The Old Guard/Sandman - Despair, Desire, Booker
There are those mirrors Despair will linger in front of, perturbed at being thwarted, but usually the problem sorts itself out when their older sister takes the thwarter.
This one is different, the lingering drawn out into a vexing siege. Desire peers over their twin’s shoulder and studies the bloodshot eyes, the long nose. “One of the Old Ones?”
Despair nods, absent-mindedly dragging her hook through her flesh. “He should be mine. He is, sometimes, but then he… flickers out. As if something is pulling him back, or trying.”
Desire shrugs. “Their kind are slippery. Wait him out, sweet sister.”