The Targets: Elizabeth Ann Walker and Anthony Michael Rizzuto
The Setup: The Court of the Moon decided that things were getting sleepy and sleepy was bad. The moon was up, the time was right and Lizzy and Tony were getting hitched at the Garden Hills Country Club & Golf Course. It's be a shame if they didn't show and pay their respects now wouldn't it? Terribly rude.
The Score: Open bar, open dance floor, and the delight of seeing how long they could go without being thrown out or arrested.
The Payment: One gift wrapped second-hand lawn gnome boosted from the Franklin's front lawn. Hey, they brought a gift, okay?
The previous evening Rorsch and Zilla scored a house to crash in while the owners were away in Florida on vacation for the rest of the week. Bonus! They had to tell Tom and naturally this turned into a quest upon picking up on the wire that there was a venue with cake and an open bar. This had to happen. It was one of those secrets that was passed through tagged graffiti and word of mouth on the street to the right ears which invited party crasher crashers. It was honestly an endorsed behavior. Who were the Children of the Moon if not enablers out to poke holes in the diaphragm of Society's oh so precious sensibilities. Court of the Sun might have a shit-fit over the impropriety. Good.
"I. Love. Weddings."
There are those folks who, in entertaining contradiction, only look the more rowdy when they suit up into formal wear. Somewhere, somehow, Tom has acquired a full-blown monkey suit, a black-tie tuxedo which he wears with a black shirt rather than a white one, buttoned up properly and everything. This technically should make him wedding-ready. But he's also wearing shitkicker boots, which not-so-subtly spoils the effects, and the sunglasses he often chooses to hide his moony eyes. And he's got a guitar, which may or may not be his, and an amp. Maybe he's going to literally join the band, if there is a band. Or scare off the DJ.
"Love them," he says, strutting a little bit. "The romance. The white-clothes Billy-Idol symbolism of it all. The food to steal. The drunk girls in matching dresses..." They're called bridesmaids, doofus. "So, I need you to know, this is my favorite idea of all time, and there will be toasting." He doesn't need to know the happy couple to grab the mic and trouble the happy event. Tom looks positively smug at the prospect of the coming chaos.
They brought a gift, and it's hard to pick out that which the Moon Court brought, in the pile of pretty packages. But it's there, that stolen lawn gnome, wrapped in metallic silver paper with a pretty black bow, wrapped like there was a professional involved. It was just Zillah, though. She's looking mighty fine, in a dress that she's stolen from the closet that she and Rorschach are crashing in. Deep purple looks good against both the skintone that the human world sees, and the damascus-steel like patterning of shadows-on-shadows that the Lost do as well. "Man, and we didn't even have to dare him to do a toast," she says of Tom, as she grins towards the bug. Trouble dancing in her eyes. "I just want caaake."
It couldn't be mere coincidence that the Moon Court had chosen a Lizzy as their target tonight. Cardinal /insisted/ it was symbolic, meaningful, a serendipitous sign. And surely it meant that she had to be there. With Ian. Definitely with Ian. See, you end one Lizzy's life, you gotta see another start hers. It balances everything out, and the Moon, good ol' XVIII, was all about balance. And a whole bunch of other things, but who cares about that right now.
Cardinal, dressed in a lovely dress of black layered atop pretty pale pink, has brought her own gift and the handsomest of dates, and if anyone asks, she's with the bride. She knows all about Lizzies. Lizzy. This Lizzy. What's her surname again? Good thing the redhead doesn't talk. Tucked onto the table next to the badly wrapped gnome is a box with an origami-a-day calendar. For last year. Only missing the first few days of folded instructions before whoever had it last gave up on the project. Clinging to Ian's arm, her big brown eyes track Tom, and she swoons a little at the prospect of the fine, fine toast about to fill the room... of very perplexed semi-intoxicated strangers.
Rorschach seemed more than amused at Tom declaring that there will be toasting. The Bug grinned, and looked chagrined all in the same breath. He was in a borrowed suit that has luster, and from his mantle and being looked just aged and desaturated as soon as he put it on. The coat was nice, but he was swimming in it a bit. He didn't let that slow his role. He dug out a wallet (likely not his) and pulled out a ten-spot and gave it to Zillah with a sigh. Apparently there was money riding on how long it'd take to convince Tom to toast those he didn't know. He flicked his fingers to Tom with a look of amusement <<Girls in matching dresses? You know those aren't backups if you lose track of them, right?>> This amused him. He turned to Ian with a wry grin. This was good. It wasn't often the Bug felt lit up and energized quite like this. Not often enough anyways.
