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)
abraxaslogs2022-10-29 09:01 pm
princessvegas) wrote in abraxaslogs2022-10-29 09:01 pm
Entry tags:
- altaïr ibn-la'ahad; the magician,
- cassandra de rolo; strength,
- cirilla of cintra; the devil,
- eddie munson; the devil,
- geralt of rivia; the hanged man,
- jack skellington; the fool,
- jaskier; the sun,
- jesper fahey; the wheel of fortune,
- jo harvelle; strength,
- julie lawry; the wheel of fortune,
- nadine cross; the world,
- steve harrington; the lovers
[ open ] This is Halloween, everybody make a scene
Julie has always thrown a good party. It was true in Kansas, it was true in Vegas, and it's true in the Horizon. And last year's party had been a smashing success by Julie's standards.
At that time.
See, the thing is, back then, Julie didn't understand exactly what she was capable of doing with the Horizon's powers. She had, without meaning to, limited herself to things that already made sense in the world she had previously known. But that's not the world she lives in anymore, and after a year of learning, she's ready to actually throw a Horizon-worthy party.
I | WAIT
For the vast majority of the Summoned, this will be the first time they've ever seen the pink neon that illuminates the edges of Julie's club go dark. The pink carpet and pink velvet ropes are gone; the big double doors are closed and locked. Those with keen eyes might notice that the door handles, normally in the shape of rising clouds of butterflies, are now swarms of bats. There is a small sign on a stand at the door.
All around the building, there's the loud, ominous sound of a grandfather clock's swinging pendulum, ticking toward an unknown time (well, it is known, as Julie sent out invitations). The wood of the doors bears long, ragged scratches, as if claws have been dragged down them. Thick fog gradually surrounds the building -- while not thick enough to obscure vision, it is nonetheless ominous and haunting.
The clock chimes nine o'clock; the sound is deafening. There is a long, pregnant pause, and just when it seems like nothing is going to happen, there is a sudden screech from above. An enormous, bulbous spider crawls atop the roof as if from the back, its body and legs so large and long that they span the building's width. It gives another great shriek as it leers down from the roof, fangs dripping, but it doesn't reach down from its perch. It remains above the crowd, menacingly.
At the same time, the doors burst open in an almost explosive manner, and the pounding music begins to pour out from within. More fog floats out of the foyer, carrying obscured green and orange light. The party has started.
II | CREEP
Walking through the front door, there are many details to be noticed, enough that it's easy to overlook most of them. The mist is a heavy blanket across the ground, thinning out for visibility only around waist-height. Where last year the theme was set in a barren forest, this year appears to be set in a massive, abandoned Victorian mansion. While the club maintains its normal shape from the outside, the inside is transformed to mimic long, winding hallways and spiraling staircases that seem to lead nowhere. The roof is high, in cathedral arches, and the fireplaces are dark. The walls and mantles bear various pieces of decoration: eerie black-and-white portraits in filthy frames, cracked vases full of dead flowers, jagged and broken sconces. Everything is covered in a vast, dusty coat of cobwebs, and the entire main hall must be traversed to reach the music that streams through the air.
Ignore the movements in the corner of your eyes. And be careful not to graze the walls -- lest you discover that the black pattern on the dark wallpaper is less of a pattern and more of an infestation.
Along the way, one might be inclined to open one of the many doors that line the halls and see what's inside. There are any number of strange scenes to find -- those familiar enough may recognize the haunting figures as Julie's clubgoers in costume. Interacting may have... unintended consequences.
Make it through the maze of haunted rooms and revolving doors, and you'll be rewarded by finding the ballroom.
III | PARTY
True to Julie form, the ballroom is fully decked out for only the wildest of parties. Spiderwebs stretch across the vaulted ceilings and between pillars, with lights hanging from their gossamer threads. Candles help illuminate by floating near the ceiling and around tables.
