PHD #217: EVENT - A Two-for-One Special

A Two-for-One Special

Summary:	Marko Scaurus and Raine Lunair's wedding ceremony, with the added announcement of Psyche Athenos and Alex Devlin's moment of hitching.
Date:	01 Oct 2041 AE
Related Logs:	Anything involving Lunair x Marko and Psyche x Devlin, and their wedding ceremonies. Due South details what happened with Quinn, Trask, and Ulixes after they left the reception.

Players:

Somewhere on Aerilon, Most Likely Just Outside Ewe Aerilon
See Below
Post-Holocaust Day: #217

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It's a lovely Aerilonian day, the sun mild and beaming with a golden smile. There's a soft breeze that ruffles fabrics and stirs flowers. Today! Is a wedding and afterparty for at least two couples. Folks are milling about the offered tents set up for shade with open sides. Chairs are set out, some beneath shade, others beneath sun - for choice. The decor isn't too lavish, largely flowers and wreaths with a few strings of beads. There's refreshment tables set out within walking distance (Mindful of the pregnant and young) with deer meat freshly prepared several ways, some fresh salad and veggies, punch, even a bit of rum and wine alongside the usual moonshine. It's not /the biggest/ feast ever, but pretty good fare all things considered. In lieu of a cake, a few pies have been set out and decorated, likely to ease stress on flour stocks. But - fresh pie is pretty awesome, especially given the lovingly cared for fruit.

There's an atmosphere of happiness and the warming up of a party. Preparations are finally finishing. Soon!

Quinn loves Marko and Lunair, despite all that is going on, so she's actually gotten into the best maternity dress that Trask and Evandreus found for her, washed and combed out her red hair, and is now stepping into the area, trying to look like she isn't a complete zombie at the moment, even if she is. She's approaching next to a remarkably dapper looking, nice smelling Trask at the moment, his dress greys complimenting her white and red quite nicely. If people didn't know better, they might be a prim and proper military man and his army-base wife out for a stroll. She's tried to smile, but it's just not happening. So she stands, totally neutral, letting him lead the way. He's almost having to remind her to walk…

Devlin is here, in a grey suit with a claret-clad Psyche on his arm, and having checked in to see whether there are any last minute tasks they can help with, they now mill around a bit, taking in the scenery and the preparations, looking it all over. "Pie!" the nugget exclaims suddenly, just a bit louder than he probably intended as he points to said baked goods on the buffet table. He grins, "Man, this is going to be awesome," and then leads the way along the table towards the edge of the tent, where they can get back out in the sun while given the chance.

Cidra is in her dress grays. If she owns any sort of civilian clothing that might be appropriate for an affair such as this, she has not displayed it ever. Her own expression is slightly more…not relaxed precisely, but she seems in a better mood than she has in past weeks. The slight lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth are still a bit deeper than they perhaps were not so long ago, but her cloudy blue eyes are bright and the faintest of smiles plays upon her lips. She is here to celebrate good times.

Last second wardrobe adjustments are given to Lysander, by way of his reaching up to the front of his collar and fixing its posture as it rests over his neck. He's walking with a small group of marines, most likely from his squad, and with dressed fancily enough he heads into the mass of people and festivities. They split up for whatever reasons. He has a small box designated newlywed gift tucked underneath his left arm, and his left hand tucked into a front pocket on that side. "Note to self," is murmured to, well, himself, "Try not to insult anyone tonight. Anything else is fair game." He's playing things solo tonight, and now in search of a commanding officer, which means meandering carefully through tents.

One of those people dressed in suits that's present at the moment would be Malone, who walks into the area a bit slowly as he looks around. "Not too bad, all this," he comments, mostly to himself as he looks around the area now.

"Pie? Where?!" Psyche perks up suddenly, peering around, then dissolving into giggling. Is she mocking the gentleman so gallantly escorting her? Why, yes. Yes, she is. She hugs Devlin's arm and leans up to kiss his cheek. But she is, perhaps, at least a little interested in pie. "What kind of pie?" Big blue eyes roam over the crowd with bright interest. Maggie and Cidra are waved to enthusiastically, each in their turn.

Damon's always up for a good party. He doesn't really know Marko or Lunair, but he's here to celebrate their wedding regardless, all done up in his dress grays. "Hey, this seems nice," he murmurs to himself as he walks about, checking out the venue. Maybe he expected something a lot shabbier? He mingles here and there, playing the social butterfly, quickly catching up with people he knows.

Even after all these months integrated with the crew, Sawyer still feels like an outsider on certain occasions. This happens to be one of them. A wedding is a social event, where gaggles of friends or a romantic couple usually RSVP to with some solidarity. Who invited the reporter? At least she's not sporting a steno pad or voice recorder. Sawyer mills in with some late arrivals, wearing a pleasant smile to match her pleasant attire. It's not often she breaks out a skirt or dress from her repertoire, but nuptials seemed a good excuse as any.

Yes, Kal Trask is in his Dress Grays. This might take a moment to register for several people because, really, the man sure as frak cleans-up hella nice. A BSG O.G. on the cover of GQ hella nice. One who is escorting his pregnant out-of-wedlock, redheaded, farmgirl step-sister, albeit, but that just makes it more gangsta. "Here's a good spot," he quietly tells Maggie, before setting up a folding chair for her that is emblazoned with the blue, red, and gold colors and team emblem of the Aerilon Avengers pyramid team, which the West Aerilon Colonial Emporium had in-stock.

The department head of the bride, like the department head of the groom, is also wearing dress grays. Finding herself in an eerily similar situation as the CAG (whether she owns civvies and is unwilling to wear them, or just doesn't have any remains to be seen), Madilyn is present in the dress uniform issued to her by the Colonial Fleet what feels like ages ago at this point. Never many happy opportunities to wear this one, so, why the hell not wear it! Sure it's stuff and kind of awful and not at all flattering to the figure, but…well, that's beside the point. The marine CO is down here and seems to be all smiles, enjoying the fine weather and the celebration at hand.

There's cherry, some blackberry and likely a citrusy experimental sort of pie. There's other snacks about, thoughtfully - most are finger foods. Even party crashers seem welcome, a gentle reminder of old times. Drinks are being poured by volunteers, although some is self serve too. There's a spot for gifts, although it's apparent presence is enough. Even civilians are welcomed, as soon a be-dressed figure emerges to greet people. It's apparent Lunair used to be upper class, though much of her mannerisms have shifted to a more Officerly demeanor. She even hasn't worn heels since … a while. She greets people politely in passing, making sure no one stays out in the sun too long. Sawyer gets a warm greeting, "Hello there." She smiles. There might even be a few folks with cameras roving about. "I am glad you came out. There's drinks and such if you like," She offers. She's a friendly face, though it's apparent she's not quite used to a big gathering. "A Sister should be about soon," She nods. She seems pleased by the turnout and manages to get to folks.

She doesn't really have anything appropriate for a wedding, but Astra has dressed herself in a blue jumper-dress with a green blouse underneath, and a pair of argyle socks. Her shoes have been cleaned and polished as best as they can be, and her long hair has been brushed until it shines. She is carrying a baby carrier in one hand and an instrument case in another. a backpack is tossed over one shoulder. Other than the infants, only two of her brood are with her: little four-year-old Petra and seven-year-old Thera, both dressed happily in blouses, cardigans, and bold plaid skirts. Astra looks around, smiling wistfully, then looks up to the sun, just feeling its warmth for a moment before she hunts down a seat.

Cidra spots Madilyn, detouring briefly to greet the Marine Co. "Major Willows-Cavanaugh. Time to see the children safely off, it does seem?" It's said half-wryly, but her tone contains actual fondness. "I am most glad they decided to do this planetside. It is quite…lovely."

If some people would say that not even wild horses could keep them away from something, it would be a bit different for the person walking into the area now. For Samuel it would probably be 'not even wild deer', as he walks into the area, carrying that guitar of his with him. Dressed in a dark shirt as well as a light gray dinner jacket and matching trousers for now. He's even done a bit of an effort to tame his hair a bit better than usually. Looking around at the people present for the moment.

Rose, following after Madilyn a few feet and managing to navigate well enough without someone leading her by the arm, has cleaned up remarkably well for someone who relies on the salvaged clothing and supplies and hand-me-downs from other survivors. She looks up towards the sun, smiling at the warmth on her face, and breathing in the air. Whitestick striking what resounds like a chair leg, the blind woman slows, and her hand reaches out to feel the back of the chair. "I'll sit here, thank you, Major," is what she says - apparently to Madilyn.

A few weeks ago Ulixes was crouching in the scrub trying to catch and devour a wildebeest, now he is not only wearing 'finery' of a sort but food has been laid out for him. Well, not just for him but he can partake of some of it. Maybe. He's not sure he even knows the bride or groom, but putting faces to names and vice versa was never his forte. For now, he mills about shifting from foot to foot and trying to scratch and itch on his back by only rolling his shoulders from side to side and pulling faces.

Quinn blinks slightly to her handsome-as-can-be 'date', even if he's her brother in everything but blood and no romantic interest what so ever. Other than being pregnant, it very much seems Margaret Quinn doesn't have -any- romantic interests these days. She blinks back towards Kal, and then the chair, nodding quietly. "Yeah…. sitting… probably a good idea." It's the most words she's said to him in a while. And, a moment later, she does gingerly lower herself down into the chair. She makes it all but the last few inches before plopping ungracefully, getting to the pregnant enough stage where sitting isn't a graceful gesture.

