New Carthaginian Royal Wedding [RP-IC][See OP For More]

[The Jamesian Republic]

After the shocking news hit the First family, the President and the First Lady left to meet King Christophe and Queen Margaret. The president dressed in a tuxedo and the First Lady dressed in a Jackie Kennedy style gown made from a French Designer. The couple made it to the limousine and drove along the coastal highway. The sun setting over the Mediterranean Sea. A few minutes later the two arrived at the Castle. They walked up to the King and Queen bowed and shook hands. “It’s a pleasure to have you here”. The king said. “The pleasure is all ours.” The president and his wife walked into the grand palace.

[The Greater Gothic Empire]

Arriving in her private jet is the Duchess Theodora von Grapfelnecker. Ejecting herself from the cockpit, she opened her parachute and landed on the shore close to the castle while she left her jet on the sea. She is carrying her theorbo and several of her musical instruments, still wearing the same suit she wore on her last gathering and a pair of shades as she showed up to the people invited before the ceremony is about to begin.

"Ey b0ss," she introduces herself. "The name's Theodora. Theodora von Grapfelnecker. I heard them two lovebirds are getting hitched, a'ite?"

[Insaanistan]

Mustafa returns to the castle after a noticeable absence.

[Beryti]

Mustafa returns to the castle after a noticeable absence.

Grand Duke Faisal, clearly distracted by his surroundings, accidentally bumps into President Mustafa of Insaanistan. "Oh, sorry.", he hastily says.

[Insaanistan]

Mustafa returns to the castle after a noticeable absence.

Grand Duke Faisal, clearly distracted by his surroundings, accidentally bumps into President Mustafa of Insaanistan. "Oh, sorry.", he hastily says.

“Oh that’s quite alright.” Mustafa replies. Then he pauses, looking at Faisal. “Wait, you are Grand Duke Faisal of that city-state in ash-Sham (the Levant). As-salaamu Ālaykum wa rahmatallah!”

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

Wilhelm waited until Ross had left to shove the cup of what was almost certainly drug-laced alcohol into the hands of his nearest bodyguard. "Dispose of this, will you?" he commanded with a tilt of his chin.

Alastair reached for the punch wildly, his arms grabbing at the air as though he were pulling at a rope. Wilhelm got him to stop by giving him a gentle kick.

"Don' do that, Wil," Alastair moaned. "Tha's mean. Stop it."

Wilhelm ignored him.

"What I heard earlier...was that a gunshot?" he inquired. He addressed a bodyguard who was not busy dealing with a contaminated cup.

"Yes sir."

"Are we in any immediate danger?"

"Likely, sir."

"Was John Ross involved?"

"Yes sir."

"Ah. I see. Is there a single world leader here who is actually competent?"

"Uncertain, sir."

"I'm here...." Alastair reached for Wilhelm's ankle. Wilhelm easily sidestepped him and leaned forward so he could once again seize Alastair's collar.

"Al. Look at me. Alastair." Wilhelm attempted to haul Alastair to his feet. Unfortunately, he had no leverage, and Alastair's weight was not helping things, so he gestured to two guards to lift Alastair off the ground. They did as he ordered and held him up by the arms, their muscled limbs locked in place under his armpits. The third guard, meanwhile, alerted Alastair's bodyguards that the escape artist King had been found slurping a barrel of wine and was being dealt with promptly.

Marie was struggling to reach Queen Margaret, whose line was busy, and Wilhelm could sense she was growing increasingly frustrated. She was calling the poor woman over and over again instead of giving up and dialing Christophe's number. Wilhelm knew the King of New Carthagea was busy, and that matters of state were more urgent than an idiot foreign monarch getting into the alcohol, but this was his sister's wedding. He would not want it to be defined by Alastair's shenanigans.

"Al. Please. Look. I miss him dearly, alright? Not a day goes by that I do not think of him and wish he was still alive. But you cannot throw away everything thou hast striven for on alcohol. You cannot. That is no way to grieve. You need--to talk to us. Tell me, tell Marie, tell someone that thou'rt struggling. We will willingly help you." He paused so that Alastair could soak in what he was saying. He doubted Alastair even registered that he was upright. His brother was still blubbering, and his breathing was labored. Wilhelm swore he could hear him wheezing.

