Bell Chimes & Moon Rabbits [Wedding]

Please Be Seated
The wedding will begin shortly.

A R Y T H M E T I K

The news spread as surely as the promise of Spring, whispering in the patches of melted snow, rustling with the pure, white petals of the snowdrops blooming across Melrose. Diptheria was cured. And before concerns festered amongst the populace, before protesters would gather in Rionna’s courtyard and life would tumble into chaos…for a few, sweet days, Rionnach was brimming with hope.


It was in this hour of optimism and jubilance that Arythmetik and Grigori Hardin would be married.


The sun was pale and golden, hanging high in the sky. Its warmth caressed the professor’s russet fur, which was blazing auburn and tan, the color of red earth and speckled owl feathers. He was stark against the late winter backdrop: a thin dusting of snow was melting against bright green spring grass. A familiar road weaved through the verdant hills of Melrose, curving past a gigantic oak tree. Its branches were alive with buds, grasping for the slightest hint of raising temperatures. It symbolized both the lasting strength of their relationship with its sturdy, ancient trunk, and fresh starts with its peeking leaves. It was also the place where Aryth and Grigori first met.


The open space beside the oak was bursting with color. Bunches of dried lavender lined a path and created a purple circle around the base of the tree. The aroma permeated the crisp air, not completely overpowering the scent of herb-spiced meat resting in the snow some yards away. Sundstol was commissioned to hunt a veritable feast for the guests to enjoy after the ceremony. Bands of lavender and small, purple flowers also waited against the dewy oak. Arythmetik walked toward them now, nothing but young grass beneath his paws—the path for the grooms since cleared of snow. He breathed in the blissful scents, drawing deep from memory, from love.


This was a day they’d been waiting for all their lives. And now, he simply needed to wait for his loved ones.

code by claerie


ooc. @Grigori @Nimue @Kylar @Willow @Nephele @Mercury @Sundstol @Cyrill & whoever else wants to show up! <3

Please feel free to keep posts short! Everyone can party after the ceremony. <3

Grigori couldn’t have imagined it was possible to simultaneously feel so amazing… and so awful. The anticipation has made sleep all but impossible. When he first saw his reflection when taking a morning drink, he was sure he could convince someone he’s just risen from the dead. Thankfully, Aryth had no opportunity to witness his sorry state – they haven’t seen each other since the final preparations have started, a custom that the cowboy had insisted on upholding. It made the entire thing more… magical. That it protected his dignity at this moment, was just a fortunate coincidence. He couldn’t tell how much time he spent grooming his fur, it seemed like an eternity yet the sun’s journey across the sky was so dreadfully slow. Should he try to be elegant? It might be a futile endeavor. But surely being merely trim wasn’t sufficient for the ocassion..? Ah, he couldn’t even muster a cohesive thought for or against, he’ll just have to keep doing this until his tongue gets numb.

With that task finished, and a quick mint chewing break after, the blonde brute finally set out to the wedding destination. Then, he promptly returned, cursing himself under his breath for being such a sleep-deprived scatterbrain. Finally, he set out once more, this time holding a cloth-wrapped package with his teeth. Obtaining and keeping this mysterious object a secret has been as much effort as all the other preparations combined, but he was optimistic that it’ll be well worth it in the end.

For nostalgia’s sake, he took a slight detour, walking the same path towards the old tree that he had walked that fateful day, so many seasons ago. Ah, he was such a mess back then. Desperate for a fresh start, yet deeply convinced he didn’t deserve one. But then he entertained a kind and handsome local with descriptions of scorpions and their crunchiness. The rest, as they say, is history.

The decorations were every bit as wonderful as he imagined, but they held his attention only for a fleeting moment. Aryth was already there, with fur like a comforting, gentle fire, and a background of purple that invoked a memory that made Grigori’s heart flutter. He stood in silence, committing the scene to memory. If, from this day on, he could somehow dream of nothing but this every night, it would be a blessing. But he could only afford to stare for so long. He tried to mumble through the cloth he held ‘shoot, I’m too early ain’t I?’ as he trotted the remaining distance between him and his about-to-be husband.

He set down the package, took a deep breath… and before he could even say anything, he was already sporting a giddy, if a bit nervous, grin. Up close, Aryth was nothing short of magical. Attraction for his lover should hardly be anything unusual by now, yet the scholar somehow surprised him every day – and special days like this one only made it that much more evident. „Yer so- wow, and everythin’ here! It’s all- it’s.. speechless. No, that’s me- I’m shuttin’ up.” Grigori chuckled, shaking his head. So much for giving Aryth a memorable wedding first impression. „Well then, perhaps ye’d like to examine my gift for ye while we wait for the guests… mister Hardin?”