Bran is chilling out near the pie, since he's currently eating some. It is pretty frakkin' amazing too for what it's worth and the ECO contents himself with lingering around there rather than being something of a social butterfly. He's polite though. When familiar faces show up, nearly everyone at the wedding, he takes a moment to greet and casually speak with them. The Junior Lieutenant is dressed sharply in his grays and smells rather decent, accented further by his smile.

Devlin pulls a face at Psyche's mockery, but points out anyways, "Right there, pie! And I have no idea what kind," he admits, swinging their path back over to the table so he can peer at the pies and try to suss it out. "Hmm. That one looks like it could be cherry?" he suggests, "Or something red. And that's gotta be blackberry, or maybe blueberry. Dunno," he admits, "But they're pie! So I will be eating them and liking it." He smiles and winds their way away from the table again, the path he takes, designed primarily to weave in and out of the sunny spots, takes them over towards Sawyer, and he lifts a hand and smiles, greeting the reporter, "Hey there."

Of course, on the one day that it matters most, the usually very punctual Marko Scaurus finds himself late to his own wedding. Quickly, and hopefully unnoticed by those present he races in his flight suit from where his Raptor set down to one of the tents, suit bag flapping behind him like a wide, fake leather tail.

Rose is helped into her seat by Madilyn's arm, should she need something to take ahold of while she gets the seat under her. Following that, Cidra is noticed and Madilyn nods. "I'm left to question if my own father felt this way, giving me away," she replies to Cidra, unable to contain her smile. "Yes, this weather is absolutely lovely. Beautiful colony, this. Despite the tragedy brought on by the Cylons, not even they had the heart to destroy this beauty, to alter the weather, or take away the sunlight."

"You'll look totally frakking adorable with a middle-aged spare tire," Psyche pats Devlin's middle, where pie will doubtless provide opportunities for expansion. She follows his eyes and his greeting, bright and sunny smile turning a little awkward when it lights on Sawyer Averies. Her eyes skitter off to the side, then a deep breath, and she turns her attention back to the reporter, lifting a hand to deliver a sunny wave. From the corner of her eye — attention span of a gnat — she spies a vision in white working the crowd, and she squeaks. "LooklooklookLunieinthedress!" she gasps, swooning over the bride. "Oh, isn't she gorgeous?"

"Major Hahn," Rose greets Cidra from her seat, smiling and restraining her usual enthusiasm. "I know Miss Lunair only in passing, and I don't know her betrothed-to-be… but I'm just so happy for them both. It's a good portent, and good for morale, to celebrate something like this during dark times. Poseidon is finally giving back to us. I'm so very grateful." And, as the water works are likely going to start at some point, she produces a folded handkerchief from the small unmatched bag at her shoulder. "I always cry at weddings," she sniffles.

Sawyer returns Lunair's smile and greeting with one of her own, keeping her voice pitched low in conversation. "Thank you for having me. It's a lovely gathering, and I haven't had time to convey my congratulations so…" Sawyer's smile gets a bit cheeky, "…congratulations. You look wonderful." She then does the polite thing and steps back to let the bride receive other guests. She turns, lifting a hand to tuck of wheat blonde behind her ear, in time to catch the greeting by Devlin. Sawyer flickers a little finger wave in his direction that seems to pause momentarily (perhaps cognizant of Psyche's own discomfiture) and then falls off completely. At least the journalist manages a slightly apologetic smile, and then turns in quite the opposite direction to find somewhere to sit.

Astra takes a seat, and settles the carrier beside the chair, within easy earch. Bag goes under the chair. Thera and Petra sit down on the grass, content enough to be back on Aerilon one last time. Once the children are situated, Astra unzips the case and pulls out a lap-harp. She runs her fingers over the strings, checking to see if the tuning has held, then nods to herself. Not knowing even which planet(s) the bride and groom are from, she begins to play a soft Aerilonese air, lilting and sweet.

"There's pie," Trask states the obvious to the now-sitting Quinn. "One of 'em might even be lemon curd… and that one looks like lime." Beat. "Maybe." Another beat. "Want a slice?" Either he hasn't been to many weddings, or the ones he has attended don't save the food for after the ceremony. Seeing how Bran, the other Black Country boy here, is already chowing down, one might be more likely than the other. "How 'bout some punch?"

"Miss Ibbhanas?" Cidra looks half-surprised to see Rose, but pleasantly so. "I am most glad you could attend. This is a joyous occasion. The groom, Scaurus, is one of mine." She says the young man's name with notable pride as she takes her seat. Barest hint of a smile curving as she notes Marko rushing in her flight suit. A short nod of approval. She'd likely not have him married dressed any other way. "My own father was…less than thrilled in my choice of husbands. But he did his duty to give me away, and we all came away from it family. That is all that matters." A nod to Madilyn. "So say we all. Not even the Cylons could destroy all that we are. We remain."

Still looking around the area, Malone manages to notice Marko's arrival. "Let's hope that this is not the classic case of 'Groom rushes to get to the wedding, then dies of heart attack during it'," he mutters, mostly to himself for now. Otherwise he keeps quiet as he moves further over towards the other people present now.

Quinn seems to have gotten a hold on her nigh-unto-mad need for sugar, no longer knocking back straight sugar packets from the coffee station. She shakes her head at the offer of pie or punch. "No, no…I'm fine. Go get some for… You. Mingle. I'll be here." She whispers softly to him, just trying to free herself from the social obligations. Her eyes flicker over to the bride then, the first ghost of a smile touching her lips. That was good to see, at least… and then to the groom. She focuses on watching them now.

"Will not," Devlin retorts, "I am totally not doing that. Besides, pie is mostly fruit, and fruit is good for you." He nods sagely, eyeing Bran a bit jealously as they pass the ECO already eating pie. His smile for Sawyer is friendly, and then he glances between her and Psyche at that awkward moment and rolls his eyes a little… which works well with the pilot's squeaking and gasping over Lunair. He turns to look and agrees, "Yeah, she does. You did a great job on that dress. Why don't you go tell her, I'm going to say hi to Sawyer."

In fairness, it's likely the second for Lunair. She thought of her guests. And figured better to have the refreshment fiends pack in early, right? If she notices Marko, Lunair only smiles. "It's a pleasure," She replies to Sawyer and grins before she's occupied again and making sure the fort is held until Marko gets here. There's a Sister, bedecked in fine garb waiting in front of the chairs and frowning as she reads something. Line A bride… wait, no. Hmmm. She squints. Lunair grins and waves at those grabbing refreshments. "Please help yourselves. It'd be cruel to put food out and not let people at it." Right? Right. Lysander gets a faint smile, she recognizes him. Though it's clear she's a touch overwhelmed by it all. A nod at Astra too. She's making her rounds at least. It seems to be a relaxed affair more than formal. Still, the Sister waits and sighs softly. Tsk.

All this talk of pie around Damon makes his stomach growl pleadingly. He shuts it up with a quick snack and continues to float around. The gift he drops off at the pile, though whatever it is, it's small - the clumsily-wrapped box is no larger than his fist. Eventually, he makes his way over to the seats, a quick gaze scanning through the crowd. "Majors," he greets Cidra and Madilyn, passing by them to grab a seat. "'Scuse me." He doesn't even realize who Rose is until he moves past her, when he blinks in surprise and looks back to confirm. Yep, it's her.

Psyche watches Sawyer turn and go elsewhere, looking fractionally guilty and torn. She sighs, then nods gratefully at Devlin's suggestion. "Sure! Absolutely…" She flashes a smile up at the nugget, then gives his hand a squeeze and departs his company for the moment, bride-intercept bound. "Lunie!" she cries, swooping down on the CMC officer. She wraps the violet-eyed bride up in a hug — not, perhaps, as tight as her enthusiasm might warrant, mindful of the dress. "You look so gorgeous!"

Rose nods slowly at Cidra's words, favoring the woman with a smile. "So say we all," she repeats, quietly, affirmatively. From her bag, she produces a small tin - looking like some of the chocolates or candies that was salvaged from one of the raiding parties, then filtered down to the survivors. It looks remarkably like one of the packages Damon attempted to deliver to Rose, in fact, but wrapped with a red ribbon and tied in a bow. "I'm told these are local wedding sweets," she says to Cidra. "Since you have an easier time, if you had a chance, would you do me the favor of dropping this off where the gifts are being collected? I'd do it myself but I should probably sit still and not fumble around. Plus, I haven't worn heels in over six months." There's that familiar head-tilt as she recognizes and homes in on Andreas' voice; then, her attention is back to Cidra.

One of the best things about weddings is the food. Bran looks up, because he can swear that someone is talking about him but he doesn't slow down at that. He does, however, when he catches the attention of the resident nugget. He points his fork down at the pie and offers a grin to counter Devlin's jealousy. It's a sign of 'try this', and then Bran looks over towards Ulixes. There's a pause. So, he promptly calls out: "What's with the faces?"

Marko finally emerges from his tent, looking as dapper as anyone can in Dress Grays, voted by most of the Fleet to be the single most hideous example of military couture in recorded history. The young ECO's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates at how many people showed up for this little festival, prompting him to find the drinks table, snag a glass of blue bug juice and, carefully, gulp it down in three swallows. "Okay…okay….everything's fine." he tells himself, shaking his head a little to clear it. "Gotta find Lunair, do that, then meet and greet."

