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  Roleplay Log

Wedding Bells, Part I
Submitted 16 November 2003 by Hope.
IC Date:   16 November 2003
Point of View:   Hope
Participants:   Amy, Archangel, Armand, Asia, Brightfeather, Colossus, Cyclops, Geneva, Hope, Katrin, Kris, Lissa, Logan, Magneto, Nightcrawler, Paul, Phoenix, Rhiannon, Trey
Locale:   Old Church, Bronx, New York City
Summary:   All are gathered for the event of the year, the wedding of Geneva and Kris. Come join us for the glorious celebration.

Being short of stature does little to reduce the presence of this broadly-built, intense man. Wide-shouldered and barrel chested, well-developed and fiercely honed muscles accent his frame in abundance, corded contours flowing easily with each of his direct, controlled movements. Thick black hair flows peculiarly from a point in the center of his forehead out to each side, tufting upwards above and behind his ears. The ferally styled mane continues into thick muttonchops down either side of his face, before being shaved or near-shaved across a strong, chiseled chin and sternly expressive face. Thick but defined brows frame alert, knowing eyes of dark brown, the man's features giving him a rough, wild look, though he doesn't appear unhygienic in any way. Thick, dark hair covers his sun-darkened skin where it's visible along his powerful frame, adding to the man's rustic air.
Logan's ensemble tonight is a highly unusual one for the dangerous little man to be seen in. He's wearing a well-tailored, rather formal looking suit, crafted in a tuxedo style, in Bond-esque fashion. A smooth-pressed dress shirt of pristine white covers his barrel chest, several smooth lines running vertically just left of center, presumably buttoning beneath the accented fabric. The garment is buttoned, again abnoramlly, right up to the canuck's thick neck, a black bow-tie tied perfect and straight where it rests below his chin. Formal-cut black slacks are cinched tight about his waist by a belt of black leather, which bears a gleaming silver buckle sometimes apparent behind the length of his jacket, and the perfectly fitted pants run down his legs to meet just over a pair of gloss black leather lace-ups, the shoes a bit more geared for a ballroom than a barroom. Over his broad shoulders, a white jacket is pulled, fitting snugly but comfortably over his impressive physique, buttoned in solitary restraint at the front of his lower abdomen. It's an unusual look for the stern, gruff mutant, but he seems comfortable enough in it. Perhaps appearances can be deceiving, though he's well-known to be at home just about anywhere.

The river of red tresses that flow from Jean's head are swept up and smoothed out into an elegant French Twist, tiny little whisps of of silken delicate hair at the nape of her neck curled about the tender area. Two long sweeping strands of hair spill from the front and come down in front of her ears, negating the need for earrings. A subtle green eyeshadow is is swept into the crease of her lids, blending out wards and upwards into nothingness and accented with the black liner, and her naturally long thick lashes makes her emerald green eyes stand out and sparkle. A rich ruby red tint is swept across her full lips and just a hint of an earthy red blush helps to define her cheekbones.
Dressed for the wonderous occasion, Jean is clad in thin swaths of light blue silk. Her dress is off the shoulder and shows her creamy skin to perfection as well as hint at the swell of her bosom at the moderate scooped neckline. The dress clings to her curvaceous form as it hugs her form down to the knees, a white orchid pinned at the right shoulder. Long legs are shown off and the muscles shaped by the tension provided by the light blue high heels worn on her feet.

There is a tall, thin man standing before you. He is about 6' 3" or so. His light brown hair is cut short with a part running down the right side of his head. The most dominating feature of the man's appearance is the pair of glasses he wears. They are sold red in color from the lenses to the frames. The glasses completely obscure the man's eyes. The rest of his face is somewhat nondescript. His nose is sharp and angular. His mouth is set with small lips and very few laugh lines around the corners of the mouth. His jaw is set and square with a clean shaven face. His body is tall and thin almost to the point of gangly. There are muscle definition in his limbs, but by no means overbearing. He walks with a sense of purpose with no apparent indecision.
He is wearing a well tailored suit. The jacket and pants are a charcoal colar with very faint threads of blue interwoven into the material. The jacket is tapered and narrows into the waist. It is a single breasted jacket, and he has it buttoned. The shirt underneath the jacket is a gleaming white with the collar appearing to be well starched and not turning of even moving. He wears a dark red tie that has bits of gray and black almost melding together as the tie goes down. The pants are pressed and creased with cuffs at the bottom of the legs. He wears highly polished black leather shoes on his feet. The suit does fit him and obviously did not just come off the rack.

