[IC] [Skybreaker] Looking Glass [Lookie]

[Lookie]

Moving to his aunts was meant to bring Micah some sort of stability into his life, but instead he was trying his best to comfort a woman who'd just lost her kid to something no-one could stop. It was fucking insane, because his aunt asked him the dumbest, meaningless questions about god and fate. Mike couldn't really give her an answer. Aunt Helen asked them anyway, crying on the sofa while he awkwardly patted at her back, trying to show some sort of support.

Rosie had been a really fucking cute kid. She'd been just 6 years old, and she'd liked drawing and butterflies. That was kind of it though. Micah didn't really know much more than that about her. It was unfair, this much he knew. The world was full of assholes, and instead of them, God decided to kill a six year old kid that liked butterflies. Aunt Helen had told him that Rosie had really liked him, and that had made the whole situation sting like a bitch. Apparently him being there for the last month had somehow been important to the kid. Mike was pretty much worthless in making people feel better though, so he wasn't sure where his aunt had gotten that idea from. Guess Rosie might have said so before she died. Or maybe Helen was trying to make him feel better, he really didn't know. Aunt Helen did try her best. Even after everything that had happened to her, she seemed to remember that the last few months had been pretty rough on Mike as well. She got why he was angry, and she tried to help the best she could. What Mike wanted now was to return the favor, but he didn't know how.

That was why Micah was locked inside the only bathroom in the apartment when he should have been sleeping. He couldn't do shit to help her out on his own, so maybe bringing back the dead would work.

This was probably the most pathetic, dumbest things he'd tried in a long time. Micah glanced at the spotless mirror again before letting out a huff of laughter. This wasn't going to work. What the heck was he thinking, listening to some idiot goth chick with an overactive imagination? Having a ritual like this wasn't very Christian of him either. Aunt Helen, she'd be pissed if she knew. Checking in on the time from his phone, Mike let himself slouch on the bathroom floor for a moment longer before getting up. Time to get this over with.

"What the fuck am I doing with my life?" Mike found mumbling to himself, staring at the familiar face in the mirror. Shit, he looked like a zombie. No wonder no-one talked to him. He glanced at the cracked phone again before leaning over the bathroom counter, letting his lips meet the polished, spotless surface of the mirror.

[Skybreaker]

Previously, the worst of Greyson's worries was getting a 'B' in Algebra II. Though he was very smart, he did his best not to come off as the nerdy type. He was a stubborn teenager with boy-next-door looks. He had short chestnut hair paired with hazel eyes, and skin the color of curdled milk- light, but not porcelain.

He had that daring quality that made him a bit rediculous at times. Though he had book smarts, he lacked logic and common sense. If a man with a gun asked what one plus one was, he would say 'two' instead of running away. His twin brother, Drayden, was the one that kept him in check. But now...

Drayden was dead. No longer than a week ago, Greyson had been riding with his family in their car. His parents were in the front, and he was in the back with his brother. None of them were prepared for a truck to smash into their car and wreck it. Their car had skidded off of the highway railing and tumbled down a cliff, where the four were tossed and turned. Greyson suffered from a fractured arm, but that was nothing compared to the death of his brother, or the comatose state of his parents.

It all felt like a nightmare. One moment, Drayden was laughing and joking with him, and the next either of them knew, there was blood everywhere. Drayden's body crashed through the window and into the chasm below. Greyson was left to cry and scream and shout until the helicopters came and airlifted him to the hospital.

His arm didn't need a cast, but Grey insisted on having one. The teen was devastated. Though he was fairly popular at school, nobody understood him like Drayden did. And, he was convinced, nobody would ever understand him the way he did.

The male placed a single, non wounded hand on the silvery surface of the mirror. He had been searching the world wide web on how to cope with this kind of loss. One of the ideas was to bring Drayden back. Now, everything he knew about this kind of thing was related to demons and Satan. It was too bad Grey had a vivid imagination. Why did he believe that this would work?

His grandparents had been kind enough to take him in while his parents 'recovered', but he needed Drayden. He needed his support system. On the vanity in his room was a large mirror. Grey was ready to use it. Suddenly, the grandfather clock down the hall began its tolling, and he was suddenly afraid to kiss the cold glass, but urged himself to do it anyways.

To his surprise, he was kissing just a hard surface. Grimacing, the boy began o pull away, but soon realized the lips were stuck! In a slight panic, he tapped the surface of the mirror frantically, but his palms soon stuck as well. Before he knew it, he was being pulled into the mirror. His lips were sealed, he could not even scream.

