Years & Years (Cosmic Penguin & R✿bbit)

Mundane Monster

The most uninspiring of monsters
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Beginner
  2. Elementary
  3. Intermediate
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Transgender
Genres
Fantasy, Modern Fantasy, Animal based, Scifi, Modern, Horror, Comedy, Slice of life.
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Thanks For Coming to
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Enjoy the Reception!

"It's a matter of principles, Beau." Sunny gritted out as her best friend implored her to make nice with the other family, for the fifth time that afternoon. It's not as though she'd ignored the Evans' completely. She'd greeted George and given him a spiritually fulfilling hug. She thought that was good enough, but apparently stalking right past that woman canceled out all the good vibes she had presented to her father's new husband. Her father had even taken her aside to hiss angrily at her. Something he hadn't done since...Well since forever! All because she wouldn't talk to her. Honestly they were acting as though she was snubbing George and not his stuffy daughter who's aura was basically akin to stale bread!

"Since when were you concerned with principles?" Her best friend shot back. "Sunny, baby. I love you and I love when you put your foot down, but now is not the time. You're making things super awkward. Literally-

"Figuratively." Sunny interjected, earning herself a dirty look from her friend.

"Figuratively, most people have noticed that the grooms' kids haven't spoken to each other once. And look at Joey!" Beau gestured at the groom who's face was tight as he danced with his new husband on the glittering sandy beach "You and I both know that this should be one of the happiest days of his life and his face should not be looking like that."

Sunny deflated when she saw her dad's face and even though she wasn't close enough to read his aura, she could tell he was a little upset. "Fine." She snapped, turning on her heel and stalking towards...Clara. When she reached the other woman, she gripped the glass she was holding tighter and cleared her throat to get the other woman's attention.

"Clara. You're looking..." Honestly her aura was as bland as always. "well."
 
c l a r a

Clara was standing by herself, a glass of champagne in one hand, looking out over the reception of her Father’s marriage to Joey Green of all people in the world. Everything was wrong. Or well not everything. The vows, while not the best written, had been beautiful and she liked the suits and how they looked nice with the tablecloths and the chairs and she liked that her Father was happy. But a lot of things could be better. That was a more positive way to phrase it. She thought the flower arrangements were all over the place, the flower symbolism mismatched and not even in favour of matching the flowers prettily together due to shape and colour. And the invitations would have been better if she had been allowed to work out a font for them. And she could have asked Dennis to make some of the desserts.

So, It wasn’t that the reception was bad, it was that her father should have informed her about the wedding earlier. But that certainly wasn’t her main issue, no her main issue was who he was marrying, or rather what family he married into, and who was in that family.

Clara had been throwing discrete glances towards Sunny throughout the reception, as she was walking around, probably telling people about their aura or something else incredibly silly like that. She had also brought a friend. Clara hadn’t. Now she thoroughly regretted that, especially since Sunny was coming up to her to talk.

Clara could easily tell Sunny wanted to talk to her just as little as Clara wanted. But they both knew they were doing it for a reason. Their fathers. Clara loved her dad and she wanted him to be happy on his wedding day but she could tell he was nervous she was upsetting her with this whole thing, because she knew he hated upsetting her.

“Thank you,” Clara said because it was the appropriate response to that statement, “You do as well,” she got quiet, hoping that was enough and that they could move on, but she glanced over at the dancefloor and got a glimpse of her dad’s face. He looked a little more relaxed in his new husband’s arms….

“The wedding was really nice,” if talking to Sunny would make their dads happy on their wedding day, she would do it, then hopefully they could go back to pretending the other didn’t exist, “And I feel like the reception has been really successful so far,” her tone was a little flat, but it was something.
 
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S u N n Y
She had had more fulfilling conversations with the self checkout at Whole Foods. Would it have killed Clara to be at least a little vibrant? She was just so matter of fact--the reception has been successful so far? What was she a wedding analyst? Sunny wanted to call her out on her 'assessment' of the event but bit her tongue. She hadn't come over to fight with the other woman. She just needed to show everyone that there was no bad blood between them. Thirty minutes was sufficient, right? Of course it was! That was more than enough time to satisfy her father! But...She would need some help.

Tipping back her glass, Sunny downed the remaining champagne and flagged down a server for two more glasses. "EHM!" A voice interrupted her and she froze like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. Glancing over the waiter's head, Sunny saw Beau holding up one finger and mouthing something along the lines of 'No net trunk!' [Note: He said 'Don't get drunk']

'Huh?' She mouthed back.

Beau mimicked having drinks in both hands, then shook one hand effectively 'dropping' the other glass. Getting the hint Sunny glared at him and put one of the drinks back on the tray, staring wistfully as the server walked off with her 'help'.

Sipping her remaining glass daintily, she shifted from foot to foot. Despite being a radio host, Sunny had no clue what to say. Best to start with small talk... "So...How've you been?" She paused and tapped a finger against her chin. "You're an accountant right? Or is it librarian? You know what, it's tax preparer isn't it?" She rambled, rifling through the most lackluster jobs she could thing of. She wasn't really trying to insult Clara, it was just that she couldn't imagine her doing anything remotely interesting.



 
c l a r a

Clara watched Sunny’s failed attempt at interaction with a man, presumably a date or friend across the room. He was very clearly mouthing for her not to drink too much, but Sunny didn’t seem to understand until he physically acted it out. Clara felt like she actually somewhat got her annoyance. Having this conversation while tipsy would probably be favourable. But she wasn’t as irresponsible as to get drunk at her father’s wedding.

So she had to force a hopefully pleasant smile completely sober after Sunny had decided to try to figure out her profession. It was a brief smile, to say the least.

“Haha, very funny,” Clara said dryly, believing Sunny had to be joking at her expense. She felt like he had barely ever seen Sunny behave seriously, and she doubted she would try to be decent enough to try to be serious even now when they actually had to talk at their fathers’ wedding, even though they both knew it wasn’t something they particularly enjoyed, “I’m a novelist, and I’ve been doing well, thank you,”

Then she said nothing again, and sipped on her champagne, looking out over the reception in general. They had some eyes on them, closer family who knew they didn’t get along too well probably. And also, the man Sunny had tried to wordlessly interact with. After a moment had passed she realised that she actually was supposed to hold a conversation with Sunny. Or well, it wasn’t so much that she had forgotten as she had tried to avoid a couple of seconds of communication with the bubbly woman, “My dad told me you were doing radio, that sounds fairly interesting. I have a friend who is a journalist actually, which I suppose is somewhat similar, though I don’t believe I’ve heard your show so I wouldn’t know,”
 
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