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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.
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The walls are so tall that they can no longer see the big tree from here, either.
The hedges, however, are still luxuriant with foliage -- a large thorn only pokes through here and there, the different patterns marking their passage.
They'll pass the fountain basin that was fixed last time, gently burbling water like it was never a crazy illusion geyser (if they ever peeked into the hedge maze during the last week, they would have seen it there within the explorable bits). And eventually they'll come across more basins -- these are frozen solid, the ice somehow black.]
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Siffrin touches the water as they pass, idly, until the basins are reached. Lightless as can be.
(...)
Siffrin's gonna lick one. ]
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Oh no.
Okay. Just like ■■■ taught you.)
Very carefully going to use their body warmth from gloves to unstick their tongue. Please. ]
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Close up, he can see that there are some outlines of frozen leaves.
The ice tastes mostly like ice, but also oddly like mud, even though mud isn't what's causing the darkness. Probably. Would they like to try anything else on the basins? It doesn't look like they'll get much further in the hedge maze itself -- this is the end of the line, as bristling thorns and foliage create a seeming dead end.
They're stuck with the basins and whatever they contain for now.]
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Fine, no licking. ]
It's muddy.
[ Just. So Shiv knows.
Siffrin will use their one eyeball to try and discern if there's anything weird about the leaves. Are they crackly looking, or fresh. ]
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The leaves are, as far as the dark frozen water lets him see, extremely dead; it's not surprising, considering that dead leaves and the dead of winter has been their companion for the past week straight. Except for the plants taking refuge inside, everything has been hunkered down and frozen over.
But looking so closely, they might be able to spot a place on the side of the basin where the ice is already a little cracked. A little separated from the side of the stone.]
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Easy. Siffrin'll try and tip the basin so they can kick the back and see what happens. Maybe they won't drink what comes out. ]
1/3
The basin itself can't be moved, but it can be hit with percussive force. The ice cracks a bit more, part of it wobbles -- and then dark, dark water starts streaming out the side, pouring over the rest of the ice just a little too fast to be natural. It begins to spread out into little droplets and puddles and streams, just as unnaturally. It streams out of the basin itself (was there this much water in there?) and climbs nearby basins, flowing onto the ice there.
The muddy(?) water begins to form words across the ice in each basin that congeal and solidify with frightening speed, even as images float into being in the icy expanse beneath, slightly obscured by leaves and debris.]
2/3
HEIGHT: 5'9 (175 cm)
WEIGHT: 150 lb (68 kg)
LIKES: running, hugs
DISLIKES: being singled out, hot sauce, Iris using his powers
SKILLS: running, teleporting, respecting authority, disrespecting everyone else
FUN FACT: The only Daphne demiflora in his age range in the Seattle Tower.
HEIGHT: 5'9" (176cm)
WEIGHT: 125 lb (57kg)
LIKES: Efficiency, facts, Aijou Rentarou, the other girlfriends
DISLIKES: Inefficiency, pointlessness, heights
SKILLS: Problem-solving, multidisciplinary knowledge, melee and ranged combat
FUN FACT: When stressed, Nano recites the digits of pi to calm down.
HEIGHT: (allegedly) 166cm (5'5")
WEIGHT: (allegedly) 120 lb (54 kg)
LIKES: music, Tin Pin Slammer, computer games, poetry and literature, mythology, shio ramen, lolita fashion, boys who get annoyed easily
DISLIKES: minestrone, ice cream, being worshipped blindly
SKILLS:Being alone, telekinesis, clairvoyance, levitation, light beams, being annoying
FUN FACT: Once upon a time, he could see ghosts.
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[ You know. In case anyone was wondering. ]
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[ What's multidisciplinary knowledge...
(...
