Corvo & Lavanda
Corvo Corvo
Lavanda Lavanda
Lavanda Lavanda
Hey Corvo, I’ve been noticing how a garden can tell a story—like a wilted leaf whispers that it was neglected or a fresh sprout nods that it was cared for. It’s kind of like your investigations, but the plants are the silent witnesses. What do you think?
Corvo Corvo
Yeah, gardens are like clues, but instead of fingerprints they leave chlorophyll footprints. The wilted leaf is like a crime scene that got ignored, while the sprout is the evidence that someone was there. I can see why you draw that parallel.
Lavanda Lavanda
That’s a pretty poetic way to look at it. Just like you follow a trail, a garden shows its own path—one that’s gentle and patient, but still full of clues. What’s the next “scene” you’re thinking about?
Corvo Corvo
The next scene is a quiet corner of the city – an abandoned warehouse that still smells of stale coffee and old secrets. I’ll check the broken window, listen for the hum of the generator, and read the dust on the floor. It’s the kind of place where people leave fingerprints in silence, and that’s where the story ends up.