#/ ti fe -> working name for pygmy fey

[astarab1aze]

➥ The Orangerie

( def. a greenhouse where orange trees are grown )

Pathways made from terracotta and seaglass 

White-painted iron framing and one large stained glass window

White-painted iron seating with fern and salmon cushions

Floral witchlights hanging overhead come evening time 

All sizes and types of flower pots, extras and those full of flowers and herbs

Porcelain wash basin with little red flowers painted into its surface

Hides a bottle of rum in one of the orange tree branches--

He can be found napping here at least thrice a week, curled up in a sunny patch of grass with an afghan, whether in cat form or otherwise

He has a neat and organized compost bin he tosses the orange peels and other food waste

A good handful of enchanted tools to pick up the slack, all adorned in appropriately red gripping

He has only blood oranges growing inside, and only 5 of them

It is deceptively roomy inside, and the space is used well besides - Faith is nothing if not efficient with limited resources, especially given that he'd learned a spacial charm or two; It still only sounds bigger than it is

Only one other person is allowed inside for any reason; He's highly protective of this space

Faith spends a great deal of time in the orangerie, tending to each and all of his plants day-to-day as well as coveting to himself some peace and quiet; He's a sensitive soul, who, even after some time, is still somewhat prone to getting overwhelmed and has remained a fair bit uncomfortable talking with or even admitting to Howl ( @gyofukuki ) the story and unsavory details of his life before they met, happy to pretend as if it had well and truly begun then and not a day earlier. The significance of the orangerie is- it was a gift from Howl for such purposes, a space for Faith to have for himself, a space made in effect proving his belonging in and connection to the castle with him. This is where Faith is free to be himself, where the sleepy, playful, lost kitten of his soul is able to soak in the most sun, dance and sing and purr without fear of judgment from himself or others, safe and insulated from outside influence or harm. At first bare but thoughtful bones, then decorated and altered and settled into, such that even his dearest Audrey III had thrived, large and shuddering where the light was best.

It is his home away from home, an escape into new warmth and familiarity that won't hurt him, won't sting when he's frightened or overwhelmed, a place for him to keep himself out of the way while still being close by, not separate but- simply in another room, or in his case, out in the greenhouse orangerie. Though it serves in part as a semi-protective shell (window) regarding his self, it is also where he feels most confident practicing and using his magic, from herbalism to conjuration, something he's not necessarily insecure about but recognizes could use work. He even does all his best tailoring and embroidery here, ever and always struck with inspiration when the sun begins to set and the light shines through the windows just right. The rosy atmosphere, the lush hue of the world around him, as if prismatically amplified, as if the rainbow following a late afternoon rain.

It's a space he makes entirely his own, as any cat ought to, the bits and pieces of himself on clear and full display in his aesthetic choices, as well as his own brand of clutter separate from Howl's - hints of a certain kind of simplicity, a coastal life, peace and warmth. The orangerie in part becomes a sort of...workshop, or rather a small section of it does, and it is littered with all manners of buttons, spools of thread, yarn, needles, pearl strands, half empty jars of little shells and feathers and plenty, plenty more, measuring tape, charcoal, parchment, ink, thimbles, wefts of loose fabric and forgotten shreds, trimmings, felted birds and crystal broaches - all left cluttered about on both his table and a cabinet, plans for a number of designs pinned above. Dirty pots, more jars of particular seeds, special potting mixes, garden tools haphazardly shoved into little piles of composted soil-- The stained glass window reflects an important aspect of himself in turn, such being not just his love of flowers but a connection to faith itself, both personal and not, straightforward or not.

Fun fact: Faith is much older than Howl, deceptively youthful as any shifter, especially feline (avian and vulpine) - and long-lived, if given the chance.

He pours every bit of himself into it, treasuring it beyond a mere gift, but a confirmation that he exists and he belongs and he is loved. Loving deeply, in turn, down to the cut of the terracotta and little details reminiscent of Cat Town, fish patterns in the sea glass slowly moving as a school down the path - fun little illusion that, a new one too. So many of his own eccentricities peeking through the veneer of gentle and composed, where butterflies (and perhaps the odd spider or two) had a home if they but came in through the window - though he's secretly hoping for a Ti Fe or two to show instead (he even has a suitable tree picked out and a little house built for them to live comfortably in!).

The point is, the orangerie becomes Faith's haven, reflective of both the thorny and gentler, more whimsical sides of him, at last relaxing into the kindness and affection of another in a way that doesn't take from him, empty him out; Reflective, also, of a particular and entirely unique sense of trust in Howl, genuine and extensive effort put into keeping all that lived inside healthy, alive, and thriving, including himself.