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.

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[ Hear... feel... fish... the call is truly a mighty one. But just as he had a moment ago, Siffrin obeys the quiet request, flopping as he'd done before against G'raha. Wiggle wiggle. Comfy. ]

Neither of us can cook though, so we'll have to get someone else to do it... Ever had fish head before?

[ There's a real cat between them and it isn't G'raha.

He pulls them closer, hands automatically wrapping around their middle and resting on their back. ]

I have, once. Hard times call for partaking in food one would not normally eat.

[ He smiles a little. ]

Though I have doubts that they were prepared in the way you envision.

[ Correct, it's always going to be the one without ears.

Siffrin hums happily, nuzzling against him. Warm, solid, his. At least for now. At least here. ]

I dunno how Bonnie did it. But it was delicious, and the eyes were the best part. Someone encouraged me to try them before, but I don't remember who.

[ Which would line up, given the island nation that they're from. ]

... They're better when they aren't all that's left to eat, or all you can get. I'll ask them to make you some sometime. Bonnie loves to cook. Their sister taught them.

[ The currently frozen one... Ah, Siffrin could see Bonnie grow up, that's something. ]

[ His palm stays settled on his back, and he's tempted to drum his fingers against his spine again... maybe in a little while. ]

Some have a natural affinity for the culinary arts. 'Twould seem that Bonnie was one such individual, and their sister to boot.

[ Fuck it, he'll go head and gently drum his fingers against them anyway, thoughtfully. The way Siffrin talks about Bonnie is incredibly telling, in his opinion. His feelings on them are clear, and well... he likes to hear them. ]

I am glad they have someone like you to keep watch over them.

[ Oh, back to tiptapping... They give a soft sigh, keyed into the rhythm as if it could tell more of G'raha's thoughts than his words. ]

... It wouldn't matter if they really did hate me, I'd always protect them. That goes... for any of them, my family members. Because my feelings wouldn't change, even if theirs did.

[ (Still.

You can't tell them, now. You can't let them know how these loops have changed you, revealed you, because-- they'd hate you. It's a miracle Raha doesn't, you think. But maybe that's because he didn't know you before.) ]

[ He’s tempted to run his fingers up his spine, but for now, he’ll resist that little temptation. There are no guarantees he’ll manage to resist for much longer, though. ]

‘Tis why I say they are lucky to have you, Siffrin. Your care for them, all of them, is obvious and near unconditional. Children especially need one like that in their lives.

[ (you think you're luckier to have them.) ]

... My love only grows, you know. [ Every loop, it does.

So does resentment. Sorrow. Grief. Loss. Anger. ] I know so, so much about them, that none of them remember telling me. And I always forget that.

[ A soft, light laugh, like it's actually something funny. ]

The amount of times I've slipped up is embarrassing. But I wish I forgot, too.

So you could learn it over again when they would remember?

[ He goes ahead and presses his fingers to their spine, gently running them up along its length. ]

It must bring you pain, knowing that they will not remember sharing knowledge you have tucked away into your heart.

[ And he’d like to encourage Siffrin to speak to them of the loops, but… he knows that’s probably not the right thing to say here, in this moment. ]

Edited 2025-04-12 19:47 (UTC)

[ Oh, that's nice. Nicer still if it was bare, but-- nice, and they shiver the first run, arching slightly into it. ]

No, all of us... just like here, forgetting over and over again. Like dancers in a music box.

[ It's a terrible thing, to remember.

... It's a painful thing, just as G'raha says. ]

... And... yeah, it does. [ Like in the solarium not so long ago now, slow and reticent to speak. ] I shared stuff, too, that... none of us remember, in some cases.

[ (Lost to the world, forever and ever. Pieces of you that you can never reclaim.) ]

Once the loops end, I'll... know a creepy amount about them, and they still won't know a thing about me. I didn't-- [ a sigh. ] Really share things, on the road. And Vaugardians don't really pry even when they're curious. So why would I bring things up?

[ He pulls them closer when they arch up into it, the warmth between them a relaxing thing. Or, rather, he hopes that it’s as relaxing for Siffrin as it is for him. So, he’ll run his fingers back down their spine, slowly, almost contemplatively. ]

There would still be time to share, wouldn’t there? ‘Tis never too late for that sort of thing, and I assure you that they would be glad for it, even at journey’s end.

[ But he gets it, then, if there are things not even Siffrin recalls sharing. It’s a bit of a terrifying thought, too, one that leaves him wondering what he’s shared in the loops here that none of them remember. ]

I understand, however… that there are things you cannot claim again, as lost to the wind as they are.

[ That he can still share parts of himself after the fact doesn’t rid Siffrin of the pain of things lost. ]

[ It is, with the scent of spring and the warmth to match enveloping them. Not just from embrace, but the healed gardens, too. What keeps their voice soft and easy, at least for now. ]

... Even if it was just a week, do you think I could've charmed you every time?

[ G'raha isn't the only one thinking of their time here, it seems. ]

[ He could sleep like this, honestly, but he’d much rather keep talking to Siffrin, just like that curfew. ]

I do. You did, after all, charm me so thoroughly that I would be surprised if you hadn’t managed to time and time again.

[ This, he really means. And while he would hope the same could be said of himself, he’s content enough with his own answer. ]

I wonder if I told you the same story, or maybe... the one about some missing kids, an animal that got loose... Helping to repair a barn after a storm...

[ Plenty of stories; a traveler is made of nothing but, after all. It tickles Siffrin to no end to think of it though -- that G'raha would've been charmed time and time again, by a simple tale and-- whatever else they bring to the table.

(That his eyes would linger so, that his ears might turn at the spund of your voice...

