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[ ROUND 2 - 30 HP / 40 HP ]

It was quite a few years after Amityville Academy's time had passed. He saw himself, somewhere in the hazy future, wrapped around a chair reading a book. One that he didn't have much interest in, which was evident in the fact that he hadn't bothered to turn the page in the last few minutes.

He wondered if he should send a letter, or a text message he supposed. The number was never really deleted from his phone, just sort of sat there listlessly gathering dust. In a feeble attempt of desperation, Lock would convince himself that he was just too lazy to delete the number, or there was no reason to.

Still, he remember his high school almost-romance with fondness, perhaps more than it should have been given.

The mirror faded, and the queen appeared. Lock stood stunned for a few moments, then moved to attack the queen. Surely she was the one responsible for all these strange hallucinations and accusations. Lock wouldn't have it. He would eliminate her, and all the people like her from the world, whether it was imaginary or not.

His fists connected to flesh, and he quickly realized it was not the queen he'd slammed into, but an unsuspecting bystander. He didn't mean to pummel the guy, but it wasn't exactly like he had the choice to back out mid fist-punch. Instead, it was a very awkward half-hearted shove.

[ ROUND 2 - 30 HP / 40 HP ]

Another mirror caught SCIENCE's eye, and she turned to watch what it held in its depths. She saw... herself! Not just herself, though. SCIENCE recalled seeing this version of herself in the Lost Temple. A Professor at the Academy! Sitting at a red desk in her red office. There was a knock at the door (also red), and Professor Canon turned to call the person in. As soon as the door opened, the Professor was out of her seat, aiming a punch that froze right in front of the student.

"Well met! Please come in, and take a seat! What would you like to talk about?"

As Professor Canon led the student to a seat, the scene in the mirror faded. Instead, there was the image of a puppet posed to strike! SCIENCE perked up at that. She and the mirror stared at each other until the mirror seemed to become impatient and made a 'come at me' gesture.

Canon leaped at it, foot leading her into a flying kick!

Except her foot went through the mirror and into someone behind it!

Suddenly, the sneak attack from earlier made a lot of sense.

[ Round 2 -- 40 / 40 HP -- Roll 2 / 3 ]



Davey is shocked by Pachu's response. He falters and steps backwards. Pachua... doesn't know about Hunters? How is that even possible? One of their teachers was masquerading as a division leader. They've infiltrated Deus' island multiple times. It must be a trick... but that thought fades at the honest bewilderment all over Pachua. Davey doesn't think he's that good of an actor.

Very slowly, he asks, "When was the last time you were actually at that school of yours? Or went on their 'extracurricular excursions'?"

Is it possible that Pachua is one of the monsters, but has never actually left the school - or his homeland, whatever or whereever that may be - to attack the Hunters?

"Why the attitude, Cap'n?" Joy asks.

Davey turns to face her, expression falling. Of course to Joy this looks like he's bullying a kid for no reason. She's not a Hunter yet, even if he's 90% sure she's in the pods already recruited, and she doesn't know what any of those visions mean.

"He's not what you think he is," he tries to tell her. But it would take too long to explain everything. He sighs. "Did you ever see things that went bump in the night - as an adult, not just a kid's nightmares?"

When he turns his head to keep an eye on Pachua, a mirror moves to intercept his line of vision. Great, here we go again, he thinks. It's not like he's in the middle of an important argument or anything.



He's bone tired coming back from the mission. He manages a mostly straight line to debriefing - which he's so tempted to skip, but things actually went without a hitch and he doesn't want bitchy division leads chasing him down. Somehow he lasts through the meeting without falling asleep. It might have been shorter than usual (or he just had a few microsleeps while sitting in his chair).

"Shower?" a familiar voice appears at his shoulder.

"Yep," he mumbles without looking. Is she there or is he hallucinating? Eh, he doesn't really care.

He exits the building, raises a hand and squints against the light. Still daylight here, when he'd just come from a midnight mission - ugh, portals make things so confusing.

"Sleep?" the voice prompts.

"For a year."

"Food?"

He grunts a negative. Wandering into the town, he's occasionally directed by a push to his shoulder, until he arrives at his front door. It looks like his door. He's pretty sure it's his door. He fumbles with the keys until there's a laugh and a musical curse and the woman at his side takes over. Oh, she is really here, he thinks.

The moment the door closes behind them, he starts peeling off his clothes. He leaves a trail of dirty, sweaty, blood-stained garments. There's a sharp wolf whistle as he stumbles towards the bathroom. He has no idea how she still has so much energy left.

When he has the water hot and the pressure strong, he steps into the shower. Resting his arm against the wall, he leans forward and lets the spray pound between his shoulders. His eyes drift close. Then open when the shower door rattles open, a laugh drifting in with a warm body.

"You planning on sleeping in here?" she teases.

There are hands in his hair, the smell of their shampoo strong in his nostrils and he closes his eyes in case of suds. "If you keep doing that, yeah," he manages to say, as he melts under the massage.

"I'd leave you to do it yourself, but then it won't happen at all."

Probably not. Not right now, anyway. He'd leave it for when he's more awake, but he knows she hates going to bed with the smell of battle on their bodies or in their hair. He doesn't quite remember getting out of the shower or towelling off, he only notices when he's next to their huge bed, covers pulled back. He falls in gratefully. The bed dips on the other side - she's far more graceful getting in, he can tell even with his eyes closed.

He reaches his arm out and pulls her close.

"Is this where I have to say I have a headache?" she asks.

"Shaddup," he mumbles, tucking her head under his chin. A warm body next to him, arms around each other, the knowledge that they're both safe... Yeah, he can fall asleep like this.

