As Laura paused to take in the immediate entrance of the park, Gaius stepped past her, smiling beatifically to himself. It was not quite like he remembered them, but he could see the spirit of the public gardens of his living life. He'd quietly arranged for spots of worship to be placed within as well, subtle enough that mundanes would simply take them for pretty statuary, but believers could take use of them. He did, the rare time he stepped into the sunlight to offer them, the rest of the time was under the cover of night.
“The planner certainly outdid themselves,” Gaius offered to Laura as he stepped past her, lifting his tasty morsel to finally take a bite out it. The fried dough with that bittersweet chocolate filling was delicious, but simple. A light treat for one such as he, that thrived off flesh and blood more than anything. Ahead of them, a covered walkway surrounded one section of the garden, an imitation of a Roman villa garden. The colonnaded portico was a mere skeleton of what it would have been, but then this was meant for public living, not private.
Further in, between manicured hedges and elegant statuary that was anarchonistially marble white, there would be benches. It was a tricky prospect to sell painted statues to those who admired classical architecture, as the corrupted image of the past seemed quite literally whitewashed. Ignoring that little irritation, Gaius gestured down the pathway leading deeper inside the park, away from the portico and its mancured hedgerows and flowers. “Come, let us go deeper.”
“The planner certainly outdid themselves,” Gaius offered to Laura as he stepped past her, lifting his tasty morsel to finally take a bite out it. The fried dough with that bittersweet chocolate filling was delicious, but simple. A light treat for one such as he, that thrived off flesh and blood more than anything. Ahead of them, a covered walkway surrounded one section of the garden, an imitation of a Roman villa garden. The colonnaded portico was a mere skeleton of what it would have been, but then this was meant for public living, not private.
Further in, between manicured hedges and elegant statuary that was anarchonistially marble white, there would be benches. It was a tricky prospect to sell painted statues to those who admired classical architecture, as the corrupted image of the past seemed quite literally whitewashed. Ignoring that little irritation, Gaius gestured down the pathway leading deeper inside the park, away from the portico and its mancured hedgerows and flowers. “Come, let us go deeper.”