Subject: "Yep!"
Author:
Posted on: 2015-12-02 16:25:00 UTC
The Aviator bent so she was at Jeta's eye level and held out a hand, her expression softening. "I'm the Aviator; Kala asked me to be her maid of honor. She's in the tent back there—" She nodded in the general direction. "—and we need you. Gotta go over when you're going to throw those flowers and stuff, you know?"
Sunlight filled the Courtyard, providing a perfect backdrop for the unusual setup placed there. Where there was once just a flat expanse of grass, several rows of chairs sat facing a small gazebo. Behind the back row stood an odd trio of well-dressed PPC agents.
Chakkik tugged at his collar. “I have the feeling that I am overdressed for the occasion.”
“Duzzat even exist, Chak?” The short, horned redhead looked curiously at her former partner. She was clad in a plain green dress, with a low neckline and a skirt that fell just short of her ankles. The simple affair ended with a pair of dark green slippers.
Chakkik, however, was dressed well enough to put James Bond to shame. He wore a spotless tuxedo, his hair was even better-groomed than normal, and a black tie topped it off. However, there were telltale bulges of something thicker and more durable underneath it. “At least I am not dressed in the manner of a Westerosi lord. That would raise eyebrows.”
“And probably a few questions of broken quarantine.” Stephanie Podd was dressed as she normally was, though this was a matter of practicality. No dress existed that could accommodate her eight legs and two tentacles. “I’m so jealous of you two, you have normal legs and arms… you can actually wear fancy clothes! And...”
Chakkik turned to his suddenly silent partner. “Stephanie?”
She reeled him in for a hug, though only with her arms. “I’m sad that Cupid couldn’t come… but I’ve got my friends with me, and that’s what matters!”
Much to Gabby’s surprise, Chakkik raised an arm and patted her shoulder. “Indeed. We are here to celebrate, after all.”
“Jesus, Chak, wot happened to yeh while I was in the Ee-Sass? You weren’t nearly this friendly when I was workin’ with ya..”
“Time, trauma and a great deal of alcohol.”
“... y’know what, I think I won’t ask.” She turned away from the much larger man.
Chakkik allowed himself a smug grin. “One more thing: your absence.”
“Oh, har har.”
————
((Yes, I know I'm nine days early. Honestly, though, do you guys really think that we'd be able to fit this, the wedding, AND the reception into one day? I don't. Thus, the first part of the Vance wedding, the arrival of the guests, starts today.
If you've forgotten, the agents invited (and their plus-ones) are:
The Aviator, DMS (plus the Guardsman, DIA)
Zeb, DMS (plus Maxwell, DIA)
Desdendelle, DF
Dawn McKenna, DMS
Kozar, DIC (plus T'zar, DoGA)
The Reader, DIC
Rayner Blitzkrieg, DMS (plus Lapis Lazuli, DIC)
Evangeline von Lilith, DMS
Falchion, DF (plus Sarah Squall, DIC)
Velociripper, DF
Wobbles the Clown, DF
Chakkik, DMS (plus Stephanie Podd, DMS)
Adéle Bowen, DoSAT
Zeke, DoSAT
Gabby, ESAS
If you're not on this list, don't take it personally. I limited this to agents that have canonically interacted with Valon, Kala, or the invitees.))
“Sorry!” The Aviator pulled several strands of Zeb’s mane out from his bow tie and straightened it carefully. “Better?”
“Yeah, loads.” Zeb gave her a rather toothy grin. “Right, I’m gonna go get Maxwell. See you at the ceremony!”
The Aviator stood and smoothed out her knee-length skirt, plucking Luxray hairs off the fabric. Not that the blue on blue was very noticeable. “And I have to get Emiran, too,” she said, following him out the door. “Mind if I come with?”
“Nah, not at all!”
The agents parted ways once they reached DIA Central, Zeb bounding eagerly off in one direction while the Aviator went the other. After a bit of wandering, she stopped outside the all-too-familiar door and knocked.
A few moments later, the Guardsman opened the door. He was dressed in a black suit and was desperately trying to tie a black bow tie around his neck with no success. “Arin! Great timing. Do you know how to tie this infernal ribbony thing?”
“Oh, now you ask for help?” came Terabyte’s voice from inside the RC. “I could’ve simply looked it up on the Internet and done it for you fifteen minutes ago!”
The Guardsman flapped a hand at his robotic partner. “Shh. We’re past that now. So! Arin. Bow tie. Can or can’t do?”
