hadriel_logs | what is love? [OPEN/CLOSED]

Orange and reds adorn the nature scene. Scents of smoke and burnt wood mix with dirt and plantlife around the park summon a small crowd of people. Some faces recognizable, others Rey have never seen before in her life, yet seem oddly familiar. She just can't place where she's met them before. Holiday dinners? Vacation? That's silly; they've never even left town before, have they?

Rey tries not to think about it. Once she's been fitted into the flowing, ornate dress that fades into a fiery pattern, it's almost like the deal has been sealed. But it's been that way for a long time, hasn't it? It has since the moment she said 'yes', since she allowed this whole farce to continue, for not stopping it sooner.

Her gut churns at the thought of it being what it is. A farce.

Marcus Sullivan is late when he eventually gets there, but shortly after remains to be unseen. Some sad, desperate part of her had hoped that he wouldn't come at all. That this wouldn't be put on her. The orange, red, and yellow flowers have all been arranged, the tables and decorations set, and people have begun taking chairs where they have already been arranged or freely seated. They're already here. She can't just change her mind now, can she?

"Your dress is beautiful" some have told her.

"Must be nice, marrying a captain" outsiders have said, ignorant to the fact that Rey herself might be a lower ranking officer, and not just the fiancée of one. They can't know that, she tells herself as she tries to smile and dismiss their comments, just wanting them to leave her alone.

And they do. She seeks refuge in a covered park gazebo, where other women she barely knew had done her getup. She should be happy when she sees herself: Hair done up, dress shining in the light. She feels like she is nearing the curtain call of a movie, and she feels sick.

The invitation tightens in her fingers as she slides into a chair. The women buzzing about the gazebo interior have allowed her a rare moment of solitude, where Rey stares down at the cursive lettering on the card her mother had made for her.

Undine and Nick Valentine
request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their daughter

The card had been made months ago. Her mother was still alive then. Hell, they were still alive when they had been shipped out.

Placing the invitation on her lap, her fingers trace across her mother's name. Her heart aches, longing to be anywhere but here.

It's a big day; it's a rough day.

Nick has a lot on his mind as he looks himself over in the mirror, trying to make himself at least marginally presentable. It's not every day he's at a wedding, and definitely not every day that he gets to give away the bride. He's never really thought much of grand ceremonies and all the hullabaloo that goes on around them, but this isn't his party. It's Rey's, and while he couldn't be happier for her, he's still feeling weighed down by his own regrets. He pulls on the jacket of his tuxedo, then straightens the ring on his left hand.

He does that bit with a sigh. She wanted her to be here so badly. They both did.

But for as much as Undine is on his mind, he knows she's definitely on Rey's. The woman was her real mother, after all, not just a secondhand parent like he is. Still, despite that he and Rey aren't blood relations, they grow closer every day. They were even before Undine's death; hell, even before the marriage, he'd been trying to be some kind of a father for her, someone she could count on. They had to count on each other now; they're all they have.

Well, not for long, not as soon as the wedding is over and everything is made all official. There's something about that finality that has been a real point of contention with Rey lately, especially with the grief over her mother's death. While Nick would rather she turned to him than bury herself in the bottom of a liquor bottle, he can't say he doesn't feel it, too. He's had a lot of long nights just walking the empty streets, remembering the places he used to go with Undine. They'd sit on the front porch and just listen to the night all around them, walk hand-in-hand in the park and talk about the merits of robotics, steal kisses in the streetlights by the riverside.

Another sigh. Even thinking of the good times was hard when they were so heavy with sorrow, with remorse. There was so much he still wanted to say to her, things he's sure she knew, but now she'll never hear. They say time heals all wounds, but he's not sure this one is ever going to get any easier -- not for him, and not for Rey.

He straightens his tie as he spots Rey in the gazebo. Despite the activity buzzing all around them, she's found a moment alone. She looks like she needs it -- he knows that expression she wears, recognizes the invitation in her hands. Maybe it's not just Undine on her mind. That's why he goes over, his thumb rubbing idly at his wedding ring as he stops before her.

"You mind if I join you?" Nick asks quietly.

