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)
abraxaslogs2021-10-29 08:55 pm
princessvegas) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-10-29 08:55 pm
HAPPY HALLOWEEN ABRAXAS
Who: Julie Lawry and YOU, everyone
Where: The Horizon, Julie's domain
When: Halloween
What: P A R T Y
Warnings: alcohol, drugs, general party stuff. please put cws in subject lines if they come up!
01 | WAIT
It isn't hard to find Julie's domain. As she had told anyone who visited her prior to this evening, all you ever need to do is follow the music. For a hundred yards in any direction, muffled bass radiates through air. Neon illuminates the entrance in pink, lights a path along the pink carpet and pink velvet rope barricade. The huge double doors are what stick out. Covering the frosted glass, lit from behind, are dozens of bloody splatters and handprints, some of which appear to have been dragged off to the side. Written in giant letters of blood, the door reads TURN BACK NOW.
True to the invite that everyone accidentally received in their vision (most people also got a paper copy left in their domain -- like hell was she going to put in the effort and then throw it away), the doors of Julie's club remain firmly closed until exactly 10pm. At 10, the neon abruptly extinguishes itself and the music goes silent, leaving the area in pitch black quiet. The doors swing open on their own and fog floods out as screams echo from within. The bass starts back up, reverberating at frequency designed to shake the human body from within.
The screams raise to a fever pitch as the lights suddenly come back on, timed to sync with cannons that fire black and red confetti over everyone waiting. It's time.
02 | DANCE
Inside, the entire club has been decorated to appear as if it had sprouted in a desolate forest under a harvest moon, represented by a massive orange orb suspended from the ceiling. Barren trees sprout from the slick black floor, moss and spiders cloaking their protruding roots. In the upper levels of the branches, bodies swing in nonexistent winds, hanging on rotted ropes, bloodied sacks covering their heads. The bar is draped in more moss and spiderwebs, and a bartender dressed as a very convincing zombie is already pouring drinks into the many glasses waiting to be drunk. The bartender's name is Steven, if you need anything, and every drink he makes is the best drink you've ever had. There are tubs of water where you can bob for miniature bottles of Fireball, which must be immediately taken as a shot upon winning one, and some tables bear trays of shot glasses, each one with little floating eyeballs or brains in the drink (they're gummies, and safe to consume). There is a buffet of candy and various creepy snacks against one wall, though it also bears literal dishes of drugs for the taking; bowls of pills and plates of cocaine, and of course, a whole cauldron filled with large blunts and packages of edibles in every variety imaginable, all free for the taking.
The booths and seating are all black now, and look like they've been left to decay for years. More orange orbs light each table. The music is loud, but only comfortably so -- never so loud that it makes conversation difficult. The dance floor is lit from underneath, and strobes in time with the beat. There are already people dancing, although fewer than usual, and though they're all in costume, they ignore everyone unless directly interacted with. These are manifested people, designed to make sure that Julie is never alone, and she doesn't have the heart to unmake them, so instead, they're used as moving decor. The DJ booth looms large above the dance floor, set into the VIP balcony. Blood persistently drips from the edge of the balcony, though it never seems to accumulate anywhere in particular. A separate, smaller stage is set off to one side, with a professional karaoke setup; it's not lit up for use, but can be with the flip of a switch.
03 | SCREAM
If you move through the club, as if to get to the back wall, you'll find that the light gradually grows more sterile and the music fades as the furnishings become sparser and sparser. Eventually, you'll find yourself in what appears to be an abandoned, empty warehouse. The floor is filthy, and there's an ominous industrial fan set in the far back wall, wooshing as it slowly turns. The overhead lighting flickers off and on.
There's a separate structure, two stories and boxy, that's been roped off to prevent entry -- private quarters that Julie put in later, a lofted apartment in case she wants to be somewhere a bit more quiet, with the modern conveniences that she doesn't have outside the Horizon.
But there's a larger structure, shrouded in darkness, and this building-within-a-building has a wide open door. Screaming and violent noises ring from within, and a crooked sign, lit up in black light with glowing white print, points the way in, asking everyone who sees it FEELING BRAVE?.