"It was a mistake to bring thee here. You are too focused on your drink to tolerate a single social function. 'Twould be better for all of us if you were receiving proper treatment instead of being lugged everywhere."

"Thou can' tell me what to do. I am King, and you are not."

"Knock it off." With as much force as he dared, Wilhelm slugged Alastair in the jaw. "Thy petty excuses are worthless in this situation. Must I slap some sense into you, thou blubbery failure of a human being?"

His outburst caused Marie to pause her calling attempt and shout, "Leave him alone, Wilhelm! Please! Can you not see that he is struggling?"

"How could you feel pity for him? He's a terrible husband and wretched King. I am done with him. Done."

"Wilhelm, stop--"

"Canst thou not see what a complete flop he is when you look into his eyes? Look at him, just see that he is weak and pathetic--"

Marie bulldozed into Wilhelm, cutting him off and shoving him into one of the guards handling Alastair. The guard grunted and released his hold on the King, who sagged to his knees and cradled his head in his hands.

"You are not any better than he, if thou desirest to punch a hole into him until he sobers up. Go take a walk and rid yourself of your anger, or so help me I will get rid of it for you." Slowly, Marie backed away from Wilhelm. She knelt in front of Alastair and brought him into her arms, leaving Wilhelm to stand frozen in bemused shock.

"Fine," he managed, stepping away from the wall. "I will go find Margaret myself, if that is what it takes. Perhaps she will respond to an in-person alert if thy calling does not work." He stalked away, beckoning his guards to follow him, and leaving Marie to cuddle a weeping Alastair on the stones.

[Beryti]

Grand Duke Faisal, clearly distracted by his surroundings, accidentally bumps into President Mustafa of Insaanistan. "Oh, sorry.", he hastily says.

“Oh that’s quite alright.” Mustafa replies. Then he pauses, looking at Faisal. “Wait, you are Grand Duke Faisal of that city-state in ash-Sham (the Levant). As-salaamu Ālaykum wa rahmatallah!”

"Yes, that is me. Wa'alaykumu salāmu warahmatu-llāhi wa-barakātuh.", Faisal replies. "And you must be President Mustafa of Insaanistan."

[Rost Dreadnorramus]

(A wedding during a nuclear appocolypse, how romantic)

[Insaanistan]

“Oh that’s quite alright.” Mustafa replies. Then he pauses, looking at Faisal. “Wait, you are Grand Duke Faisal of that city-state in ash-Sham (the Levant). As-salaamu Ālaykum wa rahmatallah!”

"Yes, that is me. Wa'alaykumu salāmu warahmatu-llāhi wa-barakātuh.", Faisal replies. "And you must be President Mustafa of Insaanistan."

Mustafa ibn Sina smiles. “Why, yes! Glad to see you, my brother. Although I must warn you not to drink the punch. I saw Ross over there and I don’t trust it.”

[Abbeyverne]

"Ok. What on earth is going on?" the King asked.

"Sir, it appears that a world leader has been shot, and the punch is laced."

"Wonderful. Whatever happened to weddings being peaceful affairs?"

"Sir, we should probably get out of here."

"No, not until we are really in danger. Let's go meet some people. And keep away from the punch."

"Yes, sir."

Now Kadrian spoke up, "I agree completely. It is a horrible shame that such events must spoil the pleasantries."

[Kiu Ghesik]

Wilhelm waited until Ross had left to shove the cup of what was almost certainly drug-laced alcohol into the hands of his nearest bodyguard. "Dispose of this, will you?" he commanded with a tilt of his chin.

Alastair reached for the punch wildly, his arms grabbing at the air as though he were pulling at a rope. Wilhelm got him to stop by giving him a gentle kick.

"Don' do that, Wil," Alastair moaned. "Tha's mean. Stop it."

Wilhelm ignored him.