“Tied one for Zeb not five minutes ago,” the Aviator said, grinning. She waved at Terabyte before motioning for the Guardsman. “C’mere, pops.”
The Guardsman leaned forward to let the Time Lady work. “Humans, eh? With their silly little neck-things and such. You know that this is a choking hazard, right? Why can’t they wear ceremonial collars like real civilized peoples? Gah, I miss my dress robes. They looked nicer than this ‘suit’ thing.”
“If ties are a choking hazard, ceremonial collars are a hazard to everyone who happens to get to close.” The Aviator finished tying the Guardsman’s bow tie and stepped back. “Not to mention, they’re a door hazard, too.”
“Then just build wider doorways,” grumbled the Guardsman, touching his bow tie. “Right. So... where to?”
“The Courtyard,” the Aviator said. “Been helping the happy couple get it decorated for a while now, it looks great.” She hooked her arm through the Guardsman’s. “Shall we?”
The Time Lord smiled. “Onwards to food! And the ceremony. But also the food.”
“Food is good,” the Aviator agreed. “The ceremony…” She grimaced. “Well, if the Notary’s behavior at rehearsals last night is anything to go by, it should hopefully—” She broke off and cast a wary glance at the ceiling. “That was close.”
“Don’t tempt the IO, please. Not now, not today.”
“Yeah, Kala would murder me if anything happened and it was my fault.”
When the Time Lords arrived at the Courtyard, the Aviator gave the Guardsman a one-armed hug. “Right, gotta go see to the bride. I’ll catch you at the reception, alright?”
The Guardsman returned the hug. “Sure thing. I’ll just... be here. Existing. Alone. As a plus one,” he said with a mock look of sadness.
“If you don’t like it you can go home,” the Aviator said, sticking her tongue out. She looked around at the already-assembled guests and pointed. “Look, Zeb and Maxwell are over there, you can sit with them.”
“Right-o. See you in a bit, then,” said the Guardsman, pulling off a quick two-fingered salute and walking towards Zeb and his hyperactive plus one.
The Aviator saluted back and went off to find Kala.
... currently struggling with her voluminous dress. Strangely, the skirt didn't seem to be the problem, despite the fact that she remained in girtablilu shape.
"Grr... I hate being short... Oh, hi there, Ave!" Kala's bad mood dissipated the moment she saw the maid of honor. "Uh... you mind helping me with this thing? I've got short arms, I can't reach the strings in the back."
If the Aviator was concerned about damaging the skirt to get to it, Kala dismissed that concern. "If you need to sit on my back to get to it, it's fine. Arachne silk is durable, you won't tear it."
The Aviator stepped to the side and tried to reach the ties, but Kala's scorpion body was too wide for her to reach. "I thought we agreed you'd wait to get dressed until I got here to help," she said, vaulting up onto Kala's back and quickly finishing the job. She tugged the strings into a neat bow and smiled. "There, done."
She jumped down and quickly straightened her skirt, mumbling Gallifreyan curses at it, before looking around. "Er, tent seems awfully empty. Where's the flower girl? I thought she was supposed to be here already."
"Sorry... my family's kinda new at the whole 'wedding' thing. I bet Jeta's with the rest of my family."
Kala took a moment to admire herself in the mirror. "Wow... never thought I'd look this good in white."
The Aviator clapped Kala on the shoulder. "You look amazing. Just like a bride." She stepped away and headed to the tent's opening. "I'll see if I can go find your sister. You keep looking pretty, alright? Oh, and remember to drink water in the meantime! Last thing we want is you getting dehydrated right before it's time to head out."
"I know hydration's important." She hefted a sports bottle that looked about half-empty.
The Aviator grinned. "Right, I'll be back in a bit." She waved and slipped out of the tent, going in search of Kala's sister.
It wasn't very hard to find her; four girtablilu are hard to miss even under the worst circumstances. The Aviator approached and was about to say hi to Jeta when she noticed Ezra was sitting with his family. She gritted her teeth. The kid had been at rehearsal last night, he should have known he was supposed to be with Valon!
Changing course, she moved to tap the boy on the shoulder. "Hey, Ezra, you need to be with Valon right now. Important job to do, and you're sitting here?" She tsked and made a shooing motion with her hand. "Better hurry up, you don't want to keep him waiting."
"He's being very defiant... I've told him that a few times now."
"Alright, fine..." Ezra was outnumbered now; he reluctantly stood up and walked off toward Valon's tent.
Thomas shook his head. "And to think I've spent eleven years telling Valon to spend time with Ezra, instead of the other way round. It's hard to get them to get along sometimes."