The bar, swapped for heavy Gothic design, is manned by Steven, as always. Despite being dressed as a white-eyed demon, he is as helpful as ever, and happy to make you whatever drink your heart desires. Two long tables flank the bar -- one boasts a huge variety of spooky snacks and bowls of candies, amongst other, more classic party dishes. The other holds vast quantities of... other goodies, should one be tempted to participate: bowls of pre-rolled joints and various pills, silver platters with small mountains of cocaine atop them, and even tiny canisters of whippits, for those with low tolerance. Be careful not to confuse the regular candies with their cannabis-infused counterparts.
The dance floor is large and lit in purple, orange and green. The music is loud enough to dance to, but not so loud that conversation is impossible. The resident partiers that weren't used to play roles in the scary scenes congregate here, in a wide assortment of random sexy costumes.
Hopefully, you've arrived in time to see Julie's grand entrance.
At that time.
See, the thing is, back then, Julie didn't understand exactly what she was capable of doing with the Horizon's powers. She had, without meaning to, limited herself to things that already made sense in the world she had previously known. But that's not the world she lives in anymore, and after a year of learning, she's ready to actually throw a Horizon-worthy party.
I | WAIT
For the vast majority of the Summoned, this will be the first time they've ever seen the pink neon that illuminates the edges of Julie's club go dark. The pink carpet and pink velvet ropes are gone; the big double doors are closed and locked. Those with keen eyes might notice that the door handles, normally in the shape of rising clouds of butterflies, are now swarms of bats. There is a small sign on a stand at the door.
All around the building, there's the loud, ominous sound of a grandfather clock's swinging pendulum, ticking toward an unknown time (well, it is known, as Julie sent out invitations). The wood of the doors bears long, ragged scratches, as if claws have been dragged down them. Thick fog gradually surrounds the building -- while not thick enough to obscure vision, it is nonetheless ominous and haunting.
The clock chimes nine o'clock; the sound is deafening. There is a long, pregnant pause, and just when it seems like nothing is going to happen, there is a sudden screech from above. An enormous, bulbous spider crawls atop the roof as if from the back, its body and legs so large and long that they span the building's width. It gives another great shriek as it leers down from the roof, fangs dripping, but it doesn't reach down from its perch. It remains above the crowd, menacingly.
At the same time, the doors burst open in an almost explosive manner, and the pounding music begins to pour out from within. More fog floats out of the foyer, carrying obscured green and orange light. The party has started.
II | CREEP
Walking through the front door, there are many details to be noticed, enough that it's easy to overlook most of them. The mist is a heavy blanket across the ground, thinning out for visibility only around waist-height. Where last year the theme was set in a barren forest, this year appears to be set in a massive, abandoned Victorian mansion. While the club maintains its normal shape from the outside, the inside is transformed to mimic long, winding hallways and spiraling staircases that seem to lead nowhere. The roof is high, in cathedral arches, and the fireplaces are dark. The walls and mantles bear various pieces of decoration: eerie black-and-white portraits in filthy frames, cracked vases full of dead flowers, jagged and broken sconces. Everything is covered in a vast, dusty coat of cobwebs, and the entire main hall must be traversed to reach the music that streams through the air.
Ignore the movements in the corner of your eyes. And be careful not to graze the walls -- lest you discover that the black pattern on the dark wallpaper is less of a pattern and more of an infestation.
Along the way, one might be inclined to open one of the many doors that line the halls and see what's inside. There are any number of strange scenes to find -- those familiar enough may recognize the haunting figures as Julie's clubgoers in costume. Interacting may have... unintended consequences.
Make it through the maze of haunted rooms and revolving doors, and you'll be rewarded by finding the ballroom.
III | PARTY
True to Julie form, the ballroom is fully decked out for only the wildest of parties. Spiderwebs stretch across the vaulted ceilings and between pillars, with lights hanging from their gossamer threads. Candles help illuminate by floating near the ceiling and around tables.