[Lookie]

As soon as his lips touched the surface, Mike couldn't really help but feel ridiculous. Nothing happened, all he could feel was the cool surface of the mirror. Yes, this definitely was the most pathetic thing he'd tried in a while, Mike thought as he opened his eyes. Familiar green eyes stared back, amused that he'd even given this a try. He was glad he hadn't been stupid enough to get his hopes up.

But as the boy went to pull away, he found his lips stuck on the mirrors surface. Amusement changed into surprise and then panic as he struggled away from the mirror. It didn't help. Instead, it felt himself sinking into the mirror. The more he struggled against it, the faster the mirror pulled him in. He fought it even harder, pushing his hands against the mirror, trying to pull away. Instead his hands sunk in as if the mirror was water. Mike wasn't certain how long he struggled. Time seemed to slow down, but at the same time everything happened too fast for the boy to react to it all. Soon he felt his hands hit something soft and much more organic than the bathroom mirror he'd tried to pull away from before. The rest of his body followed as the mirror spit him out.

It took a while for the boy to sit up from the ground. Opening his eyes was even more difficult. Whatever this was, it wasn't normal. He didn't really even know what had happened. Warily, Mike opened his eyes, patting at he ground beneath him. At least it felt like normal ground. He stared at the brownish orange ground underneath him before finally lifting his head up.

"Oh, no fucking way..."

The first thing that caught his eye was the sky. Multiple moons riddled the sky, differing in size and shape. The color of the sky seemed to shift from purples to oranges and blues as he stared up. As Mike stood up, he glanced around. There fas a forest not too far away. The strange, oddly shaped trees shifted around, not truly following the movement of the slight breeze Mike could feel. On the opposite side of the forest he saw a bendy road disappearing behind the tall, bumpy rock formations that seemed to go on forever.

Where the fuck was he supposed to go? This was insane. Mike pinched at the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his breathing as calm as he could. Was he supposed to find Rosie from here? He didn't even know where he was. Even if he did find his cousin, how was he supposed to get back? The mirror was nowhere to be seen. He let out a strangled chuckle. Great, now he was the one asking questions he had no answers to. That wouldn't help anyone.

Mike wasn't one for asking help from strangers, but he believed this counted as an emergency situation. So clearing his throat, Mike raised his voice.

"Is there anyone out here?!"

[Skybreaker]

The liquid mirror began to tug at him slowly. It was as he was sinking into the surface of the mirror, and Grey couldn't even comprehend where he was going. The only thing that he cared about was escaping, but it was pointless. Eventually, his eyes slipped shut as he fell in all the way. He opened them quickly as he came into impact with something hard that knocked the wind out of him. "Ugh!" He grunted, then tried to regain his breath.

When his eyes flickered open, he caught the scent of cinnamon bark. Instinctively, he brushed a hand through light brown hair and combed a few bits of dirt from his slightly spiky strands. Panicked eyes scanned his surroundings, searching for a mirror, a door, something that he could use to return. But there was nothing like that in sight. He did see the ground was a sunny orange-brown color, and the sky was bright hues. There were several moons out. Grey bit his lip almost to the point where it bled, but not quite. "Maybe... I'm the one that died..." He murmured to himself as he brushed the dust off of his pajama pants and matching shirt. He had tried to find comfort in snugly clothes...

The trees looked like they were almost hairy in the abundance of leaves they had. None of the ones around him looked to have flowers or fruit, but did have leaves that had reddish or pink tints which Grey found unusual. "Okay... now I'm a little scared..." He muttered before placing a hand on the trunk of a nearby tree. He appeared to be in some sort of forest, even though there was a curvy road that lead to who-knows-where.

The trees swirled into spirals as they grew upwards, and he wondered if he could play in the botany like playground equipment, though that was highly unlikely. When he reached out to touch a leaf, it crinkled in his hand like a plastic sandwich wrap and he plucked it off the tree. Like a detective, the teen lifted it to his nose. It didn't smell like cinnamon, but like chlorophyll. Out of pure childish curiosity, Grey shrugged and bit into it. He made a face and spat it out soon afterwards. It tasted like sardines. He had read many trees had fish alleles in them, but never really thought much of it until now.

"Drayden!" He called, wondering how he should find his twin. But before he got a proper response, Grey heard a voice call out. His eyes widened hopefully. That was either another person, or his subconscious was speaking to him.

"No, nobody's here." He piped rather smugly, hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. "Who are you, not-a-tree?" He said in a lower, gruff voice, deciding to mess with whoever spoke out. It wasn't as if he was afraid. Besides, it could be Drayden.