The mirror's always been there.
It's been weird. As long as Charlie's lived in this house, there's been that mirror in the basement, ominous and eerie and swirling softly as it reflects the cinder blocks and spare books down in the room. Oliver's not even supposed to be in the basement around it at all, and Tori's always told Charlie that it's not a good idea to mess with the mirror—as if she knows something—but Charlie's not sure if he really cares. After all, Tori's so pessimistic.
That's not to say Charlie isn't either. He doesn't really think there's anything more to the mirror than looking creepy—he doesn't believe in magic or alternate universes or any of that. He believes in their one safe reality, with no fairies or princes behind the glass in the basement.
He doesn't believe in "Prince Charming" or fairytale castles, either. He's used to his normal house in his normal universe, even if he's not so normal himself.
But he's tempted. He's grown up with Tori's instruction to not mess with the basement mirror, and now, he's tempted as all hell. The glass sits there, swirling and letting its purple glow fester in the dim grey of the basement, and Charlie swears that he's never had a better idea.
Charlie Spring is not typically known for his good ideas. He thinks this one will be just as questionable as the others.
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hey!
twitter - telephonespring
(on ao3 under same username, eventually, give me a sec)
#slay