| abstract
| - Beach ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ On calm days, the roar of the surf is a muted whisper as it laps at a narrow strip of sand edging the bottom of a series of cliffs. Here, it's evident how the harbor got its name from the peculiar, obsidian shade of the rocks scattered among the fine white sands of the beach. From the water-smoothed, hollowed out bottoms of the cliffs and the debris deposited there, though, it's apparent that high tide reaches far above the available beach, crashing against the cliffs themselves and eroding them. Other than a brisk wind and a few nesting birds who'd managed to find niches in the cliff faces, there is no other company to be had on the small strand. Facing the south, the sunrise might be glimpsed at dawn to the left as a creep of pastel shadings across the water surface, and the sunset a fiery display to the right. The beach has been reserved for a somewhat private function. It is dominated by a long white tent crowded with Demarians in uniform as they prepare drinks and food for guests. On the other side of the tent from the ocean a number of benches have been laid out such that an aisle is created leading to a simple wedding altar. The area is packed with Demarians in smart militia dress uniforms and other finery. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The beach is buzzing with activity. Demarians from all social strata, Senators, militia, and normal folk, have gathered together for the festivities. The Battleclaw stands at the opening of the altar, welcoming people as they arrive and move to sit. Somebody missed the memo... because here comes Aadzrian in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of bright green swimming trunks. They set off his eyes, but that's about all that can be said for them as high fashion. He's also clad in a bunch of tiny bandaids, giving him what looks like, from afar, an unfortunate case of some pox. His eyes widen as he wanders onto the beach, only to be confronted with a number of luminaries- and with just one rueful glance down at his underdressed state, he sets off for the tent briskly. If Aadzrian missed the memo, Cathal wiped his ass with it. He comes wandering somewhat randomly by, spotting the gathering crowd. He lumbers over, dressed in plain, dirty clothing and geared for a wedding reception shootout. He looks around for familiar faces, scratching his crotch idly. Memo? Memo? Jazz isn't even clothed. Well, not entirely anyway. A shirtless Timonae in plain pants and brightly painted boots, his extensive tattoos stand in place of fancy dress. Well. They ARE fancy... Tiana meanders down to the beach, steps careful- high heeled boots aren't exactly easy to walk on sand with! Her only currently useable hand is clutched to the front of her skirt, holding it up to avoid a tripping hazard as she slowly makes way towards the white tent. Been a long time since Nix had to wear a suit, but then again he'd been looking for an excuse to wear that suit that Stars had custom made for the Qua back last year. Keeping with a classic warrior asthetic, he strolls slowly onto the beach, making sure his blade(now the only weapon on him and for a more ceremonial look)is tighly fastened and secured across his back. His right arm is a bit limp at his side, appearing as he took some kind of injury to it recently. At least somebody made *some* effort, even if she missed out on a few details of her attire. Smoketrail comes trailing in with the steady stream of people, paws tucked into suitpant pockets, observing the goings on with a reserved and awkward air; frequently lifting her nose to the salt-tang air until she follows the shifting scents inevitably toward a table laden with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Fulton does not wear anything fancy as he reaches the beach. Just regular clothing. Mingling with the arriving crowd, he slips into the large tent while scanning the gathered faces. His eyes find Silvereye near the altar but he makes no move to approach, offering only the slightest of nods should the Demarian's gaze meet his own by chance. Silvereye takes Tuftcheek's paw, smiling broadly towards the President. "Thank you, sir." He replies, shaking firmly before he releases. The Battleclaw is in his dress uniform. "I'm glad that you could make it out today." As Cathal approaches a militia MP moves to intercept him. "Sir, we can't allow weapons on the premises." "I wouldn't dream of missing it," the Senate President says, gnashing his fangs together. Whiskers flare briefly and then he inclines his snout to Silvereye before taking his leave and settling onto one of the benches, flanked by his guards. Cathal blinks a couple times, having difficulty focusing for a moment. He gives his head a shake, focusing on the MP before him. "'Swha? Oh, weapons. Right. Wha's goin' on here? What am I interruptin'?" "Wat is t'is? Wat is -t'is-?" cries Aadzrian quite jubilantly as he bears down on Silvereye, his initial chagrin at his attire being replaced by cheery curiosity with every step towards the lucky pair. Either he's ignorant or rude, as the departing Tuftcheek gets nothing more than a smile before the Timonae's full attention turns to the groom. "Silver-eye! Is t'is t'at -wedding- I fore-telled al t'ose mont's ago! I am hurt t'at you did no invited me, but here I am. Con-gratulate!" Ripplefur offers a bright smile in return to the president before musing in aside to the battleclaw, "If past history is indication, I think you will have more practice getting everyone else out of trouble." Tiana finally makes it all the way over to the tent, without falling, huzzah! It certainly would have been a pity to ruin all the effort put into her fancy dress, after all. A glance around is taken before she starts to weave her way through the crowd and towards Silvereye to offer her congratulations. Silvereye laughs heartily at Ripplefur's aside, a wider grin on his features as Aadzrian approaches. The Timonae's attire gets a chuckle out of the Battleclaw before he offers his paw. "It sure is." He replies. "Glad to see that you could make it." The MP nods to Cathal. "It's a bonding ceremony, sir." He replies. "You will need to surrender your weapons if you want to come any further. You can retrieve them when you leave." Jest makes her way through the area, sticking to the edges of the crowd. Gray eyes scan and note and her lips remain curved with a friendly nuetral smile. Seeing things so occupied at the moment, Nix seems to be at lost as to what exactly to do. Standing in the background always seemed to be something he was good, so he meanders about the crowd, until he finally finds himself passing the MP and the Killer Whale of an old man. "Would my blade be included in that? It does have cerimonial purposes as well as being peace-tied, however I can turn it over if need be." A small grin is registered for Cathal. "Silvereye's bonding. Almost forgot about it myself." One paw already occupied by a flute of light wine and the other by a canape, Smoketrail leans one hip comfortably against a table end to watch the stream of well wishers that approach the couple. Her ears are lifted and whiskers twitching from more than the simple motions of chewing - she gives all the signs of someone watching a particularly amusing fashion show, orange eyes trailing along the lines of motley-dressed folk. "I had no idea was happen! I had a nice dinner wit' my hus-band and t'en come here for a swim, and-" Aadzrian gestures widely about his head, with a philosophical shrug. He takes the paw for a shake, but his grasp lacks something of its usual strength. "Ah, Lin favor my timing yet again. I look for-ward to cery-mony, and even more of te congrat-tulate!" A brilliant flash of teeth, and the bandaid-studded Timonae has the politeness to get out of the way so others can take his place. Jaswinder might have had ideas about a swim. But it's the food that seems to have drawn his attention. Mmmm. Food. Non-ration-biscuit food. If it were a cartoon, the little mouse has just discovered the cheese-wheel and is rubbing paws together maniacally. Fulton continues to watch the crowd with cold yet wary eyes. With one very familiar face found, the man detaches himself from the main body of people to travel in that direction. "I think," he says upon reaching Jest from behind in what is probably the worst sneaking attempt in his life, "that I owe you a dance." It is barely a whisper, his voice tinged with thinly veiled amusement, though far be it from his visage to betray any such emotion. "An old debt." "...bondin' cerem- Ah, a weddin'. Might take a gander." The large, smelly Lunite starts disarming. He unstraps the shotgun first, unclipping its ammunition drum before handing it over. Likewise he unslings the assault rifle, unloading and surrendering it. The stun gun leaves his hip, piled atop of that. Last he runs his fingers over his brass knuckles, flashing the militiaman his best smile. On some it would charm, but it just highlights the hideous ruin of his face. "Even my knuckles? I love my knuckles, and I can't go causin' much trouble with 'em, aye?" He ahhs at Nix. "Right. Don't know the fella much...shit son, you gone and got yerself all classy lookin'." The arrival of another man in uniform is not exactly something to stare at, given the fact that this /is/ a military wedding. Sergeant Major Tullius Castus moves to the MPs, surrendering his weapon after doing a quick safety check. He smiles, adjusts his beret and proceeds inside. Tiana takes that dastardly Aadzrian's place, a bright smile offered to the couple, "Congratulations! M'ever s'appy f'ya two." Angling her head towards Ripplefur, the Martian offers a little, repectful nod of her chin, "'Allo Miss, ya glowin', if ya don' mind m'sayin'." Ripplefur smiles politely through the stream of greeters, looking over each one with interest if not recognition. In between well-wishes during a lull, she leans over to