She glanced over at the Jengs and back to the Vances. "Right, sorry, gotta go. Lots to keep up with today." She waved and headed over to the Jengs, stopping in front of the littlest girl. "Hey, Jeta, right?"
She looked up curiously at the Aviator. Her carapace wasn't as shiny as the other members of her family, and looked softer. Unlike her sister, she also had a Roma accent. "Do you know when I throw flowers?"
The Aviator bent so she was at Jeta's eye level and held out a hand, her expression softening. "I'm the Aviator; Kala asked me to be her maid of honor. She's in the tent back there—" She nodded in the general direction. "—and we need you. Gotta go over when you're going to throw those flowers and stuff, you know?"
The eleven-year-old girtablilu cheerfully scuttled off toward Kala's tent. "Thank you, miss Aviator!"
...and set off after Jeta at a much more casual stroll. "See, Kala?" she said, stepping into the tent. "I told you I'd take care of it."
Kala offered a few comments here and there, in the same tongue, before turning to the Aviator. "Yeah... she's excited, if you can't tell. Though Araunya was a bit disappointed... she was hoping I'd have someone more handsome. I told her that not everyone in the world is French." She laughed a bit, before fiddling with her hair. "Hrm... I'm so used to wearing this in a ponytail... it looks weird when I wear it down like this..."
"I think you look pretty, Kala!" Jeta remained cheerful, still holding the basket tightly in her claws.
"She can't have met very many French people, then," she said. "Not that there aren't some handsome blokes, but for the most part they're just like every other human. And Kala, stop playing with your hair, you'll pull the curl out of it."
She muttered irritably to herself. "Hope Valon's having a better time with Falc..."
On the right side, four humans. On the left, four girtablilu.
The Vances sat down calmly. Joan Vance, Valon's mother, was a short, jolly-looking woman with vibrant red hair. Eight-year-old Alice and ten-year-old Ezra sat on either side of her. Thomas, Valon's stepfather, was a stern-looking Asian man who kept glancing at Ezra.
Kala's family, with their unusual body shape, could not take seats, and simply lowered their bodies to the ground. Kala's parents looked startlingly like her, though their hair was a natural dark color. Her older sister, Araunya, wore a low-cut red dress. Her younger sister, Jeta, held a basket of flowers in her soft pincers, and was clad in a puffy pink dress.
Ezra looked mildly irritated. "Dad, why do I have to hold the rings?"
"You're the only young boy around here. Also? This is your brother. Surely you can do this for him." Thomas shook his head, remembering how often he'd said that to Valon.
((Ezra's the ring bearer, Jeta's the flower girl. Just so everybody knows.))
“Are you sure?” Dawn asked. She finished checking her hair in a small, square mirror that had once been used before dance performances and tucked it into a hidden pocket. “Really sure?”
“Definitely sure, Shakhar,” Des replied. He rubbed his faceplate. “To be frank, I could use cat cuddles,” he said in an embarrassed voice. “‘sides of which, I can count on you carrying a D.O.R.K.S. for me, right?” He tilted his head.
“I can probably fit one in my awesome pocket, yeah,” Dawn said. She checked it, and then nodded. “Yeah, there’s space. But if you’re coming as a cat, you’d better be the sort that doesn’t shed much. Okay?”
“Of course,” Des said, waving his fingers. “With my luck I’d probably be allergic to my own shed fur.” He approached the console and tapped a few keys, and soon an Aegean cat, white with grey stripes, stood in his place. Around his neck were a translator collar and, funnily enough, a bowtie.
Dawn knelt next to him with an “awww” and scratched behind his ears. “Lookit you, all fluffy and nice.” She tugged lightly on the bowtie, grinning. “Sweet. I think Zeb’s going with one of these, too. How’s it feel?”
Des mrrowed happily and flicked his tail. “Cats are fun!” he said.
“They are,” Dawn agreed. “I expect Valon and Kala would be happy if you went humanoid at least briefly, though.” She caught the tip of his tail, running it through her fingers. “In the meantime, though, this is adorable.”
Des mrrowed again, then, with surprising agility, lept onto Dawn’s shoulder. He rubbed his head against her cheek.
“Adorable,” Dawn repeated, and petted his head. “Right, getting up now…” She did so, hands poised to catch him just in case.
Des didn’t fall. He bared his fangs, then remembered that he was a cat and switched to flicking his tail to and fro. Khataltelet half-snorted, half-trilled and took off from atop one of the kitchen shelves; he flew circles around Dawn and Des.
