Done and Done

[rassafraggin]

Contemporary music has been ongoing since that first rock anthem explosion from the heights above the dais, allowing for spontaneous freestyle dancing in the space marked out for three-dimensional ballroom. The formal Rebman waltzes and classical partnered steps are set for after the reception dinner, at which point the Royal Orchestra at the other end of the great chamber fills the enchanted water with sweeping symphonics. The three gallery levels provide comfortable seating for spectators, and all kinds of buffet service tables line the remaining wall space, with something to suit every appetite.

Miriam hasn't on the whole been a big huggy sort of person, but her wedding party seems to be an exception. She grins, and hugs Raphaela. "Thank you so much! I'm glad y'came."

Raphaela chuckles "Me to miss a Rebman party? NEVER!" she pulls back and accepts a drink from a passing server. She flashes a smile "You have the best ones." under the sea, that is. She has best ones on the top!

Miriam nods to her. "When th'people go all out, it's overwhelming. In th'best way. She's still in her wedding outfit, though the robe's shorter and tied off in places so it's not quite so drifty and in the way.

-[ Maggie ]-
Hair the color of autumn on fire falls in soft, gentle waves about this woman's face and swings in a long, elaborately woven braid down to just above the small of her back. Red blends to auburn to russet and back again, giving the shimmering masses the look of flame. High cheekbones and a narrow chin give her a fey look, the ethereal otherness augmented by eyes the color of midnight ringed emeralds and skin more golden brown than fair. A smattering of freckles dusts her nose and skips playfully across her cheeks, just to lead the eye astray. The otherness is broken when she smiles, for warmth spreads from the upward tilt of her lips and hints at laughter just waiting to brighten the moment.
Maggie wears a form-fitting corset of pale blue scales laced up the front with silvery ties and shorts to match. This leave her slender, well-muscled midriff partly exposed. To complete the ensemble, she wears slippers of pale blue scales with silvery laces that criss-cross up her calves to tie just below the knee, and on her left ring finger is an ornate while-gold wedding band.
Over this she wears a fluttery half-cloak of fine spun, translucent material that wraps her loosely in pale blue. The clasp of the cloak is a filigree broach of tiny diamonds that sparkle faintly in the light as she moves.

-[ Merrisol ]-
My, what slippery silver trunks!
A fellow girding his loins in so much shiny must have complete confidence or at least never look at himself in mirrors... but no reason why it can't be both. Active outdoors and industrious living have granted this large man a deep abiding tan and faded battlescars over his long strong structure. He is within his prime, sea-green eyes bright and attentive, nature bursting with physicality under the waves. Wheat-golden hair ripples upwards in calm waters, like a tongue of fire, medium length from the crown of his head and shorn close at the sides and back. Face blockish and long, with a strong pillar of a nose, the blond has a rugged adventuring hero's good looks.
A proud specimen indeed he proves whilst arrayed in clinging silver lame' swim jammers, from mid-hip to low-thigh, and plenty of ornamentation to satisfy flashy Rebman fashion whilst also baring his broad chest. A white-gold wedding band sits his ring finger. A red band of leather would be seen fitted to his left wrist, partially covering an ocean reef tattoo with rose lace coral branches that dangle over the back of his hand. A tightly-packed series of intricate black scars covers a small patch of skin midway up the same arm. Snug around his biceps are frosted bands of trailing heather fronds, which do not conceal a glowing niche of lava rock is stylized around a curled and sleeping salamander tattoo, located high on his right arm. He wears sandals with ankle-high straps winged with starfish, in a cross between the Hermes look and cowboy spurs.
Yee-haw!

-[ Miriam ]-
She is all stars and moonlight, silvered and bright. Her eyes reflect the full moon, milky as though belonging to one that cannot see. Her long, straight hair looks spun of silver, and shines when it catches the light. Her skin is unnaturally pale, as though she were more spirit than living, and while she has the tone of someone accustomed to constant movement undersea, she is very thin and her features are delicate enough to make her seem easily broken.
Today, she is dressed for a most special occasion, and blends both Sky and Sea. Beneath, a form-fitting corset laced up the front and shorts of pure white leave her midriff partly revealed. Her legs and lower arms are likewise covered in white as though she were wearing thigh-high boots and opera-length gloves, and on her left ringerfinger is a gold ring with a large blue gem, and on her right is a simple band engraved with waves and set with small, very rare blue pearls.
Over this is something more reminiscent of Tir-Na Nog'th. The finespun, translucent material is somewhere between a hooded robe and cloak, wrapping her loosely in silver and slightly obscuring her features as it drifts about the slender woman. It is held closed by a jeweled clasp depicting the Crest of Icedeep - a trident of ice in silver on a blue background - and dotted with small diamonds that pick up the light to sparkle like the starry night. The hood is held in place by a slender silver hair band depicting all the stages of the moon in mother of pearl.

-[ Raphaela ]-
Raphaela is tall for a woman, but she can seem even taller due to her rather thin frame. Her movements are graced with an air of an innate aristocratic elegance that only a combination of birth and upbringing can create. Hair is a colorless limp straightness of silvery blond, longer tongues of it licking below her shoulder blades when free, which is rare. It is matched with a pair of disturbingly pale eyes, haunted with spirits of blue. The unwavering will power behind these controlled smoked mirrors is an eerie mismatch to her otherwise graceful, elegant air.
Her skin has the raw silk golden shimmer to it. It has unsettling effect of offsetting her silverish hair and eyes, but it also adds warmth and accent to movement underwater. Her outfit matches the theme of contrasting metallic colors - without much fabric involved in Rebman outfit, main attraction is hair arrangement. Her hair is longer than Rebma remembers, tresses reaching her waist in floating licks, decorated and weighted down with golden ombre that fades in from her normal silver color to dark old gold, tapering down and adding weight the tips which make the hair move in unorthodox fashion. Hairnet keeps it away from her eyes, decorated with golden flowers that shift from gold to silver as arrangement crawls down her temples and ears to contrast the shimmered skin.
Her outfit is rather simple in comparison, thin chains of silver warping around neck and below chest to make the frame of the top made of loose criss crossing metallic flat metal bands covering, in clusters of ingenous twining and teasing good fortune, the crucial bits while still flowing in water a touch. Her back, entirely bare all the way to the thread low on her hips. Loops on thighs provide the other anchor for twining bands of silver and gold that again cover necessary, reveal a lot more. Toeless wraps secure ankles, fingerless wraps secure wrists, matching the team and decorated with flower design.