murmur with an impressed air into her as-yet-Promised's ear, "I have seen different dress on the holovid shows, but I am still amazed at the...imagination of the clothes." Jest turns at the sound of the voice behind her, wariness in place but not enough to do more than make her look quickly. Her eyes widen in recognition and her smile flares up before it is controlled back to simply 'happy' levels. "Do you now? Should I add on additional dances for the interest involved, do you think?" "You won't see it very often. These clothes can be a bit constricting." Nix replies. Theres a pause, before the stoic warrior loosens the belt that holds the sling that carries his blade and pulls it over his shoulder to be handed over. "Glowing?" Ripplefur echoes with an abashed twitch of her ears, not quite understanding the euphemism but intuiting the intended compliment nevertheless. "Ah, thank you," she offers politely, if a little tentatively, in return. Silvereye nods his thanks to Tiana, though he lets Ripplefur reply as the comment was directed at her. Once she answers he leans her way, "Like the moon. Radiant. Beautiful." He grins. "And is it just me but are there are a lot of injured people at our Bonding?" The MP waves both Nix and Cathal through once they are disarmed. Ace had checked her weapons when she had arrived and now just stands off to one side, watching in silence. While Lucius isn't injured per se, there is a visible burn mark on his neck. It's not severe, but it's there - the aftermath of Ace's well placed stun shot. After trying to get a head up over the immensely tall Demarian folk here, he has to find some sort of raised are to search out the bride and groom. But he does, and he finds them! With a smile, the Vanguard soldier heads towards Silvereye and Ripplefur, slowly. Smoketrail's brows rise at the gleeful approach of Jaswinder...hastily slipping a few more cream puffs from a tray before she discreetly gives up her place to the Timonae. A last sip, and she discards her nearly-empty flute to a circulating waiter before finally heading toward the lucky couple herself. Tiana giggles lightly at Silver, head canting back towards 'im, "You'll 'ave t'forgive a lotta us, f'that, Silver. Lotsa us were stuck on TK, but we made it f'ya weddin'!" The Martian offers a little curtsy, then another smile and gets out of the way about as fast as she can in those darned fashionable shoes of hers. Cathal nods to the MP, stepping through. He smirks slightly at Nix, "No kiddin'. I'd say I'd have dressed up had I known, but I don't own anythin' dressy." He scans the crowd, spotting Jest's tiny form. The heavy-set Lunite heads for her with a wave. "I think we can work something out," Fulton replies, one edge of his lip pulling back into a slight smirk. "One dance is plenty, if we make it glorious enough to shock some of these snobby guests. Give them something nasty to talk about. Quite the fancy affair, this wedding. Didn't peg Silvereye for the type. Must be the mate's work." He pauses. "It's always a woman." Aadzrian glances back over the crowd once he's moved on, green on green eyes roving. And then instead of looking for just one seat he seeks out several, perhaps having noted the abundance of familiar faces. Once seating's found the Timonae stands quasi-guard over it, waving a big brown arm for anyone who might recognize that particular meaty appendage. He at least has the grace not to holler in his inimitable voice. "I have noticed," Ripplefur starts responding to Silvereye bemusedly before Tiana's explanation furrows her brow for a moment, and then it clears in surprise. "TK? They mentioned it in the news last night...with those horrible pictures? They were there?" Up till now, her pronunciation has been surprise, but in her startlement there is a lilting foreigness to her syllables. "Talk to Stars sometime. He made this for me. My gift for the holidays last year." the big Qua suggests. Meandering on through the crowd, Nix isn't the greatest conversationalist in the world, so he just decides for now to stand-off and out of the way, finding himself near Ace. Arm folded across his chest he watches the event. "Tired, Kapitan?" he asks still staring outward. Jaswinder has quietly purloined enough fingersnacks to qualify as a meal. Grinning cheerfully, now it's just a matter of finding a seat where he can devour them in peace. Tiana pauses to semi-turn back and bow her head to Ripplefur, "Aye Miss, Jazz an' I were t'one's sendin' t'broadcast from t'Artemis' bridge. But, let's not talk 'bout that now, aye? S'a happy occassion." Lucius comes to a stop near the couple, smiling at them, first, and then giving a nod to Tiana. "Sir." He greets to the male. "Silvereye." More familiarly. "Congratulations on this. Ma'am, I wish you two long years of happiness, and hopefully, lots and lots of kits." Silvereye nods after Tiana. "You're all more than welcome to come and enjoy yourselves." He turns back to Lucius, offering to take his hand and shake it. "Thank you, Sergeant Major." He replies. "Hopefully not too many kits, though. Stars and Swiftfoot that covered." The Battleclaw looks towards the tent. "I think we'll be getting started soon..." "I didn't quite have the warning to do things up proper," Jest says sadly, possibly referring to her clothing, "But? I'm getting sedate in my old age anyway so..." She smiles at him and tilts her head. "Though? For someone such as yourself, darling? I might be inspired to be glorious once more." She holds out her hand to him, gray eyes glinting. Cathal isn't noted just yet. "Lucky?" Tia asks, standing off to the side, "Would ya mind lettin' m'borrow ya arm? Ain't exactly t'easiest outfit t'wander about in on t'sand, m'wearin'." She smiles to the elder Martian. Wave, wave wave... but the motions of Aadzrian's arm are slowing already. His smile softening to be faintly wistful, the Timonae gives it up and sits down heavily in one of the seats, a somewhat graceless gesture. Nonetheless he stretches his long arms out across the backs of all those seats, claiming them in case someone should belatedly wander his way, and closes his eyes. Ripplefur nods, a little uncertainly, after Tiana before becoming distracted by Lucius' approach. "Thank you," she answers with a bright smile once more, though Silvereye's response to the question of kits engenders a stifled sound of mirth. "Yes...I fear the sand will become less comfortable for some guests after too much more time," she says before impulsively touching her nose to Silvereye's cheek and then slipping away. Cathal, never one to ruin a potentially tender moment, blunders on up to Jest and Fulton, greeting them jovially, "Ahoy there, m'chesty Jesty! Who's yer friend?" "Age makes us richer in flavor, my dear," Fulton asserts. "Youth is an illusion. The spirit remains constant, like the stars. Alas," he adds with a mock-sigh, "it seems time has made a poet out of me." He does note the approaching Cathal. "See? I still have to compete for your attention. Some things never change." He offers the newly arrived man a quick nod. "Name's Joe." When one has been small his entire life he grows rather used to the sea of tall, furless legs - on in this case, an unusual crowd of both furred, furry, and scaly, as the New Alhiran populace and its OATO allies descend upon the Demarian beach to offer the Battleclaw their fondest regards. A Castori enters, clambering down the boardwalk with the practiced ease of someone quite comfortable with his size and stature; but perhaps it's difficult to recognize him, at first glance. Something has changed. Standing a little taller, dressing a little sharper, watching the world through older, wiser eyes, Raz Blackpaw touches his bare footpaws upon the warm Demarian sands, nudging through the idle knots of well-wishers toward the checkpoint so he may join those surrounding Silvereye. His weapon is turned in, offered up with a broad smile and a polite /spaciba,/ but not so much as a whisker is flicked when the MP baffles over its unusually frosty texture. "Seven, eh? Quite a bunch." Lucius says to Silvereye, chuckling. "Well a few at least on you. Gods watch over you two." To Tiana, "Of course, sweetheart." Then he turns back to the couple. "Well I'm not going to take any more of your time. Lots of people want to talk to you. But, like I said, my heartfelts." He dips his head and wanders off, looping Tiana's arm in his. Jaswinder plunks himself down near Aadzrian, with hands and pockets full of food. "Some of us didn't get dribgib," he remarks, quietly cheerful. "Damn tired of ration biscuits I am. Want some?" Tiana smiles up to Lucius, content to let her elder kin take the lead and go with him where he will, "Thank ya muchly." She does, however, impose a pause to press a kiss to the other Martian's cheek. Even with someone to lean on, her steps are still -very- careful, what with the sand shifting beneath high heels, and the lengths of her skirt to trip on. Oh my. Smoketrail takes the chance, now that Lucius is departing and Ripplefur has gone as well, to slip in - blithely cutting before others if necessary. "Silver, finally, thank goodness you don't politic at the same rate as you take romancing," she declares with a quick, firm shake of his paw before leaning over and adding not much quieter with a waggle of ears, "And lemme know if you'd like some tips on how t'make sure she's happy at home, eh?" "My attention was always yours, darling. You just needed to take it." Jest demures to Fulton, then winks. She steps back and smiles, "Joe? This is Cathal. Cathal? This is Joe. You've both got the commonality of being ex-crewmen for me." Aadzrian opens his eyes as he hears Jazz's arrival, his smile bright even if lingering exhaustion washes it out a shade. "Oh, hey," he greets lightly. "Did you know this was going on? And no thanks, I just ate with Tir before coming here." He drops the arm on the other Timonae's side of the bench, letting it sprawl carelessly with