what is love? [OPEN/CLOSED]

[circumitus]

Who: Rey and Maketh Tua + Nick Valentine and OPEN prompts to anyone who wants in on that small town wedding business.
What: An actual firefighter wedding turns into more of a shotgun wedding and not quite like how those movies usually end.
Where: The Park + Church.
When: The last day of Stepford Summer.

[ooc: Prompts will be in individual comments below. Some details of the plot are here and here, but feel free to contact me if you have any questions!

[Otherwise, feel free to assume that your character has received a wedding invitation and they're there... or square.]

Comments

[mismanagement]

Maketh abandons the doorway to stand next to Rey. It's important to do this properly, and to commit fully.

Deliberately, she takes Rey's hand in hers.

"Someone will be married, yes."

[tongueamok]

"Oh."

That initial response is immediate, said in an oh, that's nice sort of fashion rather than one of comprehension. It's a second later as Carlisle's eyes trail down to their entwined hands that he realizes just what that favor they need is, and who he's doing it for.

"Oh. Oh, th- that's what- ah." The clergyman tugs at his collar nervously, his gaze flicking back to the ladies before him, meeting their faces with polite trepidation. "I- I suppose I could accommodate you in the morning, if you'd like to, ah. Come back and make an appointment for a proper ceremony."

[circumitus]

Rey's shoulders jump when Maketh takes her hand; an instinctive reaction when her heart skips at the unexpected but pleasant feeling. It helps, emboldening her to do what she wants to do.

She shakes her head at Carlisle's last comment. "No, don't want a 'proper' ceremony. Want this done -- just us."

Now.

"Sorry if this is short notice."

[mismanagement]

"Marry us," Maketh says softly. She could give it as an order, but that wouldn't be right. And she wants to do this part right. "Please."

[tongueamok]

Carlisle's eyes go from Rey to Maketh, and back again.

"Er... right. Well." He wrings his hands together, his lips pulled into an apprehensive grin. "I suppose I could, ah. Get the papers ready tomorrow." Emphasis on that last word. He slides away from them toward his desk, rifling through the cabinet beside it until he finds what he's looking for: a leather-bound journal, the parchment inside yellowed, but as official as he is.

"See, I'll have to write the documents, and then you both sign them, and then I sign them, and then it's done. We would like to do this, er... as properly as possible, of course."

He says that, fully realizing that these ladies broke into his office after presumably calling off Rey's wedding, considering that Officer Tua is most certainly not the fellow he was sure she was marrying.

[circumitus]

Emboldened by Maketh's hand in hers, as well as the other woman's presence there for her at all, Rey just nods, but doesn't move.

"Fine. I've got nowhere to be."

Meaning that she doesn't intend to be anywhere else than here until this gets done.

The thought of going back out there again, of possibly facing wedding spectators and even Sully himself is enough to make Rey's stomach turn. She doesn't want to hear the excuses, the demands for answers like they think they're owed. If not for Maketh, Rey would have been long gone from a wedding with a man she didn't at all love. She doesn't owe them anything, but to Maketh she owes everything.

This is something she wants. Get it done. Quick and efficient. They don't need an audience; everything they need is already here.

[mismanagement]

Except for Rey's hand in hers, the whole thing almost feels anticlimactic. It comes down to paperwork, of all things, and Maketh fights back laughter. Paperwork. Of course.

"We will wait," she agrees softly, covering her smile with her free hand.

[tongueamok]

They insist they'll wait; they end up doing that for at least another several seconds as Carlisle inwardly hems and haws over what to do. It really isn't proper wedding protocol for two people to break into the church in the dead of the night -- one of whom was supposed to be married to someone completely different that day -- and demand he write a marriage license right there and then.

And yet, here they are, Rey and Maketh standing hand-in-hand, awaiting the aforementioned license. Carlisle clears his throat, as though that might make them reconsider somehow, and when it clearly doesn't, he eases uncomfortably into his chair and draws his pen, flipping to an empty page.

"Right. Guess I'll, ah. Get started."

And so he does. It's going to take him a while, given it's a rather lengthy document, but when all is said and done, they'll be wed, no matter what anyone else may think.

"Are 'Rey" and 'Maketh Tua' your legal names?" he asks as he gets to the blanks he's drawn. He continues scrawling hastily, not realizing that he's written goddess and Clarity rather than the name of the deity the gods have created for this illusionary world.

[circumitus]

To some degree, it seems fitting for things to end this way. There's no dramatic ceremony, no flowers or prettied speeches. It isn't even the way Rey imagined her wedding would be...

Not that Rey thought she'd ever get married. Strange, that, all things considered. It was a feeling she had been warring with all week, but now it seems right. Coming together.

She squeezes Maketh's hand as Carlisle gets to work, and decides to leave the priest without any unnecessary distractions. She takes a seat, and gestures for Maketh to do the same. A small smile creases her face as she thinks about how funny this all is, she almost doesn't hear Carlisle's question.

"Oh, um. Yes. Just 'Rey'."

More strangeness. Her mother and father had last names, didn't they? Shouldn't it be Valentine? Or Stransky?

Never mind.