A Very Nexus Reception

[smartass_captain]

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!))

Comments

[conjuredskies]

Isidor cuts an imposing figure with her polished black armor and predatory mount, but she's not the only one who got all dressed up for this. Trotting up to the opposite marker is a knight clad in sleek gold and green armor, glittering in the sunlight. The grey destrier she rides seems remarkably calm facing the giant bird across the field, though he does toss his head and snort at the smell, his green caparison fluttering.

The squires announce: "Lady Isidor Durant against Sir Yolande Hawkwood of Glenumbra." Across from her, the knight's crested helm tilts as she inclines her head and lifts her lance in salute. They're far too distant to see the way Yolande's narrowed eyes take in the gryphon and her rider, or the sharp curve of the smile she wears. This is a match like none in Tamriel, and she's a woman who's always had a lot to prove. No less so on the jousting field.

As soon as the banner drops, she's spurring her war horse into a charge. He springs forward readily, hooves thundering towards Isidor- and that lance lowering into a deadly threat.

[heirtothedragonsfire]

The glinting armour and the horse's matching covering suggest one thing: This opponent has experience. Isidor steels herself in the face of this reasonably safe assumption. It doesn't matter, though, she has to win. The greatest difficulty is in not using magic to help her. Just to nudge the other's lance a fraction, or keep her own on point. Now that would be easy, but she pushes those thoughts out of her head. Where would be the challenge in that? she tells herself, as if that's a good enough reason to play mundane.

It doesn't matter, though. She's good enough to win, and she will win. That's the only option here. A thought that comes just in time for the banner to fall.

Integrity charges forward and Isidor's heart skips a beat as they get over the first hurdle: Lowering the lance at the right point of the gryphon's bounding charge. Too often in her practice the weapon sped into the ground with the help of the rocking motions of her steed's gait, but not this time. This time she keeps it up and she fixes her sights on her opponent.

The heavy weight of the knight's lance pushes against her chest and then slips away, but she tightens her grip on her own lance as it hits her opponent... and then they've passed each other. She can hear the cheering, and she's still on her mount, but she catches her breath until she reaches the side opposite her starting point before she turns around to see how her opponent has faired.