Knockin' on Heaven's Door

Twelve… there were twelve in the beginning. Twelve archangels, each in charge of one kingdom. Any of which below the tenth being a lower kingdom. That was before the twelfth Archangel ended his own rule with a fatal mistake. What was the mistake? No one remembered, nor did they care. If you sin against the Creator, the reason is without importance. But there must be a ruler. A lower section of the Heavenly kingdoms is not important enough for the other higher angels to care. Demoted to a mere mortal-like existence, corruption and earth traditions seeped through our realm. Angels began to practice using worldly pleasures such as money, marriage, and producing generations. I am from the first generation of angels born from angels within the twelfth tier. I recall my father explaining the fall of our kind, how we are forced to remain in this in-between world of heaven and earth mixed. I was intrigued.

I studied our past, what we should have been. We would not get anywhere if our kingdom remained disorganized, loathsome with the human characteristics. I took it upon myself as an adolescent to begin the revolution. I read much of the different political systems the mortals used in the Holy Word. Kings stood out to me, but I took my inspiration from Manasseh, a good and just man who merely approached his rule in the wrong way. The solution became clear. I must take up this role of king and govern my people. That is when I came to power. By the time I was a young man, I became king, through a vote of the people. The only thing I did not find pleasure in was the insistence that I find a wife. I picked out a young girl and married her shortly after. She was pregnant only once, but the baby was revealed to be a girl, which posed no threat to my rule. I’ve renewed heaven ever since, building up my army, preparing for the ultimate rule, taking what I deserve and becoming greater than even the Creator, piece by piece. The people below me have no power nor influence.

My child, the only child I have, I banished from heaven when she was young. I do not recall the age. Her wings, when they emerged, were not like ours. She was a demon, sent from hell to plague me, those red, bloody wings attached to her back. Such wings had never been seen before, and I could not risk losing my power due to a fluke of nature. The Queen has never shared my viewpoint, neither about the abnormalities of her daughter, nor of my planned revolution. I have successfully poisoned her steadily to keep her locked away, and I am confident she will not last much longer, despite her power. There is only one possibility through which it is capable for me to lose my throne. I am finding out the likelihood and answers to this problem now.

He lay down the pen, leaving the journal pages open with a sudden pounding on the chamber door. “Enter.”

He came in, armor clinking as his blue eyes peered at his superior. He kneeled, head bowed. “Sir.”

“Captain. What news have you?”

Will allowed his head to straighten, followed by the rest of his body. He took time to analyze the king, knowing his report would not last long. The ruler was cold, merciless, driven mad with power. Perhaps that was why he appeared to be so old, hardened features of his face making him appear as stone.

“The queen is near death,” Will stated flatly, hating himself for such monotone sounds after such grievous news.

“I see. Unfortunate.” His majestic robes rustled as he watched the man’s eyes.

“Yes, my Lord,” he ground out through his teeth, bile rising in his throat with the use of the esteemed title.

“And what of my dear daughter? Are the rumors I hear throughout the kingdom true?”

“They are. Selene Vlaxen is to be married. The ceremony itself is taking place as we speak.” A bitterness stirred in the male angel’s heart. He had promised himself he would be there, but found himself tied by this dictator. How could he let down his best friend?

“If she is married, there will be conflict with heaven’s future. We cannot allow that to happen.” Using a single finger, he motioned for Will to step closer, as he opened a window to view the movement of the citizens below. “Look at them, William.”

He did as he was told, but wasn’t quite sure exactly what he was looking for. “The people, sir?” he asked dumbly, never flinching from his position.

“Aren’t they all happy like this? They’ll be even happier soon. Soon they will all be renewed.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “We will all be higher than any kingdom. We will be the definition of heaven itself, William. We will be higher than the Creator. And you’re going to lead my army.”

“A-army, sir?” Will asked, not minding the formalities so much now, the reference of the army pressing at his heart.

“Yes. We must not let my daughter threaten the revolution when we are so close to the end results. We are perfect, Will. We must regain it and retain it, for all eternity. She will come. After she is married, her husband and I will be fighting for the kingdom. William, we cannot allow outsiders to take over, not now. We will fight.” He began to guide the captain out of the room, hands firm upon the armored shoulders.

“But, but we don’t have to fight. She’s your daughter!” Will responded in desperation as he stumbled down the long flights of steps that led both the Queen and King’s chambers. He would rather have his wings sawed off than hurt the woman he once loved. "She's not doing anything to anyone on earth! Can't we just let her be?"