Madilyn seems content to mill about and chat until the ceremony gets under way. Ever fiber of her own upbringing keeps her from marching on over and getting a cup of punch, but she's not about to cause a fuss when others snack at the invitation of the bride. Rather than bother Lunair before things begin, settled on the fact of congratulations and other conversation following, Madilyn finds herself a seat.

"Should have gone hunting beforehand," Ulixes laments as he comes to stand by Trask and Quinn, peering off into the distance, "Big spread of whatever the hell kind of thing they eat here." The Carnivore smacks his lips a few time before grinning at the two people he's known the longest out of everyone here, "Gonna catch the bouquet, Jugs?" When Bran shouts out to him, he lifts his eyes and shakes his head, "Just got an itch. Not quite used to fancy dress uniforms."

Devlin heads Sawyer-wards after diverging from Psyche and, alright, after detouring back to the table to get himself a slice of cherry pie, since Lunair said they could. It would be wrong not to, now that the bride suggested it, right? Right? Pie in hand, he grins at Bran and shoots the ECO a thumbs-up before heading past to lean against a chair next to Sawyer. "Hey," he greets the lone reporter, "How's it going?"

"Mmm," that's what Lysander says when dropping off his gift with the plethora of others. He gives his a small pat on its head and then turns around in order to be personable. The sergeant tucks both hands into his front pockets and begins to walk casually off, pacing himself through tables. Along the way, he gets a chance to smile charmingly towards Lunair and nod to his boss. Congratulations. He doesn't want to interrupt though so he comes to the general area of Traskinn, or Quinsk, and looks from one superior to the other. He makes a short gesture to the table and an empty chair before speaking, "May I?"

"Most certainly," Cidra says softly to Rose, taking the chocolates. "That is most kind of you. Flasher does like chocolate." As there seems to be time before the ceremony gets underway, she'll take them up to the general 'gift' area just now.

Quinn is a few deconds delayed in realizing that Ulixes is actually talking to her. She blinks up to him quietly, shaking her head almost adamant at the question of the bouquet. "Oh…no… Gods no." She murmurs softly, "Not today." She's probably usually make some sort of joke, but it's just not there tonight. She folds her bare hands almost nervously in her lap… quiet again, letting the boys talk among themselves. She's not really chatty today.

Just walking around in the crowd, Samuel passes by the food table, although he doesn't do much more than glancing at it, and the people present at it for now. Guitar kept carefully in hand, he stops once in a while, nodding to the various people for now.

Sawyer finds herself a seat, settling into a grey metal folding chair that has 'BS CERBERUS' stenciled in yellow on the backrest. Hands pair up to swipe along her thighs, smoothing out the delicate fabric of her dress beneath her as she sits. Her chin flicks up as she cants her head up to gather Devlin in her gaze, a soft polite smile affixes to her lips, a practiced thing that seems old hat by now. "Hey Killer. You and the missus planning another bar brawl for the reception?" She's goodnaturedly joking, of course. "I hear a congratulations of your own is in order." The last is said softer, so the words don't carry far.

Bootstrap remains put. For a moment, at least. He could continue standing by Maggie, acting as though they didn't discover just yesterday they her entire family was likely dragged off by Cylons to who knows where to endure horrors no one really wants to consider -OR- he can act as though nothing is amiss while eating pie. "I'll nab you a slice of rhubarb, if they have," he tells Quinn, only to be intercepted by Ulixes, thus adding, "while there still might be a slice of any kind." For Shortcut will surely make short work of foodstuffs. At the comment about the bouquet, he gives the parting quip to his Saggie compatriot, "If she catches it, I'm not it." Then he's off to fetch refreshments, glibly informing Lysander in-passing, "I doubt anyone will shriek 'No Frat' for that."

"Don't wear it so tightly! It's just a wedding." Bran responds with that usual strength of voice to carry from where he stands to Ulixes. He then turns in place and nods smartly to Devlin: good choice in pie. The man has about half of a slice of some-fruit pie remaining and after glancing aside to the other wonders of bountiful eats he looks all the more thoughtful. Food or friends, food or friends, the Taurian begins to step away from the food but with his plate in tow. Now there's to find the latter out of so many folk.

Devlin swallows a bite of pie, and smiles back at Sawyer, his expression easy and genuinely friendly. He chuckles, and shakes his head, lifting a finger to his lips and warning, "Shh, don't give her any ideas. That last one was brutal, I could barely lift my arms for a couple days. And thank you," he adds, smiling widening and warming even further at the congratulations, though he leans in a little and asks quietly, "Why are we whispering?"

Ulixes makes an awkward face at the subdued attitude of his compatriots, though he doesn't say anything. Instead he politely excuses himself, moving away from the pair to amble near some unfamiliar faces and pay unnecessarily close attention to the ground. Ooo, very interesting.

Astra nods shyly to Lunair, though her smile is warm, happy for the woman. Her fingers still dance over the harp-strings, but she does speak softly to Thera. The little girl gets up, tugging a little something out of the pack. It is the size and shape of a child's (or young teen's) perfume bottle, painted beautifully with a tiny, but detailed seashore. Sticking out of the bottle are paper flowers on wire, shaped carefully. The whole thing has been sprayed with a clear finish, and has a hair-ribbon tied around it. Thera marches it up proudly and puts it with the rest of the gifts, setting a little handmade card beside it.

When Rose pulls out her gift, Damon's brows furrow slightly - isn't that from the pile that he dropped off to her a few days ago? It so totally is. He deflates a little bit in his seat and looks longingly over to the drinks table. You can almost see the thoughts in his mind by watching his face, the last of which is 'Aw, screw it,' as he gets up to grab himself a glass of something. He's not picky.

Sawyer leans towards Devlin, carrying on the pretense of conspiracy with a stage whisper. "I was told it was on the sly. I certainly didn't want to give anything away. I do so love a good bit of intrigue." One eye flashes closed in a quick wink. "But if it's not, I can make sure the news makes its way into next week's shipwide newsletter."

Marko finally manages to catch up with Lunair and gives her a grin. "Heh, am I the only one here wondering if this is really happening?" he asks, slightly breathless and bewildered, "Wow.." he adds, stepping back to admire his intended in her finery. "Starting to think I owe Bubbles a debt I can't repay. You look beautiful, darling."

Lysander huffs a bit under his breath. "I'm playing things safe tonight, Sir," he says that to Trask-in-passing and gives a stiff nod of his head before moving to sit across from Quinn. He laces his fingers together there and he watches Ulixes wander off. "So," he steps right into things in trying to catch the pregnant woman's attention, "How're you holdin' up?"

Damon laughs. Thanks.

Devlin whispers back to Sawyer, one hand lifted to shield their words even though he whispers fairly loud and clearly isn't actually considered about secrecy: "Oh! No, not on the sly. But if you want we can pretend it was?" He grins a bit, and shakes his head, "Not a secret, we just didn't want to mess with people's schedules or conflict with this or wait, so we just…did it. But sure!" he adds, straightening up, speaking at a more normal volume after another bite of pie, "It can go in the newsletter." He smiles, "That'd be cool. Actually, that reminds me," he gestures with his fork, "You've got a dark room, right?"

Quinn gives Trask a long look as he mentions Rhubarb pie, but she doesn't bother protesting. She doesn't even bother with a smirk. Her eyes just flicker back in Lunair's direction, Watching the bride is probably more pleasant than anything right now. Something to celebrate. And then there's another voice. She didn't even fully realize he was sitting across from her. She blinks back to the marine, pasting a touch of a smile on her pale lips. "Fine, Sergeant. Good… good work yesterday." She numbly murmurs.

Rose sighs quietly, chewing on the inside of her mouth briefly, listening after Damon's retreat. She fusses with her shawl a bit, and then busies herself with folding her whitestick up and tucking it out of the way, placing it on the grass beside her seat. "Oh well," she murmurs to no one in particular.

Daw. Lunair smiles at Thera. "Thank you," She nods. She's rather pleased. A look up to Marko, "I feel a bit dazed," She admits. More than the times she gets shot in the face or hit with IEDs at any rate. She smiles at him. A look to Quinn and smile. Then a glance back to Marko. "We both do. Thank you. I feel weird not being in my dress greys," She admits quietly. She pauses, "I should greet Rose then head up to the Sister. It's a bit non-traditional, I hope you don't mind," But beyonod this? She's really at a loss for words. "You look very nice." She nods. Someone hit her over the head with a frying pan.

Psyche, who has just squeezed the stuffin' out of the bride, stands just behind and slightly to the side of Marko. She beams at his reaction to his bride, leaning in slightly to whisper, "You're soooooo welcome." She grins, kisses both the bride and the groom on the cheek, and winks. Time to leave these crazy kids alone. She raises her hand and wiggles her fingers in farewell, then strolls back over to Devlin and Sawyer. She slides into the chair beside the reporter. "Hey," she greets the other woman, with the hesitance of one inexplicable shy.

Sawyer gets distracted a moment, tracing Trask through the crowd, before her attention returns full force to Devlin. "Yes! I do, as a matter of fact. Well, technically QUODEL does, but everyone seems kind enough to let me pretend as if it's my own. With everyone having gone to digital photography, it's a bit archaic. I'm beginning to think it's mine, simply because I'm the only one that knows the how to properly develop physical film." There's a pause and a tilt of her head. "Why do you ask?" Her gaze flicks to the front, making sure the ceremony isn't about to begin. As Psyche slips in next to her, her smile firms, "Afternoon, Psyche. I didn't have a chance to tell you, but fantastic ball-busting."