Edited 2017-07-23 09:48 (UTC)

Her heart lifts as she hears Nick's voice coming from the gazebo entrance. It's a sobering one to hear, after dealing with the many words of congratulations and niceties of strangers and vaguely familiar faces. Which has been... strange, feeling as though she knew these people, and yet were complete strangers at the same time. Even Sully, the man she's supposedly to spend the rest of her life with, seems like a ghost.

But not Nick. Not her father, who her mother had always spoken fondly of since before the day they married as well. Rey has some blurry memories of that day. Of bearing both the flowers and rings her parents exchanged. They had her blessing and, more importantly, her love that day.

Despite the dress dragging her down, Rey is quick to rise to her feet, throwing her arms around Nick's neck when he enters.

"Of course not," she says breathlessly, as if she had been running an emotional marathon -- which, by all counts, she has. She fights the tears in her eyes as she rests her chin over his shoulder. "It's good to see you."

Much as she's been trying to hold herself together all these years, in all this time, she can't help but feel as though she needs Nick now more than ever. To hear his blessing in light of this day.

"It's good to see you, too."

Nick returns that embrace readily, though he's careful where he puts his arms, doing his damnedest to not catch a cufflink on her dress or one of his joints in her hair. He'd hate to ruin all the hard work the ladies put into getting her gussied up for her big day. And yet, he can tell there's something amiss anyway. Maybe it's the old cop instincts, or maybe it's the father in him coming to the forefront, but Nick can tell there's more on her mind than just the wedding and who oughtta be there, but isn't.

He pushes out a sigh, his arms tightening on her as Undine crosses his mind. It's only been a few weeks since she passed; he still expects her to be waiting by the front door for him to come home, but there are times it feels like an eternity since he heard her voice. It's got to be worse for Rey, he's told himself time and time again. As much as he loved her, Undine was her mother. It's up to him to hold it together -- Rey has other things to worry about.

Finally pulling from her, Nick gives Rey a look-over and a smile. "Guess we both clean up nice. I'll be honest in that I wasn't sure this old thing would fit anymore, but I guess it's good for one more day."

Not that a man like him could outgrow a suit, but he figures that tuxedo of his is worth making light of.

Rey does her best to force a smile as Nick pulls back. She's practically gotten this down to an art. All day she has been exchanging smiles and polite words. But it's different when it's Nick. Her father -- or the man she has long since come to call her father, having never had one to call her own before. Despite this, it's been nice. She can't think of a better person suited for the role.

"I'll say." She smirks as she adjusts his tie. If nothing else, she uses it as an effective excuse to avoid eye contact. "Think it's still got a few more runs left."

Or so she hopes. Not sure why. It's not like she plans to have any other big events such as this, but in her line of work, you never know.

Still, it's nice to see Nick spruced up. He could stand to do it more.

Nick knows that smile when he sees it -- the part where she avoids his eyes, too. He lets her fiddle with his tie, fixing it in a way he never quite manages to do with that metal hand of his. It's something her mother used to do for him, too.

He cocks his head to the side, his brow knitting. "Hey," he says quietly, low enough that no one passing by should hear them. "Talk to me, Rey."

Her fingers freeze on the fabric of his tie, having fiddled with it a little longer for the sake of keeping her focus on anything but the present. She's supposed to be happy, isn't she? And yet at the same time, she wants nothing more than to be miles away from this gazebo, from this part. From this reality.

Rey continues staring at that tie, seconds after Nick speaks. She wants to dismiss his concerns -- that's what ever fiber of her instincts are screaming. But she can't lie.

"I... I don't know what I'm doing," she blurts, a distant cloud veiling her expression that should be joyous, and yet remains devoid of it.

A quiet breath escapes Nick, one he didn't need, but took all the same. He could say a lot about not knowing what the hell to do when it comes to getting married -- the ceremony he had with Undine wasn't any big affair, but there was enough paperwork involved that he'd prefer to never go through it again. He's not sure he could, anyway. His heart probably couldn't take the inevitable end.

"I don't think a lot of folks know what they're doing when it comes to all the pomp and circumstance of a wedding, Rey," he says solemnly, placing his bare hand atop hers at his tie. "What's on your mind?"

Somehow, Rey remembers that affair. She was there, and she also wasn't. How does that even make sense...?

