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.

Iron would have reacted more to the ceremony. Though he sat quietly, respectful to the wedding, its guests, and the bride and groom, the man sitting in the bridal aisles held an expression easily identifiable as being unidentifiable. Neither a smile nor a frown, not a bitter look or a happy glint in his eye, nor any other sign of visible or imagine emotion touched his face. For all intents and purposes, he may as well have been a corpse sitting and decaying as he watched the bride and groom ... particularly the groom.

The iron-hard gaze had settled on the green-haired man the moment he arrived at the front of the church sanctuary and remained there. When the bride had entered, though his expression had visibly tightened and grown more closed, the warrior had been staring solidly at or through the groom. When she had begun her speech, when all eyes were naturally fastened upon her, when all the men were marveling at her beauty and all the women were mentally picking apart the ways in which they could have done better, his gaze remained on the groom. Even when she gave the permission to be seated, when most eyes would have moved away from their targets for at least a moment, the gaze of the only guest invited by the bride never left the groom. The steel in his two swords shifted and bent more easily than his stare.

Part of it was simple hatred. The other part was buried resentment. Neither showed on his face, but Kichaa felt them both and acknowledged them both with the firm constraint possible only in two kinds of people: the criminally insane and the truly cynical. He ignored them. If it meant giving his friend a day of joy and peace with a man she loved, he would burn every world in the known universe and throw the ashes into a star. Holding a rein on his own feelings and ignoring the desire to pierce a hole in her soon-to-be husband's heart was a simple thing to do, and he would do it for her. He wouldn't be happy about it, but he would do it. He owed her that much.

For the same reason he never looked at her, he never answered her. It was the least he could do. If it was the least he could do to say and do nothing, he would say and do exactly nothing. A small smile crossed his features, but it vanished just as quickly, fading into nothing.

Minutes passed. Hunter smiled across at her, a big, joyous smile of one sharing a special moment with another. She returned it woodenly, with a sort of nod. If one looked closely, could maybe read her features, and recognized the sort of subtle expressions she was prone to, they might have caught the flicker of a frown in her eyes. This was because Cadenza was a sharp woman--she didn't let the horrors on the horizon of the future go forgotten, even if the present was all sunshine and piano melodies at the moment. She knew what was coming next. Was dreading what was coming next.

It wasn't the battle Zorlo had told her about. No--that was reason for worry too, but that was a worry she was as prepared as possible for. What she was dreading was horrific, inevitable, and would leave behind no survivors.

Prince Hunter Merridale was about to deliver a speech--and there wasn't a champagne bottle in sight. Not even the mercy of an empty one to bludgeon yourself over the head with.

There was no relief anywhere to be found.

For a second, she brightened up, considering testing the sturdiness of the chandeliers hanging over them all through the shadows--a convenient snap of one of the chains they hung by, and everyone would be saved from a gruesome death of sheer boredom...but her damned conscience had to show up to the party, and she shrunk back down guiltily, contriving to look like she hadn't been plotting anything at all. Hunter stepped forward then, beaming at the bride and groom before pulling out a few scraps of parchment and raising his hand for attention. He started to speak.

Cadenza winced, and resigned herself to staring at the chandeliers. After a while, the bright lights made little circular after-images dance across her vision. She absent-mindedly thought she might have gone blind. Too bad I didn't go deaf... she thought.

She looked out at the other guests. One man was endeavoring to keep as straight a face as possible--the gypsy recognized that look all too well. On Broccoli Head's considerably more-populous side, Tsuukai was burning a hole into Merridale's head with his stare (probably thinking something like "Please shut up, please shut up!" with enough intensity to make something combust) and behind him, a dark-haired man was dozing next to a vaguely familiar blonde. She didn't bother to look at the bride and groom--she could already picture Zorlo's smiling face, nodding along with the prince's words, without having to even turn around.

"...And so, I wish you both, on the behalf of all those present on this most joyous of occasions, the utmost happiness and good fortune that could ever come to any couple--no, to any whole, as you are now two halves of the same one, with hearts linked inextricably together--and thou.."

