ph_logs | (no subject)

Who: Sheogorath and you!
What: The grand opening of the strange new business in town
When: Late August onward
Where: The most asymmetrical building in town
Warning(s): Discussion of surgical procedure, sutures, needles

The building is quite a sight, one half more Queen Anne and the other Italianate. Hanging evenly between the two entrances is a sign, one side reading "St Arden-Sul Surgery" and the other reading "Butterfly's Fang Salon." There are two doors on the same face of the building, one solid, the other ornamented with windows in the shape of eyes and flower petals.

Should one enter the eastern door (the one on the left), they will find themselves in a clinic. The entrance is warm and inviting, and the patient beds look quite comfortable. There are flowers on the bedside table, and the lighting is warm. A colorful stained glass window takes up a large part of the eastern wall.

That feeling shifts completely at around the halfway point of the room, where the place becomes cold and austere. These 'beds' are barely more than surgical slabs, and the floor already seems bloodstained, despite there not having been any patients yet. In the corner, there's a bust of a person screaming in agony. Another window set into the wall looks dusty and grimy despite being new, letting only a little light trickle in.

Entering through the western door will lead one into a charming... and daunting... parlor. A few chairs are lined up against the wall, reclined for the comfort of the patrons. Again, the decor is colorful towards the front of the shop. There are bright, hand-drawn illustrations lining the walls and patterned tiles decorating the floor. The back of the parlor, on the other hand, is ornamented with chains and leather while the floor is rough, gray stone.

For the purpose of the grand opening, the patterned wooden divider that separates the two businesses has been partially pulled back, allowing the two sides to glimpse one another.

Sheogorath is drifting from one side to the other, greeting guests and offering them tea. He's dressed quite smartly, looking much more dapper gent than pure element of chaos. His eyes are what betray his unfettered excitement, their being a kaleidoscopic shimmer of purple and gold.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Daedric Prince's smile is not unlike a vampire's, so even if it shouldn't be, it's a comforting expression to see. Max's expression, by comparison, lights up with a powerful hunger as soon as he's offered that extra touch.

"Yes. I'd like that very much. I can take the pain, I promise. Will it be like... like a magical spell woven into the mark?"

“The work will go deeper into your tissue, and the lines will be formed from inscriptions, woven together to form a solid marking. It won’t have any impact on your mobility or your after-care, but those words will contain power. Magic, you could call it.”

Implying that you could also call it something other than magic…

Max thinks on that for a moment. When it comes to magic, he's not the most knowledgeable, but he does know better than to sign agreements he hasn't heard all the terms of.

"Is there a downside? Some... way it could hurt me or them if the magic goes wrong?"

"Oh, it could certainly hurt you. It's an affirmation of love, after all, and love is far from a painless thing if it's real and true. Think of it as letting your heart's spirit speak to your heart's flesh. Heartbreak will become agony. Fear for a loved one will send actual chills running through you. And the strength you muster out of love will become far more than emotional fortitude."

That vampire's smile crosses his face yet again.

"You are the sort of mortal that wears your heart on your sleeve, Max Maximum. What this is is a realization of that. Nothing hidden, nothing insidious, just an unfiltered truth sown in the earth and let to grow in the light of day."

The innocent part of him wants to argue 'Love isn't painful!' He can't, because he knows there's nothing more agonizing than watching the person he loves suffer. It's an ache so terrible it feels like it could pick him apart. It might be a relief, in some ways, if it became a real physical pain instead of an invisible one that merely rends his mind.

"One day I hope maybe I can be more than mortal so it can last longer, but this feels right. Please, I want this with all my heart."

"Then your heart will have what it asks for. Now, make yourself comfortable. I'm going to make another pot of tea before we get started. Endeavors like this require a proper few cups."