"What I heard earlier...was that a gunshot?" he inquired. He addressed a bodyguard who was not busy dealing with a contaminated cup.

"Yes sir."

"Are we in any immediate danger?"

"Likely, sir."

"Was John Ross involved?"

"Yes sir."

"Ah. I see. Is there a single world leader here who is actually competent?"

"Uncertain, sir."

"I'm here...." Alastair reached for Wilhelm's ankle. Wilhelm easily sidestepped him and leaned forward so he could once again seize Alastair's collar.

"Al. Look at me. Alastair." Wilhelm attempted to haul Alastair to his feet. Unfortunately, he had no leverage, and Alastair's weight was not helping things, so he gestured to two guards to lift Alastair off the ground. They did as he ordered and held him up by the arms, their muscled limbs locked in place under his armpits. The third guard, meanwhile, alerted Alastair's bodyguards that the escape artist King had been found slurping a barrel of wine and was being dealt with promptly.

Marie was struggling to reach Queen Margaret, whose line was busy, and Wilhelm could sense she was growing increasingly frustrated. She was calling the poor woman over and over again instead of giving up and dialing Christophe's number. Wilhelm knew the King of New Carthagea was busy, and that matters of state were more urgent than an idiot foreign monarch getting into the alcohol, but this was his sister's wedding. He would not want it to be defined by Alastair's shenanigans.

"Al. Please. Look. I miss him dearly, alright? Not a day goes by that I do not think of him and wish he was still alive. But you cannot throw away everything thou hast striven for on alcohol. You cannot. That is no way to grieve. You need--to talk to us. Tell me, tell Marie, tell someone that thou'rt struggling. We will willingly help you." He paused so that Alastair could soak in what he was saying. He doubted Alastair even registered that he was upright. His brother was still blubbering, and his breathing was labored. Wilhelm swore he could hear him wheezing.

"It was a mistake to bring thee here. You are too focused on your drink to tolerate a single social function. 'Twould be better for all of us if you were receiving proper treatment instead of being lugged everywhere."

"Thou can' tell me what to do. I am King, and you are not."

"Knock it off." With as much force as he dared, Wilhelm slugged Alastair in the jaw. "Thy petty excuses are worthless in this situation. Must I slap some sense into you, thou blubbery failure of a human being?"

His outburst caused Marie to pause her calling attempt and shout, "Leave him alone, Wilhelm! Please! Can you not see that he is struggling?"

"How could you feel pity for him? He's a terrible husband and wretched King. I am done with him. Done."

"Wilhelm, stop--"

"Canst thou not see what a complete flop he is when you look into his eyes? Look at him, just see that he is weak and pathetic--"

Marie bulldozed into Wilhelm, cutting him off and shoving him into one of the guards handling Alastair. The guard grunted and released his hold on the King, who sagged to his knees and cradled his head in his hands.

"You are not any better than he, if thou desirest to punch a hole into him until he sobers up. Go take a walk and rid yourself of your anger, or so help me I will get rid of it for you." Slowly, Marie backed away from Wilhelm. She knelt in front of Alastair and brought him into her arms, leaving Wilhelm to stand frozen in bemused shock.

"Fine," he managed, stepping away from the wall. "I will go find Margaret myself, if that is what it takes. Perhaps she will respond to an in-person alert if thy calling does not work." He stalked away, beckoning his guards to follow him, and leaving Marie to cuddle a weeping Alastair on the stones.

Slowly, possibly stealthily, Ari crept through Costalblat's catacombs, the cold air washing over her and the stone cold under her feet as she searched for the cellar, where she knew she would find her friend. Hopefully he wasn't too deep into the bottle yet- that was a problem of his, in all honesty, that lack of moderation- and she'd be able to get a few good moments out of him. Hopefully. As it was, she might've delayed too much already. If he'd beaten her, he'd already be knee-deep in booze, and-

Wait. She heard something coming from further within the castle. Was that... yelling? Yes, yes it was, and that voice was almost certainly Alastair, or... whoever else was with him. There was a woman's voice, laden with sadness, and a man who sounded far more serious than Alastair ever did, yet just like him, both of them screaming at each other in pained bursts. His wife, maybe, and someone else. Ari began to feel a sense of unease- neither of them was Alastair himself. What if he was hurt? Or worse? What if Ross was there? There was no sense in being cautious now.

