Wedding Bells Are Ringing

[primrosella]

When; February 26th, all day
Rating; G for GOOD GRIEF IT'S ABOUT TIME
Characters; Cain, Earl of Hargreaves (misterblackbird), HRH Princess Rosella of Daventry (primrosella), and their assorted invitees!
Summary; It's a wedding that surprises absolutely no one, save for in the sense of "we're surprised that it actually took this long".
Log;

The good news is, the wedding was supposed to be last Saturday, so when all the business with the Door and the return of the Deities and the ensuing war hit, it wasn't like it was altogether that difficult to just up and postpone things a bit. Where but in the City would one have to call an event on account of Quite Possibly The Armageddon, hmm?

But things have died down now, and the doors have appeared. All of a sudden, the time everyone'd thought they had left seems altogether too short, the end looming too soon and too real on a very near horizon, and there's simply no time to wait any longer. It's hardly the wedding either Cain or Rosella would've had in their respective worlds, but it's a wedding nevertheless, and in the end what really matters is that they're here and it's happening and whatever might come of things tomorrow, well, that's a little later on.

It's precisely the sort of sentiment one learns to live by, after years upon years in the City. Neil and Todd would call it carpe diem; whatever one calls it, it's good advice. Tomorrow may be uncertain, but what they have is today, and February the 26th is as fine a date as any for a wedding anniversary, anyway.

And it is, indeed, a beautiful wedding.

The East Wing of the Palace is decked out in flowers of white and pink--with surprisingly fewer roses in the clusters than one might expect of a wedding with Rosella as a part of it. Where they do appear, they're pale pink, and tucked in for accent among the scattered magnolias, orchids, and stephanotis. The rest of the decor is both tasteful and traditional: white bows, crystal, and a few pretty appearances of the standard (and appropriately, highly poisonous) lilies of the valley for good measure.

The bride, naturally, turns up in a lovely dress of what those in the business have dubbed "the whitest white to ever white", as is natural and befitting a princess; her veil is held in place by the crown she brought with her from home, and on her feet are the same glass slippers she's worn to so many other important events before. With her bouquet in hand and her knights at either side, the processional goes off without a hitch, and from that point on it's all Miss Megumi's show.

But really, it's not so much the wedding people come for, is it, as the reception?

And what a fairy-tale reception it is, with a newly-minted prince and his princess, a pair of knights, a squire, and music and dancing and food and laughter (and of course, an open bar and cake). All of which will receive more description and possibly some linked images soon enough, but these kids are running on a deadline here, so you know what, use your imagination for the time being while we get some matrimony up in this business.

A wise man once said, "The real purpose of a wedding isn't so much the ceremony; it's the big party with all your friends and loved ones afterward." And that's what we've got tonight, folks, so tonight we're gonna party like it's 1889.

Or 20 AGC.

Or February 26, 2014.

Or like it's the end of the world, which given our track record the past couple of days, it might just be.

But hey, at least there's free booze and cake!



[ OOC: EVERYBODY GET IN HERE. Mark subthreads with your place and point in time (pre-ceremony, during, at the reception, whatever), threadjack ridiculously, and tag yourselves in so we can all find this later! Backdate until the end of time, folks, it's the wedding some of us have all been waiting for. c: ]

Comments

pre-wedding

[sleepingstar]

[Pai pokes her head into the dressing room, curious to get a glimpse of Rosella. This is the first wedding she's ever attended, much less been a part of.]

pre-wedding

[primrosella]

[Fortunately, the majority of Rosella's preparation has been done and handled earlier in the day, so by the time she's in her dressing chambers, the only things she's really got to do are to fix what little makeup she intends to wear, find her bouquet, and make sure her crown and veil are sitting straight on her head (as opposed to prettily on a shelf nearby).

When she glances up at the sound of the opening door, it's a little too abrupt, and clearly a reflex made sharper by nerves. But when she sees Pai, she smiles warmly, and motions her in from the hall.]

Hello! Oh, please do come in, I'm glad for the company and you needn't stand in the hall, if you'd rather.

