Sang Sacré
The fictional Buffista City. With a variety of neighborhoods, climates, and an Evil Genius or two, Sang Sacre is where we'd all live if it were real. Jump in -- find a neighborhood, start a parade, become a superhero. It's what you make it.
History. Map.
I open my eyes and everything's backwards. My left hand is my right hand, and instead of two left feet, they're both righties. Around me is darkness.
"All right. Where am I?"
"That's a good question," someone says with my voice. "There I was, instructing a terrified family of four on dry brush technique so as to cover up the horrible yellow paint they'd inflicted on their living room walls, and now I'm here. With you."
He looks an awful lot like me, except his goatee is black. And he seems awfully concerned about interior decorating.
"Who are you?"
He gives me a condescending look and shakes his head--starting from the wrong side. Looking at it makes me dizzy.
"I'm your evil twin, idiot."
"Evil twin? You mean like Miracleman's twin?"
"You really don't see much of the big picture, do you? It happened all over town. When I was pulled out of my seminar I thought someone had reversed the spell, and I would be re-integrated into you before I had the chance to beautify the city. But then I showed up here."
"Chill, dude. Here is good. We got Playstation."
I look at the couch. Was there a couch there before? It's me again, slouched into the cushions in sweatpants and a t-shirt filled with holes, a bag of Doritos in my lap and a two-liter of 7Up at my feet.
I look at black goateed me. "If you're my evil twin, who's this?"
"I'm Switzerland, dude. Could you step aside? I'm gonna get my ass kicked if you don't quit blocking the screen."
"You're Switzerland?"
"Neutral. You know, not involved. Just collecting interest."
"Apathetic," says evil me. "Wishy-washy."
"Whatever," says the me on the couch.
"And where are we?" asks evil me with a sneer. He does everything with a sneer. A backwards sneer.
"In the mirror, man. I don't know why you ever left. We got cable and everything."
"Why are we all in the mirror?" I ask, Me me, the original. I think.
"I'm thinking it's got to do with personality integration. See, we weren't back in meatspace for more than, what, a day? Before the whole splintering thing. So when the counter-spell tried to put us back together, it didn't know how. We weren't a fully formed personality, so it stuffed us in here to figure it all out."
"And how do we do that?" asks evil me.
The me on the couch shrugs. "Don't know." He offers a controller. "Wanna play?"
The Difficult guy sneers at me. "No, I don't want to play."
I shrug. "Suit yourself."
"Look at you," he says. He's still sneering. "You're a slob. Where did you get that couch?"
"Was out on the curb. It's way comfy, man. It does smell a little."
"Are you sure it's the couch?"
I hit pause and grab a handful of Doritos. "Man, why you wanna harsh on my mellow? Come on, sit down, we'll flip through the pay channels and look for nudity."
"There must be a way out of here," says the Do-Gooder. "Have you looked?"
"I didn't want to go nowhere," I say. "So why look?"
"Don't you want anything?"
"Pretty much got it here. Cable, Playstation, snacks. A girl would be nice, but relationships are a lot of work. I can handle my own needs, if you know what I mean."
They both look kind of disgusted. Whatever.
I decide to ignore the lump on the couch and look around. Besides the couch and the TV there are nothing but shadows all around. There have to be walls, don't there? Walls with wainscoting, or wallpaper, or tasteful photography. I realize suddenly that I may be in an infinite void, and the thought is terrifying. You can't paint nothingness. It won't cover.
"If we're in a mirror, shouldn't it reflect whatever's around the mirror?"
Wishy-Washy picks his nose before answering. "It used to. Somebody broke the mirror."
I take a deep breath. "'Somebody?'"
"Well, it was distracting. I almost had the high score on 'ita's Death Match' one time when someone walked by the mirror. Real drag, you know?"
I think I'm going to panic. Yes. I'm definitely panicking. But first, to kill the Wishy-Washy one.
Before I can strangle him with the controller cord the Do-Gooder speaks up. "Let's look at this logically. If we can exist inside the mirror, there must be a mirror dimension, a space common to all mirrors."
"How is that logical?" I ask. "It could just as well be that each mirror contains its own dimension."
"Yeah, but then there wouldn't be a way out. We have to think positive."
No wonder I hate him.
(confidential. e to K. t. D.:
there must be a mirror dimension,
it's very cold.
Also-- look at those user IDs! He was planning this for a while!)
it's very cold
Thanks, Rebecca -- I was actually going to go back and look at the mirror dimension sequence at WX before continuing. Don't suppose anyone knows where it starts?
Somewhere around here, if my sieve serves me. Can't look better right now, sorry.
t /re-lurks
Nilly, you're a superhero.
e. says
it is different on the other side. upside-down, you are staring at your own insides, a thing and itself and a reflection and sliding into one another. it is hard to say which moves first. it gets mixed up and moving and the i and the me get lost.
that is my experience.
but we may be different creatures with different sorts of eyes for looking.
//Not here, mistress. And I need some more sleep.//
//Okay, Dagfari. Talk to you later.//
"Hector, have you seen a, err, a teddy bear anywhere around? I seem to have... *mislaid* mine."
"I don't think so. Here- could be behind the couch. Let's look."
Penny leaves, and Hector and I set to some serious hunting.
"What's so important about this bear?" Hector asks, as we look under the chairs. Aimee and Miracleman stop talking and look at me, frowning.
"It's an evil bear," I explain to them all. "I was looking after it for a friend, you know- the way you do. She tries to take over the universe from time to time. I have a theory that she was allowed to watch too much Voyager at some point- seems to fancy herself as Queen of the Borg. It's a bit..."
I catch the look on Miracleman's face. "We'll find her, don't worry. She can't have got far." A rapid dive behind the couch saves me from the first blast of angry magic.
Yes! I managed to climb out through the letter box, and now I'm free!
Wild and free in Sang Sacre. Few things in this life are more fun- or more dangerous.
The moon is shining as I toddle- I'd stride, but it's hard for a bear in a skirt- down the street, stopping to admire myself in the puddles as I go. It must have rained while we were inside, there's water everywhere.
I don't mind. My fur will dry out soon enough, and in the meantime there are all these wonderful mirrors.
In the middle of the street, there's an especially large and wonderful puddle. No cars are around, so I wander across to look in it: but it doesn't reflect as a normal mirror would. I lean closer- are there people in there?
There are. I'm about to shout to them, or at the very least try and see who they are, when an unexpected van comes rushing down the street and straight over me. Face-first, I fall into whatever is on the other side of the mirror.