Louise
It was happening again. 

Uriel long since was able to discover the tell-tale signs of narcolepsy rearing it's ugly head. They only had a couple of seconds of forewarning, but it was enough— one moment, they were walking down the stairs, and the next their body slid down the stairs, a *Thunk, thunk, thunk* Sounding with every step their head banged on. 

Thank god they had experience with this— their hands crossed under their head, making the injuries to their skull slight. A small trail of blood tainted their white hair red, the impact of the stairs against their skull enough to leave a nasty mark. 

As their consciousness faded, Uriel only hoped no one would move their body. It was enough to pass out in public— but the feeling of something happening while you slept, the feeling of being unconscious for someone *Dragging* You places made them sick and squeamish. 

*Please, just... Leave me alone*, they thought, before passing out.
Susie
Mimir did not leave her room often. She had spent several days taking the time to decorate it, and she preferred not to be bothered by strangers who ask questions she had told them the answers to before. Their purple hair swishes as they turn towards their door, gloves off as she runs a hang through her hair, the pink tattoos on her hand and wrist standing out against her purple hair, her other hand opening the door. Slowly, it opens, and she steps into the hallway, wearing the usual, only this time substituting her boots for a pair of sneakers. She only needed some ribbon, and knew where to find it.

The pink contacts on her eyes would be jarring to any stranger, but luckily, she didn't see anyone as she did a quick glance of the hallway before stepping out into it, sighing as she makes her way towards the stairs, humming to itself mindlessly as she walks, zoning out for a moment before they stop at the top of the stairs.

"Oh." Mimir looks down to see a curious figure, collapsed on the stairs, arms clasped to cover their head as best they can. Of course, it isn't blind, it sees the blood, tipping their head to the side as they crouch down, trying to piece together everything they knew about this albino from everything they saw in the messages on their phone. 

Uriel. White hair, albino, doesn't know how to dress... Narcoleptic. It all caught up to her quickly, and she scoffs, as if she's unimpressed with the sad sight in front of her. Her wrists rest on her knees, weighing the pros and cons of what she wanted to do. Mimir wonders if they'd blab to someone, but based off of their behavior in chats, it seemed like they were a suckup who wanted to make nice with everyone, even someone like her.

She reaches her hand out, he fingertips resting on the back of their hand, and then her eyes begin to glow, the soft pink light lighting up her cheeks and the strands of hair that fell onto her face.

All at once, she's greeted with images, feelings, and voices. She catches glimpses of things, nothing coherent at first, until... 

*Oh. What is this?* She feels her eyebrows raise as the memories still for a moment. This... This was something vulnerable. The man in this memory, he looked familiar, but only in the sense of someone she had seen in a photo. It felt the fear in Uriel, but it hardly phased the memory walker at this point. As the memory plays out in front of them, the torture all too realistic for a dream, Mimir finally places a name to the face — Oliver. *One of the staff?* 

Now... Why had Uriel tried to get into the head of a staff member? Just as the question presented itself, the memory was over, and Mimir was pulled out, yanking her hand back before another memory played. They stand, slowly, staring down at Uriel, the glow in its eyes fading as they brush a strand of hair behind her ear. Should they move them to a safer spot? They glance back down the hall, debating going back to their room to grab a pair of gloves, no longer paying attention to the unconscious person behind them.
Louise
One. 
T W O. 

Uriel's hand moves on its own. Blood pours down their forehead as they struggle to their feet. 

It was the first time they've had a nightmare, saved by the times their powers reared an ugly head at their supposed master. That memory repeated itself in their head, over and over and over... The image of *Bugs under their skin* And a man taunting them burned itself into their eyelids, and Uriel clawed at their face. 

"I dreamed..." They grunt, getting to their knees. Their vision swum, and Uriel looked up at the mysterious figure with sickened eyes. 

"What... Did you do?" They start, resting their weight onto their knees. Dark pools of grey look up at a blur of pink with the same view a captured animal would have towards its hunter. The feeling of something unfamiliar, someone *Doing something with their mind*, made the taste of bile crawl up their throat.
Susie
Before Mimir can make a final decision, she hears movement behind her. She begins to wonder if maybe someone else found the dreamweaver, but as she turns around, she's surprised to find that Uriel had awoken, and was moving. Instinctively, it tenses, standing above the albino in preparation for anything. Of course, they didn't seem like the type to pull punches, but who knows! Mimir was always one for bringing out the worst in people.