[sleepingstar]

[Pai slides in, instinctively cautious and moving with eerily silent footsteps. She's new to all of this, and new things are potential threats. A part of her is ready to attack at any moment.

The rest of her smoothes her dress almost nervously.]

Your dress looks lovely.

[primrosella]

Why, thank you. You don't think it's a bit much?

[The train is approximately eight miles long. Yes, Rosella, it's a bit much.]

Even so, it...well, it feels like the right one, and so I suppose either way there's no harm in that, is there.

First Dance

[misterblackbird]

To have a "first dance" after the ceremony itself is not a custom with which Cain is immediately familiar (he wonders if it might be a custom in Daventry, and then wonders if it might be a borrowed custom from another world entirely--so much of what's done in the City is borrowed after all, but that adds to the interest of it). It seems rather extravagant to have dancing at a wedding, at least of this sort. But, certainly, a celebration is due.

Married. What a strange thought. What a strange thought to find crossing his mind as he stands with Rosella's--his bride, his wife--hand in his.

They have danced this way before, so many times. And he thinks of other ballrooms in other cities in other worlds.

There was a certain pleasure--call it a perversion if one likes, of course--he could find in moments such as those, in crowds, in the ivory-and-gilt ballrooms of one household aspiring or another in trembling decline. It didn't matter: they were all painted in the same colours, only one would bear more gilt than the other and everyone who really knew already knew who was aspiring and who was declining. Their daughters made it clear if nothing else.

So that enjoyment, as that's another word, that came in such times and places as those, surrounded by a crowd or kept to himself at the side but knowing full well that he was watched, there was an enjoyment in seeing what was unseen or in knowing more than he might say. That was the game.

Cain Hargreaves, they'd say, the young Earl Hargreaves. And then there was a choice of rumour to follow the name. His eccentric collection, the tragedy of his lost fiancee, his youth, his wealth, his peculiar eyes, his family's whispered past. It all depended on the lady (or gentleman, one might as well be honest) and her taste. Those bright flowers and the girls dressed in white, they might whisper in one tone of wealth or horrors. And those ladies who wore more black than was seemly, they might whisper in a very different way of those same horrors.

And he would smile when they glanced his way--he knew what they were saying even if they were too far across the room for him to hear. And that, of course, would set them to whispering again.

Those other times--how strange to stand in the midst of a ballroom, then, with an open window to his back and the night beyond, and think of the war with his father. And all before him, the young unmarried and hopefuls of the London Season turned and swirled, with ladies spinning about their partners like bright flowers tied to dark stakes. And they had no notion that the spate of fires, the wild purchases of the burned land by the Barabas Company, the shape of those holdings, the disaster so recently in the Precious Garden (well, he'd been on stage there, not that anyone could have recognized him under that wig and cape--really, do pay more attention)--they saw these things in the papers and thought nothing of them beyond what they seemed at the surface. How could they know? How could they bear to know and to go on, twirling in gilt ballrooms, knowing that these fires, these murders, these strange occurances that from time to time shook even the drawing rooms of Society were all orchestrated by his father's hand? That would shatter this fragile illusion they had of Empire and Society.

These things were worlds away. These things were worlds away and yet the doorway to that world stood open even at this very moment as he stood, hand in hand, preparing to take a first step, with his new bride.

All those blushing hopefuls of the Season would be crushed if they knew. But they paled in comparison in all ways.

Here, then, was his lady love, crowned in gems and dressed in white, standing at his side, unharmed, well, whole, alive. Every aspect of her, every element of her was a defiance to the darkness that surrounded him. Her very heart to him seemed radiant with a kind of certainty, a kind of defiance.

She was, here, at the first and last, the cure, the antidote to his poison.

He took her hand. He smiled at her. And he stepped to the floor, wearing the crown she had asked him to wear as he would be Prince of Daventry now as she was Princess (he'd hesitated there, at first, but this was hers to give and he bowed his head to the crown she gave him--no crown of thorns here, not as Merry had promised to ease the pain from, but a crown of golden leaves).