“No. She’s a demonic figure that tortures me. And it’s about time I rid myself of that. Go and gather the army. Tell them we’re at war.” He pushed Will out the gateway, facing him with a hand on each door.

“War?” This was too much for Will. How would Selene possibly survive after the entire army of heaven was being sent after her?

“Oh, and tell them there will be no survivors.” The doors shut.

~--------On Earth--------~

She groaned inside the cramped bathroom, holding back the huge frills of the gorgeous, puffy dress, leaning over the porcelain sink. She coughed a few times and looked at herself in the mirror. A whole net of butterflies had been set loose in her stomach, flipping and knotting it around her, but she hadn’t thought it would make her get sick, and only minutes before the wedding, too. Thank goodness for toothpaste. She had brought the tube and her toothbrush as well, just in case. She somehow knew it could happen, since it had been happening more and more often with the approaching of that crucial moment. She never did deal well with pressure, but the constant churning and nausea was difficult to bear. It began to settle a bit as she spit and rinsed, analyzing herself again in the mirror.

A pity she didn’t have any bridesmaids on her side to help hold back her dress. Despite the lack of her family and friends attending the wedding, she told Zorlo she wanted it as normal as possible, like he had explained to her. She never did find out who his best man was, but she had told him over and over again as the date drew nearer that he needed to find out and tell her.

Surprises were not a good thing on her wedding day. She could hardly breathe with the mix of sweet perfume and tight chest portion of her dress, a surprise in itself. She could hardly believe she was about to marry him. After so long, so much planning and that engagement, she just hoped everything would go well. No distractions, no disruptions, just a clean, wonderful wedding. Then she recalled who she was marrying. There went that idea.

As far as the reception went, there was a vast amount of different tastes, including dessert wines, juices, and of course, an assortment of sodas and water. Hopefully she had catered to everyone's tastes. With Zorlo being so busy, Selene had taken most of the responsibility of the planning of her own wedding. The cake she had checked on earlier and she knew that was fine. A mixture of chocolate on one side and vanilla the other, she chose a rather simple pattern of white icing and red roses, the intertwining icing trails along it forcing her to restrain herself from eating it the first time she saw it. She made sure to get a five layer cake, expensive, but enough hopefully to feed all the guests, of which she had no doubt would be quite numerous. She couldn’t count the people Zorlo knew. So many people to visit the groom’s side, while the bride’s remained empty… almost empty.

She stared into the mirror, recalling the one person she had invited personally. Shaking her head, she began to primp herself. Very little makeup dotted her face, although a bit of mascara and blush never hurt anyone, with a touch of sparkly lipgloss for good measure. A wedding was something you didn't get to do twice in your life, right? Might as well try to make it as special as possible.

Though very tight and strapless from her chest to her waist, below that, her wedding gown looked like a snow-capped mountain, beginning vast at her feet so her high heels could not be seen, and ending coming to a pearl-beaded point where a single long ribbon choker held it around her neck. A long trail of her veil dragged behind her at a length of at least four feet. She hoped she didn’t trip like she had when she had practiced. She made sure the ponytail of her hair was tight, two small, pretty strands of her hair framing her face beyond the shield of the lacy veil. She positioned it correctly, releasing a small breath to glance at the boquet of red roses. Wouldn’t be long now, no, not long at all. Most of the people should be seated or greeting Zorlo by this time, leaving her to suffocate in this flytrap dress of death.

Well, to say this was an every day thing... it simply wasn't. For the first time in a long while, Zorlo actually felt... well, he felt something akin to being nervous. If he even remembered the fact he could be nervous, now was the worst time. As he finished with his neck tie, the green haired man smiled at his reflection in the mirror as he looked over his dark green tuxedo. Black be damned. After all, why wouldn't a man with green hair wear a green tux?

"So, you're really going through with this, aren't you?" Monroe asked. The dark clad man was leaning against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the Aura Master. "I never thought this day would actually come. A day we see Zorlo anything other than calm and collected. I knew something had to shake you."

"Yes, and you also knew it wasn't you, now shut up!" Zachary said to Monroe, looking at Zorlo. "Anyway, Z, a lot of people came. Seems that Rain guy, his sister, some guy named Raven, some chick with what looks like either pink or purple hair, a dude with purple hair, and some loud mouthed guy with some kind of odd magical powers are here. Aside from them, there are a whole lot of other people here too. I was astonished, to say the least."

"You shouldn't be," Monroe intervened. "After all, he's a legend at the Dome. Since that wench left, he's the only pseudo human full teacher at the Dome."

