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lesmodsalouette) wrote2025-03-16 03:54 am
lesmodsalouette) wrote2025-03-16 03:54 am
Graveyard
Graveyard
The garden is still sprawling and green – despite having entirely lost all its riotous flowers and colors, along with any sign of wildlife or birdsong – though one thing stands out more than anything else: from Monday to Thursday, you can’t see the castle anymore. All that remains where it once stood (or perhaps, usually stands) is an incongruously large tree that towers over everything else and somehow looks larger and more imposing than the castle ever did. The tree’s branches are bare, without any hint of life nor leaf – however, on the weekends (that is to say, Friday through Sunday) a faint projection of the castle appears around it, cradling the only things that the denizens of this alternate garden can see in detail from the other side: the flurry of activity around the investigation, the circus-like dimension that holds the trial, and the mirrors and the grassy dimension that display the execution.
For those curious what the land of the living are up to, a mirage-like and upside-down reflection of the castle garden in its original arrangement can be spotted occasionally overlaying the sky. This strange illusion may sometimes show those in the garden on the other side, flitting in and out of view like stray clouds; but much like the weather, their appearance is mercurial – they cannot be reached and cannot be heard.
Water, Flower, Everywhere
The fountains remain active somehow, though their features seem to have eroded, obscuring the identities of the deities and the wings of the birds, cracking pottery down into nothing but worn shards and handles. At night, only maybe half the lights work (and here they are real candlelight, rather than magical), plunging most of the garden into crepuscular darkness. The trellis walkway looks quite overgrown (mysteriously, bamboo is taking over), entirely covering some statues and other features along its length, and it’s no longer walkable – a miniature canal runs the whole length underneath the arches, feeding into other new waterways around the garden that cut off footpaths seemingly at random. There are small footbridges here and there, but the lack of logic to the whole arrangement makes falling into one of the streams or canals a real hazard.
The waterways do all manage to converge at the pond by the pavilion – neither of which are all that soothing or classical anymore. The pond is only half-full, and entirely lacks water lilies or any dragonflies; its banks sit jagged above the dark waters, and perhaps that’s why the pavilion, too, is half collapsed down into it all. Gone are the curtains and ivies; only dead curling vines and half-collapsed columns are left, but there’s still someplace to sit if you put your mind to it.
Most of the flowerbeds sit fallow or overtaken by weeds – there’s signs here and there that someone might have tried to clear them out, but the bulk of the effort seems to have gone to the orchard by the gardener’s cottage. It might be more accurate to say cottages, given that there are a few of them dotted around that area for some reason. None of them are locked, but all of them have only minimal furnishings apart from the original; they’re also all provided with the full complement of gardener’s tools. Next to them, there are new saplings and half-grown flowering trees: some pear and apple, but also some not. There are new shoots in the kitchen orchard that have just barely taken root, the dirt recently turned.
The waterways do all manage to converge at the pond by the pavilion – neither of which are all that soothing or classical anymore. The pond is only half-full, and entirely lacks water lilies or any dragonflies; its banks sit jagged above the dark waters, and perhaps that’s why the pavilion, too, is half collapsed down into it all. Gone are the curtains and ivies; only dead curling vines and half-collapsed columns are left, but there’s still someplace to sit if you put your mind to it.
Most of the flowerbeds sit fallow or overtaken by weeds – there’s signs here and there that someone might have tried to clear them out, but the bulk of the effort seems to have gone to the orchard by the gardener’s cottage. It might be more accurate to say cottages, given that there are a few of them dotted around that area for some reason. None of them are locked, but all of them have only minimal furnishings apart from the original; they’re also all provided with the full complement of gardener’s tools. Next to them, there are new saplings and half-grown flowering trees: some pear and apple, but also some not. There are new shoots in the kitchen orchard that have just barely taken root, the dirt recently turned.
Hedge Maze(?)
The other most eye-catching feature is what once was an ornamental hedge maze: instead of being a tame height here, it has seemingly grown wild and completely unchecked, towering above the rest of the garden almost like its own overgrown mountain. The hedge walls go up and up and up, making it entirely impossible to see the center or even how far it goes despite the fact that sections of the hedges have also died, reduced to the branches underneath, bristling with interlocked thorns.
Part of it had even spilled over into the garden itself, huge gnarled branches spreading out like burnt-blackened fingers all the way to the edge of the pond – wherever the branches touch, even the greenery is withered, and any statues look more ruined than those in the rest of the area. As of the end of Week 3, however, the branches have retracted entirely and the way into the hedge maze has opened even more. However, there is now a storm brewing over what might be the center or the general area of it. Getting close to the hedge maze or any of the hedge(?) branches is... unpleasant, though it doesn’t usually go beyond a buzz of wrongness and a slight headache.
Part of it had even spilled over into the garden itself, huge gnarled branches spreading out like burnt-blackened fingers all the way to the edge of the pond – wherever the branches touch, even the greenery is withered, and any statues look more ruined than those in the rest of the area. As of the end of Week 3, however, the branches have retracted entirely and the way into the hedge maze has opened even more. However, there is now a storm brewing over what might be the center or the general area of it. Getting close to the hedge maze or any of the hedge(?) branches is... unpleasant, though it doesn’t usually go beyond a buzz of wrongness and a slight headache.
hey chat it's your friendly(??) neighborhood sword spirit, AMA
[It's matter-of-fact, without the nostalgia that Siffrin put into it, but whether that's because of Yamanbagiri's flat affect or because he's pulled down his blanket hood to muffle it is anyone's guess.
