lucetilogs | The first step is the one you believe in

Who: Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, and everyone who has gathered there today.
What: A wedding and reception
When: Sept 14, All Day
Where: Cherry Blossom Hill / The Battle Dome
Summary: Pepper and Tony are getting married ~~finally~~ ~~officially~~ finally.
Rating: PG/PG-13 max? There's at least one kid here.
The decorations on the hill are simple ones; they've chosen this spot because it's naturally beautiful without the need for embellishments. Chairs have been set up for the expected guests, with a clear path laid out for the wedding party. And of course up front there is a place for those people to stand, in sight of everyone gathered so Tony won't be able to tell Pepper "I told you so" as color commentary won't be necessary.

After the ceremony everyone will be invited to go to the Battle Dome for the reception. There Tony's programmed an expansive hall with tables and seating enough for everyone. There's also a dance floor, which everyone is encouraged to take advantage of. The atmosphere is warm and vibrant, clearly intended to help all in attendance have a good time. Dinner will be served, and there's an open bar, with rum by request of the officiant.

Just don't get too rowdy, okay kids?

{{ooc: Visual references and details can be found here. Link is very image heavy. There will be separate threads for before the ceremony, during, and the reception.

EDIT: Now with a sign up to catch the bouquet!}}

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She grins and nudges him back. Actually, she didn't mean to imply that, true as it is, so she's blushing while trying to play around with Jack.]

I am! It's the first one I've ever been to. Are they usually so... color-coordinated?

Oh, yeah. The big formal ones, at least.

[As long as they're talking, Jack turns them toward the bar, offering his elbow to walk her over.]

And there's usually some sort of religious or civic official leading it, not . . . you know, all of that. But I suppose Luceti is a little short on formal authorities everyone doesn't despise.

Huh... interesting. [Elizabeth ponders more of the decor, taking Jack's arm and moving towards the bar with him. Given the available resources, it's probably quite a feat that the wedding matches as well as it does.]

That man wasn't a formal authority? [She frowns and raises an eyebrow. Yes the verbage was a little... creative, to put it lightly, but she'd thought it had been charming. A welcome change from the type of religious officiating she was used to.]

...does it count, then? If he isn't 'formal'?

Oh, no! It absolutely counts.

[It's a thing Jack has thought about more than a little, even before arriving in Luceti, and his response is immediate and earnest. Even then, he's deliberate in constructing it, pace careful as he places every word just so.]

I mean, we don't really have laws here, right? Being married or not isn't going to change your taxes, or your citizenship, or what you can do with money that doesn't even exist. So all it really comes down to . . . is what you're promising to each other.

Wait-- your taxes or your citizenship or your money? [Elizabeth arches an eyebrow at Jack even harder now. Wow, she hadn't thought marriage was all that complicated. After talking to Jack about what she had been taught about sex, Elizabeth realized that marriage was probably also not solely for the purpose of procreation, or just giving a woman something to do, even. But all of that taxes-citizenship-money stuff sounded positively boring. What on earth did all of that have to do with who you fell in love with? It sounded more like a political marriage.]

But what if you've already promised to always love someone? [Just... hypothetically.] Would a marriage here just be redundant, then...?

[Jack nods, though he doesn't push to elaborate at the moment. None of it matters in Luceti anyway, and besides, the practical legal benefits of marriage are a conversation all on their own.

What she brings up instead is something much, much more relevant to their current situation, and as he reaches the drink table he reaches out to mix them up a pair of somethings involving gin and grapefruit juice, the work giving him a moment to think, eyes downcast and voice just a shade softer.]

Well . . . apparently, you don't remember anything of your time here when you go back to your world. That's what I've heard, at least. So no, it's not redundant, I don't think. It's spending the time you have here in a way that makes you happy, even if it won't be forever.

[He doesn't bring up that the arrangement always leaves someone behind, someone who knows they've been forgotten entirely, who can do nothing but miss and pine and wait for the hurt to subside. It's still worth it, he believes, with every fibre of his being. Trying for something better, something good, is always worth it.]

I'm not going back to my world. [Elizabeth says it bluntly and firmly, there's no room for argument in her voice.]

[She leans on the bar with both hands and stares into it.] If I go back... I won't exist anymore. It's like when you pull on one end of yarn in a sweater, it all comes unraveled. That's what I do, if I go back. I pull on that yarn until I've unraveled myself.

So I can't go back.

[One of the worst things about Luceti is not knowing how much of statements like that are more-or-less literal truth and how much of them are metaphor. It makes responding difficult, as all jack is left with is the tone of her voice, the look in her eyes as she explains where she is from. But however literal or figurative the undoing, she speaks of it as sternly as he's ever heard anyone speak of a death, and slides her drink in front of her wordlessly and waits until she finishes to reply.]

. . . tell you what. [He smiles, just barely, leaning in from her peripheral vision.] If we ever have the chance to escape, and I find a really stellar world with a big, brilliant Paris, I'll point you that way. All right?

[Elizabeth pulls the drink towards her, just holding it for a moment while she falls back into a whirlwind of 'what ifs' and 'wills' and 'woulds'. Sometimes, she was glad she knew that this was her world for the time being. Other times, she wished Robert had never told her.]

[Her eyes are shining over when Jack speaks again, on the verge of tears if not crying. His smile is more or less the only thing that keeps them from falling. And the mention of Paris, well, it was like Jack had offered her the life she wanted now. Elizabeth leaps at Jack for a hug.]

All right.

[Jack manages to catch her in something that is more support than imbrace, a moment of startled uncertainty softening into understanding as she clings to him, as if he has to power to hold her back from returning to a world where she's doomed. It's a power he can only dream of having, even if he'd never be able to use it for his own benefit.

Carefully, he rubs at her back, murmuring after a few moments.]

Do you want to go outside, maybe? Get a bit of fresh air?

Yes, please. [Elizabeth sniffs and tries to keep her back towards where Gai is sitting.] If he thinks you've made me cry for a bad reason, he'll come over here and try to valiantly straighten you out. [She manages a little laugh and picks up her drink.]

Oh, God. Not the face. I bruise easily.

[He laughs softly, arm around Elizabeth's shoulders as he leads her to the door, and from there out of the battle dome entirely. He feels terrible, having stumbled upon a truth like that, and though he's pretty sure he said the right thing just now, he doesn't like making his friends erupt in tears, especially not in the middle of parties.]

[Elizabeth gets a laugh out, but she's glad they're heading outside. She needs the air, she feels too warm.]

[Even for the end of summer, it's still cooler outside. Elizabeth takes a deep breath, blows it out, fans her face, has a very modest swig of her drink. No crying, it's a wedding, no crying.]

I'm sorry Jack, it was just a... very nice thing to say.

Don't be sorry. Sometimes a thing just hits you the wrong way, right?

[Still and side-by-side in the evening air, Jack goes back to rubbing a hand idly across her back, the same sort of light, unceasing touch that's always seemed to settle Eugene when the nights stretch a little too long.]

I think a lot of people here have mixed feelings about going home.

The first step is the one you believe in

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