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!
A mask he was now going to delightedly show off to Faye.
"What do you think?"
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"She made it magnetic." There was an accompanying hand gesture to indicate magic, though not the same one used for Grogu doing space magic. "So it would fit with mine. I'm glad you like it."
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She had no idea. Maybe it would! Magic was neat but also didn't seem like she should just intrinsically trust it, either. (Faye didn't intrinsically trust most things, though.)
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"Magnets shouldn't do anything harmful," he said. "I don't think you need to worry."
He appreciated that she did, though, and reached up to cover her hand with his own and give it a gentle squeeze.
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She liked the fireflies a lot. And also the maybe magical cocktails.
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Faye, please don't try and take on someone known as The Destroyer. It could only end badly.
"It's all beautiful," he said, looking up at the false sky again. "I like it." And he hadn't even had any maybe magical drinks yet.
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"I didn't know people could do stuff like this," Faye admitted, gesturing to the ceiling. "I mean, I guess I knew about magic? But I've never seen it like this."
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Did they always have a starry sky instead of a ceiling? Could he have that?
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Spoiler: she would also want to go to all their parties if they didn't.
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In case she needed someone to stumble home with. And because it was an excuse to do something with her.
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Someone had accepted his fate as an accessory to petty theft.
"I usually have pockets." The leather pants didn't leave much room for ill gotten gains but everything else he owned ought to have room.
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"We do know most of the people here," he said, pulling back slightly. "It might not be the best place for filling pockets."