Taion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
looksgoodinpaper) wrote2022-11-10 06:33 pm
looksgoodinpaper) wrote2022-11-10 06:33 pm
folkmore - housing
Technically, this dwelling would be considered part of Lapine, but it's well off the beaten path from the rest of the more traditional hobbit-hole dwellings. Rather than being entirely horizontal, it's arranged mostly vertically, in three stories built into a sheer rock wall that forms the edge of one of the mountains separating Wintermute from the rest of Folkmore. The Satori Hills train station is the closest, though it's still a good long walk away (and a pain in the ass to try to do as the crow flies; it's easier to go down to the apartments and then to the station rather than trying to cut through the hills). The actual approach is an unpaved trail through enough forest that even the most 'immediate' neighbors aren't visible; it's probably a ten minute walk to the next house, and half an hour minimum to any kind of 'proper' civilization.
It's not obvious that there's a house there at all much of the time; it's at least half-hidden behind a waterfall that leading to a pond and stream that eventually flows down to the Selkie. A small amount of balcony sticks out from behind the waterfall on the third floor, visible as a series of handrails sticking out from under an overhang that lead behind the cascade. The actual entrance is properly behind the waterfall (which rushes past for another six feet of sheer vertical drop and then about twelve feet of rapids at the bottom). A path leads somewhat windingly around the edge of the pond up to a very traditionally round Lapine door.
By day, that's about all that's visible from the main approach - while there are windows, they mostly look outwards in the other direction, past the falls and built into the uneven rocks of the cliff. By night, it also becomes apparent that there are a few windows set behind the waterfall as well, their glow lighting up the froth of the water. All of the non-waterfall windows have built-in planter boxes, which also helps to disguise the windows; they're full of various herbs and even some small srubs moreso than flowers. (Those familiar with the subject will recognize a number of common herbal tea ingredients among them as well as some medicinal plants.)
(The windows behind the waterfall have planter boxes too - but those are full of edible mushrooms.)
Inside the house, the first floor is devoted primarily to a large common area. Although it's not exactly uncomfortable, it's sparsely furnished in the way of vacation homes and other places that aren't really lived in. (This is probably not helped by the fact that in spite of having a house, Taion will still frequently be away from it for days at a time.) Part of it is relaxation furniture, but another part is taken up by a pair of individual desks and a single large work table. There aren't any chairs around the large table, which currently plays host to Taion's large working map of Folkmore and some related papers. That half of the room is walled in by bookshelves.
The major exception from what people would expect of such a first floor is that instead of a proper kitchen, there's only a small kitchenette that can make only the most basic stovetop meals, reheat leftovers, and tea. Behind one door on this floor there's a room that seems to be just a large open space, similar to a dance studio; it's a few stairsteps down from the rest of the floor, allowing it to have a higher ceiling. A second door leads to a reasonably well-stocked medical pantry that could almost be called an infirmary in its own right; the third door leads to the stairs upwards.
The stairwells are, in fact, closed off by doors on both ends. The one coming up to the second floor opens to what seems to be a tight squeeze of a communal space, just an immediate place to sit down and not much else. Despite this, the second floor is actually the largest; four reasonably-large bedrooms lead down the hallway opposite a pair of double doors, which contains a full bath suite with steaming tub (in addition to the required amount of toilets, sinks, etc). Everything is arranged around the tub, and only the two sub-rooms for the two toilets on this floor have any privacy; the sinks and two showers are exposed with only the barest amount of foggy glass to catch shower spray. The tub itself could fit four people comfortably or six if they were good friends. (The bathroom is cliff-side and the bedrooms are hill-side, with windows that look outwards at somewhat varied heights.)
The top floor is home to the proper kitchen, which is really quite impressive, and a moderately-sized workshop space. There's also a somewhat more casual lounge space that looks designed for comfortable eating, with a low table that's not high enough off the ground to be called a dining table (it seems designed to be used from either the couch next to it or the floor) but is far too large to be called a coffee table. A set of sturdy doors leads from there to the part of the balcony behind the waterfall. There's a small storage closet here, which holds a folding table and a couple of chairs.