Soon he would go away to war. For how long, he could not say. But he held fast to his certainty. She was his antidote. She stood against all the ruin that he brought with him. Even in his shadow, she would shine. And he loved her. He would go away to war and return to her, victorious.

He had made his promises to her now, too. And he would keep them.

He took her hand and they danced.

[primrosella]

If you'd asked Rosella, right then, what she thought the oddest bit about it all was, she wouldn't have said the thought of dancing at a wedding; quite the opposite, she was more than used to the thought of dancing at weddings, though she had a sneaking suspicion that was more a tradition that had originated with her merriment-loving father than with any sort of longstanding custom of the crown, back home.

No, she'd have said that the oddest bit was twofold, really--the sight of the golden crown resting securely against her prince's jet-black hair, or the fact that in all the times that they'd danced together like this before, this was the first that she'd ever been in white for it.

There was always something to that, the thought of her wearing color in complement to his black. On the days when she'd found herself a bird, they'd always said it was fitting that she have such lovely, brilliant feathers. And of course she'd always loved her rainbow of dresses, pink and red and blue, oranges like the sunset, greens like seafoam. In comparison, today she was rather--well, once she might've called it washed out, a bit despairingly--in white and white and white, taffeta and tulle.

And yet there was something to this, too, this thought of wearing white on a day like today. It wasn't that she'd outgrown her colors, not at all. Rather, she'd come to realize, it was that this time they were coming from her instead of the dress, in a way that they never had before.

(Today it was nothing but the blue of her eyes, the pink of her cheeks, the gold of her hair streaming loose beneath her veil and crown.)

And so they danced, and as it happened she cried, but only a bit; they were the sort of tears that come from the moments in time that steal one's breath away, and moments like those came to pass each and every time she turned her eyes toward his smiling face.

[misterblackbird]

"You know if you cry, I shall have to brush away every tear. I don't mind it, but you know I'll have to."

He had never thought of it, that she had never worn white when they'd danced before. He had thought of other things: how well whatever colour she wore suited her, whether they would be well and safe after they had danced, whether she would be well and safe after having danced with him, what he might need to do to protect her, what he must do next, how very blue her eyes were. Those were the things he thought of while they danced.

And he thought of them now, some of them. Would she be well and safe? Yes, because he would guard her and so would so many others who saw happiness in her at this moment and who would guard her happiness. Her eyes were so very blue.

"If you must cry, cry. But I'll brush away every tear. And I'll say that you're just like a rose adorned with pearls of morning dew."

Perhaps that was a bit much, a bit like the days years ago when he'd use that kind of poetry on certain young ladies. And it had worked, too. Perhaps not now. And perhaps that was best.

whenever, wherever, forever.

[had_not_lived]

[It's probably for the best that this wedding isn't any fancier, because Neil's head is spinning as it is. He can't quite bring himself to say it's the best wedding he's been to-- that feels a little too disloyal to a certain Christmas morning-- but it's incredible, unquestionably so.

Five years in the City have been good for Neil; he'd have looked like a kid play-acting, when he arrived, kitted out in knight's regalia and carrying a sword. As it is, he pulls it off surprisingly well-- though perhaps he's a bit too cheerful to be properly intimidating. Not surly in the least. He's mingling like any other guest, though he doesn't stray too far from the bride, on principle. A knight's duty, after all, is not suspended during a party.

He's eating and drinking and he's merry, for yesterday he died. (Metaphorically, but only on the yesterday count. Who's doing the math on that, anyway.)

It's a beautiful day, and there's nowhere he'd rather be.]

[misterblackbird]

[Wither goest the bride, so goest the bridegroom, of course. And Cain is nowhere if not near to Rosella's side, wearing his crown of golden leaves as best he can, speaking to everyone, but mostly tossing adoring glances in Rosella's direction.

He is, though, both pleased and amused to see that his lady wife has her own small force of armed knights to protect her. Chivalrous knights. Of the most romantic sense--these knights even wrote poetry, and if that didn't adhere to the customs of Courtly Love, scarce else could be said to.

Neil (Sir Neil? Sir Perry?) passes nearby. Cain can't help but speak to him as well, though he has been more than present this whole day.]