"Maybe."

There's more to it than simple cold feet, though. Everyone gets that, or they're supposed to. That's what she's heard, anyway. That giddy sense of anticipation. She should be feeling that, but there's only emptiness at the end of this road.

That fake smile fades away into a somber frown. "This... None of this. It doesn't feel real. Right. I don't--" She stops herself, scratching her forehead. "I don't know. Maybe it's just... Maybe I'm making excuses."

Nick's smile fades with Rey's, his expression lacing with concern as he watches her own features shift with uncertainty. "Maybe," he starts, his hand still atop hers. "Things have been off for a while now for both of us. Everything happened so fast with the wedding, and your mother..."

But even he's felt something is more amiss than that: it's been in the air in town for a week now, hanging over all of them like a coming storm. He dismissed that feeling at first, sure it was just grief still settling into his metal bones; however, the longer it's gone on, the more he can't shake the old instincts telling him that something is wrong.

It's not just vague feelings, either -- from the corner of his eye on his delivery route, he's sure he's seen rundown buildings that ought not be there, only for them to be as good as new when he looks their way. He's struggled with his memory lately, forgetting the faces of people he's supposedly known for years. There was even a day he strayed from his usual path around town and patrolled on the southern end, far from the usual places he goes... and yet, it felt so familiar, like he ought to be there.

He figured he'd deal with all that was bothering him after the wedding, but now that Rey brings it up, he can't help but feel that odd sense of paranoia gnawing at him once again.

"Maybe you are just nervous," he continues, "but I can't say you've ever struck me as the type to let that stop you. I might not be a cop anymore, but I still believe it's important to listen to your gut when it's trying to tell you something."

The mention of her mother sends her heart sinking in her chest. She doesn't hold it against Nick for bringing Undine up; he misses her as well. Though she might've been Rey's mother, he loved the woman all the same, too.

Her lips twitch at what Nick has to say. "That sounds like something you'd say," she jests, but there is some sincerity there as well.

Joking aside, Rey lowers her eyes to their hands. Her fingers squeeze his.

"This is... going to sound weird. But have you ever, um. Loved someone? Other than my mom? Before her, that is."

There's no doubt that Undine was the only woman in his life during their marriage; that isn't what's on her mind when she asks such a thing from him. It's just that there is someone, who seems more real to her than any of this.

It wouldn't be that odd of a question for someone else, someone who wasn't mechanical. Even now, it doesn't strike Nick as odd as it really should, save for the timing, but while he gets that inkling in his mind that there is something off about this whole thing, he can't put a finger on the reason why. He'll blame the wedding for now, the obvious choice; it will only be after he comes to his senses and realizes this idyllic life is just more of the gods' nonsense that he'll remember why it is he feels so apart from most of the people in Hadriel.

"Before her, yeah," he answers; there's a flicker of regret in his eyes that clearly says he doesn't want to talk about it -- not today, of all days. "It was a long time ago, before I met either one of you. Well before I knew your mom was the one for me."

His brow knits again as he squeezes Rey's hand. "Why? What's this all about?"

He shouldn't ask -- his instincts tell him not to, but he goes against them this time, hoping that putting it into words will help Rey sort out what's going on in her head. She's had moments like these for as long as he can remember; whatever is on her mind, he's there for her. They've got to be there for each other now -- Undine would have wanted that, and Nick wouldn't want it any other way, either.

A long time ago. That's what it feels like now, with Sully. Like a distant memory that has long since lost its relevance. Nick is different, though. Nick is real, like Maketh. Rey can reach out and touch him, feel his hand tighten around her own, even if it's synthetic and not at all human. And that's okay; Undine loved him anyway. For who he is.

So why does that also feel like a detached memory? Rey's eyes narrow, and she'd rather not think about it, because that's her mother. The woman who had looked after her since the day she was born. Who had made a union with the man before her to do the same, so long as they lived.

Now one of them is gone, and yet she's still grateful to the one who remains.

Rey bites her lower lip, glancing away from Nick's concerned gaze for the moment.

"I..." She sucks in a breath, ducking her head. "Don't worry about it."

Futile that it might be, for both of them.