„*”

It isn't as if he simply appears, or anything. Maybe it's the soft rustling of wind that precedes it, or something else that hides the sound. Whatever it may have been, his shape forms somewhere in the shadows of the outskirts. Perhaps it is his stark, dark outline against the burst of colors, but he eventually rises and slips forward to present his gift, left neatly and tucked amongst the dried lavender, nestled in a bed of fresh grass and wrapped in fragrant petals of some late-blooming winter flower. Tucked within the resin-stuck petals is something strange--well, perhaps strange to most, but not to him. And hopefully, not to Aryth.

A stone of blackest pitch, and a brush. Simple though it was, soft fluffy fox hairs wound tightly around a polished branch of redwood, affixed with resin. And all of it, set atop a leatherbound tome who's cover had long since been worn away with age, the leather itself having lost all color and identification. The pages within--yellowed from age, some brittle, frayed and dog-eared edges-- had long ago had the ink stripped from them, leaving only the faintest traces of words that had once been. Blank. Waiting to be filled.
An inkstone, a brush, and pages to fill-- it is the only gift he can think of that would serve it's purpose-- to record things otherwise lost to time and memory.

A

s soon as she and her lovely date arrived at the selected venue, Willow felt sentimental. It was not every day that she was invited to weddings. Especially weddings where she knew both of the wolves getting married! It was true, as a child, she had found both grooms to be charming, attractive, and just plain dreamy. The wolf’s childhood felt distant now, but the thought brought a grin to her muzzle. And as she caught sight of the two dapper grooms where they waited, she knew she had been right as a kid: they looked beautiful! Especially together.

Willow walked slowly, a small white flower tucked into the fur behind her ears. She sighed, trying to absorb all the magic and good feelings that were the hallmark of weddings, or so she imagined. At her side was Gallagher, to whom Willow looked to excitedly. ”It’s lovely!” Her voice was very quiet, not wanting to garner any attention. ”And, well, thank you for agreeing to come with me, Galla.” Her giant smile was insuppressible, grass-green eyes alight.

Her head turned again to look at Arythmetik and Grigori. Willow could remember the way the two lads had looked at each other during that lesson at the College way back when… Willow couldn’t forget something like that! It seemed like fate itself had brought the two together, a perfect pair. It was simply meant to be. And she was honored to be there to witness their union.

@Arythmetik @Grigori @Gallagher @Mercury @Nephele @Kylar

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

RUBY RIVER
GLOWING IN
THE SUN

Preparing a feast for a wedding party was no small matter and Sundstol was certainly honored that this request was asked of him. The moment he was invited to do so, he went to work planning since he intended to do more than prepare the finest meal for the grooms and their attendees. He'd even had enough saved up to employ some assistance from the town, since he too was invited to the ceremony. It would have been very difficult to continue to prep the food for the reception and also enjoy witnessing the union of Aryth and Grigori. He certainly would not have missed it for the world...being a hopeless romantic himself.

This was also going to be the first event that himself and Cyrill would be presenting as a couple rather than close friends. His heart fluttered at the thought and he wanted to ensure he looked as dapper as he could next to his ever radiant companion. Upon arrival, the venue took his breath away and he glanced at Cyrill a few times with a cheeky smile as they made their way to the area that they could present their gifts. He gingerly placed a rolled up pelt from the beast he'd hunted for their meal. It was tanned and treated to preserve it for many years as either decor in their home or for their bed to keep them warm during the colder months. “Alright, let's go and get settled." He gave Cyrill a nuzzle against his cheek with a swift lick, unafraid to show his affections in this particular public setting.

@Cyrill

Wash me over,
Show me where you run...

Roll me deeper in your tide,
Take my spirit, take my mind,
Take me over to that other side...

code by claerie ~ art by ashon

N

imue worried her head over every detail prior to today, where everything came together perfectly as she had poured all of her energy into manifesting. These particular grooms deserved nothing less than that and she set her intention that it would be so. A small group of guests that they had invited had now gathered and slowly began to seat themselves. “Come now, you two. It's time." Nimue brushed herself between Aryth and Grigori, gesturing to them to follow her to an area framed by the lavender and spring foliage that was to be the centerpiece for their union. Once her paws landed upon the gentle grasses she turned gracefully and awaited their presence as they stood before her. She lifted her head, deep blue orbs moving across the faces of those in the audience.

“Greetings, friends, or more appropriately, found family! I would like to express my most humble gratitude for your attendance today as we witness a sacred bond affirmed between Arythmetik and Grigori. These two most beautiful souls recognized one another as ‘home’ and begin the next chapter in their journey today unified as one."