Neil!

[A pause. It seems ridiculous to keep saying the same things, but...]

Thank you--for coming, for all you've done. Most of all for standing with Rosella.

[had_not_lived]

You couldn't have kept me away, [he says earnestly, warmly, his hands clasped around a glass, his own plain wedding band gleaming on his finger.] And congratulations! I'm not sure if I said it yet.

[It's been such a busy day, he honestly can't recall.]

[primrosella]

[Well, of course it's only right that Neil--pardon, Sir Neil--ought to have stood up for her at her wedding, not just because of their longstanding friendship but because there was once a certain Christmas morning where Rosella had stood up, herself, and goodness knows what goes around comes around, after all.

And speaking of being intimidating, he'll certainly be even less so when Rosella makes her way over in that ridiculous fairylike dress, all blue eyes and sunshine smiles, and gives him absolutely no time for protest before bestowing a kiss on his cheek.]

Why, how fine you look, Sir Neil! Isn't it just the loveliest time?

[had_not_lived]

I can't hold a candle to you and your husband, My Lady.

[And this, here, is the most incredible and wonderful bit of all; for all the pomp and circumstance there really isn't much formality at all. Neil's grin is almost as bright as hers (almost, because it's a physical impossibility to out-joy a bride at her wedding,) and he wraps his arms around her in a hug that is totally lacking in the appropriate gravitas for a knight. Fortunately, it makes up for it in devotion.

The trappings are irrelevant; their friendship is as easy as ever. Though he has to watch that he doesn't knock anything over with the sword.]

I'm so happy, I can't even tell you.

[othersdie]

[Justin has been admiring the decorative foliage and staying out of the way. He doesn't like weddings (except for that one Christmas one, that one was okay). They seem tailored to remind those who won't ever have weddings of their own of their quiet, gnawing loneliness, and there's something sad about them in the City. The City is a place of impermanence; Justin can't imagine making a vow that should last forever here.

(It was okay for Neil and Todd. They're going to be together forever. No arguments.)

But Neil walks by and he's a knight, complete with sword. That encourages Justin to detach himself from a flower-festooned pillar to talk. He forces a smile in an attempt to better fit in with the rest of the party.]

Do I need to call you "sir" from now on?

[had_not_lived]

You don't need to,

[He laughs, pleased beyond all reason because he's a knight, and he's at Rosella's wedding, and these are fantastic things even in the face of great uncertainty. And Justin's here, and he doesn't look entirely miserable, and that's also good.]

Though I might insist with strangers.

Mingle time (get in here you all)

[oceanmist]

[ ... Becoming a minister wasn't something that was in her to-do list, to be entirely honest.

But hey, the city has done crazier things. She's been a mermaid, a pokemon, a ghost.... And she's been married a few times in the faint memories she does recall. (Perhaps to the groom or his father, it's happened) - but right now, there's no confusion. She does recall how she felt initially, when it all began. It's a vague memory, when her feelings had more fire to them. But now there's a peacefulness to them- there's more at stake for her, more to look after. Those feelings from then are now a transformed set of emotions where she can put those thoughts where they belong.

In her prettiest memories. None that have to do with whatever is going on in her life right now-

But this... Well. As she watches them, she can't believe it's been this long for this place. A pity, really- she wouldn't mind the deities giving those magic-haters back home a good whopping, but at the same time... What will be will be. Much like the couple before her who at one point may have raised her own worry- and perhaps a sense of dread. She held back, he'd held back with her- the city isn't forever, and they could return and forget.

He didn't feel this for her though and there's a feeling of satisfaction there as she wants to remind him of all the times he told her that he didn't deserve that happiness. Eating his words now, isn't he? In the best way, of course- much like she is, well. Once the jokes about his heartbreaking and how Rosella's got a jewel in her hands she's got to hold onto, how Cain's got the princess most guys just dream of- and by the power she has to conduct this wedding (wow, words she never thought she'd say) they're man and wife. Now have a kiss that's going to put everything to shame.

