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entranceway inbox
[text/voice/video/etc.]
"Howdy, you've reached the voicemail of Fiddleford McGucket! Unfortunately I can't stay and chat right now, but please leave a message and I'll be sure to get back to you quicker than a chicken on a junebug!
... Unless your name is Stanford Pines. In which case, "somethin's on fire right now" better not be the reason why you're callin' me."
February 20th [Mirror writing]
Hello, Dr. McGucket.
[Another message is added beneath that when McGucket notices the writing.]
You look unwell. Have you been able to sleep?
no subject
In the meantime, however, he forces himself to approach the mirror, giving the words a critical look before he responds.]
No, I haven't. [...] Is there something you need from me?
[Let's get to the point, what's your reason for wanting to talk to him.]
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Yes. I wanted to see what you've accomplished as of late. Try to run from me, and I will haunt you until you agree.
I shall write a list of words on the glass, and I want you to tell me the first thoughts that come into your head. Be honest. If you can't think of anything, let me know.
Are you ready?
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[This is stated as flat as possible... until the thought occurs to him that it could very well not be joking and this would mean having to be worried about the mirror haunting him, perhaps even showing up to embarrass him in front of other people... or god forbid Ford who would ask too many questions about it...]
You even gonna tell me why you want me to do this?
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[The Mirror does not care for joking around, especially with matters such as these. Instead, he is blunt when he is honest, and subtle when he's not. The rest of his thoughts remain unspoken.]
I will tell you my reasoning when we are done.
[The phrase "Are you ready?" is underlined.]
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Okay, fine, I'm ready.
[hit us with your words, buddy]
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White.
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Dreams... the ones from a few months ago, to be exact.
[About the white version of wonderland, which was when these two first spoke to one another, actually.]
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Memory.
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[Which, isn't actually the very first thing that came to mind at that word, but the mirror doesn't need to know that.]
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Dimension.
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A unit of measure regarding space... most here though likely think of "alternate" or "multiple" dimensions when the word comes up.
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Portal.
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Pass.
[He does not want to talk about his thoughts or feelings about that blasted thing right now.]
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Machine.
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Forgive the interruption, but that was a well-educated explanation. Were you a scholar of some sort back in you world?
[Mirrors get curious too!]
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[it's one of the few things he's still able to take pride in lately]
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And what will you do if you forgot that knowledge?
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[Of course. He should have known they would be inquiring about that incident with the memory gun being used on the real Dorian...]
I won't forget that knowledge, as it's not somethin' that I want to forget.
[And the memory gun is only supposed to take away the unwanted memories... or at least, that's the intention he had for it...]
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What of the consequences? The side effects? Surely, you've thought your methods through to account for the hazards of forgetting important things.
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[Although, the moment he says those words, there's an odd sort of mental twitch, as if something is trying to tell him that this isn't the first time he's said this before to someone. However, he chooses to ignore it.]
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I don't doubt the machine does what it is built to do, but
humanspeople get addicted to things through repetition.Besides, if you forget your mistakes, how can you possibly learn from them?
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Even if someone uses the device more than once, it would still only erase what the user types into it's interface.
[And he is going to stick to that story for as long as he can until he's unable to do so anymore.]
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And what do you want to forget? Misdeeds? Horrible truths? Minor inconviniences?
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What I want to forget is none of your business, or anyone else's for that matter.
[And unless the mirror can think of something to say that can stop or delay him a moment further, Fiddleford is now picking up a towel from somewhere off the floor here, preparing to toss it over the mirror and cover it and the words from being seen.]
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[Dorian sighed as the glass was covered up. There's another Real shutting him out. Great. It seems this one is incapable of being reasoned with.]
[Or is he? There's a good chance McGucket will lock this memory away as well. Then he might wonder why his mirror is covered up and remove the sheet. Keeping this in mind, Dorian wiped away the message he was writing and walked out.]
[He'll be back. If McGucket never forgets about the incident in his room, he'll have to wander through the halls at point. He won't be able to hide from his troubles forever.]
[The Mirror will make sure of that.]