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A Night To Remember
Tweet Topic Started: Apr 28 2009, 11:45 PM (1,541 Views)
Milliardo Peacecraft May 5 2009, 03:23 PM Post #21
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Only through greatest self-control did Mil manage to keep his hand from drifting to one of the alcoholic beverages laden on the tray. Water was good. It had to be. Even in the face of such pompous word-mongering. Yes, water.

He gulped back his tumbler, letting the ice clink against the sides. Then, he turned to Dorothy. "Are you quite certain you made the right choice aligning yourself with this?" he asked, gesturing toward Treize. He paused for a moment, then added, "Well, I reckon he could talk you to sleep on those restless nights we all have on occasion. Might come in handy, I suppose. Less chance of addiction and all."

So much for diplomacy.
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Dorothy Khushrenada May 5 2009, 05:30 PM Post #22
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Dorothy listened closely to Treize's speech. Surely it was the previous alcohol consumption that made her want to giggle, right? Whatever it was, she felt like giggling...a lot, but despite some inner Demon prodding her to go ahead and giggle, she kept silent with a serious face. Even when she thought Treize started to borrow from speeches he had made in the past.

It was difficult to keep a straight face when she imagined how her mother would react to such a speech. Anda Catalonia was not exactly a romantic—at least Dorothy had never seen her as such—however, she had repeatedly told her daughter that Treize did not care for her and that he was only using her. Summer, too, seemed to have started to have some doubts on their union. Picturing the looks on their faces nearly caused her to laugh out loud.

However, she held it together and was able to hide a little smirk as she took a drink.

"Are you quite certain you made the right choice aligning yourself with this? Well, I reckon he could talk you to sleep on those restless nights we all have on occasion. Might come in handy, I suppose. Less chance of addiction and all."

She smiled and put an arm around her groom. "Well, who wouldn't want to marry God?" She giggled a little. "He doesn't talk too much at night, though." She took another drink.

"Are you here alone, Mr. Milliardo? No one to play your Evenstar?" When she was younger, she would have jumped at the chance. She still would, actually. Even though her crush had mostly died over the years, Arwen would have been a much better outfit than her current one. She should have tailored Anda's tastes more carefully.

"Have you danced at all yet?"
 
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Treize Khushrenada May 5 2009, 07:07 PM Post #23
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If Treize's brilliant speech was not 100% successful, there was of course only one reason for that: this idiotic Zac Efron mask. Honestly, who could take anyone seriously dressed like this?

No matter; the time for speeches was on the campaign trail, not at a wedding party. He turned to his eternal friend—well, one of them—and seconded Dorothy's suggestion.

"Yes, please feel free to dance with the most beautiful belle of the ball, my friend. Assuming that Dorothy is receptive. I've had the first dance with her, and you should get the opportunity to take at least one spin around the dance floor."

Milliardo, I'll be waiting on the other side. You'll find me in the penthouse suite with a fine brandy, listening to Dvořák. Be sure to wipe your feet.
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Milliardo Peacecraft May 5 2009, 08:25 PM Post #24
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Almost shocked, Mil could see drunken giggles glittering in Dorothy's eyes. That she managed to hold it back to the outward appearance of nothing more than a smirk impressed him. The last time he'd been quite so toasted, well... yeah, baby scare. Let's not talk about that again.

"Well, who wouldn't want to marry God? He doesn't talk too much at night, though."


God? Milliardo shifted his gaze to Treize and snorted. It was fitting in its own way, yes. "A lofty post, indeed. Let's not discuss his nighttime talking habits, though, shall we?"

"Are you here alone, Mr. Milliardo? No one to play your Evenstar?"

"Alone, as ever, I'm afraid," he admitted, taking a smaller puff on the long stem of his pipe. "I have yet to find my Arwen." Really, if push came to shove, he'd take a Boromir or Legolas, even, but they seemed in short supply, as well.

"Have you danced at all yet?"

"Yes, please feel free to dance with the most beautiful belle of the ball, my friend. Assuming that Dorothy is receptive. I've had the first dance with her, and you should get the opportunity to take at least one spin around the dance floor."