All of that seems to be like a dream, much like the fact that the city has pulled a fast one on them. To give them ways home- ways back to Julien and the others... Whoever they are, whoever she needs to remember. But for now, she can enjoy this, as much as one can enjoy things in this place- she'd managed to rob a store- well. Put together something presentable to wear herself, her favorite colors- blue, violet, the brief bursts of pink sparkle as a reminder of the very, very first time this city took her with a life and world completely different from all others- in a sweetheart neck cut blouse with straps, and flowing skirt to follow. Her hair is done simply and she would pose a picture of elegance-

But she's currently plotting on eating every sandwich in sight (nicely!) and looking for the desserts. Because what the heck is a wedding without food, right? She looks happy, if just a little worried. Where do they go from here...

Oh well, that comes later. Wedding first. And food...

And perhaps a little trying to figure out which people at this party prefer the same gender and what stories she can weave around them... Heh heh. ]

I am so here!!

[misterblackbird]

[It wouldn't do to be too far away from Rosella--his bride, his new wife--for very long. But he saw Megumi, now more as he recalled her, more as herself, less the judge or minister or official who would hear the vows given and received.

And yet, he was glad it had been her to hear those vows between them--or, rather, that she had accepted when they had asked her.

Cain recalled so much of what had once passed between them, the familiarities, the fondness. And he wondered, still, if all of this might cause her pain.

He had not expected to see Megumi again. Now or ever. Yet here she was.

It wouldn't do to stay too far from Rosella for too long, but he sought out Megumi all the same.]

Megumi--thank you.

[oceanmist]

[ It would be a lie to say there wasn't a little pain, a very brief, forgettable little memory of the fact that this had begun when she was here, and that her departure is what they needed to progress forward with it. It was brief, but not consuming, because enough had changed in her time back home that being in the City was distant enough from that time to now.

Or so she'd convinced herself, because there was no way she was going to rain on anyone's parade for something they didn't even have to consider her for. It was nicer, still, to be able to be a part of a happy little story, even if it didn't involve her, but one that she could see and perhaps tell her brother about.

A brother she was determined to find and know again. However, when Cain approaches her, the thoughts are hardly there- she's busy trying to build a mountain of pastries on her plate when he shows up, and her eyebrows lift for a moment before a chuckle escapes her. ]

Haven't I always told you there's to be no thank yous between friends?

[ She sets the plate down for a moment, almost like she's guarding it (those are hers!!) and she gives Cain a grin. ]

It went well though, didn't it? I'm rather glad it was me. I think everyone stayed awake the entire time!

[ She had made quite a few jokes along the way, aside from the official sounding things, even throwing in a "Why am I even wasting time, these two want to liplock already, get on with it!!" at the end- she only hopes Cain didn't mind, but then again, she's never been entirely traditional for anything. ]

... you're happy now, aren't you?

[ The undertone of that question being "you know, since you said you didn't deserve to be, once?" ]

[primrosella]

[Well, if nothing else, Miss Megumi's got a kindred spirit in Rosella as far as those sandwiches and desserts are concerned--though it's perhaps a bit more acceptable for the bride to devour as many as she likes if only because it's the unspoken rule of wedding days that nothing the bride does on that day is ever wrong, period.

(They are excellent sandwiches, though, and her sweet tooth has dictated that there be a magnificent array of desserts, besides. Everything one needs to stay quite content, and then some.)

But while it's near the refreshments table that Rosella manages to catch Megumi for a word, there are far more important things than sandwiches on her mind as she beams a warm smile at their officiant.]

I'm...I'm so glad you could've been here today, Miss Megumi, and for the--just, for everything, thank you. Thank you ever so much.

[oceanmist]

[ Aside from having once loved the groom, she's glad that Rosella has something just as nice to share with her, and she isn't about to tell her off when she's just as eager to make sure no one else finishes off the desserts before her.

(And yes, she does quite like the sandwiches... especially the meaty ones.)

Though when she thanks her, Megumi's own eyes widen as she stares at her for a bit, then shakes her head and takes her by the shoulder to tug closer- a gesture that might be too familiar, especially with the distance they've had in years now since she left, but one she needs to do. ]

Do I really need to go into the rules of what not to call a person when they're at least a little more than just acquaintances?

