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
Something to be examined later.]
I can be very poetic, when I want.
[God knows she's read enough of the romantic era offerings in her teen and college years. But it's hard to think about that, when Jaskier's fingers breech the feeble last defense of her underthings. It hasn't really been that long since she was touched, a couple of weeks maybe, but it doesn't matter. Something had awoken in her, that first night in the desert, a craving for physical pleasure she'd never known she had the capacity for.
And Jaskier is good. She doesn't know if it's the drugs or just the novelty, but it already feels like he's working her body with a skilled knowledge. She gasps against his mouth and twitches against his exploratory fingers, wanting more with a fierceness that almost frightens her.]
no subject
The sounds. Oh, yes. The sounds. Not to be a musician about it all, but... it's still his favorite sort of music.
His lips move to her shoulder, kissing and nipping lightly with his teeth as a third finger joins the other two, coaxing a little more wetness out of her. It must be the herbs that makes the sensation so -- so much. Even just his fingers, buzzing with heat, and the heat is traveling up his arms. The weight of her shifts against him just right, and it's not only her making a noise.]
no subject
She clutches at him, one hand gripping one of his curved horns, the other burying itself in his hair.]
You're wonderful.
[The words tumble out amid eager pants and gasps. Her hips jerk against his hand, nerves all along her thighs and loins and abdomen singing with sensation. God but she wants him. She's wanted so few men in her life but all that matters here and now is Jaskier, beneath her and bringing her to higher ledges of arousal.]
no subject
And it's working. The heat of her closes around him as he strokes with a hint more rhythm, pushing deeper inside. Heat, mixing with the scent of sex already heavy in the air -- it all swirls about in his head. He's hard, more than wanting, and the bite of his nails into her hip with his other hand is not at all conscious. He's merely holding out, now.
His heart sings out to those words. You're wonderful.] Shall I keep going? [A glint on his eye as he draws his fingers out, one by one.] I can give you more than a few fingers.
no subject
You know what I want.
[The rich huskiness of her voice and the firmness near-demand of the words surprises her. Some dim part of her is aware she's rarely like this in bed, so used to either approaching it as a tedious chore or being a passive partner. It's thrilling to think she has control, and not over some sniveling pawn that messed his pants the second he touched her breast.
She honestly isn't sure if it's the drugs or Jaskier himself that's bringing it out, but she doesn't care. She wants him and her body needs him and she thinks that in this moment he might do almost anything she asked. She kisses him again, fiercely, and reaches down with the hand not wrapped around his horn to hook in the waistband of her panties to draw them down and off.]
no subject
And certainly it feels like one.
Doesn't he? He knows well, all of this, but particularly there is something that flows in his veins now which grants him some extra knowledge of her. Understanding of that tone in her voice, the darkness in it; what it means that the grip on his horn changes. It doesn't feel like the first time with her, or the first time here; it's the confidence found with a lover touched so many times before, eager to see her completion again.]
As my lady so eagerly desires.
[He purrs the words, dragging his palms over the naked, smooth skin of her thighs. He only watches her undressing, fascination open in his eyes and in his parted, swollen lips. Too quickly the sight vanishes as she leans down, yet he meets this kiss eagerly. It's all tongue and heat that sinks down into his very bones.
Wonderful he still has the experience now, to use one hand to guide himself to her, the other to take her hip, pulling it down in encouragement. Meeting together with the slightest angle, a sharp intake of his breath. Jaskier's hips rise to meet hers as he sinks inside, until the heat is enveloping and he's taking over the next kiss with a bruising intensity.]
no subject
Nadine is not a stranger to the act. In those brief months when she and Flagg could physically be together, they had been. As often as time and her own energy allowed. This is not a new experience...and yet somehow it is. The broad strokes are all the same but the details...The touch of Jaskier's skin, the scent of him, the barely explored geography of his body...even the shape of his lips against her own and the feel of him inside of her.
All of it somehow exciting and new.
She moans aloud into his mouth, returning the kiss just as brutally. She moves on top of him, hands coming to rest against his chest to steady herself. The fur of his legs brushes against her own thighs in a surprisingly enjoyable fashion, only adding to the overall pleasure of the encounter. Her skin feels alive everywhere there bodies meet, and in between those places it's like a network of sparks traveling under her skin, pulsing and flaring with each stroke and press of Jaskier's cock.]
no subject
The moans they mix together. The wet of a kiss.
The coiling heat in his belly that tightens and tightens, until he can barely say her name through it. (He does love saying names, though. The way they are all different. To remind his love who they're with. And simply for the beauty of it, when a body can barely catch a breath, to still want to say so simple a thing.)
His hands move across her with each stroke -- a breast, or up her arm, or moving back to hold her hips. It builds, the air tightening in the room. (Horizon magic? Perhaps.) There is no louder sound than the heartbeat in his ears, even if the music of the club is still so obviously thumping around them, outside them. Out there. And when he comes, it's with a shudder and a moan, his nails biting her the bare skin of her hips.
There's little bursts in his eyes, like stars. Fitting. Bright white, like the rest of her. Bright as stars.]