Inside the haunted house, there is only black light and various glowing colors, all mimicking the negative of a scene from a horror movie. Following the path and noise seems safe at first; though there are creepy things and the feeling of phantom cobwebs accosting you at every turn, there is nobody around. That is, until you turn the first corner. As you do, people in all black with only neon and fluorescent paint to define them begin to swarm at you, cackling and brandishing glowing weapons. They're surprisingly energetic for manifested people, and Julie has worked very hard to get them to do what she wants. They're aggressive but in a defined way; they chase but don't touch, lunge but allow people to escape. They seem to come from nowhere, every time you feel just a little bit less nervous. (If struck, they respond only by immediately leaving the area.) The sound effects crescendo as you come out of the other side, where a table of picture frames hold photos of your funniest scared faces during the experience. They're free for the taking, although of course they can't be taken back to Abraxas, and a celebratory drink accompanies each snapshot. A pink carpet leads the way back to the club.
The night is yours.
[ ooc notes: The pictures are mostly to give a vibe. Since the Horizon is amazing, feel free to presume things look much much much better IC. If you would like a better idea of what her domain actually looks like, please click here! ]
Where: The Horizon, Julie's domain
When: Halloween
What: P A R T Y
Warnings: alcohol, drugs, general party stuff. please put cws in subject lines if they come up!
01 | WAIT
It isn't hard to find Julie's domain. As she had told anyone who visited her prior to this evening, all you ever need to do is follow the music. For a hundred yards in any direction, muffled bass radiates through air. Neon illuminates the entrance in pink, lights a path along the pink carpet and pink velvet rope barricade. The huge double doors are what stick out. Covering the frosted glass, lit from behind, are dozens of bloody splatters and handprints, some of which appear to have been dragged off to the side. Written in giant letters of blood, the door reads TURN BACK NOW.
True to the invite that everyone accidentally received in their vision (most people also got a paper copy left in their domain -- like hell was she going to put in the effort and then throw it away), the doors of Julie's club remain firmly closed until exactly 10pm. At 10, the neon abruptly extinguishes itself and the music goes silent, leaving the area in pitch black quiet. The doors swing open on their own and fog floods out as screams echo from within. The bass starts back up, reverberating at frequency designed to shake the human body from within.
The screams raise to a fever pitch as the lights suddenly come back on, timed to sync with cannons that fire black and red confetti over everyone waiting. It's time.
02 | DANCE
Inside, the entire club has been decorated to appear as if it had sprouted in a desolate forest under a harvest moon, represented by a massive orange orb suspended from the ceiling. Barren trees sprout from the slick black floor, moss and spiders cloaking their protruding roots. In the upper levels of the branches, bodies swing in nonexistent winds, hanging on rotted ropes, bloodied sacks covering their heads. The bar is draped in more moss and spiderwebs, and a bartender dressed as a very convincing zombie is already pouring drinks into the many glasses waiting to be drunk. The bartender's name is Steven, if you need anything, and every drink he makes is the best drink you've ever had. There are tubs of water where you can bob for miniature bottles of Fireball, which must be immediately taken as a shot upon winning one, and some tables bear trays of shot glasses, each one with little floating eyeballs or brains in the drink (they're gummies, and safe to consume). There is a buffet of candy and various creepy snacks against one wall, though it also bears literal dishes of drugs for the taking; bowls of pills and plates of cocaine, and of course, a whole cauldron filled with large blunts and packages of edibles in every variety imaginable, all free for the taking.
The booths and seating are all black now, and look like they've been left to decay for years. More orange orbs light each table. The music is loud, but only comfortably so -- never so loud that it makes conversation difficult. The dance floor is lit from underneath, and strobes in time with the beat. There are already people dancing, although fewer than usual, and though they're all in costume, they ignore everyone unless directly interacted with. These are manifested people, designed to make sure that Julie is never alone, and she doesn't have the heart to unmake them, so instead, they're used as moving decor. The DJ booth looms large above the dance floor, set into the VIP balcony. Blood persistently drips from the edge of the balcony, though it never seems to accumulate anywhere in particular. A separate, smaller stage is set off to one side, with a professional karaoke setup; it's not lit up for use, but can be with the flip of a switch.
03 | SCREAM
If you move through the club, as if to get to the back wall, you'll find that the light gradually grows more sterile and the music fades as the furnishings become sparser and sparser. Eventually, you'll find yourself in what appears to be an abandoned, empty warehouse. The floor is filthy, and there's an ominous industrial fan set in the far back wall, wooshing as it slowly turns. The overhead lighting flickers off and on.
