placed yourself in the line of fire for two unstable people. Let’s hope it isn’t the last thing you do.

“Okay. Let’s talk,” she said darkly, pointing the sharp end of her trumpet at his neck.

"We'll stand a better chance as a group. We started out on the wrong foot, I mean, I just don't want you all sticking me like a pig, I need to watch out for myself! "How about it guys? Let's form a regiment, yeah? Cut down on all this knife wielding..?"

“Yeah, we sure did start off on the wrong foot. If I may, I think I can pin point your mistake in dealing with me. I think it was when you screamed threats at me and tried to hide a god damn sword. Girls don’t really like that, it’s kind of aggressive.”

This guy has a point. If we team up, we might last longer. But that’s only if he doesn’t give me a stomach full of metal when my guard is down.

She stared straight into his eyes, as though willing herself to try and read his thoughts. Self preservation. At least he was being honest in his intentions.

“….you tried to talk it out with these kids before she ran at you like she was a 250lb quarter back. So I think that whack to the head taught you a little about dealing with people.”

Isabel let out a deep breath. She looked down for a fraction of a second, looked back up and lowered her trumpet-shank a few inches. Her pose, formerly tensed and leaning forward and waiting for attack, relaxed slightly. Isabel stood up straight and continued to try and learn his thoughts through the contours of his face.

“Fine," she said curtly. "But you better not try to stab me," she said wagging a finger at him.

Isabel didn’t move from her position. She wasn’t going to until she was sure this girl wasn’t going to try anything.

Though judging by how hard she hit that mirror, I don’t expect her running for at least a few minutes.
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Isabel’s mouth set in a thin line as she looked on at Roland. She glared at him and stood still in her non-combat stance. Her hand clenched the trumpet, but she kept it tilted down and away from his neck.

She listened to him talk about Survival of the Fittest and castigate her for her recklessness. He tried to justify his actions by laying them upon the situation. Inside her chest her heart felt like she was on a free fall ride at an amusment park. Her eyebrows came up and for a moment she looked as if she might cry. He was right. He was right about everything. Isabel hadn’t had a free second to think about it long enough, but she was annoyed and angry that he was right.

Isabel didn’t like that angry look he gave her. It was as if to say that he was doing her a favor and that it was a mistake for him to have worried over her. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone. She never did.

“W-well, you could have been a little more calm about it!,” she snapped. “You were looking at me like I had an “insert knife” sign on my chest.”

Slowly, Isabel got down on her knees. She kept her eyes glued to Roland as she carefully set aside her trumpet-shiv. A moment of frozen silence passed between them when she looked up at Roland, on her knees and without her only weapon.

“You come at me and I swear I will haunt you forever.”

She took a deep breath and turned to the girl on the floor. She grabbed her by her plastic-y top and rolled her so that she lay flat on her back. Isabel leaned in to put her ear up to the girl’s chest. She let out a tension filled sigh and drew herself up from her. The girl was still gripping her weapon in one hand.

“I think she’s going to be fine. You probably just knocked the wind out of her.”

She leaned over, dragged Meredith's pack and put it under her head as a pillow.

"...just so long as Little Miss Sunshine over there ain't part of it."

“Hate to say it, but you guys are right. She’s a liability. There’s no telling when she could pull another Leeroy Jenkins and get us all killed. She should be fine here until she wakes up…”

Isabel trailed off, not wanting to dwell too long on abandoning a girl in the middle of a blood sport. She pushed the thought away.

“Okay. Let’s get the hell out of here. If we stick close to the wall we should eventually find the emergency exit or a staff door out of here.”
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Isabel got up off of the floor and followed suit after the two boys. She turned her head one last time to see Meredith’s body disappear behind the mirrors as she turned a corner. At the very least she was thankful to be at the end of the escape line. She didn’t trust Roland with that weird sword. No telling when he would “accidentally” trip on something and, “Whoops!”, Isabel would have a great new torso piercing.

“This place is making me dizzy,” she murmured. Finding the exit was a welcomed relief in a day that had started out in the worst way possible .She stepped out of the exit after Dave and looked around where they found themselves.

“Holly molly. It’s a carnival. That sick bastard’s got a sense of humor doesn’t he?” she observed flatly.

The wind picked up her curls and gently threw them against her shoulders. Her eyes blinked and squinted after coming from the dark into the light. Feeling self conscious for the first time since waking up, Isabel tugged down on her mini skirt, though the action was somewhat complicated by trying to hold onto her trumpet.

“I used to love carnivals,” she said quietly.

Isabel was always moving as a little girl. The four year period she spent in St. Paul was the longest time she had ever stayed in any one place. But carnivals constantly traveled too, and no matter where she moved to the carnivals would always eventually come around.

I won that giant, smiling, plush banana at the squirt game last time at the carnival. Named it Partario.

“Partario….I’ll name it that.” She whispered looking down at her trumpet weapon.

Isabel brought her left hand up to her mouth and sucked on her little wound, trying to lick up the blood.

"Alright. We need some more people if we ever hope to be successful here. My bet is someone is kicking about in the Carnival, maybe even a group with similar intent. Looks to be a good place to start. Stay low just incase, try not to make any movement and follow my lead."

Her head whipped up at Roland when he mentioned a group. Isabel wasn’t crazy about running around with more people. Big groups didn’t really agree with her. She also wasn’t crazy about this kid assuming that they would just follow whatever orders he dished out.

Just leave it for now, Isabel. You can always run off when they aren’t looking.

She curtly nodded at Roland. Now that they were in proper light she could see that he was bleeding from where she had smacked him with Partario. After exiting the building she dropped her pack down for a breather. She leaned down trying to awkwardly negotiate Partario and her skirt once more, unzipped it and searched around for the first aid kit. She stood back up and tossed a band aid at Roland.

“Sorry I decked you,” she said and hoisted the bag back onto her shoulder. "Ready to go?" she asked the other boy.

((Isabel Geurra continued in Break Up and Break Down))
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