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taxonomites2010-03-04 12:00 am
deadmanbrucolac.livejournal.com) wrote in taxonomites2010-03-04 12:00 am
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[ Location : The Uroc ] [Open RP for folks on a boat :3]
The Uroc may be safe, but it hardly cozy. While the outside of the ship glimmers with an odd nacre, it is very dark inside, and the nonsense-topography of random masts, spires, decks, windows and balustrades that pepper its circular bulk hint at the odd warren of passsages inside it. The Brucolac does not lead his guests very far inside, at first. He gathers them on the inverted deck that hangs at the lowest point of the ship, built around an anchor chain as thick as a tree trunk. Then, as a group, they go up a staircase and into her guts, down endless curving hallways and up spiral staircases. As he walks, he turns on gas lamps set in intervals along the walls, leaving a trail of visibility through the otherwise pitch-black space.
At one point, the passageway opens out onto a walkway over a silver cistern that yawns stories deep, brightly, blindingly illuminated by a softly-rippling lake of white moonlight. More light trickles in, collected from its masts and poured through artery-like channels throughout the ship to collect here in this hold. The vampire offers no explanation for this phenomenon, and simply leads them back into blackness and the gentler, buttery light of the wall sconces.
Not long after, the group comes to a suite of rooms that branch off a central lounge. There's a large round window here, giving everyone their first glimpse of the outside since leaving the deck. From its angle, they are in the Uroc's upper hemisphere - odd, as there weren't that many stairs. Their host opens the center panel of the window and begins pulling sheets off furniture, sending clouds of dust whistling out into the night. This room and the bedrooms leading off of it aren't particularly large, but the furnishings that emerge are rich and eclectic, if dusty and little-used. Low couches of soft brocade, wing chairs made out of some kind of soft leather, small stone tables, a desk and a number of glass bookcases (only a few volumes in English) decorate walls. The beds are covered in what looks like un-dyed, brushed silk. There's nothing on any of the walls except for a large oil painting in the lounge of a woman with a mischievous grin and a bee the size of a kitten cupped in one hand. There is a hatch, and the wall around it reveals the first signs of disorder, of life - they are cracked and clawed, as if someone ripped the hatch out of the wall not long ago.
"Please make yourselves comfortable. I've got hatches to batten down, so to speak, but raise your voices and I will hear you."
[OOC: OKAY I AM GOING TO SLEEP NOW. Please feel free to fuck around in the moonship as you like, everyone who is coming and going - it's sortof like a giant cruise ship meets a gothic/victorian mansion meets Howl's Moving Castle. HAVE FUN, I'll be with you in the AM!]
At one point, the passageway opens out onto a walkway over a silver cistern that yawns stories deep, brightly, blindingly illuminated by a softly-rippling lake of white moonlight. More light trickles in, collected from its masts and poured through artery-like channels throughout the ship to collect here in this hold. The vampire offers no explanation for this phenomenon, and simply leads them back into blackness and the gentler, buttery light of the wall sconces.
Not long after, the group comes to a suite of rooms that branch off a central lounge. There's a large round window here, giving everyone their first glimpse of the outside since leaving the deck. From its angle, they are in the Uroc's upper hemisphere - odd, as there weren't that many stairs. Their host opens the center panel of the window and begins pulling sheets off furniture, sending clouds of dust whistling out into the night. This room and the bedrooms leading off of it aren't particularly large, but the furnishings that emerge are rich and eclectic, if dusty and little-used. Low couches of soft brocade, wing chairs made out of some kind of soft leather, small stone tables, a desk and a number of glass bookcases (only a few volumes in English) decorate walls. The beds are covered in what looks like un-dyed, brushed silk. There's nothing on any of the walls except for a large oil painting in the lounge of a woman with a mischievous grin and a bee the size of a kitten cupped in one hand. There is a hatch, and the wall around it reveals the first signs of disorder, of life - they are cracked and clawed, as if someone ripped the hatch out of the wall not long ago.
"Please make yourselves comfortable. I've got hatches to batten down, so to speak, but raise your voices and I will hear you."
[OOC: OKAY I AM GOING TO SLEEP NOW. Please feel free to fuck around in the moonship as you like, everyone who is coming and going - it's sortof like a giant cruise ship meets a gothic/victorian mansion meets Howl's Moving Castle. HAVE FUN, I'll be with you in the AM!]
no subject
"I'm okay," Juliet replies once she's opened her eyes again. Her smile widens, and she tucks her hair behind her ear before continuing. "J-just... kind of uncomfortable, h-here. I don't trust th-the colors."
no subject
"We'll be fine. I know it's kind of weird, but the Brucolac seems like--he won't let anything happen to us on his ship." She's not actually sure of this, but it seems like the right kind of lie to tell.