There's a separate structure, two stories and boxy, that's been roped off to prevent entry -- private quarters that Julie put in later, a lofted apartment in case she wants to be somewhere a bit more quiet, with the modern conveniences that she doesn't have outside the Horizon.
But there's a larger structure, shrouded in darkness, and this building-within-a-building has a wide open door. Screaming and violent noises ring from within, and a crooked sign, lit up in black light with glowing white print, points the way in, asking everyone who sees it FEELING BRAVE?.
Inside the haunted house, there is only black light and various glowing colors, all mimicking the negative of a scene from a horror movie. Following the path and noise seems safe at first; though there are creepy things and the feeling of phantom cobwebs accosting you at every turn, there is nobody around. That is, until you turn the first corner. As you do, people in all black with only neon and fluorescent paint to define them begin to swarm at you, cackling and brandishing glowing weapons. They're surprisingly energetic for manifested people, and Julie has worked very hard to get them to do what she wants. They're aggressive but in a defined way; they chase but don't touch, lunge but allow people to escape. They seem to come from nowhere, every time you feel just a little bit less nervous. (If struck, they respond only by immediately leaving the area.) The sound effects crescendo as you come out of the other side, where a table of picture frames hold photos of your funniest scared faces during the experience. They're free for the taking, although of course they can't be taken back to Abraxas, and a celebratory drink accompanies each snapshot. A pink carpet leads the way back to the club.
The night is yours.
[ ooc notes: The pictures are mostly to give a vibe. Since the Horizon is amazing, feel free to presume things look much much much better IC. If you would like a better idea of what her domain actually looks like, please click here! ]
no subject
She wonders if it's hard to walk with hooves. Her voice in response is at a normal level, and he'll find that the background noise seems to automatically dial down in response to her. It actually does so for everyone, but the catch is that you have to expect to be able to converse at regular volumes. ]
Jaskier, right? [ She pronounces it Jazz-key-er, which is how she first read it in her vision, and, to be fair, it's not a name she's ever heard before. ] Not every party's like this back home, we got all kinds of parties, but this is the best kind! I'm real glad you like it. Some of y'all don't take to this kinda place as well as I hoped.
[ People from old timey places seem to hate it, no matter how much she tones it down. Sorry that she's from an era with lightbulbs, losers. The fact that Jaskier enjoys it makes her extremely happy. ]
You wanna see somethin'? Watch this. [ She raises a hand and, from the tech area at the DJ booth, two cannons fire off and shower the dancefloor in confetti as she laughs. ]
no subject
Ah. Soft.
He cannot place her accent, certainly with no equivalent from the Continent he can think of, but it's adorable in a way he doesn't expect. It suits her. As does, shockingly, the completely unnatural hair color. Pink. Pink hair. Will wonders never cease? The antlers and the flowers. Of course he loves the flowers, matching the buds tangled in his own hair.]
Some of... y'all? [He pauses. People like him?] Oh, do show!
[Whatever it is, the answer is yes. He wants to see. Of course, it's not her fault that Jaskier and extremely loud noises are not getting along very well ever since Ciri's magic nearly blew his arm off. The cannons fire and he jumps with a startled yelp, ducking down, covering his head, looking up to see --
Stars? But the stars are floating down, covering the two of them, and even though his heart is trying to beat out of his chest and his whole body is shaking, he cannot help but take in the beauty of them catching the light, glittering. His hand covers his chest to keep his heart inside.
At least her laugh tells him that it was not meant to be such a terrifying thing. But a twitchy bard's instinct is a hard instinct to kill.] I -- excuse me! That was. Not what I expected. Hah. [The laugh is more like a wheeze.] B-but, make no mistake, it is truly a beautiful sort of magic, bringing stars indoors.
no subject
But he's so startled and Julie immediately becomes concerned, reaching out for him with open hands. She hadn't meant to scare him, and she's reminded of multiple relatives of her own who couldn't handle loud noises or sudden movements without panicking. Usually with a gun involved. She had just assumed that wouldn't be an issue for someone who didn't seem to be from an era of IEDs and artillery shells. ]
Hey, hey, you okay? It's just glitter, sorry. I didn't know you would get that scared. Here, come here, let me get you a drink. It's okay, can't nothin' hurt us here.
no subject
Oh. It's. Really wonderful to find out he has a whole new thing his body does. That he didn't know about.]