Eventually, the speech ended. All those still awake were unhappy about being so. Hunter looked out on the guests, smiled, and took his spot back on the small steps by Zorlo's side.

Louis' snores were echoing throughout the bowels of the piano, setting harmonious strings off vibrating. Everything he did was musical.

Then finally, after a few awkward moments, the hall went silent.

OoC: Oh, this reminds me, no posting order. Now then, to post and keep this story moving through this, the boring part. ^_^

BiC: After Hunter's compelling speech, the fencer smiled and looked at Selene. The only thing that really occurred to Zorlo at that moment was that Zachary was taking his sweet time walking towards the podium. Monroe had already left, probably off to do other things of interest, leaving only a few people. Zorlo looked over towards Fritz quickly, who was still, very clearly, sleeping. Just for a bit of fun, the fencer balled up a bit of aura and flicked it at the musician.

Louis seemed to sit up for a moment, look around, and noticed that, after the ten to twenty minutes Hunter had been talking, the speech was over. Or, maybe it had been longer, Zorlo hadn't really noticed. Again, his only real reason for making Hunter his best man was that the prince had the same knack for speeches and thoughts the Aura Master had. And still, the fencer noticed, shockingly, a good number of people were awake, even if only by a thread.

Mayhap it hadn't occurred to the fencer until that moment, but Zachary had fallen asleep on his feet. No one noticed, since his feet were still dragging towards the two slowly, probably some thought that kept Zachary's feet shuffling. The ice innate stopped in front of the two, his head looking at the floor, his eyes covered over by his hair and the a smile placed over the fencer's as he noticed that the ice mage didn't snore or make any signs he was asleep. Or maybe he was, on some level, conscious?

The Aura Master picked up the ring he had bought for Selene, although he had more wanted to forge one however time made that totally unfeasible, and slipped it onto her finger. The ring was made of white gold with small diamonds lining the band. Aside from that, a large diamond was set atop the ring and surrounded by small emeralds. The diamond shined a bit as the fencer slid his hand out from under Selene and she grabbed his hand, placing the ring she had gotten him on his finger.

"Blessed are the strong, for they are married!" a voice echoed from above the two as Monroe appeared to be standing in the rafters, clapping. "You can now kiss the bride, you dumb ****," Monroe called down, and the fencer smiled as he moved Selene's veil. The Aura Master kissed his bride, and the longest moments of his life seemed to fade away in that moment. Now, there was only the future.

"I knew it would totally be worth staying," Monroe said as he left discreetly, and without breaking anything.

OoC: Yay, more needed stuff! Bam. Short, but done.

BiC:

She closed her eyes at first while kissing him, her arms going about his neck as time once again slowed. The cheering from the aisles faded from her hearing, one eye opening amidst the flashes of color to look at it all. It focused. It blinked. “I love you,” she murmured into the kiss. The eye closed.

Only the future now lay ahead. She kept her eyes straight, the light beyond the chapel doors growing nearer as they ran down the aisle together. At least, as well as she felt capable with high heels. Her lips were spread in a smile, wider than she knew possible. She would never be happier, of this she felt sure, deep within the confines of her naïve mind. Their destination was just to the left of the chapel doors, a doorway which led to the reception room. Now they were married, so came the presents, greetings, and cake. Selene felt her husband sweep her up and swirl her around once as they reached the room. She laughed musically, kissing him once more as he let her go. “Now Zorlo…” she began gently as he put her down, “you remember we’re supposed to greet now. The fighting comes later.”

She paused, seemingly in thought, the two still alone while Louis finished playing the last bit of the departing music. Would he come to the reception, too? She tilted her head. “So you first make sure you thank them for coming and all. When you’re talking to someone you feel can come and fight, tell them quietly. Of course… you know all this. I just don’t want anything to go wrong, is all.” She blushed a little, her cheeks turning pink. “And make sure no one feels pressured. It’s important that if they wish to drop out at any time, it’s expressed they can without any remorse.” Before he could reply, she saw his trademark smile. “Anyway.” She gave him a last kiss. “Let’s finish this.”

