10.11.3013: Planning A Real Khourni Wedding
Summary: New plans are needed for the wedding between Devon and Victor. Anabethe, Flint, Reena, and Nitrim all help in their own way.
Date: 21 September 2013
Related: None Directly
Anabethe Devon Victor Flint Nitrim Reena 


Living Quarters Greatroom, Blackspyre, Volkan
This room, as the entry to the living quarters of the Khournas family, is about as sumptuous as things get in the Blackspyre. The floor is sheathed in black tile, heated from below by veins of magma running through the tower itself. Deep red carpets have been layered over the tile across most of the expanse of the room, softening footfalls and providing a visual sense of warmth to go along with the physical one. One wall of the greatroom is taken up by a large 'fireplace' where one of the heat-proof transparent tubes filled with lava can be seen pulsing and roiling its way up the tower. Around the other walls are a scattering of drakeskins, paintings of battle and hunt, and shelves of holobooks. Several couches and chairs are gathered in clumps around the room, providing seating for twenty or so with ease. Opposite the lift is a corridor that leads back into the actual living quarters and a private drawing room, with the entrance to the corridor guarded by two men-at-arms at all times.
11 October 3013

Anabethe is just making her way up the Spyre from the gym, still red-faced and sweating from her run. And yet she took the stairs. Because she's hard-core like that. It's shorts and a tank top for her, hair pulled back into a ponytail with a towel draped across her neck. "Halloooooo the quarters!" she calls breathlessly as she reaches the top of the stairs, heading directly for a pitcher of water to pour herself a tall glass and start chugging. "Anybody home?"

Despite the first day of Autumn having come and gone, the Crescent maintains a warm early season. This explains Devon's choice of light silk and bare shoulders and arms. Her feet are bare, whispering softly as she exits the quarters she shares with her betrothed. "I doubt there will be a day that the Blackspyre is empty," she replies to Bethe's call, offering the Young Lady an easy smile as she tucks her tablet behind her back, both hands clasping the device lightly at her sacrum.

Victor was apparently in the Drawing Room doing work, because he pokes his head out, grumbling, "What?" It's not an angry sort of grumble, just a distracted one. Blinking as he recognizes the voice and spots Devon as well, Vic runs a hand down his face, "What she said. Enjoying your time out havin' fun, 'Bethe?" Now there's a definite grumpy grumble to his voice.

Flint was asked to drop by two different people in about a couple days of each other. Devon asked him just a few days ago, and Bethe just says that he needs to drop by my often. So, here he is, the elevator doors open and the Grantham Knight rolling on out. Blackspyre is so unlike the Red House. Bigger, larger hallways. But he rolls down the main hallway, looking for signs of life.

"Right. I was totally up to fun," Bethe pants to Victor after a long drink, gesturing up and down at her current, sweaty state. "Or staying in shape. Could be either, really." She shifts her head from one side to the other, neck popping softly. "Wouldn't do to get out in the field and run out of breath halfway through dancing with another Hostile, after all." Drinking again, she steps out of her sneakers, tossing them under a table. "I guess that means there's nothing interesting going on here?" she asks, looking between Devon and Victor before turning at the sound of the elevator.

"It depends entirely on your definition of interesting," Devon offers with a quirk of a smile, striding forward with that whisper of gradient lavender. There is a certain sobriety to her gaze as she continues, "When it was a double wedding, I allowed Reena to do much of the planning, but now I'm trying to figure out how to adjust all her hardwork to fit our smaller, more…" Her shoulders fall a bit. "Somber affair." Then she looks over as she spots the wheeling Flint, and she offers a more genuine smile that gently touches her pale eyes.

Victor nods to Anabethe, "Yeah. That's what I said, havin' fun." He nods at Devon's words, "And I can't help that much, because I'm workin' on the patrol plan you and the boss-man set me to." And then his teeth flash in a grin, "Which is just fine by me, but a pain in the ass for Dee." The rolling entrance causes him to blink, and then he puts points together in his head, stepping out of the doorway to move over toward the Grantham, extending his right hand. As he moves, he speaks over the shoulder to the two women, "Just gotta make sure we've got beer and food and the Khourni'll be fine." And then he arrives before Flint, hand still extended, "Vic."

