ArchivedLogs:Save the Date

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Save the Date

Hopefully with less flames

Dramatis Personae

Aloke, Mallory

2014-03-26


Aloke and Mallory officially begin wedding planning

Location

<XS> Aloke and Mallory's Room - FL3


Just inside the door is a small side table set by itself in a relatively prominent position in the room, where one could easily visit either on the way in, or out. A skilled, hand-painted, 8x10 image of Lakshmi sits on the table, leaning against the wall. Just in front of the painting is a shallow, silver bowl of water with white and yellow flower petals floating on the surface. The bowl is flanked a pair of white candles.

The living room sports a large, soft L-bend couch in a dark gray color. A simple coffee table, often dotted with papers waiting to be graded, sits at just about knee hight in front of the couch. The couch presents comfortable seating facing a good-sized flat screen TV mounted to the wall. Flanking the TV, and then covering most of the walls not taken up with hanging art or /doorways/ are bookshelves filled with a huge collection of neatly arranged books. The collection is perhaps a bit over organized, sorted first by genre, then by author, and then series - it screams A Librarian Did This. Among the books, in the occasional empty spaces are little trinkets and knick-knacks that add a touch of personality to the otherwise obsessively organized shelves. At the back of the living room is a well-appointed kitchenette. It doesn't have an actual oven, but it does have a couple of stove top burners, a small refrigerator with a microwave mounted above it, and sink. A round, polished wood table with two open back chairs make for a cozy little dining area; an old, worn looking teapot sits in the center, a small African violet growing happily in it - one sprout has even ventured out the spout to bloom in cheery purple. The fridge is often adorned with some of Aloke's favorite student work, usually a printout from a digital photograph of the work. Occasionally, a particularly good essay or poem from one of Mallorys students is tacked to the door as well.

Spring may have sprung last week, but someone apparently forgot to inform Westchester of the season change. Outside it is quite frigid, with a fresh dusting of snow clinging to the non-paved surfaces in a glittering blanket of white, the sunlight shimmers and gleams brilliantly. All the shades on the windows have been tossed open to let the early spring light flood the room, making the cozy little suite of rooms quite warm and comfortable despite the unseasonable chill.

The living area, however, looks not unlike a battle has been waged between warring bridal magazines, fought with spreadsheets, invitation samples, fabrics, and countless pictures of flowers. A yellow legal pad is half filled with random notes in a neat script, the pen abandoned across it midway through a phrase. The little coffee table in front of the L-shaped sofa covered in what were once neat stacks of papers in different colored folders and various magazines from Bangalore, England, and the US, all focusing on bridal and wedding trends of the last year or more. In the middle of the walls of paper goods is a brand new looking iPad, custom designed /just/ for this purpose - it bears a bright red and gold brocade case and skin, reminiscent of the dread dream wedding book Mallory had encountered in India, though lacking the peeling Lisa Frank stickers of the original. Somehow, both Aloke and Mallory’s full names were embossed on the front case before the device, and more importantly the PDF containing scans of /every/ page from that book, had been presented to them before they left for home. It does not look like it has been turned on yet today.

This lunch meeting appears to have gotten started without one of the concerned parties, as Mallory is now draped lazily along one side of the sofa on her stomach, her attention turned from the wedding plans and towards the new paperback novel she has started. Rather than sit around their shared room in her work clothes, Mallory has opted for a pair of fitted black yoga pants and a dark gray tank top, with a cream colored silk robe half falling off one shoulder. Her hair is pulled back into a neat little braid, accentuating her curling horns and the delicate little gold-rimmed reading glasses that perch at the end of her nose. On the end table nearest her sits an empty cereal bowl with the last traces of what looks suspiciously like chocolate-cherry ice cream.

Aloke arrives through the front door with a mid-sized portfolio folder under one arm, most likely homework to be graded later. He's in pretty standard uniform for him, khakis, black button-up and no shoes. He was looking pretty chipper when he came in, but now, his eyes go wide at everything spread out in the living room. He just pauses for a moment, blinking at the battleground. "Oh… Oh boy." He sets his folder down and picks his way to the couch.

"Hey Mallo…" he says softly, not really sure what state of mind or emotion she might be in at the moment. "I didn't realize I was running late." And he's not. In fact, he's five minutes earlier than what was originally discussed. "Did you get out of class early today?"

As the door opens, Mallory looks up over the top of her reading glasses, grinning brilliantly when Aloke walks in - though she seems pretty content to stay right where she is on the sofa. “Hello love,” she greets in a warm, contented voice, still smiling, though a bit confused at the question of getting out early, “Oh, no. You aren’t late. I had a student bail on an advising meeting before lunch, so I had an unexpected half a free period.” She glances over at the stacks of papers, grimacing faintly at the mess she’d left there, an embarrassed blush darkening her cheeks.

