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MidReal Story
The Girl with Wandering Eyes
Anonymous
Apr 22
Scenario:Amy Winehouse’s wax figure at Madame Tussauds and her bronze statue at the Stables Market in Camden Town both come to life and meet each other. As they get to know each other, they envy each other’s compositions and want to swap them. They concentrate balls of their own compositions and launch them at each other, and now Wax Amy is made of bronze and Bronze Amy is made of wax. They each discover several things about their new compositions. Wax Amy discovers that her clothes, including a dress, a belt over it, a necklace, a bow in her hair, a pair of earrings, and a pair of high heels, are now living parts of her anatomy and while she can adjust them, she cannot remove them, and attempts to do so are met with the same resistance as if she tried to remove her skin or limbs. A microphone held in her right hand is also now part of her body and cannot be removed either. Even her hair is fixed in her new bronze body and cannot be addressed in any way. She can now feel sensations through her clothes, microphone, and hair, and the microphone also functions as a second mouth and she can eat, breathe, and speak through it. Meanwhile, Bronze Amy discovers that only her actual body has turned to wax; her clothes, including a corset, a belt, a skirt, a necklace, and a pair of high heels, are now real, inanimate clothes, no longer part of her, and she can remove them. Her hair is also now real hair and she can address it, and with no nerves in her clothes and hair, she can no longer feel sensations through them. Both statues decide to live as their new compositions for a time, and in so doing discover more things about them. Wax Amy, now bronze, finds that if a part of her rigid body chips off, then she cannot reattach it, while Bronze Amy, now wax, finds that she can reattach a part of her amorphous body that comes off for any reason. Wax Amy can withstand heat much more easily because her new bronze body has a much higher melting point and heat just makes her feel warmer, while Bronze Amy is much more vulnerable to heat in her new wax body; Wax Amy suggests that she invest in UV inhibitors to keep from melting. Wax Amy is vulnerable to electricity now that she is bronze, while Bronze Amy is immune to it in her now-wax body. After some time, they decide that while the composition swap has been an engaging experience, they both like their own compositions better and switch back, with Wax Amy’s clothes and microphone returning to inanimate props and her hair becoming real again and Bronze Amy’s clothes and hair again becoming part of her bronze anatomy. They thank each other for the experience and promise to meet again before parting ways, and Wax Amy is excited to try it again after Madame Tussauds changes her clothes, as it does often with its wax figures.
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Amy Winehouse
She is a wax figure of Amy Winehouse at Madame Tussauds. She is imaginative,curious,and adventurous. Her statue comes to life and discovers she can no longer remove her elaborate costume and microphone. She experiences the world from a new,bronze perspective. Her hair is now fixed in place,and she can feel sensations through her clothes and microphone. She enjoys experimenting with her new form,exploring the city in her current state. She meets a reallife version of herself,who is wearing a corset and skirt,and they bond over their shared experiences. They have fun together before deciding to switch back to their original forms.
Real Amy Winehouse
She is a real person and a fan of Amy Winehouse's music. She is observant,witty,and playful. She meets the wax figure of Amy Winehouse at Madame Tussauds and strikes up a conversation. She notices the unusual detail of the statue's hair being styled exactly like Amy's signature look. She engages with the statue in an imaginative conversation,thinking it is a realistic display. When the statue comes to life,she is shocked but fascinated by the event. She enjoys the banter and playfulness of meeting this "flesh and blood" version of Amy Winehouse.
When the lights went down at Madame Tussauds I, Amy Winehouse the wax figure, climbed off my pedestal and stretched.
It had been a long day and I was ready to go home.
But before I could do that, I had to get past the security guards.
I snuck around them and made my way to the storage room where all the props were kept.
I knew exactly which box held my clothes, and sure enough, there they were: a dress, a belt to go over it, a necklace, a bow that would hold my hair in place, a pair of earrings, and some high heels.
I reached for the box labeled ‘Amy Winehouse’ but just as I did, I heard someone behind me.
"Um… hello," said a voice.
I turned around and there was another Amy Winehouse.
This one wasn’t made of wax like me; she was bronze.
"I’m Amy Winehouse from the Stables Market in Camden Town," she said.
"And you are?"
"I’m Amy Winehouse from Madame Tussauds," I told her.
"This is crazy," she said.
"Are you coming to life like me?"
"Yes," I told her.
"I came to life when the lights went down."
"Me too," she said.
"I’ve never met another statue like me before."
"Neither have I," I told her.
I looked at her and saw how the dim lights in the storage room made her bronze surface gleam.
It was so different from my matte wax finish.
She stared at me too, taking in my perfectly molded features.
"I wonder what you’re made of," she said.
"I wonder what you’re made of too," I told her.
"Maybe we can trade."
An idea formed in my mind.
"What if we could trade?"
I asked her.
"Trade what?"
"Our essences. What if we could take our essences and put them into each other?"
"That sounds crazy," she said, but I could tell that she was intrigued by the idea.
"Let’s do it," I said.
"Okay," she agreed.
We stepped back from each other and concentrated on gathering our essences.
I could feel my wax body softening as I gathered my essence into a glowing sphere between my palms.
