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
For obvious reasons, she finds it hard to believe that anyone is capable of subverting these things. God and the Singularity, they're forces outside of the realm of humans, of Witchers, they can't be stopped.
Nor does she know how long she can stay away from the Singularity. At this moment, she has no real desire to get near it, due to the cacophony it sets off inside her head. But already, she's started to feel the pull. She thinks it misses her. And she misses it. She'll be drawn back sooner rather than later.
No matter what any of them want or think, she is somehow linked to the Singularity. Whether or not she sits with it, talks to it, the connection is there. And she doesn't want to sever it. Who would willingly give it up? She has the most important entity in the entire universe all to herself. ]
Hey. [ She's still watching him. He doesn't have much of a poker face, at least not to her -- what he doesn't say in words, he usually writes clear across his expression, whole volumes. Gently, she brushes back the hair at his temple, crossing her calf over his. ] I'm okay. I'll stay away from it. It ain't your responsibility to solve this whole mystery. We're all right, all of us.
no subject
Truthfully, there probably wasn't. Whether he'd admit it or not. He's never been especially good at walking away.
He releases a breath. ]
Mm. I know. [ They are all right. He doesn't want to worry her, either, with his uncertainties, his concerns. She has enough on her mind. ] Get some sleep.
[ He sleeps rarely, personally, inside the Horizon. Usually when he's deeply fucking tired. His ease within this place only extends so far. More often, when he lingers, it's to watch over her instead. ]
no subject
But then she remembers the strength of the want, the heaviness of the Singularity's consciousness against her own, and she knows there must be something they can do.
With a soft noise, she runs her thumb over the stitch in his brow, smooths it out. She knows he's right, that she should sleep -- she is already fully aware that once she allows herself to rest for even a moment, she will be out cold for quite some time. She's exhausted, both mentally from controlling the party, and physically from him. Still, she doesn't let her eyes close all the way yet. ]
You're allowed to rest too. [ She knows he doesn't usually, but maybe this is an occasion where sleep is the better option. Her voice is playful. ] At least don't stew all night, or I'll have to tell everyone what a party animal you actually are under that scowl.
[ She lightly presses her lips to his for a second and then tucks her head under his chin. Her eyes close and she sighs just before she feels her mind start to go dark with sleep. ] G'night, my wolf.