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middaeg2021-03-15 08:36 pm
ua_duibhne) wrote in middaeg2021-03-15 08:36 pm
Entry tags:
[semi-open] it's a nice day for a white wedding
Who: Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (ua_duibhne), Ciarán Cú (curruid_coinchenn), and guests!
When: March 15th
Where: Outside the city.
What: Ever been to a celtic wedding? Now you have. Ya boys are finally tying the knot.
Warnings: N/A
i. Ceremony (Closed to Berserker)
[Today is the day- or rather, tonight is the night. Strange as it feels to have a wedding at such a late hour, it gives them ample time to prepare and set up the ceremonial space. Having decided on a clearing just outside the city limits, much of the afternoon had been spent decorating and fussing over arrangements, though Diarmuid was responsible for considerably more of the latter than Berserker.
The evening draws in and, like ink flooding a page, the sky turns from orange to a velvety indigo. The torches dotted around the clearing might have been set up for practical reasons but they’re certainly impactful; each burns with spectacular, prismatic flames, the colours twisting and trembling in the breeze as though caught in a dance. The trees are hung with garlands woven with wildflowers and roses and finished with ribbons in the same colours as those waiting to be tied around the couple’s hands. Naturally, there are tables too, along with a selection of drinks and even a makeshift bar to accommodate a certain bartender.
Everything leads up to the centrepiece of the set-up: at the head of the clearing is a large, gnarled oak tree, its ancient branches left undecorated. It seemed disrespectful to dress something so ancient and noble. In its shadow is a table with three unlit candles and everything else needed for the ceremony itself.
And it’s there that Diarmuid waits along with the witch overseeing things. Dressed in pure white with a simple wreath of twisted silver atop his head and standing tall and proud, he makes for a striking groom. A closer look will reveal the impatience in his body language, the eagerness in his eyes as the last of his nerves burn away. Somehow, he thought he’d just be consumed by memories of his past life but not so: all he wants is to see his betrothed and swear his love aloud. He wants to wind it around them with those ribbons and tie their hearts together before every person here- no, before the stars overhead and the trees and moon and whatever else might bear witness to it.
And then it’s time and Diarmuid feels his chest tighten. When he next turns, he’s looking at Ciarán and their future is as clear and bright as the smile Diarmuid gives him.
Only a limited number of people are allowed in for this part of the evening. In keeping with their desire for a more private affair, only close friends, Bonded partners and their choice of guests will be around for this.]
ii. Celebrations (Open to CR)
[The majority of guests arrive once the handfasting ceremony is over and each is gifted with a small flower tied with a teal and crimson ribbon. The drinks are flowing, the music is vibrant, and the mild weather and night breeze encourage celebrating well into the early hours. For their part, the two grooms mingle and socialise- one with perfectly honed hosting skills and the other not so much but he’s making an effort- and it’s easy enough to catch a moment with either of them.
What would a wedding be without drink? On Scáthach’s recommendation, Jill is heading up the bar and has an arsenal of alcohol-based weapons at her disposal. Of course, tradition calls for a glass of mead before anything else and it goes down strong and sweet. Getting a few drinks in might even help more reticent guests get into the spirit of things and join the others in dancing at the centre of the clearing. The band that’s been hired plays a mixture of fast paced and slow songs, old and new, and it’ll take a strong will not to get caught up in the atmosphere and pulled into it.
More unusually, though, is that a few hours in, Diarmuid- or was it Berserker? Or someone else altogether?- takes to the floor and, a little tipsily, insists that someone indulge him in a fight. One thing leads to another and any guest might find themselves caught in a punch-up, albeit a good natured one. Like the mead, it’s a matter of tradition, just one that’s left unspoken. It’s a friendly spar more than anything, with challengers receiving another round of booze and a cheer for their efforts regardless of the outcome.]
ua_duibhne), Ciarán Cú (curruid_coinchenn), and guests!When: March 15th
Where: Outside the city.
What: Ever been to a celtic wedding? Now you have. Ya boys are finally tying the knot.
Warnings: N/A
i. Ceremony (Closed to Berserker)
[Today is the day- or rather, tonight is the night. Strange as it feels to have a wedding at such a late hour, it gives them ample time to prepare and set up the ceremonial space. Having decided on a clearing just outside the city limits, much of the afternoon had been spent decorating and fussing over arrangements, though Diarmuid was responsible for considerably more of the latter than Berserker.
The evening draws in and, like ink flooding a page, the sky turns from orange to a velvety indigo. The torches dotted around the clearing might have been set up for practical reasons but they’re certainly impactful; each burns with spectacular, prismatic flames, the colours twisting and trembling in the breeze as though caught in a dance. The trees are hung with garlands woven with wildflowers and roses and finished with ribbons in the same colours as those waiting to be tied around the couple’s hands. Naturally, there are tables too, along with a selection of drinks and even a makeshift bar to accommodate a certain bartender.
Everything leads up to the centrepiece of the set-up: at the head of the clearing is a large, gnarled oak tree, its ancient branches left undecorated. It seemed disrespectful to dress something so ancient and noble. In its shadow is a table with three unlit candles and everything else needed for the ceremony itself.
And it’s there that Diarmuid waits along with the witch overseeing things. Dressed in pure white with a simple wreath of twisted silver atop his head and standing tall and proud, he makes for a striking groom. A closer look will reveal the impatience in his body language, the eagerness in his eyes as the last of his nerves burn away. Somehow, he thought he’d just be consumed by memories of his past life but not so: all he wants is to see his betrothed and swear his love aloud. He wants to wind it around them with those ribbons and tie their hearts together before every person here- no, before the stars overhead and the trees and moon and whatever else might bear witness to it.
And then it’s time and Diarmuid feels his chest tighten. When he next turns, he’s looking at Ciarán and their future is as clear and bright as the smile Diarmuid gives him.
Only a limited number of people are allowed in for this part of the evening. In keeping with their desire for a more private affair, only close friends, Bonded partners and their choice of guests will be around for this.]
ii. Celebrations (Open to CR)
[The majority of guests arrive once the handfasting ceremony is over and each is gifted with a small flower tied with a teal and crimson ribbon. The drinks are flowing, the music is vibrant, and the mild weather and night breeze encourage celebrating well into the early hours. For their part, the two grooms mingle and socialise- one with perfectly honed hosting skills and the other not so much but he’s making an effort- and it’s easy enough to catch a moment with either of them.
What would a wedding be without drink? On Scáthach’s recommendation, Jill is heading up the bar and has an arsenal of alcohol-based weapons at her disposal. Of course, tradition calls for a glass of mead before anything else and it goes down strong and sweet. Getting a few drinks in might even help more reticent guests get into the spirit of things and join the others in dancing at the centre of the clearing. The band that’s been hired plays a mixture of fast paced and slow songs, old and new, and it’ll take a strong will not to get caught up in the atmosphere and pulled into it.
More unusually, though, is that a few hours in, Diarmuid- or was it Berserker? Or someone else altogether?- takes to the floor and, a little tipsily, insists that someone indulge him in a fight. One thing leads to another and any guest might find themselves caught in a punch-up, albeit a good natured one. Like the mead, it’s a matter of tradition, just one that’s left unspoken. It’s a friendly spar more than anything, with challengers receiving another round of booze and a cheer for their efforts regardless of the outcome.]