The hippie has even dressed up to the nines for the occasion. Ian's wearing a pale grey suit with a white shirt and a pink, yes pink, tie that matches Cardinal's dress, because apparently Ian has decided that this is the prom. Tendrils coil out at his wrists and over the collar a little bit, occasionally creeping out over his shoulders before vanishing again. Fortunately, the bride and groom won't see his overgrowth. He walks along with the redbird on his arm, looking snazzy and in a fine mood, whistling a little bit. Looking over at Rorschach he gives the bug a thumbs-up. Good to go.
"Who needs a dare? But if you dare me, challenge ACCEPTED," Tom tells Zillah, barely registering that he has caused the poor bug to lose money. "I keep track of names," he tells Rorschach. "I'm not completely uncouth. If I need to, I write 'em on the back of my knuckles with the pen from the thing. The signy thing. Oh, it's time to do the sign-in thing! They usually have presents!" And before Tom hits the toastmaking, it's Tom versus the bride and groom's immaculate guestbook and carefully chosen, thoughtfully arranged special wedding favors. He slouches up just behind an elderly woman in powder blue and an immense hat, taking her sweet time. He catches her eye. "You, me, dance later, Nana?" He sticks out his tongue and draws it back just quickly enough to feign innocence as he sets about his campaign of matrimonial explosion.
Cardinal never got to go to her prom. Stupid fairies all messing up her adolescence. This'll do as a fine make-up prom. She's surely scored the handsomest date. She's probably wholly focused on her date. Nevermind how she's checking out the jiggling-tit-check of the make-shift pocket Zillah's made of the bodice of her dress. Or the way she nods to the shadow in approval of her craftiness. Tipping up to her toes, she leans in against Ian to, it seems, nuzzle at his cheek and make all mushy, before settling back on flat feet and tracking the rest of the chaos.
The venue was a very sober, upscale affair. That was not to say that people weren't having a good time but they all seemed well behaved. Awww It was like the Sun was glaring on these poor bastards 24/7. The foyer in the double doors opened to a two tiered fountain with a distinct Tuscan feel to it (Tuscany, Italy, not Tuscan Raiders), around a black granite floor that gleamed. There was a baby grand piano in the foyer covered in a flower arrangement and the table withthe guest book and seating arrangements and chart and, my wasn't someone OCD?
The bride looked like she stepped off a Hallmark card, and the groom seems to have just landed a job doing some...finance thing for a company. There was a large portrait of the happy couple and a collage on how they met, as well as chatter just outside the front door to accommodate the smokers. The general impression was old money and people who were not old money trying to pretend they fit in by being the perception of old money trying to impress upon everyone their importance in a most subdued manner. The older woman in the pillbox hat looked startled like a hen but unable to place precisely what happened without looking indignant. Maybe she was hearing things. Oh this was going to be fun.
Ian returns the little finger-wiggle greeting from Zillah with one of his own and a wink. He'd never been to a prom either. They don't have those on the commune. So he's enjoying this throwback for all its worth. He turns toward Cardinal when she nuzzles against his cheek and steals a kiss from her lips, because they're right there, and he gets the first one of the evening. The sober, upscale affair doesn't seem to daunt him, however. He actually looks like he fits in, in that, odd-cousin sort of way. He laughs just a little bit at something, though what is not clear, before he murmurs something in Cardinal's ear. Then he's following over to sign in at the guestbook.
Martin lumbers in, late as is his usual. Well, if he shows up at all. He is not dressed up for the wedding. Not even a little bit. He has on his usual jeans, flannel shirt, barn coat, and work boots kind of look. His hair may or may not have been combed. Hard to tell. But what is immediately obvious is the smell of bourbon and tobacco that follows the man. "Sorry, honey. I know I'm late, but I just couldn't do a thing with my hair." One might think he's trying to be witty, but it's delivered in a droll, deadpan voice that is beyond humorless. "I got the text and the bottle." He tries to muffle a belch. He MOSTLY succeeds even. "That is good stuff. I have to admit. But I'm not sure if stealing some from Prudence counts. But still, you did say open bar, right?" He's surprisingly soft spoken. And while he looks like a redneck, he's actually got a faint English accent.
