What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?
Posted on Sat Jul 13th, 2024 @ 11:47am by Ensign Vivienne Conrad
Edited on on Sat Jul 13th, 2024 @ 12:01pm
Mission:
Into the Qniverse
Location: ??
1952 words - 3.9 OF Standard Post Measure
"...one hundred percent news to...me."
There were very few things that stopped Vivienne in her tracks, particularly mid-rant and several exotic cocktails into what was supposed to be an enjoyable night of not prematurely ending her career. Official celebrations were nerve-wracking, not that she'd been invited to many, and though the Commander's birthday had promised to be about as informal as could be trusted under the circumstances, there had been a moment or ten where the young engineer had entertained the idea of feigning a sudden aversion to people. It wouldn't have been that difficult to pull off, and might actually prove accurate if current trends amongst her close associates continued.
Index finger extended, poised in a slightly forward-leaning stance that welcomed confrontation rather than discouraging it, Conrad hadn't even heard the interruption for what it was, being more inclined to translate the riot act for certain people who were very clearly struggling with basic communication. Somewhere in the background, Kane's accusations had registered, but it wasn't until the scenery very abruptly changed and Vivienne found herself pointing at the unmistakable trunk of an otherwise unremarkable tree that she realised there was more to the lapse in proceedings than some ill-timed toasts.
For a split second, her only reaction was utter annoyance.
Then, as a degree of commonsense filtered through the haze of mild intoxication, it occurred to her that summoning a forest out of thin air probably wasn't in either Fenn nor O'Connor's skillsets and thus her current situation couldn't be considered their best attempt to shut her up. A slow crane of her head to the side verified that, rather than one tree, she was surrounded on all sides by any number of them. Though the thick canopy would have cast a heavy shade at any time of day, it was very dark beyond the clearing she seemed to be standing in and the occasional twinkle of starlight through the overhead leaves made it very likely that it was well past sunset. That at least made sense, or at least matched with expectations, but it was about the only consistency Vivienne could attribute to the last 30 seconds of what had felt like a pretty normal night. She'd been looking forward to a midnight swim too, reports of aggressive jellyfish notwithstanding. That seemed an unlikely option now unless she found a particularly inviting puddle.
Very slowly, Vivienne relaxed her posture to pull upright and slowly curled her raised hand into a fist before lowering it to her side, vigilant without being too combative. Judging by the periodic rustle of leaves, there was a strong breeze blowing, and though the sky overhead was reasonably clear, it gradually dawned on Conrad that the decent range of her visibility wasn't a function of filtered moonlight but rather a far more yellow-orange glow. Puzzle as she might over its origin, it only made sense when she turned a slow circle and was confronted by the well-worn solidity of a stone wall that, only seconds earlier, had definitely been a tree. Probably been a tree.
Uneasily, she allowed her gaze to drift upwards.
It was, as far as was easy to tell from her vantage, the side of a building. A far cry from the tropical huts that dotted the shoreline of Legaria II, this building rose from the landscape unapologetically and had stood long enough to have developed a thin smattering of lichen around its base. From where she stood, Vivienne could just make out a window, far enough from the base as to be impossible to breach, though it was from the flicker of a mounted torch just before the circular wall disappeared around its corner that the light shone. The interior of the building seemed dark, or at least so dimly lit that it wasn't obvious from the outside that anyone was home.
Who the hell would live in this shit heap though?
Deciding that standing around in the bushes was a surefire way to get arrested, Vivienne cast a final glance over her shoulder towards the gloom of the forest beyond and followed the wall around in search of a door. Her appraisal may not have been particularly complimentary but the ensign had to admit that she knew very few people who lived in a house large enough that one might actually need to pack a picnic just to walk around its exterior. The undergrowth wasn't conducive to the trek in any case, tangled and unkempt in a way that she might have sympathised with had she not wound up poked in the ass by thorns more times than she had the patience for. It was testament to the potency of Legarian liquor that it took her several battles with the nettle before Viv realised the only reason she wasn't scratched up to all hell was because she'd somehow stolen someone's trousers.
And their boots. And a vest with more brocade than a grandmother's couch. Feeling just a little foolish, Vivienne also realised that the annoyance under her chin that she'd been attributing to uncooperative hair was actually the clasp of a knee-length cloak, which also explained why she'd ended up stumbling as if being tugged backwards by an invisible force. She shook the broken remains of a coiled vine from around her ankle and tried to take better stock of her appearance, turning in self-defeating circles several times before giving up. The Risian-by-marriage was no stranger to the forgetful elements of having a good time but, to the best of her recollection, she'd never escaped back to civilisation wearing the wrong clothes.
Well, except that one time, but that was different.