As she parted from him, she smiled. “I’ll take one side and you take the other. Things will be faster that way, with people spreading out instead of forming a line or something like that.” She heaved a large, joyous sigh as she admired the ring over her glove. The diamond sparkled in the light of the room, rays of the sun streaming through the glass panes in the church sides. “So beautiful…” the angel murmured in admiration, stopping at the opposite side of Zorlo.

The room itself was plush with dark red carpet, tables of rich food and expansive drinks lining both the left and right, creating a sort of rectangle with the iced cake in the middle of it all. There were two exits, one near Selene and the other, Zorlo, though Selene’s led out to a small hallway with a bathroom while Zorlo’s side led to the main doors. The angel made sure her dress was still spotless, her roses still clutched tightly in one hand. She felt incredibly awkward for some reason beyond her happiness. She had never really been forced to greet people she didn’t know, but she was determined to be charitable and thankful to each and every one. It may be a good idea to get to know the ones that Zorlo had previously described to her especially, and to thank Cadenza for being such a wonderful bridesmaid. Now to wait for the exchange of information and greetings.

Her heart began to beat faster with the thoughts of the future waiting after they finished. So soon they were already confronting her father. Going to war with heaven itself. She nodded slowly. It would all be alright. With Zorlo as her husband and the two of them fighting together, nothing would tear them apart.

She was surely lovely, elegant in a modern way. Her steps were measured, heals making a muffled clack as they met the cloth covered stone, the sheen of her wheaten hair visible under the partial covering of the probably not hand-woven veil. Her dress was the color of freshly fallen snow, her girlish form accentuated by the tight fitting bodice and accentuated hip that led to a train that flowed yet was not gaudy. It was a modern marvel, but it served it purpose, the cloth adding color by contrast to the pallor of the Angel’s flesh. Her steps were slow, the soft music of the piano reverberating throughout the chamber, a tune that seemed distantly familiar, very different than the traditional flute music of the Coquette Realm.

As the woman, Selene was it, reached the end of her ascent to the podium; another woman came forth, and pulled back the Bride’s veil. The woman’s blond locks tumbled freely forth, framing her face beautifully, her ruby lips shining as if dipped in blood, aqua eyes clearly shimmering with emotion. She turned to face the assembled people that sat, lopsidedly so on the Groom’s side, in the hard backed hardwood benches. Words spilled from the Bride’s ruby flesh, her eyes pouring over them before returning to her love.

A smile pulled taut the primrose mouth of the Coquette, Selene’s sentiments were touching, saddeningly so. Love was a concept that had always seemed to elude her, but the emotion was clearly something positive if it made the Bride feel so strongly, her passion was soothing. Red silk slipped across cream skin as Vana crossed one leg over the other. A nimble flick of the wrist opened her fan, no noise emitted or visible movement, Vana did not want to distract people from the ceremony, but for some reason the Coquette was getting warm. Perhaps it was the vestiges of her earlier journey merely catching up with her.

After she finished, a man mounted the podium. And he talked forever. Many a time during his lengthy spiel Vana considered sticking one of her green needles right on his tongue. The temptress could see the blood blossoming from the prick, mingling with his saliva, the toxin that the metal was dipped in already mixing with his life fluids, his mouth finally closing, slipping to fall dead-like at her feet. Her attention lapsed… Lids growing heavy, but she was trained too well to show any change, concentrating upon the ornate stained glass above, tuning out the annoying human male.

A bright flash caught her sensitive feline eyes. She did not notice when the other man had stopped talking, but now Zorlo was about to slip a large ring upon his betrothed. The white gold slid smoothly over the woman’s slim finger, the amount of gemstones that were set in it made the sigil of the two’s matrimony seem gigantean upon the slender Selene, but at least people would know that her husband was rich and cared about her. Vana smirked in her mind, her ice like demeanor not changing as she swept her fan back and forth.

