Text will now be saved to the script file. Type SCRIPT OFF to discontinue scripting. >restart Do you really want to start over? (Y is affirmative) > y It's raining out. You lean your head against the window, the glass cold against your cheek, and watch the world slide by. The city is as grey as the skies, but rainbows catch in the trembling drops of water. The swish-slap of the windshield wipers and low hum of the air conditioner covers up the faint sound of his breathing. If you close your eyes, you can almost be somewhere else. Maybe if you try... You tremble inside like a raindrop on the verge of falling, fighting to spread yourself out, let yourself drift away into the sky, away from this car, away from him, away from the fate ahead. But even with the fear, it's so hard to move on... or maybe because of the fear. Metal snugs around your wrist as he tightens the cuff, shattering your concentration. "None of that," he says. His voice isn't even cold, it's just empty. He touches a panel on the car's dashboard. "We'll be there soon," he adds. Soon. shadows on the mirror by Chrysoula Tzavelas IFComp ver 1.0 Players new to this game should type ABOUT. Hints are also available. I drew a picture on the window as we rode Then I wiped it dry to see the other side I see no more than you do Believe me, I've tried To find what is missing, to find what is wrong To write the words to my happy-ending November song – “November Song,” Mark Henley Car The car is large and comfortable, but it's still just a traveling cage, upholstered in sleek grey. The control panel on his side flashes discreet symbols you never learned to read, but in the center of the dashboard is the stereo, and above it hangs a mirror. The car has a back seat as well as a front; usually his kind comes in groups. There's only a plain black briefcase back there, though. Your backpack is on the floor. Galen is driving the car. >about Conversation and character interaction are the primary foci of Shadows on the Mirror. To support this, 'ask about' has been abbreviated to 'a' and 'tell about' has been abbreviated to 't'. If you can't find appropriate things to talk about, you can type 'topics' for a starting point. You can find more assistance, as well as license and credit information in the hints. >x stereo State of the art, of course, but not much used, from the looks of it. >x me You're just as cute and charming as always. Well, maybe a little less. Being CHAINED to a SUPERNATURAL STALKER will do that to a girl. But only a little less. It's raining steadily out. >x galen From your dreams, you always thought he'd be tall. Big. Enormous. He cast such a shadow in your dreams. But when you looked up in the park and saw him standing there in front of you, just a man, you could barely believe it. This is what had been hunting you, night and day, across world and wane? Not so tall, almost slight in build, unremarkable brown hair. But then his hand closed around your arm, stronger than the silver band there now, and you knew him. “Your grandfather asked me to find you, Enra,” he said, and caught you as your knees buckled. He's wearing an expensive-looking pair of shades that scrape across your nerves. His suit is very fine, although it bears the signs of being driven in for many hours. It's typical Man In Black garb. Silver glints at his neck. >x silver (the cuff) The silver cuff can loosen and tighten around your wrist like a training collar on a dog when he pulls on it, which is easy for him to do, because the other end is around his own wrist. It's closed. >open it The cuff seems to be locked. >x stereo State of the art, of course, but not much used, from the looks of it. Galen touches the control panel and a symbol flashes. >a grandfather (asking Galen) “What does my grandfather want?” you ask. “The usual,” he says. “Power and immortality.” >a grandfather “Yes, but what does he want with me?” “If you don't like my answers, you could just write me off as his errand boy. Why would he tell me his plans? You're his granddaughter. Maybe he wants to spoil you.” It's still raining. >a grandfather If he knows anything, he's not talking. Yet. Galen shifts his weight. >a me Quietly, you ask Galen, “Do you know the sort of things I can do?” He glances over at you, his eyes invisible behind his shades. “Oh yes. You interface with reality on a subdimensional level as a result of prenatal modifications to your genetic and aethereal nature and catalyzed by a nanomechanistical substrate absorbed during adolescence. You require a focus item, and your generative capabilities can be externally suppressed.” He sighs. “Or, as I imagine Bobby would say, some whacked out magic shit.” You've never heard it expressed quite like that before. >a bobby “Why did Bobby act so strangely when you came to get me? Why didn't he help me?” He'd stood back, practically cowering, with your other friends when Galen showed up. “I've been in his dreams, too. He doesn't remember them, but they probably made him uneasy. But, let's face it, anyone that might hurt him makes him uneasy.” >a friends He just shakes his head, very slightly. >topics It might be interesting to talk about his sunglasses. >a sunglasses “Will you take off your sunglasses?” you ask, as sweetly as possible. “Nope,” he says. Galen moves his head restlessly. The clouds directly ahead are darker. >x sunglasses You can see yourself in his sunglasses, all distorted and wavy. You don't like them. Nothing's real through sunglasses, everything is just a game with a wall