DEATH (pale_as) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-10-31 15:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | abigar, absinthe, achilles, agrat bat mahlat, allegra lenkeit, amphitrite, apollo, arachne, artemis, baba yaga, belphegor, britannia, cassandra, chastity, comfort food, death, divorce, eisheth zenunim, ekho, elpis, famine, forseti, gabriel, goth, greed, heavy metal, hecate, lady luck, legal services, lilith, litigation, lust, naamah, nephthys, pandora, paparazzi, peer pressure, poseidon, raum, raven, remiel, rosier, satan, set, thalia, the moirae, triton, uncle sam, urania |
Who: The American Gods and immortal co. (and Allegra)
What: Death's Halloween party
When: All Hallows' Eve
Where: Death's yacht, Yair
The main deck had a card table with a sheet over it, outfitted for decorating cookies in the shape of bats and crescent moons with orange and black and purple icing.
The rest was decadent, it was luxurious, it was a reflection of the kind of power that Death only had on this one, day of days. No matter the commercialization of it all, this eve was All Hollows' Eve, and it belonged to him. If Death's heavenly acquaintances had expected a night of fun and frolic, they would be disappointed, and if the Hellish fiends who knew him had expected garish displays of blood and mess and muck, so would they. But the heathens, oh, they would be most satisfied. While the exterior of Death's vessel was white and pristine, one only had to walk through the doors inside from the deck to find an interior that could only have been designed by a three-armed succubus on a three-week ammonia bender. The walls were more black than they should have been able, no light reflected from them, giving the main ballroom a hellish, infinite quality. The floor was the same color, tricking the eye and confounding the mind. Of course, the gods would not have difficulty navigating such decoration. The Saints were everywhere, their portraits hung from every wall, their images sideways, upside down, torn, splattered and all of the like. Chains were shoved into every available nook and cranny, the sound of a lyre wafted from the walls, occasionally snapping out of tune and into some strange noise that was reminiscent of music, but not quite.
The dining, catered by Masque and refreshed by Death's own coffers, was exquisite, as well, and offered in a vast dining room that seemed to large to actually fit inside the size of the yacht. There was trickery at work, oh yes, And perhaps it was a bit discerning, but who would pay mind to physics when there was thick Persian wine and dinner fit for a king to be had? The dining hall was fitted with long tables, covered in thick white tablecloths with primordial darkness woven whole-cloth into them. Candles were set upon every crevice, and a few that didn't seem to actually exist, but held the glittering flames nonetheless. The servers for the meal were golem; great stone-gray hulking figures with the moon for eyes and though the word "met" for death was carved into their foreheads, they continued to walk and move and serve the meal on their silver platters.
The final destination for guests (or the first, if they so chose) was in the lower level of the vessel, a room even larger than the dining room or the main room, outfitted with a smattering of lights on the ceiling that almost-but-didn't-quite illuminate the dancers in the darkness. The lights cast strange shadows on the walls, reminiscent of primordial things that had walked and lurched and crept along the cooling earth in its first days. The music was wordless, deafening in volume, and the only indication of where it came from was that the walls on the north side happened to shake to the pump of the base a little more violently than the rest.
All in all, Death thought as he sipped his wine in the Captain's quarters, it was a good show.