Lysander opens his mouth to speak up and then knits his brows together, voice straining until he clamps things shut and quietly nods. He has promised himself that he shan't try his hand at insulting anyone. "That's frakkin' awesome," he doesn't take a stab at mentioning how lackluster the smiling seems to be, "You holding up fine, that is." The marine offers a slow and measured nod of his head with yesterday being mentioned and after a moment of silence he speaks back up with another question. He lightly smiles. "Anything I can do to help? I know there're varying shades of fine an' yours is darker than mine, right now, so, anything while we celebrate the recipes for a happy marriage?"

With Bran vacating the table of treats, Trask has full reign to start piling pieces of pie on several plates. Noticing Damon by the drinks, he greets, "Pee-Oh." A thought occurs, "Hey, pour me a cup of unspiked punch for Captain Quinn and I'll slice you a slice." Fair trade, right?

"Well, I was hoping you might help me develop some pictures," Devlin tells Sawyer, explaining, "My camera actually takes both film and digital, so I have the files and everything, but I've got this film… and it's been forever since I tried developing it myself and I really would rather not frak these up…so if you could give me a hand, that'd be really great?" He flashes Psyche a smile as she arrives, saying, "Hey, babe," and them turning that smile onto the other woman as well. "My turn to go say hi to Marko and Lunair, I think. Can I get either of you something while I'm up? Drinks? Pie? The cherry's real good, let me tell you."

"You're pretty," Thera says softly, then looks towards Marko. "So're you. Thanks for not making us clean up the puke." SHe giggles, then flushes and runs back to her adoptive mother. Astra smiles, leaning over to kiss her cheek, continuing to play, though she keeps an eye on the Sister as well, to know when to stop the music.

Quinn just shakes her head slowly towards the Marine, "No… no… no need for help. Go… celebrate. It's a happy day." She whispers simply, not enough emotion in her voice to fully be able to tell if she means it or if she's just saying the things that should be said. Probably a bit of both. She does manage, however, to reach a hand across and give his knee a little pat before she sinks back into her multi coloured folding chair that Trask brought her, eyes going back to the crowd… Just watching.

Marko chuckles at the unexpected kiss and blushes a little to Psyche. "I've got a gift for you back on the ship." he tells her. "Do not let me forget." he grins. "It's not much, but it's just a way of saying thanks." he says. Thera's comment elicits a laugh. "Heh, well, first time's a freebie. But next time someone tells you not to close your eyes before a jump, listen." he winks.

"Oh yes, the Sister….Yeah, honey, let's get this show on the road." Marko adds, taking Lunair's hand.

Cidra returns to her seat near the Marine CO and Rose after she's deposited Rose's gift. Sitting with her legs crossed. No refreshments for her yet. Perhaps she's waiting until after the ceremony has concluded. That smile tugs ever-so-faintly at her lips again as things get underway, focus all on Marko and Lunair.

Madilyn is content enough to sit and watch, as all the greeting and hugging and squeeing happens around her. That for her is enough to relax and be happy for a few hours. The late arrival of the groom just gets a raised eyebrow and a bit of a chuckle, as she observes people clumping together and chatting, breaking apart, and finding seats.

"Oh, my gods, I feel so bad about that," Psyche sighs, covering her face with her hands for a moment. She peeks at Sawyer between her fingers, then drops her hands and sighs elaborately once more. "I mean, yeah. He sort of had it coming? But I never meant to land him in sickbay for a week or whatever. I really owe him an apology. And cookies and smokes. And a free shot, if he wants one." She smiles back at Sawyer, purposefully but not insincerely. "Nice job, yourself, by the way. You were pretty badass. A lot classier, keeping the guy down, I thought." A brilliant, sweet smile is flashed Devlin's way. "I'll have the cherry pie on your recommendation, babe. And rum, if there's any left?"

Rose leans into Cidra to murmur to her quietly, asking, "Um, I don't mean to be vain or anything, Major, but do I look all right?" She tugs self-consciously at her shawl. "The girls back at the starboard hangar said so, as they helped gussy me up for the event. I'm… just wondering if they were being polite, considering our condition and lack of luxuries and all." Of course, there's a hidden subtext there, but if Cidra doesn't pick up on it, it's just as well.

Damon grabs one drink, glances about him with a guilty look, drains it in one fluid motion, and grabs another one. He mills about, taking a couple sips here and there, but doesn't actually engage anyone in conversation - he just kind of watches from the periphery of the party. Although he tries not to make it obvious, his eyes flicker back to where he was sitting every once in a while. He usually drinks right afterward, too. This healthy behavior continues for a few minutes before he reclaims that seat with a half-empty glass in hand.

Speaking of Bran, he's currently relating a tale of daring heroics while he was stationed on the Battlestar Hephaestus. It involves pirates and stuff, so is inherently cool: ninjas need not apply. The Taurian ECO is such engrossed that there still remains a small portion of pie upon his plate.

"Oh no, I'm fine thank you." Sawyer pats her stomach, as if trying to convey she's watching her 'girlish figure' as a reason for turning down Devlin's offer. She hitches her chin up towards the happy couple and the clergy. "Besides, I think we're about to begin. Feel free to join me though?" The journalist offers the couple, her heels digging into the earth to scoot herself into a bit more of a proper posture in the chair. "And I'd be delighted to help you develop the film. I have plenty enough solution, it'd be nice to put it to good use." As a quiet aside to Psyche, "He totally had it coming."

Lunair is squeezed and returns it after a second. "We do owe you big, thank you," She nods. She lets Marko take her hand and grins, "Right. We can't let our guests cook," She agrees. With that, she moves along with Marko. There's a long pause to let folks finish gathering (At least those who are gathering refreshments and intend to stay for the brief speeches) before the Sister clears her throat and eyes the pair. Not very traditional, but oh well.

"Please find your seats now," The Sister requests, her voice deep and almost having a brassy sort of quality that lends bells their majesty.

Andrea walks in slowly, cautiously. She'd heard the event, heard it described as open to anyone, but still felt strange. She didn't even know the people who'd been hitched, and here she was, at their party? Still, it was a party, right? She hadn't been to one of those since the war began. So, more than a little shyly, she walks in the doors and takes a deep breath. Long time, no crowds. At the sister's behest, she finds the least obvious seat available.

Cidra is all subtext herself on occasion. Whether or not she picks up on any from Rose, it's unclear from her manner and reply. She takes a moment to look the civilian woman over. Critically. Finally nodding a little to herself. "I do think you look quite lovely, Miss Ibbhanas. All very proper for the occasion. I would not think much on it. Few of us have access to more. You are, at least, not in uniform, which makes for something better than most here." But, as things start, she quiets down.

So much for that. With Damon departing, Trask sets about pouring some punch. Then, with the manual dexterity of a former snipe-turned-former knuckledragger, he gathers the careful arrangement of sweets and drinks, and makes his way back to Quinn and company. "Where'd Toby go?" he asks, noticing Ulixes is no longer gone. Sure, the Taurian can eat a lot, but he hadn't intended to scarf so many slices of pie. Setting them down, along with some plastic spoons and the sugary drinks, he takes a seat next to the redheaded preggo.

The sergeant's smile fades a bit, but just a bit. "You should celebrate too, but there's no rush to it. It comes when it comes." Lysander offers a good-natured smile and then looks to the side upon Quinn's reassuring touch. He still lingers in place though even if she's telling him to enjoy life and such. A look around is given in search of Trask and as he goes to stand up he's asked to sit back down. So, across from Quinn is where he settles back. Andrea is spotted not too far off and he lifts a hand in greeting.

As the Sister's voice bells out, Astra stills the strings of the harp, and she sets it down on the ground. Petra is curled up at her feet, sucking her thumb, just watching, and Thera is alternating between sitting primly and playing with her shoes. At the moment she has taken off one shoe and one sock, and is trying to contort herself enough to get her toes into her mouth. Astra sighs, clears her throat, and gives her a gentle whap, and the girl squeaks softly and sits properly again, though she does wriggle bare toes in the grass.

Quinn is already seated so, fortunately, there's no where else she really needs to go. She looks up towards Trask again, realizing the question is for her. She frowns, looking around, only now actually catching onto the fact that Toby is missing. She shakes her head. "Dunno, Boots… sorry… I thought he was… here…" She admits, brows furrowing a bit as she momentarily realizies just how out of it she might be. But they service is starting. She gives Lysander's knee a brief bat, reassuring again, or trying at least, and looks ahead to the service.

His timing off, Devlin steals another piece of pie and a couple drinks as quickly as possible and then gets back to his seat by Sawyer and Psyche, passing the latter the pie and a fork and a cup with some sort of rum punch in it. He keeps a fork and his own cup for himself, and steals the first bite of her pie before sitting back. "That'd be great," he tells Sawyer, "With the pictures. Thanks. I learned a while ago but I was never great at that part of it. And you both kick more ass than I do, seemed like. Anyways. Starting!" He grins, and takes a sip of his drink, apparently pleased to get things under way.

Damon sits hunched forward, elbows on his knees. He's off in his own little world - he doesn't even have a clue that Trask was trying to talk to him back at the drinks table. Both his feet tap out a steady nervous rhythm on the ground, causing the drink in his hand to shake. Once again, his thoughts are fairly evident on his face as his lips twist this way and that as he debates internally, stealing a glance or two to the blind woman. OK. Do this thing. He quickly finishes off his glass, sets it down, and leans over to say something to Rose. The words die on his lips, though, as the Sister's voice slices through the din of the crowd that exact second. Disappointment and relief both etched on his expression, he just clears his throat and sits up straight.