I -- I'm fine. I -- we don't have things like that, I suppose, where I come from. [Considering he isn't even quite sure where it all shot out from. Oh. She's rather nice for someone Geralt was so clearly interested in. Not for nothing, but when his type included Yennefer --]
I'd love a drink. Honestly, I don't think I can have enough of them. Whatever they are, they're delicious. The little ones. Those are my favorites.
[He's definitely had a few of the shots already, only gently placing the weird squishy eyes somewhere else. Where he doesn't think about them.]
no subject
It's not so much that she's nice as much as the fact that she prefers to punch down almost exclusively.]Well, you got somethin' close enough, to give you PTSD like that. Only people I ever seen act like that was my uncles and cousins, the military ones who got stationed overseas. A balloon'd pop at party and you'da thought they were back in the desert.
[ This is not a thought train that she actually expects Jaskier to follow; this is simply talking to talk, which Julie often does, but increases in severity when she is anxious or uncomfortable. As she speaks, she is gently ushering him away from the crowd and loudness, toward one of the further booths that are a bit more quiet. On the way, she snags an entire tray of shots off the bar, which she deposits on the table once she gets him there. ]
There, see, it's all right. I'm real sorry, I just assumed... well, you're fine, that's all that matters. [ She grabs one of the shots and tosses the whole thing back, gummy eyeball and all, which she is still chewing as she plunks the glass back down. ] Are you gonna be okay? Do you want some weed? Or Xanax, that might be good for you. Wait here, I'm gonna get you a xanny.
this is going to end really well
Oh, no. He flinches when she says back in the desert. A lucky guess, and far too close to home.
At this point, whatever she gets him, he'll take. He's not the smartest man at modern parties.] Oh, I'm fine! Don't worry about it, I promise. [Ugh. Ew. Well, at least he knows they're edible now.] Er -- weed? Ah. I don't -- I haven't a habit of chewing grass. [The other word she says sort of just melts through his head.] Sure, yes. That sounds wonderful. [It's probably a drink or something. Right?]
remember what she did to geralt at sam's, jaskier. now think of your fate again
She leaves for just a moment, then comes back with her hands full. Depositing a single Xanax from her closed fist into his palm, she knocks back three herself, because even though this is all magical and everything, she's still built up a tolerance, if only because she naturally expects to.
In her other hand is a bag of cannabis gummies, which she drops on the table, a blunt and a lighter. Aware that he has no idea what anything good is, she explains. ]
All right, first off, take that pill. It's called Xanax, it's medicine that you take if you got anxiety. It'll calm you down, takes about fifteen minutes to kick in. [ She opens the gummies and pours them on the table as she sits down. ] Weed is a name for a plant, cannabis. It's also called marijuana, but usually you just hear it called weed. It's just a plant, grows right outta the ground, and you can either grind it up and smoke it, [ She holds up the blunt and lighter to show him. ] or you can cook it down into food and eat it. A lot of the time, we like to put it in sweet stuff, candy or brownies or cookies.
[ One of the only semi-useful things in the world that Julie has a wealth of knowledge about, thanks to both her background and her own affinity, is drugs. She can chatter on and on about them, but mostly she just explains them when she needs to. ]
Weed can either calm you down or inspire you, depending what kind it is. The kind I made is somewhere in between, chills you out without makin' you fall asleep. Unless that's what you want, I guess.
he has never considered his own fate, ever (when it comes to having a good time)
When she returns, it's with some sort of bounty. Being from the 1200s, he is not entirely sure what these things are. What looks like some sort of white seed, and more of those. Squishy things.
He blinks through her explanation. And a lot of one it is. She really is attempting to make sure he's enjoying himself. It's only the Horizon, of course, but...
He perks up at that word. That specific word.] Inspire? [It's not like he's never taken any sort of... of supplement, that is, to open one's mind, but certainly not things like these.] My lady, you are as beautiful as you are generous. Which, it seems, you are already an endless fount of both.