"Because you know how much of a hardon, she has for them." Flint grunts in the processing wheeling on over. "But, y'know, at least they can dance, I can't even claim as much. Unless I started doing it on my hands, and there's not nearly enough mead for those kind of antics." He cranes his head around, taking a mental reminder of where the walls are and what not to run into. "Evening all. I was told by two people that I don't visit enough. And I can only take so much of their harping in my ear. The extended by Vic is looked at, then up at him, taking it with his left. "Flint."

"It's not the beer and food, Vic," Anabethe wrinkles her nose at Victor. "It's more not just straight up canceling every vendor, yeah?" she asks, looking to Devon. "Giving them a reason to at least use things. You know, if there's stuff that can't be canceled and we don't need, you should maybe talk to Reena about donating it to the Notice Project," she suggests. "Might take some of the sting out of it, and it'd look good all around." As Flint speaks up, she turns toward the Grantham knight with a wry smile, though she watches Victor's introduction with some curiosity. "You'll dance eventually, Flint. Once they put Humpty Dumpty back together again."

There is a touch of discomfort that settles around her shoulders as Anabethe suggests just canceling the vendors, and she shakes her head. "No… it isn't quite as easy as that. Mother wants to hold her reservations for wh — when Kadmus wakes up." She looks down at her tablet, shuffling through the various lists she's working through. "I think we might just forego the usual sizable meal and go for small plates… and lots of booze." The conversation around dancing does cause her to cast a glance toward Victor. "I imagine that there won't be much if any dancing…" She looks around the greatroom. "Though I guess we could make room for that…" Then she shakes her head. "Anyway… Vic's patrols are far more interesting than this," she says, her voice a touch heavy. She looks toward Victor expectantly.

The lift hums to a stop and the doors slowly open to reveal the shadowy form of Nitrim Khournas in his great coat with the cowl pulled down low to give him that hermetic look he favors so much. All blacks with black gloves and only his goatee showing from beneath the cowl, he drags an unseen, yet felt, aura of black clouds with him as he walks into the Greatroom. Tablet in hand, he salutes the group with it as he moves to find some food to forage through, building a plate for himself, presumably, to retreat into his room with.

The extension of Flint's left hand causes Victor to swap his hand easily enough so that he meets the handshake left-to-left. "I figured. Welcome to the 'Spyre." He half-turns back to Anabethe, "That's a damned good idea. And that's why you two actually plan shit, and I hit things." He nods down to the fridge alongside the bar, "Beer me? I think I'm done with patrol schedules for now." And then he points to Devon's complaints, "Yeah. That'll complicate things." And then he walks over to the bar despite his request, gathering a beer bottle and setting it down, then pouring a glass of mead and holding it out to Devon. Dancing… dancing he's not commenting on. Nitrim's pass-by draws a nod, but nothing more.

The door to Reena's apartments open, and the young woman steps out, pulling a rolling suitcase behind her with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. She looks tired, as if she hasn't gotten much sleep recently, but she's been done up prettily enough by her serving maid, wearing blue with minimal, tasteful makeup. She pauses at seeing a gathering, and blinks a little owlishly. "I'm heading back to New Atlantis in a few. Anything you need from me before I go?"

"Oh. Right, Kadmus." Flint states. What does the Grantham at this particular moment. "Yeah, that's…shitty." is the word he decides on. There's no love between Grantham and the Volen, no siree. "Just as well, nobody wants me dancing, I'd just go and break my legs at someone anyways. So people are better off." The mention of being put back together earns Bethe a snort. "As soon as Doc Elodie and Doc Helena figure out just what the hell they're going to put in my spine once they tear out the bits that don't work anymore. Speaking of, Devon, your the medical sort. I have a hypo used for nerve pain, but I can't reach around to my lower back. Could you, uh…shoot me up?" At that, he looks up at Vic. "Thanks. Heard about you, though I never put a face to the name till now."

