Despite the last-minute change of venue - when they'd finally found a date that worked, the contractors had run into snags at the Boards, and they'd ended up in Jono's world, at a banquet hall in Westchester that it had taken all of Hannibal's persuasion and Jono's reputation to get them - they were set up beautifully. The place was wood-panelled, and decorated in rich fabrics of black and light grey offset by twists of saffron and dark yellow roses. Candles (electronic ones) flickered at the ends of each row of seats that had been set up.

The dining room had been set up in the same colors as the main hall – silver-grey tablecloths with black and saffron plaid cloth napkins, china edged in the same colors, and black vases with flame-like saffron-colored flowers rising up from them.

Look, Hannibal had been forbidden from cooking for his own wedding; nobody had said a thing about decorating!

The tables had all been laid out with prominent place-cards at them, to let people know where they ought to sit. Not that anybody was enforcing it, but if Logan and Karla ended up at the same table, it would be no-one's fault but their own.

Eliot	Eliot had prepared plenty of appetizers for people to snack on while they gathered, found their seats, and made small talk with their tablemates. There were mini asparagus and gruyere tarts, tiny yorkshire puddings, and lavender and earl grey scones. For dinner, guests had three options: Honey-soy broiled salmon, spring lamb with a cranberry, tomato, and thyme crust, or vegetarian shepherds pie, all served with smashed peas and roasted sweet potato wedges with saffron aioli. Because you didn't have a theme like "saffron" without it showing up in the meal somewhere. The wedges were served wrapped in a cone of edible rice-paper newsprint, ala classic British street food, complete with traditional wooden chip forks. Eliot had even shelled out to have a J and an H inscribed on each fork. Despite pleading "not a baker" when Hannibal asked about the cake, he still prepared – or arranged to be prepared, in the case of the first one – a few extra treats for dessert as well: a traditional Lithuanian šakotis and some cream-stuffed strawberries Sophie insisted were must haves for a proper British wedding – especially one that fell right in the middle of strawberry season. Over all, he was pleased with the results. He hadn't even had to use his appetizers to fight off a vicious contract killer with a grudge, this time. He just hoped that everyone enjoyed eating it as much as he'd enjoyed making it.
Hannibal	Fortunately, the vicious killers were the ones getting married, this time. And neither of them had a grudge against Eliot. Which didn't mean Hannibal wasn't going to wander through and smell everything ahead of time. And give those forks and newsprint a side-eye. Such a side-eye.
Eliot	That expression was entirely unsurprising to Eliot. "They're traditional, man, trust me. Jono's gonna get a kick out of 'em."
Hannibal	Hannibal sighed. "I'm certain he will." And since Jono couldn't actually eat the food, he might as well get his kicks from looking at it. He shook his head and chuckled, then held his hand out to Eliot. "It all looks and smells wonderful; thank you."

[OOC: It's their wedding day! Free to attend for anybody who thinks they might have gotten an invitation, or even those who might not have.The more, the merrier! Portalocity will make it easy for you, since they're hell-bent on making Hannibal happy. There will be hijinks within, naturally. We couldn't resist. Preplayed with the lovely and wonderful furnaceface, vdistinctive, atreideslioness, and that_oldsaying!]

Arrivals | Hannibal's dressing room | Jono's dressing room | The ceremony | BUT THEN! | Aftermath | OOC