[ Persephone spends almost every moment of FanPort in her exhibition booth. Whether by her own magic, or the magic of her record company's money, her booth is made in a beautiful replica of a subterranean cathedral. Her throne at the far end is (or at least seems to be) carved from obsidian, and behind her is the dark, growling miasma of her hellhounds.
Snaking out of her booth is a long, long line of fans. At the wrong times of day, signs indicate that it's more than a two hour wait to see her. One or two at a time, the attendees are let in by security to approach her throne. Some brief, quiet words are exchanged, and then she directs them to kneel in front of her, at which point she will bend forward to whisper something into their ear. Reaction are mixed, but collapsing is common, screaming or fits of hyperventilation are as well. The stricken fan is then lead again by a staff member to a private grotto where a dozen or so certified therapy dogs have been put in cerberuscostumes.
But no one, even those who were willing to camp out early, or wait for hours when the line is at its longest, can say what, exactly, they are all waiting to hear from her. ]
"Persephone's blessing? They're messages from dead loved ones."
"I heard she tells you how you're going to die."
"I heard she's telling people what'll happen to them after they die. And how to get out of it."
[ But hey, come in at the right times and the lines only 20 or so minutes. Maybe it's worth it to see what the big deal is . . . ? ]
ARTISTS' ALLEY
[ Busy as she is with her own booth, Persephone still takes advantage of those precious few hours when the expo hall is closed but AA remains open. She mostly wanders in silence, making the poor artists sweat bullets until their work is given the tiniest nod of her head.
There are, however, a number of pinup artists and purveyors of other raunchy work, just wishing that they'd get her stony silence. ]
No, no, I'm curious about your process here. Seems that nipples visible through shirts is a prominent theme in your work. What made you decide to draw the tits this way? Literally just curious.
[ She's smiling pleasantly and leaning in to the poor bastard's space. The artist stammers about "just for fun" and "it's what sells" and "it doesn't mean anything." She raises an eyebrow and waits for them to continue. ]
THE RAVE
[ Hell yeah Persephone's at the Rave. She is there and dancing from the moment it opens until everyone's kicked out. Because duh.
She doesn't take up any offer to jam, just letting the locals provide the sound for once. But there are a few times when she can't help but take up the spotlight with her dancing. ]
HOTEL PARTY
[ But as R. Kelly has told us, after the show is the after party. Despite being in the wee hours that the rave ends, it's a reasonably-sized entourage that follows Persephone across the street to her own hotel. They head straight for the lounge, losing anyone without a fake ID underaged. Once there, and all present are slumped into the plush booths of the lounge, the alcohol keeps flowing.
No one's too rowdy at this point, least of all Persephone herself. It's been a long day; she's distributed personal blessings to hundreds of people and then partied for hours. She's uncharacteristically sedate and sated as she pokes at her beautiful tuna tartare and over-priced cocktail. ]
Persephone - all prompts OTA
[ Persephone spends almost every moment of FanPort in her exhibition booth. Whether by her own magic, or the magic of her record company's money, her booth is made in a beautiful replica of a subterranean cathedral. Her throne at the far end is (or at least seems to be) carved from obsidian, and behind her is the dark, growling miasma of her hellhounds.
Snaking out of her booth is a long, long line of fans. At the wrong times of day, signs indicate that it's more than a two hour wait to see her. One or two at a time, the attendees are let in by security to approach her throne. Some brief, quiet words are exchanged, and then she directs them to kneel in front of her, at which point she will bend forward to whisper something into their ear. Reaction are mixed, but collapsing is common, screaming or fits of hyperventilation are as well. The stricken fan is then lead again by a staff member to a private grotto where a dozen or so certified therapy dogs have been put in cerberus costumes.
But no one, even those who were willing to camp out early, or wait for hours when the line is at its longest, can say what, exactly, they are all waiting to hear from her. ]
"Persephone's blessing? They're messages from dead loved ones."
"I heard she tells you how you're going to die."
"I heard she's telling people what'll happen to them after they die. And how to get out of it."
[ But hey, come in at the right times and the lines only 20 or so minutes. Maybe it's worth it to see what the big deal is . . . ? ]
ARTISTS' ALLEY
[ Busy as she is with her own booth, Persephone still takes advantage of those precious few hours when the expo hall is closed but AA remains open. She mostly wanders in silence, making the poor artists sweat bullets until their work is given the tiniest nod of her head.
There are, however, a number of pinup artists and purveyors of other raunchy work, just wishing that they'd get her stony silence. ]
No, no, I'm curious about your process here. Seems that nipples visible through shirts is a prominent theme in your work. What made you decide to draw the tits this way? Literally just curious.
[ She's smiling pleasantly and leaning in to the poor bastard's space. The artist stammers about "just for fun" and "it's what sells" and "it doesn't mean anything." She raises an eyebrow and waits for them to continue. ]
THE RAVE
[ Hell yeah Persephone's at the Rave. She is there and dancing from the moment it opens until everyone's kicked out. Because duh.
She doesn't take up any offer to jam, just letting the locals provide the sound for once. But there are a few times when she can't help but take up the spotlight with her dancing. ]
HOTEL PARTY
[ But as R. Kelly has told us, after the show is the after party. Despite being in the wee hours that the rave ends, it's a reasonably-sized entourage that follows Persephone across the street to her own hotel. They head straight for the lounge, losing anyone
without a fake IDunderaged. Once there, and all present are slumped into the plush booths of the lounge, the alcohol keeps flowing.No one's too rowdy at this point, least of all Persephone herself. It's been a long day; she's distributed personal blessings to hundreds of people and then partied for hours. She's uncharacteristically sedate and sated as she pokes at her beautiful tuna tartare and over-priced cocktail. ]