between you and the world. You've been there. >i You are carrying nothing, and are wearing a cuff. Galen scowls at the storm ahead. >turn on stereo You tuck a strand of hair behind an ear and flick the stereo on. Running your fingers across the touchpad, you make haunting cello strains fill the vehicle. The beautiful sonorous chords of cello music flood the car. >x stereo State of the art, of course, but not much used, from the looks of it. The beautiful sonorous chords of cello music flood the car. Definitely nasty weather ahead. >take off sunglasses You're not wearing that. You finish passing the great bulk of the city. >get sunglasses You lunge at him, grabbing at the sunglasses. The metal tightens around your wrist again, but it can't do much to stop you. The car swerves for the briefest instant as he is distracted, his other hand coming up to fend you off. There's a brief tussle that ends with him holding your arm in an iron grip. But you are clutching his sunglasses. He looks at you impassively for a heartbeat, and then thrusts you away from him, back into your seat. You have his sunglasses. Triumph! >wear sunglasses You put on his sunglasses. You can feel his warmth on your cheeks for a moment, and then you hastily take them off, embarassed that he saw you acting so frivolously. >x sunglasses Lightweight, sleek, partially reflective. He looked good in them. Well, intimidating, which is what his kind consider 'good'. Too bad for him. They're yours now. Ahead, the sky is even darker, and flashes of light dance between clouds. >x galen He's not nearly as scary without the sunglasses, is he? Well, except for the briefcase and the cuff and his bare hands, with which he can probably murder gladiators. His suit is very fine, although it bears the signs of being driven in for many hours. It's typical Man In Black garb. Silver glints at his neck. There's a scratch under his right eye. >a sunglasses “Do you want your sunglasses back?” He eyes you warily. “All right.” “Tough!” you say gleefully. He snorts and turns his attention away from you. Galen turns a fierce look on you. >x silver (the cuff) The silver cuff can loosen and tighten around your wrist like a training collar on a dog when he pulls on it, which is easy for him to do, because the other end is around his own wrist. The same kind of setup, you realize, as around yours. It's closed. There's a flash of lightning in the distance. >x silver at his neck The story doesn't understand that command. There's a flash of lightning in the distance. >x galen's neck Half-hidden by his hair and collar, the links of the necklace are thin and wide. There seems to be a pendant of some sort but it's tucked under his shirt. When he moves his head, you can see that the skin under the chain is a chafed and fiery red. Galen shifts uncomfortably in his seat. >t necklace “Hey, that necklace there looks like it's hurting you,” you observe. His head turns towards you briefly, but he doesn't respond. You shrug. Galen scowls at the road ahead. The wind gusts, blowing the rain horizontal. There's the thunder. >a necklace “So, where'd you get the necklace from?” you ask. His mouth curves up in a humorless smile. “It was a... gift... from your grandfather.” >x necklace Half-hidden by his hair and collar, the links of the necklace are thin and wide. There seems to be a pendant of some sort but it's tucked under his shirt. When he moves his head, you can see that the skin under the chain is a chafed and fiery red. >get it You lean back in your seat, stretching your hands out so wide. He moves his head to his left as you threaten his personal space, leaving his neck open. Quick as a fish, you dart your hand in, wrap your fingers around the chain and yank. He recoils, which helps, because the surge of energy that tingles through you almost makes you lose your grip. You fight back– and with a snap, the chain is in your hand. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Oh.” His hands go up to the weal around his neck. There's a pulse of white around you, and for a moment for a moment you are overcome by a wild, sourceless joy. From the pendant in your hand there sings an answering note. And then–Car The car is large and comfortable, but it's still just a traveling cage, upholstered in sleek grey. The control panel on his side flashes discreet symbols you never learned to read, but in the center of the dashboard is the stereo, and above it hangs a mirror. The car has a back seat as well as a front; usually his kind comes in groups. There's only a plain black briefcase back there, though. Your backpack is on the floor. Galen is driving the car. The beautiful sonorous chords of cello music flood the car. There's a click as ordinary vision returns, and the cuff drops off your wrist. Galen gives you a long, steady look, and then returns to driving. >t necklace “It looked like it was hurting you,” you explain, clenching your fist around the pendant. “It was,” he says simply. >a necklace “Where did this come from?” you ask, holding the pendant. “Your grandfather had it crafted from certain materials he gathered. Then he collared me with it.” His voice deepens, anger roughening it. >a grandfather You're certain, based on recent events, that he hates your grandfather as much as you do. Maybe even more. Galen shifts in his seat. >x backpack When he caught you, he peeled it off of you like you were a child, holding your arm in one hand. After he had you cuffed, attached securely to him, he went through it. He took your