A voice called from above, startling the Coquette visibly. Three purple needels appeared between her fingers, amethyst oculars flashing upward, slit pupil narrowing into dagger thin edges among a sea of the iris, red silk spilling around her form as she rose swiftly. Blond and purple tresses swung wildly with the sudden movement, her angular chin pointed up at the ceiling.

But it was only Monroe, whom she had met previously, when he had been searching for Zorlo, and definitely not to come to the man’s wedding. She smiled venomously at him, sitting back down just as quickly as she had written, the needles reappearing onto the ever-present bracelet upon her wrist. The man’s remarks and eccentric reappearance the Coquette deemed highly unneeded. Being startled was not something she was fond of.

Her picturesque face turned to the couple, a apologetic smile plastered across it, returning the gold-wrapped present to her lap, resuming her statuesque posture.

EDIT:

The pleasantries of the ceremony ended soon after, and the bride and groom sauntered down the aisle, grinning happily, hand in hand. Vana thought briefly if she should be throwing something at the couple as they walked by, rice or flowers. She had seen once people doing that as the bride and groom went away, but mayhap that was after the reception. She did not really know all of the ceremony, having never really attended one. But she knew at least to bring a present, and that she had.

The woman rose from her seat, keen violet eyes watching as individuals filed past her into another room, they were courteous not to step on the edge of her dress or her feet, but not enough to avoid bumping into the woman. She merely stood until a majority of them passed, and then she followed in their wake.

Zorlo and his bride could easily be seen near the center of the room, some people were stepping forward in offering of congratulations, whilst most were nibbling upon small platefuls of food, wandering about socializing. Vana was not up for the latter, and desperately wanted to be rid of her present, the packaging feeling awkward in her perfectly shaped arms. Thus, the Coquette pushed through a throng of people, uncaring if they were offended, but being sure not to spill their food.

The woman stood two feet to the side of the couple, another person exchanging pleasantries with Zorlo. Vana made the motion of smiling, her perfectly primrose lips pulled in such a lovely way, her delicate brow tilting at just the right angle, the only thing that did not truly smile were her crystalline purple eyes, which were as emotionless as jewels. The lighting illuminated her plethora of naturally violet and blond locks; the glowing strands framed her ovular face well, making her sometimes sharp looking chin appear very soft, her swan-like neck cast in shadow which extended down into her cleavage. The bright muslin of the gift reflected strands of almost watery light to play across the fine red silk of Vana’s dress.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice clear and inexpressive. “I do not mean to interrupt your talk, but I have gifts for the both of you.” She hefted the sparkling package once to emphasize her point.

It was all very good; the start of the ceremony, the arrival of the bride — who looked exceptional, by the way. In her glowing dress, she outdid everyone, which was expected. And then came her welcomed speech, the exchange of vows, and then the all too famous “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Yes, there was silence afterwards as people turned their heads slightly, looking around the room as if they were expecting someone to stand and say “I shall never hold my peace!” or something along those lines. There were a good few who stared straight ahead, looking at the couple about to be wed.

Rain leaned forward, propping his chin with his hand while resting his elbow on his knee. The upcoming speech by a merry looking person was sort of long, drawn out. In the midst of it, Raisha had stifled a yawn, and Rain closed his eyes for a few seconds.

Raven and Arina sat at the back, with the purple-haired girl uncomfortably shifting herself every few seconds. She was not used to this kind of dress, while Raven was. He sat back, resting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down a little. She responded with a small smile, her cheeks slightly red with embarrassment.

After hours seemingly went by, the speech came to an end and the man stepped down, allowing the whole ceremony to come out of its pause of silence and proceed. There was a flash; light reflected and refracted continuously off of a round metal laden with jewels that was slipped onto Selene’s finger by the smiling fencer.

There was a shout from above. Raisha tensed, the crystal around her neck pulsing lightly, recognizing the sound of the voice. But it was not thoroughly hostile and as soon as the bride and groom kissed, the crystal fell silent and her body relaxed.