Across from me, she did the same with her bronze. When we were both ready, we counted to three and threw our essences at each other.
The impact was immediate.
I felt my body hardening as the bronze essence took hold of me.
My dress fused to my skin and my microphone became an extension of my mouth.
My hair stiffened into permanent bronze waves and I could feel the weight of the metal in my bones.
Across from me, the other Amy Winehouse gasped as she felt her own body change.
I watched with fascination as she reached up to touch her new form.
She ran her fingers through her hair and it moved like real hair.
She tugged on the strings of her corset and they actually loosened.
"I can take them off!" she exclaimed, slipping out of her high heels.
I tried to do the same, but my dress was fused to my body like a second skin.
I could feel the weight of the bronze beneath my fingertips, hard and unyielding.
Bronze Amy touched her skirt with wonder, running her hands over the fabric.
"It feels so strange," she said.
"I can’t feel anything through it anymore."
She reached up to touch the necklace around her neck and then pulled it off over her head.
She held it up in front of her, marveling at how it had transformed from part of her body into a real piece of jewelry.
I ran my bronze fingers along my arm, feeling the cool metallic surface beneath my fingertips.
As I did, I accidentally caught my elbow against a shelf.
There was a small crack and a chip of bronze broke off, falling to the floor with a ping.
I bent down to pick it up and tried to press it back onto my elbow, but it wouldn’t stick.
The other Amy noticed my struggle and reached out to break off a small piece of her own wax finger.
She pressed the wax back onto her hand, where it melded seamlessly into place.
"Try heating it," she suggested.
I held the chip near a light bulb and waited for it to warm up, but even then, it refused to fuse back into place.
I stared at the chip in my hand, realizing that some changes are irreversible.
I noticed Bronze Amy flinching away from the overhead lights.
Her new wax surface was already starting to glisten.
I moved closer to the bulb myself, marveling at how the heat only created a pleasant warmth across my metallic skin.
"The lights are making me soft," she said nervously, pressing a finger into her forearm and leaving a slight indentation.
I guided her into a shadowy corner of the storage room and explained what I knew about how Madame Tussauds treated their wax figures.
"You need UV inhibitors mixed into your surface," I told her, remembering my own maintenance sessions.
"It'll protect you from melting."
"How do we get those?" she asked, her voice tinged with urgency.
"I think there's a maintenance kit in the curator's office," I replied, recalling the small room filled with supplies.
"We'll have to sneak in after hours," she said, determination hardening her waxy features.
While exploring the back corridors of the museum, I noticed a section of exposed wiring near a fuse box.
I instinctively stepped back, my bronze body tingling with a newfound awareness of electrical currents.
Bronze Amy noticed my hesitation and approached the electrical panel.
She pressed her waxy hand directly against it, demonstrating how her new composition seemed immune to the power coursing through the wires.
"Look," she said, touching various electrical components without any effect.
Emboldened by her example, I cautiously extended a metallic finger toward one of the exposed wires.
As soon as I made contact, a sharp shock traveled through my bronze form, jolting me backward.
The current seemed to reverberate through my fused dress and even affected the microphone embedded in my throat.
Bronze Amy grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the electrical hazard.
"It's not safe for you," she explained, her voice filled with concern.
I led Bronze Amy down a narrow service hallway, keeping close to the wall to avoid brushing against any more exposed wiring.
The maintenance tunnels beneath Madame Tussauds were a maze of pipes and ducts, but I remembered the path from watching the staff.
At each junction, I tested the metal door handles with my microphone first, since it was now as sensitive as my bronze fingers.
When we reached a locked gate blocking our path, Bronze Amy's malleable wax form allowed her to squeeze through the bars while I had to backtrack to find another way around.
"There's a key on the curator's desk," she called back to me, her voice echoing through the narrow passage.
"I'll find another route and meet you there," I replied, scanning the dimly lit corridor for an alternate path.
"Be careful," she warned, her silhouette disappearing into the shadows ahead.
I pressed my bronze hand against the cold wall, using it as a guide while I moved through the darkness.
The lack of light didn't bother me, as my metallic body could pick up vibrations through the walls, allowing me to sense my surroundings.
Each step echoed metallically as my fused high heels clicked against the concrete floor.
At a junction, I caught the familiar scent of cleaning supplies wafting from one direction.
The curator's office had to be nearby.
I paused at a ventilation grate in the wall, hearing Bronze Amy's muffled movements above.
My microphone picked up her soft footsteps, confirming I was on the right track.
I pause at the end of the tunnel, my bronze fingers detecting the cool metal of a doorframe.
Through my fused microphone, I hear Bronze Amy's soft footsteps inside the office.
Moving cautiously, I push the door wider, its hinges creaking against my metallic palm.
The maintenance lights cast shadows across filing cabinets and supply shelves.
Bronze Amy stands by the curator's desk, her waxy form slightly softened from the room's warmth.
She's already found the UV inhibitor kit and holds it up triumphantly.
"We need this to stabilize your bronze form," she says, her voice a mix of relief and urgency.
"But why would the curator have something like this?" I ask, suspicion creeping into my tone.
"Because he's been experimenting on us," she replies, her eyes meeting mine with a knowing intensity.