Looking from one to the other, Mil held out his pipe to Treize. "Hold this for me?" Then he offered his hand to Dorothy. "M'lady, might you deign to give this scruffy beast a dance?"

What harm in a dance, right? It was something he certainly didn't have nearly enough opportunities to do, not in such company, anyway.
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Dorothy Khushrenada May 6 2009, 12:00 AM Post #25
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"Yes, please feel free to dance with the most beautiful belle of the ball, my friend. Assuming that Dorothy is receptive. I've had the first dance with her, and you should get the opportunity to take at least one spin around the dance floor."

"M'lady, might you deign to give this scruffy beast a dance?"


After setting her glass down on a tray, she gave Treize a kiss, took his hand, and gave it a quick squeeze. Then she gave Mr. Milliardo her hand and walked with him the short distance back to the dance floor where the orchestra was starting the next dance.

"Scruffy beast, indeed," she nearly scoffed as the dance began. "I must say that now that I think about it, your costume is most apt. Princes masquerading as common men with some of the rougher occupations: ranger...rancher." Those were close! "Though one got to be king in the end." She smiled a little. "Vice President will certainly be close...perhaps you can one day be President even—once Treize tires of the position, that is." She couldn't bear to lose another husband, and Treize would never get caught doing something illegal.

"How is the ranch doing? I haven't had much time to catch up with you lately. When you're around, it seems you're usually off with Treize or else I'm busy with Anda. Did you come with Miss Relena? I haven't seen her since the reception, but she told me she may not be able to make it. I don't remember her excuse anymore. Maybe it was exhaustion. I know I'm tired after today."

She glanced over at her husband and smiled again. "How do you stay awake with him on the campaign trail, Mr. Milliardo? I've been using an iPod. He never seems to notice."
 
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Milliardo Peacecraft May 6 2009, 09:52 PM Post #26
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One hand placed lightly along Dorothy's svelte hip, the other holding her hand aloft, Milliardo swept her with gliding grace over the dancefloor. He found it a comfort that the steps seemed drawn up intact from a place deeply ingrained rather than faltering and reeking of neglect.

"I must say that now that I think about it, your costume is most apt. Princes masquerading as common men with some of the rougher occupations: ranger...rancher. Though one got to be king in the end."

As Dorothy commented on his costume, Mil laughed and nodded. "I thought it as appropriate as I was going to get. And my kingdom seems to be doing well without a king. Far be it from me to step in where unnecessary. I'll happily leave Gondor to her Steward." Unlike some he could name, but Mil bit his tongue on that one. He'd already been quite mouthy enough for the time being.

"Vice President will certainly be close...perhaps you can one day be President even—once Treize tires of the position, that is."


Mil sighed, twirling Dorothy through a spin before catching her up again. "Then let's hope he never does."

"How is the ranch doing?"

Thank all that was holy for the wonder that was a change of subject. He let her finish a ramble about not being able to keep up with him before responding. "The ranch is busy with that new filly, helping the neighbor with an upcoming cattle drive, and the approaching rodeo season." With a smirk, he added, "All very interesting to a lady of your station, I'm certain."

Another turn, another elegant glide, a wisp of platinum hair escaping the edge of his still raised hood.

"Did you come with Miss Relena?"

"I was going to ask the same of you," he answered, a small frown crossing his mouth. "The last time I managed to speak more than a few brief words in passing was over a week ago."

"I haven't seen her since the reception, but she told me she may not be able to make it. I don't remember her excuse anymore. Maybe it was exhaustion. I know I'm tired after today."

He followed her glance toward Treize, not surprised to find the man maintaining his obnoxiously arrogant stance of benevolent god come to reign on Earth. Mil tried to recall whether Treize had always been thus, but found his earliest memories of him a bit too hazy through the distance of time to decipher correctly.

"How do you stay awake with him on the campaign trail, Mr. Milliardo? I've been using an iPod. He never seems to notice."

