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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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. ]
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[ 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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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... 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.
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A sash? I would have liked to see that.
[ In fact, he's getting ideas here. ]
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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.
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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.
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[ 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.
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[ 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.
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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.) ]
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[ 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. ]
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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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That whine amuses him and he's quite frankly tempted to tug at their hair again, but he does his best to reign in that little impulse. Siffrin just has that affect on him, making it hard to forego acting on those little affectionate impulses.
But he likes their hair as it is, two-toned and all. It's unique and, quite frankly, suits them well. Thinking of it, he gives into the impulse to touch their hair, fingers settling comfortably in the tresses on the back of their head. ]
Then I shall do my best to challenge you. A color of mask you would not expect, and mayhap a hood on top of it...
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Hiding that cute tail of yours, too... We'll see how well you can disguise your gait, or what draws your eye. I've been watching you longer than you've been able to watch me, Raha.
[ Thanks to the sky, cloud like and brief as they are. ]
Sounds fun. I'll do the same. We'll play fox and hound.
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So you'll identify me by my walk, would you? Disguising it should be relatively simple, in that case. 'Tis not like I have not disguised it before. I fear you will need to use more obscure tells.
[ Which obviously Siffrin should disclose just to keep it fair. ]
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Then I'll be keeping those to myself. Consider that one a freebie, Raha, I won't give up another.
[ No matter the bribe. A traveler's got to keep his secrets, after all, tempting as it is to give a list and see all that G'raha can do to change it. ]
... Are you having fun, by the way? Touching me however you want.
[ Promise, they don't mean to make it sound worse than it does, they're just charmed at how completely G'raha has taken to it. ]
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That line of thought is immediately disrupted by Siffrin's question, every single thought in his head screeching to an immediate stop. ]
Um. I...
[ His tail puffs, much to his chagrin. It'd be really nice if he could control that reaction, actually. ]
I am. I... have spent long nights thinking of touching you over the last two weeks.
[ That, too, he doesn't mean to sound as bad as it does. ]
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Nevermind G'raha's words are embarrassing, if Siffrin had a tail it'd puff too. As it stands-- he's ducking his head against the other to hide his expression, help. ]
... Well, um. Keep at it. It feels nice, so. I don't mind. You can do pretty much anything to me right now and I won't complain. Probably. Haha.
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His face heats up in spite of his best efforts, heart hammering in his chest loud enough for Siffrin can probably hear it, what with the way he's tucked his face against G'raha. Or, rather, G'raha is sure they can hear it. Maybe not, if he's lucky. ]
Well. Um. You... anything? Really?
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(oh stars) ]
Um. Yeah. Anything. I've... been thinking about you too, Raha.
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To leave you afterwards and... see you again, but be unable to touch you was... um. Not the ideal situation.
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... How do you think I felt...? I could feel your hand, kind of... but not, um... not the way I wanted to, and... Just seeing you, in the sky-- didn't help any, either. [ An exhale, be calm, why is G'raha making them so nervous. ] It made me sick.
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I can... only imagine. After everything it must have...
[ Been torture, or at least some form of it. ]
I was at least removed from you mostly and I suppose that... at least made it somewhat easier.
[ Though only somewhat. ]
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