She broke into a sprint towards the sound, abandoning all pretense of discretion, unsure of her destination but sure of her intent. Closer, closer she got, until at last she found herself facing a thick stone wall. Behind it she could hear the two squabbling voices, now lower, as if they had come to some consensus, but still strained nonetheless. The man's voice was frustrated, with an air of finality to his speech. It certainly wasn't Alastair, though the speaker sounded like him nonetheless- a relation, perhaps? No matter. She would need to act quickly to ensure his safety. She reached for the knife hidden in the folds of her tunic and pulled it out, the bronze shining softly even in the dark. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the coming moments, then rushed forward.

It was unfortunate, then, that at that moment Wilhelm opened the door in the adjacent hall, stepped out, and turned just in time to see Ari spot him, scream, panic, attempt to stop herself, slip on a damp patch of stone, and fall to the ground at a high rate of speed, sliding to a stop just where his foot would have been had another moment been allowed to pass.

[Socialist Macronesia]

Wilhelm waited until Ross had left to shove the cup of what was almost certainly drug-laced alcohol into the hands of his nearest bodyguard. "Dispose of this, will you?" he commanded with a tilt of his chin.

Alastair reached for the punch wildly, his arms grabbing at the air as though he were pulling at a rope. Wilhelm got him to stop by giving him a gentle kick.

"Don' do that, Wil," Alastair moaned. "Tha's mean. Stop it."

Wilhelm ignored him.

"What I heard earlier...was that a gunshot?" he inquired. He addressed a bodyguard who was not busy dealing with a contaminated cup.

"Yes sir."

"Are we in any immediate danger?"

"Likely, sir."

"Was John Ross involved?"

"Yes sir."

"Ah. I see. Is there a single world leader here who is actually competent?"

"Uncertain, sir."

"I'm here...." Alastair reached for Wilhelm's ankle. Wilhelm easily sidestepped him and leaned forward so he could once again seize Alastair's collar.

"Al. Look at me. Alastair." Wilhelm attempted to haul Alastair to his feet. Unfortunately, he had no leverage, and Alastair's weight was not helping things, so he gestured to two guards to lift Alastair off the ground. They did as he ordered and held him up by the arms, their muscled limbs locked in place under his armpits. The third guard, meanwhile, alerted Alastair's bodyguards that the escape artist King had been found slurping a barrel of wine and was being dealt with promptly.

Marie was struggling to reach Queen Margaret, whose line was busy, and Wilhelm could sense she was growing increasingly frustrated. She was calling the poor woman over and over again instead of giving up and dialing Christophe's number. Wilhelm knew the King of New Carthagea was busy, and that matters of state were more urgent than an idiot foreign monarch getting into the alcohol, but this was his sister's wedding. He would not want it to be defined by Alastair's shenanigans.

"Al. Please. Look. I miss him dearly, alright? Not a day goes by that I do not think of him and wish he was still alive. But you cannot throw away everything thou hast striven for on alcohol. You cannot. That is no way to grieve. You need--to talk to us. Tell me, tell Marie, tell someone that thou'rt struggling. We will willingly help you." He paused so that Alastair could soak in what he was saying. He doubted Alastair even registered that he was upright. His brother was still blubbering, and his breathing was labored. Wilhelm swore he could hear him wheezing.

"It was a mistake to bring thee here. You are too focused on your drink to tolerate a single social function. 'Twould be better for all of us if you were receiving proper treatment instead of being lugged everywhere."

"Thou can' tell me what to do. I am King, and you are not."

"Knock it off." With as much force as he dared, Wilhelm slugged Alastair in the jaw. "Thy petty excuses are worthless in this situation. Must I slap some sense into you, thou blubbery failure of a human being?"

