A figure knelt just as the edge of the light, squatting. A long tail slithered lazily over the ground in front of it, snakelike, lashing back and forth slowly.
Oh... gosh. The tail looked familiar, too.
Leaning forward onto hands and knees, Hack... crawled into the light, and smiled at herself.
"I DONT care foR sugar honey IF I CaNT haVE yoooo," she crooned softly. Seeing Gadget's eyes helplessly locked on it, she arched her back in blatant display, clearly reveling in the simple action of being seen, a soft rrrr of pleasure rumbling from her throat.
It... was her, she was pretty sure, Gadget thought. Most of the time. Most of it. When you weren't looking at it *very carefully*, any bit of it you let out of sight kept changing, just a little. The tail was more rat like, then just as suddenly a perfect anatomical specimen of mouse beauty. Teeth glinted out of the pristine muzzle, and vanished. Dainty paws had chilling, razor-sharp claws, then were once again unadorned.
Hack was completely naked, of course. This was about the only thing that didn't shock Gadget. Nothing seemed more obvious.
"HERE to walk ON bRoKeN glass AGAIN?" Hack inquired sweetly. "HERE every YEAR. should be TIRED ofitbynow," she squeaked, her voice speeding up. "Tiredtiredtired of KEEPINGMEALL lockedup??" The claws lashed out, the thing's face contorted in anger, slashing deep rips through Gadget's jumpsuit.
The mouse simply couldn't do anything but stare. Every instinct yelled, begged, a dozen different responses from her, from the most instinctive to carefully reasoned schemes to put this thing DOWN, for good. Nothing. The only thing she could listen to was Hack.
"WHYWHYWHY," she/it whimpered, curling in on itself, tail wrapping around its bare body. "HURT evERy ye... ar... stoppit..." with the same wide eyes the child had, it looked at her, tears forming. "jusgoway," it whispered, turning, and crawling back into the darkness. "jus... go way..."
Gadget felt like someone was squeezing her gut. Reminding herself of the physical impossibility of this did little to relieve the sensation. "I never hurt anyone... on purpose..." she whispered, her own eyes watering. "I- I didn't mean..."
Subject continues classical denial routines. No noted variance from dream event schedule to date...
Gadget vaguely felt like she, in fact, knew something of the routine being spoken of already. Watch. Someone new, except they weren't really new, of course, as for some reason they were all her, walks into the light. Try and do things but not be able to. It felt- er- well, like everything else... familiar.
A mouse, hair cut short, attired in a lab coat long enough to nearly reach the floor, entered, speaking in a near monotone into a small handset. A cord snaked to a recorder attached to her waist.
Will be leaving recording online on off chance 'Section 3: Introductions and Explanations' fails to follow normal procedures. The lab mouse glanced down at Gadget almost expressionlessly, the slightest frown crossing her face, just for a moment. Mental note, colloquialism: don't hold my breath.
She snapped the handset onto her belt, next to the recorder, and offered Gadget her paw. "Come on. Get up. I can't believe you still haven't learned a modicum of controlled dream imagery after all this time. Even some humans have worked that one out," she intoned. "Still can't even properly control your motions when Hack's online, and she's the weakest of the lot? Unacceptable."
She pulled Gadget to her feet, and began walking away. The spotlight followed her, and Gadget hastily trotted to keep up, not wanting to find out what happened if she left it and fell into the darkness.
"My persona is Ms. Hackwrench. I do wish your subconscious had a bit more artistic creativity," she said crossly. "Keep moving. We have a lot to see."