Rorschach paused, watched the bounce. he blinked and without hesitation dug out a five and signed shaking his head <<Trust me I think I owe you that>> She did get a wink and with an impish grin. Insects, man. incorrigible. That said he glanced around and eyed the guest book and cracked a grin. He gravitated to that. He didn't have an address so whatever was he writing who knows. At Tom's idea of signing his hand, or just writing people's names on them Rorsch dug out one of three writing implements and passed it off. He kept the sharpie for himself though. Tom got the pen. He started a doodle on the picture frame collage while Ian was signing the book first. No rush
Oh there were all sorts of delighted folks weren't there. It started. No one was an island here. For better or worse it was the ladies that were descended upon by a woman who looked very put together and in her mid to late 50's. She glanced Cardinal and Zillah up and down either judging them or trying to place where she might know them. There were over 300 people here. Could she know everyone? She asked with a smile "Bride or Groom?" Being helpful she noted to the two tables. "Friends of the groom are on that table. The bride over there."
Tom no sooner sets down his J. Hancock on an entire page of the guest book than his plus-one arrives, and he whirls, passing the pen on to Ian. "Here you go, big guy. BABY! You are just in time," he exclaims. Arms wide, he heads straight to plant a kiss right on the town drunk who looks freshly arrived from the bait shop, having promised him the open bar. And tongue? Maybe tongue. What a welcome for Martin from the cat. What a welcome to this wedding for the newlyweds: queerish alcohol-fueled makeouts from 'go'. "Are we bride or groom tonight?" he asks Martin. "And do you know the others? I'll play introductions."
Zillah, completely without shame, takes the five from Rorsch, winking. <<What do I get if I take the whole thing off?>> is asked with a teasing gleam in her eye, before she tucks that bill in against her tit as well. Cardinal's watching isn't missed, the redbird getting a waggle of brows. <<You two look good,>> she signs to the couple, before Tom and Martin get a brow lift and a quiet cackle of enjoyment. Hot. But then, then there's a woman looking them up and down, and she side-eyes to Cardnial. Shit. What side did they claim? "Bride," she decides. "She looks lovely, doesn't she? Just the perfect picture, our Lizzie." All without batting an eyelash.
Cardinal couldn't be happier! Between the kiss and whatever Ian whispered, the redhead looks like she might just explode with giddiness. Be warned, people: this is what happens when you can't let the sounds out. They just bottle up until you pop or find some other outlet for them. She holds up her empty hand to sign clearly the numbers <<three>> then <<two>> to her date to confirm whatever plan they've got in play. With a waggle of her brows, she signs to Zillah, <<You too, hot stuff!>> Her wide-eyed attention turns to Tom when he goes and plans a big old smacker right on Martin, shoulders shaking and smile wide. She might be laughing. She might be vibrating with pent up noise. She waggles a wave to the delightful couple, but follows Ian and Buggy on over to the guest book. Peeling away from her date, she leans in over the corner of the table to jot her own happy message sideways. It reads: "To Lizzy and her Whoever! May your days be filled with ice cream, adventures, snuggles and way too many babies. I hope they grow up to be good little Rebels. And I hope the new Star Wars movies keep being badass. SO BADASS! RIGHT!?" It's signed with a quick silhouette of a bird instead of a name.
Ian watches Cardinal nearly explode with glee and confirms with a nod first to the three, holding up three fingers as well, then the two, holding up two, confirming silently whatever mischief the pair have going on betwixt them. He may be a Spring, but he's game to play with the children of the Moon any day. He takes the pen from Tom with a nod and a grin, signing a name on the roster, though if anyone to examine it, it's a very stylized "Thomas Thumb Esquire". When he turns to offer the pen over to Rorschach, he catches the smooch on Martin and he grins, broadly, giving a thumbs up. Quiet crashing party is quiet. He laughs a little as he reads what Cardinal writes, giving her a little shoulder bump of approval.
Rorschach finished the doodle. It was in fine tip sharpie of two old people holding hands under a tree, a tad Don Quixote in nature. It was captioned "Never ask a question you aren't prepared to know the answer to. To a long life of secrets and happiness" He didn't sign it. He did sign the guest book letting the Abernathys send their regards. Weren't they in...Florida? Ah well no one will read the book for another couple months anyways. That'll be an interesting confrontation when the couple go who are these people and what gift did they send?! Send them a thank you card in case! Chaos: the home edition. It made the bug smile bringing people together in weird ways.
He turned and arched an eyebrow at Tom and had only the response of <<Don't think Tom loves us anymore. Probably not any less though.>> His fingers stopped signing when he was asked what she'd get if she took it all off. Unashamed he admitted <<I'm not above raiding the coffers, Zee>> His hands went into his coat pocket. Who were they with? What kind of question was that?! This was very confusing. Apparently he didn't really do weddings to know. He glanced to Ian to try to play off his lead for now. He and Redbird were in the same boat. He didn't make a peep.
