Its Hour Come 'Round at Last
Date: May 16th, evening
Location: The Ballroom on the first floor
Status: Public! (wear your formals! :D)
Summary: The actual Dinner!
Its Hour Come Round at Last
Raphael couldn't help the blush that reddened his cheeks as he straightened his tie and for the hundredth time messed around with the cuff links on his sleeves. It had been a very long time since he had worn a suit, but this was special. Besides, the man who sold it to him had been more than willing to part with the solid white garment (and even tailored it for wings, though he never figured out why).
He had already delivered all the invitations this morning; slipping them beneath the doors before shuffling off with Aziraphale to cook the food.
Except one.
Belial's envelope sat atop the dresser, his name, written in neat calligraphy, seemed to stare ominously back at him.
The Crown supremely terrified him, to the point where he spent the night practically cowering behind Michael. But this was supposed to be a nice dinner, a thank you to his new family, and it simply did not feel right not to invite him.
Sighing he straightened his bow-tie and shook his hair out of its braid, letting the crimson streams tumble over his shoulders. Well, here goes... He knew people might not come on such short notice, but it was the thought that counts.
He picked up the envelope and left his room. Taking another deep breath he slipped the envelope beneath Belial's door. Straightening his tie again he turned and made his way to the Ballroom.
((•))
Location: The Ballroom on the first floor
Status: Public! (wear your formals! :D)
Summary: The actual Dinner!
Its Hour Come Round at Last
Raphael couldn't help the blush that reddened his cheeks as he straightened his tie and for the hundredth time messed around with the cuff links on his sleeves. It had been a very long time since he had worn a suit, but this was special. Besides, the man who sold it to him had been more than willing to part with the solid white garment (and even tailored it for wings, though he never figured out why).
He had already delivered all the invitations this morning; slipping them beneath the doors before shuffling off with Aziraphale to cook the food.
Except one.
Belial's envelope sat atop the dresser, his name, written in neat calligraphy, seemed to stare ominously back at him.
The Crown supremely terrified him, to the point where he spent the night practically cowering behind Michael. But this was supposed to be a nice dinner, a thank you to his new family, and it simply did not feel right not to invite him.
Sighing he straightened his bow-tie and shook his hair out of its braid, letting the crimson streams tumble over his shoulders. Well, here goes... He knew people might not come on such short notice, but it was the thought that counts.
He picked up the envelope and left his room. Taking another deep breath he slipped the envelope beneath Belial's door. Straightening his tie again he turned and made his way to the Ballroom.
((•))