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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.
Week 2: Wednesday (Graveyard Task)
It's hard for Yamanbagiri to keep an eye on everything, whether human or otherwise, but he can hear the monsoon happening outside just fine. It's apparently rather pressing, so at some point when the new arrivals are gathered he raps his sheath against the nearest surface to get everyone's attention (and maybe the shades, too).]
... This is no ordinary rain. The weather here depends on the stability of the timeflow and the space... I thought that having more spirits here would help stabilize everything, but we may need something more.
I currently can't deal with the garden, so could you save it from the rain in my place? There should be tarps in some of the cottages that you can use to stave off the rain, and the younger trees are potted. They can be brought indoors. We just need to make sure most of the garden survives. It's also connected to the spiritual stability here.
[A pause.]
I'm not sure how much energy those of you who don't have spiritual bodies can lend, but I'd be grateful if you could help out, too.
[OOC: Welcome to your first graveyard task! Mission: Save The Garden From Being Flooded Out is now afoot! To pass this task, all you need to do is thread on the given task by Sunday. No comment requirements or anything, just have fun trying to stay dry. ☆ You can also ask Yamanbagiri if you think you might need anything else to help with gardening, etc.
Spectator NPCs will find that they can help the plants stay alive by talking or singing to them (or yelling at them, if you really want), or having a conversation about them! Feel free to mingle.]
QUESTIONS/REQUESTS
no subject
doctors need herbs, herbs can be grown, and what are herbs but plants? so he nods and darts out, asking nothing else and walking straightforwardly to the tarps.
anyone is free to stop him and give a few pointers, steer him in the right direction if he's going in the wrong one, or just question if he really understands the prompt (valid)—basically, he's around! and he's gonna try working on this. ]
no subject
Do you have something to secure it with?
no subject
only there's one sword and a tarp has multiple corners so, actually. that won't work? after a bit: ]
Rocks.
no subject
Where? [She glances aside.] Did you gather them already?
no subject
And while she may not be able to directly interact with anything for whatever reason, Nano is aware that (as unscientific as it sounds) talking to plants can indeed affect their well-being. So if you pass by the garden at any point, you might notice a tall silver-haired girl reflected in the nearest watering can, gazing at the flowers and repeating in what seems to be all seriousness: ]
I love you. I love you. I love you.
[ The plants are motivated. She is performing her duty. ]
no subject
I'm going to cover them and bring in those trees next. Why don't you wait inside the cottage?