his hand curving atop a skinned knee. Silvereye laughs at Smoketrail, even if the sound reveals just a /hint/ of embarassment. "And here I thought all those tapes were just a clever ruse..." The Battleclaw replies before turning the handshake into a hug. "Thanks for coming out." A new Demarian emerges from the back of the tent. He's dressed in a militia uniform but doesn't carry himself like a soldier. The chaplain heads towards the altar, a signal that things are about to get underway. Ace nods to Nixkamich, "Da," she says quietly, "Not very much in a mood for a wedding, but I long ago promised them both I would be here when they finally took the plunge." She continues to watch the crowd, eyes finally alighting on one of the smaller guests and a smile touches the corners of her mouth. It doesn't matter how well dressed he may be, a mat always knows her son. Jaswinder shrugs, a 'your loss' sort of shrug, and sets about savoring all the nice flavors he's purloined, watching the proceedings with bright eyeed attention. And the occasional crunch. Cathal's mangled face breaks into a grin as the old Lunite offers Joe a massive, meaty hand to shake. "Good ta meet ya. What made -you- bail it out? Her walkin' around in her underwear all the time? -Offensive-." He winks at Jest rather oddly, holding the eyelid shut very tightly and for an unnecessarily long time while he leans his head in and out and in again, whispering not as quietly as would be ideal, "-Sorry-, I'm a little stoned. Shhhhhhh." He holds a finger to his lips, but has been momentarily fascinated by the noise, so he attempts it a few more times. "Shhhh. Shhhhhhhh. Sh. Heh." Fulton shakes the hand. "I'm not the type to stick around in one place for too long," he offers by way of reply. "Oh, that looks like the guy who tells them they're married," Aadzrian hisses to Jazz quietly, pointing up at the man approaching the altar. "At least, I think so." He twists around lithely in his seat and indulges in one more bout of frantic waving at the crowd, but it's brief. The shorter Timonae's attention inexorably returns to the chaplain, regarding him with blank curiosity. "I cannot blame you, but take it for what it is. This is a good thing." Nix replies with a nod. "If anything, its a pleasing sight far from what we seen the past two weeks. But enough of such grim talk." He smiles a genuine smile for a change. "Consider this a silver lining of sorts. He too goes back to watching. Lucius leans in to give Tia a kiss on the cheek, too, motioning towards one of the further benches. In Latin he says, "Come, let's find a seat. This is getting started." Jest winces a little and pats Cathal on one dirty shoulder, "Alright, alright. You are very funny, handsome. Let's get you to a seat so you won't embarrass yourself too much more." She begins to do her best to lead the large lunite, then glances to Joe, "Come come, gorgous. You /are/ going to sit with me, correct?" "Ruse?" Smoketrail begins with theatrical affront before the hug catches her by surprise and she gives an answering thump on his back. "Hey, wouldn' miss it for the world...or even a conspiracy or two," she muses, though when she pulls back her smile is soft and genuine; a little nostalgic and perhaps a touch envious. "Glad we all made it this far. It's a good day t'be bonded. All that happy stuff and forever wishes. I'll be in touch, right?" she ends with a last clap upon his shoulder before she is pulling away. "'Course." Tia replies in kind, again, letting Lucius lead on, "Guess this means ya get t'be m'impromtu date." She giggles at that. The white furred chaplain shares a few words with Silvereye before he steps up to the altar. "We'll give people a few minutes to get settled and then we will begin." He announces, pushing his spectacles up on his nose as he leafs through a book. Cathal smiles hazily down at Jest, letting himself be lead along and patting her arm affectionately. "Hey, do ya realize...we're like...-ear brothers-, now. Er, sisters. Uh...one o' each." He peers closely at Jest's missing lobe. "...but I'm more o' one." His head cranes around to look at Joe. "Oh aye, ya gotta. My virtue ain't safe with Jest alone." Lucius's eyes crease as he smiles broadly. "I suppose so. How's the other half doing? Got him to the hospital?"" The Latin speaking man helps Tiana takes a seat before he does so himself, smoothing out his pants. "Like I have a choice. Who could resist your allure?" Fulton moves to follow. "I also need rested feet if I want to try and repay that old debt. Age, alas." Ripplefur has been bustled aside by two assistants - two bridesmaids of sorts, helping with last minute adjustments to her appearance and laying a wreath of woven leaves dotted by tiny berries upon her head. Thus prepared, she is finally led to one side of the altar where she waits for the ceremony to begin, her gaze roaming mostly over the crowd though she is unable to help herself and it occasionally flits toward Silvereye. "Cathal. Don't you know it is rude to mention a lady's flaws?" Jest grumbles and promptly elbows the man. Whether he feels it or not may be entirely up in the air. Her answer to Fulton might be read in the sway to her hips. Tiana shakes her head lightly as she smoothes down her skirt upon sitting down, speaking in Latin still as well, "'Fraid not yet. 'E was sleepin' still, an' I don' think there's any'un of us who coul' move 'im terribly easily. An' I learned a while ago, it ain't a terribly good idea t'try an' wake 'im up. I c'n -now-, but 'es terribly jumpy sometimes. I'll make sure 'e goes, just as soon as this is done." Turning his attention from the MP to the rows upon rows of seats, Raz swivels seashell ears this way and that, nose wrinkling. He drinks in the sounds and smells upon the salty air while black eyes skim those present, perhaps searching for familiar faces just as much as seeking an empty seat. He tugs at his collar, eyeridge knitting - and then ears prick up. Stepping further ahead, heedless of those stepping around and over him, the young ursinoid blinks at the sea of faces, until dark eyes meet dark eyes. Muzzle parting in a canine smile, white and wide, the youngest Fox pockets his forepaws and waddles toward Ace to take the seat nearest her, if possible. Cathal isn't feeling any pain, so he just grins toothily at the violent little woman. "S'alright, darlin'- I still think yer pretty, even if ya do have most of yer ear still. Ain't as style as me." The hazy man randomly decides the next set of three seats must be claimed, and he lumbers through, his vast bulk settling in the third and final. Ace nods to Nix, "I suppose," she replies, watching Raz approach as she looks around for a seat, moving to take one near Aadzrian. "What, you are getting to old and dignified to offer you mat a hug?" she asks Raz wryly. Fulton continues to trail along with Jest and Cathal, for the time being silent, waiting to take his seat. The half of the bench on Aadz's other side had been left unclaimed, perhaps because nobody wants to sit next to an excited Timonae with a bizarre skin condition, and he gladly scoots over to make room for Ace, Nix, Raz and whoever else might be coming. This has the end result of him getting into Jazz's personal space to a possibly uncomfortable degree, not that he seems to care. Nope- after a brief, bright smile for the new arrivals, his gaze is glued on that chaplain as if wonders are about to drip from his lips. The chaplain watches people settle in, while Silvereye slips off, away from the altar to go join his Promised. He flashes her a smile. A light sound of flute playing signals that the ceremony is set to begin. "Alright." The chaplain says, voice easily carrying over the assembled well wishers. "We are here today to celebrate one of our oldest and fondest customs. I thank the friends and well-wishers of Silvereye and Ripplefur for sharing this day with them. Let us welcome them as they have welcomed us." The flute playing picks up and is joined by strings, the signal for the couple to begin down the aisle. Nixkamich as well moves as away toward the nearest open. Whoever its next to is little concern, which happens to be the bench hat Aadz left open for the others to take a seat on. Jest settles, releases Cathal and pretends to pay attention to the service. Newt runs upto the crowd, almost tripping in the sand at one stage and begins to make his way through the guests. Smoketrail slips toward the back, taking a seat not too far from Jest'liana and one row behind; hooking an elbow over the chair's back and leaning comfortably into the support to watch. Grinning all the while, Raz stands on his chair to wrap an arm around Ace's shoulders and pull her in long enough to press his snout to her temple. "Shhh," he requests after that, touching a finger to his lips before indicating the burst of music with a rock of his head, and then he's sitting again. Ripplefur is smiling back at Silvereye even before he reaches her, the nervous twitch of her ears betraying her excitement and apprehension though she extends an arm steadily enough to hook it through his when he stands by her side. Poised and bolstered by a deeper breath, she walks alongside him in measured steps as they approach the chaplain. Smoketrail slips toward the back, taking a seat not too far from Jest'liana and one row behind; hooking an elbow over the chair's back and leaning comfortably into the support to watch. Fulton takes the third seat and leans back, arms folded across his chest. "I've not been to a wedding in... many years," he comments in a whisper to Jest. "Since Sanctuary. The... McGrath affair, I think? At least that one had people drunk /before/ the ceremony. Alcohol does make these things easier to digest." Swiftfoot slips in, a bit late to be sure, and quietly takes a place toward the back of the crowd -- so as to disturb the least number of people, of course. She seems to be alone. For the most part, the remaining guests are