Julie Lawry (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
princessvegas) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2023-05-08 02:12 pm
princessvegas) wrote in abraxaslogs2023-05-08 02:12 pm
[open] may flowers
Who: OTA
When: May
Where: Horizon
What: How about a party that doesn't involve being watched by Abraxan authorities?
As always, Julie sends invitations around the Horizon, delivered by a parade of very small fantastical creatures. She'd had the idea weeks ago, in Nocwich, after noticing how frustrated everyone seemed to be by being put under constant "observation". There was a hitch in the plan after the various factions decided on their own parties, but it was still not the same as actually feeling free to relax.
They all need space. From the natives, from the drama, from the constant and unending monitoring they all seem to be under just by virtue of being "a Summoned". They need to tune it out for a bit.
And luckily, tuning it out is Julie's raison d'etre.
The morning of, a rainbow of flowers seems to sprout from and climb the walls of the building that houses Julie's club. The pink carpet and velvet ropes, normally the same hot pink as her hair, fade to a muted rose. The big double doors, with their handles shaped like clouds of butterflies, are propped open; the music that escapes from them isn't the thumping bass-heavy dance music that usually surrounds the place. Instead, it's gentle, quiet, but still upbeat. Music she pulled from somewhere deep in her memories, music that gave her a specific feeling. That's what she aims to recreate for others.
Through the doors, the lobby has been turned into a tunnel of wisteria, hanging down like curtains of white and pink and lilac and blue overhead. The floor is soft grass, the walkway lined in tall blooms of every imaginable shade. Between the vines above, spring sunshine peeks through, letting sunbeams naturally fall on old marble statues hidden in the flowers along the walls.
When the path opens into the main space, the first thing that greets guests is an enormous peacock sculpture, made of white flowers. It slowly turns its head to and fro, blinking and making soft cooing noises. Beside it, the bar has been made over, and is now anchored by a large cherry blossom tree in full bloom, the branches hanging over the seating. Steven, as always, is posted behind the bar, dressed in white as he passes out drinks from a gold tray. The rest of the club has been swapped into an open pavilion for tables (x, x), seating areas (x, x) and dancing. Where there is normally an empty, foreboding warehouse, now there is lush grass and a small pond.
The pavilion ceiling overhead is glass, showing a clear, picturesque blue sky. Wooden beams are wrapped in ivy and more wisteria; mismatched chandeliers hang down from the rafters. The floor is cobblestone, arranged with mosaics of butterflies flitting through it as if it were the sky. The smooth section, meant for dancing, is floral parquet, in a large bush shape to attract the butterflies. Over the dance floor is a replica of an art piece she once saw in Las Vegas. The light shining through the glass casts colorful circles on the ground, shifting and moving as the clouds pass by the sun.
Long antique tables bear a wide array of finger foods and little pastries and tea sandwiches on fine china and sterling silver platters, all of them seemingly from different tea sets. Between dishes are intricate floral arrangements, many with living butterflies in jewel tones resting on them. The butterflies seem to be encased within invisible globes atop the flowers; while they do occasionally take flight, they always seem to hover within a few inches of the petals before settling back down and slowly fluttering their wings open and closed. Scattered amongst the various dishes are random bowls of fancy pre-rolled joints (Vegas Botanicals blends, of course), cannabis hard candies (also Vegas Botanicals)... and a sugar bowl or two filled with cocaine.
Past the covered area, enormous, creative topiary pieces seem to rise from the ground, including two at the edges of the pond. One is a huge woman, water flowing from her hand like a waterfall. The other is giant cat lapping at the surface of the water. A path has been provided for lazy strolls around the pond. There are more places to sit here, out in the sun, some more formal than others. Some chairs appear to have been crafted from the earth itself. Big bushes dot the lawn, all surrounded by butterflies and gentle bumblebees and hummingbirds. Blankets are laid out in the shade of a few of the bushes, practically begging to laid out upon.
A grove of extremely tall flowers near the end of the pavilion is somewhat conspicuously placed; it hides the legs of Julie's lofted apartment. Still, the boxy little structure is nowhere near as obvious as it ordinarily might be, thanks to a liberally applied rainbow of more blooms all over it. Even the enclosed staircase, hidden behind a wooden door with ironwork, is decked out for the occasion.
Some of the Horizon creation people who live in Julie's domain have been turned into servers; they're all in pastel tuxedos, circulating through the space, never too obtrusively. The remaining several dozen partiers are seated at tables and in the grass, all in their tea party finest. They provide a soothing background of chatter and laughter. And everyone should watch their feet -- there are several very small beasts running around, each the size of a teacup chihuahua. Each one is wearing a pastel bowtie, and the T-Rex wears a tiny pink tuxedo vest. All of them have the comically sassy attitude of pampered lap dogs, running around (well, flying, in the dragon's case) as if they own the place.