"I amuse myself by way of poking holes into his more grandiose plans," Mil told her, guiding her through another twirl. "I think once he actually looked at me with a bit of annoyance because of it, but I can't be sure. It was too quickly plastered over with that Good Guy mask of his."

A brilliant flash from one side drew his attention to what was undoubtedly yet another gathering of Gundam pilots, minus two. They did seem to gravitate to one another, certainly. Where were the others? A glance found him number four, but five was apparently missing for the moment.

"Well," he said, nodding toward the atrociously redheaded Yuy, "I hope our friendly photographer over there doesn't have any nefarious plots to hatch come the morning's tabloids." Not that he had any clue about Heero's dastardly deeds as a paparazzo in the past.
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Treize Khushrenada May 7 2009, 12:27 AM Post #27
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Treize meanwhile stood on the sidelines holding Milliard's pipe and watching his wife dance with his best friend. His thoughts on the matter were mixed; were they having a good time? He hoped so. Were they having too much of a good time? They better not.

Funny how possessive he felt about her now. When they were children, or rather young adults, they'd spent some vacations together, and he often wondered whether Zechs and Dorothy would ever get together in an amorous fashion. At the time, he'd thought the possibility very romantic. Now it filled him with dread. Not only would he become a laughing stock in the media, but he couldn't bear the thought of Dorothy being with someone else.

Surely his eternal friend wouldn't seduce her away from him, though? Treize wasn't so sure now that he saw them together. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now without making a scene. There was no choice but to play the part of the gracious friend. With a charming smile plastered firmly on his face, he'd just stand here and nurse his drink until they returned...

...all the while secretly seething.

Milliardo, I'll be waiting on the other side. You'll find me in the penthouse suite with a fine brandy, listening to Dvořák. Be sure to wipe your feet.
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Dorothy Khushrenada May 7 2009, 01:45 PM Post #28
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"I'll happily leave Gondor to her Steward."

"Vice President will certainly be close...perhaps you can one day be President even—once Treize tires of the position, that is."

"Then let's hope he never does."

Dorothy frowned a little. Most politicians she knew in his position loved dearly to talk about how great they would be in the position they strove for—and the one above it—hoping to gain another vote or simply practicing or something. Mr. Milliardo seemed, to her, happy enough to ignore his place in the upcoming presidential election. Why would he not want the vice-presidency? Why would he not want to be president? It perplexed her. All her life she had been taught that power was what she needed and that in her hands, it would be wielded correctly.

"The ranch is busy with that new filly, helping the neighbor with an upcoming cattle drive, and the approaching rodeo season. ... All very interesting to a lady of your station, I'm certain."

"Horses interest me very much," she insisted. "I'm sure you find this hard to believe, Mr. Milliardo, but I've never been to a rodeo. What is it like? When I lived in America, I saw a few commercials for some, but I never went to any. Jack seemed to enjoy them, though, but he had been enamored with cowboys since he was a little boy." She moved through the steps of the dance without much thought. How many times had she been through these steps? "How dangerous is a cattle drive these days?" She had seen a romantic movie about a cattle drive once, but it had been period piece. Surely the job was much safer these days?

"Well, I hope our friendly photographer over there doesn't have any nefarious plots to hatch come the morning's tabloids."

She glanced to where he indicated, from where the flash had come. There was almost something unsettling the way the former Gundam pilots congregated with each other at such gatherings. Of course, only three were together at the moment, one was away from them (surely about to return), and another seemed to be absent from her sight. Still, there was something about the gatherings that made her pause. She couldn't put her finger on why. Perhaps it was just from being their enemy a decade earlier.

"As long as Treize and I are portrayed in a good light, I'll be amused with how everyone else is handled and won't have to sue," she jested. Or perhaps he's hoping to find Miss Relena and photodocument their "time together," she thought. She very nearly said it but thankfully bit her tongue before it escaped her lips. Mr. Milliardo would not appreciate such a joke about his sister.

"It's a rather large flash for his costume," she noted. "If he's not in tabloids, perhaps he's writing a tell-all book."
 