settling in with a few last rustlings and shiftings of chairs and positions. Even the staff have stilled respectfully to watch, though the militia personnel tasked with maintaining the peace remain watchful of both the surroundings and the area which they guard. Ace smiles and silently returns the hug, smiling at the cub, albeit a bit wearily before she settles back to watch. "There... was that woman. With the big hat and the bad manners?" Jest says slowly. She shakes her head a little, "Gods. We can hope this one doesn't go like that, at least I hope." On the crowded bench, Nix seems to of found himself next to Aadz somehow. "Your always so formal." he jokes dryly in a low voice before quieting down to listen to the ceremony commence. From the aptly named 'Ocean View Walk' arrives something of an echo from the past: a Demarian with a snow-white coat dappled with rosettes of silver with ashen petals, bright amber eyes, and a distinctively black tail. Clad in regal dress attire of black velvet with crimson details upon the cuffs and collar, he pads onto the beach and towards the main gathering of people, though maintaining a somewhat awkward distance around the fringes as he draws closer. His is very much the part of a ghost of memory and lore, having little place within the context of recent events, but evidently relating to this event all the same. It is the role of an outsider, if you will; of an old friend. Lost in the midst of current events, but evidently sure of his direction and purpose here all the same, ears flicking as he mostly attempts to avoid everyone else, though apparently on alert for anyone he might know all the same. Aadzrian actually remains quiet for once, seemingly intrigued enough to keep his trap shut. Green-on-green eyes dart between the advancing couple and the chaplain, and Nix gets nothing more than a very abashed grin from the thoroughly undressed Timonae. Newt spots his group and scoots on over and in and plants his suited self into a seat. Fulton raises an eyebrow, keeping his eyes on the ceremony. "Vampire?" he asks, amused. "We'll see, we'll see." Smoketrail is, for the most part, watching the ceremony. But with the slow, respectful pacing, she is left plenty of time to glance aside at various distractions - one of which handily captures her attention fully. Betraying her surprise with a sharp prick of her ears and a stiffening of her boneless slouch, she blinks twice at the apparition of Darktail before waiting until his gaze roams in her direction and making a motion to invite him over, waving toward one of the empty seats next to her. Silvereye advances up the aisle with Ripplefur, placing one paw over her arm as they walk towards the altar. It seems like an impossible distance away but soon they have arrived. He glances down at her, smiling broadly before he looks at the chaplain, who greets them with a nod. "Ripplefur and Silvereye have come a long way to be with us here today." The chaplain announces. "We have all come a long way to be here today." He amends, looking up from the couple to the crowd and then back again. "They are fortunate enough to found each other along the way. To be Bonded is a sacred commitment, the joining of two into one, an affirmation of a common purpose in a shared life." Crunch. Crunch. Crunchcrunchcrunch. Jazz doesn't exactly have popcorn, but the snacks weren't exactly all of the squishy variety. He does at least chew with his mouth closed, while watching everything interestedly. Cathal watches his hands intently as he wiggles his fingers ve-ry slowly, following the notes of the background flute. Jest's voice drops to a polite whisper as she speaks with Cathal and Fulton, eyes glued to the ceremony. The thoughtful expression on Aadzrian's face at the chaplain's words suggests the usual wedding pablum is, to him, something worth deep philosophical consideration. Still smiling, he strokes his beard contemplatively, one of his bandaids falling off. If the Snowcat has noticed Smoketrail's summon, it doesn't seem to have registered; at least, not right away. There are a few moments in which Darktail seems distracted by a nearby conversation, and then a register of recognition as perhaps notices someone he knows, or someone who reminds him of someone else... and then, with a flick of an ear in her direction and the sudden halt of any tail-related movement, she snares him. For a brief moment, Darktail looks utterly lost - but this is an expression that is fleeting as he diverges a little to move towards the female Demarian. Though his visage remains without feature as he closes the distance, his dark tail - now swishing at full clip - betrays more hidden feelings. Fulton smiles. "I'll keep that idea in mind if I feel myself drifting off in sleep." "But, what do I know?" The chaplain grins. "More meaningful than any priest given tidbit of religion are the words that Ripplefur and Silvereye have chosen for one another, words that will inspire their future life together." Silvereye turns to face Ripplefur as the chaplain steps back, taking her paws in his. Smoketrail's head turns vaguely back toward the altar, but from the slant of her gaze, she watches Darktail's movements until he is taking a sure path in her general direction before finally seeming to focus completely upon the ceremony; waiting until he is near enough before tilting her muzzle to murmur something quietly for his ear alone. Tuftcheek tilts his snout as he considers the chaplain's comments and watches Silvereye take Ripplefur's paws in his own. His gaze then drifts to the newly arrived white Demarian. His ears twitch in a half-circle. Raz tips his snout back and leans into Ace, eyes on the events while he whispers something to her. Jest's fingers pluck at her sleeve, briefly. Nixkamich shifts his weight off his right arm, settling into his seat as comfortably as he possibly can. As per any other situation, the Qua is as always stoic as usual. Aadzrian's smile only deepens as the chaplain suggests more personal words, the Timonae leaning forward slightly. From the level of intent excitement on his face, one might think he was watching a truly engaging sports match or scantily clad woman. Darktail's ears flick once, and then again, in the wake of Smoketrail's private commentary. However, the smile that follows those hidden words draw only a mirthless smile, and for the moment it would seem that the Snowcat can't find the strength to look at his female counterpart directly to gaze upon the ceremony itself. "If only that werre so," he laments with just a twinge of regret; his purring tone remains, but the distinctive Sivadian accent it once held seems to be little more than a whisper now, giving way to a curiously neutral dialect indeed. "Trry nostalgia," he softly corrects, finally looking upon Smoketrail directly. "You'rre not helping with that, either," he points out between the two of them - though that comment elicits a genuine smile this time. Ripplefur grins at the chaplain's words before she is turning to her promised...and as he takes her fingers in his, her grin widens into a helpless smile. "The ocean. A city. Other worlds. For all my life, these had only been stories...just as much a fairy tale as love and glorious quests and adventure. But in only a few Gleamings, I have experienced it all; every single one." A short phrase, in a lilting dialect that is tantalizingly like Demarese, yet unfamiliar to even native speakers, and she translates with a gentler smile, "The dunes shift with the will of the wind. I have been changed, but not only do I not protest, I glory in my new shape. Thank you, Silvereye...and I look forward to all the new things that I will continue to experience with our merging." "Hm," notes Fulton as he quietly listens, both a comment and statement. Smoketrail turns one ear attentively toward the words of the former Runner of all tribes, but as her new companion responds her other ear swivels to catch his words. At the conclusion of Ripplefur's words, she turns to grant Darktail a crooked grin; head tilted with a rakish air of teasing in her narrowed gaze. "S'not a bad thing to revisit every once in awhile," she muses quietly, speech blunted by the neutral patois of a shipper who has visited too many worlds to stick to just one accent. "'Specially in times of change. Never know what new opportunities might crop up." "I remember," Silvereye begins once he has allowed the weight of his Promised's words to sink in. "The first time that I met you. We had just returned, and you were reacquainting us with the world that we had left." He smiles softly. "I had no idea that our paths would cross again, and again. I am in awe of you, Ripplefur Windchaser. Your intelligence and practicality grounds me when I am overambitious. Your beauty inspires me when I grow weary. And always you remind me of where we really find courage, not in any weapon but in the strength of our own souls. You complete my soul, Ripplefur, you bless me with your better qualities. If I have shown you new worlds you have shown me what really matters in the world we already share. I thank you, and I love you. There is nothing else that needs to be said." Jest smiles slightly but then blinks. She takes out her PDA, frowning a little as a message comes through. It is skimmed breifly and her lips thin before she returns the offending bit of technology to its place. Awww. Nothing stoic about Aadzrian, grinning like an idiot as he listens to the two heartfelt declarations, the softness of his expression profoundly touched. Timonae may not fully understand marriage, but judging by his expression, a few good words of love break the language barrier. For a big pile of muscles, he's rather sappy. "Is they going to kiss?" Raz blurts out, suddenly horrified. Jazz, sitting right next to him, seems to be watching all this with about the same attitude held by a long-term spouse when the Other Half is sniffling and bawling at soap operas. Which is to