Raphaela is with Miriam, stole her away from other lesser people. Bwhahaha. All they need is more drinks and more M's.

Returning from the depths of the palace, Maggie and Merrisol enter the Throne/Party room hand in hand. While Maggie wears her outfit from the Wedding, it is possible that the braid she sports is more elaborate than it was last evening. Her eyes, sparkling with good humor and as a result of some quality time with her One and Only, flash over the returning crowds. Spotting Martin with some functionary or official, she offers him a wave, but does not swoop over to distract her cousin. Instead, she keeps searching until she finde Raphaela with Miriam. Or is that vice-versa? Either way. Indicating the pair with a lift of her chin and a nod, she begins to head in that direction. Ms inbound. Now, for drinks.

That's the nice thing about being the bride - you're generally wearing something that makes you easy to spot. Miriam drinks a little more as people continue to approach to offer their well-wishes, though more of her attention is on Raphaela. "How've you been? You look wonderful!" she says.

Raphaela smiles "I think no one has doubt who looks the best here." at Miriam "I have been well. I forgot how to socialize, though." she clears a path for Maggie and others not to steal Miri TOO MUCH. Just enough.

Merrisol adds a cursory bit of propulsion to their travels across the crowded room, but mostly follows in Maggie's wake, looking becalmed and carefree. Well, let's just say casual, anyway. Along the way, however, he deduces their need for beverage, and whispers as much to Maggie before separating from her to find some.

Maggie pauses for a moment to listen to the whisper. She nods, flashing her husband a brilliant smile. Lifting his hand, she watches his face as she brushes a kiss against his skin before releasing him. With a 'see you in a few' sort of grin, she resumes her approach. Reaching the other two, she offers each a hug in turn, "Good day to you both." She isn't going to claim that it is morning. Nope. Though she allows that it could be. "Kerf went to get drinks. How are you both?"

Miriam replies to Raph "I've had a lot've practice socializing th'last few years. Fortunately. It's helping." Though, she still looks like this is a lot for her. Then Maggie's with them, and given a tight hug. "Hello! I hope we didn't miss too much here?" Not that she looks sorry about missing some of the party. At all. Miriam adds then. "I'm good. I'm really good. That was a long, long wait. Worth it." She grins. Girl talk, right? That *is* Maggie's cousin she's talking about, though.

Raphaela gives Miriam a look "Wait for what?" deadpan blankface, she was called.

Maggie returns the hug then listens. Laughter inches toward her eyes though does not leave her lips. Instead, she shrugs, "When you and Martin took your leave things started to wind down. At least for some. Kerf and I did not stay much after you left." Winking at Miriam, Maggie turns to deadpan to Raphaela, "Sex." Then she adds, "Actually the wedding. They have been courting for a long time. This is the culmination of that courtship. Which had to have been fun or we wouldn't be here today."

Miriam does laugh. "At least it seems t'have picked up again." Then, "No, y'were right. We waited until th'wedding. Why do y'think we left so quickly?" There really were out of there pretty much as soon as they covered the important people.

Raphaela looks stunned, and shakes Miri's hand "Wow. Wooow. WHat?"

Maggie grins, mostly because she can't help it. "Yeah, I know, Miriam. Sometimes I can't believe how different he is from the guy touring with his rock band out in Shadow. Sometims, he's just the same." Maggie smiles again, this time for Raphaela, "I know, right? I'm pretty proud of both of them." Seeing as it was a joint decision and all.

Raphaela is just gaping still "Yeah yeah...What?" she looks between them. A Sorgo, speachless. Brava.

Miriam's laugh turns into a giggle briefly. "Not easy, let me tell you. And yeah, I've heard a lot about how Martin used t'be. I can't really even imagine that man. I mean. I can, some. I see't in him sometimes."

Raphaela grins "Oh man, you both need a trophy or something."

Maggie tilts her head toward Raphaela, "Are you okay?" Sure, getting a Sorgo speachless is neat, but ... Nodding to Miriam, she keeps an eye on her other friend to be sure that she is not going to have a seizure... "Well, he was different in that his drive was to get away and have fun. Succeed in music. Now, that drive is given over to Rebma and you." Raphaela's grin is returned though Maggie looses it at the trophy comment, "Oh, agreed. A trophy. Though that might not be what they want to commemorate."

Marlene comes in from the main spiral corridor through an arched entryway.

Miriam nods to Raphaela, apparently agreeing. "We wanted it all t'be proper'n right, for Sea and Sky coming together." she says with a shrug, and then there's a rare look of mischief to her. "That really depends on th'trophy."

Raphaela stares at Miriam. "Pun of the day, achieved."

Raphaela sort of gets this distant look, finger drawing in the air. Surely, design for a throphy.

Miriam can't help eying Raphaela when she gets that look, though it's playful.

Raphaela nodnods "I have to find some water resistent materials but it could work." sketch sketch.

Miriam laughs again. "Oh, dear." she says.

Raphaela waggles her brows "I haven't built anything in a while." she chuckles "This was....EPIPHANY."

Marlene has filtered back into the festivities: she's worked out some sort of fusion of Begman modesty and Rebman flashiness: ripply almost metallic-scaly local fabrics in long skirts with which she somehow squids along delicately, a bodice that allows movement to go with, and hair tied to stream relatively freely. She's got a cup of something bluish in hand and settles toward the dance floor.

Laughter begins as Maggie sees Raphaela sketching designs for something that is either highly suggestive or defies Maggie's ability to visualize it. Her glance sneaks along back toward the bar, searching for her husband and those promised drinks, possibly. That is when she finds Marlene in her amazing skirts. "Marlene!" Lifting a hand to go with the call, she motions her cousin over to join the current meeting of the Secret Girl's Club.

Miriam says aside to Maggie "I feel like I should be worried, but'm too busy being intrigued..." When the redhead calls to her cousin, Miriam looks that way as well and offers another bright smile.

