ℬ𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓁𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒 ℳ𝑜𝒹𝓈 (
lesmodsalouette) wrote2025-03-16 03:54 am
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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.
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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. ]
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Except.
Well. He probably shouldn’t be making their job easier. ]
We… should keep our surroundings in mind.
[ He doesn’t want to, but… ]
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[ Half-listening, it seems, though the kissing eases to just a nuzzle pressed to his neck instead.
They know, they know. But this feels like a reward for all Siffrin'd dealt with the past few days especially... ]
Afraid of heights?
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No. I’ve never feared heights.
[ He tilts his head, and if Siffrin wasn’t buried in his neck, he’d fix them with a curious look. ]
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Good. 'Cause... I was thinking we could climb the tree.
[ And...
...
Kiss up there? Hang out? Just be away from everyone else for a while? Alone as it can manage to be. Siffrin likes to climb trees, too. It's easy. ]
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A tree, you say?
[ Hmm. Well, it might be nice to look down upon the garden in addition to the extra privacy. ]
Leaf the way, Siffrin, and I shall follow. Though it has been decades since I have attempted to climb a tree.
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Up! They Go!
...
And then holding out their hands to help G'raha. ]
It's a pretty tree-mendous one, so we'll have fun getting up there. Maybe work off some of that energy of yours.
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G’raha pauses, still holding onto his hands. ]
…My energy?
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[ As if Siffrin's any better. Not letting go even now, leading him to the cherry blossom tree where the castle normally sits. ]
The climb might tire you out better than I could.
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You initiated it!
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[ Nevermind the need for a "fee" being the root. This is as bad as boldly eating stolen food, truly. ]
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You requested it, however. I daresay that counts.
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You could've denied me.
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[ When he gets close, G’raha quickly leaps up onto the tree, easily finding his footing. It’s been a long time, but he used to climb trees as a kid constantly.
And sometimes as an adult, but that’s neither here nor there. ]
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[ But it's true anyway, and Siffrin works his way up after. Just fast enough to be near-gained, but not quite. He's more used to ambush hunting, but... a chase is fun too. Even if the prey doesn't know it. ]
The right answer is that I'm impossible to deny.
[ Something he'll never live down, apparently!!! ]
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You...
[ Give him a second. Breathe in, breathe out. ]
Will never let me forget that, will you?
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And bye, as they exceed him momentarily to rest on the branch he's holding onto. ]
Do you want me to?
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You will do as you please.
[ So... it's up to Siffrin, which is probably the worst answer to give him. With a little bit of maneuvering, G'raha launches himself up onto that same branch too, figuring it's sturdy enough for the both of them to rest on, even if only for a moment.
He swings his legs. ]
As a child, I would climb trees, pretending as if I was some sort of hero lying in wait to take down a villain. The girls my age did not take kindly to when I would swing down to "save" them.
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You were a rascal. [ Just not the sneaking into places he didn't belong rascal. ] What'd you "save" them from? Bugs?
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Imaginary threats.
[ Yeah, he’s basically admitting to LARPing and Siffrin will use this as fuel for their teasing, but he doesn’t mind. ]
I was… known for getting caught up in my heroic fantasies.
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... Feel free to drop from the sky anytime with me, hero. I'll play with you. [ Siffrin can LARP too. ] Unless you think you're too old now.
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Somehow, that offer is more embarrassing than anything he’s heard from him. ]
You… Well. Of course I am far too old for that now. [ His fingers grip at the bark of the tree trunk. ] The role of a damsel in distress does not suit you anyway.
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No? I look pretty good in a dress, though.
[ (You have been missing them, lately...) ]
And I've seen enough plays to know the part. [ A softer sigh, hand going to their chest playfully. ] "Oh, my beloved knight, how I await for thee atop this lonesome tower, this heart of mine aching in its yearning to see thy visage amongst the briar cast far below..."
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A part most unsuited to you nevertheless. You are more akin to the rogue, sneaking into the tower for adventure and finding the princess lying in wait, where you make the decision to save her anyway.
[ Though a dress can still apply here, and he’d like to see it.
And if any of that overlaps with Shrek, no it doesn’t. ]
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Siffrin'll go up another level, swinging down on their legs to be more in his face. Cute... A shade darker, if only slight. ]
And if I'd like to be one anyway? The princess can be aching for a reason to get out, you know.
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