His outburst caused Marie to pause her calling attempt and shout, "Leave him alone, Wilhelm! Please! Can you not see that he is struggling?"

"How could you feel pity for him? He's a terrible husband and wretched King. I am done with him. Done."

"Wilhelm, stop--"

"Canst thou not see what a complete flop he is when you look into his eyes? Look at him, just see that he is weak and pathetic--"

Marie bulldozed into Wilhelm, cutting him off and shoving him into one of the guards handling Alastair. The guard grunted and released his hold on the King, who sagged to his knees and cradled his head in his hands.

"You are not any better than he, if thou desirest to punch a hole into him until he sobers up. Go take a walk and rid yourself of your anger, or so help me I will get rid of it for you." Slowly, Marie backed away from Wilhelm. She knelt in front of Alastair and brought him into her arms, leaving Wilhelm to stand frozen in bemused shock.

"Fine," he managed, stepping away from the wall. "I will go find Margaret myself, if that is what it takes. Perhaps she will respond to an in-person alert if thy calling does not work." He stalked away, beckoning his guards to follow him, and leaving Marie to cuddle a weeping Alastair on the stones.

Slowly, possibly stealthily, Ari crept through Costalblat's catacombs, the cold air washing over her and the stone cold under her feet as she searched for the cellar, where she knew she would find her friend. Hopefully he wasn't too deep into the bottle yet- that was a problem of his, in all honesty, that lack of moderation- and she'd be able to get a few good moments out of him. Hopefully. As it was, she might've delayed too much already. If he'd beaten her, he'd already be knee-deep in booze, and-

Wait. She heard something coming from further within the castle. Was that... yelling? Yes, yes it was, and that voice was almost certainly Alastair, or... whoever else was with him. There was a woman's voice, laden with sadness, and a man who sounded far more serious than Alastair ever did, yet just like him, both of them screaming at each other in pained bursts. His wife, maybe, and someone else. Ari began to feel a sense of unease- neither of them was Alastair himself. What if he was hurt? Or worse? What if Ross was there? There was no sense in being cautious now.

She broke into a sprint towards the sound, abandoning all pretense of discretion, unsure of her destination but sure of her intent. Closer, closer she got, until at last she found herself facing a thick stone wall. Behind it she could hear the two squabbling voices, now lower, as if they had come to some consensus, but still strained nonetheless. The man's voice was frustrated, with an air of finality to his speech. It certainly wasn't Alastair, though the speaker sounded like him nonetheless- a relation, perhaps? No matter. She would need to act quickly to ensure his safety. She reached for the knife hidden in the folds of her tunic and pulled it out, the bronze shining softly even in the dark. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the coming moments, then rushed forward.

It was unfortunate, then, that at that moment Wilhelm opened the door in the adjacent hall, stepped out, and turned just in time to see Ari spot him, scream, panic, attempt to stop herself, slip on a damp patch of stone, and fall to the ground at a high rate of speed, sliding to a stop just where his foot would have been had another moment been allowed to pass.

Ross walks into the room with Wilhelm.

"Hey, Ari. How's it going? Yeah, was it you or Alastair that was chugging the punch bowl earlier? Because if so, we need to get you to the hospital right now. Anyway, can you help us carry this guard out? We're just gonna toss him into the furnace Grosse Point Blank style, that sound good?"

[Greatdux]

Via space travel and hyperdrive, the President, Határ Katár, finally arrived at the marriage. Almost everyone was confused to where-ever was Páhani and that one Czech guy.

(OOC: I changed lore, it’s now some Szeklers, Chinese and Indonesians arguing about what is the majority, and they got this hellhole)

Határ quickly shouted "Qiæxû!", an Greatduxer word meaning "Howdy there!". He was used to Ross aggressively doing stuff and attacking NC, since the F7 war. He would get one of his 80 AK-47s and use them for self-defense. He was almost paranoid about existence of other leaders, like Ari, who owns sh*tloads of knifes and Ross, who basically led a nation which allows freedom but probably not.

