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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: Tuesday
That said, they'll also encounter this morning somebody new(?!) shuffling into the warmest room in the gardener's cottage, the downstairs combination living space next to the fireplace. He's wearing a wrinkled suit and pants with holes in them, as well as a dirty and hole-ridden cloak. Well, it's more like a bedsheet, but shhh.
There is, however, a familiar sword at his hip. Despite looking like a hobo, he matches its colors.
The newcomer(?????) clears his throat and gestures for the people and not-so-people to assemble.]
... I should reintroduce myself, I suppose. I'm Yamanbagiri Kunihiro -- a tsukumogami manifested from the duplicate sword forged by Kunihiro of the famous Yamanbagiri. You can think of it as something like... an object that has grown a spirit.
I was cut off from where I came from, and my master, so it was hard to fully manifest until now. I think the spiritual energy of this place, and the fact that more of you are here, played a role in allowing me to return to this form.
So... now that my spiritual energy is back up, I noticed something. You're all a little bit like me. You feel like the swords in my formation, but not exactly the same. That means that like me, you could have a connection to something in the other world. The castle you came from. An object. A belonging. A tool or utensil.
I think that you should all try to reach out to the other side. See if you can connect to yourself there. And make yourself memorable.
[OOC: Hello hello! Welcome to your Graveyard Communication 101! This is basically an IC introduction for your characters to be able to contact the other side, using the objects that I've requested each of you to choose for your character, and that have been dropped on the weekly logs on the living side. Please remember to submit your words before Tuesday, March 25, 8 PM EST/5 PM EST to have them sent to the living!
Graveyard spectators can participate as well, as detailed in the discord.]
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Oh, like Expressions. Siffrin understands now; he nods to Yamanbagiri as a renewed greeting. ]
Ka Bue has something similar. Odile told me about it once... There's Expressions for everything, in everything, so they're all "alive". It's nice to meet you again, Yaman.
[ sorry your name ]
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You too can beat the Beldum-Maiden evil alliance.]Expression... Where I come from, it's because they hold memories and stories.
[He mumbles Yaman to himself; as a person, the sword is relatively more expressive, but not by much. So far. He just seems baffled.]
You too, Siffrin.
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(You can't remember what Odile said about them exactly, now. They're concepts, the rocks and the trees, things people make and everything else. Maybe it's a matter of memories. Of stories. That would make sense, to you.
And you like it, too.) ]
Do you think... that if more appear here, your energy'll be stronger too?
[ Maybe some things will change, the more memories and stories that come by. Siffrin's got more in one area than the other. ]
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[They're all spirits now, after all.]
We're similar, but different.
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Your chest aches, and your hands feel cold. Empty.) ]
Should we practice lifting something on the other side? Like ghosts.
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Like you said, it's not that different from regular ghosts.
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Okay. I'll practice hard to make whatever I want move -- not just...
[ ...
What would... move there... Maybe one of the carving knives, or something in the observatory... The flowers in the solarium. ]
Whatever will. The more we can do, the more we can help protect the others.
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Make sure you're not getting the wrong kind of attention. The Witch Ish doesn't see me as a threat, but I don't know what he'll think if he notices too many of you.
[It's kind of a vague warning, but at least objects are naturally sneaky...?]
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That sounds knife.
Haha.)
A nod!!! Warning received. ]
I don't think he would be surprised to know I'm still around somehow. Being a nuisance to jerks is what I do best.
[ Being a timelooper and all. ]
... But I won't cause trouble for you, Yaman. Until you want to be seen as a threat by him.
no subject
[That probably wasn't intentional but it happened now. Anyway.]
It doesn't... matter that much what he thinks of me. You're the ones more likely to catch his eye. And if you work anything like me and the tsukumogami I know, the condition of what you're connected to can reflect on your current state.
Just be careful.
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Good. ]
Okay. I will be. [ ... ] I just hope whoever uses it takes care, too.
[ Sure, one in a million knives there, but still. ]
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Will the Witch stand by and let us establish an communication?
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Yamanbagiri seems to think for a moment, his eyes sliding to the big tree, or somewhere else. After another moment or two:]
The Witch is busy today. I'll keep an eye on him.
no subject
She glances at the big tree.]
You can see him?
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"Future Ice Spirit Lord." Right. You'll pick it up quickly.
... This must be a pretty comfortable environment for you.
[........ a snow flurry blows by a window.]
no subject
You're not wrong. It's how the weather usually is around me.
no subject
[That said, it's drafty. He wraps his blanket tighter around himself; it's a mystery how the sword was handling the weather, but the tsukumogami seems a fan of the creature comforts.]
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[She'd know, too—feel the power pulsing around her, unrestrained.]
Is the lack of spiritual energy why it's been cool?
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[... He grabs a pillow too. Slowly, he will become max cozy to shield himself from Tia's coolness.]
I don't think it's the lack of spiritual energy. It might be the opposite...
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We'd be in the middle of a blizzard, and you wouldn't be able to leave the cottage.