Ulixes had wandered off to look around, a little ways off from the crowd that has gathered for the hitching. However, he does eventually wander back into the thick of things with a little bit of a rueful expression on his face. Now, he is at the food table once again peering at the goodies up for offer but not picking anything to eat just yet.

"Of course we do," Psyche says of her and Sawyer's ass kicking. "We're more ass-kicky because it's hotter when chicks do it. Therefore the scale is skewed in our favor As are most things that cause erections. And people think society isn't still patriarchal — oh, are we starting?" And she hasn't even started drinking yet, folks. But she does have a sip of rum as she perks up, peering to the front with bright interest.

Once this request is fulfilled, she smiles politely and begins a sermon on transitions. They move from carefree singles to a couple who should always be patient, always diligent and kind. Walk together. They will not own one another, nor do they command one another - such service is given out of love, making it far sweeter and kinder than an obligation. Between this paragraph, a rather solemn chant. No longer belonging to her old family, given to her new. While they skipped many formalities- like the bath and sacrifices, incense is lit near the Sister. It's faint, but sweet. After her deep voiced song, another reminder. To treat one another and others with respect always, that they might make more friends than enemies. That their words are honey and not poison. Let the rain come, they will stay warm. Days will come, and days will go. But there will always be each other. And so the winding speech is given, evoking tradition - once it might've been done over a more formal procession or a stately altar. Regardless of the place and time, the intent is the same, forging a bond.

And there is a brief pause, before vows are exchanged.

Marko, I offer you my Love

I offer you my strength

I offer you my weaknesses

I offer you my support

I offer you my loyalty

I offer you my faith

For as long as we both shall Live.

"Oh frak," Andrea mutters under her breath. He wasn't kidding when he said he was engaged, eh? Well, at least he was the type to keep promises. Good to have in the wing. She was pretty sure her face was bright red, however.

"Lunair, I offer you my Love

I offer you my strength

I offer you my weaknesses

I offer you my loyalty

I offer you my faith

For as long as we both shall Live." Marko repeats, trying to speak around a facesplitting grin.

And with that, it's done. At least, the more formal parts. It ends on a promise, with a softer chant until finally it fades. The Sister lifts an arm, offering her blessings and telling them to go forward then. The incense is blown out by a soft breeze, carrying the faint smoke towards the heavens. And so the party may continue.

Sawyer lowers her gaze to her lap, a discrete pat at her eyes made with the crook of her finger to tap away gathering moisture. She falls quiet and respectful of the ceremony, but as it draws to a close and they are pronounced man and wife, Sawyer gives an obligatory soft clap.

Rose seems to be familiar with many parts of the ceremony despite it being informal in some parts. Silently, her lips move to recite the offerings made by the Sister, and proudly voices the chants that the guests are permitted to partake in. Her hand makes subtle gestures in her lap, making old, ancient mudras of blessing to go along with the blessings, spoken or silent. If she weren't already confessed to be Aquarian, she might be mistaken as Gemenese for how accurately she knows the rites. And naturally, at the part where Raine and Marko exchange vows, her lip trembles and the water-works turn on.

Astra weeps. She blinks away the first tears, wipes away the next, and then just lets them fall freely. She twists a small ring, engraved with seals, on her finger, then lifts a hand to her throat. Around her neck is a knotted chord, and she draws it out. Hanging from it is a man's ring that matches hers, and she holds this ring against the one on her finger. "For as long as we both shall live… and beyond," she whispers, then tucks the man's ring away. "Watch over them," she murmurs faintly, then goes still again, the tears ceasing bit by bit.

Lysander looks slowly around the area with his eyes alone. It's just so he can mentally count off how many women, and perhaps a man or three, are going to go for their eyes and in one way or another wipe them given the amounts of emotion and love floating around. He politely sits back and lightly smiles, as should any good marine do.

In one of those rare moments of pensiveness, Kal Trask merely witnesses the exchange of vows. There is no glib quip, nor a hint of any wryness. The plate of pie remains untouched as those expressive brown eyes of his alight on the delighted couple. Somewhere during the course of if all, a small bead of scarred and heat-warped jet is removed from a slack pocket and gingerly rubbed between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. Even after all is said and down, he lingers like that, carefully clutching said bead in his palm for a long moment before discreetly returning it to its safe place. Quietly, clearing his throat, he then echoes the obligatory applause, flashes Marko a genuine smile, and consoles himself with another mouthful of key lime.

Quinn watches, that faintest, quiet smile on her lips, but at least it's a smile. She seems actually rather caught up in the ceremony…

Devlin looks like he desperately wants to make some comment to Psyche after her remarks, but there is a wedding ceremony to observe, and that he does, quietly and politely, and with a grin for the couple that widens as the proceedings draw to a close. He claps when it is time to clap, but resists the urge to cheer. For now.

However, Lunair turns and offers, "Ours is not the only wedding of late though. I wish to make note of our dear Psyche and Devlin's wedding. Please wish them well too." She smiles. The Sister offers a soft blessing after, though with her practiced voice, it's still quite audible. The weeping touches Lunair, and it shows, even as she smiles at Marko and his big grin.. "Thank you for coming, please enjoy yourselves." She doesn't wish to stifle people and she seems genuinely grateful. She manages to sneak in a tight hug. Daw. If anyone looks, there's a ring around her dog tags. Tucked where it might be safest against them. Well. She looks up at Marko, half disbelieving and very happy.

Not gonna cry. Not gonna cry. Not gonna cry. Damon blinks rapidly, trying to keep the moisture in his eyes from exiting. It's a touching ceremony, and he'd have gotten emotional even if the end of the worlds hadn't happened. The ceremony ends, and he's succeeded in not having to wipe at his face, though evidence of the effort lingers in his eyes. The booze probably didn't help. He claps eagerly, loud but slow, and gives a whistle at the end for good measure.

Madilyn must not be a very good Marine, at least not by Lysander's standards. It's some kind of genetic thing in women, apparently. The waterworks started toward the recital of the vows, and by the time they're finishing up, Madilyn's dabbing away full-on tears with a few tissues that she wisely stuffed into a pocket of her uniform.

Cidra blinks, rather rapidly, as Lunair and Marko exchange their vows. Is the CAG…crying? Yes. Yes she is. She even takes out a kerchief from her uniform pocket and sniffles into it.

Quinn catches onto the clapping. She's not crying, but her applause is warm, genuine, louder after a few seconds as she quietly cheers for the couple in the best way her heart knows how right now.

Marko hugs Lunair back just as tightly, planting a long kiss on her cheek as he entwines his fingers with hers. Other wedding? There's other people here? When did they show up? The only thing Marko's aware of right now is his new bride.

Only when the announcement of the other nuptials are made does Bootstrap smirk. Even so, he keeps quiet. That is until he looks back to Marko and Lunair, noticing the long kiss on the cheek. "Oh, for frak's sake, Flasher," he calls out, "you're not gonna get reprimanded if you give your wife a hearty snog on your wedding day."

The other nuptial announcement does make Maggie blink, eyes flickering to Psyche and Devlin, then back to the second married couple, the ceremony of the day, and Maggie trails off her clapping. She did give that round of applause, but now she's just curling back into herself. Marriages everywhere. Family, new connections, new love. And the knocked up woman sits alone with her ECO as a date. At least she's not crying!

"Yeah, come on!" Devlin adds his shout to Trask's, along with a whistle to match Damon's, two fingers between his lips. He claps some more after that, and then leans over Sawyer to 1) grin at Psyche and 2) see how much of her pie is left and if he can steal some.

Rose claps heartily, with a cheerful, "Yay!" at the end for good measure. They say that the line between happiness and sadness is a thin one; she dabs at her eyes again with her handkerchief, the lines between completely muddled. "Oh, I'm so happy for her," she says to no one in particular, although both Majors and Andreas are the closest to her. "Both of them, I mean! It's so wonderful that we can find happiness in times like these."

Sawyer helpfully leans back so Devlin can get himself a forkful, and she pats him congenially on the back. That must have been the congratulations she was eluding to earlier. It's good to be in the know.

"Another marriage?" Damon boggles as another pair are named - again, not people that he really knows, but who cares? It's a two-for-one! "Another marriage! Hey!" he all but shouts, standing up from his seat. More thunderous clapping, more whistling, and rowdy "WHOO!"-ing ensue from the knuckledragger, who may possibly be alone in revelling so loudly.

Psyche applauds the newly minted husband and wife, beaming. She kisses her hands to Lunair in acknowledgment of the thoughtful announcement, then laughs as Sawyer's leaning allows Devlin to gank the rest of the cherry pie. The whooping and enthusiasm catch her attention, craning her around in search of the source. Damon is grinned at and she points, fingershooting the deckie with a brilliant smile.

Oh yes, people, there are people here. That's who's making all the noise. "Well, we really went and did it now, didn't we?" Marko asks Lunair with a grin. "Congrats to Devlin and Psyche!" he calls, giving the happy couple a wave before leaning in to kiss Lunair properly.

Cidra blink-blink-blinks. Which just makes a few stray tears escape down her cheeks. She sniffles. But that slightest of smiles on her face is a happy one, if touched with the bittersweet. She joins in the applause. Albeit not so boisterously as Damon.

