[OOM] The Amondsham-Telane Wedding.
Dec. 14th, 2014 11:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fluffiest_archadianIt is a sorry bunch attending this wedding. The hall in Rabanastre palace where they sit is small, and there are still a handful of empty seats. Still, it's easy to tell who's who:
The garrison command, headed by a grey-haired man who gives off a grandfatherly aura, in their grey and red formal dress, along with a man and a woman dressed similarly, save that their uniform is black and charcoal with red highlights. There's a handful of soldiers who clearly aren't Archadian, too, dressed in blue and cream.
Rabanastre's merchants, dressed in a brightly coloured mismatch of patterned fabrics with hair styled elaborately and jewellery on their wrists and around their necks.
Nobles and ambassadors, by far the smallest of the group, in coloured (but not quite so neon rainbow) silk and wool. Several of them have fans. Most of them are muttering about how Liana is marrying beneath her station (and one so old). One family of four, dressed in canary yellow cloaks fashioned to look like feathers, just look charmed to be there, bar one young man who looks like he's trying to sink into his clothes and avoid the gaze of the garrison.
Business associates of the groom, who if the muttering from others is anything to go by may be celebrities. A few of them are jolly, older people, but most of them look like supermodels who have just stepped off the catwalk.
The wedding is - awkward. A man in very smart clothing with very shiny glasses runs through a set of vows, while the groom (whose shapeless robes really only accentuate the fact that he's about twenty years the senior of his bride) looks apathetic and the bride (of far more fashionable dress) looks distantly scathing, as if she's biting back about a hundred sarcastic comments.
When they are told they may kiss, the peck each other. On the cheeks. Like seagulls whose hearts aren't quite in it.
---
The reception takes place in Rabanastre Palace's expansive ballroom, a room that is opulent and glittering and has walls lined with frescoes depicting the glorious history of Dalmasca in charmingly abstract style.
There is a buffet. It has something very much like turkish delight on one end, but the yellow-cloaked family are converging on it and soon this won't be the case.
Sherral leads his visitors in with the garrison command and their guests.
"No stealing from anyone, no letting on about the magical bar, no killing anyone outside of mutually agreed upon duels," Sherral says. "Apart from that, enjoy yourself. If you see a security concern, Captain Beor," he gestures over at a large man in his twenties, "will no doubt be happy to hear of it."
Beat.
"Have fun."
The garrison command, headed by a grey-haired man who gives off a grandfatherly aura, in their grey and red formal dress, along with a man and a woman dressed similarly, save that their uniform is black and charcoal with red highlights. There's a handful of soldiers who clearly aren't Archadian, too, dressed in blue and cream.
Rabanastre's merchants, dressed in a brightly coloured mismatch of patterned fabrics with hair styled elaborately and jewellery on their wrists and around their necks.
Nobles and ambassadors, by far the smallest of the group, in coloured (but not quite so neon rainbow) silk and wool. Several of them have fans. Most of them are muttering about how Liana is marrying beneath her station (and one so old). One family of four, dressed in canary yellow cloaks fashioned to look like feathers, just look charmed to be there, bar one young man who looks like he's trying to sink into his clothes and avoid the gaze of the garrison.
Business associates of the groom, who if the muttering from others is anything to go by may be celebrities. A few of them are jolly, older people, but most of them look like supermodels who have just stepped off the catwalk.
The wedding is - awkward. A man in very smart clothing with very shiny glasses runs through a set of vows, while the groom (whose shapeless robes really only accentuate the fact that he's about twenty years the senior of his bride) looks apathetic and the bride (of far more fashionable dress) looks distantly scathing, as if she's biting back about a hundred sarcastic comments.
When they are told they may kiss, the peck each other. On the cheeks. Like seagulls whose hearts aren't quite in it.
The reception takes place in Rabanastre Palace's expansive ballroom, a room that is opulent and glittering and has walls lined with frescoes depicting the glorious history of Dalmasca in charmingly abstract style.
There is a buffet. It has something very much like turkish delight on one end, but the yellow-cloaked family are converging on it and soon this won't be the case.
Sherral leads his visitors in with the garrison command and their guests.
"No stealing from anyone, no letting on about the magical bar, no killing anyone outside of mutually agreed upon duels," Sherral says. "Apart from that, enjoy yourself. If you see a security concern, Captain Beor," he gestures over at a large man in his twenties, "will no doubt be happy to hear of it."
Beat.
"Have fun."
Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 04:52 am (UTC)He leans back against the refreshments table, eyeing the crowd. "Interesting crowd. I can see Illan's spotted you." He nods to a neatly dressed and slightly severe military woman in the same uniform as Sherral.
Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 04:53 am (UTC)Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 05:00 am (UTC)Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 05:07 am (UTC)Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 05:13 am (UTC)He sips his drink, watching the crowd. "The bridesmaids look like they want to eat us alive."
Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 05:18 am (UTC)Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 05:38 am (UTC)"Why not." He give Alfred's a little squeeze and picks up some fresh drinks, strutting over to meet the girls. "Ladies, you look thirsty."
Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 05:40 am (UTC)Then he follows Jay with a little extra oomph in his walk.
Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 07:50 am (UTC)Jay finds himself stepping away with the maid of honour, moving away from the group to talk softly and leaving Alfred to do his thing.
After a little bit, he comes back over, resting a hand on Alfred's lower back. "Forgive me, ladies. I just need to borrow my friend here for a moment."
He guides Alfred away, bent close to Alfred's ear. "I need a favour. I'm going to slip out with this one for some quiet conversation but I'm going to need a few things to get past the palace guards. I need three or four respectable look the other way bribes in local currency, your coat, a white handkerchief and your best bet on sympathetic serving staff. Think you can help me out?"
Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-16 08:27 pm (UTC)"Easily done, in terms of serving staff, the ones hovering near the refreshments will work best. They look bored, there's a handkerchief in my coat pocket and give me a few moments for the bribes."
Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-17 02:37 am (UTC)He gives Alfred's hand a little squeeze and smiles. "I own you one. I'll make it up to you later."
Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-17 02:39 am (UTC)Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-17 02:49 am (UTC)Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-17 04:03 am (UTC)Re: Moist.
Date: 2014-12-17 04:19 am (UTC)"Have fun, gorgeous. I'll see you in a while." He heads back over to Ariana Telane.
Re: Moist.
Date: 2015-01-13 12:51 pm (UTC)