There's a gentle poke to his good shoulder, hot breath against his neck as she says, "You don't have to work so hard. The kids need to learn to take a few hard knocks, learn their mistakes in pain. You don't have to protect everyone all the time, y'know?"

"Yesido," he mumbles, more of an exhale than words.

She sighs. "Well, good job today."

"Y'too." Some places don't like spouses working together, but nothing's as reassuring as knowing she has his back out there. "Love you."

He can feel her smile against his collarbone. "You too, Cap'n."



He's not sure why he drives hist fist through the mirror. Maybe he can't stand the Queen taunting him with a future he knows won't be real. Maybe he's embarrassed, needs to break the scene before anyone realises his happy future is starring a person he's known for only a few days in a fake dream-game world. Maybe he's just still angry at not realising the Amityville students were under his nose the whole time.

He's immediately ashamed for not controlling his temper, especially when he connects with another player. He should have known better from last time, accidentally hitting Pachua when he didn't mean to.

"s**t, sorry," he says to the guy he just hit. "Are you okay?"

[ ROUND 2 REPLY TO Harebrained: 20 / 40 HP ]

Boi had been trying to find Ulka when he saw the image in a mirror near him. Despite knowing what this was going to mean, he was absorbed in. He had to watch.

It was odd, that vision. A beautiful woman, older, with gray whispy hair and a loving family. All of them leaving her alone. How strange...

Suddenly the glass erupted. Crying out in shock, he felt a sword pierce into his shoulder. It didn't hurt, thanks to Game mechanics that were still working (or perhaps because he wasn't real), but it didn't feel pleasant either. Pulling the sword out of his arm, he angrily struck back at the person without thought. How could he do that? In rage or confusion perhaps.

"S-s**t. I... I'm sorry." Boi shook his head and turned on heel, fleeing the battle.

There was a buzz from his PDA. He had to get away to read it.

[ ROUND 2 REPLY TO Divinity: HP 30/ 40 HP ]

In the midst of the past memories UT suddenly turned and gasped as thousands of mirrors rose from the ground each one subtly unique. The horrific pieces of reflections formed the queen taunting her and then shifting. The change revealed new and different images some looked familiar; others were completely foreign to her. One such foreign scene caught her eye and held her riveted, her eyes narrowed on the figure.

At first she felt a stab of sympathy, who was this poor boil staggering in pain? She almost reached out in a futile attempt at comfort until she saw the coat. Suddenly her fingers curled away turning from an outstretched hand into a fist. She watched the hunter who lay dying in darkness and felt a surge of pleasure. She hadn’t realized that she could relish the pain of another, but there wasn’t an ounce of guilt in her, one less hunter was a nice thought, one less threat to her and hers.

Suddenly he lunged with his spear and she gasped as shards of the mirror and the tip of a spear grazed her drawing angry slashes over her flesh. Enraged she lashed out delivering an equal blow. Hunters were here; Wonderland suddenly seemed a whole lot less wonderful. How dare they invade the dream, she had been so certain that only the denizens of HalloweenTown were in this place!

[ ROUND 2 - 20HP / 40 HP ]

As she turned away from the shattering glass everywhere she felt a bit unsteady, she twisted and was caught by a reflection in one of the many mirrors. This reflection wasn’t strange to her though, she saw herself, an older version of herself walking up the elegant steps of the Err Family Mansion…
~
She held two bouquets of black roses close and she moved hurried through the enormous mansion. The furnishings were draped with covers and the place echoed, no one lived in this museum. After her parents death she hadn’t been able to bear the memory of them all around her, she’d decided that her husband’s home would be a better place of them to build their life. Yet everything here made her chest ache with memories good and bad. She paused and stared up at an enormous painting of a beautiful succubus, her mother.

The gleaming eyes gazed at her in silent judgment and she lowered her gaze remembering the argument they’d had on those very stairs. She’d yanked her arm out of her mothers grasp and yelled at her, screamed at her for keeping her prisoner. She’d gone back to school and by the time she’d graduated and returned home…it had been too late to apologize. Her mother had done everything, she’d done her best, she’d tried to protect her only daughter…and she’d been repaid with silent scorn.

Tears blurred her vision as she hurried out into the back into the family graveyard and the elegant crypt that was her parent’s final resting place. She carefully set down the roses and sighed.

“I’m so sorry…”

She blamed herself for the thousandth time wondering why she hadn’t just answered their calls or letters. She would never receive a concerned letter from her parents again. She turned to go when her eyes caught a small bundle on a shelf of the crypt. It was a bundle of letterers and some were addressed to her. Fingers trembling she opened the most recent and looked down at the elegant flowing script, her mother had written her long after she’d stopped answering.

Sin,
I know what I’ve instilled in you, my beloved only daughter. I wish I could make you understand my love for you, my desire to see you safe and happy. I hope someday you’ll forgive me for being ruthless in my duty to protect you and maybe someday when you have a child of your own you’ll understand. I know you’ll probably never even see this letter, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t put this in words for you. Never doubt how much your father and I love you, and know that we can forgive you anything as long as you are capable of forgiving yourself.

Your Loving Mother

She leaned against the intricate grave marker and shuddered, her fingers lifted to brush away tears.

“Now I can mama…now I can start to forgive myself…and I wish you had known that I forgave you long ago. You only ever wanted the best for me…”
~
The Queen suddenly appeared destroying the vision in the mirror, horrified UT lashed out shattering the mirror with a desperate cry.

“NO!”

She gasped as she realized someone innocent had stood behind it, she’d hurt someone…not the Queen.

“Oh! I’m…I’m so sorry…please forgive me?”

[DEAD]

There was a moment of twinned and searing pain in both unmentionable places and less unmentionable places.

And then Lawr was finally dead.

Probably.