The bar, swapped for heavy Gothic design, is manned by Steven, as always. Despite being dressed as a white-eyed demon, he is as helpful as ever, and happy to make you whatever drink your heart desires. Two long tables flank the bar -- one boasts a huge variety of spooky snacks and bowls of candies, amongst other, more classic party dishes. The other holds vast quantities of... other goodies, should one be tempted to participate: bowls of pre-rolled joints and various pills, silver platters with small mountains of cocaine atop them, and even tiny canisters of whippits, for those with low tolerance. Be careful not to confuse the regular candies with their cannabis-infused counterparts.
The dance floor is large and lit in purple, orange and green. The music is loud enough to dance to, but not so loud that conversation is impossible. The resident partiers that weren't used to play roles in the scary scenes congregate here, in a wide assortment of random sexy costumes.
Hopefully, you've arrived in time to see Julie's grand entrance.
no subject
The only thing she had was this party, already in the works for weeks and weeks. It was as good as anything else to just sink into, to wrap her mind around and block out all the rest.
Julie also doesn't inherently distrust the Horizon the same way most others seem to. All of the worst effects had still been present in the real world -- the Horizon largely seemed to just be confused, routing them into wrong places. And she doesn't think that she would feel any better outside of it. If anything, she would feel much lonelier. She would rather be here, where she might run a risk of getting here, but knows she'll be fine once she does make it.
Either way, she does seem happy, if only because she's currently on several different drugs that she has custom designed to be all mood elevation with no other side effects. She hugs Ciri back with a wide smile. ]
Just peachy keen. [ She glances around -- while the spook and creep factor is high, there is a distinctive lack of death in her decorations and effects. Very much alive spiders are clearly the dominant theme, and most of the rest is predicated on being unsettling more than reminiscent of what many of them experienced recently. The illusory legs that poke out of her lips stretch eerily while she speaks. ] I mean, we gotta keep it normal. The more we let shit get to us, the worse it'll be each time.
no subject
[ Ciri scrunches up her nose, watching Julie talk. Her voice has laughter in it, though. ]
Is it meant to look like you've half-eaten a spider, and it's trying valiantly to crawl back out every other word?
You look like a kikimore fucked a siren. In a good (?) way, I mean. It's very striking!
no subject
[ Her head tilts to one side curiously, and even the legs pause for a moment. ] I don't know what a kikimore is. It's... spiders. It's 'sposed to be spiders. Like my whole body is full of 'em.
[ Helpfully, one of the larger spiders that are perched on her shoulders points to her nose with one leg. Another few tiny spiders crawl from her nostril. ]
no subject
Full of them!
[ Ciri repeats, letting out a little squeal when the spiders start coming out of Julie's nose. ]
Ew, Julie, that's so gross!
[ Says Ciri, who is always covered in some sort of gross monster goop or other. Hm. ]
Here. For your collection.
[ She puts out a hand, palm flat and facing up, and concentrates. A tiny version of an enormous beast appears, waving its front legs about. Ciri has decided this one is docile and won't bite or spit venom, and so it won't, but it still looks scary. Even though it's only about three inches across. ]
no subject
Ciri's reaction makes Julie cackle. That's so gross is a common refrain between the two of them, but usually it's coming the other way, because Ciri is often coated with or hauling around something disgusting, and she has less incentive to wash before visiting than some others. The tiny spiders, hardly more than specks, skitter across one cheek and into her ear. ]
That's Halloween! Creepy crawlies, nasties, all the good shit.