caheris and stepped on it, breaking it into a thousand glittering pieces, and he took the rose pin that Bobby had given you, snorted, and tossed it into the undergrowth. He looked at your battered mystery novels, your dice, your lensless eyeglasses, laughed humorlessly, and left them in the backpack. Galen throws an annoyed look up at the sky. >x novels You see no novels here. >open backpack Opening the backpack reveals some mystery novels, a pair of eyeglasses, and some dice. >x novels A battered collection of your four favorite novels. You've had them for years; you're not about to lose them now. Galen takes the next exit, which is an interchange. You're now running parallel to the storm rather than driving into it. >read novels You're not really in the mood for reading now. >x eyeglasses Coppery round metal frames with iridescent butterflies dancing along the earpieces. They help you focus sometimes. >wear eyeglasses (first taking the pair of eyeglasses) You pull out your glasses. You put your glasses on. Ah, that's better. >focus The story doesn't understand that command. >x dice Six siders and twenty siders. Useful in work and play. Galen stretches his hand, watching as it closes into a fist. >[heh] The story doesn't know how to use the character ‘[’ in a command. >a dice You'd love to sit down with Galen and find out what games he knows, and maybe teach him a few of your own... but such activities are best in a bar, with him buying the drinks. >a eyeglasses “Do you think my eyeglasses are stupid?” you ask. He tilts his head at you. “No. Though they make you look absent-minded.” The car takes the upcoming offramp. >t eyeglasses “I use my eyeglasses when I need to concentrate on secret or hidden things,” you inform Galen solemnly. “Or when I'm doing the crossword.” A smile flickers across his face, swiftly gone. It looks like the freeway is curving back around to the city. >x necklace The pendant is a flat, seven-sided crystal, in which a tiny downy feather has been imprisoned. The chain melds organically to the pendant, the links narrowing to a tiny filigree as they intersect the pendant. Holding it in your hand, you can feel the quiet thrum of an alien power in the artifact. This is a rather nice part of the city, but not where you would have expected to find yourself. >wear it You slip the chain over your head. >take it off Okay, you're no longer wearing the necklace. As you pass by a park, the car turns into the parking lot. A moment later, Galen has parked the car. He turns toward you, a half-smile on his face. Then he brushes his fingers on the panel and the door beside you clicks as well. “Go on, get out of here.” >get backpack You pick up your backpack. >a galen “So, what are you going to do now?” you ask. “Oh, I'll be paying one last visit to your grandfather. He won't like that very much at all.” Galen smiles unpleasantly. A bird flies across the front of the car. >a galen “Um. What will you do after you... visit... my grandfather?” He glances over at you. “I haven't decided.” >a galen There's suddenly so much to ask that a thousand unasked questions beat each other into the silence that emerges. You'll clearly need some time to put your thoughts in order before you can interrogate Galen further. A gaggle of children races down the sidewalk into the park. >t galen “You could– That is, I wouldn't mind talking to you more. After you 'visit' my grandfather, I mean. If you don't have anything else to do.” You don't blush, at least. That's good. The smile he turns on you almost makes up for stumbling over your own words, though. “I'd like that.” >t galen You'll have plenty of time to talk to him about himself later. >a cuff “So what the hell is up with the me-suppressing cuff?” you demand. “Your grandfather,” he says mildly. “My collar. Which you removed from me. Returning the favor seems appropriate.” >t cuff “Thank you,” you say. “For removing the cuff, I mean.” He looks uncomfortable with your thanks. “No problem,” he says. “Now we're even.” The cement is drying outside. >a bobby “Come on, what is this problem you have with Bobby?” Galen growls, “He's a worm. If he'd understood what you were, I could have paid him to turn you over to me. Anyone could have, and he wouldn't have asked for very much. He let me have you at the park.” >a bobby You hesitate. “Really?” He pauses, and his voice is a bit softer. “I've learned to recognise the scent, and I've seen his dreams.” >a bobby “What was in his dreams?” you ask nervously. “Your nightmares. Domination. Degredation,” he says. For a moment there's a bit of blue sky in the shifting clouds overhead. >a bobby You're not sure you believe him, but you always knew, deep inside, that Bobby was charming, not virtuous. You wanted something human. >t bobby “I really liked Bobby,‘ you say sadly. He sighs. “I know.” >t bobby You say quietly, “Bobby was a link for me. Something that would, every day, remind me about being human. Something to hold on to at night.” He looks away again, silently. Galen rubs a spot under his eye. >t bobby Bobby was your link to being human, but maybe he wasn't the best choice. >t human His eyes flick towards you and then back outside. >topic The word “topic” is not necessary in this story. (If this was an accidental misspelling, you can correct it by typing OOPS followed by the corrected word now. Any time the story points out an unknown word, you can correct a misspelling using OOPS as your next command.) >topics It might be interesting to talk about your eyeglasses. >t