Fact: girls love horses

[vivat_regina]

The first thing that hit one on entering the holodeck was the smell of fresh air, grass and trees - in short, spring. There was a light breeze in the air, though the sun was warm, and there was even the gentle sound of birdsong off in the distance. Off to the right was an inviting looking evergreen wood with spires of long, straight pines, the distinctive brown, needle-cushioned floor of a coniferous forest, and shafts of light filtering between the wide-spaced trees. Off to the left was a picturesque little stableblock, apparently standing all alone in the middle of nowhere, some horses milling around in the pasture surrounding it. Off in front were rolling hills as far as the eye could see.

Inside the stable, what Regina couldn't believe was the smell. Fresh forage, clean horses, oiled leather - it was all just as it should be, warm light filtering in through the slatted stable block windows, the sounds of the horses shuffling and nickering to one another in their stalls.

She understood illusion - all too well. But the ability to fool the senses so completely on such a scale was simply remarkable - all the moreso that it was done not with magic, but with science.

"Computer, I'd like a palfrey mare, chestnut with a white blaze, a little over fifteen hands."

"There are six varieties of palfrey available: the single-foot, the stepping pace, the tolt, the rack, the-"

"Forget it," she interrupted. "Just give me a big black Thoroughbred."

And there she was standing in front of her, a living, breathing, and yet apparently non-existent horse. She was even a little antsy, snorting and picking her feet up in her eagerness to get going. Regina was no less eager.

"Computer: flat saddle, curb bit and bridle, please."

"There are four varieties of English saddle available: close contact, dressage-"

"All-purpose, computer, give me a break here."

---

Trying something a little different for this EP. Since it seems weird to me everyone coming upon a person at a given moment, particularly when it's a time like saddling up, I've also put two TLs in comments marking other points later in the same general timeframe and location, also open to everyone. Pick whichever setting you fancy; spread things about a bit - think of it as three EPs for the price of one!

Comments

[the_iceman]

Mycroft thought about this for a moment. It truly had been years and he wasn't particularly fond of exercise of any kind. But he was here and there was very little to occupy his mind with. One might as well give it a try.

"A well-behaved horse will do," he assured her.

[vivat_regina]

Regina raised her eyebrows - obviously Mycroft had succeeded in surprising her. "Really? You... you're going to come for a ride?"

[the_iceman]

“No one is as surprised as I am,” Mycroft assured her, though truthfully, Sherlock would likely be more surprised. “But I have been on this ship for over a year and I do find myself with an abundance of time and very little to occupy it with.” Moreover, he found himself with very little to occupy his mind with. His mental capacities were trained minimally at best. But he had never quite considered occupying the physical instead.

He wouldn’t call it ‘loosening up’ as Amy had suggested, but he thought it could do no harm – as long as he didn’t overdo it, of course.

“I hope this is something one doesn’t forget. It has been twenty years,” he remarked with some amusement.

[vivat_regina]

"I'm sure it's like, what's the expression, riding a bicycle?" Regina barked a few quick instructions to the computer - for someone who had never appeared to be particularly tech-savvy she had picked up the basics of the holodeck quite quickly - and then there was a large but docile looking horse wearing a light English saddle before them. Regina began to lead her own horse back to the mounting block, presumably expecting Mycroft to do the same.

[the_iceman]

The expression might be correct, but Mycroft was currently considering a different expression; 'easier said than done'.

Twenty he was when he last mounted a horse. And somehow - though it evidentially hadn't been - it had seemed smaller at the time.

He sighed, wondered briefly why he was bothering and climbed on it. It had been over twenty years and he hadn't lived a very physically active life since. Riding a bike or not, any lunatic could see this was a bad idea, if not today then certainly tomorrow.

He managed to get on it, at least, if with some great effort (that luckily the woman didn't see as she had headed out already).

"Right. On." He commanded, and was pleased to find the horse complied.

