The Neathbow Wedding: the Grand Day!

After a long period of meticulous planning August and A___ had finally managed to wrestle through all the things required for a wedding of this scale.

August started sending out the invites, each carefully decorated and handwritten by himself in Viric printed on a Cosmogene background. Both meant to induce rather pleasant dreams for the readers of the letters in question. The Invitations were rather simple, they stated the name of the invitees to the party, along with once more a summation of the events to happen at the wedding.

Each invitation came with a piece of clothing, tailored down to the finest detail for the person receiving them, tailored from Whisper-Satin. These were for the Colourful Carousel, before the Carousel guests could wear clothes of their own choosing, the extra clothing provided by August and Nullman would be for told event to not stain the good clothes of the guests. After the Cortège the guests could switch back into their other clothing should they prefer, as was written on the invitation.

The day itself had finally arrived, August was dressed in his suit of mainly Apocyan and Peligin. He wore his trademark Cosmogene Spectacles, his Irrigo-stained handkerchief neatly in his breast pocket. His name was embroidered onto the suit’s breast pocket in Gant, as well as on his handkerchief, if one looked close enough one could see the name there was made from Violant. His tie was intended to be blank, but he had a few Viric ink stains on it from writing so he had it dyed Viric.
Next to him stood his fiancé, and soon-to-be-wife A___. She was wearing a long draping dress, completely made of Ivory Organza, it was almost a replica of our Traitor Empress’ dress at her own wedding, with of course, it having been altered for Nullman’s size. And a few Neathy additions, she didn’t want her name embroidered onto the dress, and instead had decided to have, in Irrigo-stained Ivory Organza, a chess-piece embroidered onto her veil. Around her waist, not wanting to waste the Irrigo-stained Ivory Organza, tied the rest of it as a ribbon with a bow in it. She clearly loved the colour of Irrigo… it had an unintended effect, whenever someone looked at her dress one would see it as if it was for the first time.

Once all the guests had gathered below the Spires of the Bazaar, while a Master, Mr. Veils interestingly enough, who actually came to look at the clothing, was waiting for them at the gate. The Bishop of Southwark came to the couple to set up things inside the Spire to officially marry them once inside. He would have married them unofficially as well was it not for his busy agenda, at least that’s what he had claimed.

August and A___ went inside the Spires and said their vows for the Bazaar to one another as the small group of explicitly invited guests went inside the Bazaar with them. Once they were officially married, they went outside and the celebration started, at least the one the Bazaar had planned for them.
&quotA toast to my new wife! To my close friends, to my new friends and to my guests!&quot August said, raising his glass as he looked at his guests that had gathered here already.

After this small feast those who wanted to could change into the provided Whisper-Satin clothes, of course, August had provided so many that even guests that weren’t officially invited could join the festivities should they desire so.

[OOC note: the wedding itself is in-game bugging for me, I’ll send invites in-game out as soon as I can, also, Ixc PM me for the contest win.]

The reception has been rather lively, but it had yet to reach the madness I had anticipated of a Neathly celebration hosted by the one and only Honeyaddict, alongside his lovely wife who’s appearance I keep forgetting. In hindsight, that should not have come off as a surprise. He truly embodied the Neath, in such a way you believed that he was crafted from it. No doubt his wife follows true to this as well, if the itinerary they crafted together holds true.

No matter what flowery langauge you use to describe it, there is no denying that the reality that the Colourful Carousel is, to quote a friend, a &quotfood fight&quot. Of course, I am quite giddy with joy. Perhaps a part of me that retains my innocence and childhood whimsy still wishes to recreate the days of my past childhood on the Surface. I wonder as to the appropriate time to change out of my outfit, a rather plain three piece suit, into the white ensemble that has been graciously provided, which has been whispering sweet nothings such as &quotDo you know how hard I am to wash?!&quot For now, I enjoy the feast provided by the Bazaar, alongside my companion, a French woman who has expressed interest in Neathly celebrations. To be honest, I am rather overwhelmed, and the night had hardly begun. This is to be the first wedding I have attended, and to be that of a close friend! I have never truly participated in an event quite like this. I wonder. Perhaps, a toast- No, one has already been provided by the groom, and that seems more the area of Lady Jolanda, the appointed Maid of Honour. Still, I am enjoying myself. I am grateful for the chance to come here and I wish only the best of luck for the newlyweds.

Sooo… Do I get bonus points if I hit Mr Veils during the Carousel?

August laughed and looked at Elizabeth. “No Elizabeth, I don’t think the Masters want to join, and we all need to change first. Also, please don’t throw with food besides the coloured flour and the buckets of water.” He said knowing if he didn’t clarify Elizabeth would most definitely try to chuck a pie or something like that at someone.
August looked around. “I suggest we will all start changing into our Whisper-Satin clothes, unless anyone has a different set of clothing they desire to wear for the Carousel. There are room enough to change in, once you’re done, please gather back around the table, we will start once everyone has changed.” August announced proudly.

Wait. What. I can feel the blood leave my face and fear flood my body as Eliza’s word wash over the reception, despite Honeyaddict’s admonishment reassuring me to an extent. Was she truly mad? I shudder to imagine what the consequences would be if she managed to hit A Master of the Bazaar in the face with a piece of pie. Would there be any survivors? Perhaps if it was Mr Wines, but Mr Veils?! I would say something, but the groom has already said his piece.

I move to get up out of my seat, nevertheless ready to play the part of a harbinger of colours. My companion, Charlotte, has decided to duck out in order to play the role of the observer. Besides, due to our already existent acquantince, she has no reason to accompany me any further this night. Biding farewell, I move to the back, where I swiftly change clothes, and soon make my way to the table, overloaded with an assortment of colours to make a rainbow seethe in envy. It appears that the Carousel of Colours will soon begin. I am rather giddy in anticipation.

