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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 โ despite having entirely lost all its riotous flowers and colors, along with any sign of wildlife or birdsong โ though one thing stands out more than anything else: from Monday to Thursday, you canโt 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 treeโs branches are bare, without any hint of life nor leaf โ 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 โ 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 itโs no longer walkable โ 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 โ 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 thatโs 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 thereโs still someplace to sit if you put your mind to it.
Most of the flowerbeds sit fallow or overtaken by weeds โ thereโs 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 gardenerโs 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; theyโre also all provided with the full complement of gardenerโs 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 โ 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 thatโs 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 thereโs still someplace to sit if you put your mind to it.
Most of the flowerbeds sit fallow or overtaken by weeds โ thereโs 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 gardenerโs 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; theyโre also all provided with the full complement of gardenerโs 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 โ 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 doesnโt 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 โ 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 doesnโt usually go beyond a buzz of wrongness and a slight headache.
no subject
[Troubling though it still is. A dragon she might be, it was still an overreaction to everything else on her mind. But a slighted dragon is unforgiving.]
. . . But neither of was in our right mind that night.
no subject
[She actually sounds kind of charmed by that; the mental image might be amusing, no matter the grave circumstances or the consequences that befell Tiamat as a result of her actions.]
Our emotions were being manipulated that week.
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I realize that now. Even though I didn't see it to the end, they explain a lot from that week.
having to tag this knowing what i know now about her murder...aaa
... I've wondered since that day. Did you feel alone?
[Death was the most desolate and empty thing she's ever experienced.]
๐
[She pauses, considering the breadth of emotions she'd felt in that fateful moment. In the end, what had followed her in the descent hadn't been anger or the sting of a wounded ego, but . . . ]
No. I was . . . troubled.
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Troubled? Because you were insulted?
[Her pride may have been wounded, but Tia doesn't seem the type to take that kind of insult and turn it into a spiteful chip on her shoulder.]
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[As Andrew knew, for a very brief moment.]
I'm meant to be watching over the duchy until her return. If I hadn't stepped in when I did, those ungrateful nobles who rebelled against her would've taken her seat.
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And when you died, it probably felt like you were abandoning that purpose and failing.
[She might be extrapolating a bit here, but Andrew's death... had carried with it that stomach-churning disappointment. All that she had done and all that she had worked for felt useless, even if she tried to execute her single last plan.]
no subject
[That's why it was troubling. She let down Anna, who still hasn't given up on anyone. She's let down Ragnar, too, for dragging her into the mess.]
The blame for being summoned here doesn't lie with me, but I could have won.
[And she didn't. That's where she takes responsibility.]