Blackmore took his seat inside the chapel, ensuring he got a good seat close to the altar. Aeon sauntered down the row and sat beside him, and even Deathwatch took his seat - despite any physical legs to speak of.
"This should be most interesting," mused Blackmore, stroking his chin with a metallic claw. He gazed across the chapel at the other guests. "Though I do hope the groom shows up rather soon. I tend to grow a little...impatient."
Aeon was just leaning back in his seat, tossing a knife into the air and catching it to idly wear away the time. He found services like these to altogether quite dull, and he didn't even want to risk staring at Kallen's cleavage anymore. His mind instead drifted to thoughts of scantily-clad women, oceans of money and fantasies of world domination.
Deathwatch, however, had chosen to take this opportunity to let his mind and soul relax. Scythe lying across his lap and eyes seemingly shut, he allowed his weary self to drift into a trace-like state of meditation.
Nick, by this point, had grown tired of waiting.
"Okay, I guess asking nicely to leave isn't going to work, so..." He stepped back and whistled loudly. The back wall of the cell crumbled as his trusty E-Wing smashed through the outside of the DAW. "C'mon, Prince, we're blowing this taco stand!"