Margo Hanson (
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: Arrive and Say Hi
Re: Arrive and Say Hi
For values of 'run' that 'blah blah there's basically no crime here blah', yes.
Re: Arrive and Say Hi
Re: Arrive and Say Hi
"Iris's old place," he nodded. "Sticking to the lotion and bath stuff?" he asked. Yes, he knew about the unadvertised part of the business.
Re: Arrive and Say Hi
She knew about the unadvertised part, too. She just wanted to know how many of these people were stupid enough to mention it out loud to a near-stranger. She lifted an eyebrow.
Re: Arrive and Say Hi
Poisons and the like absolutely counted as self-care… from a certain point of view.
Re: Arrive and Say Hi
Re: Arrive and Say Hi
“Maybe I’ll drop by sometime and you can show me what’s what, then.”