“I might run out of shoulders,” Dawn told the fire-lizard. As if to prove the point, Gwilithiel landed on her other shoulder and peered at Des, curling her golden tail possessively around Dawn’s neck. “Alright, are we all ready?”
Des glanced at his fire-lizard. “... No, Khataltelet, you can’t land on her head.”
Dawn looked up hurriedly. “What? Yeah, no, seconding that. My head is off-limits to anything but my hair, and you, dear fire-lizard, are not my hair. Stay in the air or switch off with someone.”
Khataltelet trilled — it sounded like a laugh — and stayed airborne.
“Alright, shall we, Shakhar?” Des asked.
Dawn grinned, and scratched under his chin. “We shall, O fluffy one. To the Courtyard!”
A black-haired, motherly woman in a pale blue dress approached Dawn, with a small bundle in her arms.
"You've got a cat and dragons? So do I!" She held up the bundle; a very Harry Potter-like baby with cat ears, a tail and dragon wings stared curiously at Dawn.
"Glg?"
"Oh, where are my manners? I'm Publica Kurusu, and this is my adopted son, Leyuu. We're badfic rescues, thanks to the happy couple."
"Mngl." Leyuu raised one chubby arm, almost as if he was waving at Dawn.
(Sorry for not posting this sooner, but I've been meaning to write a ficlet for my agents receiving their invites, so here it is - along with their arrival!)
Falchion's screech of joy nearly made Ripper jump out of his feathers.
"RIPPER! I'M GONNA BE A BEST MAN! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? OUR FRIEND'S GETTING MARRIED AND I'M GONNA BE THE GUY STANDING NEXT TO HIM WHEN THEY KISS!"
The Deinonychus blinked slowly, looking at his ironclad partner in utter confusion. "Best man? What are you talking about?"
"Oh? Didn't you get the invitation?"
"What invitation?"
Falchion let out an ecstatic squawk right in Ripper's face, his beak snapping dangerously close to the other's snout: "VALON AND KALA ARE GETTING MARRIED!!"
Ripper instinctively pulled his head back, clawing at his ears with his taloned wings. "Gah, not so loud... Well, that explains the shiny envelope I received a while ago."
The smile was wiped from Falchion's face. "You never even opened it?"
"I'm not concerned with the mating habits of humans, to be honest. Unless, of course, they happen to be Suvian, and that's only for the sake of finding the opportunity of picking them off."
The Skarmory rolled his head. "Ripper, there's no, er, no mating involved - notwithstanding the fact that this is a mating ritual! Uh, sort of. This is basically Valon and Kala making it official that they're legally a breeding pair."
"Valon never wanted to have offspring."
"I know, but still!"
"And I'm still not interested. The only reason I'll be there is to see Kala again."
"Don't worry, you will! Just sit tight at the reception and don't eat anyone! Please? For me?"
Ripper gave Falchion a deadpan look, and then bowed his head in a huff. "As mentioned, though, only for you and Kala."
Falchion let out an avian equivalent of a squee, and then gasped. "Crap, I gotta call Sarah!"
----------
Sarah was minding her own business with her partners when her mobile phone went off, causing Lapis to yelp and prepare to dive into the closet. Upon seeing her take the phone out, though, the blue-haired girl looked a little less nervous.
The Super agent recognized the number, and answered immediately. "Hey, Adam!"
"Hey, Sarah! Hey, can you, uh, can you put your phone on speaker? I wanna speak, eh, wanna speak to all of you guys!"
"Is Ripper there?"
"Uh, ye-... No?"
Beat. "He's there, isn't he?"
Ripper's voice could be heard from the other end of the phone. "It isn't my responsibility if you inadvertently damage your communication equipment out of anger, Stratogale. Just FYI."
"Shut up, lizard-lips! I only want to speak to Adam!"
"Uh, raptors aren't related to-" Falchion began, but Sarah cut him off.
"I know what I said! Just... Ugh. I'll pretend he isn't there, okay?" She put the phone on speaker.
"Hey, Lapis! You too, Cupid!"
"Hi, Falchion!" the others said simultaneously.
"What made you wanna talk to all of us, anyway?" asked Sarah. "You sound pretty excited."
"Well... You know Valon Vance and Kala Jeng?"
"Haven't heard of 'em." Sarah smiled apologetically. "Sorry!"
"I have, though!" said Lapis. "Rayner told me about them a while ago. Why?"
"Well, they're getting married! A-and I'm gonna be the best man! Best bird, I mean. Best man, whatever!"