The kiss from Tom is accepted with not so much romantic interest as quiet resignation. Martin does however lift one leg like he's a housewife in a 1950s tv show. "Oh, Tom. You scamp." This is as humorless sounding as the first. But he can't be without humor at all, right? "We're with the bride? Hrm. Okay." He waits until his time has come at the book. Then he signs it: "To Lizzie, just know that when it all falls apart and he leaves you for someone younger who has fake tits, no one else but you will be surprised. But life does go on if you drink enough now so that you won't remember how happy you used to be, later." That done, he looks around. "I might know people. Depends on how drunk I was when we met. So probably not. I usually only remember people who feed me or donate to my beer and beef jerky fund." A pause there. "I'm Martin. I run the counter at the bait shop."
Tom tucks his arm right through Martin's only after he picks up his instrument again, waiting while the bait-shop boy signs in "Bride's side. We're all on the bride's side - go Lizzy, go Lizzy," he chants, as if to pump a fist in the air. When no one chants along, he tilts head towards the bug and the shadow, with a stage-whisper to his date. "Rorschach and Zee threw up the cat-signal for the open bar. We stay until they throw us out. The usual wedding stuff." Tom's version of weddings is nothing, nothing like many of the guests at this particular shindig. "Drinks first?"
There's a patting of her curves, a little boosting of the girls from Zillah, as she waggles her brows to the bug. Shameless. And, let's face it, broke. She takes the pen when it's her turn to write in the book, and just...stares at it for a moment. What does one write in these things, anyways? 'May you only hate each other half as much as you should, lie only when it is sweet, and have a lot of really good shower sex', she signs, with a flourish, Mrs. Abernathy. There's even a little heart, before she straightens, turns the page so the other guests don't get alarmed, and then offers a waggle of finger to Martin as she hears her name, sees the head-tilt. Wait...they were trying to be subtle. Too late! But then the little shadow is slipping away from the group, only after whispering something to Rorsch.
Cardinal nods her solmnest approval to the very sound and grounded advice that Martin and Zillah have both penned out for Poor Lizzy the Futurely Confused. On the topic of introductions, she throws up a sign she's capable of making one handed which those who know her might recognize as her name sign. Which, roughly translated, is <<Red Bird C.>> It's followed by a bit of finger-waggling and a lot of distraction. Target. Target. Target! Oh, there are so many! The luminescent redhead flashes a bright smile up at Ian then dashes off toward the other guests, looking for someone to sweep into dance and madness.
Rorschach arched an eyebrow and nodded to Zillah as she skulked off leaving a wry grin on his face his curiosity piqued. He didn't sign why
The woman greeting them furrowed her brow clearly trying to be polite and not quite knowing what to make of the brash young man's behavior. It wasn't HER wedding, but it she was professional at biting her tongue judiciously saying, "Lizzie? Ah, yes. You must have ..." She searched for a word for it, "Gone to college with her. And my dears you look lovely. The gift table is over there." She paused and added, "There's a camera."
Finding that too blunt she added tactfully, "So you don't have to worry about your gift not making it to her." The salvage.
The bug flashed her a smile. His strength though was that he was easily overshadowed and entirely forgettable. He fell in behind Martin and Ian watching the people curiously. And likely spotting the bar and seeing what snacks were out. When Martin mentioned to their cadre he ran the bait shop there was a wide and warm grin from the bug <<Snack bar!>> Oh... gross. He didn't make a noise but his finger indicated something to eat? Maybe he found the appetizers? Hard to say unless you signed. He held out a hand to Martin to greet him no less.
- Inside the hall people were mostly standing, mingling, catching up, and enjoying foods walked around on trays with a toothpick stuck in them. There were two open bards. TWO! on either end of the dance floor. DJ Table was in the middle of the parquet floor by the wall opposite the mass of the tables. The head table was at the far end of the room by tall windows shrouded with long elegant sheers. There were tealights -everywhere- like dancing stars. Apparently the bride really loved blue and silver. One could do worse. The cake was not out yet, but at the close end of the room where they entered there were buffet tables.
Ian can't help but chuckle as Cardinal takes off to mingle among the guests and drag one of them off to dance. He turns toward Martin and says, "Ian," by way of introduction, finally speaking. At least he is one of the ones who can. "Nice to meet you," he says, both to Martin and Tom. "I think it is high time for a drink." He nods in the direction of the bars and begins to make his way there, acquiring himself a drink in one hand and then many small things on toothpicks until it seems like he has a bouquet d'hors'd'oevres.