With such white, white, skin, most may wonder if she has been sick for some time, kept indoors or bedridden, away from natural sources of light, in order to render her so pale. Her platinum blond hair has been pulled back in a loose Japanese-style bun, held in place by what looks like a pair of black chopsticks, though a few strands of hair drift free. She looks to perhaps be in her early twenties, though she barely tops a full five feet in height and her build is slight and slender, making her appear a few years younger and giving her an almost waifish air. The delicate features of her face are unblemished by any freckles or other markings, though from the stern set of her pale lips, one can easily guess that smiles are a rare occurrence upon her face.
A three-quarter length, scarlet, leather jacket covers her slight frame, cut a bit longer in the back and vaguely reminicent of a pirate's style with long, wide, sleeves laced up the sides in black ribbon through silver rivets. The lapels of the coat are almost nonexistant, the collar high and slightly flared, revealing dark, blood red fishnet stretched across her chest, a low cut black leather bodice keeping her decent. Matching black leather pants fit her legs like a second skin, tucked neatly into the tops of almost knee-high Doc Marten boots. She wouldn't really look that out of place at a typical goth club. A thin band of leather circles her neck, a small black leather rose sprouting from just to the left of her throat, the petals thin and delicately shaped so it seems almost real. Each wrist sports a black leather bracelet, connected to simple silver rings by matching decorative chains. Her hands are covered to the knuckles by a fine mesh of fishnet, continuations of the long sleeves of her shirt.

Long straight dark red hair slips over her shoulders. Eyes once brown and warm in shadow shift with the changing light to smokey green in bright. Pale skin that comes of life lived below the brim of eves and hats shows on a slight and oval face that sometimes flashes a fey smile. Slender, but for there is strength beneath a sleek feminine softness revealing muscle. This is a woman, not a girl. Still, she might be seen as youthful for her slightly diminutive stature and the ease of her long limbs. Hard work has shaped her shoulders and arms, but this is set upon a light frame of birdlike bone. Grace comes with ease to her direct movements. Her stride is sure. It speaks of a purpose that is pure.
A long dark purple evening gown of silk with black velvet rose shaped trim reveals her smooth neck and strong shoulders. Her slender but muscular arms are covered in long black silk evening gloves that taper to her delicate hands. Over her shoulders, a slinky sheer scarf-like shawl of violet lace drifts. At her throat, small bits of topaz shimmer, set inside bands of silver knotwork that end in a tear of the golden stone. Her legs are obscured by the long skirt of the dress, but the black lace leggings she wears beneath it might be glimpsed in a dance or descending a stair. The dress its self hugs her form much like a bustier that shows off her slender body, but is modest about revealing any clevage. On her feet are a pair of ankle high black velvet boots that seem akin to the slopes and curves of the 19th century women's fashion.

You see a man of around 6' tall, with brown hair and... black eyes. Yep, black, shineless eyes. His face is handsome in a rugged sense, but marred by a long, twisted, ugly scar, starting just above his left eyebrow, and ending on his right cheek. He has a medium build, with a look of strength. He's currently dressed in a nice pair of black dress pants, Long-sleeved dress shirt, and a black leather vest. His feet are covered by a pair of shiny, black cowboy boots. Ornamentation is little, limited to a silver pocketwatch hanging from the vest, and a silver crucifix hanging from his neck.

You see... quite a strange sight, indeed. The young man before you has Blue skin, pointed ears, Talon-like claws instead of fingers, cat-like Sapphire blue eyes, and fangs visible whenever he opens his mouth. His waist-length raven-black hair is braided in a thick braid, and tied down with leather chord. As far as clothing... He's wearing buckskin clothes, that appear to be handmade. They're covered with intricate Native American designs. His clawed feet are left bare. Despite his grotesque appearance, the young man has a pleasant demeanor, and smiles often.

Before you is a hulk of a man. He must be close to seven feet tall with large broad shoulders and a wide chest. His arms and legs are thick and muscular. His hair is black in color and cut short along the sides with a bit more length on top. It is parted down one side and brushed over. His skin is fair and his eyes are a clear blue. His nose is small and angular. His mouth is small with thin lips. His thick neck leads down into the huge body.
He is wearing a suit although the jacket alone could probably cover half of the other X-Men. The suit and jacket are black in color. Fastened on the lapel of the jacket is a single gold star. The jacket is double breasted so as to fully encompass his large chest, however the jacket does seem to have been fitted and is not too tight. His shirt is white with no signs of wrinkles. He wears a crimson red tie that fades into deep purples as it goes down the tie. His pants are pressed with a slight crease along the front and cuffs at the end of the pants leg. His shoes are black leather and polished.