By now, some of the less weepy and touched have resumed mingling - some congratulate Psyche and Devlin. Others shamelessly go for a drink or two. Whatever happens, Lunair seems pleased. She smiles at all of the tears and applause. There's a deep, shy blush and she even smiles at Damon. A look back to Marko and a nod. "That we did, thank you, Marko," She notes with amusement, not moving away from the offered kiss. She returns it quite happily, doing her best not to turn even more red.

Astra settles back in her seat, and she smiles warmly, wiping her cheeks. She claps her hands together, for both couples now, then looks down at her children. Her eyes brighten a little, and she nods to herself, her lips moving silently. A glance again towards the happy couple, and she watches them, taking in every detail.

Devlin waves back to Marko and Lunair with one hand while stealing pie with the other hand, swallowing a bit bite before grinning at the (other newlyweds). And then Psyche is doing finger-guns at somebody and he just barely manages not to choke as he laughs, lifting his head to look around and see who has prompted such a thing.

When things start to break up and dissolve into the more social aspects of the evening, Sawyer touches Psyche's knee slight, asking quietly, "Won't you excuse me?" And with that she attempts to slip out of her chair, perhaps to hit the booze, the food, or the next transport back to the Battlestar.

As it appears that nobody is really getting all into the YEAH MARRIAGE! spirit as Damon, he brings it down from eleven a little bit, his raucous cheering slowly fading away like he's actually being turned down with a volume dial. "Whoo marriage," he finishes calmly at a regular speaking volume, raising two fists in the air emphatically. Before he clears his throat and sits down, he returns Psyche's fingershooting by pointing at her with both hands and mouthing an inaudible, "Whoo. Yeah." Okay, he's done.

"A'right," Trask murmurs when Marko /finally/ gives Lunair a proper kiss, "That's more like it, but he's totally on his own with his wedding night duties." Eyeing the pieces of untouched pie, he then says to Quinn, "Show's over. Wanna bolt?" Not even waiting for an answer, he's already rising and poised to assist his 'date' to her feet.

Cidra sniffles, dabbing at her eyes and trying to make herself somewhat presentable. She's not a pretty crier. She gets puffy. Nonetheless, she stands and strides over to congratulate the happy couple properly. "Very well done, Flasher," she says simply upon approach.

Raising an eyebrow with an incredulous look on her face, eyes glancing to the side towards Damon (but not turning to face him - oh, gods, no) Rose attempts to shrink down in her seat. Thankfully due to the wonders of good makeup, and especially since Toast was seated closest to her, the blind woman's embarassed blushing is more or less kept to herself.

"Sure," Psyche replies to Sawyer, smiling. "Hey, Saws…?" The other bride hesitates a moment, seeming at a loss, then settles for a simple, "It was good to see you." Damon's finale is caught out of the corner of her eye, drawing her attention back to the deckie, prompting more laughter and a slight, sympathetic facepalming. Making a spectacle of oneself? She knowz it. Twice before breakfast, sometimes. Turning back to her husband, she laughs again to find him with a bit of cherry pie-filling on his face — such is the price of gluttony. She reaches towards it with a thumb, then shakes her head and leans in, kissing it away instead.

As people begin to move about, Astra nudges Thera, motioning her towards the tables. Pie! Food! But… pie! The child scampers towards the tables, bringing back three slices of pie, one for her, one for Petra, and one for Mama. "Sorry babies, none for you," she chirps. Then she rises again, skips over to a chair, and climbs onto it. "Flasher!" she yells so that he is sure to hear her, "Nestor my brother, he says, Congratu-fraking-lations!" Beaming, she runs back over to Astra, who is for some reason unknown to Thera now choking on her pie.

Quinn looks over towards Trask as he mentions bolting, her applause having died off a while ago. She nods almost immediately, that being the most life she's shown since yesterday morning's mission. "Y-yes…I…I'll say my congratulations… another time." She whispers, wanting to speak it when she means it. When she can actually understand what she's saying. She forces herself up to her feet, only swaying a bit as she gets there, but she's eagerly moving to escape at the side of her ECO.

The next person to get in line to greet the happy couple is Madilyn. She's a little less puffy than Cidra, but not by much. Looks like the CAG, Lunair, Psyche, and Madilyn all have something in common now, what with the marriage and all. "I see you learned this little trick," Madilyn says to Lunair with a smile, pointing at the rings on the dog tags. But it's short-lived, before she leans in for an uncharacteristic hug for both bride and groom.

"You're not giving wedding night lessons, Trask?" Ulixes asks, having remained almost completely silent throughout the entire ceremony and only now speaking up, "I figured I'd scrounge up a camcorder and upload it so we could restart the internet once we reestablished civilization."

Sawyer manages a polite, "You too." To Psyche before getting the frak out of dodge. Maybe she's got a deadline to keep. The press never sleep, or stick around for pie it seems.

Devlin sits back as Sawyer makes to leave, smiling at the reporter and lifting a hand to wave, "See you around, Sawyer. I'll come find you about the photos." He lets her past, and then is getting cherry pie filling kissed off his face, which draws a sheepish grin for a second. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth anyhow and sips his drink before standing up and offering Psyche a hand so they can go try that mingling thing again now that the ceremony's done.

Lunair grins at Damon. "I am glad for your enthusiasm, thank you." She smiles as people come to greet them and they make a round or two as well. She beams at CAG. "Thank you for coming, it's an honor," Not just any CAG. THE CAG. A really pointy one. "It's a bit dizzying," She admits and grins. A look to Marko and she goes quiet, watching contentedly. "Hey now," She points out Thera. "Slow down kiddo." Then a wave to Quinn and Trask. She doesn't point them out though, letting them have their exit in peace. She smiles as more come to greet them. And it's Madilyn too. She blushes. "Yes, it's much handier and safer…" She admits, looking down to her tags. And gasp! A CO hug. Lunair's still a bit red, hugging Madilyn back. "Thank you."

Now that Damon's calm(er), he takes subterfuge in rolling his shoulders and stretching a bit to glimpse sideways toward Rose. Is she… hiding from him? Oh. Right. He was just shouting and cheering, pretty much alone, making more a fool out of himself. Dejected shoulders hunch forward again, though he raises his hand to wave in response to Lunair's thanks. "I was just, I, um, got caught up in the spirit of the celebration," he mutters. To Rose? To whoever can hear him. Who let this guy have booze before the ceremony?

"Please," Trask wryly quips to Ulixes, positioning himself so he can (1) steady Quinn, and (2) fold up the folding chair he had brought for her pregnant ass, "Prince left me enough pr0n," yes, he actually says pr0n, "for six internets." Lieutenant Marvin "Prince" Albert had quite the collection. "Cutin' out with us, Shortcut? If so, grab the pie." His arms are already full. "I'll tell Flasher you weren't feelin' well," he tells the redhead, which isn't a lie.

Psyche takes Devlin's hand and stands, glancing back at the enthusiastic deckie one last time. She follows Damon's glance to Rose, watches his shoulders hunch, and tilts her head, eyes taking on a slightly keener, cannier focus. She leans up to whisper to her husband, watching the knuckledragger and the civilian all the while.

"Thank you, sir." Marko replies, reverting to formality without realizing it. Poor guy, he hadn't expected a turnout like this, not that he's complaining, mind. "I'm really happy you could make it. Wouldn't have been right if you weren't here." he adds.

"Call me … " Ulixes suddenly fails at wit, " … the guy who is getting the pie." He darts to scoop up the pie, holding it close to his chest as though it were a golden pie, and moves to follow along behind Trask and Quinn.

Rose slowly turns to face Damon, her hands moving to smooth out the fabric covering her lap. "No need to apologize, Mister Damon," she says to him, the exchange quiet - probably unheard over the din of congratulations and conversations, but not whispered. "I'm… coming to understand that you're a very complex person. You're very… emotive. Colorful, is a good word." Desperately searching for synonyms to 'loud' and 'boisterous', perhaps.

Quinn would probably, normally half bite his hand off for implying she needs that much support, but today she just takes the steadiness. She's up, solid on two feet, her free hand resting casual against the small of her back to help stablize her weight. She lets the boys talk it out for a few moments, and then they're moving. She moves right along with them, not certain where they are going, but the Raptor trio are escaping away.

Devlin leans down for the whisper and then follows Psyche's gaze towards Damon and Rose and nods. "Yep," he tells her, "Why?" The head through the crowd, the nugget offering a "Hey," in greeting to Ulixes and his golden pie as they pass.

Cidra is also there for hugging. Though she waits until Madilyn is done before attempting to embrace Marko and Lunair. Provided they don't bolt. "Bring her naught but happiness, Flasher." It sounds like an order.

Psyche smiles almost slyly, seeming to approve of Devlin's answer to… whatever. "Oh… no reason," she replies, turning her smile — bright and brilliant and adoring, now — on the man at her side. "No reason. Just curious." She drains her punch and glances at the receiving line. "Shall we?"

Better late than never, that's Leyla's motto for the day, as she darts into the room, still dressed in her flight suit, though she at least bothered to clean herself up a bit. A small gift bag in hand, and all, as she starts trying to make her way through the crowd, who now seem on their way out, rather than on the way in. Sad really, that she had to miss her wingman/ECO's wedding and, it seems, most of the reception, but the CAP waits for no nuptials.

And so it is that with folding chair, plates full of pie, and a bun in Quinn's oven, Bootstrap, Shortcut, and Jugs chart a course for an undisclosed location.

"I'll do my level best." Marko grins to Cidra, squeezing Lunair's hand gently. "Is that Sweet Pea?" he asks, peering into the milling throng, most of whom seem concentrated on the pies. "Heh, your pie idea just made you a hero, hon." he chuckles to his wife, kissing her cheek again.