Either way, he's here, tucked on a couch and back down to one layer of cloak. He has a cup of what looks like wine, holding and turning it now and again. He doesn't really sip from it for now.]
... If you think contacting the Witch Ish would be useful, then that can be a strategy. There's also... [...] Something that we could offer him. It has to do with me, and all of you, and being here in this place.
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Well, that was easy-- ]
I've been all ears since I lost my eye.
[ They will use this joke until they get tired of it, so never. ]
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You have some interesting ears.
[Deadpan. He pauses, and then goes on casually.]
Those on the other side learned some new things. It confirmed what I was already suspecting about how this place works -- it's probably connected to me. And now, to you.
That's part of why the maze works the way it does.
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A nod. Right. ]
... So we can do something here, to help him succeed there, and help ourselves too?
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You could put it that way.
[A little dry, but he continues.]
There are things we can do here that the Witch Ish can't, because this is -- in a way, my domain, and yours. What you saw in the maze...
[His hand tightens briefly on his cup, bunching up some cloak around it.]
What do you think happens when two abnormal timeflows meet?
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A whirlpool?
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That's not a bad way to picture it.
Time is like a large river. It has its own path, and its own current. If you disrupt the flow, either by forcing it to flow the wrong way, trapping the current... or by damming it into a pond too small for it... it won't be pretty.
The place I came from was an abandoned timeline. Like a stagnant pond, where all the fish go to die. Time doesn't flow.
[The corner of his lip goes up. It's not as though there's anything funny, but the expression is there anyway.]
What the Witch Ish is doing, or trying to do, is like forcing water upstream or controlling a current that isn't really his to control. The water wants to go its own way. And then the stagnant pond water is added. It overflows.
Now they're mixing together.
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sabo isn't a fan of people offering themselves up for things but, at the same time, it's not like he knows what's the deal of things going on down here. "down"??? wherever the fuck they are. ]
Something that you could offer him?
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He nods after a moment.]
I probably don't know as much about his magic as you do.
[He isn't always in the graveyard ceiling, but sometimes y'all are yapping out in the gardens.]
But usually, magic and rituals done as a group is more powerful than just an individual. That's how it works where I come from. A lot of it has to do with me, but all of you are connected, too.
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[ please stop assuming that he understands magic or can process it any better than anyone else because that is absolutely not the truth in the matter here. however, he is interested to see what will come from this. ]
So, what do you suppose we do with that connection? I don't suppose you are implying that you're going to offer yourself to him as even more tribute.
[ CAN WE HAVE NO MORE DEATHS??? ]
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[Yamanbagiri seems a little at a loss, so this may either be the blind leading the blind or the guy in sunglasses trying to lead the blind. Either or. Good luck, Sabo.]
I don't think I could offer myself even if I wanted to. I don't think I was ever part of his domain. My spiritual power was weaker, but only because I was cut off from my master and history. He either couldn't or didn't figure out how to take it.
And in a place like this, where history builds upon itself, tsukumogami can get stronger in their own way.
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....so, the magic related to memories is different entirely from what he's capable of? Is that what you're thinking?
[ i'm going to end myself if this is true, but sabo is going to nod. he got a taste of things thanks to him ""waterboarding"" himself. ]
And if you're referring to the history building upon itself, do you mean that the more we talk about our histories, the stronger things will be?
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It's how things work where I come from. In order to make a deal with him, it sounds like we'll have to trade something of equal value -- his magic for ours. If you want to call it that.
[It's not... exactly magic, or they don't use that term, but Yamanbagiri has found that sometimes explaining things needs. Wiggle room. Maybe that will help their mutual confusion.]
History, memory and stories can create and strengthen tsukumogami, and I believe that's close enough to what you all are now. You were built in the time loops, and then reforged after being moved from his domain to this one.
I think you're all strong enough now.
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[ say no that's the funniest answer ]
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[Y'all are Schrodinger's super-ghosts until further notice. Maybe Schrodinger's super-ghosts in super-graveyard.]
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[ thank you this is what he deserves. he sighs. ]
Great. As if we don't all have things to do, too.
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[But it's not a yes. Yamanbagiri isn't going to insist, though.]
Are you giving up?
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[ said with all the spite in his heart, but also. also, ]
But it's not like I can do anything like this, either.
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What is 'like this'? Aren't you different from how you were last week?
Things are changing, both in this place and on the other side.
You're not completely similar to those who just came here, but you're still here and you're awake. That means you should be able to affect this place, at the very least. Maybe more.
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Which is why I think that it has to do with me, and in turn with you.
You're here, and you can affect this place. That will be important for our negotiations.
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And... If this domain is outside of Ish's scope, are we still negotiating with him, or is there something else at play? [Sabo did make it sound like Ish would make an honest effort, but if he really isn't a healer and he really isn't in control of this dimension, well, might want to confirm.]
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[Whether it's wrong or right probably depends on your perspective, but.]
It's both.
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You're the thing that changed.
[Or at least one of them. They'd been trying to figure it out for so long, and here the answer is, sitting in front of her and wrapped in a blanket.]
Do you know what brought you here? The very same force brokering our negotiation, causing issues with the magic?
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Yes.
[Well, she only had to die to arrive at some kind of answer. Easy-peasy.]
I'm still not sure if I know what happened. Neither does he. He didn't remember bringing me at all. But you're probably right... It's possible some kind of crack in the fabric of time happened, and I ended up here.
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