[Fuck it. Yes, he does want to be calm. He wants to be inspired. He swallows the little white seed with a sip of his drink, and picks up one of the gummies, which he squishes.
Oh. What a texture. That goes in his mouth, too, with a few awkward chews (it's a bit like chewing on sugar cane, actually) and a swallow. Immediately, he grasps one of her lovely hands in both of his with a squeeze.] No, no! I'd rather live in this world for a little longer. Sleep always comes, but fun, true fun, can often be so temporary.
[As are drugs. Drugs are temporary, and he's about to get high.]
no subject
But she also did trigger his incredibly obvious PTSD, so it's her responsibility to clean it up.
She laughs and lets him take her hand as she takes a seat, leaning her elbow on the back of the booth. Her nails drag along his palm as she takes her hand back. ]
All right, that's gonna take about fifteen minutes too, since you have to digest it. But why wait, right? [ From the table, she retrieves the blunt, holds it between her lips and lights it. The smoke she's designed is more smooth than anything in the real world, never burns or chokes, and every time she experiences it, she is taken aback by how great this fucking place is. She holds it for a fair amount of time, then reaches out with one hand to Jaskier's cheek. Leaning in close, she stops an inch from his face, then blows directly into his mouth and nose. ] Breathe that in.
no subject
He must say, he never imagined he would attempt to flirt with a woman dressed like a doe. And yet was still somehow attractive around it. Despite it? Or does it accentuate certain, ah, assets?
She raises a good question.] I have always preferred not waiting. [Not that he knows what he's signing up for. Conveniently, he's always preferred not really figuring out things when it doesn't feel important. What could possibly happen? He's in the Horizon and he can cease to feel whatever he'd like. In this moment, with lovely company, he is free to relax. To let himself feel.
Jaskier barely needs encouragement. Her hand on his cheek is enough, warm palm to skin that is steadily growing much warmer. He leans in and, for a second, imagines she might simply kiss him. It would be quite fast, but he understands he is very handsome and charming, even if he was terrified a moment ago. To be fair, some women find fear attractive.
She doesn't, though. Luckily, he doesn't attempt to steal one from her, either. She blows smoke and he breathes it in -- and god, that's certainly a smell>. It must be because he sees smoke, he imagines it's like fire... it's like that, but like something else. Pungent. This is the Horizon, though. One can shift anything. He breathes it again, and this time the smell of the smoke is much more akin to nectar, like honeysuckle. Sweet. And it sticks to his throat, warm honey.
His eyes flutter.]
Oh. That's rather... [The word escapes him as he licks his lips.] New. That's new. [Deliberately breathing smoke is new when it so often carries... ah, less savory things with it.] I feel something. It's hard to describe. A... a teetering. A tottering.
[Yes. Nailed it.]
no subject
[ She smiles, still close to him, and decides she really likes being the one to expose all these old world people to fun stuff. Not even just various intoxicants, but all of it -- she loved showing Ciri costumes and makeup, explaining various aspects of technology and modernity. Their surprise at how much they actually like it delights her; she's aware that the whole thing, the music and lights and people, it's overwhelming for them when it's all at once, but when she gives them just one or two tidbits to hold on to, they're always so shocked.
Her next mission is zippers, though. Fuck all those buttons and laces, these people need zippers.Turning her head slightly, she takes another drag, then blows into his face again, her lips brushing his, leaving behind a smear of lipstick. When she sits back, it is with a self-satisfied air and a grin. ] See? Everything's okay. So, why "Jaskier"? Is it a bard thing, do you need a one-word name? We got singers back home who do that, but it's usually their real name, they just drop their family name.
no subject
[Not that he's ever floated before -- on a river, perhaps, but that's about it. On water. This isn't quite like that. But the air? Certainly it could feel like this. A heaviness but a lightness all at once.
His eyes widen a bit as her lips so gracefully touch his. Like a kiss. Except he breathes in deeply, lost a bit in the floral scent that he's made. Gods. That's something else. Wait. Why is she leaning away? He was quite sure they were going to kiss, and he even leans over before tipping a bit, just managing to catch himself on his seat.]
Yes, right. Everything is okay. [Honestly, he's very sure he could sit here and watch her delightful hair shift about her shoulders, listen to that darling accent, and be perfectly content. (If not a bit regretful, missing his chance for a kiss.)]