say...it's entertainment, but he'd not mind at all if someone changed the channel to an action movie's explosion scene about now. The free food at least keeps him quiet. Crunch. Crunch. Folded arms and icy eyes betray not a hint of what plagues the mind within. Instead, for the second time, Fulton issues a most eloquent opinion to be interpreted as desired: "Hm." The times Nix actually decides to let some form of expression past that stony expression thats constantly plastered on him is, for this moment gone, appearing more human than usual. An unusal trait of his to be sure. He stifles a chuckle from Raz's comment before plucking a white cloth hankercheif to extend to Aadz. "It depends on what you'rre rrevisiting," Darktail offers in kind, giving the ceremony his full overt attention now, though keeping an ear turned towards Smoketrail all the same, his voice as quiet as her own. Evidently, the teasing seems to have little effect. "Therre arre some places I'd rrather not tread again, and some opportunities I'd rrather decline." Though his words are soft, they are equally somber, it seems. His tail flicks once or twice at that, and then begins a more calculated sway - a sleek black metronome, back and forth and back and forth. A pause, and the Snowcat grants Smoketrail a fond side-long glance of his own. "I'll let you figurre out if you fall underr those categorries," he purrs. Cathal has been quiet, respectful and utterly still. Who says he can't beh- oh god he's asleep. His arms are folded across his massive chest with his mangled head drooping over them. Thankfully he isn't snoring. Tiana is an utter sap, so of course the Martian is sniffling and crying happy tears for the happy couple. Aadzrian takes the handkerchief, wallowing in his sentimentality. He hisses softly over to Raz, "Yes, be-cause t'ey *love* eash ot'er. Some-day if you are lucky you wil find some-body to loving in jus te same way. And you wil kiss t'em, too. -Lots of times-." Yes... the Timonae's actually dabbing at his eyes, though it doesn't seem he's going to start outright sobbing. "Do you have the bracelets?" The chaplain interjects after a reflective moment of silence, though he knows he's not the star of the show. Jaswinder ...just facepalms at this speech. "Aadz," he says, very quietly, "Shut up b'fore I force feed you whatever this squidgy thing is." Jest shifts her weight, tucking a loose strand of hair back behind one ear. Sleeping Cathals are allowed to let lie. Nixkamich pats Aadz lightly on the back, finding a small bit of humour. "Let the hopeless romantic weep if he wishes to." he states lowly. "I -am- little hungry again," Aadzrian confesses to Jazz, under his breath. Dab dab. Fulton's face remains stoic as he leans closer to Jest and whispers. "Good grief. I'd pay to have Vampire's sister here right now." Jaswinder *gladly* offers Aadzrian what's left of his purloined appetizers. Holds out hands full of them. Anything to not be sitting next to a bawling undersized burlyman. Ripplefur reluctantly turns her gaze aside to find one of the assistants holding up a small pillow with a smile. Upon the satin surface rests a bracelet; wide, a cage of platinum worked in arcane designs - ones that Silvereye might recognize from the patterns that permeate Daggerfalls' architecture - set into a polished ring of sandstone. Picking it up, she runs the pad of her thumb over the smooth surface before slipping it upon Silvereye's arm with a grin. A soft snort veers dangerously toward a full out chortle at Darktail's addendum. Smoketrail emits all appearances of focusing fully upon what is happening before the altar even as she muses out of the corner of her mouth, "Well, are you sticking 'round long 'nough for me t'figure it out? Or do I gotta go for broke and employ less entertaining but more efficient methods?" Ace smiles down at Raz, "Da, is traditional at bondings and weddings. Is not nearly so bad as you make it sound." A brown hand sneaks out, purloining one of the appetizers from Jaswinder in turn. Aadzrian manages to eat, make sure no tears actually make it from his eyes down his cheeks, and raptly watch the bracelet-offering all at the same time. Now no one's making touching speeches his eyes begin to dry, and he lowers the handkerchief after just a few more pats. But... he's still smiling stupidly wide. Silvereye grins in return, tailtip twitching in nervous excitement as he studies the bracelet being set upon his arm. As soon as it is on, its weight to become familiar in the coming weeks, he turns towards his own attendant. He retrieves a similar bracelet. It is backed in gold and polished to a mirror shine. Its design is more simple, an inlay of silver that simultaneously suggests desert dunes and the flow of the wind, worked so that one becomes indistinguishable from the other as the bearer studies its surface. Fulton's stone facade is once again broken by a smile. "I'll still owe you, then. Some other time, soon. I am a man of my word, after all." "It depends," Darktail muses; his amber gaze is upon the altar as well, but those perked ears are there for more than just show. "Am I assume that "sticking 'rround long 'nough" will be worth my time?" There's a curiosity of speech in that comment; a tone that sounds more like a contract is being negocited than mere common banter, though one that is blunted somewhat by the smile that rests upon his muzzle as he and Smoketrail speak in hushed tones. While the overt disgust fades as quick as a blink, some degree of exasperation continues to descend over Raz's countenance when the exact definition of /Bonding/ makes itself known. Save for that one outburst, he remains polite, sitting up straight and zipping his lip after the chastisement - but it should be noted that his ears droop and eyes begin to glaze over. The emotionally-sensitive Aadzrian is now sandwiched between two well-wishers who, while by no means indifferent to Silvereye's joy, would give half their arms for a set of headphones right about now. Newt's just watching quietly, attention completely focused on the ceremony. The chaplain smiles. "Then by the grace of Brakir I declare that Silvereye Paintedheart and Ripplefur Windchaser are Bonded. You may kiss one another." "Good God, woman. Isn't that one of Marlan's ships? How did you manage to get the stink out?" Fulton inquires, grinning. "I may stop by later. Much as I hate formalities, I owe Silvereye the courtesy of wishing him well in person. Or admonishing him on the hideous mistake he just made. I'm sure he'll welcome both. After that... we'll see. Ah, here's the kiss." "Just what did you think this was, Raz?" Ace asks softly. Tiana veritably clings to Lucius' arm as she keeps on crying those happy tears. Her expression remains incredibly bright, eyes fixed on the couple. "It's beautiful," Ripplefur unconsciously murmurs in that short, contemplative space, her gaze flitting indecisively between her now-bonded's features and the polished piece that rests upon her wrist. But at the chaplain's declaration, a wide smile overtakes her face, and she unhesitantly leans up to touch muzzles with the battleclaw. Aadzrian outright beams at the kiss, glancing around himself surreptitiously. He shoves what's left of that appetizer in his mouth and- heedless of whether or not he's the only one- begins to applaud the newlyweds with great enthusiasm. Lucius is used to Tiana's crying, so it doesn't deserve a second glance from the Martian soldier. He brings his hands together and claps heartily. Cathal's is snapped violently awake by Aadzrian's applause, his own hands coming automatically together to clap as his head jerks up and his eyes fly open, starring around blearily. Nixkamich lets out a 'yip' like sound, as custom with his people in celebrations such as these, before starting to clap along with all the rest. Jest moves to stand up, clapping politely even as she starts to inch past through the rows to exit. "And just what would you consider 'worth' your time these days, hm?" This time, Smoketrail turns to her companion to punctuate her question with a suggestive arch of brows and waggle of ears; the expression too exaggerated to be taken seriously even as she starts clapping enthusiastically right on cue. Silvereye gathers Ripplefur up in his arms at the chaplain's suggestion. He returns the kiss deeply and passionately. The Demarians in the crowd erupt in cheers and applause as the deed is finally, finally, done. Fulton chuckles and stands up, offering a few polite claps. Gulp. Once Aadzrian's swallowed down the last few bites, he adds full-throated cheers to his celebration.. and a debatably lewd whistle at the depth of that kiss. The only thing that can be said in favor of his manners is that he errs on the side of sheer enthusiasm. Discreetly, amidst groans or smirks, there are quite a few exchanges of currency amidst the crowd as the battleclaw's relationship status is finally stamped and sealed. Include among those Demarians cheering one Swiftfoot Windracer, until now sitting very quietly in the back of the crowd. Tiana cannot clap for that one arm being held to her chest via sling, but she can cheer and does so quite merrily midst that crying. "Well, time is money," Darktail offers a moment ahead of the ripple of applause that spreads through the gathered crowd. He doesn't seem take part in the act himself, however, content instead to stand and watch with quiet respect. Once the clapping dies off, he adds, "And money is money, too. But you're Smoketrail, so all bets are all. I suppose you'll have to figurre that one out yourrself as well." For all his attempt, though, Darktail doesn't really pull off the "soldier of fortune" act very well - at least not with Smoketrail. Besides, that smile keeps giving it away, even while watching the newly bonded couple as best he can from the back of the proverbial pack. Newt joins in the applause though he does remain silent. As the ceremony is concluded and the seated crowd