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
But.
There's one question burning at the tip of his tongue. So he leans back, tilts his head curiously, the quick pace of Siffrin's pulse against his lips remaining there like a phantom. ]
Did you already forget?
[ Not that he could blame Siffrin, as that entire visit was a whirlwind of emotion and touch and warmth, only to be followed hours later by his execution. Most people would forget.
But he wants to ask anyway, if only to see if it embarrasses Siffrin more.
Maybe that attitude is rubbing off on him. ]
no subject
... No. [ They lied. ] I just wasn't thinking about it. Like you.
[ ... But the embarrassment lingers anyway, yes he forgot but G'raha, as he's said to excuse his poor macaroon skills, is distracting-- ]
no subject
[ Liar, but he doesn't mind, not if the soft smile on his lips is any indication. G'raha cups their cheeks, hoping he can feel some of the warmth in their cheeks radiate against his palms. ]
I will gladly admit I was thinking of it, however. 'Tis not a shameful thing to think of my partner in that way, so long as they are not opposed.
[ Even if... it's embarrassing to say. He brute forces through it anyway, ears pinned back. ]
no subject
(You still don't think it's true. But you guess everyone has their... tastes.) ]
I'm not opposed.
[ It feels nice, after all, to hear he's wanted. His partner... Siffrin captures one hand to hold it still, turning to press a kiss into his palm and then up to his fingertips, nipping at them playfully. ]
... And I'm not opposed to you making good on your promise, too. I wanna be yours.
no subject
Then I shall make good on it when we reunite.
[ A long time from now, most likely, buuuut… he thinks that it’ll be something to look forward to, at least.
Besides, their current location isn’t the best for that particular activity anyway (though he will kiss them again momentarily, that’s for certain) and the mood would be ruined by the time they both climb the long way down. He was onto something about burning off energy.
His fingers wiggle in their grasp. ]
Now, I do hope I am not caught up in research upon your return to me, but we will make do.
no subject
I'll pull your tail.
[ Guaranteed way to get his attention, unfortunately. Another gentle, lingering kiss to the hand and he'll let it go, tapping fingers back up G'raha's front. ]
... Or I'll just wander around for a while until you're done. Not like I have a lot going on in my life.
[ They say, and then they have the single day to visit because they're busy with their family members in the future, but, ]
no subject
But then he smiles, soft, as he arches up into that touch, reaching down to pull on their hips and bring them closer. He’d still very much like to continue whatever trajectory they were on, but maybe after a little bit of talking.
Though it’s never a little bit with the two of them. He’ll have to interrupt at some point, but not quite yet. ]
You could join me in my studies. I would be glad to have you.