lesmodsalouette | 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.

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.

GY 101 Main Nav

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

My memory isn't that great, but...

[ Siffrin stretches against him, like a cat, more up then down as they lean to mumble in his ear-- ]

"Your tale of your exploits, stealing back for those you traveled with, may have spelled the end for me," was it?

[ hahahahahahahaha ]

[ Siffrin is going to kill him again. That's simply the way of it, isn't it? He has to suppress a shiver, which is already embarrassing enough. ]

Well... yes. You have the right of it.

[ Heheh. Back to lazy laying against. ]

... I... think I started liking you, back when you came to check on me. That Monday... Maybe. After that, I started to look for you in the halls, and during meals... you reminded me of how the sun reflects against the sea: bright and inviting, promising relief and smooth sailing.

[ ... Danger, too. One must respect the sea, lest they drown in her embrace. ]

I wanted to see you more. Even then, I did. It was just... hard, to find excuses to.

[ His hand settles on the small of their back, fingers lightly tapping. There's a little bit of amusement in the motion. ]

I was under the impression that my prying was wearing on you. 'Twould seem I was entirely mistaken.

[ Yet he continued to speak to Siffrin anyway, just because that's how he is. He can't help himself when it comes to meddling and being friendly. ]

[ ... Oh. That's doing something to their heart, too, it feels nice. ]

Mm. It did, but that was the first time all day I'd felt relaxed, too.

[ So it counted for something. At the very least, Siffrin'd wanted to recapture that feeling, the warmth and cool breeze they felt around him. ]

[ The little taps don't stop, becoming more an idle movement than anything else. Simply touching them feels nice. To have a veritable overload of physical touch between them only to have it ripped away the next day left him wanting. So... he'll keep touching them in whatever way he feels like. Siffrin doesn't seem to mind, at least. ]

Was it? I must admit that surprises me. You seemed...

[ Hm. ]

Morose for a time. You were reluctant to share much, if anything at all.

[ Which he understands, but still. ]

To think that I would have had such an impact leaves me feeling honored.

Edited (words) 2025-04-08 02:17 (UTC)

[ He really, really doesn't. G'raha could do anything to him right now and, like a pet with their favorite human, Siffrin would simply roll over and tolerate it. Enjoy it, even, a soft hum in their throat.

They want to touch him, too. Idle circles at the back of his neck then. ]

... You really didn't notice?

[ The spring breeze, ever present at the very sound and sight of him after then especially. Starting then, their heart light with the promise of a game, continuing throughout... ]

[ His eyes slip closed, momentarily, at those fingers on the back of his neck. Part of him wants to lean into it, to topple onto their sides so he can press closer. That would be nice, he thinks. A reprieve from the thoughts that sit like a lead weight in the back of his mind. ]

...No. Should I have?

[ He simply thought Siffrin was in a good mood? ]

No. Definitely not. I was gonna just keep all my thoughts and feelings about you to myself until this whole thing was over, Raha.

[ You know. Like with Isa, and G'raha with his friend.

... Like someone who understands keeping it to friendship only, and looking on from afar. Not reaching out, out of fear or worse. ]

And then we'd part ways, however that's gonna go. Without saying a word. If it, um. Continued to grow. Like it did.

[ (You thank all the stars that apparently your type are people who don't notice that you like them!!!!!!!

Makes it sooooooooo easy to swallow every feeling down!!!!!!!!!) ]

[ He fixes Siffrin with a little smile, fingers tapping them more rapidly now, like he's excited that Siffrin's plan didn't come to pass.

That Siffrin is like this doesn't surprise him at all, but he finds himself amused that their behavior changed for him. Though really... G'raha's behavior changed too, didn't it? It was easier to allow himself to express his growing feelings for Siffrin, after all. ]

Yet in the Reflexion you changed your course. Did you assume it would not matter how I responded?

[ ... Cute. But it's also triggering their desire to not talk, because it's embarrassing and they want to die, so just

give them a moment. Focusing on the taps, the feel of G'raha beneath his fingertips. Warm and firm. ]

... Yeah. I was dead anyway, so I figured that even if you rejected me so badly I would've regretted saying anything at all in the first place... it'd be over soon. I wouldn't have to see you ever again. Or, at least, for a while.

[ But with his luck, G'raha might've been taken out earlier and then they'd be sitting across from each other awkwardly with Siffrin's feelings suffocating the air.

... Should be fairly obvious, from those words, that they'd never thought it'd be taken well. Or even accepted, thanked, so on. Just... rejected, pushed away, left to stew. ]

[ He can hear it in Siffrin's tone, their assumption that G'raha would have gotten up and left the moment a confession left their lips.

It doesn't sit well with him, and he frowns, fingers lightly bunching up the fabric of their shirt. ]

You assumed I would reject you. Or, rather, be bothered by your confession if I did not return those feelings.

[ And he's right. It's why it had taken them so long, with prodding and encouragement, and why they'd been dismissive of the odd compliment they'd given him. Even now, enveloped by arms that care so much for him, Siffrin feels a knot of anxiety tangle around his heart.

A soft swallow. And a small nod. ]

[ His hand stills, but only for a moment. ]

Have more faith in yourself, Siffrin.