There was thunderous applause, the aisle filling the confetti as Mr. and Mrs. Zorlo ran down the middle of it toward the reception room, where various eats and drinks were laid out in an elaborate manner. The siblings weren’t necessarily hungry, but they did enjoy glasses of champagne. Raven had fun mingling with the guests with Arina quietly by his side, taking her own soft sips of the drink, feeling overpowered by the outstanding personalities that had come to the reception.

Rain and Raisha looked at each other. They knew that even though this was seemingly a happy day, something darker and larger overshadowed it. The blonde glanced at Zorlo, who still had his ever present smile on his face as Rain swiftly laid his eyes upon the bride. He took another sip of the champagne and slowly strode over to the fencer. There was another plan underlying this one; something else was on the couple’s minds other than the present. Raisha, on the other hand, stepped gracefully up to the bride and extended a hand while letting a small smile across her lips. “Congratulations,” she said softly.

Selene paused for a moment, and then very tenderly took the woman’s hand in her own. Her reply was also soft, sensing this guest was quite sweet and gentle, at least now.

“Thank you,” she replied, with a genuine smile of kindness. Immediately she guessed this was not one of the few Zorlo had picked to come with them on their war excursion. Which, to tell the truth, she was glad of. She would not have liked talking about such things until the appropriate time. She began to talk; though she was absent-minded of what it was she talked about. Her mind, though she wished against it, only focused on the upcoming fight. She knew she mentioned something about Zorlo and her future plans of where they would live, as well as children possibly among other things.
Before she knew it, it was time to cut the cake.

She picked up a small piece and fed it to her husband, smearing a bit of it on his face purposely, smiling all the while. He, in return, did the same, though with a little more force, toying with her. She returned the notion again with another piece, this time covering the bottom half of Zorlo’s chin in a sweet, white beard. A small fight of their own erupted within moments, using up half of the bottom layer of the cake. Selene had to surrender before the cake was used as decoration instead of food, laughing out loud as she picked icing from the top half of her body. “I suppose under the circumstances, we can dig in!” she announced as she helped pass out what was left of the cake, still as tasty as ever.


While more reception and greeting went on, she enjoyed meeting those she had never known before and welcoming them to her wedding. She kept an eye on the one guest she wanted to talk to personally. While turning to locate the dark green among the sea of black and formal dress, she decided the time had nearly come to act. She found him easily enough, practically gliding to his side and whispering coolly as she kissed his cheek once.

“Zorlo, dear, don’t you think it’s nearly time? I think you need to get the army together. We should go soon. Before my father does something drastic.” A simple nod from him and a smile was enough for her. “Good. You remember our cover for the other guests. Time for the honeymoon. While you gather those you have brought, I’m going to talk to someone. I’ll be outside in a few minutes, alright?”

Selene parted from him as he began rounding up those whom would accompany them. She scanned the crowd, one finger in her glove going to her teeth for her to chew on while she searched. She knew he wasn’t planned, but she felt he would be essential, in more ways than one. She trusted him. She passed the wedding cake, what was left of it, to a rather secluded spot of the lounge. There he was.

OoC: It's all you, Z. Or someone else. Whoever. We're nearly to the excitement.

The wedding filtered out and the last few people left. The fencer stood outside of the massive building, watching as the last of the people left. Zorlo had, in a stroke of brilliance on his point, sent out special invitations to a select core of people. He had told them what the signal was for their return so they could plan the invasion more thoroughly, not that the Aura Master hadn't already come up with a brilliant plan already. After he finished explaining what he guessed would happen, next came the actual starting of the attack.

The moonlight radiated down brightly upon the landscape, and Zorlo simply smiled. "It's a fine night. Even the Moon Goddess smiles upon us," the fencer said as he reached into his jacket, listening to the door open behind him. "Well, Zachary, thinking of backing out?" the fencer asked as the red haired warrior crossed his arms and moved towards the green haired warrior.

The ice innate shook his head. "I have no regrets. I'll be back. I know that. I've survived worse things before, ya know," the firebrand said as he cast the fencer a smile.

