open | 'til death do us part

[coquettish_trees]

WHO: Loki, Lexie, and everyone whose situational cost-benefit analyses came up benefit somehow (or got ignored)
WHAT: the dubiously legitimate wedding of Lord Loki of House Asgard and Lady Alexandrie de la Fontaine and some totally unpredictable fallout
WHEN: Pre Elf Times
WHERE: Hightown
NOTES: Questions? Find us! (Loki: hikuswing, Lexie: shaestorms)

Post-fight part of the log in a couple of days! ♥

Comments

SORRY work is trying to eat me alive ;;

[chainlightning]

Loki is not given a withering look - partially because Merrill is terrible at them, and partially because, at the end of the day, Merrill is doing this for her friend. She does raise an eyebrow at him, though; just enough to, she hopes, let him know that she doesn't appreciate his jump to stereotypes.

"Well, I don't know how human countries do it, but the Dalish don't strip naked or dance over corpses. We try to keep our bonding ceremonies away from corpses, as a matter of fact; this is actually probably the closest." The last bit is said thoughtfully, Merrill almost getting lost in the thought.

"We can skip over the bit about Loki having to prove he's a worthwhile match," she tells Alexandria, alluding to a conversation months ago with her and Wysteria. "As long as you have vows, I think it'll actually all be very similar!"

Man ain't that just a mood.

[hwaaaitsme]

"Vows we have," Loki assures her and, despite the reprimand from his nearly wife--they would be wed even if it was over these assassins' dead bodies--and the sidelong eyebrow from the elf girl, he seems not entirely put out by the change of plans. He is a bit relieved he doesn't need to strip down but he would have, had he been given no choice.

"Though I expect I should probably omit the religious section if we're to change the ceremony on whole." He looks at Alexandrie, then, and all her determination is visible in her stance.

"Shall we take this outside, my dear?"

we're all fashionably late

[coquettish_trees]

Alexandrie breathes, straightens, and then moves to take Loki's arm with every iota of gentility she can muster, managing a veneer of calm certitude that implies everything is entirely under control despite her own nervous adrenaline, the evidence of generalized chaos still remaining in the room, and the abrupt trade of Priest for Dalish Keeper. She pitches her voice to the room.

"Let us make sure our guests are seen to—and our 'guests' secured—and then... we shall."



[ooc: timeskip to outside though? :3 She's just doing image control inasmuch as that's... even... possible.]