The blood on their face and the clawing motion of their hands made something go off in her mind. Not quite pride, but definitely not shame either. Somewhere in there was a twinge of worry — that was a lot of blood, after all — but it was expertly masked as they eye Uriel. *Dreamed?* This was interesting. It must be because of their powers. The memory resurfacing while they were unconscious must have presented as a dream to them. Mimir was never there to see how the person experienced this aftermath, of course, especially with a memory this volatile. It was a lot to chew on, but a tasty line of thought nonetheless. 

She continues to stare down at them, the question not seeming to phase it at all. In fact, she sighs.

"That's an awful lot of blood there." The words are devoid of worry. It's presented as an observation, more than anything, and they raise a hand up, the tattoo level with their eyes.

"I can't exactly help you up, if you couldn't tell," A small, crooked smile creeps onto Mimir's face, and she wiggles her fingers, to emphasize the point. *No touching!* Uriel is smart, they can put the pieces together. She has faith in them. "I can go grab some gloves to help you, or if you can get up, I'll get some bandages and we can go to the hospital, the possibilities are endless, really." She almost laughs as she finally lets silence fill the space between them, eye contact unflinching.

Uriel looks so... Sad. The short trip through their mind was revealing, sure, the sheer fragility of this person and their mind was not lost on the memory walker, but with a power this *Grand,* You would think they had some more faith in themself, in their ability to retaliate against her. She knows they can. But why *Wouldn't* They? It almost pissed her off. Another sigh leaves her lips as she breaks eye contact, rolling her eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that. It's not like I pushed you down those stairs."
Louise
"It's just a head wound. It bleeds, but it is shallow. I'll be fine." Uriel puts a hand to their scalp, staring blankly at their gloves when it comes back red and damp. 

Blood. It had been a while since such a fall had injured them so. Uriel idly toys with going to the nurse, but... A small part of them felt guilty at bothering the clearly over-worked woman. 

They had their own medical equipment at home, anyway. Worst case, it's not like they would *Bleed out.* No, this injury was mildly annoying, but certainly not lethal. 

"You would... Help me to the hospital?" Uriel frowns, propping themselves to their knees. "But you went inside my head. It doesn't seem as if you have good intentions." 

They leaned closer to the figure in front of them, eyes locked onto the pink contacts staring back at them. 

The expression on the person's face... It was one Uriel had come to know fairly well. It was the face of a *Predator* — the same expression an executioner would have before the telltale swing of an axe was plastered on this persons face. It was plastered on *All* Of their faces, eventually; when they realized Uriel's commitment to non-aggression was real, when they glanced behind their shoulders and realized no one was watching and that their victim would never tell. 

"You are... Mimir, yes?"
Susie
This all felt so strange to Mimir. They were used to being lashed out at, attacked, accused, or just ignored. This wasn't quite confrontational, but it wasn't completely passive either. Maybe she didn't give Uriel enough credit, maybe they were a little more clever than she thought. It was almost exciting, to find someone who could be on a level playing field, but she wasn't about to get ahead of herself. 

Uriel seems like they've been dealing with this — the falls and the results of them — for a long time now. *You'd think they would keep someone with them to keep this from happening.* Head wound her ass, that was a concerning amount of blood, but who was she to give out medical advice? She'd seen worse and dealt with worse anyway. It wasn't worth her time to fight this.

"Yes, I would help you to the hospital. I don't want you *Dead,*" Mimir sets the bar low enough and then steps right over it. It wasn't lying, either. It is many things, but a killer? Never. She only wanted some information. "Good people can do bad things. And vice versa. I have been inside many minds." They keep their tone mostly flat, keeping emotion out of this. She's not here for feelings.

Mimir knew they had much in common. Getting into someone's psyche... It was never welcomed well. The look on Uriel's face, the feelings, all of it was so familiar to them. Fortunately for them, she had been able to grow past this. It was temporary. The guilt, the shame, it was nothing in comparison to what she could do. It was a shame that they weren't on the same page.

"What gave me away?" She laughs, and it's genuine, not that Uriel would be able to tell. "Surely it was the memory thing. Right? It's not like you knew what I looked like, Uriel." 

Mimir almost wanted to roll her eyes.
Louise
"You don't want me *Dead.*" They add their own emphasis, rocking their head back and forth as they pondered Mimir's response. "Then what do you want of me?" 