Slowly, possibly stealthily, Ari crept through Costalblat's catacombs, the cold air washing over her and the stone cold under her feet as she searched for the cellar, where she knew she would find her friend. Hopefully he wasn't too deep into the bottle yet- that was a problem of his, in all honesty, that lack of moderation- and she'd be able to get a few good moments out of him. Hopefully. As it was, she might've delayed too much already. If he'd beaten her, he'd already be knee-deep in booze, and-

Wait. She heard something coming from further within the castle. Was that... yelling? Yes, yes it was, and that voice was almost certainly Alastair, or... whoever else was with him. There was a woman's voice, laden with sadness, and a man who sounded far more serious than Alastair ever did, yet just like him, both of them screaming at each other in pained bursts. His wife, maybe, and someone else. Ari began to feel a sense of unease- neither of them was Alastair himself. What if he was hurt? Or worse? What if Ross was there? There was no sense in being cautious now.

She broke into a sprint towards the sound, abandoning all pretense of discretion, unsure of her destination but sure of her intent. Closer, closer she got, until at last she found herself facing a thick stone wall. Behind it she could hear the two squabbling voices, now lower, as if they had come to some consensus, but still strained nonetheless. The man's voice was frustrated, with an air of finality to his speech. It certainly wasn't Alastair, though the speaker sounded like him nonetheless- a relation, perhaps? No matter. She would need to act quickly to ensure his safety. She reached for the knife hidden in the folds of her tunic and pulled it out, the bronze shining softly even in the dark. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the coming moments, then rushed forward.

It was unfortunate, then, that at that moment Wilhelm opened the door in the adjacent hall, stepped out, and turned just in time to see Ari spot him, scream, panic, attempt to stop herself, slip on a damp patch of stone, and fall to the ground at a high rate of speed, sliding to a stop just where his foot would have been had another moment been allowed to pass.

Ross walks into the room with Wilhelm.

"Hey, Ari. How's it going? Yeah, was it you or Alastair that was chugging the punch bowl earlier? Because if so, we need to get you to the hospital right now. Anyway, can you help us carry this guard out? We're just gonna toss him into the furnace Grosse Point Blank style, that sound good?"

"Ach, where is the bathroom?" said Határ Katár.
"I don’t frikkin’ know," said his advisor. "I’m not used to this universe."
"Oh goddammit, why!?" said HK.
"SHUT UP!" said his advisor.
Suddenly, both heard a sudden scream.
As his advisor sits on a random chair from somewhere, they found out that it was not Ari or Ross or anyone. Both heard a more serious scream and a female scream. As Ari broke into a sprint, they relaxed near a pile of 80 AK-47s.
Again, as Ross suddenly appeared, both relaxed. However, they could feel the stress of being in a other-worldly universe. Határ and his advisor ran into the room, and said the following:
"Hey, how’s it goin’? Do you understand what I’m speakin’, Ross?"

[Socialist Macronesia]

"Yes, I do. Anyway, this guard just had a seizure and died."

He plops a body onto the floor.

"Anyway, we're gonna throw him into the furnace before Christophe or his wife find out. Grab a leg."

[Greatdux]

"Yes, I do. Anyway, this guard just had a seizure and died."

He plops a body onto the floor.

"Anyway, we're gonna throw him into the furnace before Christophe or his wife find out. Grab a leg."

"Welp, oh frick. I don’t want to be in a controversy anymore. It has been 78 days since I was involved in a controversy. Do you want that again?"
said Határ Katár.
"Anyways, I have a question. Do you support my government or the Thälmannists?"

[Socialist Macronesia]

"Yes, I do. Anyway, this guard just had a seizure and died."

He plops a body onto the floor.

"Anyway, we're gonna throw him into the furnace before Christophe or his wife find out. Grab a leg."

"Welp, oh frick. I don’t want to be in a controversy anymore. It has been 78 days since I was involved in a controversy. Do you want that again?"
said Határ Katár.
"Anyways, I have a question. Do you support my government or the Thälmannists?"

"Depends on how much you're willing to pay."

He smiles.