“Had been… trying to find dresses that might work,” comes the quiet admission, ducking her head as she bookmarks her place in her novel and sets the book aside on the end table. Shifting to prop herself up a bit more on her elbows, looking at Aloke, her smile flickering for a brief moment, “I sort of went a bit batty going through some of the magazines, so I set everything aside and…” Her voice trails off and she glances at the empty ice cream bowl and novel, “Ah, needed a distraction. Apologies for getting us started in the middle of a bit of, well, at least it’s organized chaos. I know where everything is.”

Aloke's eyebrows climb up slightly as Mallory explains having done all this in just 20 or 30 minutes, but he doesn't comment beyond, "Oh…" He smiles and perches on the edge of the couch she's sprawled on and rests his hand in the center of her back. "Well, we'll have to get something custom, no matter what..." He nods to himself, making it not so much a question as just thinking out loud. "I have to believe /someone/ in New York is willing to seamstress for a mutant. Oh wait, you heard the big news right? Alison Blair outed herself at that award ceremony the other day! Her seamstress /had/ to know what she was and I bet…" Aloke's sighs and his tone goes a little deflated, "All we have to do is contact a world-renowned pop star and ask her for her seamstress' number…" He gets up and heads for the kitchenette. "I'm gonna need some of that ice cream myself at this rate."

“I’ve mentioned before that I enjoy research projects, right?” Mallory offers with an apologetic shrug, shuffling forward to rest her head against his leg when he perches on the couch. “A lot of wedding dresses need to be modified, anyway, in order to fit. I mean, it’s not /that/ much more to ask to have a spot for my tail added,” she explains, rolling to her side and swatting fruitlessly at the nearest wedding magazine on the stack - these all from this season, at least - before sighing and sitting up properly on the sofa, pulling her legs up beside her, tail curled demurely over her ankles. She smiles after Aloke as he gets up to head for the kitchenette, finally picking up the magazine she was reaching for and leafing through page after page of perfectly coifed, scrawny pale human models in extravagant white dresses.

“You know she graduated from here, right? A good while back, but I thought I recognized that name from some old records,” Mallory offers offhand, her attention on yet another article about just the right shade of white for just the right perfect bride, her brow furrowing slightly. “She might be more willing to help than you think, though it could be a bit difficult to get in touch with her, anyway,” she says, quietly flipping through the pages. A gentle smirk on her lips, she gets up to follow Aloke to the kitchenette. Setting her bowl in the sink first, she wraps her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his shoulder, and asking quietly, “You doing okay?”

"Me?" Aloke asks, dishing a couple scoops of ice cream into a bowl for himself. It's a lot, but he's also pretty sure he won't have to eat it all himself. "Yeah of course, I'm fine. I just worry about you. I mean, all I have to do is pick out a tux and show up on time. So far anyway. I'm just hoping you won't forget to delegate a little. I'm here. Use and abuse me." He grins and sits back down on the couch, spooning a bite of ice cream for himself, and then holding out another spoonful for Mallory. "I can tell you've had a lot on your mind the last few days, and I hope you know you can share the burden with me. All the planning and everything else. We haven't gotten up and said it in front of everyone yet, but my proposal? That's me already promised to spending the rest of my life with you. That means we get to share the heavy loads." To punctuate his point, he dips his finger in his ice cream and dabs just a tiny bit on the tip of Mallory's nose.

“Oh no no,” Mallory chuckles, accepting the spoonful of ice cream with a cheeky smile, settling down on the sofa beside Aloke, reaching forward to pick up a stack of papers. “You are not getting out of helping plan. I’m not intending to abuse you - it’s your wedding, too,” she says with a giggle leaning against him, “Not going to just make all the decisions.” Curling up and making herself comfortable, Mallory is nestled up against Aloke with her stack of papers, eyeing his fresh bowl of ice cream hungrily between talking. “Seriously. If you leave all this up to me, we’re doing vows in Olde English. No one will be happy with that,” she giggles, flipping open a day planner, marked up with exam, vacation, and important dates in various colors and highlights. There is a quiet moment, marked by Mallory bonking her head against Aloke’s shoulder, at his reassurance, “Thank you.” Then there is ice cream on her nose, steaming slightly on contact with her body heat, and the pensive moment is broken. She giggles, sticking her tongue out at him before trying to lick the ice cream off her nose, rather fruitlessly. “Ach! Gah!” she exclaims, burrowing her face into his side - work clothes be damned. Face still buried against his side, she snorts, holding up the date planner, “We should probably pick a date soon.”

Aloke nods when it sounds like he'll have plenty to do, and just snuggles in closer when Mallory wipes the ice cream off on his shirt. It's only fair, after all. "And no, we're not doing it in Ye Oldey Fartey English," he says in a terrible, pompous English accent. He chuckles and gets his smartphone out, scrolling through his calendar app. "Yeah, well how about this summer? In August maybe?" he asks without any notion of how close that might seem to someone planning a wedding.

