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
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
Well, certainly. Though I hear they're more relegated to warfare, like you said, than, ah... private zoos. [Which is the only zoo he knows of. The nobility showing off their acquisitions. Rare animals from the south, from Zerrikania, some even claiming to have dragons or their mutant offspring, like cockatrices.
He was fascinated by this idea, and really, the more he thinks of it, the more it reflects the theory of the spheres. Perhaps they, too, suffered some sort of Conjunction, or a separation? That their planes could carry the same things, that words could mean the same... in some way, they must be related, musn't they?
Mm. The thoughts floated freely, and while they may have bothered him before, they were much easier to release into the ether now.]
People hunt them there, too. For ivory. I had no idea they were so intelligent, though.
[Without thought, his arm goes around her to hold her there, head tipped against the top of hers so he needn't hold it up so much.
He already knows he wouldn't mind that at all.]
I would be honored to grace your company once again. And, you know, if you see my wagon out in the Horizon, you're welcome to come aboard. I travel most of the time. Or -- ah. The vineyard. You can come see the vineyard.
[He has a feeling Julie would appreciate a nice bottle of wine.]
no subject
She chuckles, readjusts her head on his shoulder. ] Oh, I forgot, you're probably from before zoos. Like real ones. In my world, zoos are for... education, I guess? And helping keep animals from goin' extinct. But anyone can go visit, you just buy a ticket and you can see any animal. It's not some rich weirdo thing anymore, everyone goes. Sometimes you can feed the animals, or they do shows.
[ From what she has gathered in discussions with Geralt and Ciri, his group comes from a world that's not unlike hers was, in the past, but just also with real monsters and magic. But she assumes a lot of the societal stuff is similar, because the sole constant she's discerned from meeting everyone in Abraxas is that humans universally suck. Especially really rich ones. So she's sure that there's some asshole king with like, humans on display, and terrible taxidermy on the Continent.
She turns her face up to him, nose brushing his cheek, and she is sincerely charmed by the idea of a vineyard. Because yes, she loves a bottle of wine. ] You got a whole vineyard? That's so cool. Only thing I know about makin' wine is from I Love Lucy.
no subject
Is that what that means? How curious.
The thought comes, and then it's gone again. Ah, well.]
I should think I'd like to go to one of those. A zoo. I like animals. [It's a very serious assessment of his character, sort of mumbled as he turns over his hand and, like his bird, an illusion of a mammoth strides across his palm, throwing its trunk in the air.
Just for fun. It's so much easier here in the Horizon. Which -- right. He's here. In the Horizon.
The mammoth pops into a tiny burst of colorful specks, like her... her confetti.] Part of my domain. It's a bit of home. The only thing that's permanent. [He turns and casually kisses her forehead without thought.] And I must show you. We'll have wine and brie. I promise, they're as real as the good thing.
no subject
She reaches out toward the little mammoth, laughs when it explodes. Instead, she takes his hand, kisses his cheek in return. ] I'll come by soon. I'll... think at you tomorrow, I guess. Fuck, mind textin' is so weird. Good thing we can't send pictures, no one needs that shit.
no subject
We have parrots. And peacocks. I love peacocks. With the big tails.
[He's never seen a white one, though. Would it be as magnificent? Truthfully, she could grant him a robin and he would be delighted. He gives gifts often, but gifts in return are rather rare even in the Horizon, making them all the more precious.
He squeezes her hand, helping her sit up. He suspects if neither of them attempt to move for too long, they may spend all night here, piled on top of each other.] It's bizarre, for sure, but handy. You are welcome in my head at any time.
[And he agrees about the pictures. Especially if they were unconsciously sent. The horrors. He likes keeping his thoughts in his own head, thank you.
He gives her a kiss on each cheek, readjusting the silks around his loins that have slipped up a bit too high, revealing the fur really does go just about everywhere.] You should enjoy the end of your party, Julie. And have a very relaxing night afterwards.
[Speaking of gifts. He feels it's only fair he leaves her one. He rubs his fingers together and produces a small glass bottle with a glass stopper, a liquid inside that nearly matches the pink of her hair. Stopper lifted, it has the smell of mint, sage, and roses.] A bath oil I used to make at home for myself. I imagine a relaxing soak at the end of the night would be a treat.
no subject
[ She doesn't respond to his concern, lets that just hang in the air. It's not worth talking about right now, not worth letting the memories try to creep back in from the edges of her muddled mind. Not when she can focus on him and the party instead. She lets him pull her up, and when he makes the little bottle for her, explains it, she squeals happily. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kisses his cheek back a few times in rapid succession, giggling the whole time. ]
Thank you, sugar! That's so sweet. I'll see you real soon, you just let me know if there's anything else you want while you're at the party. And you can come back anytime too, even if I ain't here. I'll leave all your music in the karaoke machine.
no subject
Besides, how could the mood feel low when she appears so thrilled with the gift?
He laughs, surprised, but far from displeased. Gods, that's definitely the best reaction he's gotten for a gift so far. He gives her a squeeze back. My, she must really have needed a relaxing bath.]
I think I have everything I could need, thank you. But I will absolutely be sure to visit again.
[Even if there's no party, he would love to know more. To settle in someone else's space is one of his favorite experiences in the Horizon. And beside that, Julie is wonderful company.
He gives her one more kiss on the cheek before heading off to find Geralt. Now he gets it. Why Geralt was taken with her, too.]