wedding bell blues

Loren applauded sarcastically at the end of Sunjata’s speech. "Wow. Brilliant oratory, that." Words practically dripping derision, the summoner let his hands fall. "How very noble and self-sacrificing of you." Then he grinned, but it wasn't a happy expression. Quite the opposite in fact: there was something almost predatory about it. "Oh wait, we could've avoided this whole ridiculousness if you'd been willing to sacrifice one more thing: your stubborn pride." Letting out an annoyed huff, he grabbed a stool and plunked himself down on it. "Great, you have a diagnosis. Let me heal you." He drummed a hand on the wood of the bar for a moment before nodding decisively. "Fine. Since you both seem committed to this disaster, the least we can do for you, for her, for everyone really, is to make this wedding not suck." Peering at the bartender, the Launceleyn's eyes narrowed. "Do you have rings? A venue? A cake? An officiant? A suit? Vows? Are you planning on conducting the ceremony in the traditional Northaven style, your own world's style, or a mixture of both?" LOREN Not quite an open book