smartass_captain | A Very Nexus Reception

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A Very Nexus Reception

To all the friends of the happy grooms, PINpoint messages have already been sent weeks ago inviting them to expect quite the street party arranged in the commons of the Nexus. Guests have been invited to bring an appetite--both for food and for a social adventure. Nirnish weddings are public affairs, after all. While the ceremony has had to be somewhat sequestered for the sake of keeping the existence of Other Worlds a secret, neither Felix nor Jim would want to leave out their interdimensional friends entirely. Having a reception party arranged in the Nexus became the natural plan of action.

Overnight large sections of the Commons are transformed via diligent craftsmanship and quite a lot of magic from those who’ve volunteered. Lanterns representing the Divines are hung along every lamp post, bringing at least the idea of warmth even if the flames are too small to heat their surroundings alone. Bardic tunes carry in the air as readily as the scent of food and drink. Past banners of red and black, blue and white the people gather.

For both grooms this is nearly a continuation of the day before. They’ve had the chance to sleep off the nerves of their ceremony. Today is entirely for celebration--uninhibited celebration at that. No more minding what is said and isn’t. No more pretending to be anything other than who they are. Jim’s traded out his Nirnish finery for a suit and tie, garments he’s much more familiar with. Felix is staying with his native clothing; though he may have dressed down a little from his wedding clothes, the conjurer’s dressed in fitted breeches and his best fur-trimmed coat and boots, the soft hide dyed blue to match his tunic. By their side sits the conjurer’s spectral wolf familiar, ears pricked at the gathering.

As the guests find their ways over it will be easy to spot their friends amidst all the decor along with many other avenues with which to enjoy themselves….

Greetings
Food and Drink
Music and Dancing
Bonfire Entertainment
Party Games

((Links to all relevent wedding Prose can be found Here!))

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"Runa!" Harrowheart hollers as he bobs through globby rafts of partygoers. As he hurries in unplanned directions he stands on his toes and bends down to peer past people's elbows. Certainly he'll see her at one of those heights. The challenge, really, is to keep up his momentum without spilling any drinks -- his own especially. He has to take a few strategic sips as he makes his way around, all the while shouting.

"Runa!"

And there she is! He hustles over to her and makes a show of puffing when he drops a heavy hand on her shoulder. After all that running he's going to need to hydrate. Better knock back that alcohol. Annnnd now he's good.

"Runa, whew, glad I found you. You know what I just saw? Joustin'. They got a joustin' competition goin' on! Runa, I really wanna joust, but, look... It says you gotta bring your own mount, and I ain't got one, so I was thinkin'..."

He jabs his thumb into his sternum, then points frantically at her. Him. Her! JOUST!

The thing about Harrowheart and Runa is that they feed off of each other's excitement like a terrible feedback loop that is usually only tempered by the comparatively dour Durants. Without either nearby Runa is free to jump at Harrowheart's sudden appearance and laugh along with him until he gets to the mention of jousting.

"Jousting?!" That sounds amazing! That sounds like so much fun to watch!

She watches his hand go back and forth between them, her eyes going wide.

It could be way more fun to do.

Runa laughs again and then claps her hand over her mouth. "Us? Do you think I could do that? Do you think we could do that?"

Harrowheart flops his arm over Runa's shoulder and looks down at her with a broad, slightly inebriated smile. "Runa. Darling. You and me, we can do anything. We probably can't do it good, but we can do it."

He pats her, then disengages from their half-hug to look her up and down. "If you're gonna be the knight, you're gonna want some kinda armor. You ever wore armor before? You know, my set oughta fit you..."

There's only a foot's height difference between them, after all.

"And you know how to ride a horse?"

The affectionate, derpy reassurance sets her giggling all over again.

"I know how to ride a horse. I loved horses when I was a girl." She taps his chest with a big grin of her own. "But I don't know that your armour will fit me. You're much bigger and stronger than me. I'd be better off wearing a frying pan!"

"I loved horses when I was a little girl, too. You know, I think they're still my favorite animal."

At her last remark Harrow tosses his head back and cackles. "A fryin' pan! Maybe that'll be your weapon."

He takes in a deep breath of air and proudly reminds her, "My armor's enchanted! It changes shape when I turn into a worgen. Why wouldn't it change shape to fit you, too? Maybe the real question is..."

He rubs his chin as he considers the little would-be warrior. "You ready to inflict some carnage? You ready to obliterate the impious? Whatever that means. I heard Zandros say it once."

Careful, Harrowheart, Runa will be so busy laughing that she'll be unable to sit up and do any jousting at all!

"I'm ready to show everyone I'm not a little girl anymore," she tells him with a lazy smile. "Maybe I won't obliterate anyone, but I'll give them a good smack!"

Shoving his arm, she asks, "Do you think you can run in a straight line?"

Harrowheart lifts a finger, ready to swiftly protest. He opens his mouth and... Very quickly realizes he hasn't got an argument! He can't lie to Runa. He would, but he's pretty sure she'd know better. Ladies always do.

"I!... Will be more sober when I come back with my armor." He nods once, which makes it a fact.