[ If he refuses to look at G'raha, he'll take his free hand and lift up his chin to fix that little problem and close the distance between them. A kiss won't express his full feelings on the matter, but it'll get him closer to it than words can, that's for certain. Why would he be repulsed? There's no reason for him to be, and he hopes that the softness he presses against their lips makes that clear. ]

[ It does, because as stiff as Siffrin had been at first (reluctant, to let themselves be turned,) they give into the kiss far more easily. Soft, soft, soft. He's always so soft with them, and it aches terribly some days.

(You don't want him to kiss anyone else like this. Never, ever, ever.) ]

I'm-- no one special, [ mumbled against his lips, heart relentless in its pounding, ] or anyone at all. I thought... that if we were just friends, you'd... resent, that I was telling you that.

[ Something unnecessary, something that didn't need to ever come to light. How content Siffrin could've been, yearing after a reflection and expecting nothing in return. So long as it didn't mess up the friendship they'd felt such comfort in. ]

[ He hums, a soft, low thing. ]

Were we merely friends, I would never resent that.

[ G'raha presses their lips together again, certainty in the motion and parting of his lips all so he can steal their breath before pulling back a few centimeters to continue. ]

In fact, I would have resented that you kept your feelings to yourself out of fear. 'Twould mean I had given you the wrong impression of me.

[ ... Is that so...? That even if they were only friends (the implication lost on you) he wouldn't... have stood and left, whether at that moment or after a few awkward minutes' time. ]

Then--

[ A soft sigh, relaxing more into the kisses, returning them as if they have all the time in the world, no hurry, not like in the promenade. Leisurely, even. A stretch in the sunlight that is "his Raha". Different than before, but no less wanting to be with him. ]

Then... how would you have responded? If you hadn't been curious. [ A quiet laugh against him. ] Your staring made me nervous.

[ It would be easy to get lost in the press of Siffrin's lips, to focus on their breath mingling with his own. But as it is, his pulse remains steady, finding comfort in warm, lingering presses. Time they didn't have but have more than enough of now, as it were. ]

I would have thanked you for your sincerity and feelings towards me. I would have divulged that I was flattered.

[ He presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ]

But I would not have kissed you, much less let my eyes linger on you for so long.

[ (Oh.) ]

... Okay.

[ It's impossible to hide his face right now, so G'raha gets the full dopey lovelorn look. ]

Even the alternative doesn't sound so bad. But I'm glad your eyes did, and that you did. Kiss me.

[ Part of the sentence, or a softspoken command? Who can say. ]

[ The hand on Siffrin's back slides to settle on his waist, the feeling of it underneath his palm a familiar thing. Strange that it is, given he only held it on one occasion several weeks ago.

That look on their face is one he can't resist, his ears twitching slightly at the sight, and he smiles. ]

Is that a command?

[ He hopes so, but he wants to hear Siffrin say it. Maybe this is his form of bullying. ]

[ Siffrin exhales, trying. So very hard. To keep in check, for G'raha's sake. Because he asked, and they should be mindful...

... But what a bully. If it wasn't before-- ]

Uh huh. Kiss me.

[ It is now, more certain. ]

[ There it is, that certainty he likes. It makes the amusement in G'raha's eyes practically shine. ]

Then who am I to say no to such a request?

[ Yes, they must keep themselves in check. Yes, they must not get carried away. Yes, they need to be mindful.

But. How can he resist the pull of Siffrin's lips against his own? He can't, or at least he can't right now, as he leans in again to close the distance between them. As much as he would like for this kiss to be sugary sweet, G'raha allows a longing to leak into its edges and slip through the cracks, a longing he had to sit with for weeks.

It's hard, not letting his feelings get the best of him. ]

[ No more than Siffrin can resist responding in kind, meeting him part way; there it is, the longing they hoped for, the same pangs that've been tormenting them every glimpse the garden could offer. With one crack comes many, and they lift one hand to press against the cottage wall as they begin to slowly... trap... G'raha where he's at, a little more demanding in their kisses.

I missed you, they say. I couldn't stop thinking about you, from another. I'm glad you're here.

Awful, terrible, horrible as it is. They are, because then they get this, and-- they get this forever.

(As long as you're good. As long as he finds you incomplete, a puzzle waiting to be solved. As long as you keep kicking pieces under the sofa for him to never find.) ]

Edited 2025-04-08 06:16 (UTC)

[ They’re both doing an abysmal job at keeping in check. He knows it, Siffrin knows it. But it doesn’t seem like they particularly care either, not with the way they practically trap him against the wall, closing in around him and becoming more demanding by the second.

What is he to do, other than respond to that demand? What can he do, other than angle himself just enough to deepen their kiss and provide exactly what it is they’re looking for? He shouldn’t breathe in the silent words left against his lips like he is right this moment, but he can’t help himself. All he can do is drink in the words and thoughts that had been left unsaid for nearly two weeks.

It’s how his hands find their way to his hips, too, gripping tight. They’ll need to stop soon. But. Just a little longer. ]

[ Just a little longer, to see if that ache can be soothed.

Maybe it can't be, not when the hands against his hips are familiar and yet scarcely felt in memory, breath stuttering and cheeks warming immediately. Siffrin breaks to kiss the corner of his mouth, his cheek, drops to his jaw -- anywhere and everywhere he can reach, claiming skin the way G'raha had weeks before.

Maybe if he's lucky, the marks'll fade in a few hours time. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject