"It's a nice day for a white wedding"(IC)[Semi-open/signups]

[New Roma Republic]

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE POSTING:
This RP is a wedding between the Caesar of New Roma Republic with his fiancee, HOWEVER, there will be a terror attack on the Caesar, New Roman officials, and any IFC officials that attend. It will be perpetrated by the Peace Brigade, and anti-IFC terror group. Your officials will be at risk, but you can choose what happens to them. I ask that this OOC info not be reflected ICly (so don't bolster your security details, or have your officials where more body armor than normal). Thank you!

---

The day Romulus Giannetta and his fiancee, Aurelia Brunneis, had been waiting for has arrived, they are getting married. The security arrangements have been made so the Caesar and the guests would be safe. Everything had been set up and perfect, the cake had been baked and iced, and the reception set up.

Romulus was putting on his military dress armor when his groomsmen and best man came in. They also wore the military dress armor from the time they had served in the Italian Air Force. Most of them were still in the military. His best man helped to get Romulus's armor on. The dress armor is the Roman Legion armor from the old empire. Romulus was nervous, and his leg would not stop moving. He knew, however, that it would all be worth it. By day's end he would be happily married.

Signups: viewtopic.php?f=4&t=334700

[The Royally United Provinces]

Caroline smiled as she watched the beautiful archatecture go by. Arches, colums, rotundas, and anything you could imagine. Her one truck escorted by two motorcycles and another decoy truck pulled up to the curb of the venue. The door opened and out stepped Crown Princess. She fixed her long blonde hair and fixed her dress before starting inside. She looked around the building which looked void of other guests. She began to walk around before taking a seat to wait for other guests. To pass the time she gazed at the inside of the building. It was gorgeous. It took the soon-to-be Queens breath away. "How lovely" she said under her breath.

[Libraria and Ausitoria]

---

Article from the New Alexandrian Courante online version
Subsidiary of the ABC

---

‘Fallen Angel’ Count Raymond sets record with miraculous escape and forced free-fall after meteor strike at 72,800 meters

In a ‘miraculously unlikely’ event, “Viscount” Vickers, the Commander of the Space Forces, has reported the loss of SF-47, an Ausitorian Starfighter class aircraft engaged on mesospheric maneouvers piloted by Space Marshal Count Raymond.

After an explosion occurred in the port engine believed to have been caused by the ingestion of a meteor plume, the Count is understood to have ejected from the plane with only miliseconds to spare before the spacecraft entered a terminal spin. Alone and adrift in the upper atmosphere, the Count then spent half a minute maneuvering with his space chair for a course for New Roma, an allied nation; under the direction of Ausitorian space command. Simultaneously his flight launched three Ausitorian anti-ballistic missiles to detonate the remains of the Starfighter at an altitude of 52 km, to reduce the likelihood of parts surviving the descent to the ground.

Count Raymond subsequently entered free fall from the height of 54,300 meters to 14,300 meters, exceeding Mach 2 before gliding to land in a field near the capital, where, after a journey of 204 km in only six minutes, he was forced to spend a quarter of an hour on top of a haystack waiting for the Ambassador’s helicopter to arrive.

While most of the Starfighter burnt up in the atmosphere, the secondary black box, retarded by parachute, survived and is understood to have fallen into waters at a depth of 100 m, and will be retrieved later and donated to the New Roma Government. Some small particles of debris, exploded up into low earth orbit, are expected to remain in orbit until the end of the day.

The Count, who is understood to be no worse for wear, is expected to attend the Royal Wedding in New Roma later today, having been described as ‘A Fallen Angel’. He will then enjoy some time off at the pleasure of His Imperial Majesty’s Government before returning to duty next week.

A sign, sent from above: For lo, a meteorite shall send down an Angel to dwell among us.

***

"I've made it very clear that the press should not ask questions during the wedding," said the Ambassador to the Fallen Angel, "it would be quite unfair to the couple to have their wedding overtaken, even by a falling angel."

"Quite right too," said the Count, turning away from the car window with a wan smile on his face. He had already met with some in the Embassy's ante-chamber. It was still so bizarre to think that only a few hours ago he had been leading a squadron on practice maneuvers, preparing to return to HMS Valiant for a nice warm shower and teleconference with the Experimental Defence Committee... and now here he was, suddenly very much literally brought back to Earth, and now about to attend an imperial wedding: almost a whole world away, quite literally.

"It really is very good of you to invite me," he said, tiredly.

"Common courtesy. It is my duty to look after all Ausitorians, even when they have entered someone else's country illegally. It says on the Ausitorian Passport that 'This Passport entitles the owner to pass without let or hindrance, call upon the services and assistance of the Ausitorian government, and to enjoy all rights and privileges that the Ausitoria government thinks right and proper,' and that obviously includes eating wedding cake," he finished, with a portly smile. "Hope you're not feeling too space-lagged?"

"No, not at all, my shifts are all over the place anyway," the Count replied. "It must be nice feeling rooted to the Earth."

"It is, but it is always wonderful to fly," replied the Ambassador. "The further and more far flung the better."

"You diplomats aren't so different from us at all," the Count parried.

"Well, we all study Ensemble Analysis these days," smiled the Ambassador.

And it was true, thought the Count: the Imperial Commonwealth was converging rapidly in modus operandi: the march of the mathematician, the march of the manager, the march of the artist, the march of the scientist, the march of the philosopher. He had met people, mostly from the new states, who could not understand how they were getting left behind, but it was happening: 'ensemble' thinking, high strategy, balance; it was all in the air. He reflected that despite the conservatism and the swinging liberalism; all the radicalism of the seventies and eighties; perhaps this mode had never really fallen out of fashion in Ausitoria, and he too knew he had inherited that lofty professional ivory-tower detachment, that extraordinary dispossession and balance that was at once fragile and yet an integral part of their identity. Behind the mask of talk, behind the mask of emotions, behind the mask of cold hard logic; all Ausitorians of importance were converging rapidly, expected to think and function on so many levels. Here was he, a saxophonist by nature, a humble surveyor by training, expected to be an aerial renaissance specialist, then also expected to be an air captain, then also a member of the Aristocracy, then also a space marshal; and now, all of a sudden, expected to be a celebrity, and now to be a diplomat at a Wedding. And similarly for the Ambassador George, who Count Raymond surveyed as he looked out of the window: he needed to be equally prepared to think of anything: international economics, Ausitorian politics, the New Romans, pollution standards, or even a terrorist attack - the Count cast a glance at the bodyguard opposite: a competent hulk, although the Ambassador had assured him there would be a spy hidden in the congregation in case they needed further distraction.

The black diplomatic car swung round to their destination, and, adjusting the flowers on their suits, they exited with all the careless confidence that comes to any Ausitorian who has learnt the skill; and glided under those marvelous arches with all the comfortable disposition of a pair of at-home battle-cruisers, being intercepted by the Ausitorian press, questioned, queried, and soon shrugged off, while the Ambassador wheeled, nodded, waved, and saluted at local dignatories left right and centre like a pompous, unhurried, but eminently capable traffic warden, before finally making their way up towards their predestined seats in the international section.

"Your Royal Highness," he said to Princess Caroline, spotting another opportunity to make an impression, and continued as the pair bowed low, "George Juniper, Ausitorian Ambassador, at your service. May I present Count Raymond? He has just fallen through the Stratosphere," he added, deadpan, as though commenting on the weather, as the Count looked up at the Queen, with a smile tinkling in the corner of his mouth.

[The Royally United Provinces]

Caroline jumped and looked to the men. She stood to greet them, "Caroline Wessex, heir to my fathers throne." She bowed her bow and returned to the men, "It's a nice occasion to attend. My daddy wanted me to come out and meet other leaders seeing I'll be one too." She looked around the building, "I've never seen anything like it. Not at home or on any trips. It's fascinating. World culture and archatecture." She sat back down and invited the party to sit with her. Never had she been out to represent the nation. Only now did the King want her out after protecting her from the worlds dangers.

[New Roma Republic]

Dr. Charles "Chuck" Parker and Spatial Fleet Praetor Julio Salvador walked to the ceremony together. Dr. Parker is the Director of the New Roman Space Agency, and Salvador was the Chief of Staff of the military equivalent, Starfleet. Chuck wore a tuxedo for the wedding, but Salvador was wearing the dress uniform of Starfleet. Starfleet's dress is different than other the other Armed Forces. The current dress uniform looked like something out of Star Trek Insurrection.

As they walked, they were discussing what to do expand the Lunar Colony. "We should add a pool. Maybe 2. Every interesting place has a pool. Hell, even the hotel the Caesar rented for all the guests has no less than 3 pools, and 5 hot tubs." Salvador gave Chuck and inquisitive look.

"Did you really ask that? You have to know that that is impossible. The whole zero g's thing..."

"Right, I just... forgot." Salvador stared at him incredulously. They walked into the area that the ceremony was going to happen. Not many people were there, but there was a group talking near the center. "Julio, is that the guy that crashed in the Germania Province. From Libraria and Ausitoria."

Salvador glanced over to the group that was seated. "Maybe, I'm not sure. There is a definite resemblance." The door opened again, and Consul Agrippa Lucius, Consul Brianna Jones, Praetorian Consul Julius Iucundus, and Consul Mikail Drogov all walked in. They were the Caesar's closest friends in the Senate. "Chuck, let's go say high to them."

[New Roma Republic]

Basement of the Holiday Hotel
Walder stood in the shadows with the others. Walder was a Cohortion on the Praetorian Guard. Being a Cohortion on the Caesar's personal guard, he was privy to much top secret information. However, Walder had a secret. Well, 2. One was that he is a member of the Peace Brigade, a terrorist organization set on destroying the IFC. The other is his real name is not Walder. The men around him did not know his real name, in fact, they did not know any of their real names. All were also Peace Brigade members as well.

They had been meeting for many months now, planning the attack. Walder was the first to propose the attack. The others started calling him "Walder" after he proposed it, so he changed his code name to that. He looked around at all their faces. They were faces he knew well from their meetings. All would have access to the Ballroom that the reception would take place. Walder made sure that he and the man next to him, another Praetorian Guard, were on the detail that was inside the Ballroom with the Caesar. 2 other PGs would be there, but Walder would send them out looking for something right before the doors were locked. The other six were all apart of the staff. Two worked in the kitchens, and the last four were on the waiting staff.

"So, the day is come. Are you all ready?" asked Walder. His question was met by nods. "Good. Just one last tiny detail I want cleared up, waiters," he looked at each of the four of them in turn, "I need you guys to make the champagne and wine flow. The Caesar spared no expense, especially on his drinks. Very old vintages, supposedly very from very good years. We need them all at the least half drunk before we start it. Totally drunk would be better.

"Also, I have received the final seating plan. Agent 1 of the NRIA will be there. He will be the biggest known threat in the room. Kyle," he looked at a waiter, "he will be near you. Shoot him first. Then open up on the whole room. Any questions?" There was a short silence.

"Sir, um, just one last very tiny thing. You need to say something memorable to the Caesar right before you kill him" suggested a man on the kitchen staff. Walder smiled.

"Yes, I suppose so. I'll think of one. Now if that is all, let's go set up hell."

[Libraria and Ausitoria]

The Ausitorian delegation took their seats beside the Princess. "It is quite nice, isn't it?" said the Ambassador, looking up at the ceiling as though he hadn't noticed it. "By all means feel free to make an official visit to Ausitoria at some point. Our capital Alexandria has some of the most bizarre architectural distinctions around - there's a railway bridge over one of the airports, a palace with more than a thousand secret passageways, three identical steam-powered bascule bridges, and a particularly beautiful underground lake two miles long, surrounded by palaces. But tell me about your home?"

[The Royally United Provinces]

"What anyone could call basic. Cultured archatecture and art. My father focuses on beauty of the nation and her wealth. I'd still call it beautiful. Perfect sight to the eyes. I wouldn't trade her for the world. And someday I get to lead it. I can't even believe. I don't want it to come too fast or come too slow. I love my daddy but I want to be able to be a leader. I don't want to be like my Great Grand Father who was skipped in the family line." She looked over. "It's would be amazing to come and visit your nation. Good to get out and do things for the nation." She smiled. "What's it like to be an international diplomat?"

[Romae Aemilius]

At last, the ship had landed. Aemilius and his entourage finally stepped out of their ship. The Romans had much to do. It was a rare history in the period of Aemilius' Rome. He had come to another nation yes, but he had not come alone. Most people didn't even remember the last time he had spoken to other nations leaders, much less acknowledged their existence. The Praetorian Guard marched in step, lead by Sejanus they moved under the arches as if it were a military proceeding. Aemilius had chosen to wear light armour that day, sidearm to his right, gladius on the left as was the custom. His light brown hair and beard recently trimmed, the thin, pale soldier moved with discipline. His Loraliak wife had worn a simple dress in comparison, walking by his side with grace, her glowing purple eyes were no doubt likely to attract stares.

Their arrival was announced by Sejanus. "Hail the Imperator Aemilius Valerius Romanus!" Saluting his leader as he and his wife moved into the hall together, eager to study the new faces.

[New Roma Republic]

Julius turned around, surprised to hear a herald announce the arrival of a guest. The others in the group also turned around looking at the new arrivals. "I didn't know we had a herald! I want to be announced" joked Julius.

Chuck chuckled while lightly punching Julius on the shoulder. "I don't think that herald is from us. Looks as if we have more Romans here."

"Those eyes of the woman he is with...They are almost...unnatural" stammered Salvador. He seems to have gotten very nervous at the sight of her.

"What, is that an ex of yours?" quipped Julius. Salvador glared at him while the others laughed.

"No, it's just, never mind."

Consul Agrippa Lucius walked over to the new arrivals. He held out his hand and said "Hello! Welcome to New Roma Republic, I am Consul Agrippa Lucius, the Speaker of the Senate."

[Allancia]

The Allancian ambassador squinted at the sunlight. The train sped through the countryside, villages and forests speeding past. The Allancian government had been kind enough to supply a train directly from the Reichsbahn for his visit. In the car with him was his entourage. It seemed inappropriate to call it that, as it was too small to be a real entourage, and far too utilitarian. However, that was what the state called it, and he had to comply. The train suddenly entered a mountain, and a few minutes later, they emerged into the city. Massive buildings flew past, made of marble and concrete. Hermann was almost dead sure he was Battenburg when a glass dome came up and disappeared behind them. However, the whirlwind of fun was halted when the train suddenly decelerated. Within moments, he was being hustled out by his guards at the train station. A few minutes later, he stepped out from his transport truck. His eyes twitched involuntarily as he saw the mammoth palace. The building was so massive, it could easily stand an attack for days.
"These Romans have a good sense of utility." He mumbled.
He and his faux-entourage walked inside.

[Romae Aemilius]

"Well. you can no doubt tell what my name is. I am the Imperator of Rome. This is my wife Livia, Legatus Sejanus, chief of my army and the rest form my Praetorian Guard. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Aemilius promptly shook his hand. "First time I've been off-world in years."

[New Roma Republic]

Agrippa kept smiling, he was taken a bit aback by the bluntness of the Imperator. When he said 'you can no doubt tell me what my name is', he took it as a slight. Of course I know who you are. I looked over the guest list my self a few times. That doesn't mean you need to leave out courtesy. Instead, he kept smiling and said "It is a pleasure to have you here. Ma'am," he inclined his head toward Livia, "may I say you are one of the prettiest women I have ever seen, but don't let my wife hear me say that!" He turned back to Aemilius. "I hope you all have a wonderful time here. The Mediterranean is beautiful this time of year."

---

Chuck walked over to the group already sitting. The man that looks like the man dubbed the "Fallen Angel" was bothering him. I'm pretty sure it is him. I should just go over and ask. Well, maybe not, it may seem weird. Ok, I'm turning around...now. No, wait too late, I already half way there. i got to do this. They have probably noticed me by now. He put an awkward smile on his face, and said "Hi, I'm Dr. Charles Parker of the New Roman Space Agency, but you can call me Chuck. I was wondering, if you are the man known as the Fallen Angel."

[Romae Aemilius]

Livia chuckled at Agrippa's words. "I had no idea you had a thing for aliens. But thank you." Aemilius smiled. "I can't wait to see the natural beauty of the Mediterranean. I hope that this is the start a friendship between Romae Aemilius and the New Roma Republic. We haven't exactly been known for our...diplomatic proceedings or welcoming immigration processing. Most do it through service in the Auxiliaries. Perhaps I might be able to witness your military and arms? Always nice to compare."

[Argentarino]

King Cristiano X di Silvestri, King Consort Tommaso di Medicana, and Crown Prince Ercole di Silvestri entered the building, with King Cristiano wearing the dark blue military uniform, purple sash, and royal orders, while his husband and son wore tuxedos with the same purple sash draped around their torsos. It was the Royal Family's first international outing in years, and there was going to be more than a few exchanged words from the Argentarinoan delegation. "Now remember, Ercole, you can enjoy the festivities, but you also have a duty to the throne. Even now, the conservatives no doubt are trying to pick apart your claim to the throne. We need you to find a girl who you may betroth and eventually bring an Heir. I never meant to pressure you, my son, but this is crucial to our family - and our country's - survival," whispered Cristiano to Ercole, as they strolled in. "Yes, father, I will try to make you proud," the young teenager said with an exacerbated sigh. Cristiano smiled and playfully cuffed Ercole behind the head. "You'll have fun at the reception, I promise you," whispered Tommaso.

The royal trio and their seven guards made their way in and prepared to mingle with the crowd.

[Libraria and Ausitoria]

The Ambassador flicked his eyebrows at the Princess, his return smile still twinkling over his face, as he considered the question, for a second; another second; and then another full ten seconds that stretched infinitely into the future, as he tried to judge what sort of answer the Princess was looking for. How did one begin to describe the complexity of reports, statistical analysis; the constant wear and stress of constant toil, the interminable strain of knowing that you had to try to do your best, and always knowing you could have done better; always being judged and always having to judge? Certainly if he was to do it properly it would take at least five minutes. Beside him he heard Dr. Parker creep up and introduce himself to the Count, but he considered the question from another angle. Should he be honest with this inexperienced but presumably well-educated Princess? It did not seem that she was merely asking the question out of politeness, so should he advise and inspire her? Could he even find the words? How does one begin to describe grappling with infinity?

And, as he had been trained to do, he found the words to answer her question: perhaps a bit cumbersome, perhaps grandiloquent, perhaps pitched far beyond the level she had been expected and right over her head, for she was still little more than a child; but if it went over her head it did not matter, for neither did she, until she came to understand it one day.

"It is like being a God without half the power," he said, his eyes vacantly staring through her, as though to watch the stars turn. "It is an exercise in omnipresence, and that is because it is a position of terrifying responsibility. No doubt it is very much like the one you will inherit, and no doubt you too will have to be a diplomat: seeing everything, judging everybody, constantly being judged in return. It is usually a thankless task, but you can make an enormous difference on an almost infinite scale, and someone must try to do good."

And he returned to earth and smiled at her. "What do you think it is like to now be an international diplomat?"

---

While the ambassador beside him grappled with the young lady's questions as Count Raymond looked on, he had perceived the advance of Dr. Parker, who had approached, turned away, and then approached again, before finally popping the question. Count Raymond laughed good naturally and self-deprecatingly.

“That’s certainly what the newspapers are calling me,” he said. “Anyway, a great pleasure to meet you. Your nation must spend a most unusual amount of money on space for it to have such a notable space fleet…” he added – a point that had been a sore point of argument in Ausitorian domestic politics for months: how did such a small nation find the money to maintain an orbital dockyard?

[The Selkie]

To say, that Kendra Sciamhach of the Tribe of Waterford was a happy young woman, was grossly inappropriate.
She had an uncanny hate towards weddings and everything that went along with it, the Elders and Donny Críonna knew that, and still she was sent to represent the Free Lands at a wedding.
Her companion, Leonard Lách of the Tribe of Galway, was far more relaxed in that regard. He, a Horsearcher and sportsman, looked forward to the cheese they made around these parts, the people he would meet and the interesting talks he would have.
In that regard, he was a good Ambassador of the Selkie, especially with his lopsided grin, while she was an ideal politician right now, smiling, although she didn't really have anything to smile at.
Their hosts were nice, one shouldn't dare to say anything about that, so there was that little problem solved before it even arose, but the ceremony, which they would attend was something else entirely. She hated weddings, no matter the rite. She still had to represent her government, for she was the Ambassador of the Free Lands of Ambassador Group 2 of the Selkie.
As a Selkie, the two of them wore the traditional garnments of their people, the Geansai, an ensemble of fur and leather, which didn't hinder the abilities of the Selkie to move fast and with their unparalleled precision.
For men, that meant the original Geansai, what started out to give the name to the ensemble, a blue fur coat without arms, but held up by furry white shoulder pauldron and a strap around the upper chest. The folds, flap-like covers over the chest, were yellow and had a deep red lining. His back was covered by the strong back-part of the leather corset, worn in the softer version as a sort of midriff belt.
He was a strong young man, his body trained as a horsearcher, a traditional sportsman of the Selkie, his blue eyes glinting with a bit of amusement and his copper-red hair wrn in the usual, slightly wild, but ordered fashion, which she was used to. One could see his strength as the area between the pauldrons and the arm warmers around his wrists, trained and well defined arms, while his hands in red, fingerless gloves were strong as well, but more used to pull a bow's string then to anything else.
For women, the dark-haired, brown-eyed Sciamhach was a good example. Well equipped, as Selkie-women usually were, her Geansai showed much more skin. The near-black poloshirt like upper section covered her throat down to the 'argumentation amplifiers', which was near black as well, but unlike the upper section of fur with a red trim, where flesh would have to be seen and not connected to the other pieces of clothing. Her midriff was bare.
The skirt of the female Geansai was cut to knee length on the right side, while the left side was cut up towards hips and the belt, which held the skirt up. Like she was used to, Sciamhach wore a utility belt with two small pouches, one containing a few pencils and the likes, while the other held her cellphone and a small notebook. The black stockings on her legs finished this part.
Last thing of the female Geansai were the sleeves, covering the upper arms and connected by a short, cloak-like piece, which covered the shoulders as well as the straps holding together the holder. The collar was fur lined as well.
As she was of the tribe of Waterford, her skirt and sleeves were light green.
Both of their feet were clad in the Bróg, shoes of hard leather, held by straps.
Smiles, fake as well as lopsided, in place, the two of them arrived at the venue, where the wedding would take place - with these, the two of them entered and found their places a bit in the back, far away not draw unwanted attention, but close enough to see the ceremony - they weren't the first ones here, several people already sat and talked amongst each other, so it wasn't like they were fashionably late or far too early.
"And remember.", Sciamhach told her companion with a gaze of steel, "Don't flirt with the bride."
"Don't you worry." Lách grinned at her with this lopsided, slightly daring grin of his, which made other women in the Free Lands to be warm wax in his strong hands. Must resist..., the young woman in diplomatic function thought. "I will check the hands of every woman I introduce myself to for a ring, once I kiss their hands."
Sciamhach gave a silent, amused groan.

[New Roma Republic]

OOC: I hope none of you mind, but but I'm going to fast forward this to the wedding itself, and do the fast version of the wedding. I've been busy with life, so that is why I have been slacking. I ask that the next posts be the way to the reception. Thanks!

IC: Everyone was seated, and the isle was clear. Romulus (the Caesar) stood with his best man, both in the military dress uniform. Everything had gone quiet as the music began to play. Aurelia began to walk down the isle. Her dress was as white and pure as a maiden on a spring day. A veil covered her face. She got up to the alter, and turned to look at the Pope. The Caesar had convinced the Pope to do the vow for their wedding because Aurelia was Catholic. The Caesar worshiped the Old Gods of Rome, but he put aside his faith for the wedding.

The Pope began his sepal, saying the words that you hear at every wedding. After what seemed like forever to Romulus, the Pope turned to him and said "Romulus, do you Aurelia to be you lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish for as long as you two may live?"

"I do" he said confidently, slipping the ring onto her finger.

"And do you, Aurelia, take Romulus to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish for as long as you two may live?"

"I do." She put the ring on his finger.

"Then I pronounce you two Man and Wife. You may kiss the bride." They kissed, and the room began to clap.

[Aigeantir]

King Conall VII of Bel, his mother Anya Breckenridge, his aunt Cecilia Breckenridge, and his uncle Prince Roderick Breckenridge, had quietly slipped into the back to watch the final moments of the ceremony. They had had a long ride to get here, and with the past week of problems, security had been tight and slow. It wasn't a surprise that they were late, but they had hoped to make it sooner than the ceremony.

It was Anya who made a jab at her son for being partially responsible for the lateness. He brushed it off, knowing that his mother didn't want to blame his uncle for this social faux pas, since she still had some feelings for him. Aunt Cecila waited till Conall's mother was engrossed with the ceremony to whisper to Conall. "We all know it was Roderick's fault. If his polo match hadn't gone so late we'd be here in time. Thank you for allowing us the chance to come along. We need to get out and about."

Conall nodded, but really didn't give his aunt much of any reaction. He tended to be like that. Some might call him frigid, maybe even stuck up, but Conall saw it more as a conservation of words. Why would he speak if he didn't need to? Simple acknowledgement should be enough. This irritated a lot of people, and had already caused friction between him and some of the other monarchs, but it seemed that Aunt Cecilia was the only one who had any sympathies for him. It was getting hard enough to find allies these days, but his mother was far from understanding, thinking that he was just going through some issues that she thought could be sorted out with the right girl. Of course, none of the girls she encouraged him to meet ever turned out to be the right girl. This had only frustrated his mother, who had attempted to use his uncle as a surrogate father figure to figure Conall out. This too only caused more friction in his relationship with both his mother and uncle, but his aunt seemed to sense that Conall was just one of those people who preferred bot to speak much.

As they watched the ceremony, the security detailed checked in. Nothing to report.

[Romae Aemilius]

Aemilius, Sejanus and the Praetorian Guard drew out their gladius' in salute. Livia herself gave a simple, small, clap. Here was hoping no one thought they were about to charge...

[Allancia]

The Allancian ambassador, straightening his uniform, began violently clapping as his guard set his rifle down to clap with him. The ambassador felt a scratching in the back of his head, almost as if things were about to go wrong.

[New Roma Republic]

Reception Ballroom
Walder watched as the final preparations were bring made for the dinner. He had just gotten word that the wedding itself was over and that the group was coming up.

Walder was wearing a tuxedo, as were the other members of the Praetorian Guard that were on duty in the room. This made it easier for him to carry the 8 in knife in his pocket, though he had to cut the bottom of the pocket out to keep it concealed. What am I going to say to the Caesar? he wondered. It's got to be memorable. He walked over to the doors and looked out. Not much more time now...

---

The Caesar and Aurelia were laughing and smiling when they were talking with the guests. As they made their way up, they would talk with anyone who was around. The reception was being held on the second floor in the Hotel's expansive ballroom. The Caesar had rented the entire hotel for his wedding. They couldn't wait for the dinner, and then the dancing after. This was going to be a great night...

[The Selkie]

OOC: I hope none of you mind, but but I'm going to fast forward this to the wedding itself, and do the fast version of the wedding. I've been busy with life, so that is why I have been slacking. I ask that the next posts be the way to the reception. Thanks!

IC: Everyone was seated, and the isle was clear. Romulus (the Caesar) stood with his best man, both in the military dress uniform. Everything had gone quiet as the music began to play. Aurelia began to walk down the isle. Her dress was as white and pure as a maiden on a spring day. A veil covered her face. She got up to the alter, and turned to look at the Pope. The Caesar had convinced the Pope to do the vow for their wedding because Aurelia was Catholic. The Caesar worshiped the Old Gods of Rome, but he put aside his faith for the wedding.

The Pope began his sepal, saying the words that you hear at every wedding. After what seemed like forever to Romulus, the Pope turned to him and said "Romulus, do you Aurelia to be you lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish for as long as you two may live?"

"I do" he said confidently, slipping the ring onto her finger.

"And do you, Aurelia, take Romulus to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish for as long as you two may live?"

"I do." She put the ring on his finger.

"Then I pronounce you two Man and Wife. You may kiss the bride." They kissed, and the room began to clap.

Reception Ballroom
Walder watched as the final preparations were bring made for the dinner. He had just gotten word that the wedding itself was over and that the group was coming up.

Walder was wearing a tuxedo, as were the other members of the Praetorian Guard that were on duty in the room. This made it easier for him to carry the 8 in knife in his pocket, though he had to cut the bottom of the pocket out to keep it concealed. What am I going to say to the Caesar? he wondered. It's got to be memorable. He walked over to the doors and looked out. Not much more time now...

---

The Caesar and Aurelia were laughing and smiling when they were talking with the guests. As they made their way up, they would talk with anyone who was around. The reception was being held on the second floor in the Hotel's expansive ballroom. The Caesar had rented the entire hotel for his wedding. They couldn't wait for the dinner, and then the dancing after. This was going to be a great night...

The wedding ceremony itself was over, a short and kind of sweet thing, even Sciamhach had to admit that - Lách wiped away a tear. Didn't know you weep that easily..., she thought.
They both clapped, not as loud as others present, for clapping as a show of approval wasn't a gesture usually used by the Selkie, but they did and kept themselves in the background for now - with the wedding itself over, all of the guests and the newly-weds made their way upstairs, where the hotel and its staff had prepared dinner and a ballroom.
Sciamhach looked forward to it, for balls and the ensuing diplomatic talks were always interesting and fruitful. Lách on the other hand looked forward to dinner, he was hungry, after all.
It will be fun!, Sciamhach thought and sent a smile towards the other guests - Lách's lopsided grin wasn't going to be wiped away so easily anyway.

[Romae Aemilius]

Aemilius and Livia were the first to meet with the Caesar, the former extending his hand, the latter making a slight bow. "Congratulations." Aemilius spoke first. "We wish you many years of happiness and strong, healthy children. May you be luckier than Augustus and better than Trajan." Aemilius was uncomfortable with all the Kings and Queens who attended these ceremonies. Often they demanded too much, were arrogant and probably hadn't fought a day in their lives. Still, diplomacy was a dangerous game indeed.

[Argentarino]

The Argentarinoan royals made their way through the ballroom, with the occasional extension of King Cristiano's finger towards a young woman in an attempt to get his son to be somewhat interested in what was going on around them. The wedding was indeed a beautiful one, and Cristiano felt jealous that, unlike the Roman Caesar, he and Tommaso were unable to be wed within a Cathedral, let alone by a member of the Catholic clergy, let alone the Pope. Nonetheless, King Cristiano, King Consort Tommaso, and Prince Ercole made their way to the newly wed Roman couple.
"Your Imperial Majesties, congratulations on your wedding. May God bless your marriage with an eternity of joy and bounty," Cristiano X said with a bow, which his son and husband followed suit in.