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Sgt. Hatred May 7 2009, 10:22 PM Post #29
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Sgt. Hatred moved through the crowd quickly. His emotions were spiraling out of control, he had to show Princess Tinyfeet that he loved her, and what was the best way to do that? To kill someone, that ought to turn her on. The large hunking guy had a firearm right on the side of his belt, no one bothered to check it on the way in since he had placed a little orange tip on it, which did nothing, just made it look fake. Sgt. Hatred now began to mumble to himself "Gatta take out Zach Efron. . . " He actually knew who Zach Efron was, he did have a huge crush on him. Zach was the oldest man he has ever loved. . . the second oldest was 13 and he was one of the hansen boys. Sgt. Hatred now moved closer to the one in the Zach Efron mask, he noticed a pipe sitting in his hands and apparently he was watching someone. This was good, this means he would catch him off guard.

Even though Sgt. Hatred was upset right now, it shown in him that he used to be a soldier. He could still carry out his mission and think about nothing but the mission, even though he was longing for Princess Tinyfeet. Well, now was the time to have her back in his life.

Sgt. Hatred moved to the middle of the dance floor and began yelling "I WILL HAVE YOU BACK PRINCESS TINYFEET!!! THIS IS FOR YOU!" He quickly removed the firearm from the holster on his side, his arm now swinging madly as he began to fire shots in the direction of Zach Efron. He would kill the bastard and have Princess Tinyfeet running back into his arms, and he would be happy again. . . .
Edited by Sgt. Hatred, May 7 2009, 10:23 PM.
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Treize Khushrenada May 7 2009, 10:29 PM Post #30
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Treize was disrupted from his brooding over Zechs and Dorothy by a cry about tiny feet. It was loud and it was close, but it sounded more like the babbling of a drunken lover than a death threat.

Until it was followed by gunshots.

This must have been history's penultimate Lincoln moment, when a crazed gunman warbled some nonsense upon a stage, and most in the theater believed it to be part of the show. All but those in the presidential box, that is. Treize wasn't quite in the box, but he was so close he could feel it. He could see the velvet seat cushions and imagine how it would feel to sit in those seats, with Dorothy at his side and their children peering over the rail trying to get a better view. He'd imagined the presidential box a million times, and there was rarely an assassin in the picture.

Only sometimes there was. Why hadn't he taken better precautions tonight? Especially after what had happened at the last ball? He'd secured a bodyguard for his wife and daughters, but not for himself. Did he really think he was immortal?

Perhaps he did. He'd cheated death at least twice before. Three times, if you included the attempt on his life when he was 17. Heero Yuy was the gunman then, wasn't he? Treize had landed in a hospital with Leia Barton for a nurse, and somehow Mariemaia had come from that. At least Marie wasn't here tonight, nor Anda. He wouldn't have to worry about them. Only Dorothy...

Only Dorothy.

Thing was, he knew he'd cheated death again tonight. The assassin appeared to be aiming at his head, and he might have hit his mark if he wasn't shooting wild. This was no sharpshooter, or it wouldn't take so many bullets. This was a man distracted by passion; he was no perfect soldier. There was nothing more beautiful than a soldier with no distractions, but this buffoon was most definitely distracted. Perhaps by tiny feet, whatever that meant.

It was all irrelevant to Treize. As he turned in surprise, he took a shot directly in the chest and crumpled to the floor, all the while laughing at his own recklessness. He'd been a fool to court disaster tonight. He'd been a fool like Kennedy riding around in the back of an open car in a presidential motorcade. He'd been a fool like Lincoln sitting in the presidential box of a theater in a town so close to the enemy's border there were disgruntled vets from the other side wandering the streets outside the theater at the moment he was shot.

"So other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?"   Was the play really worth it? Maybe the play was the thing.

It had been a play about a man in love with his own cousin.

>>

Milliardo, I'll be waiting on the other side. You'll find me in the penthouse suite with a fine brandy, listening to Dvořák. Be sure to wipe your feet.
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