Martin shakes the bug's hand and then points to his mouth, too. Or well, where he presumably has a mouth anyway. As it isn't really visible. Then he points to the bar. He just assumes everyone else wants a drink, too. And then Ian speaks and confirms this for him. "Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to start sobering up." He then adds, "Nice to meet everyone. If I've met you before, I'm sorry. I'm terrible with names." He then looks back to Rorschach. There's obvious thought as he's considering how to communicate. Then he brightens up. He mimes drinking lots of things. Then he gives two thumbs up. Then he starts to lead Tom toward the bar.
Those expecting Tom to be subtle will be sadly disappointed. While capable of being quiet and unobtrusive, it's just not where he ends up most of the time. He's the cat who convinces himself that OF COURSE he can make the jump to that counter top, and ends up falling with a sad squeak onto the floor, only landing on feet by sheer dumb luck. "Sobriety? Shut your mouth, pretty boy." He grins at Ian. "Seen you around, man. I think? Probably. Welcome to the jungle, as the saying goes." First thing he does, he steals someone else's drink, then whirls around to Martin's other side so the victim doesn't realize right away that he's made off with some scotch.
While the gentlemen--oh, so very gentle!--are getting their drinks and making their introductions, Cardinal is winding through the crowd and finding the broodiest of young women, a likely cousin of one half of the couple, situated at a table with a Shirley Temple in front of her, too old to get away with the same nonsense the kids can and too young to actually be able to get anything from the bar. Being twenty at a wedding with an open bar where most of the hot guys are either family or creepy old sucks balls, alright? But here comes her redheaded rescuer, a stranger all in pink and black, with a mischievous smile that says Let's Make Mommy Cry. It's not long before the pair are on the dance floor, slow dancing way too close. There's even a flirtatious little kiss, a press of the redhead's lips to the other girl's cheek. Hear that whisper ripple through the crowd? Oh, someone's gonna be in trouble later...
No stranger to moving through crowds, without drawing overly much attention, Zillah has already consumed three and a half finger foods, two glasses of stolen whiskey, and is angling in on a whiskey sour from the bar. Food consumption keeps the little shadow from teetering when she walks, at least for the moment. With those heels on, though, who knows how long it will last.
"Heya," Ian says to them both and then nods toward Tom, agreeing that they have seen one another around in the past. He takes a nip off of one of his hors'd'oevres from the bouquet, wandering about through the guests. He takes a sip from his drink, listening to conversations and politely introducing himself to those that he meets. It isn't until he finishes his food and drink and acquires a second that he begins to circulate among the guests. He gets more than a few looks. These are locals, and locals know all about that commune with the crazy hippie guy who leads it. Yet, it's hard to recognize him all dressed up in the suit, after all, shiny and polished and hair combed all neat. Was the bride in a cult? Oh dear, the rumors, they continue to circulate. He doesn't help the situation when he starts to tell stories about things that never happened, expanding the bride's family history in ways that no one expected.
"Nana will get in on our action, Steve," Tom assures the unfortunate bartender. "I already got her on my radar. Just the lumberjack here, me, and the bride's granny. And a request from Sir Mix-A-Lot." A polished woman arrives at Tom's other elbow. She's carrying her nametag where he can see, and she simply waves at Bartender Steve as if to summon him through noblesse oblige. New cat toy! "Laura Lee? Is that YOU? Have you lost weight for this shindig? It's got to be, what, forty pounds? Don't tell me it's more?!" Tom is most likely to win the 'gets thrown out first' prize, but it's hard to say that he cares; it seems he's the big and brash distraction who does what he does grandmaster style, providing cover for all the little wandering quieter vehicles for chaos.
Rorschach slapped Martin on the shoulder and pointed to the bar. There was a plate of appetizers and noting Ian he had a point. The bug looked around and tried not to follow natural inclinations to make a beeline for the kitchen. He flinched. Bad bug. Bar first. He turned and ran into , ah fun, the Father of the Bride. He stood idly by, hands in pockets and found a conversation that looked important. He stood up straight and nodded along. Friend from college? Cousin? Who knows. Truth was he didn't stand out and the ugly truth was people, in their heart of hearts, didn't want to know.