"These are truly the times that test men's souls. Did you say your goodbyes yet?" the green haired man asked as he sat down. The fencer reached his hand into his jacket and removed something, what looked to be several small pieces of paper. Something very strange occurred to him as he opened what he was holding like cards. In fact, that's exactly what they were.

Zachary nodded. "Only one person I really had to say good bye too. I'm sure that things will be fine when all is said and done," the ice mage stated as he looked at the backs of the cards. "By the way, what are those?"

Zorlo closed the cards and looked at the moon. The moon was at its highest point... which means it was time to send out the summons. "One second," the fencer said as he held his left hand out. A small ball of aura formed in his hand and, with a quick upwards motion, the small green ball shot into the air. The fencer closed his hand slightly as the ball of green energy floated into the center of the moon and opened it again a bit, causing the ball of energy to expand. "Now then, for the fun part," the Aura Master said as he closed his hand all the way, causing the ball to implode and release a massive, green flash that expanded beyond the moon's boarders. "They'll know what to do," Zorlo said as he turned back to Zachary.

"I'd hope so. Otherwise you're working with some stupid, stupid people," the ice innate stated jokingly as he looked at Zorlo. "Now then, what are those cards?" he asked, pointing at Z's right hand.

"These are just something I made up a little while ago. It is possible that in Heaven, the king will be able to negate the strengths of even the strongest of us. These are talisman to prevent that from happening. Here is yours," the fencer said as he handed the Ice Elemental one.

"Thanks... Z, but what do we do now?" the red haired youth asked as he placed the talisman in his pocket.

"We wait. The others will be here soon. Selene should be back soon with Kichaa's answer. We'll know our numbers soon enough," Zorlo said as he turned towards the fading, green flash. "Rain, Tsuukai, Vana, Cadenza... thank you," he said quietly, saving the real thanks for when this was over.

OoC: The plot thickens. Okay, now then, when everyone gets there, we'll get started with the fun part. ^_^

The green flash eventually penetrated the shade of a building on the corner, where the gypsy stood leaning against the wall with the coolness of a black cat, nibbling on the end of a candy cigarette for a bit of theatrical effect.

When the gleam reached her eye, she smirked, tossing the candy away, and with some measure of relief, she tore away the constricting bottom half of her bridesmaid's dress to reveal tight, dark red pants and mythril armor. This wasn't her usual stuff, as good as that armor was--she'd gone to Omar Vargas a few days before and had a special suit made when she'd received Zorlo's message. Explaining to him what it was for had been a little tricky...but once he understood, he outdid himself in the craftsmanship. Along with the suit itself, there were armored, flexible gloves, and boots, lightweight but strong like a sheet of refined adamant. Everything was aerodynamic--she wondered just how fast she'd be able to go in it all. If it wasn't for this specific purpose, going that fast could be amazingly fun...

Anyway, the point was, she'd probably prepared more than usual, and now she was sort of eager to try things out. So once that flash came...once the green twinkled in the sky, she bolted. She hurried through the shadows down the street back to the hall, absent-mindedly checking for her weapons like someone checks for their wallet as they drive away from their house, and skidded to a stop when Zach and Zorlo came into view.

When they turned and saw her, she was sauntering as nonchalantly as she could up to them.

"Hola," she said, and nodded.

OoC: I'm pretty rusty--but at least I posted something. ^^;;

Several guests of the groom had decided to occupy the hallway during the large percentage of the reception, sharing ribald jokes and discussing "heavy" subjects that would not have been welcome inside the lounge. Few if the jokes were anything but revolting, and most of the topics were either directed from a skewed perspective or possessing no value whatsoever. The favorite subject seemed to be the taking of bets and commentary on how soon the happy couple would become the ex-couple. The worst conversation was devoted to stipulating on the open-mindedness of the bride.

The participants in that conversation had quietly and quickly disappeared, along with the entire subject.

Aside from a few, all the men and women in the hall had already passed along their well-wishes to the bride and their congratulations to the groom. Only three of them had chosen not to smoke the tobacco being shared freely. Only one of them had chosen to abstain from alcohol. At a glance, most would have guessed that the group shared nothing more substantial than their choice of venue, but that would have been very, very wrong. Everyone in the hall shared on major interest, one that had been ongoing since the moment they walked in the doors. Every last one of them resented the wedding for some reason or another, and all of them had simply congregated to the hallway and to one another as naturally as a school of piranhas.