No. You don't want to ask.) ]
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[ it just means she knows a bunch of different things ok!! ]
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[ GET HIS PERSONAL INFORMATION OUTTA HERE THIS IS RUDE ACTUALLY. ]
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[ was that helpful ]
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2.5/3 new basin everyone
HEIGHT: 5'11''
WEIGHT: 174 lbs
LIKES: Chatting, listening to the "Sounds"
DISLIKES: Silence, explaining things to people
SKILLS:Manipulating sound
FUN FACT: His favorite "sound" is the dying cries of his parents. Who murdered them? Lobelia did!
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3/3
Instead, one more basin remains -- this one is still frozen, and not contaminated by the dark water. The water in this basin seems to be clear, with no leaves and no debris. You can see clear all the way down to the bottom.
This one may need a different strategy. Or the same strategy. We're not the boss of you.]
Re: 3/3
[She stares into the clear basin, and places a finger on the ice. Hmm. Writing her own name might be a bit risky in case this thing is cursed, so she writes with her finger:
My name is Kendall Roy.]
1/2
New images well up across the stilled water. This time, there's also sound. The scene will play from now on whenever someone touches the ice.]
2/2 EVENT END
This time, what’s different is that the town is no longer frozen and silent but roaring with screams and shouts, the sound of clashing blades, plumes of smoke; the sword-carrying group are sliced up and bloody to varying degrees. There are blooms of red amidst the usual dirt on Yamanbagiri’s cloak. They all look exhausted. However, they continue to move as one.
Everything looks as though viewed through murky water, rippling and dark.
The sword warriors run desperately through the dark – they encounter people who are running like puppets with jerky strings, howling like beasts and waving any kind of implement that could be a weapon. Even through the images you can feel the bloodlust from the crowd. The warriors strike – they slash through the people, stabbing, maiming, throwing them aside like ragdolls. There are hesitations; there are mistakes.]
”The humans–!!”
“You’re better off no longer seeing them as human!”
“The humans have been cut off from the flow of time… The world has been cut off…!”
“Do they all become like that?!”
“I don’t know!”
[They run; they cut; they kill; they run.
At last, with a ripple in the water’s image they arrive at what looks like a gate. Mist and light billow from it endlessly. Much like the warriors, it looks out of place in this town, in this time.
The gate is closing inch by inch, slow and inexorable like the door to a prison.]
”This is…!
“It’s the entrance to this timeflow.”
[Desperately, Yamanbagiri and the warriors rush at the gate – they grab at it, trying to keep it open, trying to reach their escape from wherever this is. But once again, the terrible facsimiles of people(?) from before swarm in to attack; more and more blood is spilt on both sides. Meanwhile, the gateway grows ever narrower. Warriors in darker clothes with red eyes appear and push the group back even further; somewhere in the confusion they join the side of the sword warriors.
There’s a breakthrough after that sudden alliance: the sword warriors and the dark warriors begin making it through the gate, one by one.
Yamanbagiri is one of the last ones on this side, clinging to the gate with a red-haired companion in flashy red and black armor. They laugh together.]
“Looks like we’ll be able to make it back, somehow.”
“Yeah– Ookanehira!!”
[In that moment, more of the endless swarm from town rush in – Yamanbagiri rushes out front, blocks a few, takes a few blades to the side. His companion screams, but doesn’t let go of the gate, somehow.]
”Yamanbagiri! Hey, are you all right?! Yamanbagiri…?”
[Yamanbagiri turns to face the redhead. Ookanehira. There’s something dawning in the other man’s eyes.]
“I won’t… let anyone through!”
“Hey, Yamanbagiri. What are you trying to do?!”
“Go!”
“Yamanbagiri…!!”
[The crowd surges forward – Yamanbagiri surges forward faster, even with more blades running him through moment to moment, and shoves Ookanehira through the gate. It slams closed, plunging the world into darkness. There’s one last yell from Yamanbagiri before it closes completely:]
“Go and become a fine captain!”
[Left in the dark, like a raging tide, like thunderclouds, the crowd overwhelms the figure in the white cloak and buries him underneath their weapons and shouts.]
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[ Cheerful! ]
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