Marlene waves and settles down by them, "Princess. Ladies, how are we today? Felicitations, of course," she adds to Miriam. "I suppose this makes us sisters, really."

Maggie snickers very softly as her attention returns to Miriam. She speaks in the same quiet way, "Oh, both are reasonable reactions, honestly." Stepping back a little, she widens the circle to give everyone more room.

Miriam says "I'm very well! And glad t'see so many having a good time. Martin and I should go out into th'city later, t'greet those that couldn't get in because've th'crowd. And t'see the festivities out there." She nods then, and demonstrate that sisterhood by offering Marlene a hug. "We are, and I'm delighted."

O M G! They are so cool! Raphaela sips her drink and returns to here and now.

Marlene returns the hug. "Well, one hopes we shall be in touch more, as things seem to be more settled out here. Oh, and I brought some beverages from my little realm, it's a barleywine flavoured with hedge herbs and berries. I decanted a cask into these special cups you use, one hopes I've got that right." Glances over to Raphe. "Inspiration, Lady De Sorgo?" she smiles.

Miriam's attention is pulled away briefly by a server with a question.

Raphaela grins "OH yes. A banging trophy." she grins more.

Maggie's own attention returns to the conversation and what a time to do that. "A banging trophy. This? I want to see." Her smile almost matches Raphaela's grin, but not quite. Turning to Marlene, she adds, "That wine sounds amazing. What a nice idea for a gift. How are things going with your people, by the way, Marlene?"

Miriam returns, and smiles to the ladies again. She missed the title of the trophy, which might be a good thing. "Sorry about that."

Marlene smiles a little, "Oh, I think quite well, I've been doing my best to keep the troubles away, but it's come some way in a few years, if I do say."

Maggie nods, her expression softening, "That is great to hear. It is impressive that you took that on, really. I admire you for doing it." Looking at Miriam, Maggie offers her a smile, "Oh, that is fine. Things happen. Welcome back. Oh, do you know when the dances and toasts are to be? I thought perhaps this evening? Though I know that the party will be going on for a while, yet."

Merrisol extricates himself from several mini-conversations and may have been observed misplacing and replacing the drinks in his hands at least a couple of times, before he returns to the cluster of M's and one rogue R. "Ahoy," he announces himself, falling silent before the collective display of finery and elegant innovations before him.

Miriam smiles again. "They should be this evening. We want t'give people all th'chance they want, to celebrate. I was thinking maybe over th'next three days we go t'places around th'city so that we can celebrate with as many as possible." Then Merri joins them, and he gets a hug, too.

Raphaela is sipping quietly, quite content or drunk.

Maggie has been kind of watching for her spouse's return so he is not left to his own devices for long. When Miriam gives Merrisol a hug, Maggie takes the drinks so he has free hands to return it. "Welcome back, love. We've had a bunch of interesting conversations."

Merrisol only spends a few seconds in moony-eyed contemplation, and recovers his ability to overlook details. He grins at Miriam and slings an arm around her for the duration of embrace. Over her head, he flashes an appreciative smile at Maggie for making sure he doesn't lose another precious set of champagne sippers. "The royal tailor must be chiseling autographs right now," he says of their outfits.

Raphaela grins "YOu men have it easy. Just arrange muscles right and it is a no thinker to look Rebma-stunning." noefforthereatallnopethumbsupfuffy "We have to get creative with very little. Also, my tailor is too scandalized for Rebman outfits, so I have to outsource." she grins.

Once Miriam lets go of Merrisol, she has another sip of whatever it is she's drinking. "They were designed by one've my people, actually. They wanted t'be as involved as possible." There was a contingent of them at the wedding, of course. They've been seen much more in the past year, as they've learned to handle themselves better around those who look like Amberites.

Once the hug has been handled, Maggie returns one of the champaign sippies to Merrisol with a wink and a nod, "Tirian was very kind and brilliant with the design." She can't help but grin at Raphaela, "Well... Whomever you had design it did a beautiful job, Raphaela. You look stunning." Tilting her head slightly, she nods to Miriam, "That can be difficult. I am glad that they are all adjusting to each other."

Raphaela grins and then asks Miriam "Which adjustment was most challenging? I would find very challenging to adjust to Tyr."

Marlene laughs a little about the usual conspicuously-different standards of modesty. "So, indeed, though, all very lovely."

Miriam nods emphatically to Maggie. "I'm glad, too." She explains then to Raphaela and Marlene "Th'Tir my brother freed from beyond the gates came down t'Amber with nothing but hatred in them for all th'generations've being trapped away. Hatred for Amber, I mean." The memory causes her to frown. "They could not control it. That's why they've mostly been at Icedeep, away from th'chance t'run into any Amberites, while we worked on handling it and then slowly changing it. It's been easier for some than others."

Raphaela is positively smiling diplomatically at opportunity of resentful Tirians gathering with resentful Rebmans having oportunity to mingle. Maybe she doesn't think of that, she has been drinking for a while.

Marlene ahs, there, simply listening to that part, for a while, ...that's unfortunate, her look seems to be saying, but she adds, "I hadn't known there was such an attitude, really, though events regarding Tir were rather ...before my time here."

Holding her sipper, Maggie listens to the conversations as they weave this way and that. She smiles at Marlene, nodding, hardly aware of just how much her own sense of modesty has changed over time and association with Rebmanity as a whole. Still, she would not give up her Modesty Shells(tm). Tilting her head toward Miriam, she adds, "That was a lot of hard work, I know. I was not much involved in it, but you did a good job. I am glad, Miriam. Your people deserve to be happy." Though that does bring to mind those Tirians still up there. If there are any left. Maggie nods with Marlene's observation, "Mine, too." Though a frown begins as she considers the time before. Then, clearing her throat a little, she smiles, "But, let's talk of other things? We have so much to celebrate and I would like a brief break to recharge before tackling the next crisis. Is that okay?"

Miriam nods to Maggie, and says "They've come very far. I can't blame them for their anger, but th'one that trapped them there is gone. I won't let them harm people who had nothing t'do with't. And by th'time we finally learn how t'free th'rest, we'll be able t'help them adjust, too." Then she chuckles again, at Maggie's request. "Yes. We're here t'focus on th'reasons we have t'celebrate."