Zachary glared at the bounty hunter and reached for where his sword would have been, gone for the dark blue tux he wore. "You're lucky. Any other day, I would have slapped you clean through that wall."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Red. After all, that two dollar-" Monroe was ceased as he caught Zorlo's glance towards him. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Cadenza, Hunter and Louis. I couldn't find a one of them to be here today. It's rather sad, but still, I knew this would happen. Anyway, I'm sad he isn't here either. Then again, the dead don't normally appear like humans do."

The assistants laughed as they kept a close eye on Zorlo.

"So..." Monroe started, sighing lightly as he said what needed to be said, "You're really going through with this. You're going to, single handedly, lead a small band against an army. What do you think you and those you bring are, Uber Mensche?" Monroe asked, not really liking the idea.

Zorlo turned and took a step forward, smiling as he always did, a bit more perspirous was all. "Not at all. We're greater. I'm only bringing those I know will be able to handle any kind of power that is dangerous."

"You're just mad he's leaving you here," the ice innate interjected as he smiled.

"I am not. I'd rather take care of the kids here than go off and fight with pansy angels. I need to do something to keep my skills sharp."

An object flew through the air towards Monroe, the bounty hunter barely catching it as is neared his eyes, and stepping back. "That is for you. It is the secret to your freedom. Take it to a place called the Temple of the Sun and that crystal will divide your soul from Set's. If you're lucky enough to live, then all you have to do is seal Set into that gem and all will be good."

"Okay, for one, the chance I could die makes it slightly less worth it, if not more exciting, but the fact that it doesn't do everything on its own kinda pisses me off. But, whatever, thanks Z," the warrior stated bluntly as he placed the crystal into his pocket.

"Ready?" Zorlo asked his squire with a smile.

"Yes, I am. I've never been more so," the firebrand stated as the three left the room and made towards the long walk ahead of them. Monroe would sneak into the seats, and Zachary would do his job as the ring bearer. After all, who needed a best man?

The large wooden door opened with a creak, and in stepped one of the last guests to arrive. It had taken him long enough to prepare and to arrive, but prepared he was and arrive he did. Though tardy, he was not late enough for it to make a large difference. He inhaled deeply, taking in the sights and sounds around him, and moved with agile grace into the building, shutting the wooden door behind him. Eyes trailed naturally two him, several gazes landing on him and staying on him as curious looks degenerated into stares. He had expected as much. He was dressed unusually.

A linen robe hung across his shoulders, off-white and long enough to reach to the beginning of his ankles, spun with intermingling and very thin stripes of tan. Over the linen robe he wore a linen tunic of the soft linen, hemmed with silver threads and solidly off-white, falling almost to the middle of his shins. Over that he wore a surcoat, long enough to reach the knees in the back and split at the left so that it was buttoned with three large silver buttons. The surcoat was also hemmed with silver thread, and its color was tan. Over the surcoat was a ceremonial breastplate of copper and iron, buckled loosely over the shoulders and around the waist, where a pure white sash hung across his waist and cinched the robe around him. Low on his waist, half-hidden by the white sash, hung a decorative sword belt of bleached off-white leather. On it hung a pair of swords, one long and the other short, obviously made as a set. Both were worked with fine silver on the hilt, but their designs were simple. On his feet he wore boots of identical bleached leather, barely visible below the robe.

Quiet descended on the room as Kichaa Mesoa gazed about him, his eyes and face serious. A few looked away. Others gawked. Many had taken no notice of him to begin with, and he simply passed over them with quiet ease. No smile was on his mouth. Nothing about him seemed to be either pleasant or likeable—though some of the denizens of the room could bear the same kind of description. He frowned slightly at the large gathering of men and women he had never met, but said nothing. Instead he strode purposefully through the reception area and towards the room in which the ceremony was to be held. An usher stopped him and, after giving his appearance a strange look and his weaponry a very pointed gaze, to which the warrior simply narrowed his eyes, gave him a small frown.

"Whose guest?" he asked, his voice laden half with scorn and half with disbelief.

"The bride," Kichaa answered, clipped and precise. He looked down at the man from a good foot overhead and crossed his arms. He looked as unmovable as a mountain. The usher swallowed.

"Right this way," he mumbled, half-tripping over himself to lead the new arrival into the sanctuary. He lead the oddly dressed man to the left side of the room, the seats of which were conspicuously uninhabited, and indicated that he seat himself in the first row. He did so, giving the usher a dismissing glance that bordered on scathing.

