ℬ𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓁𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒 ℳ𝑜𝒹𝓈 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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
[ Spat when the pan comes against their knife hand (2), something cracking in its wake, and Siffrin would feel the familiar stab of pain from a broken wrist if they didn't have adrenaline coursing through their veins.
Seeing Yoru in danger, though, activates something else and he wriggles enough to free one arm to try and throw an elbow back in the awkward position. (4). That knife is staying in the man, die already oh my g ]
cw: dismemberment, also rule breaking ehe
he gains some precious time when she adds the axe to her inventory of misc murder weapons, allowing him to get back onto his feet and skip back a couple of steps. he hopes siffrin isn't watching this part because there's no way to avoid the axe's incoming swing (9), so he does what he's used to as a maga (as a monster), sacrificing his arm to protect the rest of himself.
it turns out ladders make better shields than just his forearm, oops. his hand goes flying somewhere (4) out of reach. IT'S FINE.
right now adrenaline trumps pain, and he jumps on the woman's ladder and attempts to climb it (10) but life's hard rn. ]
no subject
??? (pan) is dead.
On the other (now singular) hand, perhaps Yoru could use the help whenever Siffrin manages to defy gravity. He's able to grab the ladder and try to climb it (7) -- much to the consternation and incoherent screeching of the woman, whose hand is still pinned to it (psst, free axe?) -- but it's not a very tall ladder and thus he doesn't even reach the top of the hedge before the ladder's owner literally turns the tables.
... She flips the ladder with him on it (17), attempting to shake him off into the dirt.]
no subject
The hatchet that comes whirling through the hedges is indeed flying free. Though it may have missed its intended target, Hickey's absolutely ass-backwards luck appears to be working in the favor of his former roomies.
While the woman is busy trying to shake Yoru off of her ladder, the hatchet buries itself in her back (17) with a thunk. ]
no subject
(You have to help Yoru you have to protect him if you can't protect anyone else here you have to protect
was that a blinding hatchet)
It's enough of a surprise that Siffrin's desire to dart over ends with a bad foot placement and they go up like they hit a banana peel (1), slamming onto the muddy ground back-first.
...
Moisture: 16
(Despite your cloak, you are soaked. And muddy.) ]
no subject
but wait, he actually heard three thumps and one was really moist. what was that? ]
??? Siffrin…???
no subject
If she weren't already a madwoman she'd probably have an axe to grind with all these hatchets mucking up her already muck-filled day.
Yoru manages to immobilize her for a spell, so he has a free moment to check out the Siffrin moist muck situation on the the other side.]
no subject
...)
So he does, briefly, before pushing himself up on his b-- nevermind not that one, his good hand, and goes over to the wheelbarrow while the woman's immobilized by her life choices to take a spade and chuck the ever-loving shit out of it at her (13) at this triangulated angle, because they're actually ambidextrous so the broken wrist is literally no issue for them. ]
no subject
he drops from the ladder onto the mud and rolls onto his front, grabbing the axe as he does. if siffrin has the top half of her, yoru goes for her abdomen (20), the sharp edge of his axe mercilessly aims to make its home in her body. ]
Enough already.