Marlene raises her glass to those sentiments from Maggie. "Hear, hear."

Raphaela clinks but remains quiet.

Maggie smiles at Miriam, "Thank you. Though I know your people's plight is very close to your heart and is something we all need to help with. I have not forgotten. But you are my new cousin in law and that is one of the many things to celebrate." So, she lifts her champaigne sipper and clinks with Marlene and Raphaela before turning to Miriam. "This isn't the official toast..." Lifting the glass then, she takes a drink of the shimmery, bubbly liquid within.

Raphaela starts bobbing sideways, very elegantely pretending it is not happening. Sip.

Miriam can't help watching the tilting Raphaela, and grins. Then she looks back towards Maggie and lifts her drink as well. "I have some amazing new family." she says. "You're very dear t'me."

Raphaela starts to turn, around her head, or you know. weighted hair. As long as heads are on conversational level, should be polite... Spinning in slow motion. (ooc: tries not to hum the waltz from 2001). Those quiet drinkers. Oh right. Raph HAS stopped drinking (a lot) lately.

Merrisol lifts his sipper presently, having been visually ambushed once more and held prisoner for a minute. Sooo belatedly, he nods round to Miriam and Maggie, toasting this Tirian Talent. "You were both stunning visions at the ceremony. The descent from the ceiling spire was ingenious," he says, smiling with the sippy poked at his mouth. He spends another moment with his inward recall, a somewhat perplexed warp to his brow. Shaking his head, he looks over at Marlene and her crinolines, unabashedly deconstructing the moving components with his gaze. It's not as lecherous as it sounds!

It's very hard to guess just what makes those skirts move as they do, some articulation underneath in lieu of petticoats, really, ...it's more Raphaela's rotation that's a bit strange. "Well, at least one can't really call it falling-down drunkenness," she jests. "Quite all right, there?"

Raphaela tips her tipper "QUite allright." completely articulate. "I just enjoy the different perspective." Bobb. Bobb. She flashes a big grin.

Maggie blushes just a touch at Merrisol's praise, "Thank you. I am glad that you approve." There is a faint emphasis on the second to last word there. "Coming down from above was Miriam's idea. It felt right." Turning, she looks between Raphaela and Marlene. Tilgint her head a bit, she watches the Sorgo Lady bob, "That looks fun..." Is she about to start bobbing gently along with Raphaela? The though has clearly crossed her mind.

Miriam keeps an eye on Raphaela, of course. Once she starts being too tipped, she'll call for someone to see the Sorgo to a guest room to rest. Hers is no longer occupied. Fortunately, it's much easier to get dead weight to a room when underwater than it is up in the air. She smiles again to the others, and says "It seemed appropriate, for Tir t'come down from th'sky, at least figuratively. I'm glad't went over well."

Raphaela is a good drunk. Besides, the hell would she go in a room used for first wedding night. The horrors might be lurking in the dark waters.

Marlene smiles. "Oh, I thought it was suitably grand. I rather expected Martin to make a bigger show of it, actually, but the vows were lovely."

"Gracefully done, too. The modified trains will be sensational over the dance floor. You'll save me a dance, please, Miriam?" inquires Merri, like a smoothie, now lowering his sippyflute from one side of his mouth, "I. "And you as well, Only?" Though with Maggie, it will surely be many more than one dance. The renewed winnowing by Raph and then Maggie draws his gaze, and he smiles slowly. "Sooner than later, I wager?"

Maggie takes another longish drink from the cup Merrisol provided. That is when she remembers that she will be making a toast shortly and it really would not due to have nothing to drink when the time comes. Lowering the cup, she glances around for a fresh one. Spotting someone with a tray of flutes, she almost tears off before hearing Merrisol. Looking up at him, she gives him one of those smiles reserved just for him, "Absolutely, All. As many as you want. But first, I am going to get one of the waiters to bring a tray over. Back in a bit." Which probably means as soon as she can get extracted from whatever conversations are demanded on the way there and back.

Miriam smiles again, her face lighting up a bit at the mention. "His vow was beautiful. And I'd be sad if I didn't have a dance with you." she says to Merrisol. Then there's another request for her attention, and she excuses herself again.

Marlene smiles about the dancing, she rather loves that sort of thing.

Raphaela just bobbs, studying Marlene's construction. "I want to undress you." she nods "It looks like intriguing system." buahahhahaha. Begmans.

Marlene laughs, quietly, "Well, we might arrange something sometime," she winks.

Merrisol grins again briefly when he manages to score a promise of fantastic-light-tripping with both Maggie and Miriam. He watches Maggie glide away, then turns to glance between Raphaela and Marlene, forgetting to be scandalized by the disrobing talk. He only hopes he'll be available for that. For the mechanism-viewing! "Lady Marlene, I really do believe, if that armature design holds its own for locomotion and dancing whilst you remain in attendance, there'll be local clothiers sniffing about for a chance to meet you. Would you be interested in producing more of them?"

Marlene ahs, "Well, it would likely be very difficult for them to reproduce it, I'm sure. Some of the earlier prototypes could be within the realm of practicality, though." She smiles, "They serve to dance fairly well in, at least."

Ruby leans creepily from behind one of the upper tiers, peering down upon the bustling throne room. Like an eel questing out of its cave. Watching unblinkingly at the colourful souls swishing about.

Raphaela is bobbing upside down among the others. We shall call it a philosophical choice. Why not.

With there being just enough space in the gallery for shenanigans, a Dolphin glides slowly sideways into frame to join Ruby, one wet button eye leering from under its sleek shiny melon. "SOOOOO...."

Merri hikes his eyebrows at the prospect. "I know some divas who would flip over the chance to showcase them," he tells Marlene. "I mean.. once they see you in action. Might I reserve a space on your dancecard?" He looks hopeful.

A vein in Ruby's temple swells prodigiously with blood flow. She's already expelled whatever counts as magical respiration down here, so when she goes to draw in more delicious oxygen, there's a faint whistle accompanying it that betrays a viciously constricted windpipe. With horror movie slowness, she turns her head to see what has joined her. "Feeeesh."