Devlin lifts a brow at Psyche, eyeing her askance for a moment. Just for a moment, and then he nods, "Alright," he drains his cup as well, heading over towards Marko and Lunair to offer the pair a wide smile, and those with them as well.

Astra finally manages to swallow her pie, then leaves the rest for the two girls, who are happily eating, though more delicately than many their age might have. Starvation teaches manners, in a way. They do not spill a drop, a crumb, though they do lick their fingers, and the plates. Astra rises, leaving the carrier where is is under her watchful eyes, then heads over to the recently-wedded to offer her congratulations.

Lunair watches folks and smiles. She returns the gentle squeeze to Marko's hand. She smiles again, "I think so." She nods. She beams at Devlin and Psyche. She'll carefully accept and return a CAG hug! She blushes pleased. "Thank you," An amused look at the order and Marko's response. She blushes at the cheek kiss. "I'm just glad it worked. Probably for the better, frosting would melt outside. And it was half your idea too," She points out and leans on him for just a second. She turns for a second to kiss Marko's cheek in turn. "Thank you all so much."

What? Damon has to lean a bit closer to Rose to be able to make out some of what she's saying. She's the blind one, he's the hard-of-hearing one. "Just Andreas," he mutters under his breath. "You can say 'loud and obnoxious', I won't get offended," he says with a wry grin. "I'm a big boy, you can tell me what you really think about me." Now that he's actually conversing with her, he turns to face her, no guilty look required. The nervousness might not show on his face, but the rest of his body language screams it. "You look really drink; did you want me to grab you a great?" Pause. That's not it. "You - I mixed up the - " Sigh. Try again. "Hi."

The newlyweds congratulated, Madilyn figures that with all the guests, it's most considerate to just leave them to it, to their other guests, and to each other. Besides, there's still a bunch of food left to snack on and a sweet treat would do some good. Psychologically, at least. They won't do so much good on the hips. Drifting towards the table, she spots Damon and Rose giving a little chuckle and shake of her head. Cerberus odd couple, anyone?

Her hugging mission complete, Cidra melts into the crowd. She will likely partake little in the refreshments before returning to the ship. She remains smiling, albeit misty.

Nudge, nudge, nudge goes Sweet Pea, appearing and disappearing, depending on how tall the human grass is through which she needs to weave. Once she actually gets close enough, she'll try to muscle, such as it is, her way into the reception line. They are sort of queueing up to say their farewells and congratulations and all.

Rose lets out a sound that can only be described as a stopped giggle - she lifts a hand to her mouth, and then puts her serious face back on. "There. That's the Andreas I know. Or, at least, I first met. This other person, I'm not sure I know, or care for. And thank you," she says, shifting her shoulder a little and reaching up to adjust her shawl for no reason other than she just shifted it. Ahem. Pay no attention. "And gods yes. A drink, I mean."

Astra makes her way over to the newlyweds, and she stands an awkward, silent moment, then smiles warmly, still shy. "Congratulations," she says quietly. "I wish you all the happiness and love your hearts can hold." She pauses, as if there aught to be more to say, then just finishes with another smile.

"I'm just not used to being in the presence of, y'know, non-military people," Damin says, grinning sheepishly. Some of the nervous tension dissipates from his posture, and he relaxes into a more natural position. "If you wanted to say your congratulations to the newlyweds…es - " that's two pairs of newlyweds, in the Knuckledragger Unabridged Dictionary - "I could take you that way en route to the drinks." He hastily follows up with, "Not that I'm trying to take you anywhere, I just meant, if you wanted to. Or I can just bring you something here. That works too."

"You've used that excuse once before," Rose advises Andreas. She reaches down and takes up her folded whitestick, which unfolds with two clicks. "It would be nice to say my congratulations. I'd appreciate the walk, thank you," she says, smoothly rising to her feet.

Lunair smiles as folks melt and go, come and greet them. Damon's predicament earns him a faintly sympathetic smile. Daw. She looks to Rose too, pleased she came out. "Thank you," She smiles at Astra. "It was a pleasure and we appreciate that," The pause and smile earn a nod. "Please help yourselves to what's here abd feel free. I am glad to see you and yours well, too," Lunair's at least a gentle Marine. She watches the gathering quietly for a moemnt, making sure no one passed out or is left out.

"Thank you, ma'am." Marko replies to Astra, blushing a little. "Still having a hard time believing this is really happening." he adds with a goofy grin. "Good to see the kids happy." he adds. Sweet Pea earns a wave-over, even as he chuckles softly at Damon and Rose. "Think we've got a new romance brewing?" he asks those around him.

It'll take a while, before Leyla finally gets close enough to the newlywed couple to catch Marko's attention, and once he gives her the goahead, she approaches, package carefully tucked in next to her. Coming up just a short distance from Astra, she offers a smile to the smaller (can you believe it?) woman, and a matching one to Marko and Lunair. yes, she'll wait to be acknowledged. She was late, after all.

"Well… 'still true," Damon mutters. It's meant to be more to himself, but Rose can probably hear it. He gets up with her, though this time he doesn't offer an arm or anything unless she specifically requests assistance. "They're just up ahead, to your right a touch," he guides verbally. "And there's a couple people about ten paces ahead to your left, but you should be fine." Especially since people move away a bit, seeing that she's making her way with a whitestick, giving her ample clearance. "Beautiful ceremony, wasn't it?" he asks. That should be a safe enough topic of conversation.

"I'm very happy for you both," Astra murmurs. Yes, that was it. "And the girls are glad to be here." She nods her head, then moves along, letting others have their turn. SHe gives a little wave to Leyla, and then vanishes into the crowd, wiping again at her eyes. She finds refuge at her seat again, with her kids, and she picks up the harp again to play. What's a reception without music, after all?

Having not much to do but sort supplies and practice spatial relationships, Rose does pretty well navigating without being physically guided. As the two approach Lunair and Marko, she puts on her best smile. "Lieutenant Lunair," she calls out, and then realizes how silly that sounds in this environment. "Raine," she corrects herself. "Your vows were absolutely lovely. Thank you for sharing this celebration before the gods and before your friends, with me. I'm blessed to know you. I really am." She bounces a little on the balls of her feet, but doesn't get too adventurous with her enthusiasm, as she's in short heels. "Congratulations, Marko. 'Flasher', I think I heard them call you?"

Fortunately, Lunair isn't really going anywhere for a good long while. She smiles and blushes. "Thank you for coming out, Miss Rose," She bobs her head. "And don't worry, Lunair's as much my name as Raine," She offers. "We're happy you enjoyed it and I am glad to have met you." She goes quiet, to smile at Astra. "Thank you all much, and you play the harp well." Beam. Leyla gets a little smile, though Lun looks a bit dazed. She grins at Marko, "Who knows?"

"Yes, ma'am." Marko replies, nodding a little and still grinning like an idiot. Poor guy's cheeks are going to be sore tomorrow. "That's my call sign." he explains. "Got it trying to blind some Viper jocks before the balloon went up." he chuckles. "I'm glad you could make it. I'm glad all of you could." he adds.

A wicked grin breaks out on Damon's face when Rose mentions Flasher by callsign, like he's about to make a dirty joke - he catches himself in time, though, and smothers any notion of what he was about to say before it leaves his lips. Man, not offending people is hard work. "Sir, sir," he says, giving a nod to Lunair and Marko. "Beautiful wedding. Sorry I got a little, uh, carried away there at the end." He catches sight of Leyla (she does stand out in her flightsuit, after all) and gives her a wave in greeting.

Leyla offers the bag as soon as she manages to get close enough. "Don't open it until after the reception." That's all she's gonna say about that, but once the bag is, hopefully, handed over, she'll offer her own congratulations, "May each day be more beautiful than the one that came before." There, proper Taurian benediction, ftw. And a wave to Damon to boot.

"Poseidon is finally giving back to us," Rose says to the newlyweds, smile becoming a bit reserved. "After taking so much. But that's the nature of the sea." She glances again at Damon, and murmurs, "I really could use that drink right about now." Then a nervous smile flashed back at Lunair and Marko.

Marko suddenly realizes that, um, duh, Rose is blind, hence the white cane she's using and he reaches out to lay his hand gently and briefly on her shoulder. "So say we all." he replies firmly. "Don't sweat it Damon." he grins to her escort. "I really appreciated it." he says, nodding gratefully. "Thank Gods for the Academy, I didn't spend all that time at attention there learning not to lock my knees, I'd've keeled over." he laughs.

"Leyla!" he grins, accepting the offered bag. "Not until after, copy that. Leyla, this is Lunair, my dear Lunair, this is Leyla, AKA Sweet Pea, my more or less permanent pilot." he says by way of introductions.

Lunair smiles at that. "Thank you. Please enjoy the refreshments," She nods. She seems to understand. "So say we all." She looks amused at the locked knees comment. "Well, my first name is Raine but I think no one really uses that," She wrinkles her nose, still amused. "Pleased to meet you more formally. I actually think we sort of met before."

"Oh - right," Damon says. "Directly to your left, about twenty paces or so." He turns to walk alongside Rose, giving the now married couple a smile and a nod before letting others get in to congratulate them. Once they reach the table, he lists off what's available so she can make her choice - there's a few there that he can't name, though. He picks up one unknown glass and sniffs it. "Whew. Strong. I think this one's Aquarian rum. And that one looks to be some sort of Aerilon whiskey."