Of them all, three stood apart from the main body of the group. At the center was Kichaa Mesoa, leaning against the wall and observing the goings-on with a steady tolerance breed from a mixture of contempt and empathy. The wall next to him was occupied by a length of womanhood perhaps four inches shorter than him and proportioned with improbably large assets, fondling some kind of alcohol in a short, stout bottle. Standing with his arms crossed, feet planted, a man not much younger than Kichaa, not an inch shorter, and a great deal wider was glaring daggers of disapproval into the hallway crowd. A cigarette occupied his handsome face, but it was doing no more than burning down to ash.

"I should get it over with," the central figure murmured, half to himself, as he cast a glance at the open door of the reception hall. The woman on the wall next to him—she was almost a part of the wallpaper, she was hung so closely to it—giggled softly and took another sip from the sweet-smelling intoxicant she was nursing. The large man grunted ambiguously. Who the hell had invited him?

Kichaa glanced at the sultry woman, briefly, and made a dissatisfied sort of sound. She was easy on the eyes, he had to give her that, and even drunk she had the dignity to avoid the desperation most women use to get male attention, but she was too tall, to dark, and too much like himself. If their personalities were as similar as their looks, one of them would end up dead or dying within a few very short days of exploratory interest. He cast her a pitifully fake smile and pushed off the wall. At the cost of comfortably shallow companionship, he was taking his own advice and diving into what would be painfully unpleasant for him. Few people accused him of being smart.

The moment he stepped through the door into the reception area, the difference between the bustling merriness of a few minutes before and the quiet stillness of the almost-emptied lounge struck him across the ... brain, or whatever. He found his eyes roving easily, albeit accidentally, to the cadre of friends surrounding the green freak and was immediately caught up in a vague, unsatisfied anger. It burned dully inside him as soon as he laid eyes on the fencer, but he looked away just as quickly. Watching the fencer and his friends brought more than just anger. The jealousy of looking at a man who had it all—he pushed it away. Selene had already spotted him.

OoC: Better late than never...?

As she approached him, her swift walk slowed. She rehearsed in her mind what to say and how to say it. She toyed with her fingertips as she came to a halt, her head slightly bowed, but level with his chest. "You don't have to say congratulations." Her tone became soft, in an emotional and shy way, as if she had no idea how to act. "I've heard enough today." It was an attempt at a happiness amidst the mixed emotions in the room, a light-hearted comment. Despite the mind rehearsals, she had forgotten her lines. He tended to do that to her. "I didn't see you around after the wedding. I was almost afraid you had left." Not a good thing to say, not after he had come just for her when she knew he hadn't really wanted to otherwise.

She took a small breath for courage and began to speak, keeping the story as short as possible. "I don't want to keep you. I just want to ask you something." Her eyes continued to roll upwards, wanting to look in his eyes, but she did not allow herself to move her head. "There is a war coming." She found her posture straightening out of concern. She wanted to convey how serious she was to him. "A war between heaven and us... my father... he wants to rule over it. He's not sane... and now that I am married, he will do everything in his power to keep me from taking rule." Her gaze leveled now with a slight upwards tilt to see Kichaa's neck. "We have gathered some of Zorlo's friends to fight with us, to end his reign and return heaven to a peaceful, serene place as it should be."

Another pause as she tried to sort her thoughts out well. "It will be bloody. Survivors may be few. I... I want to ask you. Will you come?" There. She had said it, and she had never felt more guilty and ugly in her life. She was asking a friend, one of her only real friends, to possibly die while doing something he had no business doing. She felt her eyes began to moisten a bit as she blinked to keep it back. Then, for what she thought might be the last time, she looked up to meet his eyes, hands clasping loosely in front of her stomach.

OoC: I wish I could have done better, but I really couldn't think of much else for now.