Telling Nick don't worry about it is a guaranteed way to get him to do just that, especially when those words are coming from his only family. Maybe it's cold feet, the type folks usually get when they're about to take a step into the deep end that is married life. It's not for everyone, and hell, not all goes well even for folks who think they are as prepared as they can be.

Then again, maybe it's something else. Nick feels in his gut that it is, but he can't place why. Maybe the old instincts are getting rusty, or maybe he's just a sentimental fool who's worried for his daughter on her big day, one where she's surrounded by everyone she loves, save for one notable absence.

Everyone she loves, though... hm. He doesn't like where his mind goes with that tangential thought -- that's definitely the cop in him getting anxious about that rust, for sure.

"Hey."

He puts his metal hand against her chin, tilting her face upward in the hopes she will meet his eyes.

"If there's something really bothering you about all this" — he cocks his head to the side, toward where final preparations are being made for the ceremony — "and you want to call it off for now, it's okay. It's been a hard time for both of us, and you only oughtta go through with this if you're good and ready, and that's if you're ever ready. Whatever the reason is, I'm on your side, Rey. You know that, don't you?"

The irony that someone like Rey would get cold feet isn't lost to her, and not far from her train of thought. And soon as she tries to cast her eyes away out of the shame that wraps around her heart, Nick's pulling her gaze back towards him. She struggles to maintain contact, and to hold herself together. After all, a lot of effort had gone into getting her dolled up like this. The last thing she wants to do is ruin...

No, it isn't the last thing she wants. That's such a stupid thought. Stupid. Pointless. Stop it.

"She... went through so much for this," Rey painfully admits, though a niggling voice on the back of her mind tells her that there's more to it than that. "She did so much for me and I don't even know why. She's not here; I can't ask her why."

Her memories of Sully are so muddy that she can't figure out even the littlest details. When did they meet? Did Undine really like him, or did she even exist...?

Such a mere passing thought makes her chest ache with fear, as she snaps her mouth shut. This is more than just 'cold feet' now, that is certain.

"You don't know why?" Nick asks, puzzled. He gives her a reassuring smile. "Because you're her daughter, Rey. She loved you more than anything else in the world, and no matter how much work she put into this wedding, I can guarantee she'd rather you be happy."

But it does strike him as beyond odd that she'd even say such a thing. Undine was Rey's mother; of course she'd have done anything for her, desite—

... despite what?

Nick's brow tightens just a fraction. Undine was absolutely Rey's mother, no question about it... then why did he question it just then? Why was there even a second of doubt in his mind, as though it'd have been reasonable for Undine to hold something against Rey, but chose not to? It must be something wrong with his processor, Nick insists inwardly, his memories not connecting in his head. Did something happen between Rey and Undine? Or was it between himself and Undine?

There's a flash of a memory he can't place, an image that's there for only an instant -- the riverside, blood in the water, a gunshot that rings in his ears. He'd say it came from a nightmare, but he doesn't sleep; he doesn't dream.

Not that he knows of.

Aware of his moment of distraction, he tightens his grip on Rey's hand, focusing on her to bring himself back to the present.

It should be so obvious, and yet the answers are muddied in her mind. Like everything else, it's been hard to think clearly. Think outside of the scope of her goal. Right now, that goal happens to be at the end of an aisle...

The squeeze of Nick's hand around hers grounds Rey as well, trying to keep herself focused on what is happening now.

"I am happy," Rey says with a strained smile.

Maybe not with the event itself, but it was done out a labor of love. The last thing her mother ever prepared for her. Though Undine passed just weeks before this day, she at least has the closest thing to a father she's ever had to be here with her, and that makes her happy.

Rey says she's happy, but that strained smile of hers says something else entirely, something he can't just blame on prenuptial jitters. She might be happy to have him there, but if he had to guess, she's not happy about much else at the moment.

And that's ultimately worrying. This wedding had a lot of love put into it by Undine in her final days, but Rey is the one who has to go through with it. She's the one who the day is really about -- not Undine. Nick has no doubt her mother would agree... but Rey's never been the type to put herself first. Undine knew it, Nick knows it -- hell, anyone who has seen how hard she works knows it. Even her husband-to-be probably knows.

