Narrative: Miss Manners just doesn't cover this. ((the day and night of the 9th))
((I'm sorry I disappeared right when there was all this plot for Morty to react to. Real Life has been doing that thing it does. Bleh.))
Tomorrow his wife is going to marry another man. This is probably one of the strangest things Mortimer has ever had to deal with, even without the fact that the other man is Captain Hook.
This morning, he had picked up his wedding present to Ali and James: a printed, pieced, embroidered, and collaged fabric wall-hanging depicting a fantastical sailing ship and a lush coastline. It somehow reminded him of neither Bermuda nor his childhood ideas of Neverland. The artist was a local Boston student, he wondered if the fae knew her.
He also picked up the clothes he planned to wear to the wedding: well-fitted trousers, a light grey shirt with a slightly piratical cut, and a green and silver waist-coat designed to evoke, but not mimic, the showy men's fashions of the 18th century. The wedding was on a pirate ship, after all; he might as well dress appropriate to the setting. The clothes were from a Nexus tailor of course. He was too paranoid to let someone from his new homeworld scrutinize his body and proportions.
After he returned home he hung the clothes from the hook on his door and stashed the present is his closet. It still felt strange to be hiding things behind a door that was merely closed and not locked.
He had to go buy wrapping paper, and get enough sleep to be presentable tomorrow. That left a lot of time on his hands.
He decided to spend some of it in the gym he frequented in the Nexus. There was a a huge, cheerful, armadillo-plated trainer there who would spar with him at the drop of a hat. He figured it was healthy to get his ass kicked every so often. Kept him sharp. Kept him humble.
********************************************
After getting thoroughly re-acquainted with the gym mats he went into the gym's infirmary to get his bruises erased. He didn't always bother, but he wanted to look civilized tomorrow. The first aid person was a lithe rodent-like being who displayed no outward characteristics of gender. They ran a very Star Trek looking device over his skin and then winked at him. "There ya' go, handsome. Good as new."
He smiled and retreated quickly. The medic flirted with everybody, and Mortimer had no idea how to respond without knowing which team they were batting for.
He made a brief stop for wrapping paper and cards and had a small crisis trying to decide if white was symbolically appropriate. He settled for cream and gold and wondered if there would ever be an age when he could look this situation up in an etiquette book.
Once home, he went immediately to his room to wrap the present, then tucked it into a corner where it would be safe from getting crunched.
The card was a bigger problem. He had no idea what to write. He wanted it to be something that would assure Ali that he was ok with this; the last thing he wanted was for her to feel burdened or conflicted. She got enough of that from everything else in her life. He also wanted to let James know that he was as much a member of the family as he wanted to be.
He set the wedding present card aside for a moment and opened the other card he had bought. This one was just for Ali. In addition to being her and James' wedding, tomorrow was also the one year anniversary of the day he had met her, and he hoped he had found a way to acknowledge that without taking too much of Ali's attention off the wedding.
He remembered that afternoon a year ago. He had actually kind of snapped at Ali during their first conversation. He couldn't imagine doing that today, now that he had seen who she really was.
He quickly finished Ali's card and sealed it before returning to the wedding present card. He stared at the blank paper. Something would come to him.
Tomorrow his wife is going to marry another man. This is probably one of the strangest things Mortimer has ever had to deal with, even without the fact that the other man is Captain Hook.
This morning, he had picked up his wedding present to Ali and James: a printed, pieced, embroidered, and collaged fabric wall-hanging depicting a fantastical sailing ship and a lush coastline. It somehow reminded him of neither Bermuda nor his childhood ideas of Neverland. The artist was a local Boston student, he wondered if the fae knew her.
He also picked up the clothes he planned to wear to the wedding: well-fitted trousers, a light grey shirt with a slightly piratical cut, and a green and silver waist-coat designed to evoke, but not mimic, the showy men's fashions of the 18th century. The wedding was on a pirate ship, after all; he might as well dress appropriate to the setting. The clothes were from a Nexus tailor of course. He was too paranoid to let someone from his new homeworld scrutinize his body and proportions.
After he returned home he hung the clothes from the hook on his door and stashed the present is his closet. It still felt strange to be hiding things behind a door that was merely closed and not locked.
He had to go buy wrapping paper, and get enough sleep to be presentable tomorrow. That left a lot of time on his hands.
He decided to spend some of it in the gym he frequented in the Nexus. There was a a huge, cheerful, armadillo-plated trainer there who would spar with him at the drop of a hat. He figured it was healthy to get his ass kicked every so often. Kept him sharp. Kept him humble.
********************************************
After getting thoroughly re-acquainted with the gym mats he went into the gym's infirmary to get his bruises erased. He didn't always bother, but he wanted to look civilized tomorrow. The first aid person was a lithe rodent-like being who displayed no outward characteristics of gender. They ran a very Star Trek looking device over his skin and then winked at him. "There ya' go, handsome. Good as new."
He smiled and retreated quickly. The medic flirted with everybody, and Mortimer had no idea how to respond without knowing which team they were batting for.
He made a brief stop for wrapping paper and cards and had a small crisis trying to decide if white was symbolically appropriate. He settled for cream and gold and wondered if there would ever be an age when he could look this situation up in an etiquette book.
Once home, he went immediately to his room to wrap the present, then tucked it into a corner where it would be safe from getting crunched.
The card was a bigger problem. He had no idea what to write. He wanted it to be something that would assure Ali that he was ok with this; the last thing he wanted was for her to feel burdened or conflicted. She got enough of that from everything else in her life. He also wanted to let James know that he was as much a member of the family as he wanted to be.
He set the wedding present card aside for a moment and opened the other card he had bought. This one was just for Ali. In addition to being her and James' wedding, tomorrow was also the one year anniversary of the day he had met her, and he hoped he had found a way to acknowledge that without taking too much of Ali's attention off the wedding.
He remembered that afternoon a year ago. He had actually kind of snapped at Ali during their first conversation. He couldn't imagine doing that today, now that he had seen who she really was.
He quickly finished Ali's card and sealed it before returning to the wedding present card. He stared at the blank paper. Something would come to him.