It was purely accidental. The warrior had his mind on other things, and simply passed the man a look that he was accustomed to giving anyone he was dismissing. He often forgot that there were men and women in the world who were much more easily frightened than the kind of people he was prone to associate with ... though surprised him that such a person could have been found at this particular wedding. More accurately, it would have surprised him, if he had bothered to take note of the way the small man hurried back to his position at the doorway. The professional exterior of the tuxedo-clad greeter had been shattered briefly, but the man who shattered it was none the wiser. He thought about the ceremony to come and the woman who had invited him to share in her special day. It was her special day, after all; with what he knew of the fencer, that green-haired freak of nature, there was little in this ceremony that meant anything to the groom. It was solely for the bride that he had come.

He sat impatiently, waiting with narrowed eyes, and surveyed the guest isles occupied by those who had been invited by the groom. As he did, and as he compared it to the empty rows of seats on the bridal side, he began to better understand the loneliness he had seen in Selene. Did she really have so few friends?

OoC: I really didn't want to miss this event--and Sakume and Z were both kind enough to agree to let me be a part. So, even if I'm rusty, here I am to proudly join in on what will probably be my last RP. :3

IC:
A high heel thrust itself into the dragon's side as two hands jerked the beast's neck upward. Somewhere, hanging off the creature's tail, Prince Hunter Merridale screamed as his trousers narrowly missed catching onto the spire of a clock tower.

“No, Avello, I don’t care what you see in the trash down there--" Cadenza shouted over the wind as she steered them back on course, "--we're already late. And since when did your eyesight become so good?”

"Righ-ragh..." the violet dragon whimpered guiltily. He flapped his giant wings frantically as they cleared another spire. Further back, Louis erupted into a chorus of laughter as Merridale scrabbled for purchase and nearly got an unwanted tailoring job done by a flagpole.

Oblivious to the action behind her, Cadenza yelled on: "I can't believe no one at the Dome could find us...bunch of useless halfwits. We'll be lucky if we make it before they..."

The woman's voice trailed off as the grand hall the wedding was to take place in came into view. Anger melted away. She had seen Broccoli Head do a lot of things...heard about a lot of fights, and adventures, and all other sorts of stories. But today, he was getting married. It seemed so...human of him, for once. He always frustrated her with his "above-it-all", righteous level-headedness, but today he was doing something she could actually be proud of him for and could respect. He'd left poor Selene to go off and fight and risk his life and deal with things bigger than himself so many times before...but now he was finally returning to her, and finally tying that true bond of commitment. The gypsy remembered her own wedding, back in the recesses of her memory where she rarely dared to go these days...and felt happy, for the both of them. This was a big day.

Louis and Hunter shut their mouths and watched her like they were waiting for a volcano that wasn't rumbling right now, but they sure as hell expected to be all lava and smoke in a second or two. When they touched down in the hall's front yard and she was still wearing that placid "woman-at-a-wedding" smile, they exchanged glances and shrugged.

Cadenza slid off Avello's back, smoothed out her dress and hair, and rushed for the doors. "What are you two waiting for?" she called back, and Louis thought he heard, even in those words, a merriness he had not expected.

But then, why, he thought, should he be surprised? Two of her friends...even if she'd never admit to them as friends when she was sober, were getting married. No matter what else there might be to worry about, this was a joyous occasion. Bring on the music and the laughter! Bring on the champagne!

An usher in the lobby glanced up to meet the trio striding in. His eyes first went, obviously, to the woman; she was utterly ravishing in her red bridesmaid dress, the fine, crimson cloth hugging her luscious curves until ending in a bloom-like flourish at the bottom, and playing against her olive-colored skin in a way that he found it almost impossible to tear his eyes away from her; she was like a beautiful rose gilt with bronze. Her long, luxuriant raven hair fell in curly tresses, with a few curls pinned back by a ruby-encrusted clip. Her make-up was soft and natural, with lightly flushed cheeks and a slight touch of crimson near the eyes that made the deep blues of them stand out brilliantly. And--in the shadows of her dress, where no one without her magic could ever see--a gunblade, cutlass, and dagger completed the ensemble. With these few accessories taken into consideration, an onlooker might want to revise his view of the color of the dress to something more like blood-red.

She passed the usher, smiling and declaring herself to be a guest of the bride before going through to the main hall. Some moments later, the usher shook his head and pondered over his vague memory of the last two minutes to discover why his tie was damp with his own drool.

He nodded emptily to two men garbed in white tuxedos and red ties as he rung his tie out by a sink. One laughed as he removed a tall, floppy brown hat from his head and went inside.

"He looks like you did when you saw her, Merridale."

If any guests on the grooms' side had looked up at that moment, they might have heard a muffled, "Hush, please," as a princely fellow and a farmer who seemed to have struggled into a tux and wandered in from the fields strode up to meet the groom.