A clever set of eyes out on the upper balcony would note that there's a small pathway that leads further up the cliff from there. Following this path goes up over the rock wall for about twenty horizontal feet and then down a spill of hill on the other side, which looks much more typically Lapine with a few windows tenting up from the regular shape of the hill and a couple of tiers that could be cultivated into a vegetable garden but haven't been as of yet. The hill leads straight down into the trees, ending a level about equivalent to the pond on the other side, where the ground levels out before eventually starting to climb upward into the mountains again.
It's not obvious that there's a house there at all much of the time; it's at least half-hidden behind a waterfall that leading to a pond and stream that eventually flows down to the Selkie. A small amount of balcony sticks out from behind the waterfall on the third floor, visible as a series of handrails sticking out from under an overhang that lead behind the cascade. The actual entrance is properly behind the waterfall (which rushes past for another six feet of sheer vertical drop and then about twelve feet of rapids at the bottom). A path leads somewhat windingly around the edge of the pond up to a very traditionally round Lapine door.
By day, that's about all that's visible from the main approach - while there are windows, they mostly look outwards in the other direction, past the falls and built into the uneven rocks of the cliff. By night, it also becomes apparent that there are a few windows set behind the waterfall as well, their glow lighting up the froth of the water. All of the non-waterfall windows have built-in planter boxes, which also helps to disguise the windows; they're full of various herbs and even some small srubs moreso than flowers. (Those familiar with the subject will recognize a number of common herbal tea ingredients among them as well as some medicinal plants.)
(The windows behind the waterfall have planter boxes too - but those are full of edible mushrooms.)
Inside the house, the first floor is devoted primarily to a large common area. Although it's not exactly uncomfortable, it's sparsely furnished in the way of vacation homes and other places that aren't really lived in. (This is probably not helped by the fact that in spite of having a house, Taion will still frequently be away from it for days at a time.) Part of it is relaxation furniture, but another part is taken up by a pair of individual desks and a single large work table. There aren't any chairs around the large table, which currently plays host to Taion's large working map of Folkmore and some related papers. That half of the room is walled in by bookshelves.
The major exception from what people would expect of such a first floor is that instead of a proper kitchen, there's only a small kitchenette that can make only the most basic stovetop meals, reheat leftovers, and tea. Behind one door on this floor there's a room that seems to be just a large open space, similar to a dance studio; it's a few stairsteps down from the rest of the floor, allowing it to have a higher ceiling. A second door leads to a reasonably well-stocked medical pantry that could almost be called an infirmary in its own right; the third door leads to the stairs upwards.
The stairwells are, in fact, closed off by doors on both ends. The one coming up to the second floor opens to what seems to be a tight squeeze of a communal space, just an immediate place to sit down and not much else. Despite this, the second floor is actually the largest; four reasonably-large bedrooms lead down the hallway opposite a pair of double doors, which contains a full bath suite with steaming tub (in addition to the required amount of toilets, sinks, etc). Everything is arranged around the tub, and only the two sub-rooms for the two toilets on this floor have any privacy; the sinks and two showers are exposed with only the barest amount of foggy glass to catch shower spray. The tub itself could fit four people comfortably or six if they were good friends. (The bathroom is cliff-side and the bedrooms are hill-side, with windows that look outwards at somewhat varied heights.)
The top floor is home to the proper kitchen, which is really quite impressive, and a moderately-sized workshop space. There's also a somewhat more casual lounge space that looks designed for comfortable eating, with a low table that's not high enough off the ground to be called a dining table (it seems designed to be used from either the couch next to it or the floor) but is far too large to be called a coffee table. A set of sturdy doors leads from there to the part of the balcony behind the waterfall. There's a small storage closet here, which holds a folding table and a couple of chairs.
A clever set of eyes out on the upper balcony would note that there's a small pathway that leads further up the cliff from there. Following this path goes up over the rock wall for about twenty horizontal feet and then down a spill of hill on the other side, which looks much more typically Lapine with a few windows tenting up from the regular shape of the hill and a couple of tiers that could be cultivated into a vegetable garden but haven't been as of yet. The hill leads straight down into the trees, ending a level about equivalent to the pond on the other side, where the ground levels out before eventually starting to climb upward into the mountains again.