The odds were against us, but baby here we are...

[nothingsodivine]

[[Forward-dated to Sunday afternoon. Party post. Open to everyone, even if you don't know the happy couple- this is as much a celebration of two years of survival as it is a wedding.]]

The wedding reception is being held at the Grand Ballroom, familiar to some as the same ballroom the Christmas Ball was held a year ago. It's also been decorated

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[elashte]

Elashte is here. Where else would he be?

A marriage is a personal affair, but a marriage between two prominent Riftcomers - one of them the owner of the Conrad Hotel - is doomed to be a political marriage no matter what anyone does, until the issue of Riftcomers is no longer political at all. So he might as well be here, tacitly throwing in his support for Riftcomer naturalization.

And, of course, delivering a wedding gift to the lucky couple. That's tucked neatly in a pocket inside his suitjacket, just waiting.

[smithnjones]

Martha Jones is trying to make her rounds. She's a tiny bit overwhelmed, perfectly capable of handling it. Martha is simply trying to come to grips with the fact that she is someone's wife. Des' wife. It's really happened.

She notices Elashte and walks over to him, smiling widely. The smile still hasn't left her, not all day. The happiness hasn't left her heart either.

"Elashte, thank you for coming," she says. The warmth translates easily to the tone of her voice.

[elashte]

{OOC: askflk A MONTH LATER I SCRAPE UP ENOUGH BRAIN TO REPLY TO THIS. Right. El has a present he needs to give.}

And here's the bride. Elashte can't help but smile - it doesn't seem like so long ago that he was shuttling information about her to the Doctor, with Calisto running rabid through the city and himself still a lowly Poludnica. The city's treated them both well.

"Martha," he greets. "You look absolutely radiant. One would think you had just made First, rather than become married."

[smithnjones]

((OOC: My Martha voice has been epically dead sooo it's all good. I'll scrape her up so we can do this thread, but yeah. I FEEL YA. <3))

It doesn't seem like long ago and at the same time, it feels like a decade to her. She is much better off than she was then by leaps and bounds. There are so many ways that her life could have gone, and she's continuously grateful that this is the way that it went.

Martha laughs softly. "Thank you very much. I hadn't realized I was quite that radiant, but..." She trails off, still smiling. "Thank you. I'm glad you could attend."

[elashte]

{{OOC: WOO. Go us and our braindeath. Frickin' hivebrainfail.}}

"I wouldn't miss it for a coronation," Elashte says, then raises one finger. "I did bring something for the two of you. I hope you don't mind; I didn't leave it on the table with the rest of the offerings..."

One part of it is significantly too large, and the other liable to get lost amongst the wrapped presents. He reaches into his suit and withdraws the envelope, presenting it with a flourish.

"I hope you'll get some use out of it."

Inside are two sets of car keys. Along with a set of photographs indicating a silver sedan which has been decorated and parked outside.

It's a very nice, though not overly ostentatious, car, one with a number of amenities two Riftcomers might find useful - a fully hybrid power system, for example. And a built-in first-aid kit between the front seats. And bulletproof windows and windshields.

[smithnjones]

"No, I certainly don't mind at all," Martha says, reaching for the envelope. She has no idea what to expect. He hopes that they'll get some use out of something small enough to fit in an envelope? It's beyond her ability to even guess right now.

Martha opens up the envelope and becomes speechless when she pulls out the car keys. She opens her mouth to respond, but there are no words quite yet. These are keys to a car. Martha looks through the pictures in the envelope and then shakes her head.

"I-I don't..."

She clears her throat, sliding the pictures back into the envelope but keeping the keys in her hand.

"When I found out people wanted to bring gifts, I expected crock pots." Martha slides a picture out of the envelope again to have another look, as if it has somehow changed. "This is not a crock pot."

Martha looks up at him. She will find words. She really will, but there is a beautiful car waiting in the parking lot for her. There's excitement mingling with her shock. She keeps shaking her head in disbelief and bouncing on