[ Ciri makes her a tiny kikimore and Julie coos with delight, her big blacked-out eyes reflecting the creature as she ducks her head to look at it. It's a strange little beast, like a spider and a crab and several other bugs all smooshed into one animal. It lifts its itty-bitty front legs at her, trying to intimidate her, and she loves it instantly. ]
C'mere, honey. [ She takes it from Ciri, holds it up and lets it clamber onto her shoulder. ] Lady sirens must be way hotter'n Jaskier looked last year, or else I'll be insulted.
no subject
Hm? I thought he was an incubus... or something. [ She's not sure. ]
Sirens usually have the body of a beautiful humanoid woman, down to the waist. Then a fishlike or serpentine lower half, and wings. Kind of like wyvern wings, not like bird wings.
no subject
Ohhh, that's right. He was a succubus. Back home, succubuses -- succubis? -- and sirens are both pretty women, but succubodes fuck dudes and eat their souls, and sirens sing so dudes crash their boats and then they eat... their souls? I'm not sure. I think sometimes they're like birds. [ Look, Julie is not an expert on creatures that, for her, didn't exist until last year. ] Wait, are you sayin' I look fishy?!
no subject
I meant the pretty lady bit of the siren, not the fish tail bit. You're the one covered in spiders. Spider-siren.
[ See? Logic. ]
no subject
[ She is like 85% sure that Earth sirens were not basically flying mermaids, but then she's also 100% sure that both were made up in her own world, so she's beginning to think this might be another case of dragon vs wyvern.
The kikimora crawls to the back of her neck, curls up under her hair at the nape. She doesn't make any move to stop it, just treats it the same as the other spiders. Once she sobers up a bit, she'll figure out a name for the little creature. ]
no subject
[ Ciri repeats, thoughtfully. She's not entirely sober, either (and if she were, Julie would surely take care of that as soon as possible). She nods. ]
Yes. Sorta. Mostly? Physically, at least.
Mermaids and mermen are intelligent, a race of humanoids who live underwater. Sirens are monsters, like drowners or ghouls, but easier on the eyes.
[ The explanation comes easily enough, but there's a buried sort of discomfort in the back of her mind discussing it. The line isn't always entirely clear-cut; she remembers that. But Julie asked, and she simply answers, rattling off the answer like she read in books. ]
Another term for sirens is nixae.
Like Nixie. My horse.
no subject
Shaking her head a little, she waves one hand dismissively and takes a drink. ]
Whatever. Either way, it's wrong. I'm queen of the spiders. All of 'em. Did you know people swallow about eight spiders a year in their sleep? That's a fact. [ It is not. ] Maybe I'll call 'em all back up everyone's throats for the grand finale.
[ Not that there is a grand finale planned. Julie knows better than anyone else that this party is designed to peter off as people either disappear to fuck, or pass out from sheer blood alcohol content.
And Julie is easily distracted. She glances around in the crowd, then turns back to Ciri with knit eyebrows. ] Did your soldier boy show his face yet?
no subject
[ Can it??
Ciri grimaces and sticks her tongue out. No thanks.
She takes the change of subject while also looking around, though he'd probably have said something instead of leaving her to randomly spot him. Her lips purse. ]
Not yet. He said he would come by later. I did tell him about it.
no subject
She peers over Ciri's shoulder while she looks around, and shrugs a bit. Takes a sip of her drink. It's hardly late, and Sephiroth is one of the few people Julie has ever even met that does have a strict, unyielding schedule to adhere to. It still weirds her out that he would choose to be part of the army here, but she assumes he must be off later. ]
No worries. I don't think the army here cares much about American holidays, so it ain't like he'd be able to sneak off early. He'll be here. And if he don't show, I'll make him regret standin' you up. So it'll be okay.
no subject
Don't worry. I'll make him regret it enough there won't be much left for you to shout at after.
...but he'll be here. I'm... quite sure.
[ She doesn't sound completely sure, but frankly, that's Alina's fault more than it is Sephiroth's. She and Alina had kissed for the first time at Julie's Halloween party last year. So much has changed in such a short amount of time. ]
no subject
[ Like the drunk mess she is, she wraps her arm around Ciri's shoulder, strokes her mane. Not as soft as the wolf tail, she notes to herself. Julie has never touched a lion, and therefore was unable to replicate the proper feeling when she made the costume.
Abandoning her drink on the table, she drops her hand and grabs Ciri's. ] C'mon, come dance with me.