"She just wants to hold them?" Anabethe quirks a brow at Devon. "Like…indefinitely?" She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, but whatever she was going to say, she holds it back when Reena comes out. "Hey, Reenie," she says softly. "I think the question is, is there anything we can do for you before you go?" Nitrim's arrival gets a glance, though she's trying to focus on one sibling at a time at the moment.

"Yes," Devon says to Flint, though it is accompanied by a gently amused smile. She is stepping toward the wheelchair-bound man as Reena emerges, and she pauses as her hand alights gently on Flint's shoulder. She offers him a gentle squeeze before she gives Reena a somber expression. "Mother knows I'm coming to see her tomorrow, but…" She hesitates, glancing toward Bethe at her words, and she offers a bit of a smile of thanks. Nitrim however earns her a more steady glance, and she frowns a bit at the palpable moodiness that surrounds him. Victor and Anabethe are both given glances before she looks down at Flint. Even as she starts to fuss with his hypo spray, her eyes take on a soft white haze and her angelic aura causes her to glow faintly.

"Yes," Devon says to Flint, though it is accompanied by a gently amused smile. "Indefinitely," she confirms to Bethe. She is stepping toward the wheelchair-bound man as Reena emerges, and she pauses as her hand alights gently on Flint's shoulder. She offers him a gentle squeeze before she gives Reena a somber expression. "Mother knows I'm coming to see her tomorrow, but…" She hesitates, glancing toward Bethe at her words, and she offers a bit of a smile of thanks. Nitrim however earns her a more steady glance, and she frowns a bit at the palpable moodiness that surrounds him. Victor and Anabethe are both given glances before she looks down at Flint. Even as she starts to fuss with his hypo spray, her eyes take on a soft white haze and her angelic aura causes her to glow faintly.

Meat. Potatoes. Veg. Side dishes. Nitrim quietly scoops them all onto the plate and then slides his tablet inside of his coat. Of course, each gesture is met with a little stab of the serving fork, a sort of passive-aggressive deal with it, plate! as he shoves the food onto it. There's a resounding clink as the serving fork is dropped aside and he licks his fingers clean, giving Victor a return nod on his way to the bar. Door open and two beer bottles later, he waves to the group from behind his head and turns for his room. "I hope things turn out okay, Reena. I will be here if you need me." He finally says as he nudges the handle to his door with his elbow and boot-shoves it the rest of the way open.

Reena looks genuinely touched by the offers of help, and she shakes her head. "He's going to be just fine, his body just needs to heal a lot of things, and it's better if he's not awake for it. Especially as stubborn as he can be, he'd probably try to discharge himself from the facility and make it worse." She gives a weak smile at that bit of forced humor. "I'll be back for your wedding. Let me know if there's anything you need me to bring." She nods to Nitrim as he departs, too weary to notice all the weird in the room at the moment.

Victor nods at Flint's comment toward him, his dark eyes cutting over to Devon and Anabethe before they return to the wheelchair-bound man, "Likewise. Think we were even on the same field a time or two." He sets the glass of mead down on the table, popping off the top of his beer and taking a swig. Reena's arrival causes him to set his glass down, moving over to his younger cousin. He reaches out with his right hand to cradle the back of her head and draw her into a quick embrace. "Hey. Siddown for a couple minutes with family, eh?" The glow about Devon draws his attention, even as he stays at Reena's side.

Flint leans forward in his chain, reaching into a pocket on the side of his wheelchair where he keeps an array of hypos. Some for pain, some to prevent any kind of infection, others in a vain attempt to stimulate nerve regrowth, but he hands her one for pain, lifting up the back of his shirt. There's a mass of surgical scars on his lower back, all neat lines of scar tissue. "Just try not to hit bone above the scars. Or I'm going to feel it. And it'll hurt. A lot. Like hitting your funny bone, but times a thousand." he points out, breathing out once in mental preparation. He tries to look up at Vic. "So you were the other guy that ran forward on Niveus. Or was it in the Vale, I forget. There was a preist I was eyeballing that you got to before I could." As far as the stuff between Reena and Kadmus goes, he doesn't add anything. Probably for the best that he doesn't.