begins to break up, there is a bustle of activity as the original hors d'oeuvres are exchanged with a bit more filling fare - not to mention that the available drink selections are also topped off. Raz stands up and claps, too, towering mightily - for a Castori - on his seat. "Did nyet think tall furred kind were much silly tall /furless,/" he drawls, but it's all in good humor. As the noise and clamor of cheer dies down, he is laughing and shaking his furry head, easing back down into his seat. Demarisns still in possession of their full coat do not blush, but Ripplefur is breathlessly abashed in the wake of the kiss and the applause. Nevertheless, grinning deliriously, she casts a little wave to the audience before she and Silvereye are moving aside, soon to be inundanted by congratulators. Aadzrian sighs in content as the clapping subsides, though he's one of the last to cease. The Timonae sprawls back on the bench, still looking almost as happy as if -he- just got married... or, perhaps, happier. "T'at is marry-age," he informs Raz. "And t'ough really marry-age is a silly t'ing, it make lot of people very happy. Including you when you are older!" "Well, they are," Ace chuckles, "But now, it is a party, da? Make certain you tell the two of them you are happy for them." Cathal twists in his chair towards Jest and Joe, "...shit, how long was I out? I'm all sobered up." Jest chuckles, "Through the ceremony, dear. But don't worry. You didn't snore." With that the woman is slipping out, leaving behind only her footprints in the sand. "With the way you talk, you should be richer'n Haskins by now," Smoketrail snorts, not at all taken in by Darkatil's act and her smirk only widening to prove it. "Go say hi. Eat, drink, and be merry. I'm on Demaria for a while, takin' care of some business. If you're not interested 'nough t'stick around, I'm not gonna chase tail. Otherwise..." This time, she too drops her own act to give him a genuine smile, "It'd be nice t'hear what you've been doing with yourself all this time. Share a drink and laugh over good stories." Jaswinder gets to his feet in delighted relief. "Ceremony's over, is there more food around?" Lucius taps Tiana on the shoulder. "You ready?" He asks. Tiana gives a few more sniffles, the Martian taking a moment to dab at her eyes with a handkerchief retrieved from her little purse, both of which match her dress. After that she nods, one more looping her arm through Lucius', "Aye." "You didn't miss much," Fulton tells Cathal, moving aside and away from the rows of chairs. "I -t'ink- so..." Aadzrian climbs to his feet, stiffly stretching and losing a couple more bandaids in the process. He cranes his neck around, then points at the table of refreshments. "T'ere you go! I wonder if t'ere wil be danses..." "Well, if you're not prrepared to chase tail if I leave," Darktail laments, "Where's the fun in sticking arround to begin with?" With that, the Snowcat grants Smoketail a playfully questioning glance, flicks his ears once or twice, and then turns tail - though not without making sure the tip of that very same tail taps against his companion's leg as it swings around, just to add some degree of punctuation to his question. And where now does Darktail wander? Well, not very far, all told... probably because he doesn't really have anywhere to go beyond loitering for a little while. Lucius gets up from the seat, then, instinctively brushing off his bottom to make sure his dress blues look as sharp as they were the day they came out of the quartermaster's office. In Latin, he remarks to the smaller lady on his arm, "Was a very nice ceremony, wouldn't you say?" His feet take him off the beach at a slow pace. Cathal staggers to his feet, heading straight to the refreshment table. Now that the serious stuff is over, someone seems to have the same idea as Ace. Speakers that had been set all around begin playing livelier pieces; contributing toward a more festive air. Swiftfoot threads her way over toward Ace and crew, padding carefully along the sand. "Evening," she offers, along with a grin and a flick of her tail. Newt sneaks on off towards the food area. Aadzrian grins rather victoriously as the music comes on. "SOMEONE," he announces loudly, looking over the entire crowd as a whole, "had better danse wit' me..." Without pushing the point just yet, though, the Timonae starts toward the refreshment table himself. "Any-body want anyt'ing?" he asks over his shoulder towards the others who shared his bench, smilingly. "Swifty! Hallo!" Oh, Smoketrail doesn't let Darktail escape without an answering bat of her own tail after his, though her expression is studiously indifferent. "A female can't be givin' away all her plans," she tosses over her shoulder in parting before she too is headed toward the walk that leads away from the beach...but not without first swinging by the refreshments in passing. Tiana is lead away upon Lucius' arm, the younger Martian leaning in against the elder, "Oh aye, was absolutely beautiful." She speaks Latin as well, a smile angled up to her date, of sorts, "Kinda makes m'wish Rill an' I 'ad had a real proper ceremony like this." Jaswinder hmms at the sound of music. "No...I think it's time to make an exit," he murmurs, and slips off toward the paths to the city. "Don't beat yourself up over it." Lucius slips into standard, heading into the city. After a few slow paces away from Smoketrail, Darktail draws to a halt, looks back over his shoulder, and offers a knowing smile at the departing female who mirrored his own gestures. "Just like old times," he muses, mostly to himself, and then proceeds with the original idea of loitering on the fringes of the assembled crowd for a little while (until he's able to come up with a better plan, perhaps!) Cathal turns around at the mention of dear, darling Swiftfoot. He waves a big hand jovially, his affectionate greeting entirely garbled by a mouthful of free food. "Mrrrblhurghle, smurfle!" After a little while, Tia returns though dressed much more causually. Not necessarily more beach apropriate, no, but at least she's not got such a long skirt to try and trip her up. Her pace is much more moderate, the chunky heels of this pair of boots much more manageable on the sand. She makes her way back to the crowd of attendees, pausing at the edge to look around for someone she knows. Up on his footpaws, now, and stretching. Raz hikes up one arm to scratch at his side, moving along with his crewmates. His strides are shorter, quicker; that rapid patta-pat-pat is almost mandatory to keep up with their long, languid strides. "Are looking much like have been runned over by hoverbus," he quips, at conversational volume. A joke, yes, but the concern is there all the same. "Nyet answer comm-thingies. Whyfor?" "We were on Tomin Kora," Ace explains, "Was some bad men who blocked people from coming and going and blacked out communications. Have missed you while we were gone. What have you been up to?" She pauses to give a hug to Swifty, "Is good to see you as well, tovarisch." Swiftfoot noses Ace's hair affectionately as she clasps her in a matching hug, and grins. "Haven't seen you all in awhile," she offers, then her head tilts. "You werre stuck in that mess on Tomin Korra? I take it you couldn't call forr help..." She frowns, shaking her head, her ears twitching uneasily. "It's good to see that you'rre all alright." Silvereye breaks off from his Bondmate momentarily to see to their guests. He grabs a flute of champagne and goes to mingle. He can't walk far without shaking hands and patting shoulders. "Hey, I'm rrespectable these days," Swifty teases Cathal, favoring him with a toothy grin. "Got six kits ta look afterr and such, hrr?" She snorts then. "And last time I trried to do something like that, we ended up in the middle of the Sand Motherr afterr a prrolonged perriod of unplanned frree-fall." A wink of one golden eye is given, then her ears perk toward Tiana, the Demarian simply holding her arms out for a hug. Raz flattens one ear, pulling the skin along his Akripan crown comically taut. "Am sorry. Short furred Raz, he is much happy Faux peoples is not dead," the teenaged cub remarks, stepping aside to tactfully place himself upwind of Cathal. Tactfully, save for the wary sidelong glance. His muzzle crinkles with vague distaste, but it's gone soon enough; a moment later, a smile is shared with Swiftfoot. "Me, Raz, I am hearing you are having the cubs. Za vashe zdarov'ye," he offers congenially, dipping his snout with the sort of smile that steals hearts and stops traffic. Straightening, he points a finger back the way he came. "Izvinitye. Prashu proscheniya." Having acquired a small collection of food Newt just steps off to one side and observers, occasionally munching down on something tasty. Aadzrian sets down his empty glass lightly, finding a smile for Silvereye when he comes near and standing up straighter. "Lin smile on your marry-age," he bids quietly, that earlier excitement seeming to have slipped away- the Timonae is now as subdued as his washed-out pallor. Cathal tries to look as utterly disgusted as possible, "Respectable -an'- children. Shee-ite, woman, that's jus' tragic." Ace normally doesn't eat too much, let alone at big events, but like her crewmates, she seems a bit hungry this evening. "And you," she adds to Aadz's words, "Have cubs to deal with and we managed alright. Glad you were not in the middle of it." Tiana barrels gently into Swiftfoot, her one good arm curling tightly around the Demarian. For now the rest of the world is ignored, while the Martian nuzzles and cuddles the giant felinoid. Silvereye has lost none of his excitement. He hugs Aadzrian in response to his kind words. "Thank you!" He grins, stepping back. "I need to go say hello to Ace and the others before I get buried in Senators and Skyclaws." The Battleclaw replies, sipping some of his champagne as he makes his way towards the others. Aadzrian returns the