Uriel frowned, although it didn't reach their eyebrows— in fact, for someone bleeding and forced to relieve a horrible experience, their face is decidedly neutral save for initial flicker of shock that graced their face. "It's certainly not something pleasant, I'd imagine, given your... Introduction." *And the look on your face*, they held back, but the sentiment was conveyed well enough from the quirk of their eyebrow to the slow, calculated look at the rest of Mimir's person. 

"I'm not one for coyness, nor one for reading between the lines. I'm afraid you might have to state your intentions up front in order to elicit the response you're looking for." It's soft, oddly so, an apology for Uriel's lack of social awareness. 

A gloved hand finds their way towards their chin, and Uriel's tired grey eyes narrow in thought. "Ah, but— if you're looking to harm me, it would be wise for us to find somewhere else to do this." They look past Mimir and behind their back, scouting around for those lingering the halls at this time of night.

"You wouldn't want someone to catch you in the act, no?" Uriel's eyes twinkle, and they smile sweetly at the magenta-eyed figure in front of them.
Susie
In contrast to Uriel's movement, Mimir was deathly still, only their eyes and mouth moving as she needed them to. She listened to them intently, watching their face. She tried to imagine how they would look side by side. Drastically different, and yet... 

They scoff. "What I want from you?" 

Mimir almost isn't sure how best to approach the question. There were many layers to all of this, truly. She wanted to know what it was like here, wanted to know how their powers would react to each other, wanted to learn something about Uriel, wanted something to keep them on a leash, wanted *Control.* This place is not familiar to it, but they would make it comfortable at least. Not that it would tell them all that. 

"How's a girl supposed to relax without getting to know her neighbors?" That smile again, and it was so obvious that she found herself amusing. Overall, it didn't quite care for how much Uriel could pick up social cues, hell, she wasn't much better, for the most part. She wondered if the dreamweaver was getting frustrated with this conversation. 

Almost all at once, she moves, stepping down and leaning towards Uriel. "I just wanted to get a little something on you, yeah?" She leans back, laughing again. 

"I don't want to harm you. If I did, I would have already pushed you down the stairs and made the witnesses forget they ever saw me." The smile drops almost instantly as they state it, raising an eyebrow. "Quite honestly, you do look like quite the punching bag, but I'm not here to pick fights."

Uriel's smile was meant to be well intentioned. Uriel as a whole is meaning to be well-intentioned. Mimir could tell, and she didn't like it. Why are they trying so hard to make nice and suck up to her? Doesn't it *Hurt* To care that much? She settles back into her stillness, blinking at them.

"Why are you so keen on me hurting you?"
Louise
"A little something on me...?" At that, Uriel's hand strokes their chin, murky pools of grey staring off somewhere in thought. "Hm. Interesting. Did you find what you were looking for?"

So that was what the Oliver deal was about. *Blackmail.* Uriel couldn't comprehend a thought, if they were being truthful— being blackmailed was something they had never considered, and so... They simply didn't, their snowy eyelashes fluttering closed as they hummed to themselves in thought. 

Blackmail? Uriel? To use their powers for her own gain, or... Maybe just in case? They couldn't imagine why their powers would be needed when Mimir had their own— a fact that weighed the latter option a bit heavier in their mind. 

*Why are you so keen on me hurting you?* Uriel would have laughed, if they thought it was funny. 

Uriel had long since known they deserved what happened to them— now, the question was, did the same thing happened to Mimir? It was an interesting thought. Her similarly-invasive powers would cause people to react in the same way, with tales of boogeymen in the shape of a child lurking in the dark. But... At least to Uriel's knowledge, no evil blood flowed in Mimir's veins. There were no original sins she had to atone for with blood and bruises, nor any forefathers who wielded their abilities with an unforgiving fist. 

Did the Universe find it fit to punish Mimir for what she couldn't control, too?

"You're like me, no?" They start, looking up at down at Mimir incredulously. "Don't tell me they never hurt you for what you could do?" 