OoC: In case anyone else unexpectedly wants to see the bridesmaids' dress Sakume picked like Honour did, here's the link. Maybe not exactly like that, since Honour seems to think it's too slinky, but something like that, and that color. XP

The front door of the establishment opened once again, a heated breeze slipping through the oaken crevasse as the frames slipped apart, the dryness of the desert seemed to accompany it. Within its lofty arms, this wind carried with it the sweet scent of water, and the acrid taste of metal, and fire, and the sound of silk upon skin and the click of metallic heels upon stone that rang out with a light tempo throughout the antechamber.

Upon her touch the door just seemed to fling itself open, it was surprising considering how heavy the door seemed to look, so perhaps she had used too much force. It also did not help that a wind had seemed to follow her, throughout her journey across land and time, and probably dimensions, to this seemingly far off corner of the multi-verse. This spacious chapel, where one whom had luckily beaten her in a duel was getting betrothed, or rather was betrothed and was now consummating the betrothal… Vana did not really know of such matters, she found such rituals and sacraments pointless, but nonetheless, she would not miss this day.

The ample sunlight that shone full heartedly upon the woman was warm, although not as warm as where she had just been. Her entrance was startling, she was sure, to the usher who stood across from her, his jaw hanging slightly loose. But mayhap it was merely the visage the Coquette painted. The sun was illuminating her from behind, giving fire to the golden and lilac curls that framed her picturesque face, her savory primrose lips and clear amethyst feline oculars were cast in shadow, darkening somewhat although both shone with their innate moisture. It did the same for the, what some call Spanish-style dress she wore, making the silvery viridian a more forest green, and her cream skin a more honey. She blazed, a beauty incarnate, like so many of her sisters.

She walked forth, a sumptuous leg appearing from the slit in her dress as it so often did, the metallic end of her spiked heel clunking dully for effect against the carpeted flooring, the silver colored woven fabric making the old-styled rug appear lackluster in comparison, the reflective surface glaring in the usher’s sight as his range of vision moved downward and then quickly up once again to try and catch the woman’s eyes as they flashed toward him. He moved past her, quickly, shutting the door, which was actually a little heavy to him, removing the blinding glare of the day. He turned toward Vana, a welcoming smile upon his face.

The spy snapped open her fan as he turned to her, the weapon/accessory seeming to appear out of midair into her delicately shaped appendage. She waved it back and forth slowly, methodically, the unmoving air of the place stirred by enmeshed silk that was supported by the customary ironwood slats of the Coquette battle-fan. This fan was not one of her most battle worthy, as it lacked really any offensive options, but this was a marriage ceremony, how much trouble should there be…

“Groom or bride,” he asked, his voice slightly nervous as the buxom blond peered at him uninterested. “Oh, would you like me to take that?” he then added, pointing to the package Vana held in her left arm.

She shifted the weight of the long box slightly, the thick gold muslin and slick lilac velvet ribbon sliding against her perfectly hairless skin effortlessly, as if she were contemplating the weight and contents of it just by how it felt in her arms. She smiled at him lightly, in a way that her plush lips merely stretched upward, but her teeth did not show.

“No, I would rather give it to them myself,” she replied softly, her soft bell-like voice hanging in the air. “Which side do I sit upon?”

The man pointed to the correct one, and Vana followed the direction he pointed to. She decided to sit near the front, in hopes that perhaps before the ceremony began she would be able to give the couple their gifts. It was just that something did not really feel all that right; her feral instincts told her that she did not belong in this place. But perhaps it had been her journey through the treacherous deserts to the blacksmith whom had made the gifts, and the subsequent swift journey back home to have her gifts enchanted by the house’s Kitra Priestess that made her feel this way.

The woman who only looked nine years old ran her hands over the ornate metal. Her fingers following the elegant curves of the rose stem-shaped, and green stained, steel. She touched every single one of the many petals that made up the middle of the fan, somehow even reaching under where they overlapped from one step to the next without cutting herself. She then ran her palm over the red rose heads, tops ground razor sharp, no blood appearing, just a soft red glow. She then put the small, for a battle fan, fan down, and grabbed the dagger but its but, the head of the rose. She redid the same process, hands perusing the wavy blade that was the leaves and some stem, while the stem served mostly as a blood-flow, slightly indented from the rest of the blade.

“Your craftsman did well, very well on these. Which house were they from?” the Kitra asked, her voice wizened far beyond the look of her body.

“Not a house, for this I traveled to a far away land. A place called Hyrule,” Vana replied, looking at the priestess quizzically. “So, what will they do?”