hug, but rather lightly- a surprised chuckle escaping him at the gesture of affection. His smile lingers in Silvereye's wake, but then the Timonae turns and slips down the path back up to the road, uncharacteristically antisocial tonight. Excusing himself from the cluster of crewmates, Raz ambles after Silvereye, a tiny shadow in his wake. "Bloodclaws!" he calls, pitching his voice to carry and flagging an arm - people seldom look down, particularly when they have a good five feet on the source of the cry. "Bloodclaws, Bloodclaws!" The little Fox totters after his hero, rifling a paw through his coat pocket, fishing around for something. He comes up with a smooth round... well, thing. Swiftfoot oofs a bit as Tiana collides with her, roughing the girl's hair up affectionately with one paw. "Haven't seen you in a bumblerr's age, Tia," she murmurs, in a lazy sort of purr. Then, Cathal is eyed briefly. "Least I'm getting laid." A huge -huge- grin follows that comment. A nod to Ace then. "Prrobably good that I wasn't -- Starrs would have rrun the blockade himself to get me back, Demarr bless his soul." Ace nods, "Da, I am certain he would just as I am certain that you would do the same for him." She looks around, spotting Silver heading her way, "Should pay my regards to the happy couple and then get some sleep." Cathal laughs hoarsely at the sexually-satisfied Demarian, "'ey, now I'll have ya know that Tirax has offered many times." He furrows his brow, adding about a hundred wrinkles to his forehead. "...now why does that make me proud?" "Mmm." Tia muffles against that clung-to Demarian's fur, cheek brushing back and forth in a steady motion against that fuzzy chest, "WE got lots an' lots an' lots t'catch up on. Heard ya were preggers, then 'ad a whole big litter!" This too, is muffled against fur, but no less exuberant, "C'n ah come see t'kits sometime soon? How old are they nah? Are they all real little?" Hurrah! Flurry of questions! Silvereye crouches down as he sees Raz coming. He grins at the Castori. "Hey, Raz!" The Battleclaw first greets the Castori, then arches a brow as he presents something. "What's that?" He asks, eyeing the 'thing' itself. "Mmm," Swiftfoot offers to Ace, along with a nod. "I'll be doing the same myself soon enough." She grins at Tiana, petting down her hair with one paw. "I did, and I did. They'rre still little, yeah." A flick of her ears is given. "And you can visit them wheneverr you like, kid." An eyeridge is quirked at Cathal, though no comment is made. "Tall furred Bloodclaws did the marrying Ripplefur," teases the little bear with no end of wry mischief, his grin broadening into a vibrant show of pearly whites. Raz presents the gift to the Demarian, but not before buffing it with the sleeve of his longcoat to bring out that silvery shine. It glitters in the fading sunlight, catching and refracting the rays of twin suns, unornamented and plain save for a small button on the side. "Is from Deserata," he explains. "Press button." (re) Silvereye blinks largely at the Castori as he gingerly reaches out to take the bauble. "Why thank you, Raz..." His tone betrays the sincerity of his feeling. "I'm really happy to see you today...Glad that you could make it." The Battleclaw presses the button as he is bid. Ace comes up behind the cub, putting her hands lightly on his shoulders as she watches Silvereye receive his gift. With his plan of "loitering" evidently foiled by the fact that he feels about as much of an outsider as he actually is, Darktail apparently resolves to adopt a 'Plan B' of sorts: give in to wanderlust and nostalgia and meander off further down the beach. Thus does the Snowcat enact the plan in question, promptly detaching himself from stalking the fringes of the various social groups that still remain upon the beach to explore the rolling sands that spread out in either direction, leaving the aftermath of the ceremony as quietly as he'd arrived - a ghost of the past. Still, he is a 'ghost' that happens to be on Demaria now, and one that leaves paw-prints in the sand as he vanishes from the scene. Maybe this is less of a social retreat than advancement in a different direction? And maybe, just maybe, his presence was noted by the Demarian whom he came out of solitude to see bonded today. "Eeeee!" Tia squeals into Swiftfoot's fur, "Ah bet they're t'cutest lil' things ever!" The Martian giggles, pulling back enough to look up to the Demarian, though her arm remains curled around the felinoid's back, "Hmmm, guess what!" Raz's gift is music. The little silver thing is in fact a music box which eases open when Silver's claw touches the button, revealing a small Demarian girl sitting on a star and swinging her feet and tail while her ears twitch. It's as if she's enjoying a whimsical dance among the twinkling fireflies of the heavens, small beads gleaming around her hand-crafted figure while the music plays. Soft and sweet and melodic, like a lullaby. Raz positively beams, utterly pleased with himself. Silvereye laughs when he sees the dancing Demarian girl, his tone utterly devoid of any mocking tones. "Oh, Raz..." He begins, looking past the display towards the Castori. "This is something special. Thank you very much." He moves to close the box and rises, smiling at Ace. Swiftfoot grins at Tiana. "Naw, two of them arre ugly. They look like Starrs." She chuffs softly at this, then tilts her head at Tiana. "What's that?" "Rill an' ah got married in April!" Tia giggles, pulling in for another snuggly-wuggly hug. "Is Bonding gift from Raz," Ace smiles, giving Raz's shoulders a motherly squeeze. "Was very thoughtful, Raz. Spaciba." She looks up to Silver then, offering the big Demarian a hug, "Congratulations, Silver. Has been long overdue." Raz just smiles, nosing Ace's hand affectionately. "Good dreams, da, for you and Ripplefur," he offers with a grin, and then he's off to rummage through the free food offerings. Namely: the dessert table. Silvereye slips Raz's gift into one of his pockets, making sure to keep it close. He returns the hug from Ace. "I know." He replies. "But I can't help but feel that we did it right. Just get it done." The Battleclaw separates. "I'm very glad that you could come, Ace. I know you guys just went through some real rough stuff, I hope this can help you unwind. Still something good going on the galaxy, afterall." "Da, is always good to have something worth fighting for," Ace nods, "I hope you will forgive me for leaving so early, though. We only managed to get out this morning and it was a very long night." "Hrrr," Swiftfoot says, ears laying back a bit, though they flick forward again quickly enough. "I'm glad he makes you happy, Tia, even if I don't get along with him perrsonally. If you do, that's all that matterrs." She grins, and doesn't seem averse to another hug, returning it with one of her own. Silvereye nods to Ace. "I'm going to have to disappear into my own crowd here pretty soon anyway. A lot of people showed up." The Battleclaw replies, looking around the crowd. "A looooot of people. I'm going to be off for the next few days so I will be sure to catch up with you." "Thank ya, Swifters." Tia murmurs to the Demarian, the sentiment obviously meaning a lot to her. After all, that Swifty's like a fuzzy surrogate mother! "Ah gotta go check on 'im soon, an' drag 'im t'the hospital." "I would expect not to be seeing you," Ace says with a chuckle, "Is honeymoon. Go spend it with your new bonded. Da svidaniya, Silver, and my best to the both of you." Swiftfoot nods, and hugs Tiana again briefly before releasing her. A greeting tail-flick is given as Silvereye approaches, along with a grin and a faintly embarassed flick of her ears. "Sorry I was late, chief," she offers. "Congrratulations, by the way. I neverr thought I'd see the day you actually made an honest female out of herr, meh?" A quiet chuff is offered at the remark. Tiana doesn't hold back nope, the Martian bouncing forward to ambush Silvereye with a hug as soon as she's released, and it's just as snuggly as the ones Swiftfoot was getting, "Congratulations!" She cries cheerfully, beaming up to the male Demarian, "M'really, really 'appy for ya. Ah remember t'once when ya tol' me 'bout 'er, an' ah coul' tell then 'ow much ya loved 'er. Was a real beautiful ceremony." Silvereye blinks as he's ambushed by Tiana. He chuckles, placing his free arm around her. "Thank you." He replies. "I'm saying this a lot but it's very good to see both of you. I'm glad that you could be here to share it with me. It's why we had a ceremony in the first place." He looks up to Swiftfoot, shaking his head. "Long overdue." Swiftfoot nods. "I know it's a terrible brreach of etiquette, but... well, yourr prresent isn't rready yet," she admits, a bit forlornly, her ears drooping. "I'm waiting on... well, a bit of worrk." She gives another of those sheepish sort of grins. "I'll get it to you as soon as I get it back, though. Prromise." She nods then, a merry flick of her ears given. "I wouldn't have missed it. Starrs should have been arround herre somewherre... hrr." "M'sorry there ain't a gift from me an' Rill." Tia muffles against Silver's fur, giving a nuzzle, "Ah didn't even know ya was gettin' married until we left TK this afternoon." Yay Demmy snuggles. Yayayayay. Silvereye chuckles at Tiana. "I heard about that." He replies. "I wasn't really expecting gifts from anyone. The event was too big. I'm just glad that people could make it given what's been going on over there." He shrugs at Swiftfoot. "That's alright. We appreciate the sentiment and look forward to whatever you're working on." "Hopefully, you'll like it," Swiftfoot offers, along with a wink and a faintly mischievous grin. She eyes Tiana then. "So... what the hell happened on TK? I've neverr hearrd of anyone blockading the place like that... not in rrecent memorry, anyway." "Oh gosh... it's 'orribly complicated, an' I ain't sure ah understand i' all." Tia replies, finally letting Silver