blindwatchersees (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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ph_logs2025-01-13 08:11 pm
blindwatchersees) wrote in ph_logs2025-01-13 08:11 pm
A Surprise Party for Dahlia [Closed]
Who: Sheogorath and Dahlia
What: A party for a Prince
When: Beginning of January
Where: Dahlia's place
Warnings: Distortions of reality, cannibalism (in jest)
Dahlia was likely not expecting to come home to find space stretched and contorted in such a fashion across her living space, the whole place bedecked in banners and occupied by flickering, multicolored silhouettes, all seemingly dressed for a party. Set out nearby is a spread of very real food, none of it people. And among the milling figures is one who is solid, dressed in his purple regalia and surrounded by the entourage of butterflies that always seem to be following him at formal events- albeit in a diminished number, probably as a result of the season.
"Ah! At last, the guest of honor has arrived! Tell me, your highness, what sort of heraldry did you want on the banners? I started putting them up, and then I realized I don't know what your symbol is."
He's got a box clutched in one hand. At first glance it's nothing special, no larger than a typical snuffbox, but it's on second glance that Dahlia might feel something- not amiss, but not aright either. Like a psychic itch, emanating from a psychic scab. It's not a threat, but...
What: A party for a Prince
When: Beginning of January
Where: Dahlia's place
Warnings: Distortions of reality, cannibalism (in jest)
Dahlia was likely not expecting to come home to find space stretched and contorted in such a fashion across her living space, the whole place bedecked in banners and occupied by flickering, multicolored silhouettes, all seemingly dressed for a party. Set out nearby is a spread of very real food, none of it people. And among the milling figures is one who is solid, dressed in his purple regalia and surrounded by the entourage of butterflies that always seem to be following him at formal events- albeit in a diminished number, probably as a result of the season.
"Ah! At last, the guest of honor has arrived! Tell me, your highness, what sort of heraldry did you want on the banners? I started putting them up, and then I realized I don't know what your symbol is."
He's got a box clutched in one hand. At first glance it's nothing special, no larger than a typical snuffbox, but it's on second glance that Dahlia might feel something- not amiss, but not aright either. Like a psychic itch, emanating from a psychic scab. It's not a threat, but...