wedding reception, with magic chocolates - open to all

[estebanmd.livejournal.com]

The Great Hall has been decorated in Ravenclaw colors, as both bride and groom belong to Ravenclaw house. At every place at every table is a small gift bag, Ryuuji's idea for wedding favors: each one contains a little stuffed aardvark holding a pillow with the couple's names and the date embroidered on it in tiny precise stitches, a packet of flavored gelatin and a tiny flask of vodka for the making of Evil Clown Repellant, and a stick-on transfer tattoo of the Chinese ideogram for 'happiness'. There's a vast buffet table at one end of the hall, flanked by a huge punch bowl and a huger wedding cake (red velvet cake, of course). And, somewhere amid the other buffet offerings, there is a quite attractive array of fine chocolates. If you ask any of the wedding planners where they had procured the chocolates, they'll tell you to ask one of the other wedding planners. In reality, the chocolates have been provided by no one involved in the party planning at all. Tucked under the chocolates and hidden by the decorations is a hand-written note, in a plain envelope that looks rather like a small white napkin.

A small sign outside the Hall lets people know this is the Tam-Maturin wedding reception and it's open to the whole school. There was originally a plan to distribute fliers of some sort, or more exorbitantly to owl everyone at the school. Unfortunately, the drafted invitations got somehow mixed up with the invitations Ryuuji had designed for Stephen's bachelor party, and Stephen refused to countenance the sending of invitations bearing the likeness of Immodestly Hot Homsar. Word of mouth would have to be good enough. Besides, most people eat in the Great Hall anyhow.

(( As with previous magic-chocolates RPs, the effects of each chocolate are up to the mun of the character who eats it. Have fun! ))

Comments

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

Carrie quickly came back with two glasses of scotch, two glasses of firewhisky and a gift bag from which she pulled the little bottle of vodka.

"There. Best I can do," she said, and two more soap bubbles appeared in midair.

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

Valentine quickly downs all four glasses and the little bottle and waits to see if anything happens. Nothing seems to. "Oh god, I'm sober!"

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

Carrie stares at him a moment. "How is that even possible?"

And now there's a cascade of soap bubbles following her words. She closes her eyes, opens them again: bubbles, still just floating there.

"Valentine? Did you, ahh, do anythin' to the food?"

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

"I haven't a fucking clue," he says, very nearly yelling. "And no, I didn't do anything. I was waiting for the opportune moment but it never came." He's on the verge of panic now. "What the hell am I supposed to do now? And what the fuck are those bubbles?"

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

Carrie put up a finger and popped one. "I think - I think they're from me. Valentine, all I've done since I got here is eat a li'l bit - what have you had to eat or drink? Maybe we can pin it down." She waved a hand to clear the accumulation of bubbles in front of her face, and they scattered.

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

"I had a little bit of chocolate and cake while I was watching the table." Oh dear, had someone spiked the food? Somehow, it wasn't nearly as funny when it was happening to him. He resolves to spike the first large get-together the school has after he's back to normal in revenge.

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

"I had chocolate, but no cake. So that's gotta be it." She waves away still more bubbles. "Maybe the groom can find us an antidote? He's the potions master, right?"

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

"The only antidote I needs is about ten more of these--" he pulls out another paper twist-- "freebased directly into my aorta. I suspect you just need to wash your mouth out with copious amounts of water. Did it just get very cold in here?"

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

"Or just t'stop talkin'," Carrie replies, and sits down next to him. The cloud of bubbles follows. "That was my best shot, though. An' no, I feel fine - just bubbly."

Then she thinks about the talk she and Dr. Fraser once had about shock. I was so cold, an' so tired... "Y'know, maybe the hospital might not be such a bad idea? They got drugs there..."

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

Much as he hates to admit it, a trip to the Hospital Wing might be for the best. If he had been home on Golgotha, he would have had all his medical equipment and staff at hand, but in this primitive place? He has no desire to be a corpse again.

"Yes, I think I'll do that." He staggers to his feet, dismayed at how unsteady his legs are and fuming that everything looks and feels so normal. "Good luck with your bubbles, I suppose."

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

Carrie rises and puts out a hand to steady him. "You okay t'walk? I can keep you company if you like."

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

"Thank you, but I'm sure I'll be fine momentarily." He won't show any more weakness than he already has, dammit.

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

Carrie just nods, soap bubbles bobbing along with her. God knows pride was a scarce enough commodity in her old life.

[damien-thorn.livejournal.com]

"Why Mr. Valentine, you look positively ill," Damien said, coming into the party just in time to catch this sight for sore eyes. It's a testament to his acting skills that his proclamation doesn't sound like he's announcing a cure for cancer. "Would you like a hand getting there?"

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

"Up jumps the devil," Carrie mutters disgustedly. A few more soap bubbles pop into existence with the statement.

[damien-thorn.livejournal.com]

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Damien replied smugly.

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

Yes, this would make his day complete, wouldn't it? He smiles, a wide and obviously false one. "It's nothing, I assure you. And how are you this fine day? Would you care for some refreshments?" He hopes that if dear Mr. Thorne doesn't choke on them, he will at least do something entertaining like turn into a leprous wombat or something.