Nimue then turned to the couple, joy radiating in her eyes as she addressed the two men. As she spoke, there was a far off look in her features as she described to them what their unity meant. “You will remember today so fondly. This moment will be one where time stands completely still. You will remember the way your beloved appeared before you, the sparkle of tears of happiness gathering at the corners of his eyes, the finer details of his fur as it shapes his frame, the glow about his face as he smiles, and they smile...it will be one you do not ever forget. I'd like to share with you a passage from one of my favorite quotes by Louis de Bernières that I found was appropriate for this special day:

‘Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision.

You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.

Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love, which any fool can do.

Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and, when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.'

Nim did her very best not to shed a tear, though she did have to lift a paw to rid herself of a single drop. She had to chuckle at herself, knowing full well that she was as hopeless a romantic as they came. She then looked between Aryth and Grigori with a warm smile. “Alright, now...I am assuming that you two have prepared personal vows for one another?"

@Arythmetik @Grigori

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

A R Y T H M E T I K

Arythmetik stood beside his soon-to-be-husband as their guests arrived, coloring Melrose with the beautiful variety of friends from all walks of life. Mercury—the intellectual from a foreign land—whose ideals once seemed alien to the humble professor as well; now, he was a fast friend, and nothing about that gruesome face frightened Aryth. Willow followed shortly afterward with her friend Gallagher, bringing a smile to the professor’s earthen face. She was one of his first and most loyal students; part of him couldn’t believe that she was all grown up. Finally, Sundstol and Cyrill, Grigori’s friends and companions in the ventures of cooking, embraced with encouraging affection. Aryth would be sure to thank Sundstol again for hunting a fabulous feast for all those gathered to enjoy. As he watched them all choose their seats, Aryth smiled keenly, leaning in close to whisper to his love. “I’d rather exchange gifts privately if you don’t mind, Mister Hardin.” He glanced up at Grigori, stomach fluttering at the mention of his new surname. There was a spunkiness to his tone, like he was sharing a secret only his lover knew—and, well, perhaps that was spot on. Grigori was the only man he’d ever been with, the only wolf who’d ever seen him flirt, the only one to glimpse past the guard of propriety. He was the only man who ever would.


Grigori looking “mighty handsome” (as the cowboy might say) was part of the reason the scholar was feeling amorous. The sassenach’s blond fur glowed from the reflection of the snow. And those eyes, like the misty mountains of Tir Na Nog themselves, were clearer and stronger and more piercing than ever. It was obvious he’d groomed himself for the occasion and it was acutely appreciated. As for his own appearance, Arythmetik tried to put forth the best representation of himself. His tan and russet pelt, usually drenched in the scent of pine from scattered needles, was smoothed and combed clean. The soft fabric of a scarf he once wore on Samhain was draped over his shoulders; its deep, forest green hue complemented the emerald in his eyes and contrasted the reds of his coat starkly. Finally, the faintly dented, golden rims of a pair of round glasses rested against his muzzle. He only pulled them out for special occasions. If there was a more important date than this, Professor Arythmetik couldn’t conceive of it.


The scholar’s warm smile widened as Nimue—his best friend, his Lady of the Lake—glided down the aisle. With all the glory and grace of an ocean Queen, she led them to the base of the tree and faced the pair. Now Aryth’s heart started pounding. This is real. It’s really happening. He turned to Grigori, and even though he loved everyone in the crowd, they all faded away at that moment. It was just him, his guardian cowboy, and Nimue’s sublime words. Tears shimmered in the corners of Arythmetik’s eyes already. Her sentiments, the quote she chose…it was all perfect, and more apt a way to describe the love in his heart than anything he could devise.


But he was a poet, after all. He should at least try. With an honest, beaming face and a gentle, nervous laugh, Arythmetik began. “What’s there left to say that hasn’t been said, mo chridhe…? You’re everything to me. Your smile in the morning, and the way you pretend to be fine with light breakfasts. The way you chew when you get nervous. The way your laughter rumbles in my chest when we embrace.” Aryth glanced down thoughtfully, lost for a moment in memory. Tears were streaming through his russet fur when he glanced back up to meet Grigori’s gaze. “All of you, your strengths and imperfections, if you can even call them that… You’re my life. I…wouldn’t be alive without you.”


There was a moment wherein the professor composed himself. The beat of two hearts becoming one. He chuckled again and continued softly, “Nearly three years ago, I performed a poem at a Winter Ball.


‘To the glassy waters, 'ere I looked
At a reflection strange, and I mistook
The face that stared back from that babbling brook
Twas a wolf I'd read about in a book.


Not a hero, not a sage,
Though I remember from every page
A wistful ignorance, in this turbulent new age,
Of the heart he locked up in a cage.’