Gentle breezes blow through the entire space, carrying an indeterminate array of floral scents with them. The music is constantly at the perfect volume to keep conversations private, but still easy. The resident partiers are cheerful and happy to interact when approached, but they don't ever bother the Summoned on their own. All them are startlingly realistic, for Horizon creations, with distinct features and quirks. None of them, however, can offer much more than basic small talk, and if pushed to act outside of their "enthusiastic partygoer" mold, they will simply begin to revert to the same things they've already said. Julie generally thinks of them as Sims with free will, though she is capable of controlling them as she pleases. The servers stick to a more prescribed set of actions, circling with trays of crudités and refreshing drinks. For anything more complicated, Steven will swoop in to intervene. He is the sole one of them who seems to be able to actively think. He knows your name and your favorite drink, by the way. Even if you've never met.
Don't think about it too hard -- it will start to feel incredibly upsetting if unraveled. And don't ask Julie about him, either. She has no real answers as to what, exactly, Steven is, or why he's part of her domain. He's always been here. All of the people have, all connected to her. Everything in the entire place, every blade of grass and fluttering insect wing, actively being controlled by some part of her brain that she never knew existed before the Horizon. (But it's not without drain; she will probably sleep for two days after this.)
Doors open at 11AM.
When: May
Where: Horizon
What: How about a party that doesn't involve being watched by Abraxan authorities?
As always, Julie sends invitations around the Horizon, delivered by a parade of very small fantastical creatures. She'd had the idea weeks ago, in Nocwich, after noticing how frustrated everyone seemed to be by being put under constant "observation". There was a hitch in the plan after the various factions decided on their own parties, but it was still not the same as actually feeling free to relax.
They all need space. From the natives, from the drama, from the constant and unending monitoring they all seem to be under just by virtue of being "a Summoned". They need to tune it out for a bit.
And luckily, tuning it out is Julie's raison d'etre.
The morning of, a rainbow of flowers seems to sprout from and climb the walls of the building that houses Julie's club. The pink carpet and velvet ropes, normally the same hot pink as her hair, fade to a muted rose. The big double doors, with their handles shaped like clouds of butterflies, are propped open; the music that escapes from them isn't the thumping bass-heavy dance music that usually surrounds the place. Instead, it's gentle, quiet, but still upbeat. Music she pulled from somewhere deep in her memories, music that gave her a specific feeling. That's what she aims to recreate for others.
Through the doors, the lobby has been turned into a tunnel of wisteria, hanging down like curtains of white and pink and lilac and blue overhead. The floor is soft grass, the walkway lined in tall blooms of every imaginable shade. Between the vines above, spring sunshine peeks through, letting sunbeams naturally fall on old marble statues hidden in the flowers along the walls.
When the path opens into the main space, the first thing that greets guests is an enormous peacock sculpture, made of white flowers. It slowly turns its head to and fro, blinking and making soft cooing noises. Beside it, the bar has been made over, and is now anchored by a large cherry blossom tree in full bloom, the branches hanging over the seating. Steven, as always, is posted behind the bar, dressed in white as he passes out drinks from a gold tray. The rest of the club has been swapped into an open pavilion for tables (x, x), seating areas (x, x) and dancing. Where there is normally an empty, foreboding warehouse, now there is lush grass and a small pond.
The pavilion ceiling overhead is glass, showing a clear, picturesque blue sky. Wooden beams are wrapped in ivy and more wisteria; mismatched chandeliers hang down from the rafters. The floor is cobblestone, arranged with mosaics of butterflies flitting through it as if it were the sky. The smooth section, meant for dancing, is floral parquet, in a large bush shape to attract the butterflies. Over the dance floor is a replica of an art piece she once saw in Las Vegas. The light shining through the glass casts colorful circles on the ground, shifting and moving as the clouds pass by the sun.
Long antique tables bear a wide array of finger foods and little pastries and tea sandwiches on fine china and sterling silver platters, all of them seemingly from different tea sets. Between dishes are intricate floral arrangements, many with living butterflies in jewel tones resting on them. The butterflies seem to be encased within invisible globes atop the flowers; while they do occasionally take flight, they always seem to hover within a few inches of the petals before settling back down and slowly fluttering their wings open and closed. Scattered amongst the various dishes are random bowls of fancy pre-rolled joints (Vegas Botanicals blends, of course), cannabis hard candies (also Vegas Botanicals)... and a sugar bowl or two filled with cocaine.