...

Though, you doubt you would've noticed. You hadn't even known what Isa was gonna say until it clicked a dozen loops in. Maybe it's better that they kept forgetting, then. You and Raha.) ]

I usually just ran errands, though. And hunted for coin. Nothing grand.

[ He smiles, fond, as he runs his fingers down their spine again. It’s a soothing motion for him, a reminder of what they feel like underneath his fingers.

His tail haphazardly curls over Siffrin’s middle. ]

Even so, the little moments can build up to something incredible impactful. Surely you know that well by now, traveler.

[ Oh, the full clingy cat sweep. Siffrin turns their gaze to the tail with a thoughtful look, starting to get comfortable to the fingers running down their back, before nuzzling into his shoulder. Playing with that... would be dangerous, probably, as tempting as it is to pet... ]

More like something embarrassing. There was a village in Ka Bue that celebrated my birthday since I happened to be around a while after helping the local onsen. I wanted to die.

[ His tail flicks when he notices Siffrin looking at it. Touching it would... definitely be a risk, unless it's the sort of risk Siffrin wants to go for right this moment.

G'raha himself says nothing about it. ]

They were celebrating you. [ Hehe. He's amused by that, picturing Siffrin standing aside, embarrassed. ] You dislike being the center of attention, I presume, but I am sure that your presence was meaningful to them. 'Tis the reason why they celebrated you so.

[ No... this is enough for them, will always be enough for them. G'raha is the problem. If it didn't set him off, Siffrin would gladly pet and play with that fluffy tail of his. ]

... Their daughter was a traitor.

[ The reason they found out, he can guess. ]

It... was fun, I just kind of felt awkward. They even made me a sash to celebrate. But the gifts were tasty.

[ G'raha is the problem..... ]

A sash? I would have liked to see that.

[ In fact, he's getting ideas here. ]

[ A small laugh, shaking their head. No... No chance. Absolutely not. Regardless of their embarrassment though, there's a warmth that pervades the conversation. ]

It was... artistic, just like all Ka Bue clothing. [ (Isa had said that.) ] They like to layer a lot, one shade on top of the other -- thin layers when it's warm, thicker when winter rolls in -- and it's very pleasing to the eye. Silky and nice to touch, too. The sash kinda reminded me of the fallen leaves I liked to jump on and make crunch.

[ Good times... This garden was missing that. ]

If it happened in Poteria, there'd be no end to the festivities. They really like celebrating, there. For any reason. Lots of wine and song.

[ Oh. It sounds beautiful, and he wonders if he'd be able to find something like that in Eorzea. Surely it wouldn't be too terribly difficult... maybe it would be something Siffrin would like to receive as a gift.

G'raha doesn't want to get too far ahead of himself, but it's hard not to, with Siffrin so warm and pliant against him. ]

Would you join in on those celebrations? I find that I enjoy festivities like that.

Only if I wasn't the esteemed guest of honor.

[ Please. Have mercy.

(...

But you keep it in mind anyway. Festivities like that, hand pressing to hand in dance, with skirt-made flowers blossoming as those wearing them spin on the grounds below. You think he'd like the sight, all the colors and laughter that went with it.) ]

I like them, too. They're always fun to watch.

Indeed they are.

[ His hand slides off of Siffrin's back and towards one of his hands, where he gently sneaks his fingers between theirs, like he's imagining taking that hand for a dance. A different sort of dance, maybe, one that isn't as sad as it was in the Promenade. ]

More often than not, I am content to watch the celebrations unfold rather than partaking myself. Although... I have a suspicion that I would want to enjoy the festivities with you.

[ His heart flutters against G'raha's chest, thankfully hidden by the layers between, but the grin that tugs at his lips isn't quite as easy to disguise. Nor is the way Siffrin squeezes his hand gently, as if in reply. ]

Fair warning, they'll make you have a drink before they let us with out the others. Poterians believe that everything's better with a little wine and song -- the inns even offered it over coffee in the morning.

[ Which made for a. Fun time, though they still don't quite like the taste of alcohol... It's fun to drink with others, anyway. ]

I missed it when I was traveling, but there's a port city that revels in masquerades. I think it'd be fun, even if you'd be an easy find.

[ (... You shouldn't, shouldn't think so far ahead, and still you can't help it. Not when Raha, your Raha, is so close and eager to insert himself where he can.) ]

A would not say no to a drink, especially if you are by my side.

[ That little grin earns one from G'raha in return, pulling up on the corners of his lips as if the two things are connected. Well... they very well are.

He'd like to drink with Siffrin, actually, even if it might be dangerous all the same, given the number of landmines that they have to dodge between one another. Yet... he wonders if alcohol might help with that, too, and allow for full, unbridled honesty between them. ]

You accuse me of being easy to find as if you would not be easily distinguishable amongst the crowd yourself.

[ He lifts up his free hand, lightly tugging on one of the longer pieces of Siffrin's hair. ]

[ G'raha might be surprised by how outgoing Siffrin gets, actually!!! And the one in ten chance of them being a snotty mess might be interesting too.

The tug earns him a complaining whine, free hand swatting his side. ]

That's why I dyed my hair, Raha. Ka Bue doesn't have anyone like me, so I turned it lightless like theirs. It was useful going through Poteria too, but I didn't feel like redoing it...

[ So yes, they know, they stand out in the crowd... everything about them screams outsider, marks them apart, and yet

how often has Siffrin gone unnoticed regardless? A certain sort of know-how, unobtrusive and blending well with the crowd. G'raha might find him because he's looking, but one glance away... ]

... But it's fine. You're the only one I'd be looking for anyway, my Raha.

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