When I wrote that, I thought it was about this country. But it was about you. You, Grigori Hardin, are the ‘love he didn't see, crashing against the shores of the Glass Beach, blossoming in Perth, whispering in Aberdeen and bellowing from Tir Na Nog in its twilight sheen.’ You are the wonder and beauty that enriches me, you are the comfort and heart I didn’t dream possible. You are my home.”


It took everything within him not to lunge forward into an embrace. Aryth’s voice was crackling like a fire, like one hundred burning embers, as he said, “That night, after the Ball, was when we first kissed. And the cage inside me opened to the possibility of a future. Grigori, mo chridhe, I love you, and I hope we continue to share poems and stories about moon rabbits and kisses for the rest of our lives.”

code by claerie

@Grigori @Nimue @Willow @Mercury & whoever still wants to join can show up! @Kylar @Summit @Baelfire or anyone from the College are still welcome too :) No posting order! <3

A wedding! The air seemed tinged with the hint of spring, flowers threatening to cling to every little bit of space they could. He smiled so warmly, one eye squeezing shut as Sund's tongue swept across his cheek. He somehow had a way of putting him in a good mood, and he leaned lightly into his shoulder as they approached and sat, just in time to hear the vows. He somehow managed to keep his composure-- there was something uncomfortable roiling underneath it all. No, not the happiness. That was real, and practically permeated the very soil. The warm delight, the beauty of it all. No, that was real and wonderful.

But something else. ....Just barely there.
Oh well. For now, he would ignore it. This was a joyous day, a day for celebration and to write new beginnings and happy endings.

Of course, waiting with the gifts for a private moment was more than reasonable - maybe he's gotten a bit too eager. Yet there was something about the way Aryth has suggested it that made his tongue even more useless than before, the cowboy could only smile dumbly and nod in agreement. After he set the gift aside, Grigori made sure to make note of the guests before the russet scholar steals his attention in its entirety once more; he was relieved to see many familiar faces. Though most of them were undoubtedly here more for Aryth than they were to him, it still was a good thing that he wasn't a complete stranger to them. Though there was one particularly.. odd guest that Grigori has never seen before.

Before he could think too much of it, Nimue has materialized as suddenly as if she somehow could emerge from the very earth, urging them to get the event start. Well, how could he say no to that? It was difficult to process the fact that it was actually, finally happening as they approached the old tree. To think that, impossibly, wolves all over Rionnach were carrying on with their daily lives... it's as if, just for this moment, they were in a different world entirely. A world moving to the deafening drum of his heartbeat. And, in the midst of it all, he couldn't stop thinking about how strangely aware of his whiskers he was feeling.

Though he never knew what to expect with Nimue, he had to admit that she rose to this task splendidly. It was a touching speech, one that has doubtlessly taken a great deal of effort to prepare. Grigori made sure to pay full attention, and only turned to face Aryth fully when she was done.. the wait was worth it. The russet male was even more breathtaking than he'd been moments earlier: the way the sun's reflection danced on the rims of his glasses, sneaking past the branches of the tree that towered above them, and the emotions welling up in his brilliant eyes... Grigori had no idea what he was going to say anymore. Thankfully, his lover went first.

When Aryth mentioned various little things from their daily life, he couldn't help but smile. When Aryth recited the familiar poem, he was dazzled. He could still remember that day he stood in the crowd, watching the scholar perform from afar.. This time, they both were the stage, and he was the only audience. It was a different experience entirely. And when Aryth explained the thought and emotion behind it, he blinked repeatedly, holding back the tears. Truly, he was blessed to be loved so - and not just by anyone, but by this kind, smart and wonderful wolf.

"I don't have a way with words, I'm no poet and I can't quote any, so I'll try to keep this short." he started, smiling hesitantly. He couldn't match Aryth's speech, probably no wolf in Rionnah could... but this wasn't a competition. Feelings expressed so finely might be more palpable, but that isn't their measure. "When I thought I'd drift forever, ye gave me a home. When I only had guilt, ye showed me what to be proud of. Ye brought me peace, happiness, a future.. Ye saw the best in me, and that - perhaps only that - made it real." Grigori's voice wavered, forcing him to pause for a few seconds to steady himself. "Ye might say I don't owe ye anythin', that my love for ye is enough - but lovin' ye is as easy and natural as breathin'. So I promise ye this: I wouldn't die for ye." It certainly wasn't the classic statement everyone might expect, but there was good reason for it. "I'll protect ye with every ounce of strength I have, and I'll fight to live just as desperately. I recklessly danced with death many times... but no more. Because even a single day more with ye, even a single evening where I come back from a late patrol and find ye asleep with yer nose in a book, is worth givin' my all for. The rest of our lives... it can never be too long."

„*”