Weird day. Weird night last night.
Ended up silks shopping, in and out of Gor, something I thought I'd never do for anyone again. (Not the silks shopping, I own silks, though before last night, I had a firm dedication to only purchase silks from Image Reflections--no, the in and out of Gor bit.) It felt very much one step forward, two steps back, because so many sims were still having troubles, and I was forever wandering around on my own.
I was fascinated by Analise--not so much the silks, though they look surpassingly lovely, but more the ornate seraglio feel of the space--I'm currently in process of designing a pleasure garden, and I'm quite tempted to snag some of the design style here, see what transports to home.
The reason we were silk-shopping is that an acquaintance of the statue's--who, coincidentally, currently lives in Gor--had a silk set he highly admired. Multicolored tones of blue and rainbow, he said, butterfly top--and the closest we could find was ally Chevalier's shop, which didn't seem, quite, to have anything like this. But close--she had butterfly tops:
(Just for clarity, I didn't take that image, someone at SLNN did, all rights reserved to them, whomever they are)
and some truly lovely ideas, but nothing multicolored with the butterfly top.
The statue said, how hard could it be? And off we went. He had no idea how many silk shops there are on the grid...
It's an interesting game, to be sure. One step forward, two steps back. Or maybe one step ahead, one step to the side, and we dance in circles. I'm surprisingly accepting, and should this worry me? I don't think so...but then, mayhap, I wouldn't.
In other news, I saw the once and future princeling, last night. Leader of the Forsaken was DJing on her new yacht, and told me to get dressed and get my ass down to the docks. Yes, ma'am. I invited the statue, and just as I rezzed in, and called him, she told me the vampire ex had made an appearance.
I'm sad to say, he looked...terrible. Oh, he never dances at dances, that's not the thing, that's just him, as irritating as it was and is. But...he always looked good, good enough to charm the heart, good enough to pang me with the loss of the one he used to be.
Last night? He wore black. As always. He wore a cape. As nearly always. He had spiked up all that glorious fall of silver-glitter hair, and it stuck out in uneven masses of spikes and curls. What in all the hells....
He saw me when the DJ screamed my name, and said hello. I said hello. He asked how I was doing. I said good, but busy. It's a truthful answer.
Then the statue arrived, and I introduced him to the DJ, and...the vampire I'd loved and lost fell very, very silent.
I remember making one comment about his hair, when he mentioned how very pretty he was...but honestly, that hair, how could I not? It positively unnerved me to see it in such disarray. But ten minutes later, whatever the reason...he was gone, from the yacht, from Forsaken lands, from the world.
It's very hard not to see this personally.
There's some small and unworthy portion of my soul that's cackling madly...in case it turns out to be seeing me, with or without the statue...that drove him away.
Very unworthy portion. No good at all. Stop that at once, Em.