What… How dare you suggest I do something like waste a pie?! They’re hard enough to find already. I’m not wasting mine. Though the lamb… Anyway, I knew, but it was worth a shot. And lighten up already, Harry. This is a celebration. You make it sound like a funeral… And you have a date?

Sooo… What about the newlyweds? Any bonus points there?

No. I do not have a date. Nor do I have the atmoshpere of a funeral goer. It is good to see that you are well, as well, as it should be, Eliza. To be honest, your madness is reassuring. I expected nothing less. Now then, regardless of bonus points, I am aiming for you first, Honeyaddict.

I see you’re still a stick in the mud, Harry. Good to see. Let’s double team the newlyweds, shall we?

A marriage of this scale was, of course, a tough one to organize. To feed such a mass of people would be impossible had the groom not announced the gathering of a hunting party weeks prior and hunted thoroughly for there to be a feast on this very day. He wasn’t the only one to be knee-deep in this fuss though, for why else was there his bride for? She also was busy using her potential to the fullest to gather resources, and now that the grand day is finally here so too it signals the long awaited end of the mass thievery of silk and rats that took place around Spite. Some urchins were arrested but the individual which everyone keeps forgetting because of her trademark colour always slipped away. Nullman, as agents call her, was dressed in an excessively decorative pale dress of ivory organza (which she thought was too much but August insisted) and for the first time in her life she was lost. Lost in all the gifts, best wishes and cheer. Her midnighter sort couldn’t allow no rest and the fear of a sudden assassination was everpresent, even if she was still feeling confident and happy next to her husband who was busy shaking hands.

So there she was now, in the spotlight of the crowd, constantly being nudged in the right direction of confidence by her husband (even though the suspicious weeping scars on her face really would make people wonder how she got them) and eventually she managed to smile.

“I’m really glad this many people showed up…!” she whispered carefully to August. “Hope that people won’t target me too much when the colour-throwing starts.”

Yes. That guy is a prick, what with all of his… Vake-y outings.

I am terribly sorry if I have been rude. I just kinda hate that master of the Bazaar.

Jolanda Swan had only stood still during the ceremony; every other second, she kept an eye on everything to make sure it was in its place. Perhaps it was this tiredness that made her ask the Bride three times if she was with the Groom or with the Bride, before noticing the organza and apologizing. Again. And again. In the end she gave up and looked for a suitable partner for the dance, happily waving to August every time she caought a glimpse of him among the Neathbow colours.

August bowed down next to Nullman and whispered in her ear that the flour-throwing wouldn’t hurt and it was a free-for-all everyone was a target if they were clad in Whisper-Satin. He smiled and waved back every time he caught Jolanda waving, until he eventually came over. “Thank you for your great help in keeping this all in check Jolanda, care for a dance in the meanwhile?” He asked with a smile as the guests had already begun throwing coloured flour onto one another, the guests who were still changing would be in for quite a surprise as they would walk into what was essentially Holi, but in the Neath. Combined with a ball, he was glad to see as many people as there were already.

Hahahaha!!! A free-for-all! Harry! Grab those buckets and tables! We’ll need to build a fort if we’re to establish ground superiority!

(OOC: If you are wondering why I am on here, despite my lack of invitation, I was passing by the Bazaar and decided to yell in response to something I heard.)

As Ixc follows the guests inside, he smiles at the spires of the Bazaar, then frowns at Mr. Veils, who thankfully remains unaware of his presence. He gently reaches out and pinches a bit of Veils’ cloak, before gently cutting off the bunching of cloak with a small pair of scissors, and runs like hell into the cover of the crowd.

Of course, he may be safe from Mr. Veils may do to him, but not from something more chilling than Veils’ vicious imagination could come up with- staining his clothes.

A supposedly ‘gentle’ man smeared his Whisper-Satin with a platter of flour. Now, Ixc was seeing red (though it may have been the Violant). He rolls up his sleeves, and delves into merciless war. There would be no prisoners, and no uncolored quarter.

&quotΙ would love to dance August, but of course you realize this will make us a target for even more flour,&quot she says, wiping five different colours off her eyelashes. &quotBy all means though, let us go ahead!&quot
edited by Jolanda Swan on 1/18/2019

Lady Byron appears at the Colourful Carousel in a curiously (but expertly) fashioned gown of, of course, white Whisper-Satin. The top half appears to be a heavily tailored man’s dress shirt cut off just below the ribs, thereby revealing her stomach, sides, and back; the skirts fall to slightly below her knees. The two pieces are attached together by thin chains: a design element borrowed from or inspired by belly dancing.

&quotMy dear August and Nullman,&quot she greets the newlyweds with a beaming smile, &quotcongratulations! May your marriage be as delightful as is this day!&quot

And then she is off to the flour flinging, collecting a handful of red and a handful of green. &quotI’m Swan hunting,&quot she explains, to anyone who will listen.

August took Jolanda by her hand and swung an arm around her waist as they began a fiery dance of the Elder Continent as they were attacked by flour from all sides. August had given up on trying to wipe off the flour from his face and simply grinned as everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves with colouring the others. He had been dyed all colours of the Rainbow by now, his normally brown hair was now bright blue and yellow!
Soon he saw Lady Byron approaching them but before he could greet her, he and Jolanda were met by the green and red flour Byron had in her hands. “Lady Byron, what a pleasure to see you here.” He said with a jolly laugh.

“A pleasure… I will be sure… to return…” Jolanda says, covered in colours. “Tenfold, of course” she smiles in peligin. “Perhaps even twentyfold! After all, we are celebrating the spirit of love!”