Uriel saw how they treated her in intra— how she loudly proclaimed her powers and expected everyone to avoid her because of it. They used to do the same thing when the spindles of time turned backwards long, long ago— the too-old yet still too-young child would gently kick their feet when approached, looking up at any transfer students or people who weren't in the 'know' about them with placid eyes. *Your parents should have told you to stay away from me,* They'd say, leaving the schoolchildren in wonder until a helpful student pulled the clueless person aside and filled them into the rumors; how the mysterious white haired child could go inside your head when you slept, eating your nightmares with little remorse or expression save for that same, wistful stare.
Susie
*Did you find what you were looking for?* No. Mimir did not. Not that it was a sign of failure, though. It's not like they were looking for something specific anyway, just a glint of who Uriel *Really* Is. To prove herself right, that no one with powers like theirs would ever have purely good intentions. There was so much to figure out with this... Similarity between them. It was intriguing to her. 

Though... This would be excellent blackmail, and she knew that as soon as she recognized Oliver in the memory. It could use this to its advantage, and was fully prepared to. They had too much in common, and were walking a very thin line. At any moment, one could reach into the other's mind, and Mimir had only proven this. She wondered if Uriel's powers were triggered by touch as well, considering how they dress, but wasn't totally sure, and she wasn't about to ask, either. 

Mimir knew she was not deserving of any pain caused by her powers. They were in her control, and she knew that being able to root out the people who would cause her this pain would be the first step to keeping that control. If people wanted to hurt her, they had good reason to, but that didn't mean she would sit there and take it. Maybe there was just a *Little* Evil in her, but it had a reason to be there.

They wonder why people were so kind to Uriel, despite knowing what they're capable of. Was it because they would bend over backwards to smooth over any worry from a stranger? 

"We are not the same, Uriel," She notes the way they look at her. "They may have hurt me, but I'm not going to roll over and show my belly so they feel inclined to do so." 

It sees right through them, or thinks it does. Mimir blinks, keeping eye contact with Uriel. Her powers were as much of a burden for her as the dreamweaver's was for them. It knew that same struggle, but it was very apparent to her that the aftereffects were treated very differently for them. She knows what she is and she knows how people feel about her, but the rumors around her were more than her powers. They were about the last person that tried something on her reliving his mother's death and breaking down in front of her. It knows how to control people and it was not afraid to do so.

No one was going to hurt her while she was here, and if they did, they would suffer the consequences.

"I don't *Let* People hurt me, and I *Especially* Don't let them walk over me."
Louise
"I do that entirely for my own benefit as I do their own. I'm not a masochist, Mimir. Do you really think someone like me would be allowed to live if I didn't act in such a manner?" 

Mimir *Was* Similar to them, despite its behavior. Or perhaps *Because* Of its behavior. After all, wasn't Mimir acting in the same manners of their uncles and aunts they were told about in the hushed dark so long ago, from a mother who had too many glasses of wine and let familial secrets and old feuds and dark pasts slip from her lip? 

Perhaps that's what lead Uriel to loosen their lips in the same manners, speaking thoughts they had dared speak out loud lest they come to life and possess their body. There sparked a small hope, that these *Thoughts* That lurked in the dark underbelly of their mind wasn't a testament to their inherent sinfulness. Mimir was *Similar to them*. Mimir *Understood*. Perhaps, if she thought the same, then... Those corrosive thoughts eating at their mind weren't as evil as Uriel had dreaded?

"Besides... You can't help but feel bad for them, sometimes. If they lash out because of their *Emotions*... Well, that's just humans being humans. It's more trouble than its worth to make it into a whole affair." Uriel sighs, palming their cheek and drumming their side of their face.

"Really, it's better to sit and take it until they find someone else or calm down. Harboring any anger towards them for just doing what humans always do... It's a little futile, no?" Tints of *Something* Colored their speech; not disgust, not weariness, not a surrender of the human condition, but something just close enough to seem strange coming from their mouth; a distant cousin of those emotions, rolled up into a placid, well-meaning package.

Their minced words and even tone didn't make the pill easier to swallow. It made it drip with acid instead.
Susie
Something was changing in Uriel, and Mimir was intrigued by it. She listened to how they spoke, how they revealed their perception of people to her, and she wasn't sure what to think, not at first. To start, she hated the idea of having to take hits to be respected, and the look on her face as Uriel spoke about this aspect of themself made this clear.

"Being *Allowed* To live is a low, low goal. You just want the easy way out," They squint, trying to get a better read on them now that they seemed to be loosening up. This definitely hadn't gone the way she had initially anticipated, but she wasn't a time traveller. Just a memory reader. Like Uriel, they knew their limits, especially in comparison to the average human. However, this...