Anabethe reaches out to give Reena's shoulder a squeeze before stepping back again, taking a few steps toward Flint and Devon with a curious eye. "Hey, we'll just be happy to see you, Reenie," she promises with a flicker of a smile, taking the towel from the back of her neck and wiping her face with a heavy sigh. "I even promise to look a little less like something the cat dragged in." She manages to take up a spot near Flint, watching idly as Devon gets with the spraying.

"I'm aware how to administer a hypo shot," Devon says to her Uncle even as she starts to work her hand down the man's spine with care. It takes her a few moments to compress the spray and release the pain medicine directly into the man's spine. She breathes out a slow exhale as she straightens up, pausing to offer Flint a gentle smile before she nods to Anabethe. Then she steps away a bit. Her pale eyes remain whiten for a moment longer before they clear and return to their soft blue-glass hue. She frowns deeply, looking at Nitrim's door with a touch of concern furrowing her brow.

Reena returns Victor's hug and lets herself be drawn over to sit down for a few. "All right, but not too long. The Waygate security is so high right now, it's going to take me an hour to get through." She watches the administering of the hypo spray and looks to Anabethe for a moment. Then back to Devon. "Wait, wait, Dee? Are you letting Beth handle the plans?" It's said as if the Volen is letting a hostile babysit for her.

Victor shrugs at Flint's commentary on battles past, "I've seen a lot of Priests by this point, Flint. And yeah, I was on Niveus when the Lady Iah went down. Haven't fought in the Vale though." He nods to Reena, moving over to get his bottle of beer and then perch on the arm of one of the stuffed chairs. "Hell no, Reena. And I can't even help her." Grunting softly, he takes a pull of his beer, "The security measures saved a lotta people, Reena." His free hand comes up to rub at his bandage-wrapped chest.

"Just reminding." Flint utters, strained at being doubled over like he is. Thankfully, he can't feel the needle go in, but he can certainly feel the medication take effect. "Ooooh…." he sighs, then pulling his shirt down to lean back in his chair. "That's just….fantastic." he grins. It's a pretty heavy painkiller since it's for nerves. Then he rolls his shoulders and shifts in his chair a bit, to make sure he's not going to have surprise pain if he bends a certain way. "At least you've been busy." he comments to Vic. "I don't know how I seem to remember the daily economic trends of Ignis ore, but you stare that stuff long enough it sticks." Pause. "Went up five points today with an average of thirty-three credits per pound over this entire week." Then he frowns. "Why the hell do I remember this shit."

"Hey," Anabethe says defensively at Reena's alarm. "I'm not going to break anything. But no, I'm not handling any of the plans," she admits, stepping aside to drop into one of the couches. "I could, though. I wouldn't mess things up. I'm working on supplies and the like for the forces in the field, though," she sighs. "Which is a pain in the ass, but has to be done, and at least it's progress."

"Perhaps for the same reason that I can tell you how well the rolled sheet metal market is," Devon says dryly toward Flint, but then she smiles toward Anabethe. "I read through the economic notes for you today, Young Lady… your father rather liked the report I sent to him on your behalf." And she smirks. Then she releases a slow sigh as she steps to take a seat, dropping heavily into the embrace of the cushions. She shakes her head a bit at Reena's words. "No… I have not asked anyone to help me directly… strangely enough Micaya has offered to ensure that the kitchens are able to put together something worth eating for an unknown number of guests." Then she glances toward Victor, and she smirks. "You're desire to contribute overwhelms me."

Reena nods at her cousin and grimaces at his obvious injury. "I know. I just don't want to be gone too long. They still say that people in coma's can sense or hear things, even though they might not remember them when they wake up. They feel some comfort from not being alone." Hopefully she's saying NICE things to her fiance, and not badgering him in his state about screwing up their wedding plans. "With the press being all over Khournas lately, I want to be sure I don't make any missteps while being the compassionate betrothed. I don't want to hurt the Notice Project." Ah, there's the practical Reena. She actually chuckles a bit at Anabethe. "Feeding an army, and making a seating chart for wedding guests to ensure there aren't 27 duels on the lawn outside, is a whole different ball game, Beth." She looks at Devon with concern. "If you need my help, and you'll be in Mare Maris tomorrow, we can work on some things."

