lesmodsalouette | 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.

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.

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I'm used to loss.

[ A whole lifetime, gone. Forgotten. The emptiness hollows them, feeling like a phantom limb. What's more.

... What's more, when G'raha is so unfair. Saying all that, twisting a knife they'd long stuck into themselves.

So.

No, plainly. They haven't let themselves consider any of that. Just as they hadn't G'raha's suffering before death, only angered by the fact it had happened -- gleeful that soon, soon, they'd really be able to wait, to be with each other forever. It's what pissed Andrew off so badly. ]

We're gonna split apart anyway. I'll be traveling. I won't... see them die, not like you and yours.

Yet you will know that they have passed. You will carry that knowledge in your heart and I know it will weigh on you.

[ That's why Siffrin is the way they are—they carry a lot of feelings in their heart, affecting them deeply whether they admit it or not. ]

I know how much love you have for them.

[ All of them, not just Isa. They've had that conversation and that little conflict has been decided upon. ]

[ It will. G'raha knows them better than they want to know themselves, and they don't respond. Only curl further against him.

One moment, two. Three heavy with a conversation still yet to finish. ]

... It is what it is. [ (What more can you do, say? The deal is struck. Signed and made true.) ] I'll never forget them, so they'll always live on. That's... all I can do, Raha. Like I keep the stars and my home at the front of my mind, so I don't forget them.

[ He shifts, tilting his head to press a kiss to their temple, his arm pressing them more tightly against him. ]

You could craft their likeness. Symbols of them to keep close to your heart.

[ As long as they accept that loss will be the way of things.

They need to. They must. ]

[ Mm. Kissy nice. Siffrin wiggles a little, tilting enough to return it on G'raha's neck. ]

I'd never forget them then. And... you could learn them, too. Since that'll be the only way.

[ G'raha will be surprised by the downgrade in muscles that's for sure. ]

[ can't believe they both downgraded in muscles for each other

A soft sigh escapes him as he momentarily closes his eyes. ]

I presume that visiting your star is off the table, in that case?

... I don't know how it'll look, to you.

[ What colors the shades might take. Or if G'raha will be forced to forget too, for the Universe to remain balanced.

(You weren't really thinking longterm with your own wish, either.) ]

But... You can, if you really want. I'd like to escort you around.

[ And

maybe meet them, but. Who can say. ]

I would like to see what you've described to me in my own eyes. Not that you are incapable of painting a detailed picture, mind, but I would like to match it to your words nevertheless.

[ Maybe he can name the colors to Siffrin. Who can say. ]

[ Guess we'll see about that. ]

For what it's worth, even in shades, Vaugarde's a beautiful country. Very forested, with few mountains in the south... Bambouche, where Bonnie's from, is in the north. Right by the sea, close to where my island was across the stretch of sea.

[ (You can see it, the mirage. Just a little. You wonder if Bonnie's sister remembers it even a little.) ]

Dormont is in the middle, and Jouvante... where Isa's from, that's in the south. Poteria's on the west, and Mwudu across a strait to the east. I haven't visited it yet, though.

[ There's a lot to see, even in a decade time. ]

Then we shall visit together. Though I daresay that is quite a lot of area to cover. Mayhap even more than Eorzea itself.

[ And he'd described the different environments within Eorzea to Siffrin, detailing their natures.

He pauses, lapsing into a contemplative sort of silence. ]

I suppose extra time would do us some good, in that case.

[ There's nothing he can do about it so... he's trying to see the positives here. Hard. ]

[ Yeah, no, Siffrin could assure him that Eorzea is bigger just looking at a map--

But the quiet is one they recognize, and so they let him have it. Waiting for the next sentence. ]

Uh huh. I've thought of a lot of good things that can come of it, [ obviously the bad being a footnote, ] and there's more than you think. You'll have time to read every book in the world, see adventures become history itself, have time to pen your own... we'll be able to see all our worlds-- our stars, [ (you like it, stars, you do,) ] and how they change, and we can pick up any hobby we want, practice each others' magics, um...

[ ... ]

Never grow old, I guess.

[ the true tragedy is that siffrin wont get to see how hot he is as an geriatric ]

[ oh so siffrin wants that old man ass????? ]

That... is true.

[ And those are positives, truly. He can't deny that, not when it sounds appealing on its very base level. Having Siffrin by his side, too, would be nice. He doesn't have to let that worry consume him either, but...

But he remembers, too, how tired he felt at the end of everything on the First. ]

We may grow tired. Not of each other or of our passions. Simply... tired. I know from my own experience how exhausting it can be to live for such a long period of time.

[ easily.

But the musing quiets them, because... it may not be a hundred years, but they're tired, too. In the loops. So, so tired -- and still they move forward, because they must. Because there is nothing to do but that.

A lifetime beyond life sounds nicer, though. Siffrin... doesn't think he'll ever tire, as long as there's something new to do. And the world always offers it. To answer, though: ]

... Guess we can kill each other at that point. All we'd need to do is break what we're connected to, I think, and that's that.

[ He would be lying if he said that that thought didn't fill him with a spot of relief. There is a way out of this, should they so choose one. ]

I believe you have the right of it.