Raphaela gives Fuffy such a look. Fond but condemning. Such a dance slut, this guy. Show offff. Ooooh a tray of drinks.

Marlene winks, "I expect you can, Merrisol." It's about then she notices Ruby and the dolphin, beams back.

The Fuffmaestro is just getting started, baby. His gaze warms with anticipation, like a normal fellow would for testdrive models at a yacht show. Except in this case, it's Marlene he's taking for a spin! "Terrific," he glances around for the orchestra, but they are still setting up at the opposite end of the throne room. Besides, there's still the wedding party speeches to be made. He offers his hand to Raphaela in case she's not upside down by choice. "Hair weights getting you down?"

Raphaela flashes a brilliant smile at Fuffy and holds his arm, upside down. "Nonsense. NOTHING can hold me down."

"No thank ya, I'm stuffed!" Dolphin's beak couldn't get much smilier, but it /tries/ hard. "SO. /You's/ The Liberator of Tales!"

Ruby opens her mouth part way. Her gaze moving from dolphin eye to its mouth as it speaks. Staring like there's something caught in there. Adjusting her jewelry she tries to phhhhppt dismissively. It sounds...weird, down here and she stops immediately once the noise assaults her own ears. "You full 'o more than feeesh." She catches Marlene's glance and raises a hand in greeting, murmering to the sea mammal, "Wasn't me fault. An don't goo tellin tha whale where I am. Still can't sleep roight."

Merrisol sips his champagne while considering Raphaela from a new perspective. Like, he's never seen her nude toes before. "All right then.." Releasing his bottle with a twist to get it spinning languidly between them, he checks quickly for the buffer of space behind him, then stoops cleanly into a jacknife. Tucking his legs into the somersault, then pointing them vertical again, he ends up inverted and facing Raph now, using one digit from his free hand to 'toe' the marble floor. "You're going to give us both a headrush," he remarks upside-downedly.

A single flipper-wave sets the nosy Dolphin rolling in place, with the intent to grab a 360-degree look everything going in the Throne Room below, winking at Marlene. The smooth cartilaginous fin plucks at the bikini string at Ruby's hip in what must be but probably isn't an innocent accident of proximity. It continues on and jingles some of her jangles. Wheeeeee~ On Porpoise! "Oh I know it! Noticed the second ya wonked into the room," is relayed to Ruby once Dolphin is right side up again. "It's all that Ambergris you'se still got smeared /everywhere/. So whiffy!"

Raphaela offers "You're dragging me down, beefcake." she was floating face to face with people so they don't watch her crotch. It is DEECENT SOCIETEEY.

Ruby wonks a pace or two away from the dolphin. A look of irritation and guilt on her face. She doesn't dare try and sniff her underarms and show doubt in herself, but it's a strong urge. She tries to straighten some of her shinies. "I washed, swear. An this is one big bloody bath, ain't it?" She scowls. "...You know where't is?" she posits the question and hooks a hand on her hip. "Aye, you know where it be now?"

Maggie returns with a server in tow. Maggie is carrying a tray of snackage while the young man following her carries drinks. Pausing to watch Merrisol talking with Raphaela on the down low, she smiles a slow, faintly bemused smile. See what happens once she leaves? People go all bibbily. Time to have another drink, clearly. Or one of these nifty bulbs of sweetness. Or something. Miriam, as guest of honor, gets to choose first. Lifting her gaze she notes Ruby and the Dolphin up on high. The tray is motioned in a 'come hither' sort of way in order to entice the ForgeMistress down dooby do down down.

Eee-e-e-e-eeh! For every step Ruby moves away, the Dolphin merely floats along the same path, teetering one fin gracefully for propulsion. "It, being the sticky spew? Everywhere!" The nearest fin juts out again, touchy-touchy on Ruby's bare skin, but this time, in a deftly fluttering motion that presses into whatever passes for resilience along the amazonian torso. "It's deep, see?" A thin whistle-click emits in place of a snare-cymbal zinger. "Deep like these other inky-thinkies!"

"I mean where be tha bloody whale! I..." Ruby moves her lips but her jaws stay mostly together while she get more flustered. It starts to sink in what the dolphin is getting at. "We see aboot tha." The feel of the flipper has her hastening her passage towards the edge of the balcony. "You be first dolphin I tattoo if you get fin-flippy with me..." When her hips meet it, she tilts and lets the motion help carry her on an intercept course with those below.

Merri and Raph take their Cirque act closer to the coffee and tea service, where he manages to persuade her to swing right-side up before trying to imbibe any of the java liqueur. A noble from House Daffyd recognizes the Baroness as a good friend of Lord Liam, and captures her for conversation, whereupon Merrisol wanders back through the gathering to rejoin the remainder of the group. He picks up his champagne sipper and discards it in a bussing basket before sidling over to see what Maggie has for second helpings.

Oh sploosh! Now it has to bear the title of Deserted Dolphin for the rest of the evening! As Ruby does a balcony dive out of sight, the poor poise just floats there forlornly like a Forever Alone meme. ~...All around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces...~

Maggie looks faintly confused for a moment or three before she shakes her head, clearing it of fog, daydreams or something. Turning a bit, she offers the tray to Marlene and Merrisol as he returns. Raphaela is missed, but then found off talking with some folk or other. The sweets are delicatly shaped into swirling shells, blooming anemonies and; in a concession to Tir and Miriam, crescent moons. The gel that keeps the filling from discipating into the sea is nearly clear, giving them a whispy sort of appearance. Sidling up to Merrisol, Maggie offers him some of the deserts. Maggie is followed by one of the Palace serving staff, a young man eager to please. He offers the tray of champaigne flutes around, though pointedly does not sidle up to the Warden.

Marlene awws a bit, though, shoots the dolphin a sympathetic look, and "Oh, thanks" from the tray. She wonders if dolphins like the treats.

Poor dolphin. Ruby kicks her legs to move closer to M&M&M. She asserts a proper alignment when she's at their level, upright and everything. She rubs at her arms and the accidental places she got flippered, fingers searching for some affliction that's apparently skin deep. "Nnngh."