[Greatdux]

"Welp, oh frick. I don’t want to be in a controversy anymore. It has been 78 days since I was involved in a controversy. Do you want that again?"
said Határ Katár.
"Anyways, I have a question. Do you support my government or the Thälmannists?"

"Depends on how much you're willing to pay."

He smiles.

"I’m willing to pay $89, or 78,00 gedles. Take it or leave it. If ye accept, intervene in the insurgency."

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

Wilhelm stared at Ari, who was at his feet, then at Ross. "Uh, he replied stiffly, "why ze hell would Alastair be chugging punch? We found him near--never mind. Not punch."

Awkwardly, he helped the girl with the knife to her feet (she was considerably lighter than Alastair) and--

"Is that a--Ross did you kill someone? My Gott, guards!" Wilhelm's guards drew their weapons and casually pointed them at Ross. Ross, of course, continued to have a conversation with yet another party as though the weapons weren't there.

Wilhelm sighed and rubbed his forehead, hard. Perhaps he had been slipped the punch at some point. "Ari...I think your name is Ari, if our research on the guests was accurate--is there any way I can help you?"

[Socialist Macronesia]

"No, he drank the punch. He uhhh... had kinda a seizure and died."

Ross may have had a little too much punch. And unfortunately he saw Ari.

"Damn girl, you thicker than a jar of peanut butter! CHUNKY peanut butter!"

Ross realizes what he just said.

"Okay, we all agree that nobody heard that, right?"

[Western Fardelshufflestein]

"No, he drank the punch. He uhhh... had kinda a seizure and died."

Ross may have had a little too much punch. And unfortunately he saw Ari.

"Damn girl, you thicker than a jar of peanut butter! CHUNKY peanut butter!"

Ross realizes what he just said.

"Okay, we all agree that nobody heard that, right?"

Wilhelm narrowed his eyes. "Ja, and whose fault would that be? Not even Alastair does things like that." 'Sblood, this man was worse than his slobbering brother.

"Damn girl, you thicker than a jar of peanut butter! CHUNKY peanut butter!"

Wilhelm felt Ari tense.

"Okay, we all agree that nobody heard that, right?" Ross hastily added.

"You're high, aren't you. Figures that no leader here has the guts to stay sober." Wilhelm shook his head. "You deserve to be in power less than my brother, Ross."

[Socialist Macronesia]

"No, he drank the punch. He uhhh... had kinda a seizure and died."

Ross may have had a little too much punch. And unfortunately he saw Ari.

"Damn girl, you thicker than a jar of peanut butter! CHUNKY peanut butter!"

Ross realizes what he just said.

"Okay, we all agree that nobody heard that, right?"

Wilhelm narrowed his eyes. "Ja, and whose fault would that be? Not even Alastair does things like that." 'Sblood, this man was worse than his slobbering brother.

"Damn girl, you thicker than a jar of peanut butter! CHUNKY peanut butter!"

Wilhelm felt Ari tense.

"Okay, we all agree that nobody heard that, right?" Ross hastily added.

"You're high, aren't you. Figures that no leader here has the guts to stay sober." Wilhelm shook his head. "You deserve to be in power less than my brother, Ross."

He smirks.

"Come and take it."

He moved into a fighting position.

[Insaanistan]

Mustafa exits the castle and returns with several African and Middle Eastern sweets. “Anyone want some? I’ve got puff-poff. I’ve got māmul. I’ve got Turkish delight. I’ve got baklava...”

[Socialist Macronesia]

Mustafa exits the castle and returns with several African and Middle Eastern sweets. “Anyone want some? I’ve got puff-poff. I’ve got māmul. I’ve got Turkish delight. I’ve got baklava...”

Ross, entirely forgetting about anything going on at the time, sprints over the Mustafa, snatches the baklava, and runs back.

"Now where were we? Oh yeah, fight me, Wilhelm."

[Eurasies]

OOC : I think this wedding lost its main purpose

[Insaanistan]

OOC : I think this wedding lost its main purpose

(I mean, it’s RP. The wedding is pretty much just the setting.)