Curiouser and curiouser!
Characters:plottingthis (Mirage/Regene)
Date/Time: Morning of the 25th, right after Mirage's birth
Location: Hatchery
Rating: PG
Summary: Mirage is taking someone home tonight~
Head for temporary housing, then acquire an occupation, was it? Inquisitive, red eyes scanned the Hatchery, a mischievous smile playing on Mirage’s lips. He walked towards the exit (he could sense that one, he was certain he was here), intending to fulfill the task as the greeter had dictated to him despite the triviality of it. Except…
Ah, it would appear that I accidentally took a wrong turn. He smirked and quickened his pace, crouching low and weaving through the maze of cocoons. Anticipation flickered in his crimson eyes as he drew closer, navigating the place with ease, which would probably not be possible under normal circumstances, but he could feel him, he could pinpoint his exact location with such precision that there was no hesitation on what direction he would take. Every turn was deliberate, every step precise and he’s getting closer he just knew it, it was exactly the same sensation as in his dream, and that one was here, he definitely was, he was as certain of his existence as he was of his own.
And then he found him. A wide smirk spread across his face, eyes brimming with excitement as he gazed upon the sleeping form of that one exactly like him, tucked in a groove on the wall, blanket wrapped around him to keep from the cold.
Curiously, he took soft, cautious steps, so as not to wake his replica, and crouched in front of him, studying his face with utmost interest; it was as if he were outside his body, observing his own still form, witnessing his own slumber. He stayed that way for a while, watching the chest of that one rising and falling along with the soft sound of breathing, glancing at the person’s closed eyes and-
Hmm, what’s this? There was something there but he didn’t know what it was, so he slowly raised a hand and reached out for the corner of that one’s eyes. A pointer finger came in contact with the strange… foreign substance. He turned his hand so that his palm faced up and rubbed his pointer finger and thumb together. He realized that it was moist.
He blinked, staring at the liquid matter on his fingers, a look of utmost curiosity reflecting in his face. Did that one leak? Perhaps there was something broken about him. He made a note to himself to find out later, for nothing should escape him.
As he turned back to his copy, something from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He glanced at his duplicate’s side and noticed a journal not very different from what had been provided to him lying on the ground.
The smirk reappeared. Careless, are we not? he thought as he picked up the journal, casting a quick glance at the other one to make sure that he had not been disturbed.
When he was certain that that one was still asleep, he began flipping through the pages of the journal, starting with the latest entry. The red, curious eyes scanned through the pages, the impish grin never once leaving his face.
The first thing he noted was that someone was gone, and how strange his replica’s reaction was. If one was gone, then how could one return? And he couldn’t help but feel somewhat irritated; what made this seemingly insignificant person so important and influential to that one, that he had been willing to wait, hope, for one who would never come? Beings other than them, albeit interesting, were of little to no value whatsoever. Those ones were different. Those didn’t matter.
Such as the others who occasionally wrote down the name "Aurora" in that one's journal, and which that one responded to in neat, concise script. At least, Mirage mused, even those had their use sometimes.
For now I know that this one is identified as Aurora. He stored it in his memory (and it had not been difficult as he found that he remembered everything easily), this name was important, this name was the name of that person in his dream, that one who was tied to him, bound not only by their striking similarities but by something else; he was like him in many, countless ways.
He had been continuing to flip through the leaves of the journal, noting the names of those that seemed to be closely related to Aurora and some key events that had transpired between them, when he got to a page where Aurora had drawn directions to his living quarters for someone of little importance to Mirage.
Again, he committed the directions to memory. He glanced back at Aurora; he was still fast asleep.
With a playful grin, he tucked the journal underneath the blanket wrapped around Aurora and carefully slid his arms under the resting body. Aurora shouldn’t be here, waiting for that unimportant person who would never be returning. It was ridiculous to hold such value on someone so unlike them, anyway.
“We’re going home,” he told the sleeping form, before lifting Aurora off the ground and carrying him out of the Hatchery. He began to tread the way back to Aurora’s living quarters, never even once glancing back to view the directions in the journal.
That’s right; Aurora did not need this person, or anyone else, and he would make sure Aurora knew.