Miriam was drawn away longer than expected, but perhaps that isn't surprising. There are a LOT of distractions. Eventually though, she is looking for her friends (and now family!) again.

Merrisol, Marlene, and Maggie are round about in the same area, but Raphaela has gone to the coffee liqueurs and gotten snapped up by one of Liam's Daffyd associates. Taking her place now, since apparently R's must be Represented, is Ruby, escaping the upper balcony where a Dolphin has been bugge...er, /bugging/ her.

The Dolphin whistles a So Lonely tune to itself. Quite enjoyable, really.

Merrisol selects a wafery shape from Maggie's offering hand, and munches it whole. Hmm! The next one is offered to his wife, in the grand tradition of Food-based PDA. Presently, he lifts his gaze up to track Ruby's approach, along with a few flickers between her and the foiled pervert. He tips her a sage nod, saluting her timely escape with a new champagne.

Miriam has obtained a new drink while she was elsewhere. Spotting the others isn't hard, and she's back with them soon. "I didn't mean t'be gone so long! A line formed!" She laughs quietly, though also blushes. "Everyone's so kind."

Maggie pauses in her sweets pushing to get lost in Merrisol's eyes as he takes the sweet. Lingering there, she accepts the wavery thin confection from his fingertips, a light sparkling in her eyes. Mmm. Makes the sweet taste better, it does. He is offered a wink that is only subtly suggestive before she turns to regreet Miriam, "Welcome back."

Amy and Viktor vanished for a while. A long while. Seriously a long while. Well, they are married. Old and staid right? So surely they were just sleeping cause you know, old and married. Or something. In any event, now Amy's back on the dance floor, Viktor probably not far. And of course Amy's willing to get up to the midlevels, even if not to the top - without a good partner. underwater dancing is a lot of fun, and maybe safer than tag with Chase.

Merrisol does not look all that surprised to observe Ruby being intercepted by one of his own cousins, Lord Karl, a Whale rancher. He turns away to mind his own business, and faces Miriam as well when she returns. "I hope that meams there won't be a formal receiving line before the reception dinner?" he asks, with a bit of a smirk.

Viktor is not too far away, but not dancing right now. Instead, he's watching his wife with a smile on his face as he drinks.

Miriam grins, and says "I think we can mostly skip it by now. I think we've received most've the people we need to. I mean, I guess there'll be one, but I hope this means it'll be pretty short."

Maggie follows Merrisol's glance back to see Karl intercept Ruby and she smiles a bit. Seemed like a nice guy when last they met. But, her attention is then caught by Amy dancing up in the middle tier. As she watches, Maggie's feet almost start a-tapping. She stops herself about half way toward a toe-tapping that would probably launch her into the water above. Stifling a giggle, she hands the waiter the tray of goodies, "Thanks, Darnal." The youth kind of bows and moves off with both trays, though both are lightened considerably. Lifting her new sipper of champaigne, Maggie claims a drink while half listening and half watching the dancers.

Silly viking - missing out on the fun. Amy is having a blast, the amusement shining through, as she whirls, twirls, figure eights and otherwise dances, water swooshing more or less appropriately. Eventually though, she bounces down out of the heights she's gotten to - not bad for a drylander, and makes her way to get a drink! And oh look, she knows those folks right there. So she angles her landing towards Miriam, Maggie and Merrisol.

Merri insuinuates his arm down around Maggie's waist as though to help her tap-tap without launching into the waters above. The music has been ongoing since that first rock anthem explosion from the heights above the dais, allowing for spontaneous free-style in the space marked out for three-dimensional ballroom. "Naturally, it's open season again once you and Martin head out to the streets," he remarks to Miriam. His fingertips caress Maggie's hip restlessly, as her kinetic anticipation seeps in through the contact. The sight of another blonde twirling in the mid-heights of the dance where complex moves reign, keeps drawing his gaze, and when Amethyst does descend, he toasts her with his champagne, grinning.

Viktor looks like he's having a pretty good time just watching Amy, but she's probably right that she's having the better time. Once she descends and heads for the others, he joins her and offers the group a nod and then smile. Miriam gets a slight bow, though. "Your Highness. Congratulations. It was an honor to join you and the Lord Regent for the occasion." He had stayed back the night before, to let others offer their well-wishes first.

Miriam nods to Merrisol. "Oh, of course. There'll be lines everywhere we go. But at least it'll be shorter here, before we eat." Then Amy and Viktor are approaching. She gets a smile and a hug, and then she returns Viktor's bow. "Your Majesty. We were honored too, that y'left Kitezh t'share this with us." It's known he does that rarely.

While the music has shifted a bit as the musicians take turns entertaining, and the party goers have ebbed and flowed like the tide, the party itself shows no signs of slowing down. Clearly, the intent that people come and go as they wish has been a success. Food and drink have been refreshed whenever the tables' offerings have flagged so sweets and savories are offered together. Champaigne has been joined by wine and even a few smatterings of beer and harder liquers. Even the decorations have been managed so that the room appears to be as newly party-ready as it was for the wedding itself.

Dancing seems to be ongoing, though the number of couples, triples or individuals giving the tricky moves a try has changed more dramatically than anything else. As expected, many a Rebman asked the ladies and gentlemen of our favorite cluster to dance, for friends and relatives of the newly wedded couple are attractive and good to know. Many a designer in the gathered throng undoubtedly watched Marlene's crenolations with intense interest should she have been lured out to boogy.

Maggie has just finished a dance with one Lord Wyster Mairwen and the two part ways at the edge of the dance floor. She curtsies as he bows, though they do not clonk heads. Laughing, she returns to where she left her companions, snagging a flute of champaigne as she goes.

Raphaela is dancing off her booze, but oddly enough, perhaps it is a talent, she never is dancing with a partner below her station. Needs a husband, not gonna do rubble.

The majority of the common rabble can be found partaking of festivities in the courtyard, but the greatest numbers are reveling along the Grand Promenade. Rubbing elbows and shins amongst nobility is generally as Not-Done in Rebma as it is in Amber. At the Marquess level, there's definitely less eligible bachelors to go around. In an openly matriarchal society, house ascendancy favors the daughters, although Martin's own rise to power has noticeably shifted attitudes in the next generation. Therefore, ambitious could-be Counts and Barons /are/ doing their research on these visiting Amber royals and nobles, and beginning to approach Marlene and Raphaela to entreat positions on their dance cards.

