Margo Hanson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
not_a_goddamn_princess) wrote2021-10-22 01:59 pm
not_a_goddamn_princess) wrote2021-10-22 01:59 pm
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MASQUERADE PARTY, 33 Apocalypse Ave, Friday Evening
Party night. The best of nights. An ornate sign on 33 Apocalypse’s door invited all to knock and make themselves known.
The space inside was bigger than it looked from the outside, stretched and displaced by magic. The wallpaper was green and textured, hinting at the English countryside. On one side of the room sat a significant bar offering food and drinks, while the other gave ample space to sit. A large Jenga tower held prominence in a corner.
It was easy to miss it, though, in favor of the little streams of water that ran across furniture and floor. Tiny glass gondolas, animated by magic, made their way back and forth across each stream. The gondolas were real, though the water itself was an illusion. It called attention to the ceiling, doubly enchanted: both to draw all cigarette smoke to itself so it wouldn’t blow in anyone’s face, but also to mimic the starry sky above Venice.
You could watch the stars twinkle, or see the occasional cloud go by. Magical fireflies added to the illusion, dancing through the air like tiny lights. If you listened closely, you could hear the sea rolling in across an invisible beach. Even the air smelled faintly of it: the sea, warm food and good wine.
Welcome to Eliot and Margo’s pad, people. They’d make damn sure you had a good time.
[ocd up, come party!]
The space inside was bigger than it looked from the outside, stretched and displaced by magic. The wallpaper was green and textured, hinting at the English countryside. On one side of the room sat a significant bar offering food and drinks, while the other gave ample space to sit. A large Jenga tower held prominence in a corner.
It was easy to miss it, though, in favor of the little streams of water that ran across furniture and floor. Tiny glass gondolas, animated by magic, made their way back and forth across each stream. The gondolas were real, though the water itself was an illusion. It called attention to the ceiling, doubly enchanted: both to draw all cigarette smoke to itself so it wouldn’t blow in anyone’s face, but also to mimic the starry sky above Venice.
You could watch the stars twinkle, or see the occasional cloud go by. Magical fireflies added to the illusion, dancing through the air like tiny lights. If you listened closely, you could hear the sea rolling in across an invisible beach. Even the air smelled faintly of it: the sea, warm food and good wine.
Welcome to Eliot and Margo’s pad, people. They’d make damn sure you had a good time.
[ocd up, come party!]
Re: Mingle!
Re: Mingle!
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...but Summer would take it.
"Whatever," asked Summer, with maybe a touch of dramatics, although, no, please, don't stop, she was eating this up like ice cream with flies in it, "will you do? You seem to be surviving pretty okay, though."
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"It's probably still going to be a while," she then admitted apologetically. "Things are getting off to kind of a slow start, but there's still progress, you know? Honestly, it's kind of a good thing, because if we were a little more into the thick of it, I probably wouldn't be able to get away like this. But, also, again, I'm just going to emphasize that you should really just look into more hobbies. Have you tried yago? And you're old," look, she missed making super obvious old people jokes at him, "so maybe there's a good bocce ball league on the mainland you could join or something."
SHE MISSED YOU, LUCIFER. THIS WAS HOW SHE SHOWED IT OKAY?
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Since that was another full day and evening he had to spend thinking about how he was just killing time...
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Like.....
"What about that whole God thing?" she asked.
Because, well, if he was going to bring up callings, where else was her brain supposed to go?
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And closed it.
And.
"It's complicated," he said helplessly. "And I'm not drunk enough."
It would require a lot more wine and private time to get that whole... everything... out of him.
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...but she couldn't really blame him for not having one better.
Yet.
He really probably needed to get that shit figured out soon, though.
"I don't think you'll ever really be drunk enough for that one," she allowed, "and I don't mean because you can't really ever get drunk, either."
So she sighed, folded her arms in front of her for a moment, and considered him a moment before shaking her head, because, really, if the whole Figuring the God Thing Out wasn't exactly on the table...
"Pottery classes?" she offered instead.
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"I tried them a few centuries ago," Lucifer said. "It's nothing like they do in 'Spirit' and certainly not as fun." Beat. "Perhaps I should ask your boyfriend to make me more alcohol."