Warren stands before you looking like a hybrid GQ ad and mutant poster boy. Decked out in a custom Armani black label, single breasted tuxedo (that allows for his wings to frame him from behind), bow tie and matching black Kenneth Cole shoes. His hair is neatly slicked back to reveal his chisled looks and crystal blue eyes. Most notably, he wears an ear to ear grin.

The little girl before you looks to be around the age of a first grader. She is a scrawny little runt that barely peeks three feet tall and may only weigh thirty or so pounds. Besides her size, the major strange think about her is the fact she has dull green skin tone and her eyes are a nice soft brown. Her hair, however, is a dark honeyed blonde, falling in untamed waves down her back. Two braids start at the front, interlaced with silk baby's breath ad follow her head to meet at the back, mingling into the rest of her hair. A few strands frame the girl's face and fall to her chest in the front. She is devoid of makeup and jewelry, her white flowergirl dress glamming it up enough.
The flower-girl's dress is an adorable affair and comes very close to matching Geneva's dress. The bodice is spaghetti-strapped and satin, falling to Asia's waist. It is adorned with clear bugle beads at the neckline. The floor length skirt is tulle layered over satin, with various beadwork designs in sequins and pearls on the tulle overskirt. At the hem, where her ballet-slippered feet peek out, is re-embroidered lace. The little girl looks simply adorable.

As you look over this woman, the first thing that pops out at you is her quite short, but still feminine, glossy green hair, which is now curled and pulled back at the sides. Her almond shaped, violet shadowed green eyes meet yours boldly from behind wispy cut bangs. From her earlobes dangle a pair of rose-shaped earrings. Her face is a very pale green tint, with high cheekbones and her full emerald green lips seem to somehow fit in just right. As your gaze travels over the rest of her body, you see that there isn't much to her. Perhaps she has the figure of a dancer, or a model. Regardless of the answer, her figure, coupled with the way she moves, can only be described as willowy.
Tonight, Amy seems to be going for Simple Classy. She wears a white sheath dress with an empire-cut waist, adding to the impression of her height. Delicate spaghetti-thin straps frame a wide white ribbon choker about her neck, and go down to meet a satin bodice, and the A-line skirt consists of a satin base, crepe falling atop it. Plain white pumps peek from under the hemline. Her gloves are white as well. It is nearly frightening, the effect.

The majority of Hope's blonde locks are pulled and off her neck, exposing the long slender white of her skin where a thin choker of pearls encircle her neck. Loosely curled and coiffed curls loop down around her face where green eyes twinkle. Light and tasteful make-up has been applied to accentuate her features: a faint lavender tint on her eyelids making the green of her eyes stand out more, a rosey pinkish glow about the apples of her cheeks, and a light pink gloss on her lips.
Simple elegance, her lithe figure is clad in a simple white silk sheeth dress, no doubt from a top desinger. No embellishments mar the simplicity of the dress as the thin spagetti straps dance down to the fitted bodice that flows down to the floor, being loosely fitted to her curves. A pair of Mahnolo's grace her feet. The white toes peeking out from under the dress and adding about 2 inches to her height with the thin high heels. A faint fragrance of white flowers, such as lily of the valley and orchids linger in the air near her. ( - first pic on the page)

Silver. That is the first thing that draws a person's attention to him. His hair is a light silver color. The odd thing is, it's natural, no dyes. His ice blue eyes are piercing as they seem to take in every detail of his surroundings. His face has filled out now that he's been able to eat on a regular basis. It is full, and brimming with teenage vitality. He's not as pale as he was, but he could still use some color.
Today he wears a formal black tuxedo. A blood red vest covers his dark dress shirt, while the tuxedo coat covers the vest. He even wears *gasp* a tie! He wears a pair of silver cufflinks on his coat sleeves while his black dress shoes shine...he had them cleaned for once.

