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Orbiting a planet, there is a moon. On that moon, there is a castle. In that castle, there is - well, a lot of things, many of which will become relevant shortly. But for the moment, let's focus on a particular cell: it's stone, with one wall in metal bars and a door hanging slightly open, and it has a wood bench big enough to lie down on in one corner. In that cell, there is - no one, for the moment.
"what if gardening were syexy" Jamie falls on the "what if farming were ominously romanticized" setting
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up-to-nothing-good
"Well I mean that's really all there is to it but okay."
And they can play for not quite an hour before noises - a bit of rustling fabric, the sound of shifting weight - start coming from the bedroom, quiet enough that they could easily be imagined. Until the whimpering starts; it's pretty clear what that is.
up-to-nothing-good
She waits a moment for Jamie to go first; when he doesn't move, she begrudgingly heads to the bedroom. At the door she pauses, gives a quiet "Lane?", but opens it when there's no response from inside.
waiting-to-be-rescued
Lane has fallen over from their spot in the corner and is now curled up on their side, half under the quilt and half on top of it. Tear-tracks run down their face and their breath comes in shudders; they are, if not particularly responding to the outside world yet, definitely alive.
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