ℬ𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓁𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒 ℳ𝑜𝒹𝓈 (
lesmodsalouette) wrote2025-03-16 03:54 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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
The creature that looks even less human than the madman they've been fighting lets out a long, rattling noise that sounds like a sigh, though the two of them might not even hear it -- the moment it makes contact with the two of them, they'll be assailed by a very realistic vision of one of their greatest regrets.
The headache also hasn't let up, in the meantime, pulsing like the lightning in the storm and probably made worse by the flashes and noise.
(Flip a coin; you must get Heads to free yourself from this intruder.)
The man with the rope weapon takes advantage of the reprieve to recover himself slightly -- he's still in close quarters and seemingly unaffected by the new arrival (an ally?), so instead he takes advantage of the opening to slash at Sabo with the business end of his blade (16).]
no subject
That's right. She'd fallen, never to rise in her flesh again.
Her fortune ends in tails. Despite everything, there's an order to the universe that no amount of contracts over here can alter. The vivid reminders arrest her in place while her breath catches, her mind caught in the freefall of the vision against the rigidity of her spiritual body in the hedge maze, blind to Sabo's plight.]
no subject
( he can't keep torturing himself. he can't keep guessing if things would have changed if he were there. he can't—he can't. )
and while it would have been ideal that sabo try to break tia free from the regrets that plague her, sabo doesn't get that chance. he's still unsteady on his feet and his mind is still reeling shaking off the visions—it's a sad state to be in and one that's appropriately capitalized on. sabo is unable to do anything but take the full brunt of the attack ( 3 ), the blade cutting deep into his flesh. they were dead, how is this even fair???
but don't think that sabo is just going to collapse onto the ground and let his injuries dictate his actions. oh no, he'll take a moment to process the pain before lashing out at the man who had struck him by first reaching to grab for the blade with one hand and then swinging his metal pipe with the other ( 13 ). look, he didn't get to be who he is if he fell over to any ol' injury. ]
no subject
While Tiamat remains incapacitated, Sabo and the man with the rope weapon face off -- the trouble with a rope weapon is that it takes a little time to retrieve, so the man can only use the ringed handle and his own bulk to try and fend off the metal pipe. It cracks against his arm (5), makes him momentarily drop his weapon.
However, that means he has both hands free to swing his fists at his assailant in turn (17).]
no subject
Dimly, she's awareness of a scuffle between their first encounter and Sabo. Anger rises to the forefront, however, as her eyes flash bright in warning.]
You . . . !
[Sabo can handle himself. As for Tia, she winds her arm back and takes an enraged swing at the armored creature's chest (15).]
no subject
but while there's a victory to be had about being able to crack his assailant's arm with the metal pipe, it's a victory short-lived as he now gets to deal with a fist fight with them. truly he should have seen it coming but between the slash from the blade, the pain from that, and the lingering mental nonsense, he gets clocked in the face ( 6 ).
...not that it'll stop him. except that i rolled a three and i'm not officially putting it here so i guess they get to wail on sabo for a bit. GOD WILLING THE DICE sabo will absolutely tear them to bits the moment he's going to get the chance to do so. which is to say that he's gripping onto his metal pipe and waiting for his next chance to do a counter attack. ]
no subject
The creature dissipates entirely, vanishing into the darkened shadows of the maze and the clouds bowing all their contents onto their heads. Whether it's gone permanently is anyone's guess.
At least now Tiamat is free to witness Sabo's beatdown, or the beatdown on Sabo, as the man -- whose growl of fury is getting louder and louder like rolling thunder -- is seemingly completely focused on his prey and totally ignoring any other threats that may surface (13).]
no subject
The creature dissipates, leaving behind one last opposition. Tia whirls around without delay and dives for the discarded blade on the ground. Her fingers curl around the handle and, whether Sabo is struggling or gaining the upper hand at this point, she lunges forward from a crouch to drive the pointed ends into the man's flank (14).]
no subject
this universal fact now properly accepted (likely momentarily) by the dice and sabo is able to fight back against the man who had been wailing on him with shove ( 14 ) as a start to his counter to the assault. it's very likely that sabo shoves his attacker further into or at the blade that tia is currently charging at him with.
and if the guy thinks he's going to get off with just that or manages to somehow dodge tia's blade then they have another thing coming. with his new found "freedom", sabo readjusts the pipe in his hand before winding up for a heavy swing at the guy's face ( 19 ). he'll be aiming for right in the middle of it, the space between the eyes and nose.
the man attack sabo? the man cut sabo? sabo pay them back twice fold as IT IS HIS RIGHT TO. ]
cw: gore
There's a wet KSSSSHHHTTHUNK as between the rain and the force of the weapon right down the middle of the enemy's fairly wide face, his forehead splits under it, his nose crushed, and blood gushes out in impressive fanfare.
Everyone is getting bled on! Everyone is getting rained on! It's almost like we're back in Week 1 on the living side again.
Slowly, slowly, the man's struggles stop. He's not going anywhere, and won't ever again.
??? is dead.]