[ The way his body relaxes slightly is noticeable to Siffrin, and it's obvious that the thought brings some comfort. To say that that part of his soul wasn't relieved to leave his body in the First would be a complete lie. ]

Would you be able to? [ A pause. ] I suppose I do not need to know the answer right this very moment. 'Tis a long way away from where we are now.

[ A relief, huh. Death wasn't ever one for them. Just another tool to use. So it's... odd feel him relax at the idea.

...

(Would you?)

Siffrin sits up a little more, resting back on G'raha's lap (the arms that hold tight are still so nice, to you,) and he lifts his hands to cup the other's face. Small squishes of the cheeks. ]

It'll be a long, long, long time from now, if ever. I promise. I won't let you tire. I won't... even let you be bored. Even if that means, for the next century or five, you'll still be figuring me out.

[ (Because

they don't know if they could.) ]

There is much and more that can be said for boredom. Allow me to have that every so often.

[ He smiles, making their hands move a little bit with the movement of his face. ]

Indeed it will be a while yet from now. That is not to say I will not enjoy adventures to be had, Siffrin. Only that we know there can be an end to this journey when we see should fit to have it.

[ And if G'raha must be the one to destroy both of their items, then so be it. He can do that. ]

Edited 2025-04-06 23:43 (UTC)

[ (... Boredom, fine. He can have that-- something about how sadness makes happiness sweeter, or whatever. You never cared for that. But there's still something that bothers you about it... besides any kind of end, maybe more what

oh

what'll cause it, maybe. Yeah. That feels right.)

Siffrin presses their palms harder against G'raha's face. Quiet, staring, as if trying to put the words in order. ]

... Raha, um. It shouldn't... be when we're tired, I think. That isn't good. When... we're content, is better.

[ Tired-- feels bad, to them. How can someone be tired of life? Tired of the same thing, over and over again, surely-- but it shouldn't... not like that, they think. They hope it comes across.

No, maybe content isn't right either? ]

I won't let you tire. [ Repeated, again. ] I want you to be satisfied instead. And then maybe I could do it. [ maybe. ] So you're smiling, not... languishing. Like a flower wilting on the vine.

[ Is such a clumsy way to put it, but. They're trying. Stars, they're trying. ]

[ He looks at Siffrin, eyes widened in a way that indicates... surprise? Like he hadn't expected satisfaction to be the answer.

When they're both satisfied... it's not unlike the Ancients of Elpis, if what the Warrior of Light said about their predecessors is completely accurate. That gives him mixed feelings in and of itself, but it's a better way to look at all of this than a long unwinding, exhausting path with no end.

Like this, it feels more bearable. He looks up at Siffrin, unable to smile with the solid press of their palms to his cheeks, but there's a definite warmth in his eyes that wasn't there just a moment ago. ]

When you word it so poetically, the path ahead sounds less treacherous and winding.

... Well. I was told that I make things soft, so.

[ So maybe that. His hands loosen their hold, running through G'raha's hair and carefully over his ears instead. ]

I just didn't like it. That's all.

[ His ears flick. Watch it, buddy! They're sensitive! ]

Your perspective is healthier than my own. I believe you know why I carry those feelings with me, so I need not explain, however... ridding myself of them will be difficult.

[ A century of waiting and preparing and leading. He won't be doing that now, not at all, but still. The thought of it all weighs heavy nevertheless. ]

Perhaps you can soften that, too. As much as I despise asking you to carry my own baggage.

It's unfair if you try and take any of mine without trading, Raha.

[ Chiding!!! But... oh, heheh. Maybe skirting over his ears again. Playfully. ]

I don't have much of a past. So lemme have the parts that still cling to you. Okay?

[ Is that fair? ]

[ Ah... it's a hard ask, and Siffrin is probably well aware of that. G'raha is good at dodging questions about himself and his past for the most part, unless he suddenly decides to divulge it for one reason or another.

It's why, even though Siffrin touches his ears again and it makes them flick and twitch involuntarily, he looks down. ]

...Alright. You may have it.

[ It's terrifying, letting someone else carry something of his. ]

Heed my warnings, however. I have much of it and it weighs heavily.

[ Funny... Maybe it isn't a good sensitive, though, and so Siffrin combs through his hair normally before dropping once again against him. ]

That's fine. I like carrying things for you, Raha. Thoughts, burdens, torches...

[ Not that the last has applied for

two weeks now but. ]

I'll take all of it, all of you, no matter what. Because I like you.

[ He tilts his head, leaning into the way Siffrin's fingers glide through his hair, and he finds himself surprised when they don't go for the ears again. ]

Even so, I fear it would burden you. You have much and more to worry about. Adding my own worries on top of it all... would it not tip all of it over?

[ It isn't that he doesn't think Siffrin can handle it. He does, but...

More than anything, he hates burdening someone else. ]

More like it'd be a welcome distraction. That's why you take on others' too, isn't it?

[ Gives him to think about something that isn't his own trouble, his own puzzles so frustrating to solve. ]

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suicidal ideation mention

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