the jinn (thejinn) wrote in crownplazaic, @ 2020-12-03 11:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, jinn, malcolm bright |
Who: Jinn and OTA
Where: The Abandoned Graveyard
When: Thursday 3rd, morning
What: A spot of gardening
Status: In progress
Warnings: None
The rain had finally let up. Soon, all those who'd complained of being cooped up inside the hotel would be spilling out its doors. Already Jinn could hear the faint sound of voices from the boat dock. They'd be traipsing through the woods in short order, or filling the greenhouse with noise. And it would feel — comforting. In the months since he had arrived at the hotel, Jinn had fixed a shed, eaten more ice cream than he ought, and most recently, joined a knitting club. This place wasn't the safe haven he'd hoped it was, but who said a haven had to be? So the floating jellies in the sky might plop down to the grounds and electrocute anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves in the wrong place, at the wrong time. So the hotel might sink its teeth into another of its guests; what of it? The world Jinn had been ripped from was no less vicious. He dug his shovel into the dirt, metal scraping against stone, and unearthed another tangle of roots. Yanking the weeds out was the only way to tidy up the graveyard. The only lasting way, at least. For all he knew, they'd grow back by tomorrow morning and there'd be nothing he could do about it. But the shed was still standing, even if it occasionally went missing. Jinn chose to be hopeful as he tore up another tangle creeping up over a headstone so weathered with age that the inscription had become illegible. He tossed the weed, roots and all, into the pile of plant matter he (perhaps optimistically) hoped to turn to compost. But one step at the time. First clear away the graves, then figure out what to replant, and how. It was his chosen errand for the day, sky jellies or no sky jellies, and he didn't stop even when he glimpsed movement from the corner of his eye. |