Victor shakes his head at Flint, "I don't remember the fields, just the patterns." Most of his family knows well enough that he spends hours on end looking at suit-cam videos of previous fights. "They've got a style, the Hosties. Patterns, sometimes." And then he's getting teased by his betrothed, and he snorts back, "You know I'd do more harm than good, Dee." And he groans at Reena, "Gods no… no seating charts. Just family, friends. Here. Casual." And then he looks back over to Devon, "That is still the plan, right?"

"Feh, I already feel like I'm a Castellan, but Marah's too cheap to actually give me the title." Flint waves a hand. "Well…no, she knows I wouldn't use it anyways. So I -guess- she's doing me a favor." As people start to conglomerate towards the couchs, that's where he heads to as well. There's some more listening about wedding stuff, which is stuff that he really has no imput on, so he gives a couple glances to Bethe, probably his way of saying hi without breaking up the conversation. "Eh, there won't be twenty-seven duels. And if there were, the Volens would just make someone else's vassals do it for them." A nod goes to Vic. "I've heard stuff like that, though I haven't been able to go over as much cam footage as I'd like. But, uh, casual wedding, I can dig that. Don't make a huge spectacle out of it. I like it."

"Why wouldn't you want 27 duels on the front lawn?" Anabethe says with an innocent smile for her sister. Without looking, she tosses a pillow at Flint for his commentary on the Volens. "Really, though, Reena. We'll be fine. And you'll see, because you'll be here." And that's all she's saying about that, it seems. "See? Devon even vouches for me."

"There will not be twenty-seven duels," Devon says, her voice laced with honest patience. Though she does cast Victor a reassuring smile. "It will remain small and casual. I have no intentions to change that…" She breathes out a deep sigh, her shoulders deflating under the release. She does smile toward Reena at her offer and gently nods. "I think that would be wonderful, Reena… it has been too long since my first wedding… and I had Marah to help me that time around. While Micaya and Emilie have been helpful… well… your mother and Victor's mother…" As if that says it all.

"Casual is fine, but there are still decisions to be made. Will you have a maid of honor? Will you have bridesmaids and ushers? Will there be favors for the guests to take with them? Dancing? Cake? Are you accepting gifts?" Reena starts rattling off, ticking things off on her fingertips. "Anyway, I really need to get to the Ways. Otherwise I'll fall asleep on my feet waiting in line. I'll see you tomorrow, Devon? We'll get things done." She hugs her family members and gives Flint a smile, before heading into the lift with her luggage.

Victor grunts at Flint's commentary on the Volen, rumbling quietly, "Piss off, Flint." There's no real venom there, in fact there might even be a grin, "If I'm gonna marry into both of these families, this petty shit's gotta stop." Again, the grin's still there. It's not like he's going to stop all the fighting between two Houses himself, and he knows it." He nods to Devon, "My mom's more worried about economics than wedding details." And then Reena starts going off on the wedding details, and he presses his beer bottle to his forehead, "I don't care, no, no, I don't care, no, no." He returns Reena's hug, settling back down on the arm of the chair again and groaning, "Wedding with like four people on Primus. Party with family. How the hell hard is that?" And he's just griping again, fighting a war he knows he'll lose at least in large part.

"That's Marah talking. I don't much care, I just like to make- ooff!" Flint gets a pillow to the face. Which gets thrown back at Bethe. "Like I said, I don't care, but it was too good of an oppurtunity to just let go. Petty shit, sure, but it's petty shit between two people. My sister is just very protective and I'm fairly certain that if she didn't have grudges she wouldn't be able to function properly and then I'd be running Grantham again and -none- of us want that." But he's nodding then. "See, that's how you should be doing it anyways. Leave the big expansive weddings to the important people. Or the ones that need large weddings to make themselves feel special. What you guys are doing is fine. Hell, wish more people did it that way."