“Bite me,” Mallory responds in her naturally pompous sounding Oxford accent, smiling and flipping through her old fashioned book through the months, laughter in her voice, “I do /not/ sound like that. And neither does Shakespeare.” She glances over the month of August, chewing on her lower lip as she reads, “Well, we’ve got a bit of a break during August, I suppose. Might be a bit toasty, but you don’t seem to mind.” Pausing to steal another bite of his ice cream, she looks through the dates, frowning slightly, flipping back and forth between the current date and August and counting silently, “9th is too close to end of term, we’ll still be grading things. What about the 16th or 23rd? Likely the former, as that gives us the most time off between terms.” She runs a hand through her hair, glancing up at him while toying with one of her horns nervously. “Gives us… about… five months,” Mallory says, her voice quavering slightly, “We’re keeping this small, right?” There might be a quiet note of ‘please?’ in the tone of the question.

"Oh yeah," Aloke says, nodding. "The 16th works. And we can keep it small. Pretty much everyone I know now works here. So that just leaves, mom and dad, Rajani and Devadutt - so, plus four on my end." There's a brief pause, and then Aloke keeps talking, probably keenly aware that Mallory won't want to talk about her parents at this point. "But how do you feel about having the whole thing right here? I mean, not /right/ here," he says, grinning around at their room. "But, it would look amazing if the ceremony was in the grand hall, and you came down the main stairs to join me… And then, we could have the reception out by the lake! It should be a bit cooler by the lake at least. Or maybe we should have it in the banquet hall. I dunno. Just some ideas. What were you thinking so far?" He also steals back the ice cream and tries to take several bites quickly to 'teach Mallory a lesson' and prove that he'll win, by eating the ice cream. Except, his plan has mainly just resulted in a brain-freeze headache.

At the agreement on a date, Mallory smiles giddily, flipping to August 16 in her day planner and circling it in bright blue ink, before writing ‘Wedding’ in perfectly neat cursive, the ‘i’ dotted with a little heart. “So,” she says with a nervous chuckle, leaning against Aloke, “We’ve got a date. Pretty good start at least, right?” Her eyes glance towards the alphabetized battle ground on the table in front of them, a guilty little chuckle escaping that falls quiet at the discussion of who to bring. “Everyone I care about is at this school. Thomas is pretty much the only ‘must have’ on my side,” she says quietly, fidgeting with her day planner, “My parents haven’t accepted a single letter I’ve sent them - every single one has been marked ‘returned to sender’ and arrived back here.” Shaking her head, she shrugs a little, closing her book and tossing it back to the table, still holding on to a bridal magazine, “Not that it would be good for them to come. Thomas would be in serious trouble if they knew we were speaking, let alone working together."

Running a hand through Aloke's hair as he chows down on the ice cream, Mallory chortles softly, "You're going to give yourself a massive headache, love." Of course, her other hand takes advantage of the distraction to steal a heaping spoonful of ice cream for herself. "I'm not so certain that will fly - the school is still at least a little bit secretive as to just /what/ it is," she muses quietly, idly leafing through the magazine, "Though it could be worth asking, worst they could say is 'no,' I suppose. And there's the matter of some students who remain on campus over the breaks." Pondering for a moment, she pauses in her flipping through the magazine, the page a full color spread of a woodland wedding, trees dripping with flowers and lights around a perfect human couple midway through their vows. "What about the clearing? Where we did that picnic last year? As a place for the ceremony at least?" she offers quietly, looking at the massive glossy photo spread.

"Oh wow…" he says, pouring over the woodland wedding setting. He smiles and turns back to Mallory when she mentions the picnic. "The picnic? Yeah, that would be kind of perfect actually. We'd just have to tie up the edge of your dress. It was kind of a walk and I'd hate for your dress to get snagged or scuffed or something. And I'm sure we could enlist some of the kids to help set things up. The ones who stay over break." Aloke snaps his fingers and beams a smile at her. "We could set up a wedding pavilion closer to the clearing! You could get changed in there and not have to go as far." Aloke becomes very animated, pointing at the picture and describing all the little details they could add or modify for the day.

After a bit of rambling on, Aloke sits back with wonder in his eyes. "Wow. We're really doing this, aren't we?" He leans down to give Mallory a quick kiss, sits up and says, "I don't think I've ever been happier than right now."

“The train of the dress? Only a problem if I have a full length ball gown, really. I was thinking something tea-length, or possibly a trumpet gown, without a mass of crinolines and layers,” Mallory says, gesturing the silhouettes of the dresses in the air. She stops and raises an eyebrow mostly at herself, laughing, “Oh dear, the frilly wedding terminology appears to be seeping in already. Run for it.” Regardless, she does put a sticky note on the edge of the garden party picture, nodding, “There are a couple other examples I know I’ve seen. If we like that idea, I’ll see about going through for specifics.”

Mallory smiles at his animated explanation, leaning into the kiss with a chuckle. “Yes, we really are,” she responds, leaning against him with a soft sigh, a gentle smile on her lips as she looks at the daunting pile of papers, “We really are.”