This was something entirely different. Was she hearing them right? Did this spindly albino think they were this far above those who weren't born with powers like them? Mimir wonders if it could find a memory to pinpoint this line of thought, this complex. Did it come from family? From someone here? It piqued her curiosity, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. Regardless of where this came from, it was something they did not share. Sure, they knew they were stronger than any normal person could be, and they used it to their advantage, but she wasn't like *This.* This... Was a step further then she'd ever dream of taking. It sets her on edge, although she doesn't show it. 

"You're human too, Uriel. You have emotions," Unless they didn't, but... Something about this whole conversation told Mimir otherwise. "Sure, I feel bad for them, but I'm not going to let them take it out on me." 

Something a little closer to annoyance leaks into her voice, her previous (mostly) monotone speech shifting as she dwells on this further. "I'm not a punching bag. It's not my job to deal with how they feel about me. They can fuck right off, and if they don't, it's their fault they had to learn the hard way. You're not above *Feeling.*" 

No amount of well-meaning-ness would ever make this easy for Mimir. It was almost baffling to her, how Uriel was able to think like this with such ease. It didn't sit well with it at all. It had seen what people were capable of, just like them, but it wasn't going to be complacent in all of it. She didn't want to be another sad sack of tears and people pleasing sentiments. She's above that.
Louise
Uriel hums noncommittally at Mimir's words, their eyes growing just a bit too blank at what she has to say. 

*You're human too*, she had said. A part of Uriel didn't believe her. 

Grey pools for eyes briefly flickered towards their alternate universe mirrored self. A familiar sickening feeling crawls into their stomach, burrowing its way into their heart and clawing into their muscle tissue; the feeling of someone *Not getting it*. A betrayal of sorts, from someone who Uriel had such high hopes for— a potential soulmate, squandered, just another knot on the tapestry who couldn't see the bigger picture. 

They had to sigh at the unfortunate circumstance. A low, breathy noise escapes from their lips, and they look back at Mimir with a newfound gaze— a slightly disappointed one, walls raised once again. 

"Perhaps you're right." They mutter. "I suppose it's at least interesting to hear your side of the aisle." 

Despite being like them (supposedly), Mimir still had the same anger fueled, petulant attitude that possessed most humans to scream and kick and lash out and *Hurt* With no remorse. 

They initially thought it was like them. Perhaps they were mistaken. 

"Ah, I should ask... Now that you are in front of me, how is the adjustment to the Cradle?" The polite, thickly-accented words slip out of Uriel's mouth as if practiced a hundred times— it's the same greeting and small talk they'd give to any other new person that wandered through the Cradle doors. 

It was small talk. It was safe. It felt disgusting as the notes lingered in the air.
Susie
She watched Uriel check out as she spoke and she felt the air change, and all at once, Mimir started to get frustrated. It was funny, wasn't it? That even now, with the blood leaking from their forehead, Uriel didn't seem to really ingest that they were just like the humans they though themself to be so far above. It pissed her off, but it made her want to laugh. They really weren't similar at all, just as she thought.

"That's it?" They ignore the question, the attempt at small talk. They were clearly *Beyond* Small talk at this point, if anything, Uriel should be upset at Mimir for intruding in their head to begin with. She could feel herself getting more and more tense by the second, the way this conversation was carrying on. "Uriel, you are not going to be able to keep up this facade forever. If that's really what you think about all the people around you, it will slip up. And the results will not be good." 

It's dead serious, as if coming from a place of experience. It had seen it all play out before. Mimir takes a step back, starting to walk up the stairs and head back to its room. This was not going to continue. This could not continue. 

How can Uriel just pretend nothing happened? Clearly, they had done this before. Someone else knew about this side of them. Mimir wants to pry more, take another look inside their head, but knows she can't. The repercussions would land them with the same head injury, if not worse. *This is so fucked,* The thought repeats, over and over. Someone at the Cradle must know, right? And if no one did...

Well, they deserve to know.

"It was nice to meet you." Mimir finally turns her back to Uriel, looking pleasantly unbothered as she starts walking back to her room. She would need her gloves if she wanted to avoid a seizure today.
Louise
Uriel frowned. Something had changed in her demeanor— but why? They were polite and everything. 

They could only ponder the reason as she turned and walked away. 

Oh well, Uriel thought. And they were getting along so well, too... 

—-