Anabethe snatches the pillow out of the air with a smirk, tucking it behind her back to make herself more comfortable. "Really, guys, there's no need to worry about all that. I thought that was the whole point of doing the small, just family thing, wasn't it?" She eyes Devon, a more serious flicker of concern in her features. "You know I can help if you need to do…all of that stuff, right?"

Each tick of Reena's fingers causes Devon to sink a bit deeper in her chair until she starts to head off toward the lift with her farewell. She nods gently, offering a bit of a tired smile after the woman. "I will see you in New Atlantis," she offers after the hug, and she watches the woman depart. She glances toward Victor and Flint at the exchange concerning her birth family, and again she feels the complexity that is her own identity. But it manages to fall away without much lingering, and she relaxes once more. "I suppose I have already experienced the big, expansive wedding," she says, carefully speaking of that first marriage of hers. "But… you're right… this will be… better." She glances toward where Reena had gone, and she frowns. "We need to make sure she doesn't linger day and night at his bedside… Mother will have that covered…" Then she casts Anabethe a gentle smile. "It is okay, Bethe… really… I'm not…" She tightens her lips a bit. "I'm alright… really."

Victor takes another swig of his beer, pointing out the already-poured mead to Devon, "Whatever you want, we'll all help. I think I've got that patrol schedule whipped. And I'm real good at getting beer into places it's not supposed to be." Then again, it's supposed to be in the family greatroom. He gestures to Anabethe, "What she said." He waves off the careful dance Devon is doing about having been married before, "Anything you were missing or wanted from the first one? For enough cash, I bet we can get most anything in the next couple days."

Yeah marriages. Something Flint has no real imput on, save for that he likes how they're setting theirs up so far. So, he just sits back in his chair, listening on. "You guys do whatever you need to do." he states plainly.

"Honestly, Devon," Anabethe says more quietly. "You don't have to do this alone. Especially with everything that's happened. Whatever you need, we're here to help you with it." She stands up, moving over to the other woman's couch to drop down next to her and wrap a sweaty arm around her shoulders. "You're going to be family. And we don't leave family on their own."

Devon looks almost overwhelmed at all the help she is being offered, but at least she does settle into a soft smile. "Thank you," she says to Anabethe and Victor. Then she is being embraced by the woman who will soon be her cousin. She rests her head against Bethe's briefly, and she breathes out a sigh. She settles into silence for a long moment, letting her thoughs swirl about before she offers her a gentle smile. "I could use someone to get all the booze organized… I imagine we can make sure the mead that Reena set aside for the larger wedding can be used."

Victor flashes a grin over to Anabethe at Devon's suggestion of where she can use help, "Yeah. I think the Drakes can cover that just fine." He finishes off his beer, setting it aside, and then digs into an inside pocket, pulling out his cigar case and offers it out to Anabethe, then Flint. He knows better than to offer a stogie out to Devon. "And I'm sure the kitchens can come up with food for thirty or forty people." Because if they pack many more than that in the Greatroom, it might explode. "So that's the two big things, yeah? Then there's just what the hell you wanna wear. And the whole bridesmaid stuff."

"Well, I was going to offer handling that. If there's one thing I know, it's mead, but if you want Drakes to do that, have at it." Flint offers, but shrugs either way. "It'd give me something else to do anyways." The offered cigar is taken, certainly. "But it seems like you got enough help as it is, so you don't need the cripple offering too."

"Booze and food are easy," Anabethe agrees, giving Devon's shoulders a squeeze. "Just…all you have to do is tell us what you want, and we'll do what we can to make sure it happens. And just ignore Flint," she adds, turning a dry look on the knight. "I sense there is a pity card in play at the moment. He's not the least bit crippled when he doesn't want to be." And that with a bit of a smirk in Flint's direction.