A... a bard thing? I suppose so. [He brushes hair out of his face, leaning back in his chair as a faint wooziness runs through his head. Not uncomfortable, but it's altering his balance a bit.] It needn't be only one word. Plenty of musicians like picking up a separate name to represent themselves. And I have -- well, I have family attached to my name, and they are not part of my being a bard. [He leaves it at that, rubbing a few of his fingers together. Where he does, small yellow flowers appear, growing from nothing but the air of the Horizon. They braid together in a sort of crown, and he holds it out to her with a grin.] I named myself after these. I believe they're also called buttercups. Bright and terribly hard to get rid of. Exactly like me.
[It's a point of pride, thank you.]
no subject
High sex is incredibly great, though, Jaskier. Just so you know.
Her eyes light up with delight when he creates the flowers from nothing, and she takes the crown delicately, running her fingertip over one of the blooms. She looks back at him, smile wide. ]
I didn't know your name was a real word, like for somethin' else. We have buttercups back home too. There's stories about 'em, fairytales, and little kids play games with 'em. We call people buttercup, too. Like people you love, your family and friends, it's a term of endearment.
no subject
I believe we one similar. [He has definitely been lovingly called buttercup, but he's also not bringing that up because that same woman sort of. Broke his heart.] They've always been sweet little things to me. They would grow all over our hillsides in the spring, covering them in gold. And the children would go out and pick them to make these crowns.
[Which is yours, Julie, as he takes her in holding it carefully with a delicious flutter in his heart. Some women are just effortlessly attractive. He really envies them for that.]
You are more than welcome to call me that as well. Endearingly.
[He meets her smile with his own.] You know, Julie and Julian. It's probably best I have a separate name. They're quite easy to confuse when a tongue becomes too heavy.
[His is definitely getting there. But to her credit, he is definitely relaxed now, the slopes of his shoulders softened.]
no subject
Though it takes a bit of interesting neck angles, she manages to hook the crown over one of her antlers, where it gently falls through the pink blooms to land at a jaunty angle in the sharper pink of her hair. ] They probably one of the most common flowers where I'm from. My uncle had a farm, there would be a whole field of them every year when I went riding.
[ It's one of the few good memories she actually has of her childhood, and it reflects on her face, that this is something fond she hasn't actually thought about in ages.
She laughs softly, drawing one leg up under herself, and she's relaxed too, though to be fair, she has been high for many hours at this point. ]
My whole name's even closer, just a letter off. Julia.
no subject
This poet's just been waiting for an excuse to slut it up.]
Riding? Oh, like on horses. The same for me. It was quite relaxing.
[It's a little relieving to hear that a woman from a world so completely foreign to him -- if this party is any indication -- can still share such intimately similar memories.
He laughs.] My! Think of all the time you save by shaving off a single vowel! Though it's much harder to rhyme with than Julie. [He clears his throat.] Julie / Truly unruly / Decorated with jewelry / Stars hung upon the moon...
[Oh, no. He's started the singing part of being high. Yep, it's starting to hit.]
no subject
He starts singing and she laughs, not having been expecting it. It's hardly the first time someone has rhymed her name -- her nickname as a child was Unruly Miss Julie -- but it's absolutely the first time they've tried to make a song out of it. ]
Do you just write songs about everyone you meet?
no subject
Mmm. Only the ones I like.
[The most honest answer he can give. And, yes, the additional detail it's usually people he's trying to sleep with. That is not, however, an absolute requirement. He's sang plenty of songs about Geralt, for instance, and never slept with him.]
I admit, it's probably not my best. I'll have to write you a full, proper song when I can... er. Remember more words.
no subject
[ It's cooed, only half-present as the Xanax hits and combines with everything else already in her system. She has reached the point of high where her limbs feel leaden, her eyelids heavy. All she can do is prop her head up and smile lazily at him.
She reaches out with her invisible hand and gently brushes his hair out of his face, touches his cheek. ]
It's real nice of you, though.
no subject
I don't have to for anyone. Please believe I only ever do what I like in life.
[They're certainly reaching the same point. He sits there and his eyes flutter closed under her soft touch, his smile as permanent as if it was painted on. It feels extra wonderful, he thinks, because it is something in his scalp, all the way down his back. Casual and intimate all at the same time.]
