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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
They've suspected the mirrors once before, didn't they?
[ he'll rub the back of his neck as he thinks through this in the most logical and efficient way possible. (un)fortunately, sabo (and andrew) have literally only been here for a day. ]
It's amazing how many places we can interact with but have no certainty of where it will end up on the other side or even if they'd ever see it.
no subject
Everything seems like guesswork except the main cabin, and last I checked, that was basically locked up tightly in the main castle grounds.
[Andrew gets up to refill her tea.]
I wonder if anything ever broken out there changed things in here. ["Out" and "in" are inaccurate, likely, but it's the shorthand she's adopting to not get bogged down.]
no subject
Maybe it's something that we can test. There's no reason to preserve anything in that castle; I know Ish wouldn't have any problems with it.
[ ( sabo voice ) let everyone go a little bit of apeshit. let everyone just stop being nice. ]
Perhaps when we get the opportunity to communicate with our objects.
no subject
[...
She turns to him.]
Most of what's in there isn't his. He got it from somewhere else.
[What if some of that "somewhere else"...is here?]
no subject
[ if sabo sounds dismissive about it is probably because he is. he's not a huge fan of nobles and isn't exactly empathetic towards their plight. """plight""". ]
Destroying any of it wouldn't bother him on multiple levels.
[ nor sabo. ]
no subject
[Nobles don't notice little things missing. They don't care about the undercurrents at all. She can speak frankly on that as one of them.]
He takes things from nobility, but he doesn't have to. His words were, I believe, "I can fish."
[So maybe...he can fish into this place, sooner or later. Put a pin in that though, because:]
I think we should see about causing a scene. What seems most tenuous? The hedgerow, the promenade, the rooms that always have something different in them... anything else.
no subject
There's always a few locations in the same area that change from loop to loop...
[ which is something that sabo noticed but given everything that goes on, isn't sure if it was worth stressing over. however, under these circumstances. ]
I would consider causing a scene in one of the areas that are more stable since they may have a more "solid connection". [ ... ] Though there's no reason why we can't tackle multiple locations, either.
no subject
I think we could probably do something ourselves, without relying on the living.
[ ...................... ]
Well, [ a little smugly, ] some of us can.
[ SORRY ANDREW!!!!!!!! ]
no subject
Oh? What were you thinking of?
I'm open for ideas of what can be done without having to burdening anyone unnecessarily.
no subject
I can fling myself at stuff and cut it.
[ .................................
Yeah that's it. ]
no subject
[She leans back and crosses her arms.]
Why not both?
If Siffrin and I compile a map, we'll need the information for a convincing facsimile.
Now... Is getting Ish's attention still the plan, or shall we wait for more details from our gardener here?