He smiled and shook the old man's hand and politely excused himself behind the other man who was engrossed talking College ball and business margins with a touch to the other guy's back and moved doing a blind drop into his own pocket of...something. Did he just boost that guy's wallet? Rorschach passed behind some people to advance towards the bar. The guy in question didn't seem to notice a thing. But then passing behind the other guests the Bug never emerged by the bar at all. Sooooo where was he? The proper question was what bug? This place is clean and how dare you insinuate that they have an infestation on the day of Lizzy Walker's wedding!
In the midst of it all, there's Zillah. Being a complete blank slate when it comes to the past has one benefit - she doesn't run the risk of mucking up her own life's details with the bits that she overhears from other party guests. Oh, yes, that family gathering at the beach house was grand - she saw all the pictures, but she couldn't make it, so sad, some study overseas. And yes, cousin Jenny does look so much better since she left that no-good-freeloader of a husband. It's not long before she's looking around for another drink, the rest of Team Moon Court and Friends, and spies Cardinal on the dancefloor. The universal signal for 'Score!' comes from her fingertips, before she's trying to find the Bug. Hm. Where'd he go? But there's Tom and Martin over there, and she starts to wander back towards the feline.
Cardinal and the brunette she's so happily snagged for her own dance all nice and close-like well into a second song despite the shift in tempo which should have them moving a little faster and maybe peeling apart. But no, these two are in a world of their own, moving at half-time in a sinuous slithering of one too-skinny body against another. After a bit of giggling and conspiratorial whispering between the girls, the pishacha lets her tongue out to drag it along the girl's cheek all nice and slow. Should any of the changelings look, they'll see it for what it is: way too long and black and pointed, better suited to a demon than a cheerful redhead. The humans just see that sloppy affection planted on the cousin-of-someone's cheek. They just see the stranger in pink take off into the crowd, leaving the guest actually on the invite list stunned and giggling. And looking up at the light fixtures as if they were suddenly Really Fucking Interesting. The next person to see Cardinal is almost certainly Zillah as she sneaks up beside her, leaning in affectionately while searching the room for champagne.
With second drink in hand, and curious murmurs and whispers in his wake, Ian cheerfully goes to introduce himself to more guests. He eventually finds himself being pulled out onto the dance floor, and he can hardly turn down the invitation. The woman is likely twice his age, but stylish, fashionable, and not so far into her cups that she can't manage to take a spin around the floor. The dance is old fashioned, not in sync with the music at all, but it doesn't seem to matter to Ian. He laughs, and drinks, and there's a bit of murmured conversation between them. There's a smile for the photographer as well, white-teethed smile and all.
There was about to be a row. One of the cousins, a bigger guy was quick to anger and even quicker to snub his nose at Tom's declaration of 'Nana' "Dude! I don't know what your problem is but I think you should cut back" It's like he stayed up all night watching Anchorman trying to convince the world Dorothy Mantooth was a saint. Like he grew his balls in a tiny boardroom instead of a battlefield. Clearly. They scoffed and he was about to have more words when there was a TING-TING-TING of a knife on glass sounding like a bell. And the most basic of bitches, bless her the maid of honour, was all smiles announcing into the mic that people should take their seats and they were going to have a toast to the Bride and groom before dinner was served.
It was about to get... so typical. The best man gave his toast to the groom and thought he was being edgy talking about the time they went snowboarding and got arrested for riding a statue drunk in a park and were let off with a warning. Wow. Well hey, he tried living a little. Yes yes, they met in college, and they traveled and they're so perfect for one another that one would thing they stole stock speeches from RomCom movies. The maid of honor was the sister of the groom though. Well at least they got along.
"Hey, Cousin It over there." Martin puts his arm around Tom's waist. "Don't you talk to my man like that. What he does with your Nana with her consent is between him, her, me, and the camera on my phone." He's a many of few words.
Tom, well protected by Martin, or so he thinks, talks well over the snowboarding speech and the clinkety clank. "Hey, Broseph. Is this where I say 'your momma'? Get the message across? -- oh, we are -toasting-." He lifts that pilfered glass of scotch -- no, now it's someone ELSE's glass -- and lifts it. "Happy couple, Lizzy and What's His Nuts! Slainte." His fangy grin is cast happily at Zillah and Cardinal's approach, and he says to his confronter, "I'd punch it out in the parking lot, but I see my next dance partner. I promised to tango."
