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as a populated town, lethe has a myriad of places for purpose of visitation, general
quality of life additions, and natural phenomenae - as well as shops, a florists, and
a library, to name a few. these are where the locals tend to congregate, all pitching
in to do their bit to make living here as pleasant as possible. residential areas are fi
lled with empty houses waiting to be populated. the magpie grants supplies in orde
r to create new venues as necessity arrives. (in return for praise, of course.)
━━━━ 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
the train station.
the first place many experience upon entry to lethe. an empty station in the middle of nowhere, eclipsed by trees. the rail seems to extend up past the horizon in either direction, and the station itself is empty, but not derelict. it appears cared for, the surfaces clear of dust. there is an electrical sign on a post that appears to be out of order, as it has no indication of any further transport beyond this point. one wonders what a town with no trains is doing with its own station.
the lake.
upon leaving the station, the most notable sight is the grand lake that the town appears to be built around. it glimmers, glittering in the light of the rarely-missing sun, mist rising from its centre. though it is tantalising to take a dip, there are countless signs surrounding it that warn against this very incursion. not heeding these warnings and attempting to swim in its depths anyway may result in pecked eyes.
the streets.
branching from the north, south, east and west of the lake are a variety of cobbled roads leading to a multitude of buildings. some of them appear mismatched, however there is a sense of uniformity in the chaos. for the most part, they are all homely looking places, and residents can oft be seen on benches or sitting in the grass patches beside the paving stones, sunning themselves in the comfortable heat.
the forest.
in the distance, west of the town centre, lies a vast and looming mass of trees. they rustle in the night - sometimes, it almost sounds as though they are whispering, and in the bark are twisted caricatures of pained faces, grotesque and viscous red sap sometimes seen dripping from the trunks. the curious are often drawn there. it is important, however, not to spend too much time in its shade, and to never stray from its beaten path, lest they make unwanted contact with its native resident.
the mayor's mansion.
on a hill to the north of the town, the mayor's abode looms. it is gated with high fences, and residents rarely make the pilgrimage to his quarters. it stands high, visible from most points within the town. sometimes, it can feel as though it is watching you. it is not. it is a building. buildings cannot see.
━━━━ 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
the community hall.
directly north of the lake lies the community hall, a conglomerative, social building, edwardian in style. in the event of celebrations - birthdays, religious holidays, etcetera - parties are thrown here. inside, there are dance halls, a stage and auditorium, and a musical theatre. if announcements are needed, they are made on the steps at its base.
the sheriff's station
not far from the community hall is the sheriff's station, a small and easily looked over spot. a vast building is unnecessary - it is rare that people are brought in here. it has only one holding cell, and no adjoining prison. those found guilty of a great offence do not often find that their punishment is imprisonment.
the hospital.
just across from the sheriff's station, the hospital is ever so slightly larger, the workplace of the resident doctors. it houses a few rooms, mostly for the weary and injured, and boasts vast amounts of medicine and technology, applicable to nearly any scenario.
the library.
a small building, but one filled with vast knowledge. some of the books are certainly interesting, to say the least, with a small portion kept under lock and steady key, restricted from the public eye. the owner of the library, amelia, keeps the key safe. she lives above the library in a flat, connected by a rickety staircase. comfortingly dusty.
the art gallery.
a one-story building with an aesthetically decorated waiting area. inside, an office for the owner, cordelia, and the main event - displays of jewels and paintings from various different eras, great in monetary value and greater in sentimental value. kept locked at night, protected from potential thieves. not that there is a lack of trust in the town - quite the opposite - but one can never be too careful.
the museum.
situated next door to the art gallery, linked by a single archway, the museum is just under two centuries old, founded by palaeontologist cassandra charles, whose bust is in the centre of the main hall. claimed by the forest seventy years ago, the statue serves as a stark reminder of the dangers of breaking the set laws of the land. regardless, it is a vast hall with a collection of bones and fragments, meteoric rocks and ancient slabs.
the florist's.
close to the field that separates the town from the forest, the florist's is a small, bright building that blooms with a sense of joy. curious wildlife and insects can oft be found around here, sniffing around the produce. some of them are a touch more divergent from the normal animals seen outside of the town, but that's simply evolution.
the pub.
thus far, it is an empty building. a few have attempted to make an atmosphere out of the place, but none have seemed the type to keep it afloat just yet. regardless, the albatross is waiting for a new owner, and it appears that opportunity has arisen.
residential areas.
dotted around the streets are a smorgasbord of different homes. some of them claimed, some of them not - all decorated to fit the resident's individual personality, seemingly made for them. tourists may find that their dream home lies within this town, a key under the mat, ready to be claimed by them.