[ And let's be fair- where it comes to Cain, they've sort of been allies there haven't they. ]

Just for that, you'll only be welcome if you drop the "Miss". I might be a little different now, but that's no reason to start being formal again, Princess.

[ And different she is- younger, new last name, lived a completely different life... and no boyfriend waiting for her back home, but a brother. Romance is something she'll think about later whenever the time comes, but her family is more important right now. ]

You've still got a lot to fill me in on for the years I've been gone, you know.

[ She knows where Cain and her story begins- it happened in front of her, even when she was here- but to move from 'nothing like that' to a wedding now.

A lot must have happened, for certain, for Cain to finally agree that he deserved the happiness he'd been running away from for so long. ]

... pity we don't have the time, but we could find a way, couldn't we?

[majorcrotchgrab]

[Here, Megumi. It's your favorite gay brat. He's dressed in his uniform, looking rather confident and serious for once. Being asked to be a witness was an odd request but having worked for Rosella previously and occasionally spoken to Cain, he was happy to oblige. It was a nice way to go out of the City, he thought. He doubted he'd be attending much weddings in the future. Might as well make the most of it, right?

He spots Megumi and figures he might as well as speak to her in person. So, with a rather authoritative stride to his walk, he heads over to her.]

Hello... er... Megumi, was it?

[She would have competition for the food. Without Nathan around, he would more than likely over eat while here.]

sob so sorry for the late, this got lost in my inbox!

[oceanmist]

[ The gay brat she'll lose too soon ;_; She's kind of (sort of) stuffing her face anyway with all the sandwiches she can get her hands on so what Raikov will come to face to face with is a rather graceless young lady... well- at least she doesn't have food all over her mouth, but it is full. She blinks and gulps down her bite before moving a napkin over her mouth and staring. ]

Heey, Major Raikov.

[ Excuse her. She quickly turns around and makes sure her mouth and the area around it is clean before she gives him a wave. ]

Not eating? There's a lot to enjoy, you know!

[ And enough to be distracted with. She's happy, but at the same time- well. Girls only eat a lot for two reasons. One is a thing boys like to pretend doesn't exist and the other is, well. Heart matters.

She sure isn't doing it because she's hungry, that's for sure. ]

Reception: Open Season on the Bride

[primrosella]

[The fact of the matter is, Rosella probably can't honestly say that this is the happiest day of her life, but in fairness to the occasion that's really only because "The day I thought I was going to be sacrificed to a three-headed dragon but then actually wasn't" and "The day my person heroics singlehandedly saved my gravely ill father from certain death" do tend to trump pretty much everything else by comparison.

It is, however, the happiest day of her life that hasn't in some way involved someone's imminent death (save for perhaps that of the father of the groom), so there's something to that, anyway.

What's odd is that by all rights and accounts, this is traditionally what's supposed to be "her day"--the day when everything she wants ought to go exactly according to her wishes, where she is the center of attention and the fairest of them all--and certainly she has that, but at the same time it's hard to want to be the center of attention when she's so busy focusing hers on all the familiar faces of her friends and loved ones around her.

And what a sight she makes in her dress, whether she's sampling the desserts or chatting with friends or perhaps even being whisked away for yet another turn around the dance floor.

It still hasn't quite sunk in yet, that this is her wedding day, but it's a grand party nevertheless, and she's nothing but radiant for it.]

BOUQUET TOSS

[primrosella]

BEST LINE UP, THIS SUCKER'S GETTING THROWN

[anunluckypenny]

[Penny's trying not to feel too sad and single and convinced that she'll never end up getting married herself. Really, she shouldn't be hanging around and waiting for Rosella to chuck her bouquet. It's not like she really wants to catch it. Really. What a silly tradition, fighting other girls (and maybe a few boys) for flowers and the hope that the next wedding will be hers.

Okay, no, she's in it to win it. Fight her for those flowers, bitches.]

[primrosella]

[AS WELL SHE SHOULD BE, GOSH DARNIT.]

Oh, Penny, good, you're going to play, too?