Past the covered area, enormous, creative topiary pieces seem to rise from the ground, including two at the edges of the pond. One is a huge woman, water flowing from her hand like a waterfall. The other is giant cat lapping at the surface of the water. A path has been provided for lazy strolls around the pond. There are more places to sit here, out in the sun, some more formal than others. Some chairs appear to have been crafted from the earth itself. Big bushes dot the lawn, all surrounded by butterflies and gentle bumblebees and hummingbirds. Blankets are laid out in the shade of a few of the bushes, practically begging to laid out upon.
A grove of extremely tall flowers near the end of the pavilion is somewhat conspicuously placed; it hides the legs of Julie's lofted apartment. Still, the boxy little structure is nowhere near as obvious as it ordinarily might be, thanks to a liberally applied rainbow of more blooms all over it. Even the enclosed staircase, hidden behind a wooden door with ironwork, is decked out for the occasion.
Some of the Horizon creation people who live in Julie's domain have been turned into servers; they're all in pastel tuxedos, circulating through the space, never too obtrusively. The remaining several dozen partiers are seated at tables and in the grass, all in their tea party finest. They provide a soothing background of chatter and laughter. And everyone should watch their feet -- there are several very small beasts running around, each the size of a teacup chihuahua. Each one is wearing a pastel bowtie, and the T-Rex wears a tiny pink tuxedo vest. All of them have the comically sassy attitude of pampered lap dogs, running around (well, flying, in the dragon's case) as if they own the place.
Gentle breezes blow through the entire space, carrying an indeterminate array of floral scents with them. The music is constantly at the perfect volume to keep conversations private, but still easy. The resident partiers are cheerful and happy to interact when approached, but they don't ever bother the Summoned on their own. All them are startlingly realistic, for Horizon creations, with distinct features and quirks. None of them, however, can offer much more than basic small talk, and if pushed to act outside of their "enthusiastic partygoer" mold, they will simply begin to revert to the same things they've already said. Julie generally thinks of them as Sims with free will, though she is capable of controlling them as she pleases. The servers stick to a more prescribed set of actions, circling with trays of crudités and refreshing drinks. For anything more complicated, Steven will swoop in to intervene. He is the sole one of them who seems to be able to actively think. He knows your name and your favorite drink, by the way. Even if you've never met.
Don't think about it too hard -- it will start to feel incredibly upsetting if unraveled. And don't ask Julie about him, either. She has no real answers as to what, exactly, Steven is, or why he's part of her domain. He's always been here. All of the people have, all connected to her. Everything in the entire place, every blade of grass and fluttering insect wing, actively being controlled by some part of her brain that she never knew existed before the Horizon. (But it's not without drain; she will probably sleep for two days after this.)
Doors open at 11AM.
no subject
Nah, not outside of the Horizon. Probably for the best. I can't imagine the folks at Portam Hall would much appreciate a horde of tiny critters runnin' around just 'cause I stopped at a china shop or somethin'.
[ Nor does she think her existing pets would be very pleased with her bringing home more competition for her attention.
With another long sip, Julie arches her eyebrows, as if to prepare herself for Hilda's reaction. There's always a reaction when she answers this question. ] Two years, come the end of summer.
no subject
[ But she comes to her own conclusion without Julie needing to explain it; if someone could bring something to life, what would that mean about turning it back? There's something to be said about how she feels worse thinking about doing that to a creature like Rex or Waffle compared to another human. But the circumstances are usually different with the latter. ]
Two years? [ And there's the reaction. ] Does that mean you arrived in Thorne first?
[ Himeka had mentioned something to that effect when she had met her and if Hilda recalled correctly, that had to be around the same time frame as Julie. ]
no subject
[ The American government was responsible for what happened to her world. The government in Thorne imprisoned her. The government in Cadens monitors them and forces them to do things -- to say nothing of the sketchy shit they're definitely experimenting with in the desert. And she's already from a long line of rednecks and hillbillies that don't appreciate that kind of authority.
Needless to say, Julie does not have an interest in working with any of the factions. She just wants to live her life. ]
Yep. [ The tone is finality. She doesn't have much of a desire have that conversation. It inevitably leads to disappointment. She prefers to let people assume she came with the initial mass escape. ] It somehow sucks even worse than Cadens, mostly.
no subject
[ Having questions asked of her by politicians isn't exactly out of the ordinary for Hilda. Claude asked her for things all the time, but that was probably a much different scenario than what Julie was describing. It sounded far more in line with their parent's generations to do something like that.