eyeglasses Hopefully now he understands the point of your eyeglasses. >topics It might be interesting to talk about money. >t money You've got a whole theory on economics, but somehow you suspect this isn't the best time to discuss it. >a money Money always complicates things. >topics It might be interesting to talk about money. >topics It might be interesting to talk about your eyeglasses. >topics It might be interesting to talk about the park. >a park “When we were at the park, you showed up practically out of nowhere. How did you find me?” you ask. He hesitates and then says, “By visiting you in your dreams, a temporary link was forged that gave me a directional heading when we were both awake.” >a park He found you at the park through ordinary dreamtracking. Ordinary. Hah. >t park “When I saw you at the park, for real, I couldn't believe it. I'd known you were coming, but I didn't want to... believe it, I suppose. And then there you were, so... ordinary. But real.” You address your comments to the windshield rather than the man. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his head move towards you briefly. “Ordinary.” His mutter seems amused. >t park You look out the window. “I've always liked parks,” you comment. “I like cities, too, but a good park is perfect. It should have a rose garden, and a big rolling field for chasing dogs, and a playground for kids, and a deep dark grove of trees, and be surrounded on all four sides by downtown.” You turn your gaze on him. “Sidewalk artists and buskers and craft markets are also good.” “Most people who like the outdoors would leave the city,” he observes. You shake your head. “The wilderness isn't human. I like humans.” He is silent. Galen looks out the window. A kid on a scooter zooms by. >t park You've told him your ideal park, and you've told him about how unreal his appearance there was. Galen glances over at you, an odd look on his face. >a park He found you at the park through ordinary dreamtracking. Ordinary. Hah. >topics You have no idea what to say to Galen. >topics It might be interesting to talk about his necklace. >topics It might be interesting to talk about his necklace. >topics It might be interesting to talk about his necklace. >topics You have no idea what to say to Galen. >topics It might be interesting to talk about the dreams. >a dreams “How exactly do you do the dream-visiting trick?” you ask. “It's hard to explain,” he says. A pair of teenagers wander by, sharing a cigarette. >a dreams Man, his special abilities aren't well-documented at all. >[ha!] The story doesn't know how to use the character ‘[’ in a command. >t dreams “I remember you, from my dreams.” You close your eyes. “You were a presence watching me. At first I thought you were just another of the ephemera, but there's something different about your presence there.” He is quiet, but you can sense that he is listening closely to you. A baseball flies over the roof of the car. A moment later, a girl scrambles after it. >t dreams “You didn't intrude, for which I'm grateful.” There's a bit of heat in your cheeks. “You were just on the edges, a shadow in a cloak of black wings, with burning eyes, watching. And getting closer.” He smiles faintly at your description of him. A skateboarder rolls down the sidewalk. >t dreams You think about other dreams you've had, of the ephemera and more terrifying entities, but you're not ready to talk about those. >out (first opening the car door) You open the door. You slide out of the car. After The Rain There's comfortable scent of wet sidewalk and shattered ozone. Whirling autumn leaves race down the gutter as the late afternoon sky brightens overhead. To the south, there's a park, and beyond that, the embrace of the city awaits. >t bye Whom do you want to tell? >galen Galen is too far away. >in What do you want to enter? >car Car The car is large and comfortable, upholstered in sleek grey. The control panel on his side flashes discreet symbols you never learned to read, but in the center of the dashboard is the stereo, and above it hangs a mirror. The car has a back seat as well as a front; usually his kind comes in groups. There's only a plain black briefcase back there, though. Galen is lounging inside the car. The beautiful sonorous chords of cello music flood the car. >t bye There's not a flicker of expression on that face. >out You slide out of the car. After The Rain There's comfortable scent of wet sidewalk and shattered ozone. Whirling autumn leaves race down the gutter as the late afternoon sky brightens overhead. To the south, there's a park, and beyond that, the embrace of the city awaits. >s You head south, to the park. As you do, he gets out of the car and leans against it, watching you go with a strange wistful expression on his face. Whimsically, you wave at him over your shoulder. A few days later, you're sitting a coffeeshop, reading a new book. You look up as he approaches your table, and push a chair out for him with your foot. “So,” you say, suddenly shy. “I was starting to wonder if you'd forgotten.” He grins at you. “I had to take care of some business and let my family know where I've been all this time.” “Tell me about them,” you say. “Are they like you?” He shrugs easily. “Some are like me. Others aren't. Here, I'll tell you about my favorites, and later, there's some places I'd like to show you. Maybe I can introduce you then.” ***You win.*** Would you like to RESTORE a saved position, RESTART the story, or QUIT? >quit Thanks for playing!