She plays the harp well better than she meets people, so Astra sticks to the harp. She bends to check on the twins, then lets Thera up to get more food for the lot of them. She begins another Aerilonese air, this one gently lilting.

"Twice now, I think it's been. But it's good to finally be able to put words to a name, and a face." And, quite likely, to meet the woman when it wasn't 1: raining, 2: full of gunfire or 3: under potential threat of death. Hooray for weddings. "I'm lucky to have Flasher as my ECO. He's really been a gift, since I transferred over."

"Aerilon whiskey?" Rose perks, glancing in the direction of what she thinks is the table. "If it's anything like what we used to drink at Colchis, it'll do just fine. Cramming all night for the most important exam of the semester, then drinking til we couldn't see the night after? Ugh, my liver hurts just thinking about it," she says, chuckling lightly and shaking her head.

"Oh, you two have met?" Marko says, looking back and forth between his bride and his front-seater. "I didn't know that…" he protests lamely, fearing there's been some comparing of notes. "But I'm really glad you could make it, even if it was late." he adds for Leyla's benefit.

Damon blinks, giving Rose an odd look. "Yeah?" he asks as if disbelieving that she would party and drink herself blind (hah!). "The whiskey it is, then." Distrustful of the glass already sitting there, he pours a fresh one for her. "How do you take it?" There's ice nearby, and some water, too, if she wants it diluted a bit. As for him, he decides to sample the Aerilon whiskey. After a careful sniff of the bottle, he picks up the pre-poured glass. "To the newlyweds; love and happiness," he toasts.

A nod at Leyla and a smile. Lunair seems to agree. "Yeah, it's definitely a pleasure," She admits. "And aye, that is he. I'm very lucky and glad he has a solid pilot." She admits with a smile. She seems pleased for everything. "It's alright, Marko. I would feel bad if I had to keep tabs on who you met," Shee notes. There's obviously a deep trust there. "And yes, we're glad. There's refreshments here too, please feel free. Each face is a blessing."

"Um, no ice or anything. Not on the rocks. Neat?" Rose falters with her alcohol terminology. "I could draw out the structure for C2H5OH in a second, or tell you the alcohol metabolization process, but I can never get the terminology straight." She shakes her head. "Endless taunting from my college friends about that." When Damon presents her drink, she lifts the glass towards him, smiling. "Love and happiness," she repeats. There's a brief pause as she appears to be considering, perhaps adding something to the toast, but she gives a tiny shake of her head. Sniff at the glass, then downs it in one shot like a champ. Wow.

The look Leyla gives Marko is priceless, as, perhaps, is the curl of her lips, holding a trace of that humour pilot and ECO seem to find so easily, one of the many reasons they work so well together, "She was in Bunny's raptor when Astra and the kids were picked up, remember?" So, no direct contact, but in passing, as they each went to their own bird. "And when we picked up that reporter in Aera Yadz." A shake of her head, "I think it sounds like the perfect time to go and get a bite, before I other secret rendezvous." Yes, definitely humour. "Again, my congratulations."

"Oh, stop it, both of you." Marko chuckles. "Seriously, you two keep this up, my ego's gonna throw my weight ratios off and I won't be able to fly." he laughs. "And I remember her being there, just not you two meeting." he shrugs a little. "Looks like the kids are settling in nicely." he comments, nodding in the direction of the young pie-eating machines. "Heh, maybe we should snag ourselves a piece while there's some left." he suggests. "And I am dying for a drink right now."

"Cee-two… Wait! I actually know that one!" Stop the press! Damon remembers a molecular formula buried deep in his brain from years and years ago. "That's alcohol, right? Uh, grain alcohol." He beams, proud of himself for remembering, grinning himself half to death. "See, I'm not just a hopeless ignorant mechanic, after all." He takes a slow sip of the whiskey, testing his waters. From his reaction, it's pretty strong - for him, anyway. He's about to say something to that effect to his blind companion when he sees that she's completely drained her glass. "You… really weren't kidding at all," he chuckles, pouring her some more.

"Bah," Lunair leans for a second. "It's not really ego boosting if it's true. And so I hear that they are," Lunair looks amused. "Yeah. I'm surprised at how fast it went," She admits. Guess folks aren't about to miss the party. "Do you want cherry, lime or…?" She offers. She's glad the pie's a hit. "Then let's get you one, you just came off CAP. You should too," She nods at Leyla. "Before the next shift cleans it all off. I hope it was peaceful?"

Rose rests her hand on her hip and strikes a proud pose for Damon, grinning like an idiot. "I grew up in a fishing community. There's three things to do. Fish, trawl for shellfish, and drink," she explains. "My father and my brother and my cousins made sure I knew how to drink before heading off to university. I'm a bit out of practice, and I didn't have a lot of time or energy to keep up when I was pursuing my Master's. So, um, yes. I should probably stop. After this one," the last bit added when Damon tops her glass off.

"Cherry you say?" Leyla reaches out an arm, as if to snag Marko's, though she's sure to telegraph the motion, as if to humorously entice Lunair to do the same, "Peaceful as you could ask for. The fleet is safe as houses. Now, Lieutenants Lunair," yes, she said Lieutenants, "I vote for pie. You wouldn't happen to have apple, would you?"

"Stop? You're just getting started!" Damon says. He's not even halfway through his glass yet - he's taking it slow. This whiskey's unfamiliar to him, not to mention the fact that it's mixing with whatever the other two glasses he took earlier were. He's not entirely sure that he can hazard an educated guess based on the foul taste alone. "Fishing community, huh? I wouldn't really know what that's like. I grew up in the, well, I guess you could call it the industrial zone. A lot of factories, a lot of pollution - not much water or stuff like that around."

"Pie sounds great." Marko smiles, risking further damage to his cheek muscles as he takes his Bride's hand and his pilot's arm. "I dunno what kinds we have, though." he confesses. "Have to consult my better half."

Rose isn't so quick to toss this next one back. "Industrial?" She repeats, shaking her head. "We didn't have anything like that. The cloest thing to a factory was the processing plants inland, and they were so far in on the mainland that you only saw them if you went to the city. No, just the sea, and the shoreline, and the islands." She looks down at her glass. "Plus, I haven't had anything to eat this afternoon, and liquor isn't a meal. Now stout… a good stout is bread in a glass," she says, peering up at Damon.

"There's some rhubarby stuff, cherry, blackberry and lime. I didn't find nearly enough apples, sorry," Lunair frowns. She seems a bit disappointed for a moment. She nods, and grins. "I'm glad to hear that. There's a few drinks here too," She offers and looks to Marko. "Let me help you cut a slice," She seems happy to serve the Marko some pie.

Leyla releases Marko's arm, once she arrives at the pies, and leaves him to the graces of his new wife, while she does, well, what pilots are want to do, and steers herself in the direction of a slice of cherry and a slice of blackberry, "I think I'll leave you two to enjoy the spoils of your celebration. But I'll be around to say goodbye, before the end."

"Hey, we're married now, we cut the pie together, remember?" Marko smiles to his new bride, leaning in to nuzzle her a little. "Glad you made it, Leyla." he says to his pilot.

"Sounds… peaceful," Damon says in response to what Rose describes. "Where I grew up on Tauron, there was really no… nature. No flowers, no water, just factories and smoke and waste." That's starting to get a little heavy, though, so he waves away the thoughts of home-that-used-to-be. "Well, there's - " he looks around. " - pie. There's pie. You can have whiskey and pie, how's that for a party?" He grins and drinks some more of his whiskey. Going reeeeeal slow on that glass. "I never got into stouts, to be honest. I like to have a beer that I don't need to chew before ingesting," he says teasingly. He looks at her to catch her reaction, not realizing that she's looking up at him already. Their eyes meet, though hers are cloudy and blind, and Damon forgets to exhale for a few seconds. Maybe the better part of a minute.

Beam. Lunair gently nuzzles Marko back. "Okay," She smiles. "Yes, it was a pleasure to see you," She agrees and waves. With that, she will slice pie with Marko. Aw.

Being as blind as she is, there's a certain recognition by Rose of the pause in their conversation. She ends up blushing through her makeup, either by embarassment or liquor (or both!), which ends in her tossing back her second glass. "I think, um, Andreas, that it's time to go. Despite how lovely it is out here and all, I am thinking that two glasses of alcohol is more than enough. And besides, sugar and alcohol don't mix. Especially not in fruity drinks. What do I look like, a girl?" She laughs, hopefully diffusing the moment. Although, after she places her glass down on the table, she hesitantly holds out her hand to Damon. Bold. Or alcohol. "Would you walk me back to the Raptors?"

Leyla offers a final wave to the couple, before she wanders off for pie and whatever happens to be in the offing that isn't laced with alcohol. Which, considering that it is a wedding reception, might only be water. But regardless, off she goes.

The moment is broken, and Damon laughs at what he assumes was a joke. Honestly, nothing Rose just said actually registered as words in his mind. But she's laughing, so he's laughing. He sets aside his glass - he didn't even manage to finish one in the span of time it took her to down two - and takes her hand with his arm. "Of course," he answers. The smile is audible in his voice. "You really do look fantastic tonight," he murmurs, "and it was good to see you again." Toward the Raptors he steers her, though he doesn't take her along the shortest and most efficient route.

It's a simple enough moment, Marko takes Lunair's hand as they both take up the knife and hack off a respectable-sized slice of pie to share. It's quickly evident that Marko has every intention of feeding his bride, still grinning as only the truly lovesick can.