She understands her tone loud and clear, knowing not to push the subject further. Based on recent events, escapes as a rule of thumb, weren't clean breaks. When Alucard had mentioned his escape from Thorne, he hadn't elaborated either which was telling to some degree. ]
Is where you came from anything like Abraxas? Or is a little more like your domain?
no subject
[ Neither of which are actually optional, but can be evaded pretty easily. And while Julie knows that the Summoned are all tracked, she is one of the few who doesn't have the Cities' tracking spells (or whatever they) on her. They have to monitor her the old fashioned way, using up their resources. ]
Mm, it's kinda hard to explain. My world didn't have any magic at all, but a lotta stuff was similar. Except that was the past. Like, okay. I'm from the year 2020. My world and humans existed for like, a few million years, but the way we counted time, it was officially the year 2020 from when we started the count. The places here, they're all like different points on the timeline. The Cities are maybe like, 1900? 1850? Somethin' around there. Thorne is more like the 1500s. I think Solvunn is about five hundred years before that, but I never been there, so I can't say for sure. [ She gestures vaguely. ] This is all made up, it's not what my domain usually looks like at all. The way it normally looks, that's pretty much what my world was.
no subject
Despite having six month of time under her belt to learn more about others worlds, trying to fathom the sheer amount of advancement and time still makes Hilda's head spin. It was like many things she had encountered here though - so long as she didn't think too much into it, she can understand it on a conceptual level. ]
You have so much to reference! If I had to go off of the fashion, I think the closest places to Fodlan are Solvunn and Thorne. Although we definitely don't have as many gods as Abraxas does. I think the level of people that are religious is about on par.
[ Hilda's own thoughts on religion the Goddess were shallow at best. She truthfully didn't care for sermons or prayers; really only falling back on the Goddess when she felt she needed it. Selfish, sure, but she figured it was worse to put up pretences about being devout than simply being honest about how she felt.
She offers Julie a grateful grin in response for giving her as in depth of an answer as she did. ]
What I mean to say is that I think that just makes all of this the more impressive since it all came from your imagination. I'd love to see it how it is normally some time if that wouldn't be too much trouble.
no subject
[ Religion is an entirely different subject. A difficult one. Not just due to the size of Julie's world, the age of it, but also due to her personal experiences. God is real, and God is a fucking dick. ]
Sure, you can come whenever. I'm not always here, but everyone else is. Steven takes messages for me, when the club's in its normal state.
[ Yes, that means the extraneous people are all a part of this domain, always present. ]
no subject
[ Not to mention been easier on her feet. Sure you could fly a wyvern or a pegasus to wherever you needed to go, but that still required some level of awareness and effort on your part to make sure that you were going in the right direction.
What Julie says doesn't go unnoticed. A flicker of surprise crosses Hilda's features. ]
Is Steven someone you knew from home?
no subject
[ It's a thought she's had before. It baffles her that Abraxans can portal pretty much everywhere, and they're still spending their time feuding and fretting. They've thrown away so much power on squabbling over the borders. Over stupid things. ]
No. [ Julie says it blithely. Blithely enough to hide the careful wording that follows. ] Nothin' in my domain is from home. I mean, I guess it's all close enough, but it's not anywhere or anythin' I ever knew before I came here the first time.
no subject
[ The idea of travel in general appealed to Hilda. She had never been confined to Goneril in the sense that she couldn't leave home, but to say that her parents and her brother were protective is putting it lightly.
What Julie says doesn't seem particularly strange considering where they are, so she doesn't think much of it. The Horizon had shown that most anything was possible after all. ]
He just seemed so real so I assumed - which feels silly to say, considering, you know. [ She motions around them. Another sweet smile flutters onto her face. ] Thank you for opening up your domain to everyone. It's definitely been needed.
no subject
[ She had never even been to a large lake before she lived in Nott, let alone the beach in Aquila, or the ship in Nocwich. She'd seen the Hoover Dam in Vegas, and she'd seen the Colorado River when she stopped at the Grand Canyon on her trek across states. But never a beach, not until Abraxas.
Julie glances around at everything, her face strangely impassive for the fact that she is even capable of creating all of this. She looks back over her shoulder toward Steven at the bar, grinning as he dispenses drinks.
It's true, he's no one she ever knew back home. An amalgamation of people, maybe, and just vague aspects of the idea. But then she also didn't make him at all, or any of the others who populate her domain. They've gotten more unique over the years, more "real", but they never bore the creepy air that many of the other Summoned have experienced when they try to make living people. ]
You're welcome. [ That blank nature doesn't immediately leave her -- it dwells somewhere in the depths of her eyes, even as she gives Hilda a demure smile. A hostess smile. ] I'll let you get back to the party now. I hope you enjoy.