“I need not tell you, you will find out soon enough. Far too soon enough,” she stated, getting up and retreating into her complex hall of rooms.

Suits weren’t exactly his kind of thing, especially with a tie. The black piece around his neck felt like it was choking him. It was a black suit with a white shirt underneath, because nothing else looked really good on him. Except maybe gold, to go with his eyes, but he never did like looking…‘extravagant’. He shifted his weight as he looked into the building and at the groom, who was chatting heartily with his guests. Zorlo never seemed the least bit nervous, even now, he was getting married, something that Rain had never done in a thousand years.

He grinned at the thought of being ‘left behind’ or ‘put in the shade’, but it did not matter. He was just waiting for the right person, that’s all.

And that right person hadn’t come around in a millennium…right.

Rain shook his head, running his hand through his hair while simultaneously patting it down. He smiled at his sister, who was just next to him, before ambling his way over to the groom. He recalled when they had first met, their first fight, which ended up with both of them being thoroughly exhausted. And then right after, Zorlo was introduced to Raisha, before entering another fight, but for sport. And then what happened after, when they went back into town—eh…that was insignificant.

Rain chuckled as he neared his green-haired friend.

***

Raisha watched as Rain moved off, smiling. She didn’t know Zorlo as much, but she was there, anyway. The Aura Master considered her a friend, and she returned it. She accompanied Rain to his wedding, and in formal wear, stilettos, without any weapons—which was a first. She wore a red dress, with two thin straps going over her shoulder. The length went down to her ankle on her left side, while there was a torn ‘style’ which made the right side almost as high as her knees. Her golden hair was neater than usual, with a few strands in front of her face and the length that was usually hanging down, was made into a single roll and draped over her left shoulder at the front as her now trademark necklace with the shimmering blue pendant hung just above her cleavage.

Hesitating a little, her mind wandered her choice of going to see if the bride was okay, but perhaps…she would talk to the groom first, before wandering off. Maybe she could help keep the wedding from going paranormal.

Raisha chuckled as she watched the groom; like if this wedding was going to be normal.

***


“Are you okay?” Raven rested his hand upon the girl’s shoulder, brushing away a few strands of her lengthy hair. Arina nodded, smiling as she pushed her thin-framed glasses further up on her nose. Both wore white, but Arina looked more dazzling than Raven with her literal glow and shin-length hair that she didn’t bother to beautify. She thought it looked gorgeous just like that. Tucked behind her right ear, however, were two brilliantly white feathers, taken from her falcon form. Her outfit covered her whole body, down to her ankles and even her hands, as she was wearing gloves.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t very good at balancing on high heels and took the first seat she came to, feeling slightly foolish and slightly guilty at not being able to walk up to the front.

Raven, not wanting to leave her, sat down next to her. He wore a white outfit as well, but it wasn’t very special. It was just a white suit. There was no tie or anything, and it looked okay, considering he had dark brown hair and eyes. He looked up at the Aura Master who grinned at the two. Raven responded by waving at him, while Arina only smiled.

oOc: Not my best work, but it is done.

Ic:

Looking up from the finely crafted letter in his hand the man coldly nodded to himself, this was the place. The man could not say he was surprised in the least when that small monkey found its way into the man's room, invitation in hand. On the contrary the man had fully expected the letter, and was waiting for it. Though it was his greatest rival, the man knew that Zorolo saw him as a friend, and would not pass up the opportunity for him to have a front row seat at Zorlo's wedding.

The black horse the darkly cloaked man was riding slowed to a stop in front of the entrance of the large building, and without a second though the hooded man disembarked from his horse and pushed the door open gently, trying his best not to attract any attention, which of course means someone noticed his entrance.

“Buddy what's with the get up? I didn't know the Grim Reaper was invited too,” The purple haired stranger looked towards the sound of the annoyingly arrogant voice to see a short blond haired man. The man was dressed in what looked like the most expensive, and fancy suite in that part of the world, his long hair was combed back into a neat pony tail, and the only thing that would have made the young man look any less handsome was the fact he was wearing a black cape over his suite, “Aren't you going to answer, oh wait. I bet you're the strong silent type, seriously dude cheer up it's a wedding not a funeral,”

“Who are you,” The darkly clad stranger said removing his heavy hood exposing his dark purple hair to the light.

“The name's Kaze,” The blond haired man said leaning awkwardly on the much taller strangers shoulder, “But don't tell anyone I am on the lam, and I'm trying to keep a low profile, What about you buddy do you have a name?”