A thick mane of silver-white hair hangs across Magneto's head in long, fluid waves, flowing gracefully to mid-back and occasionally drifting in floating strands about the man's face. His face is noble, stern. Austere facial structure and strong lines usher forth clearly defined culture, crisp and imposing. His eyes are the clearest ice-blue, wintery and alert, his gaze carrying a composed intellect, adding a depth that even his unusual appearance cannot convey. Self-assured and inherently confident, deep with experience and insight. His body is remarkably tall and muscular, toned and honed well beyond the norm, full of vitality and power. He might be passed off as simply arrogant, or overconfident, though only the inobservent would pass off the aura of an idealist twice his apparent age.
A pristinely, masterfully tailored tuxedo of exemplary italian design garbs the Master of Magnetism crisply in perfectly fitted formality. A jacket of ink black rests over his broad shoulders, hanging over smoothly flowing black slacks, which run to gloss leather shoes, equally dark, though with that shine to them that rivals new. The leatherworking is, on close inspection, quite intricate, twining shapes and scrollwork. Beneath the jacket, Magnus wears a sleek shirt of purest, newfallen snow white, buttoned in ornate silver, onyx-centered buttons up the entirety of his muscular chest to fit snugly around the silver-haired mutant's neck, the shirt is closed by a black bowtie, tied cleanly and evenly, and surrounded by a vest of fine silks, a fluidly weaving but not overly 'busy' pattern of dark, regal purples. A pair of cufflinks, onyx and silver, match the buttons and adorn each sleeve of the jacket, along with a wristwatch in silver or platinum encircling his left wrist. Magneto's platinum mane is restrained behind his head, an inch-wide band of glimmering silver holding the ponytail in place near to his neck.

You see a young man of perhaps seventeen years. His shoulder length auburn hair shimmers in waves of smooth silk with every subtle breeze. His riveting dark eyes glitter brilliantly from an angelic yet stone-like pale statuesque face. His youthful yet rich velvet voice issues from perfectly bowed lips that barely move when he speaks, but his stark, sharp smile can appear suddenly. The boyish features are seamless, but his manner and intensity belong to the ages.
He is in black, from knotted tie of velvet to polished leather boot. The cut of his clothing is tailored closely to his form, revealing his slim shape. The shirt is obviously silk, a vest of velvet brocade. The only flash of color is a tiny garnet set in silver to hold his tie in place.

When you look at him, the words demon, or devil may spring to mind. His skin is a bluish color, but at closer examination its not skin, it's a fine indigo colored fur. The dark fur and his close connection with the dimension known as Darkforce, give him an almost shadowy appearance. Even in direct sunlight his face seem to be shrouded in shadows. If the fur wasn't unsettling enough, his eyes are even worse. Being devoid of pupils, has given him an almost hellish stare, which is hard to meet eye to eye. The other interesting fact about his eyes are they glow, a bright luminescent yellow color. His ears are pointed almost like what you would imagine an elf's to look like. If he smiles, his canine's look like fangs. As we move to his hands and feet, they get even stranger. His hands only have three fingers, including opposable thumbs, on each hand. His feet have two toes at the front, and a third at his heel. The toes and fingers are much much larger than a normal humans, but then nothing about this mutant is relatively normal. At the base of his tail bone, is a long prehensile tail that is about 3ft long, that ends in a pointed tip. If he stood to his full height, he would about 5'9", but sadly he rarely stands tall, preferring to hunch over.
For the rare occasions, he will don his priestly garb. Nothing fancy, a long black robe that covers his body. A silk purple scarf type thing is drapped around his neck and he carries a bible in his hand.

Standing at about 5'9 and just over 200lbs, Kris looks to be not much more than an average young adult. His dark brown eyes carry a strange curious, yet experienced look - all too often it is mistaken for a look of sadness. His hair is black but is different than it has been - his hair is longer, the tips of his bangs occasionally falling over an eye or brushing the bridge of his nose.
Today is Kris' most special of days, his muscular figure enclosed comfortably in that of a a traditional black tuxedo, underneath a collared white shirt fastened nice and neatly by a a black tie. At his wrists are silver cufflinks which don't appear to normally come with the tuxedo but compliment it all the same.'ProductCode','JK960')

Tonight, Geneva has been transformed from petite little nothing of a girl, to a blushing bride. Her face is made up in such a way that it's nearly impossible to tell... but she looks somehow different. Her chocolate brown eyes are framed by dark lashes and shaded with a champagne color. There is a blush that is no cosmetic upon her cheeks and her lips are a glossy nude color. Her red-brown curls have been accentuated, making them actually look like curls, instead of a mess. At either side of her head, starting above each ear, tiny french braidsmoves back through her curls to where she's got part of them tucked up. She looks almost like a little doll. Her wings are in full view, and sprayed over with a hint of silver glitter hairspray. In her hands is a bouquet of simple silk daisies. She could be talked into nothing else.
A vision in white, Geneva practically glows today. Thin double straps drape elegantly over her shoulders and down to the small of her back, allowing plenty of room for the lustrus white wings that sprout from her back, making her look like a true angel. The fitted princess cut bodice adds to the grace and allure of the dress, scooping in the front allowing a thin silver necklace that holds a small silver unicorn and a smal silver vial, and a simple white satin ribbon choker to be displayed. At the cinched waist of the dress, the skirt flows out fuller in soft layers of thin chinz and silk. The train is nearly non-existant and falls only slightly longer in the back, adding to the elegance of the gown, hiding the small white satin pumps on her feet though a soft jingle sound from her anklette can be heard amidst the soft rustle of the dress as she walks. A simple solitary diamond ring rests on her left ring finger. (