You know, I feel it's a miracle you get anything done like this. [He opens his eyes again, and he is. Definitely leaning into the palm of her hand.] I would so easily desire to feel like this forever.
no subject
Normally, downers are for the end of the night. I'll do a couple of lines in a little bit, perk back up.
[ Really, it's a shock her body contains anything except drugs. But the Horizon allows her to forgo any of the restraint that would be necessary in real life. Why not go hard if you're doomed to wake up sober in an instant? ]
Did Geralt really do all that stuff in the song? Ciri said there's all kinda music and poems about him.
no subject
He glances around, counting the two hands now on his body. No. That's. One. Two.
If it were not for the drugs, this would be actually very disturbing. Several times does he count both of her hands on his body, but he can. Definitely feel another. And it is so distinctly a hand; fingers moving through his hair and when he reaches up, there's nothing there.
Oh. Magic. Right.]
That is definitely a way to use magic. [Now that he's figured it out, he has absolutely no problem with it. He's learned quickly that Julie is good with her hands, even her... magic ones. And perhaps he put far too much effort into making sure the fur is part of his body here in the Horizon, since. Wow. That feels. Very lovely.]
Mmhmm. Drowners. [He nods. He's not following the conversation as much; this must be how a glutted cat feels, pet lovingly after a full meal.]
Oh? Yes, of course. It's all my music. And poetry. [Said humbly, of course. Gods. He's about to start purring himself.] Yes, he's really done those things. He hunts monsters. Saves princesses. And last time we were together in our world, he... [Well, he was blaming his entire life's problems on Jaskier, but that's not what he means.] He was helping a dragon save an egg. It's all very heroic, but. Listen. [He puts a very serious hand on her leg, leaning in as he whispers.] He thinks he's very rough and unheroic. Despite all my poetry. I simply let him believe it. He's large and equivalently an idiot, but his heart is gold.
no subject
[ Despite being completely blazed and very absorbed in just the feeling of his fur on her fingers, she looks at him with big doe eyes, seemingly fascinated by the conversation. It's the kind of stuff she literally only knows as being from fairytales and children's books, movies.
Idly, she wonders if it was a Chinese-style dragon or a European one. Ciri did not explain their version of dragons particularly well (to an idiot). ]
And you saw a dragon? I just think that's so wild. We don't got very much that big in my world. Just like, elephants and giraffes. The stories we got about dragons, they're all massive.
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That is very impressive, my dear.
[Nothing like his plants; her control over it is absolute, as far as he can tell. And delicate where it needs to be. Not a pulling of his hair, but a combing through it. Down his neck. Even with the distinct feeling of nails.
He begins leaning into her, attempting to return the touch at her thighs but knowing it was not near as good. A point to her, for sure.]
I -- [And there's the sore point. Thanks to his friend, he did not, in fact, see the dragon. Not the dragon as a dragon, only as a man. At least the dwarves were verbose with their descriptions.] He was quite large, for sure. But due to hunting and foolhardy knights, they dragons are a rare species. It's sad, really.
[He has no idea what on earth a giraffe is, but the mention of an elephant makes his brows raise.] You've seen an elephant? My, that must have been amazing itself! I've only heard tales of them from the far south. I saw a mammoth tusk once, though. On the hull of a ship.
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But yes, she absolutely uses it to... cook.
She curls up in the space next to him, feeling warm and heavy and good, and shit, she's gonna have to get up soon or she will straight up fall asleep at her own party, she realizes. Still, she is deeply enjoying talking to Jaskier. She is extremely curious about other worlds, and despite how much she likes him, Geralt is not exactly a font of information, and Ciri is more focused on asking about Julie's world. ]
Y'all got elephants too? They're not native to the place where I lived, but pretty much every zoo in the world has at least one of 'em. I know there are places where they ride 'em like horses, and they used to use 'em when there was war, too. They're real smart, like almost as smart as humans. We have laws to try and keep 'em safe, because people kill for the tusks. Ivory. [ Julie actually really likes animals, which is possibly why she finds the concept of real monsters so interesting.
With a sigh, her head drops to his shoulder and she runs her fingers (real ones) over the... paint? is it paint? the maybe-paint making swirls on his arm. ] I'm gonna have to get up soon, but I wanna spend time with you. Later. Another day.
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