Raphaela has a specific taste in men, too. If they are not selfrighteous bafoons of first class stock, meh. Shiny and trophylike. Good thing tho - no stepping on toes in Rebma. Just odd outofsync spazzing like at the moment. Raph is terribly polite to the poor nervous guy that is attempting to impress her and failing so miserably it is almost cute. Almost. But his eyes are not pretty enough.

Marlene seems to be doing her share of mingling and conversing. And dancing. One thing about Marlene is, she seems to like people, in general, well, as long as they aren't rude in a coarse way. Which leads to a rather constant dance card indeed. Even her remarkable skirts, more or less came about as a way to facilitate dancing in Rebma, since she loves that, too. But it's also a very good way to gather social information on the state of Rebman courts, which given her many family ties here, seems a very prudent idea.

As in all previous functions, Merrisol has established himself as an agreeable dance partner to all, going out of his way to invite the novices for a turn on the marble floor level where a solid surface best helps simulate the gravity-bound techniques in Amber. He can also be found in the daring top echelon when some diva from the early days requires a partner for some showy whirling acrobatics, anticipating the oft-times buffeting slipstreams to become sweeping blurs of colour and shine in limited confines. All for a good cause, keeping the energy levels high and spirits set to exuberant.

Numbers don't last too long, since even lords and ladies gotta pace themselves, and still be fresh for the waltzes to come after the formal dinner and speeches. Merrisol drops into the spacious middle tier, slowing his drop with a couple of arabesque in reversing rotaions, while his eyes scan all corners of the room, seeking someone.

Maggie pauses on reaching the grouper's former pausing place. Turning, she scans for her companions. When she sees both Marlene and Raphaela dancing or in negotiation for the same, she smiles. Although she feels sorry for the poor, stammery young man Raphaela is about to shut down, it is still good to see her friends having fun. Her eyes are drawn upwards when a blur of color catches her attention. Watching Merrisol give a Lady a turn about the top tier is almost as much fun as being that lady. As the dance continues, she finishes her flute of champaigne and sets it in a passing collection basket. Those arabesques of his, both appealing in form and function, for they allow him a wider view of the audience, are a joy to see. Noting that he is seeking someine and hoping that she is that someone, Maggie waves. Of course, it could be any of their set, for he is on all of their cards.

Raphaela makes an excuse, any excuse as music finishes, she politely but eagarly pulls away. SHe drags herself to Maggie "I need more drinks if this is to continue."

Marlene does settle off the dance space herself for a refreshment: underwater, it's easy to lose track of time, and there's some new information to file. "Ladies, good evening," she smiles.

Maggie pauses in her approach to the dance floor, her hand lowering slowly. Turning her attention to Raphaela, then Marlene, she nods, "One sec, Raph." A passing server is flagged down and new drinks are passed around. "Evening, Marlene. You look like you are having fun." The pair are welcomed and she takes another drink herself.

Raphaela grins "Feet hurt less in Rebma!" she states happily.

The broad extensions of his also serve to expand and mark out some personal boundaries in the midst of several other solos and couples, a space of which Merri intends to make full use. Seeing his wife near the sidelines opposite the dais, he draws his limbs tighter to spin to a snapping halt and smiles at her. At what must be his bidding, a grouping of long silvery fish dart away from the gallery levels and rush down towards the trio, swooping around them once in a short-lived, glistening cyclone. Then they single out Maggie, swarming in a rising spiral that drags her mane up into a twisting tower of ruddy flame. They flash away in an arc, heading for Merrisol. If she so chooses, a single bounce off the floor will draw her up into the singular slipstream and speed her to his reaching, waiting hand.

Raphaela looks up at the fish swilred mags. Looks to the passing waitor and gets the drinks for her and marly. THe flare.

Marlene smiles a little, claiming a drink. "Oh, I always do love a dance. And one meets the most interesting people, sometimes."

Raphaela says "I am afraid I got a bit...disused to the crowded gatherings. I forgot how tiring it can be."

Marlene smiles at Maggie's showy exit via schools of fish. "Well, all the undersea life is just lovely here, certainly. There's some rather pretty frogs in my little realm, and of course Dirk brought penguins, but this is quite unique."

Raphaela sips "Of course he did. I bet that is where he exported frogs from."

Marlene hrms. "I don't think so, in particular, actually. Unless they were brightly-coloured and somewhat toxic if eaten."
Raphaela says "I make a poiint of not eating anything Dirk sends...I give it to my butler."

Lifting her gaze as Merrisol halts up there. The fish that swarm down to them, swirling her hair into an uplifted cloud of fire and flare win him quite the smile. The pale blue cape she wears flares into the eddies the fish provide and she toasts her husband with the last of that flute's champaigne. Once drained, she sets the glass aside and leaps into the upward stream the fish provide, "Talk to you later, ladies." Without any effort on her part, the waters carry her aloft, her cape and hair lending the assent color and drama. Then her focus is entirely on her husband as the stream deposits her in front of him. Her hand meets his, fingers tightening briefly about his own.

Merri's expectant smile brightens to anticipation when his fishy invitation is accepted. The critters are released from their courier duties for now, flitting past him to get to the revealed location of their krill treats. He spins out of the current's pull and catches Maggie's hand as she arrives, arms stretching out to their full between them, for a languid moment of skirt-trailing freespin with joined hands as the axis point. "Hey," he drawls, like it's a meeting by chance, though when they lock eyes it's anything but. Poise held for one more second, he leads her with a deft wrist motion to spin in along his arm to shelter at his chest for a lingering tender moment, then away again along his other arm.

Marlene ahs, and says to Raphe, "I'm not sure that's adviseable, ...good help's rather hard to find, lately."

Raphaela considers "He is a sturdy old fellow. ALthough since Dirk has room in residence he developed an ulcer, poor thing." she grins. Keep your staff busy and they have no time to plot against you. BUA HAHA! she sips and asks "Any amazing projects lately?"