It wasn't time to look a gift-horse in the mouth, however, as the leather boots that sat just beneath her knee were single-handedly to thank for her lack of profuse bleeding. Trying a more pragmatic approach, Vivienne sourced a large stick and tried her luck subduing the uncompromising foliage with brute force. The first stick snapped instantly, and several more specimens performed equally as lackluster, before a more robust log at least flattened the bushes enough for her to step over. It was slow work, improved only by a muttered expletive every time she nearly dropped the block of wood on her foot, but eventually Vivienne emerged beside a much shorter wall, one she could just about peer over with the aid of her previous bludgeon. It was not part of the structure's masonry but formed the foundation for the entranceway, with its huge decrepit doors hanging at an awkward angle. Visible beyond, a row of lit torches dotted the way up a partially-crumbling staircase towards what could only be described as a castle's front door.
Clambering up and dusting her hands on the backside of her purloined pants, Conrad took several tentative steps until she was stood in the middle of the road and placed her hands on her hips. She was no historian and admittedly hadn't looked much into Legarian culture beyond their obsession with eating literally everything the sea had to offer, but she was reasonably sure their political system did not extend to Medieval Feudalism. Best guess involved holo-technology but that was almost a disappointing conclusion. The atmosphere was spot-on and she might actually have been a little spooked by the prospect of wandering inside, (since that was clearly what was expected of her), if it hadn't involved the inevitable deployment of predictable safety precautions. A putter of her lips expressed resigned dissatisfaction, mostly because it was a very long staircase and she'd just gone several rounds with the royal rose bushes, but after a moment of reluctance, Conrad squeezed through the gap in the broken gateway and stooped to pick up a stone as she made her way forward.
Just...in case.
Inside the castle wasn't much more inviting than the outside had been. Though the torches provided ample light for navigation, their existence was in direct contradiction to just about everything else. Every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust, spiderwebs ran riot and the rich stench of damp and mold gave every indication that nobody had actually lived here for a very long time. As far as castles went, it seemed unremarkable, though Vivienne felt no real desire to explore outside the radius of the torchlight, which seemed very deliberately set on a particular path. An ill-advised attempt to dislodge one of the torches for a more portable light-source was met only with a singed finger and though she couldn't imagine what kind of holo-program would be so rigid as to isolate exploration to a single path, there was an unnerving sense of nothingness if she stood and stared into the dark areas for very long. Perhaps it was the paranoia of several drinks but Conrad was left with the suspicion that if she tried to deviate, she'd actually discover nothing but a vast emptiness and possibly a few more spiderwebs.
Unimaginative. One-star.
She was just about to call quits on wandering pointless hallways when the trail of light disappeared upwards suddenly. By now, Vivienne was cold, the boots were starting to chafe and whatever buzz she'd been cultivating had definitely started to wear off. As ungracious as it would likely seem, the engineer hoped she wasn't asked her opinion on the Commander's choice of after-party entertainment because, aside from whatever had been strong enough to convince her to swap clothing with a minstrel, nothing about the experience had come close to being impressive. Okay, yes, it was a little spooky, and perhaps she had thrown fist at a few shadows along the way and threatened a table with diabolical things if it manifested a way to move any closer. Nothing had actually happened, that was the point. She could have achieved an equal amount of fear and dread challenging Fenn to a round of poker.
Fenn.
Vivienne narrowed her eyes at the darkness, glaring in misplaced accusation at the spiraling staircase she was so clearly meant to ascend.
Yes, she'd had other options for entertainment for the night, and they would have involved far less shouting at the wallpaper and a lot more shouting at idiot men.
The clomp of her boots against the stonework could not have been more ungraceful if it had tried.
At the top of the staircase, in a feat of architectural butchery that wouldn't have actually made sense outside the realms of the fantastical and ludicrous, was a small circular room. Someone, embracing the already-pervasive sense of predictability, had given up trying to be subtle about expectations and rearranged a series of lit torches into two makeshift arrows, one for either side, that stretched along the curved wall and presented, at their focal point, a four-poster bed with canopy drawn. The sheer laziness of the storytelling eroded the last of Conrad's patience and, pausing a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, she strode forward with a frustrated growl.
"Okay, this is a goddamn waste of time. It's a bed. In a castle. In a forest. What's the..."
Yanking back the curtain, half expecting a half-arsed jump-scare, Vivienne froze and stared at what might have very much resembled a whole-assed terror.
Stretched out on the bed, sporting a crowning glory of golden curls and snoring ever-so-faintly, Commodore Jacob Kane didn't even stir as his night-time caller took a step backwards, snagged a boot heel on a corner of the circular carpet, and pulled the bed's canopy clean off its fastenings.
"What the actual fuck!"