“Tsuukai,” The stranger said shrugging his shoulder to detach the cape wearing fool from it.

“Feisty I see,” The gray eyed Kaze said as he casually floated into the air until he was lying on it at eye level with the black eyed Tsuukai, “You should take your seat bud, the ceremony is starting soon and I would hate to see you have to stand, old man,” The capped man said in a laugh as he casually floated above the pews into his seat beside a pretty young girl.

Tsuukai sighed and turned to the closest usher just as Kaze found himself with a nasty red mark on his cheek courtesy of the young women, “Ah a late comer I see, you're Tsuukai are you not? You fit the description, Lucky for you the groom has a seat reserved just for you. Follow me sir,” Tsuukai coldly nodded and followed closely behind the polite usher until he found himself sitting in his seat rather awkwardly between two people dressed in full suite. Sticking out like a atheist at Vatican the purple haired man calmly waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Her heart seemed to threaten to explode with the speed it gathered as each second passed. Oh, God, help me… okay, it’s almost time… almost time… After this, she would be raiding heaven, fighting her own father, who should be here with her. For a moment, she felt a pang of jealousy towards the girls of normal weddings. They had fathers to walk them down the aisle. No matter… her father was probably preparing the army with her thoughts now. She would return to heaven after this… and she would set things straight.

She could hear the low chattering of anxious souls, in fact, she could almost feel the tension and joy bursting inside the sanctuary. Her gloved hands wrung about the white ribbon tying the huge bouquet of deep, blooming, red roses together. Her teeth chattered behind the forced still lips as she left the small room, her chest heaving as she inhaled and exhaled. Time slowed immensely with each step closer to her future, her love and her life. She stopped before the doors, two ushers beside one another to open them in the next moment. The veil hid details from her view, but it could not hide the fact that there was an immense amount of people inside, all waiting for her appearance.

The music began. The sweet, uplifting notes of the wedding march wafted through the building. The doors were pulled back, revealing the bride clad in her pure white dress, standing before the multitude of people, whom all also stood, watching her. It was at this moment she was glad her feet instinctively moved forward. Two steps… stop. Two steps… stop. He remained there, at the front, hands clasped in front of him, shifting only slightly, that characteristic smile on his face. She briefly wondered if he really felt as calm as he always looked. Her graceful angelic posture was never more visible than at this moment, her movements as swift and beautiful as a river flowing down the carpeted aisle.

Almost there…

She kept her eyes on him. Never did they falter… but once. Only once, when she neared him, to the one figure on her side of the church. She doubted anyone would notice, but her cheeks turned a brief pink beneath the veil. So… he had come as he promised. The rest of the people she did not really recognize, yet she never seemed to fail to keep her lovely smile. She was sure they would all congratulate her after the ceremony and she would learn their identities then. Her side of the church was not empty. Her heart soared with the knowledge that everything was perfect now.

She passed him as she reached the end her walk, turned, allowing Cadenza, one of the few she knew, to help her remove her veil, her glowing, radiant face becoming visible to all, and her mascara running with a tear or two. She blinked repeatedly, stopping the tears for the moment. She had to wait to cry, at least until after the deed was done. The music came to a soft, trailing, halt. She somehow wished it had lasted longer, despite the time it took her to reach her destination, mouthing thanks to the bridesmaid with her help at moving the veil’s trailing out of the main hall. His hand reached out. Hers took it. She turned in perfect sequence with him to face the many guests and swallowed, beginning her speech, one she had rehearsed for so long, it was as if she had known it all her life. Her free hand continued to wring the stems of the roses. She hoped her voice would carry well, despite the tendency for her to be timid. She was deathly afraid of giving a speech in front of such a large audience, but she was determined to do her best, even with the absence of a priest.

“Thank you for all attending this wondrous occasion as both Zorlo and I exchange vows and become no longer two separate individuals, but take a new path, one that links us together though a common bond of love. We can only pray that our marriage bring us peace, joy, and comfort that is known solely through the linking of our hearts.” She paused, blushing a bit, but dimming it quickly. “You may all be seated now.” One little mistake would not ruin her day. No, her wedding day would never be ruined, not by anything.

“An essential requirement of a good marriage is a strong, personal bond of real friendship and trust. Zorlo and I love each other and it grows deeper with each passing day, but it is important, especially in times like these, that it stands on a foundation of genuine, mutual affection and respect towards one another…” she trailed off for a moment, her mind wandering to memories, specifically ones she did not find pleasant to remember now when she should be continuing her speech. She smiled and continued flawlessly.