She may of misplaced her favorite bug, but there's a vivid bird next to her now, and Zillah seems quite pleased with this turn of events. She leans in return to the other woman, lightly so, and gives a bright grin. <<Nice dancing,>> is given cheerfully, before too-long fingers are reaching out, snagging two passing glasses of champagne, and offering one to the pretty bird. <<Oh, look, Tom's toasting,>> is signed, the shadow having adopted a certain bug's way for signing the man - the one for cat, but with middlefingers. <<Have you seen Rorschach?>> Pausing, to lift her glass to the toast.
Where there's a toast, there's champagne! Cardinal is dead set on getting herself some of that and claims not one, but two flutes with a delighted bat of her lashes to the waiter who only rolls his eyes in response. Whatever. It's not like there's not more where that came from. He's not paying for it. The bubbly in one of those glasses sloshes and spills all over her right hand as she thrusts it up way too high and enthusiastically with the toast. Only after she's downed, oh, all of what's left does she give her head a shake toward Zillah to assure she's not seen the bug-man anywhere. With her hands full, though, she can offer no articulate response. Instead? She pushes up to her feet to press a kiss to Zillah's cheek. By the time she hits the ground again, the emptied champagne glass is gone, the handbag at her elbow swaying a little bit more heavily. Though she's edging closer toward the chaos around Tom and Martin, her gaze is sweeping over the dance floor. Ah, right there. She smiles when she spies Ian. She gives no thought to the girl she left behind who miiiiiiight be wandering about touching things as if she's never touched things before. Chair! Tablecloth! Fork! Aunt Sally's hair! Wow. Was it always so springy?
Oh, so many family photographs from this wedding are going to have Ian's smiling face in them, with drink in hand, arm around one family member or antoher, flashing that beatiffic smile, looking positively charming in all of them. He makes his way from one group to the other, taking a spin on the dance floor with one guest or another. He's not picky about who or for how long, fast song, slow song, he seems vastly entertained no matter what. Though it's when he pulls one of the hotel staff out on the floor with him, a slender server who should be doing his job rather than dancing with Ian, that he seems to begin to cause affront among the guests, and even moreso when he plants an entirely inappropriate kiss on the man before turning him loose, even going so far as to set the tray back in his hand before he turns to find.. Cardinal. Seeing her, he leaves the server behind and makes his way to her, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her out onto the floor. "One more dance.. and this one is mine," he tells her with that little smile.
Rorschach reappeared at their ...well whatever table of operations they procured to 'blend in at. He had an unopened bottle of scotch from the bar, a bottle of Jameson, a short stack of shot glasses and a tray of appetizers and... did he hit up the kitchen? He set it down for them all and gave Zillah a smooch on the cheek. Loot Bug came back with loots! and a coat pocket that was heavier on one side than the other. Huh. He remarked in sign <<Figured it was getting close to the time someone might try to shoot at Tom. Wanted to get the whole thing for YouTube>> He nodded sagely and didn't necessarily seem the sort to idly sit by.
It was then one of the cousins, a larger guy tried to grab Tom by the shoulders to walk him out. He looked to Ian, then back to Zillah blue-black eyes flashing in a way that read 'if things go bad, grab the booze and meet us round back'. It was one of those things one didn't have to ask about. That was common parlance.
"Are we gonna take this outside?" Tom could not sound happier, in his all-balls and fuzz-brains way. "Martin! Martin, sugarlips. It's time to throw down. I'm gonna need you to defend my honor with your big manly fists!" He blows a kiss at the big cousin. "Or we can settle it out back another way. I'm easy. Way easier than my date. I don't have to tell your girlfriend after, if you'd rather not." He waves at the room with one big paw. "I lose, so somebody grab my axe -- well, THE axe, okay?" Then, one hand raised, then the other, in fists, as he's crabwalked exitward a little. "Jack Johnson, Tom O'Leary, waitin' for ya, right here." He's gonna talk all the way out the door, and the only question is if his escort out will maintain temper or eventually punch him.
Two cheek kisses - the first from the now-wandering Cardinal, and the second fom the reappearing Bug, these are things that make the little shadow flash bright smiles. <<No guns drawn yet,>> a pause. <<Yet. But it looks like there's about to be a throw down>> Her own blue-black eyes follow Tom and Martin, amusement in them. She gives the cat a thumb's up - she'll take his axe if things go down and go wrong, and since he's one of the Moonies, he'll even get it back in one piece. Maybe even tuned. She spins, and gives Rorsch's cheek a kiss, fluttering away a little to whisper into one of the drunk bride's maids ears.