The church has been decorated with white gauzy material framing the aisle Kris and gen are to walk. Where the gauzy material is fastened to the pews hangs a grouping of three or four white silk roses. christmas lights entertwine themselves throughout the gauze. The area of the pulpit is decorated as well, with pots of fresh daisies, donated by one of Geneva's party. Who won't admit it under pain of death. It is simplistic decoration, but doesn't look bad.

Scott walks into the church slowly. He looks about at the decorations for a moment before one of the ushers walks up to him and asks, "Bride or groom?" Scott turns his attention to the usher and replies, "Both actually." The usher simply takes a step to one side and gestures toward the pews with a sweep of his arm. "Take a seat any where, sir."

The sound of a Motorcycle can be heard from the parking lot... Loud pipes... Must be a Harley. Soon entering, is a young man with a nasty Facial scar, wearinga pair of sunglasses, and a slightly younger Native American young man, in a nice suit... Who promptly deactivates his iinducer watch, and is left with a blue, leathery looking Mutant dressed in traditional Native American Garb. The older of the two removes his sunglasses, revealing his all-black eyes. He looks back to the one who came in with him, and smiles... When they get asked by the Usher, both reply 'Bride'... htough, from one of them, it sounds more like 'Brahd'. Trey and Brightfeather are shown to seats in the Bride's section, near the front.

Piotr walks into the church looking slightly uncomfortable. Communism may have fallen in his home country, but he was still raised an Atheist. As the usher asks, "Bride or groom?" Piotr jumps slightly and looks at the young man with a strange expression. "I think it should be perfectly clear that I am neither." He walks past the suprised looking young man and takes a seat down in the pews near Scott.

Logan sits with Jean on whichever side looked to be the least crowded. Far as he can figure, he's not here for one more than the other. But tradition is funny that way. Now, he just sits as still as he can, which is fairly calm save the meandering consideration of his dark eyes, which sweep the church thoughtfully and seem apt to repeat the panorama every few minutes. The canuck's face is similar to his apparent demeanor, impassive, observant, and patient. It takes zen calm to sit in a room with overdressed people and listen to organ music for however long this shindig takes to get started. Deep breath. There.

Running (or is that flying) late, Warren lands in front of the church and trots to the front door to be received. "I'm friends with both bride and groom...but birds of a feather...I'd like to sit on Genny's side." Warren quietly enters and heads for the side aisle (avoiding the center) to take a seat near the front of the church. As he goes, he winks, smiles and or waves discreetly to his pals assembled

Escorting Geneva's mother to the front of the church is Armand. His dark formal clothing is not out of place at a wedding, though he has chosen to come entirely in black, seeming almost too somber for the festive night. The mother of the bride is resplendant in her colorful dress of bright florals. She seems at once emensely happy and sad. The expression is not far from the one Armand is wearing on his usually unreadable features. Geneva's mother is not terribly tall, so even though Armand is not a tall young man, this does not seem too unevenly matched.

As Geneva's mother strides up the aisle with Armand, she smiles. This is a joyous occasion. She pauses at the appropriate point and gives Armand a warm kiss on the cheek before taking the matron of honor position.

Kris stands up to the side of the altar, speaking quietly with Kurt, trying to calm his nerves. As the crowd starts to make their way into the church to seat themselves, he sweeps the audience with his eyes momentarily, glad to see such a good turn out, a little lacking so far on his side of the church but Kris quickly puts it out of his mind. The young mutant's eyes shine with a joy that has never been seen from him before, his hands tensing nervously at his sides. On the inside, it feels like something is trying to eat it's way out of his stomach but he quickly wills the uneasiness away as he spots the wedding party starting to make it's way down the aisle

Hope listens to the music in the front of the church, just waiting for the cue to start. She looks back at Geneva and flashes a bright large smile to her, trying ot keep from crying. She's just so beautiful today, looking like a true angel in all that white and the wings and...oh it's just so beautiful. Oh and there it is. She takes Magnus' arm as the doors open to allow them into the chapel and begin the proceedings. She glances to the man and smiles as she looks out at the crowd, dabbing at her eyes with the hand that holds the small bouquet of three silk daisy's before they start down the aisle.

Continued in Part II.