Easing out of the silver-flecked fish-inspired current, Maggie lingers at the end of both her arm and his, "Hi." Let the illusion of new meetings linger for a moment, though it is lost when their eyes meet and lock. The spin lingers, slowly, the rotation about that apex nearly complete when she feels that twist that draws her in a long spin along his arm. Her hair and that cape take the motion to fluttering extremes, each almost waving a greeting to someone or other near or far. It stops when she is against his chest, her arm curled against her side, hand still held briefly. The other lifts for a momentary, tender touch against his cheek. Then she is in motion again, spinning along his arm until her hand catches his. She extends beyond his arm, once more anchored by clasped hands. Her free hand archs over her head in a graceful curve that is mimiced by one lifted leg. It is nearly a ballet pose, held for a moment before it is her turn to shift her wrist to send him upward toward her elevated fingers.

Merrisol watches his partner's grace with intent focus, relishing the sight of her ballerina experience coming out in her moves. When she decides to turn tables and lead him instead, he goes with it easily, tipping into a long inversion that sends him backflipping over her head. Using the momentum, he twists and draws her up through the crescent arc of his body like a font of pale and vibrant escaping the depths. With a fluttering pulse he straightens out and skims beneath her, each touch of his fingers over her back and so on down to one ankle supporting an extended lift. Then with a push on her heel, he releases Maggie to complete her glimmering loop and bring them face to face once more. The music is a lilting piece of water flutes and plucked harp strings, and as it drifts to a long close, Merri is well content to dance in close contact until the final note.

Marlene ohs, and nods. "Well, this and that. Whatever's coming for Amber, there's been measures to take against eventualities as you know, and some inquiries of my own that have taken some intention. "That and shore defences for my own little realm. I rather hope to commence some trade on a bigger scale with my little realm, as soon as there's less worry about abominations getting in: also one can't do everything at once and trading with stronger sea powers always has its potentials for trouble."

Lifting her head to watch Merrisol demonstrate his flexibility and strength in that backflip above, Maggie lets her hair extend into the slipstream he creates. The flame lifting is followed by the sea-and-sky blue of her short cape as he lifts her. Her body archs in the same crescent that his described, though she flutter-kicks gently to add momentum to the flight. Her arm trails after for a moment, then angles out, away and up to slow the forard motion. Her head lowers so she can watch him below her, the touches sparking invisible shimmers of energy and awareness through her. The smile grows to a grin and her arms unfold to extend toward him, the arch of her shoulders and upper back yearning toward him. As her reaches her ankle, she lifts her arms, reversing the arch of her back. The cloak and her hair spiral behind her as she 'takes wing' at his push. Moving upward, then back again, she reaches up and up and back until the loop is completed. Her arms settle about his shoulders as the strings and flutes play out their melody. She, too, is content to remain right there, held and holding in a mutual closeness that almost sings with quiet happiness.

Raphaela nodnods "WE do need to strengthen trade relations." She offers Marlene prime view, as her back is turned to the fireworks above.

Marlene nods to Raphaela, tilting her head a bit at that. "I certainly agree. It's certainly a bit of a happy accident that our circumstances have so suited the needs of the Ladies' Auxiliary, really. It's just that as things get better there, the more it also needs defending, rather a balancing act in the best of times, and these certainly are not those, I'm afraid." SHe does, however, applaud the display of dance and effects.

Raphaela nodnods solemnly, drinks and applauds on her wrist holding a drink. While not watching directly so her eyes don't get diabetes, it is safe to presume that the two are spectacular together.

Merrisol lifts his head after their waning buoyancy draws them low enough that he ought to do something about it. The floor dancers are breaking up and milling about while waiting for the new set. Above their heads, Merri steals a kiss from Maggie before angling them into a gently sloping swim, to where they can get their legs under them for a landing beside the bar. Bearing a new batch of refreshments, lime-stuffed bottles of minty liquor, they glide back to Marlene and Raph.

Maggie is as reluctant to break away from Merrisol as she is eager to return that stollen kiss. But, then again, she does not want to push back into the middle tier by stepping on some poor soul's head. Settling for entering the sloping swim with him, she inverts to find her footing on safely smooth marble instead of some poor Dame's pearls. Gliding to the bar, she leans her elbows on the surface while their order is seen to. It is interesting to see the 'slice and squirt' mechanism that sends the limes into the sippers. Once their drinks are arranged, she helps carry them back to their friends, "Hello again." She looks bubbly, beaming and filled with energy, despite the recent exertions.

Marlene smiles to Maggie and Merri, raising a drink bulb she's been distracted from sampling. Perhaps a secret to never becoming terribly tipsy in extended parties, ...one's got to remember to actually drink the beverages otherwise.

Raphaela mirrors Marlene's motion "You look positively sparking, Maggie." she grins.

Merri grins fleetingly around the green drink he's sipping down, pleased to just stand there lightly with his arm around Maggie's back tickled by the silky cape. He is quite aware that showcasing her beauty and form around the mid-levels carries the consequence of perhaps losing her to the next dances at the eager requests other partners. He is prepared to be civil and good-natured about this. "Think you'll be overnighting at the palace?" is inquired of their cousin/friend. "We could plan on breakfast in the guest wing tomorrow, discuss a few matters outside of wedding concerns."

Maggie sips her own green refreshing drink. She has her arm around Merrisol's waist. Her cape does flutter against his arm, but only now and then when an eddy obliges. She leans against him for a moment or two, reveling in just being here. Lowering the drink, she turns her attention to the others, "Oh, thanks, both of you. I love dancing, particularly with Kerf." Clearly. But, she will probably oblige other partners, since the former is true. "Breakfast sounds good. Have you all heard when the toasts and so on are going to be?" As Matron, she should know! Darn it. But she doesn't.

Marlene ahs to Maggie. "Well, my brother does like both fanfare and surprises, so I'm quite sure it'll be very obvious, if at short notice." She smiles, though, there being some affection for that.

Merrisol nods. "Probably sometime during dessert before the jellied octopus dissolves and the guests become too besotted to listen."

Raphaela sips quietly and nodnods at the obvious.

After a few minutes, Maggie is, indeed, lured away to dance. The gentleman does ask if it is alright first. Sort of shyly. Excusing herself, Maggie takes him up on the invitation.