Devon looks thankful between the family she has gathered around her. Her pale, glass-colored eyes settle on Flint briefly. "No, but I certainly want Flint to offer whatever he thinks he could help with." She offers him a warmer smile before she glances toward Victor. "We're having a quiet ceremony in the Chantry… I don't need bridesmaids…" She glances toward Anabethe. "It will also spare you having to get out those dresses you love so much." She chuckles a bit, reaching up to rub at the back of her neck. "I do have a leather jacket I haven't found a reason to wear yet." Ahd she smirks toward Victor. "Approrpriate bridal attire?"

Victor nods at Flint, "All I know about mead is how much the good stuff costs." Because he's been buying it to stock here. "I'm happy to leave that to you, Flint." He snorts in amusement at Anabethe's words, shifting the cigar case around for Flint to offer the integrated cutter and lighter in the case. Nodding at Devon's words, he snorts another chuckle at Devon, flashing another grin, "I don't fuckin' care what you wear, Dee. You always pull it off real well."

Flint stares at Anabethe for a long moment, before using his fist to cover an unexpected cough. "Hey, I said I'm willing to help, I'm just not sure what with." he remarks, but he nods at Vic. "It can, yeah. Simple to make, but really time-consuming and needs to be watched really carefully because it's easy to let a batch spoil. But I can handle all your liqour-organizing needs. Besides, Bethe won't hang out with me unless she's decently boozed-up." He holds up a hand then. "I care what she wears. So long as she's wearing something. I know you guys do the group naked bathing, and that's just fine." He sneaks another glance in at Bethe, "But I'm in no rush to see some kind of odd Khournas naked wedding ceremony or something. Because, I'm going to be crushed, my plans for streaking won't have as much impact if everybody else's outfit is their birthday suit."

"Well, you know. It's one way to make sure everyone involved is human and unarmed," Anabethe drawls at the idea of a naked Khourni ceremony, smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "And wear what you want, Devon. I dunno, for me, I don't think I want to do the whole…big wedding, fancy dress thing the second time around. Kind of…awkward when you're remembering how it all went the first time. But that's me."

"No… in some part, I do agree, Bethe…" Devon glances toward Victor a moment before she settles her attention once more on the Young Lady. "I have a few ideas… maybe I can run them by you tomorrow." She collapses her shoulders a bit, now smiling toward Flint. "Thank you, Flint… I'm sure you won't let me down." Now she releases a slow breath, drawing herself up to her feet. "With that though… I should get some sleep… sounds as if I am going to have a busy day tomorrow."

Victor shakes his head at Flint's suggestion, "Oh hell no. You get the mead. Khournas can take care of the beer and the booze, man." He grunts at the mention of the whole naked bathing thing, "I don't know about you crazy-ass people," It's said with a grin, "But we just like to soak without clothes, and it's easier to have one place to soak." Two fingers point over at Devon, "This one likes her bubble baths though. I think she's just scared of going down there again." As Devon excuses herself, he nods as well, "And I should finish up the patrol plans, then get my ass to bed while Dee's still awake enough to re-do the bandages."

"Alright, alright. I won't handle your frilly beer and booze drinks." Flint utters lightly, amused. The comment about being crazy just gets a pleased grin, which then turns into a more fond look for Devon. "Give your uncle a hug before you go pass out. I should probably get going myself since everyone is passing out."

"Tomorrow," Bethe nods to Devon, standing as well. "And take care, Vic." She reaches up to tighten her ponytail, looking toward Flint. "I'll push you back, if you want," she offers with a flicker of a smile, moving toward his chair. "Although, the nice thing about the chair is, it doesn't really matter if you want or not."

"If you insist," Devon says lightly as she steps up to Flint, leaning down to embrace the man with a genuine warmth. She closes her eyes a moment, breathing out a soft sigh before she straightens once more. Her smile remains in place. She glances toward Victor now, nodding her head to move him along. "Come on… I'll get you in some clean bandages." She starts toward their rooms, moving at a steady pace with her tablet in hand. "Night," she says over her shoulder to the others as she slips away.

Victor ducks into the Drawing Room to gather up his working material, then slips back through the Greatroom, "Night 'Bethe. Good to meetcha, Flint." And then he's gone as well.

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