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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.
no subject
(Focus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Idiot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) ]
Oh, um. Chara actually had a thought about that. They shared it with me while I was waiting to die.
[ Very fun parade of people and they are so quickly moving on with conversation so Shiv does not wonder why their cheeks are so red. ]
They think that it's like an hourglass. There's no point in killing us off for good, if The Witch needs us for something, since it's a waste of emotions. There's also no point in resetting our memories every week for the same reason. We wouldn't feel a lot towards each other, then.
[ They raise their hands palm up like scales, moving them up and down appropriately as they talk. ]
When one side starts to empty, he just switches it back and starts again. [ ... ] Our memories might be wiped then, if any time. But that's the train of thought they had.
no subject
She nods.] Yeah, they did talk about the people who died being somewhere else. Kid must've been onto something.
Did Ish ever go on any tangents about his "Goddess" to you? He got pissy at me when I said she's not gonna fuck him, so I'm guessing she's the reason for the shitshow.
no subject
That's because she's his mother.
no subject
[There are a million far more terrible things to say about this particular development that pop into Shiv's head. However, Roman isn't here to say the worst possible thing before she can, so it's not the same. She's not in the company of her brother, but of decent human beings.]
He's gonna get disappointed if that's the case. Or if we go with G'raha's sacrifice theory, she could be dead.
no subject
[ Well.
Siffrin will look at one of the cottages. ]
Wanna go inside? I think you've spent enough time in the snow.
[ They can talk there. Siffrin seems perfectly okay with being in the cold, thanks to their cloak, but. Well. Shivvy. ]
no subject
[She doesn’t feel the cold quite yet, but for all intents and purposes, she doesn’t want to look at a replica of the snowy garden that she just experienced trauma in. Dying is trauma, right? Surely.]
Think we could get hot tea or something? Might as well check the perks of being on the dead person side of the time bubble.
no subject
Tea would be nice. Something fruity would be my pick... maybe we can have sweets with it, too. Shortbread's a perfect pair.
[ These cottages are so simple on the inside.
Dormont was quaint, but not like this. As long as there's chairs it's fine though, Siffrin'll pop onto one and kick their feet. ]
I did wanna tell you something. Since you didn't get to see. Being dead, and all.
no subject
Hah. Very quaint and English. It’s like I’m a little kid again. …is there a Britain where you are even?
[Shiv looks through the cabinets for some kind of tea and cookie, when Siffrin says that.]
What? I mean, you’re here instead of Sir Dick, so sounds like the trial was kind of a shitshow.
no subject
[ Could be across the sea. Like Ka Bue.
And a nod at that, though...
... Siffrin'll smile happily. ]
I stabbed The Witch.
no subject
[Shiv hears that bit of information, and gives the first genuine smile she’s had since getting here.]
Fuck yeah. What’d you aim for? There’s a lot of bad places to stab a guy. I probably don’t have to tell you which one I’d go for.
no subject
The people in Ka Bue like tea, too. But Odile doesn't seem obsessed with anything but her research.
[ Their hand falls, foot hooking around another chair to pull it closer. That'll be hers! ]
... I was aiming to kill him. That should've done it, but I don't know what happened after that. He tore my heart out.