Corn arrived a bit early at the large, open parking lot. Maria was away for today, visiting some relatives and probably making promises that she and Corn would visit them after the marriage. He was dressed in more festive clothes: A nice dark pair of trousers and a dark purple shirt. The night was already hot so he sat in his car with the AC on to wait the others to arrive.
The rest was left in Crystal 's hands. The Mastigos had agreed to lend Corn his knowledge of bars and clubs and all the other night-life things Crystal lost himself to. Mysterium was all about knowledge and if there was one mage Corn trusted to know his way around bars, expensive or cheap, clean or dirty, casual or gaudy was Crystal. After consulting his fellow mystagogue, it was decided that for this special Bachelor party - the mage-side bachelor party - girls would be invited too.
Corn didn't want anything too seedy like the tv-bachelor parties in Vegas, full of alcohol induced craziness. But he wanted to celebrate his wedding and his new breakthrough in power and his higher initiation in the Order. Again, he would have to trust to Crystal to find the right balance for that.
"Let's show them what we have to celebrate for, aside of being united with the woman of my life" Corn said to himself. He picked out the big aluminum pen he bought for the store and as he was seated on the driver's seat, he held the pen in his hand below the wheel. Not that anyone would understand what was happening or that anyone was around anyway, but still, better safe than sorry. He touched the pen with his leaden medallion and concentrated for a few moments. Perhaps it was not the wisest thing to reach across the Abyss and risk Paradox backlash just to show off, but it wouldn't be the end of the world.
3 successes, no paradox
Yeap, the pen is now made of silver. Corn thought to himself as he inspected his handiwork. Subtle enough to pass for a usual expensive pen. All that remained now was to wait to see who would show up from those invited.
Crystal Kaze Guru Aurora Phoenyx Eulogy