10-01-2016, 12:56 PM
The archaic molding and simplified elegance of the estate remains in place; a bunker like suggestion of opulence hidden from the rest of the world half way up a mountain. Gardens stretch around either side, many of which house dozens of various flower types, many of which appear to be drooping slightly as the onset of Autumn begins the cycle toward Winter.
The lawn is...grown. Thick enough that one might get their heels tangled around the blades of grass, while the massive tree that dominates the Eastern half of the lawn (segregated by pathway that led to the overhanging front porch) seems full and rich, green enough and thick in it's resplendence that one has to question whether autumn could ever threaten it, let alone winter.
The House's windows are shuttered, closed off by blackened sheets on the inside, while the gate they had arrived at was closed and needed to be pushed open and shut for them to gain entry.
They knock, nattering amongst themselves and it is a full half a minute before the vague sounds of someone approaching the door's other side arrives.
"What?"
Arturo comes to the door after the knocking. It peels open on well oiled hinges, well oiled enough that the old man doesn't bother struggling with it's solidity. He is standing there in a simple pair of grey slacks and a thick white sweater made from fraying wool, that depict a polar bear on the front. His mustache droops slightly, the goatee downturned to give him a slightly soured expression and yet his eyes stare out from an aging face with a clarity and brilliance that make him seem a touch younger.
"Oh. Right. That was today." He gives the pair a once over, each, murmuring something unintelligible under his breath before waving them both back from the door so he can step out. He glances past them out into the clouded sky and shivers slightly, rubbing his hands up and along his arms and shoulders. "Getting there, eh old girl?" He smiles sadly out at the world, before turning and walking off the steps and out beyond the lawn. He doesn't glance back to see if the pair follow, merely folds his hands behind his back and shuffles out onto the grass without pause.
"The Garden plots go around the house. Thirty-six in total. You're to pull the weeds, deadhead the flowers and prune any vines that look to be getting out of control. Once you're finished that, we'll look into mowing the lawn a touch." He pauses to turn back to the pair, even as the enormity of the task ahead of them looms...each flower 'plot' looks to be a solid 30x20 patch hugging the house walls. "Don't go near the tree."
Arturo points at the near hundred foot green centralizing the eastern lawn.
"I'll give you ten minutes to familiarize yourselves with the first plot. I'm going to go get us some beverages and myself some warmer digs. When I get back, you're going to provide me the answers you've come up with."
And with that he waves at the first of the plots, just off the front porch housing and then shuffles his way back into the House.
The lawn is...grown. Thick enough that one might get their heels tangled around the blades of grass, while the massive tree that dominates the Eastern half of the lawn (segregated by pathway that led to the overhanging front porch) seems full and rich, green enough and thick in it's resplendence that one has to question whether autumn could ever threaten it, let alone winter.
The House's windows are shuttered, closed off by blackened sheets on the inside, while the gate they had arrived at was closed and needed to be pushed open and shut for them to gain entry.
They knock, nattering amongst themselves and it is a full half a minute before the vague sounds of someone approaching the door's other side arrives.
"What?"
Arturo comes to the door after the knocking. It peels open on well oiled hinges, well oiled enough that the old man doesn't bother struggling with it's solidity. He is standing there in a simple pair of grey slacks and a thick white sweater made from fraying wool, that depict a polar bear on the front. His mustache droops slightly, the goatee downturned to give him a slightly soured expression and yet his eyes stare out from an aging face with a clarity and brilliance that make him seem a touch younger.
"Oh. Right. That was today." He gives the pair a once over, each, murmuring something unintelligible under his breath before waving them both back from the door so he can step out. He glances past them out into the clouded sky and shivers slightly, rubbing his hands up and along his arms and shoulders. "Getting there, eh old girl?" He smiles sadly out at the world, before turning and walking off the steps and out beyond the lawn. He doesn't glance back to see if the pair follow, merely folds his hands behind his back and shuffles out onto the grass without pause.
"The Garden plots go around the house. Thirty-six in total. You're to pull the weeds, deadhead the flowers and prune any vines that look to be getting out of control. Once you're finished that, we'll look into mowing the lawn a touch." He pauses to turn back to the pair, even as the enormity of the task ahead of them looms...each flower 'plot' looks to be a solid 30x20 patch hugging the house walls. "Don't go near the tree."
Arturo points at the near hundred foot green centralizing the eastern lawn.
"I'll give you ten minutes to familiarize yourselves with the first plot. I'm going to go get us some beverages and myself some warmer digs. When I get back, you're going to provide me the answers you've come up with."
And with that he waves at the first of the plots, just off the front porch housing and then shuffles his way back into the House.