He keeps that finger up, but now it's to ask her to wait a minute. Wait juuuust a minute as he turns around, grabs the nearest unguarded glass of bourbon, knocks it back, and quickly disappears into the crowd. He'll be back with his armor! One hopes...

* * *

It's about an hour later when Harrowheart returns. He cuts through the crowd that makes way for him and the wheelbarrow he's pushing. And in it? A stack of dark blue plate armor. It clatters and rattles with every little bump he hits.

"Runa!" he calls as he rolls on up to her. "You ready to be the second best-dressed person here tonight? I'd say best, but I saw what Isidor came in tonight, and I ain't sure we can compete with that."

He parks his wheelbarrow next to her and gestures to the scattered armor pieces. "I'll help you get in it. I'll even take a picture of you, if you really want."

If she were as competitive as her sister-in-law she'd be screeching at the sight of him knocking back more alcohol. She's not, however, and the act is so quintessentially 'Harrowheart' that instead she laughs and laughs.

By the time he returns she'd nearly abandoned the prospect of participating, thinking she'd lost the death knight to some better distraction. Seeing the armour in a wheelbarrow sends a flurry of excitement through her.

"Oh you'll have to help me into it," she says as she comes over, brushing the cold metal with her fingertips. "And you'll have to take a photo."

Biting her lip, she grimace-grins at him. "Are you sure this is going to fit? You're so tall and muscular! I'm the exact opposite of you."

“Trust the process,” he assures her, and with that gets to work.

Harrow rummages through the pile of armor and comes back up with a pair of plate and leather gauntlets in his hands. He holds one out for Runa and waits for her to put her hand into it.

As she expected, it’s far too large for hands like hers. For a moment, at least. The enchantment that allows Harrowheart to shift his forms without bursting his armor works on Runa, too, and quickly. The leather interior presses in until it meets her skin and stops at a comfortable snugness, leaving just enough room for her to flex her fingers.

Harrowheart smiles. The subtle shift in size isn’t much to see, but he knows the magic must be working.

There’s no more time to waste, though. He quickly gets to work assembling the armor around her. Now and then he fumbles with a buckle or isn’t quite sure how to positioning himself around her, but soon enough there’s a breastplate shrinking in against her chest, spiked pauldrons resting on her shoulders, and a jangling, layered tasset at her hips.

When his work of art is complete Harrow tosses the helmet to her and pulls out his phone. He crouches down (and doesn’t even wobble as he does!) and searches for the Perfect Angle.

“So?” he asks as he zooms and leans, “How’s it feel bein’ a death knight?”

Some grunting and tugging helps get the gloves on. When they finally manage to get it on properly her eyes go wide with curiosity at the subtle magic. She wants to poke it! But she can't when she has gauntlets on.

Being encased in armour is certainly a strange experience. A bit like getting wrapped up before going out into the snow. The more Harrowheart piles onto her the more she's glad he's helping. Getting herself ready just wouldn't have been an option, even when it does shrink down to a size the suits her.

"It feels... heavy." She lifts her arms experimentally. "How do you put all of this on by yourself?" Remembering what he's doing she hastily adds, "And what's the coolest pose in this armour?"

Harrowheart smiles at her question and wiggles his fingers. “Magic hands make everything easier.”

He shrugs his shoulder to jostle the sword in the sheath on his back, then pulls it free. “The coolest pose,” he says, “Is a murder pose. Stand like you’re swingin’ a sword and I’ll make my runeblade float between your hands. Just don’t go touchin’ it.”

From hilt to tip the blade’s runes flash. It does not appreciate being used as a prop, you knaves! But it doesn’t really have a say in the matter, does it?

The wiggling fingers get another laugh from Runa. It makes sense in hindsight, but this is still all so heavy. It's hard to imagine getting it on without three pairs of hands.

"Swinging a sword?" But she barely has time to echo him before he's continuing on with his instructions. As she tries to imagine what it would really be like to swing a sword so heavy, and uncertainly gets into what seems vaguely correct, he has her thinking. "Is the magic so powerful it will even go through your gauntlets?" And then, more sceptically asks, "Are my arms right?"

"The magic? Of my swords? Sure thing. In fact," he says, and for a moment lowers the phone so that he can look at Runa without a screen between them, "I think they called to me before I ever saw 'em." And just like that he raises the phone again and starts to nod.

"I think if they really want a person, they don't need to be held. But I know that once you hold 'em, you give 'em power over you. Lotta magic's like that. You know that. Don't invite evil in... But posin' with it strategically ain't off limits."

He ducks out from behind the phone for a quick smile and a nod. The camera clicks and Harrowheart says, "Your arms were just fine."

He stows his phone away and nods in the direction of the joust. "So? You ready to win?"

If Runa's 'intimidating' expression looks a little uncertain that's because Harrowheart's answer is more than a little unnerving. The armour is cool, but she's glad to whip her hands away from the sword the second after she hears the click of the camera. Shyly muttering a small, "Thank you."

Then she's hopping towards the joust, eager to get away to the sword and to have some fun. "Yes! Come on!"

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A Very Nexus Reception

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