free with one last nuzzle, "Uhm...there was this 'ole history wit' Starlight, t'ones doin' t'blockade, an' Kaxina an' Mistah Renous an' then in t'end it turned out t'be a Nall! I'm... still real confused on it all." Silvereye shrugs at Swiftfoot, draining his flute of champagne as she talks with Tiana. "All I know is that that Timonae asked me for help and I gave it." Swiftfoot's snout wrinkles, lips drawing back from teeth just a bit. "Figurres it'd be a Nall," she grumbles, shaking her head. "I'm just glad to see everryone is alrright," she offers then. "Well... mostly." Tia replies, her tone turning quite a lot more serious and a bit worrysome, "Rill was poisoned wit' Fire-eye, an'... I dunno if ah shoulda let 'im sleep still, but... e's blind nah, an' ah really gotta get 'im t'the 'ospital." She frowns a bit, "He's real hard t'move when 'e don't wanna, though." Who should come meandering out of the crowd, drunk out of her gourd, and hanging off of one of Silvereye's most promising Bloodclaws? Why, it's Mika Tachyon, and given the skirt and the level of her intoxication, she has been here a while. "'ey look! Look, look, it's Silv," she hoots. "Aw, 'e's married now. So... so we 'afta call Rips /Missus Painted'eart./ Haw haw haw." Obvious facts, they are hysterical. Bloodclaw Dustkicker leans into her, or more accurately, onto her. "Or does it make the Battleclaw 'Mister Windchaser?'" Mika barks out a hyena laugh, punctuating it with a snort of champagne. Her gloved hand claps over her mouth. "It's /both./ It's... it's /both./" Silvereye frowns at Tiana as she tells more of the story. "I hope it's not a permanent condition." He replies to her before his ears prick. He glances back towards the merriment, where he finally spots Mika. "Ah." "Blind?" Swiftfoot asks, blinking at Tiana. "I'd say he should go to the hospital, yes. Hells, I'll help you move him myself. I'll brring Starrs." Her snout wrinkles just a bit at that. "Wonderr if it's perrma..." She trails off there, simply -staring- at Mika. "...huh. Anyone else got deja vu?" A quiet chuff is offered with the oh-so-rhetorical question. There's a pause from the Martian to look back to Mika, but, drunken, boisterous people cannot deter the Martian from her worry for long, nor the offer of help, "Oh, help'd be wonderful. I can't move 'im on t'best ah days, let alone right now. C'n, we maybe do it t'night? I'll wake 'im up first, an' y'all c'n 'elp move 'im while 'es groggy?" Ripplefur is able to return to her search for her newly-bonded only now; looking bemused at the number of acquaintances she had made in the meantime and a little worn around the edges by the constant whirl of congratulations and smalltalk. "Swifty! Swiiiiiiiiifty. Wot's yer face, ladycat? Look't Silv. 'e's married." Mika's does not dip daintily from her champagne glass, though echoes of an Hesperian raised Sivadian are made evident in the extending of her pinky finger every time she has a swig. "Silv, who... who took th' pictures, mate? In yer... in yer livin' room. Ye shoulda taken th' pictures fer yer weddin', too." Yes, that is exactly what he should have done; been both groom and photographer. Dustkicker frees himself from Mika's drunken affections, which he seems to be weathering like a champ, to make a grab for the Battleclaw's hand and shake it far too eagerly. A fanboy before his idol - with a scarily high blood alcohol level. "Battleclaw! Battleclaw, congratulations. She's beautiful! I hope you're happy together," he blurts, making eye contact in his own mind only. Silvereye laughs good naturedly as Mika and the Bloodclaw drunkenly accost him. "Thank you, both of you." He replies. He makes a show of looking between Dustkicker and Mika. "Looks like you might have a catch yourself there, Bloodclaw. Don't let opportunities pass you by, eh?" He grins, looking up towards Ripplefur as she approaches. He wordlessly offers her his arm. Swiftfoot blinks at Mika. "I am too, you know," she offers, along with a faint chuff. "Is it so harrd to believe Silverreye would finally settle down too?" She gives an amused flick of her ears and a grin as Dustkicker fawns over the Battleclaw. A nod is given to Tiana. "We could do that. He should be at the hospital as soon as he can -- the blindness might not be perrmanent, but the longerr it stays..." She shrugs vaguely. Tiana smiles faintly up to Swiftfoot, and upon Mika's approach, edges back to cling shyly to the aformentioned Demarian's side. Oh yes, this drunken character here makes our Tia feel shy, she does. Swifty's paw is taken hold of, and given a little tug, the Martian having something to share quietly, but certainly not tall enough to just lean up and whisper in the felinoid's ear. As soon as she spots Silvereye, Ripplefur picks up the skirt's edge so that she may lengthen her strides. And beneath all that finery? She wears a worn set of sandles, the bindings looking comfortably broken in. Slipping an arm through the one proferred by her bondmate, she nods politely to Mika; too jubilant this evening to be too off-put by the odd human. "Miss Mika Tachyon," she greets politely. "Yeah, but I didn't ever wanna /shag/ you," Mika retorts to her onetime pilot, just in time for the beautiful bride's arrival on the scene. If Ripplefur is too happy to be irritated with Mika's continued existence, Mika is conveniently too wasted to hate her guts. It all works out. "Ripplefur!" she all but sings. "I got ye... I got ye guys a /gift./" Dustkicker smiles widlely at the former Runner. "Do you have a sister?" "Bloodclaw." Silvereye says cheerily. "I think the Skyclaw wants to go speak with you. You'd better go." He orders with a grin on his face as he gently pulls Ripplefur closer to him. He arches a brow at Mika, not sure whether he should be amused or alarmed. "Oh?" Ripplefur frowns, but it is more one of confusion as she ponders Mika's euphemism and then repeats doubtfully, "Shag...?" before her ears wilt a bit in trepidation. "A gift? It is...not absolutely necessary," she ad libs on the spot, never mind tradition. Swiftfoot just blinks blankly at Mika. "You... you didn't?" she deadpans, ears drooping. She doesn't seem to mind Tiana clinging to her, in any case, actually putting a furry arm around the Martian girl. "Sil-/ver,/" Mika hisses once Dustkicker has clipped a salute and departed, leaning in and stabbing a finger more or less at him and more or less at his wife, "yer /cockblockin'./ Ye don't see me tryin' ta... tryin' ta... y'know. Cockblock ye. On yer weddin' day." Brakes are applied to many times on that particular train of thought that even the rogue has confused herself, blinking dumbly while the hamster visibly races on the wheel between her ears. She sways. Penny on the rails, maybe, but the conductor steers her back on track: "'ere," she offers, holding out that bottle of brandy. Brown Label. Probably Kit's. "I got ye this. It's /Sivadian./" Tiana tugs again on Swiftfoot's handpaw, a bit more insistently. Silvereye breathes an inner sigh of relief. It's just booze. "Thank you, Mika." The Battleclaw replies with a smile as he takes the bottle. He makes a show of examining the label, though he's not at all clear on what he's looking at. "And as for your prospects...He's determined. If he wants ya he'll find ya." Ripplefur begins to look more and more nonplussed through Mika's hit-and-miss diatribe, uncertain through both accent and idioms. Finally sighing in resignation, she gives up on trying to understand the offworlder and simply leans over to peer curiously at the 'gift'. "Thank you," she echoes, before her attention finally ranges further to take notice of Swiftfoot and Tiana. "Hello," she greets with a genuine smile. "I am glad that you could come." Swiftfoot gives a greeting flick of her tail to Ripplefur. "Congrratulations," she offers, along with a pleased grin. She peers at the brandy bottle briefly, then chuffs quietly to herself. Tiana's tug on her paw is met by a blink and an ear-flick, before the orange-furred Demarian leans down close so the Martian can whisper to her. Mika whirls, tails of her skirt, sash, and scarf fluttering when she does. "/I/ am d'termined," she declares, and she and her champagne glass go off in stumbling search. Silvereye laughs as Mika runs off. He glances briefly towards Tiana, "If you really need to move him, call the Medical Center. They'll send people over to do it." He then turns back to Ripplefur, smiling winningly down towards her. "I think that we should dance." He informs his bondmate, gesturing towards an open patch of sand set aside for such purposes. Newt watches Mika bolt off and then returns to the main group. Tiana takes the opportunity to nuzzle Swiftfoot's cheek while she speaks softly, the words meant mainly for the orange-furred one, but those darned Demarians have such sensitive ears and all, "It ain't t'blindness that's worryin', Swifters. 'Ell /die/ if we don' get him treated, an' ah feel bad f'lettin' 'im sleep, but he ain't been able t'get such a solid rest since that stuff on TK started... I jus'.. I wanted t'let 'im 'ave some rest." Ripplefur bows her head in farewell to the others at her bondmate's invitation, her smile only widening before she admits with a laugh, "You will have to teach me, I do not know how you would dance to this music." "Hrrr," Swiftfoot says, nodding a bit. "Hospital's morre imporrtant though, kit," she offers. "He can always sleep therre." A nod is given to Silvereye, agreement with the comment about the medical center, before she turns back to the Martian. "I'll tell you what. I need to get home and check on the kits, but I'll come find you afterr that, alrright?" Silvereye snorts lightly to Ripplefur as they return to the party. "We're the main attraction." He retorts to her. "It doesn't matter what we do, everyone will look at us and think it's great and then they'll want to do it too. But for now...let's pretend no one's here."
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