2023-02-11: LENTICULAR
- Log: 2023-02-11: LENTICULAR
- Cast: Shelby Korts
- Where: Valencia, Spain
- Date: U.C. 0097 02 11
- Summary: Forward, or backward: Who you see depends on how you look at her. All either of them want is to go home.
The only thing Shelby Korts can hear is her own breath.
Standing in the massive lounge room that smelled of wood and tradition and time, a single window among many was cracked open, allowing a warm breeze inside. On the table, a collection of books-- also, some classwork. The massive television on the wall was turned off, and the smell of wildflowers trickled in on the breeze. Quietly, cautiously, Shelby approached the table, softly pushing paper aside to look at the messy drawing of two girls with violently red hair. The names were written in meticulously practiced script.
this is not your home
Her eyes stung.
The floor started to crack underfoot as she heard laughter from outside; broken fragments of a summer sky misaligned and fit together in jagged lines.
One girl, running through the yard with the long ribbon tying back the bulk of her hair rippling behind her. The other, sitting in a patio chair with a rather uninteresting tome of a book on her thighs, heels drawn up onto the edge of the seat. As the butler delivered a tray of tea and snacks, she opened her mouth to call to the younger girl.
As the butler delivered a tray of tea and snacks, she opened her mouth to call to her.
opened her mouth to call
As the opened mouth
called
her name
Th̿ͮiͯs ͖̓̇ỉ͐ͯsͩ̾͆ ẇ̐h̓̈́ͨe̾ͦͩre ͨ͐ͤwͫͨ̏e ̼͛w̅e͑̃̊r̖̾e ́͗͑hͭ̈ͧapͬͫ̔p̌̎̄y̾̅̽.
She started turning around to face the child--
Shelby awoke with a sudden, violent start. Her eyes were still wet and red, and the blanket that Leina had wrapped her in was still pulled around her. Music continued to play in the wireless buds tucked into her ears, just loud enough that it could drown out the noise. The taskbar showed,
3:20AM. [ Todd Rides the Xaku -- RED EYE ROTF(LIVE--0076 @ P...) ]
Shifting in the chair, she stared at the search box sitting open on her laptop, the screen's glare the only thing casting light on her tired face. The music pounded in her ears, keeping thoughts and dreams from others baffled behind noise in the real world.
>sophia mayhew castellan
She tried at least three other times, finger stopping short over the button. The card Leina was propped up in the edges of the top row of keys, the number a personal contact line.
Finally, she pressed Enter.
News clippings. Photographs. The Castellans, steeped in weapons manufacturing and shipping. Scandal, recent news clippings featuring the Britannian commander issuing her declaration of war against all those that would do evil works like the Institute's.
She saw that woman's face in her dreams. She's sure of it.
Shelby Castellan. It had a strange taste in her mouth.
Her hands shifted; fingers weaving together and lips pressed to her hands, thumbs under her chin. She had to make a decision. She couldn't wait forever. She didn't want to leave it to Leina, either. Shelby slipped out from under the blanket, leaving it draped over the back of the chair as she walked over to her backpack, unzipping one of the larger sections and digging through clothes until she found some equipment stuffed in the bottom. Stuffing it all into her satchel, with her laptop, she found her coat and headed for the front door.
It took time to find a connection open enough to access, as well as activate the extra equipment plugged into her laptop. The scrambler lit up, masking caller IDs and caller locations. The code was punched in.
4:00AM. [SCRAMCOM ver8.9.0] [SkyCall - (ks3300)]
Initializing scrambler... Establishing connection... handshaking. Calling out ... connected.
Shelby took a deep, hesitant breath. Her voice, unmasked, finally spoke:
"Orbital Ring, Shopping District J412. I'll be there in two days. 0900 local. Come alone."
It was done: Message sent. The laptop was disconnected, scramblers unhooked, lid closed, and bag packed back up. She could make the hike back to Sayla's in short order, gather her things, and start arranging travel.
Shelby's eyes closed. She could feel red behind her.
When they opened, the ground was a void: Jet black nothingness, with every movement across an impossible surface cracking short-lived gold across the ground. The child was behind her again, face a mass of glitching memories and fragments and light and dreams, but tears streamed down her face. Between them stood a massive oak doorframe that looked almost like it was smashed to pieces and fit back together again-- just slightly wrong. The space between them open, but felt like an insurmountable gulf. She was angry.
Iͯtͨ̆́'̱̠ͯ̚s ̠͖no͇ͨt ͉̰̘̆͊̌fair͕̃.̱͕̄̚
Shelby slowly turned, now facing Valencia. "I know," she whispered, and started to hike back up the coastal roads.