[vivat_regina]

Regina was taking it easy, it seemed; certainly she wasn't pulling particularly far ahead on her own mount, which looked to be built for speed - perhaps this was due to the fact she'd already had a ride before Mycroft had arrived.

[the_iceman]

Mycroft did manage to reach her, and did indeed remember how to ride (well, he could hardly forget the principle, his mind wouldn't let him). And though the exercise seemed overly strenuous at the moment, he knew he couldn't just sit back. That would be more painful in the end. "I should thank you for the horse. You've managed to conjure up quite a suitable one."

[vivat_regina]

"You're very welcome," Regina replied as he drew level, glancing across at Mycroft with a polite smile. "So what were you hoping to use the deck for before you arrived and found my little programme running?"

[the_iceman]

"Something a little more sedentary," Mycroft confessed. "I thought I might try to turn this into my club back in London."

[vivat_regina]

"Ah, well. Good luck with that. You'll have the blasted computer asking you for the exact specs of the upholstery on your club chairs," Regina said with a chuckle.

[the_iceman]

That would not be a problem, of course, but Mycroft kept that to himself. "You did rather well on the landscape here," he complimented.

[vivat_regina]

"Oh, I just argued with the thing a while and managed to cobble together some pre-existing programmes. Then I convinced it to save them under a profile. It wasn't that hard, really - I've... had some experience adapting quickly to new types of technology."

[the_iceman]

"Yes, I did wonder about that," Mycroft replied idly, eyes on the horizon.

[vivat_regina]

"You just take things one logical step at a time, and when a thing appears to defy logic, you dub it 'magic', and move on - after all, magic, too, has its cardinal rules." Regina shrugged lightly, though it was barely noticeable given the light rock of seat on the horse. "The trick is not to let anything phase you."

[the_iceman]

“In my world ‘magic’ is deceit. Illusions and feats of hand, elaborate party tricks,” Mycroft explained, ignoring his already tired legs. “There is no such thing as ‘real magic’ and all its rules are bound by ordinary physics. I take it your world is quite different from mine.”

[vivat_regina]

"One of them, certainly," Regina said. "But there are always rules, even with magic."

[the_iceman]

“And here?” Mycroft asked conversationally.

[vivat_regina]

"It always comes at a price."

[the_iceman]

"Does It?" Mycroft wondered. "The price varies, I suppose."

[vivat_regina]

"No doubt."

Regina seemed to think for a moment, then added, "I suppose you're familiar with the law of conservation of energy in physics? For hundreds of years in your world - I'm assuming here - there's been an understanding that you cannot create or destroy energy within an isolated system - you can only change it. Magic, of course, by its nature defies the laws of physics - if it didn't, it would be called science instead. But that law, on a certain level, still applies. You may use magic to create something from nothing in a physical sense, but in a metaphysical sense that act still takes its toll, must be balanced out. It still leaves a mark on the magician, or on their world - all magic comes at a price. This price is just a little more... poetic... than the laws of physics."

[the_iceman]

Mycroft accepted the truth of her universe (she wasn't lying, so there was no point), though he knew with absolute certainty that magic didn't exist in his. Not in the last place because he would know about it, if it had.

Instead he was warily aware that such 'metaphysical laws' apparently applied to this ship, in whatever small form. "Poetic?" he echoed. "A mental toll, rather than a physical?"

[vivat_regina]

"Mental, physical, emotional... what I mean is that the cost of magic tends to run more into the realms of dramatic irony than anything so logical as cause and effect."

[the_iceman]

"How dreadfully annoying," Mycroft remarked, though even he was unsure if he meant the irony of magic, or the very real pain in his thighs.

[vivat_regina]

"You have no idea," Regina said, shooting him a dry smile. "But you get used to it. You just need to develop a sense for the narrative."

[the_iceman]

"That does seem the way about it. Not unlike getting used to this place, I suppose," Mycroft replied.

[vivat_regina]

"I suppose so. I've seen less pleasant prisons, though, as they go."