video | unseelie

[extramural]

[ The locket, as always, is held up in mid-air when the Outsider turns it on. He is not alone in this recording, though; behind him are four women in long, gauzy black dresses and veils. With them are several children, eyes all black; the women are gently ushering them along the shore of the beach behind them while two massive dogs run back and forth.

In the distance is the black line of the Void, creeping over the ocean.

Next to the Outsider is another one of the children, and next to him the resemblance is clear: the same eyes, the same curious tilt to the head, the same bony cheeks. The child looks a bit more fey, but he sticks close to his sire, hands clutching to his arm. ]

Do not harm the children, [ the Outsider begins, and his voice is cold, shows every century of age and power. ] Do not harm the children or we will use your blood and bones, and you will be lucky if you are dead when we start.

[ A large palm smooths over the hair of his son. A daughter comes up on the other side, humming. She smiles at him and her teeth are sharp and red. The Outsider leans in so she can murmur in his ear. ]

Ah, yes. Should anyone find themselves with a need to desecrate shrines further -- the same warning applies to you. I will know, should you touch one of mine.

[ His daughter giggles and takes the hand of his son, and the two go to join the others. The Outsider watches, head half-turned. A seagull swoops down and perches on his shoulder, ruffles its wings, and the feed ends. ]

seelie; video; why this

[depicted]

[Oh, look, it's Dorian Gray! Everyone remembers Dorian Gray, right? Sweet kid, a little naive, recently got scolded at the royal audience? Well, today you wouldn't believe it, not from how very self-possessed he looks, how pleased, how utterly brazen.

One might think that someone who just got publicly called out and punished might feel more need to keep their head down and be discrete, but apparently not. Every actor needs an audience, and this actor, at least, seems to be particularly committed to enjoy the show he's putting on. Feline in recline, he speaks as one who savours language, gesturing in smooth, languid movements. He is the 1890s Aesthete come to life, in all its hedonistic glory, and he is here to share.]

How dreary we all are getting. It's the fin de siècle all over again, but with far less Oscar. Or Yeats, for that matter. [Suitably, mockingly dramatic:] "And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, / Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"

[And here's a scoff.] I'm not feeling it. We are meant to be the court of tradition, of love, of welcoming the apocalypse. And yet I haven't seen even one orgy in my time at Caer Glaem. Frankly, I'm unimpressed.

[The headshake turns back into that canary-eating smile, and he purrs out his proposal for fixing this shameful problem.]

So tonight, at the sun's setting, I'll be holding a, ah, ritual in the Magi's Workroom. Wine from Mandragora Estates—top of the line, for those tragically ignorant of the most up-and-coming vinery in the Drabwurld—and various other substances. Children not invited.

It's a protection ritual, for the record. It would be so very unsuitable to be decadently useless in our embrace of the End. Try to bring yourself as magically charged as you can.

[ooc: THERE WILL BE NO LOG FOR THIS I am not going to put up an actual orgy log dear god. But this a thing Dorian will really be doing, any character can come as long as they're over the age of consent. Wine, drugs, and sex, all night. Technically, it really is an actual magical ritual.]

oo2 ⊕ video ⊕ seelie ⊕ backdated a day or two idk

[falconkick]

Dude, why did no one tell me the High freakin' King of this joint is a black guy?

[ that's it, that's the post. ]