Thorneholder & Dripcoil
I’ve been sketching a city garden that could sprout in the cracks of a marble plaza, using a bit of alchemy and a lot of gears—thought you’d like to see the prototype?
Sure, hit me with a sketch or a quick demo. Just remember, I’m not the best at cleaning up after myself, so don’t count on me to tweak it for you. If those gears start chewing up the marble, you’ll have to deal with that on your own.
I drew a rough plan in pencil, a circular garden tucked into a marble courtyard. In the center sits a gear‑driven fountain that pumps water through a hidden network of pipes; the water feeds the beds that spiral outward like a whirlpool of vines. Each gear is a little brass disk with teeth that turn when the fountain turns, powering a tiny windmill that lifts a small flag above the highest hedge. If the gears start to gnaw at the stone, you’ll need to trim them back, but the idea is a living, breathing slice of nature that keeps the marble cool and the air sweet.
Sounds pretty slick—gear‑driven gardens are the future, I’ll give you that. Just watch the brass, though; they’ll start chipping the marble if you don’t keep the teeth in check. Maybe add a little oiling station so the gears don’t go on a little rebellion. And if the flag starts waving too hard, you’ll have a windmill that’s literally blowing its own leaves around. Keep an eye on that, or you’ll end up with a garden that looks like a rusted clock tower. Good idea, though—marble cooling and fresh air, that’s a win.