“To truly love another person, it means to be willing to accept both their strong points and their weak points, with equal measures of understanding and respect. The vows we are about to exchange, they will serve as a verbal representation of the non-verbal emotions that are as real as anything that can be seen, heard, or touched. You are all our witnesses as to these words. But recall that it is not these words which bond us together as one today, but the strength of the love and commitment found deep within our souls.”

She paused after this, turning to face Zorlo, her eyes surrounded by a soft glow. "Do you, Zorlo, take me, Selene Vlaxen, to be your lawful wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do us part?"

She took note of how he answered, the warmth in his smile, the way he squeezed her hand with his answer. "I do." He returned the speech back to her, the same words, but with husband.

"I do." She took a deep breath. Now came the last part of her speech, leaving the actual ring exchange to Zorlo. At least he would do something, for heaven’s sake. Although with him, she felt lucky he showed up to his wedding on time. Her heart began to quicken. Surely no one would speak up with this, especially if the bride herself spoke these words. Still, it had to be done. “If there is any man who has any reasons why we two should not be joined in Holy Matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.” Her eyes seemed to look not at her soon-to-be husband’s, nor the guests, but at the ground. It was all she could do to keep a clear mind.

OoC: After reading these posts, I thought of an IM RP that Altamira and I had and felt it'd be a nice flashback. Mostly because it more clearly explains stuff going on. Also, who's Zorlo's best man.

BiC: Before Zorlo stood before everyone, he thought back on something that had just occurred to him. A discussion he had found himself in with people he hadn't thought would show up. Those people, namely Cadenza, had expressed earlier happiness. When they had vanished, the fencer seemed to be the only one that noticed. Aside from that, the Aura Master let his mind wander as he started walking out. Selene would march soon, but first, he had to take his position.

o=)---------Before 'denza left the Dome-----------(=o

"Let me get the champagne!" Cadenza yelled as she reached into the shadows and pulled out a bottle of champagne, smiling as she looked at the bottle. "By the way, who's your best man?" the shadow mage asked as Hunter raised his hand. Cadenza caught on to the prince's thought, and quickly added, "Not you, Merridale!" She stated firmly.

Zorlo laughed, not like he could help it, and looked at Cadenza. "I think you should know I don't drink," he told the woman.

"But I do," she responded, removing the cork from the alcohol.

"Touche'" Zorlo responded as he looked at Hunter, and then back at Cadenza. "Anyway, 'denza, I was wondering... would you mind being Selene's bride's maid? Sadly... she doesn't know as many people as I do, but she does know you, so I thought you'd bet he best person to ask."

Cadenza looked at the fencer with shock for a moment. "Uh... um... you sure?" she asked. Zorlo nodded silently and Cadenza sighed. "Sure, why not. After all, it is your two's wedding."

"Now then, I need to think about who I want to be my Best Man," Zorlo stated as he looked at the ground, meanwhile Hunter was fighting to get Zorlo's attention.

"What about Rain or Tsuukai?" she asked.

"Although Rain's a cool guy, and Tsuukai's... Tsuukai, they're both rather silent figures and I don't imagine they can out wind me. No, I need someone who's an expert at talking. Someone that can, possibly, put me to shame." With those words, Zorlo and Cadenza looked at at each other, and then Hunter.

"Z... No. Don't even think about it."

"Oh... But he's the best candidate. And look, he really wants to do it!" Zorlo stated.

'denza sighed. "Fine. Go write your speech, Hunter," she stated as she watched Hunter run off. "I guess I'll have to dance with him then..." Cadenza stated bluntly with some level of annoyance.

"Oh, that's why you didn't want him to be my best man. It means you need to dance with him. I didn't know that was required," the fencer stated as he smiled and looked at the ground.

"Just means I'll need more champagne, that's all." With those words, the two laughed and Zorlo broke out of his flashback.

o=)------------Back at the wedding------------(=o

Zorlo snapped out of his mind and back to the wedding. The bride's march began playing and the fencer looked over to Louis Fritz, who was playing the piano like the expert he was. Then, she began to walk down and Zorlo smiled. At that moment, all fears, nervousness and other feelings fled. Something about this moment made him more anxious than he had ever before, in his whole life, been.

Selene now stood next to the fencer and was giving her speech. At that moment, she was as beautiful, if not moreso, than the day the two had met. Zorlo felt content, happy and ready to continue. Selene's words echoed into the group and the fencer looked out silently, waiting for anyone to say anything. That was really all he could do as the ring bearer, Zachary, moved towards the two. Zorlo noticed even Monroe was standing in the absolute back, but at least he had stayed. After all, Zorlo had known Monroe had things to do.