"I heard!" Lapis replied. "Rayner told me about that, too! Congrats to them both!"
"Yeah, what she said!" said Cupid. "Are we invited?"
"The invites are for those they know personally, and What's-His-Name and I were among those people. We're allowed to bring guests, though, so I was wondering if any of you could come."
"I'd be totally down for meeting them!" Sarah pumped her fist. "Though I'm guessing a certain somebody is also coming, right?"
"In his defense, he didn't want to go, and the only reason he's there is to meet Kala again. So don't worry, the reception won't be invaded by any dinosaur armies anytime soon!"
Ripper's snarl could be heard from the other end of the phone.
"Sorry! Just joking there, heh..."
"I'm still willing to go, but just keep me a mile away from the guy," said Sarah. "Or vice versa."
"Good to know! Anyone else up for it?"
"Well, Rayner invited me as his guest, so I'm in," said Lapis. "Cupid, on the other hand? I rather doubt it."
"Yeah, I have a few committments over at FicPsych that I can't reschedule," the angel added. "And besides, Sarah would never let me go, whether or not any alcohol is involved."
"Not after last time," Sarah hissed, before switching back to her cheerful tone. "So, you're the best man?"
"Eeyup!" Falchion's voice was laced with pride. "I can't wait to stand next to Valon when he kisses the bride!"
Sarah paused. "...Are you sure you're cut out for this?"
"Why? I already sent the letter accepting the invite just now! What's the problem?"
"Well, the best man is the chief assistant to the groom, and the third most important in attendance after the happy couple," Sarah explained. "He's got a lot of roles to take care of: he assists the groom, he's in charge of the ushers, he acts as a legal witness to the marriage, he prepares a 'best man's speech' to be read at the reception..."
There was a loud THUNK as bird met floor. "I resign!"
----------
A few weeks later...
"I cannot believe I'm doing this," the dark-haired Asian young man said as he and his redheaded partner entered the courtyard. "Literally. Cannot."
"The only other member of our team suitable for the niche you are currently occupying is both female and unable to come," Ripper replied. "She told me to tell you that she is occupied with more important matters, though whether or not that's a good thing is anyone's guess."
The Skarmory and the raptor, both disguised in their human forms, were all dressed up for the occasion. Falchion wore a silver suit with a red inside lining and tie, dark gray pants, light gray shoes, and a silver feather in his hair. Ripper had several scarlet feathers behind his ear, and was clad head-to-toe in a blood-red tuxedo.
"Sheesh, that's cold," said Falchion. "But her problems aren't ours to take care of, so we might as well make do."
Two other agent teams appeared at that point. Sarah (dressed in a black and blue ballroom gown with accents of silver, red, and purple, and with her dark hair in a stylish bun) was the first to notice them, rushing over and shoving Ripper aside to hug her adopted brother.
"Hey, Adam! And no, Ripper, I'm not sorry."
"Wow, sheesh," said Rayner, dressed in a white-and-rainbow suit that reminded the group of Rainbow Dash's Grand Galloping Gala outfit. "You two have a grudge or something? Also, hi, Falco! You look awesomazing, if I do say so myself!"
Lapis, in an ocean-blue gown with reddish accents not unlike Kyogre's markings, rubbed the back of her equally blue hair (spray-painted with metallic blue highlights, of course). "They've been like that for as long as they can remember," she said. "Just keep them away from each other and you should be fine."
"At least they can afford that luxury," said E.V.L., who'd brought up the rear with thigh-high black lace stockings, dark-matter hair billowing in a nonexistent breeze like black fire, and a rather revealing crimson gown with a demonic motif.
"Hideous as always, Glitter Girl?" said Rayner, winking.
"You look absolutely dreadful yourself," she replied with a dry chuckle. "Shall we get ready? The bird's the best man, if I'm not mistaken. Shouldn't he take care of the wedding rings?"
"Oh, flock, I forgot!" Falchion cried, slapping his forehead. "Hey, uh, I've gotta uh, take care of things with the staff and such! Meetcha at the reception! Save a spot for me at the dining table! Merry early Christmas!"
With that, he dashed off, leaving the others to stare after him in utter confusion.
"Did he even prepare for this wedding?" asked Sarah.
"I never asked," said Ripper. "No doubt he spent the whole day before browsing the Internet and whipped up a crudely articulated speech an hour before sleeping."
For once, Sarah didn't have any disdainful response for her arch-nemesis. "Welp... Looks like we're off to a good start."