Cardinal's skinny body shakes with delighted--albeit silent--laughter at the kiss Ian plants on the server, at the scandalous uproar that causes in beautiful balance with the more riotous one over by Tom. Oh, it's remarkable, how much life has sprung up at what would have otherwise been a terribly tepid affair. As the kitty makes his inviting exit, the redhead blows a pair of big kisses his way, one with each hand, both of which close into giddy little fists as she cheers him on with a couple of lazy swings at nothing in particular. Get 'em, Tom! Where'd that other glass of champagne go? The way that purse is bulging, it's probably in there, too. Sneaky little thing. By the time Ian makes his way to her side, she's ready, stepping right into that embrace as if she'd expected him to sweep her away. One hand in his, the other on his shoulder, her head held high, the redhead is ready to waltz. Or whatever. She's following Ian's lead rather happily.
The tripping brunette, too young to get drunk, just old enough to be subjected to a pishacha's affections, has left poor Aunt Sally's hair alone after being shooed off and set down at a table. They're sure she's had something to drink and are now feeding her water and carbs and fretting over her every giggle as she babbles about how chocolate isn't supposed to taste blue.
It's a little waltz, a little sway, a little something halfway between old fashioned wedding and Prom as Ian takes Cardinal and her bulging purse around the dancefloor. However, about halfway through their dance, there's hotel staff approaching, and some of them are eyeing Ian, and some of them are eyeing Cardinal's purse. And so he takes her through a little spin, a little dip, a solid smooch on the lips, and then in the midst of the applause, he starts to tug her away from the dance floor, and closer to where Tom and Martin made their exit. He leans in to murmur quietly to her and glance around before lifting a questioning eyebrow.
What quickly escalated was a potent chain reaction from the attention of the room on the back, and the mother of the groom trying not to faint or scream, and the bride looking on in horror to the gossip of scoffing bridesmaids and angry groomsmen, and a sea of gawking observers. Bedlam just broke out at a sleepy little wedding. The bride...was crying and trying to not let her mascara run.
Three men turned to five looking to make sure the cat was thrown out of the proverbial house. The bug looked up to get an idea of where people were and paused at the cheek kiss. For a moment he forgot Tom was in peril and just blinked at Zilla and was for a moment transfixed by the light and shadow bouncing off her as she strode across the room trying to contain the erupting bedlam.
He eyed her curiously, Tom was... starting to have more of a following. There was an upnod to Zillah and he deposited his coat on the back of her chair. Someone went looting. He trusted her not to leave the good shit behind. They could all divvy up loots later. As it was the 'escort' started turning into a scuffle as they got past the fountain. Cardinal was starting to make an exit and Martin amy have already been moving. No one watches the bug though, for better or worse, which in this case was not good for guy #4 who was being rushed by Rorsch throwing the first punch?
No! That first punch came from Bridesmaid #3 who just slapped Groomsman number three and shrieking, "You and Darla can HAVE one another. I'm so through with your shit, Todd!" Who knows what Zillah said to her but a shot in the dark proved it may have been entirely... plausible?! Whatever the trush was it was reality manifest now thanks to the slinking shadow.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Rizutto Wedding.
Cardinal isn't leaving empty-handed. Oh, sure, she's got Ian, and anyone who's been paying close attention to how he's worked the room can attest to what a handful he is, but there is a Mission yet to accomplish. She steals a pair of kisses from Ian, one to his his ear and then a second to his lips, and then she's slipping from his hold and making a break toward one of the tables with the glitteriest centerpiece. Without making any attempt to hide her intentions, she simply scoops the whole vase up with all the lovely white and blue flowers and silvery bobbly bits therein and dashes off toward the exit, trusting entirely in Ian to do his part and follow suit. They're meant to have two, you see. Three champagne flutes and two vases. Souvenirs by which to remember the night they truly sent Lizzy off into her new life. Even if it's a different Lizzy...
Cardinal isn't leaving empty-handed. Oh, sure, she's got Ian, and anyone who's been paying close attention to how he's worked the room can attest to what a handful he is, but there is a Mission yet to accomplish. She steals a pair of kisses from Ian, one to his his ear and then a second to his lips, and then she's slipping from his hold and making a break toward one of the tables with the glitteriest centerpiece. Without making any attempt to hide her intentions, she simply scoops the whole vase up with all the lovely white and blue flowers and silvery bobbly bits therein and dashes off toward the exit, trusting entirely in Ian to do his part and follow suit. They're meant to have two, you see. Three champagne flutes and two vases. Souvenirs by which to remember the night they truly sent Lizzy off into her new life. Even if it's a different Lizzy...
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