The smirk on his lips grew a little wider.
Date/Time: Morning of the 25th, right after Mirage's birth
Location: Hatchery
Rating: PG
Summary: Mirage is taking someone home tonight~
Head for temporary housing, then acquire an occupation, was it? Inquisitive, red eyes scanned the Hatchery, a mischievous smile playing on Mirage’s lips. He walked towards the exit (he could sense that one, he was certain he was here), intending to fulfill the task as the greeter had dictated to him despite the triviality of it. Except…
Ah, it would appear that I accidentally took a wrong turn. He smirked and quickened his pace, crouching low and weaving through the maze of cocoons. Anticipation flickered in his crimson eyes as he drew closer, navigating the place with ease, which would probably not be possible under normal circumstances, but he could feel him, he could pinpoint his exact location with such precision that there was no hesitation on what direction he would take. Every turn was deliberate, every step precise and he’s getting closer he just knew it, it was exactly the same sensation as in his dream, and that one was here, he definitely was, he was as certain of his existence as he was of his own.
And then he found him. A wide smirk spread across his face, eyes brimming with excitement as he gazed upon the sleeping form of that one exactly like him, tucked in a groove on the wall, blanket wrapped around him to keep from the cold.
Curiously, he took soft, cautious steps, so as not to wake his replica, and crouched in front of him, studying his face with utmost interest; it was as if he were outside his body, observing his own still form, witnessing his own slumber. He stayed that way for a while, watching the chest of that one rising and falling along with the soft sound of breathing, glancing at the person’s closed eyes and-
Hmm, what’s this? There was something there but he didn’t know what it was, so he slowly raised a hand and reached out for the corner of that one’s eyes. A pointer finger came in contact with the strange… foreign substance. He turned his hand so that his palm faced up and rubbed his pointer finger and thumb together. He realized that it was moist.
He blinked, staring at the liquid matter on his fingers, a look of utmost curiosity reflecting in his face. Did that one leak? Perhaps there was something broken about him. He made a note to himself to find out later, for nothing should escape him.
As he turned back to his copy, something from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He glanced at his duplicate’s side and noticed a journal not very different from what had been provided to him lying on the ground.
The smirk reappeared. Careless, are we not? he thought as he picked up the journal, casting a quick glance at the other one to make sure that he had not been disturbed.
When he was certain that that one was still asleep, he began flipping through the pages of the journal, starting with the latest entry. The red, curious eyes scanned through the pages, the impish grin never once leaving his face.
The first thing he noted was that someone was gone, and how strange his replica’s reaction was. If one was gone, then how could one return? And he couldn’t help but feel somewhat irritated; what made this seemingly insignificant person so important and influential to that one, that he had been willing to wait, hope, for one who would never come? Beings other than them, albeit interesting, were of little to no value whatsoever. Those ones were different. Those didn’t matter.
Such as the others who occasionally wrote down the name "Aurora" in that one's journal, and which that one responded to in neat, concise script. At least, Mirage mused, even those had their use sometimes.
For now I know that this one is identified as Aurora. He stored it in his memory (and it had not been difficult as he found that he remembered everything easily), this name was important, this name was the name of that person in his dream, that one who was tied to him, bound not only by their striking similarities but by something else; he was like him in many, countless ways.
He had been continuing to flip through the leaves of the journal, noting the names of those that seemed to be closely related to Aurora and some key events that had transpired between them, when he got to a page where Aurora had drawn directions to his living quarters for someone of little importance to Mirage.
Again, he committed the directions to memory. He glanced back at Aurora; he was still fast asleep.
With a playful grin, he tucked the journal underneath the blanket wrapped around Aurora and carefully slid his arms under the resting body. Aurora shouldn’t be here, waiting for that unimportant person who would never be returning. It was ridiculous to hold such value on someone so unlike them, anyway.
“We’re going home,” he told the sleeping form, before lifting Aurora off the ground and carrying him out of the Hatchery. He began to tread the way back to Aurora’s living quarters, never even once glancing back to view the directions in the journal.
That’s right; Aurora did not need this person, or anyone else, and he would make sure Aurora knew.
The smirk on his lips grew a little wider.