ℬ𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓁𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒 ℳ𝑜𝒹𝓈 (
lesmodsalouette) wrote2025-03-16 03:54 am
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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.
suicidal ideation
[ 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. ]
suicide ideation
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. ]
suicide ideation
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.
no subject
[ 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.
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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.
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[ 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? ]
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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.
no subject
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.
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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. ]
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[ Gives him to think about something that isn't his own trouble, his own puzzles so frustrating to solve. ]
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Well... 'tis part of the reason, if we were to be uncharitable.
[ Uncharitable but kind of correct. ]
I enjoy doing everything in my power to solve problems. I imagine it is a habit of mine that has carried over from childhood, when I would read heroic tales of an adventurer swooping in to solve a dilemma before leaving without repayment.
[ haha wow that's kind of like siffrin's story. anyway ]
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That so, Raha?
[ With the start of a knowing, teasing tone. ]
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Ah.
[ He… hm. He really said that, didn't he? ]
Well, you see… um. [ His ears droop. ] I did enjoy your story.
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[ Siffrin stretches against him, like a cat, more up then down as they lean to mumble in his ear-- ]
"Your tale of your exploits, stealing back for those you traveled with, may have spelled the end for me," was it?
[ hahahahahahahaha ]
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Well... yes. You have the right of it.
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... I... think I started liking you, back when you came to check on me. That Monday... Maybe. After that, I started to look for you in the halls, and during meals... you reminded me of how the sun reflects against the sea: bright and inviting, promising relief and smooth sailing.
[ ... Danger, too. One must respect the sea, lest they drown in her embrace. ]
I wanted to see you more. Even then, I did. It was just... hard, to find excuses to.
no subject
I was under the impression that my prying was wearing on you. 'Twould seem I was entirely mistaken.
[ Yet he continued to speak to Siffrin anyway, just because that's how he is. He can't help himself when it comes to meddling and being friendly. ]
no subject
Mm. It did, but that was the first time all day I'd felt relaxed, too.
[ So it counted for something. At the very least, Siffrin'd wanted to recapture that feeling, the warmth and cool breeze they felt around him. ]
no subject
Was it? I must admit that surprises me. You seemed...
[ Hm. ]
Morose for a time. You were reluctant to share much, if anything at all.
[ Which he understands, but still. ]
To think that I would have had such an impact leaves me feeling honored.
no subject
They want to touch him, too. Idle circles at the back of his neck then. ]
... You really didn't notice?
[ The spring breeze, ever present at the very sound and sight of him after then especially. Starting then, their heart light with the promise of a game, continuing throughout... ]
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...No. Should I have?
[ He simply thought Siffrin was in a good mood? ]
no subject
[ You know. Like with Isa, and G'raha with his friend.
... Like someone who understands keeping it to friendship only, and looking on from afar. Not reaching out, out of fear or worse. ]
And then we'd part ways, however that's gonna go. Without saying a word. If it, um. Continued to grow. Like it did.
[ (You thank all the stars that apparently your type are people who don't notice that you like them!!!!!!!
Makes it sooooooooo easy to swallow every feeling down!!!!!!!!!) ]
no subject
That Siffrin is like this doesn't surprise him at all, but he finds himself amused that their behavior changed for him. Though really... G'raha's behavior changed too, didn't it? It was easier to allow himself to express his growing feelings for Siffrin, after all. ]
Yet in the Reflexion you changed your course. Did you assume it would not matter how I responded?
no subject
give them a moment. Focusing on the taps, the feel of G'raha beneath his fingertips. Warm and firm. ]
... Yeah. I was dead anyway, so I figured that even if you rejected me so badly I would've regretted saying anything at all in the first place... it'd be over soon. I wouldn't have to see you ever again. Or, at least, for a while.
[ But with his luck, G'raha might've been taken out earlier and then they'd be sitting across from each other awkwardly with Siffrin's feelings suffocating the air.
... Should be fairly obvious, from those words, that they'd never thought it'd be taken well. Or even accepted, thanked, so on. Just... rejected, pushed away, left to stew. ]
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It doesn't sit well with him, and he frowns, fingers lightly bunching up the fabric of their shirt. ]
You assumed I would reject you. Or, rather, be bothered by your confession if I did not return those feelings.
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