OPENING MINGLE LOG: THE INNER GARDENS

[yourkeepers]

	THE INNER GARDENS

What is called the Inner Gardens is really more like an indoor forest. The deceptively modest circular entrance way leads into a huge, naturalistic garden that bursts with trees and plant life from all over the cosmos. The areas closest to the entrance are set up in appropriately artistic arrangements, whereas the thicker areas further back become more like a lush jungle. There are several ponds as well as one larger lake near the entrance, with an artful waterfall plunging into its depths. While the gardens are actually within the house, the sky appears to reflect day and night, and the flora reacts accordingly, the night cycle filled with phosphorous lights of dazzling colours.

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[keepscalm]

Green. Everything was so very green. Green grass, stretching up and over the hills of a land that felt indescribably right somehow. A cloudy sky, almost green at its horizon but closer to blue as it extended upwards into the ether.

He set a hand over his chest, where something tugged and yearned for the rightness of that dream. Even after coming to, he still felt an echo of that belonging, though it slowly ebbed as he took in his surroundings. The inner gardens, as they always were — but it was all so unbearably verdant that it struck him to his core, too reminiscent of that beautiful place filling his memory.

He rubbed at his eyes as if that would rid them of the clouds that spiralled within them, clear his vision of the lush grass in his mind's eye. His own scoff cut through the self-imposed blindness of his hands. Though his tone as he spoke was derisive, he could still feel the ache of lingering sentiment. "What a load of rubbish."

And now he was covered in dirt, sitting dumbly amongst the plants as he was. Rubbish, indeed.

[manelesscatking]

One of the fairest tramples some of the hostas that you had just watered. His head is on fire with a flame that burns but does not consume - hopefully he doesn't transfer that to any of the bushes.

He seems completely ignorant of your presence. His blazingly purple eyes are vacantly staring in the direction of the house.

[keepscalm]

He's only just picking himself up off the ground when one of the other servants hurries by, and he's very quick to snap out a reprimand when he sees how careless the other's steps are. "Oi! Watch the plants, will you?"

Is— is his head on fire? Things — people — being on fire here isn't exactly abnormal, he knows that much, but who in their right mind would bring their fiery self into the gardens?

[manelesscatking]

The page's head turns in the Darkling's direction, seemingly out of reflex. He continues on his course unerrant, about six seconds away from running over an entire patch of Semper Augustus clones

[keepscalm]

The groundskeeper hastily brushes himself off before starting after the troublemaker. "Are you listening? If you must run, mind the plants!"

He takes very good care of this garden! So it stands to reason that when people trample his hard work, he gets a bit cranky. Especially about the flowers; they're the most delicate of the lot, and usually the prettiest.

[manelesscatking]

It is manifestly clear that no, this strange boy is not listening. His foot is inches away from the first of the beautiful broken bulbs.

The good thing about a trance is that it leaves him very open to being tackled.

[keepscalm]

He's not so brutish as to tackle someone, which will probably end poorly for the flowers, given how close they are to destruction. But he does make a grab for the boy's arm, hoping to stop him in his tracks before the flower patch suffers for the carelessness.

[manelesscatking]

As the gardener's hand brushes the cuff of his tunic, the page halts. His muddy boot slightly depresses one of the tulip bulbs, but the patch is safe for now.

The gentle purple light of his eyes dims, and fades back into the white of sclera. The boy turns his head to the gardener a little more, this time focusing on the Darkling's face.

"Hello there. Why are you touching me?"

[keepscalm]

The Darkling skids to a stop as the young page does, narrowly avoiding a collision with both the other servant and the flowers. He takes a moment to gather his breath (for yelling, not out of any sort of fatigue), but his bemusement at the boy's reaction causes him to stumble.

"You-" He releases the Fairest's sleeve with a huff. "Why am I— you were running! I know you heard me, you looked at me when I shouted for you!"

[manelesscatking]

The boy looks down at the flowers, up at the groundskeeper, and behind himself at the swath of destruction.

"Not again! I'm sorry; I'm not quite in control all the time. Is there, uh...anything I can do to make this up to you?"

[hondsdol]

The wolf turned to the servant, curious. He took in the gray color of the other, wondering if perhaps he had seen him before. He couldn't entirely be sure. Besides the crystal clear memory of the dream before he had woken up, he couldn't clearly remember anything else.

"What's rubbish?" he asked, one brow raising as yellow eyes took in the garden. He sat near him, wondering what was going on. He had never before been so aware of his surroundings.

wow this is painfully late i'm sorry

[keepscalm]

He cast a glance over at his canine companion, eyes a bit wide, as if he hadn't noticed that there were others within earshot, or perhaps like he wasn't expecting to be spoken to. Either way, they were narrow again with scrutiny in a brief moment, his mind returning to the odd memory — the "rubbish" he spoke of.

"It was something weird," he answered with a bit of a grumble. "Some sort of dream."

late on my end too, sorry

[hondsdol]

"Dream?" the wolf echoed, watching the other. Yes, he'd had one too. It was ridiculous how strange it was, and if everyone else had had the same strange, uncomfortable dream... "What kind of dream?" he asked. If it had been anything like his, well...

"I had one, too. I dreamed of someone I have never seen before."