"If you say so," he replies, giving her hand another squeeze as he gets ready to go. He doesn't release it quite yet.

"I've got to get back and make sure things are going all right with the preparations, but... if you're having second thoughts about all this, you know your mother would come back to haunt us both if you went through with it anyway, just for her sake."

Curufin leaves work, double-checks the invitation to be sure of the time the event is supposed to start, dresses in his best, and hurries to Pleasant Park. He runs his hand through his unruly hair and gives his bow-tie a last tweak before he gets out of the car.

He looks around for Rey, making a fast circuit of the park, and he spots the bride in her finery sitting in the gazebo, gazing at the card in her hand. There is an expression of ineffable longing on her face.

He looks around. He doesn't see any of the bridesmaids, or for that matter, the bridegroom. He has a slightly uneasy feeling, and he doesn't know for sure where it is coming from. But he knows Rey, a longtime firefighter who has his respect, both for her courage and professionalism and on her own account, as a person of integrity. When they were both in high school but before he joined the Army, he had fantasies of being in her profession, but instead he took a completely different career path. He admires her for making the choice that she did and following through with it. He approaches.

"Rey, you're looking very beautiful. But. . . a little soulful. How are you doing?" His voice and his face are warm and sympathetic.

Edited 2017-07-23 10:03 (UTC)

Despite wanting some alone time, there is something inviting about Curufin. Not just because he isn't one of the bridesmaids of bustling wedding planners or attendants around, but he doesn't seem... fake. Like a prop on a movie set. Or something of the like. Just as Nick is, he feels real. Here.

It does call for some interesting questions, such as the nature of Rey herself. Is she here? Who's to say that she is real at all? How can she be certain one way or another?

"Could be worse."

That's... not something you're supposed to say just hours before your wedding, is it?

That question of what is real and who is real is complex enough to puzzle even an Elvish seer. Which Curufin is not. He's just an Elvish craftsman. But he does ask those same questions, and they sometimes baffle him as well. Rey is such a credible person that he feels comfortable asking the important questions in her presence, especially if they concern her.

"Oh. . . I'm sure it could be worse," he answers. "A rock from outer space could come careening down and reduce your gazebo to rubble and the town to a smoking crater!" He smiles. "But things don't have to be that bad to be. . . a little troublesome. Is something troubling you?"

At that, Rey barks out a sound that resembles a laugh. It's harsh, though, devoid of the joy that one should be expressing on such a day.

"Troublesome. Right," she halfheartedly agrees as she runs a hand down her face with a sigh. "I... don't know, though. This just doesn't feel like the way things should be."

Not just the wedding, but reality as a whole.

Oh, that laugh. The sound of trouble.

"What isn't the way it should be?" he asks.

Not that he doesn't have an intimation of unreality himself. He's happy in his life here, for the most part, but he's restless and he keeps having dreams and imaginary conversations with his brother Maglor about the sea. If Rey is having vague intimations that something should be different, he is going to be listening closely. You betcha.

Everything and nothing. Despite playing all the possible answers in her head, not a one comes to mind that's in any way satisfactory. She just brings her hand to her chin, trying not to mess up her appearance before the actual event.

Thing is, Rey should be happy. Weddings are supposed to be joyous events, and she has happy memories of a loving family and a childhood where she is cherished. And yet, for some reason, she can't help but feel melancholy. Not because of the loss of her mother, but because it all feels so far away where happiness is unattainable.

"All of this." The words blurt out before she can think about what they mean, and her mouth tightens into a thin line.

She means it, doesn't she?

She sounds like she means it.

"All of it?" He nods. There is no denial in his tone, only acknowledgement. Yes, weddings should be happy, and yet, Rey is not happy.

There is something in the air. No, even more than that. It is something that is everywhere.

"Have you ever. . . felt as though all of this. . . " He gestures to everything around them, the park, the gazebo, the surrounding town, the green hills into which the town is nestled, the very sky with its dreamy wisps of cirrus cloud. ". . . is not, well, real? As though it were a backdrop curtain on a stage, or a stage set in a movie? And found yourself wondering what would be there if you tore it away, or down?"

what is love? [OPEN/CLOSED]

park: pre-ceremony preparations. [OPEN]

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Park, pre-ceremony

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