There was the usual anticipation that came with one of the very formal-looking invites to a very informal gathering; Oktoberfest. Ludwig and Gilbert were very meticulous, or at least Ludwig was, in making sure to extend invitations to all those who had either previously attended or had expressed interest in joining in their famous beer-related festivities. Of course, there were always those who just made their way over whenever, but this was one of the rare times when such a lack of discipline didn't actually seem to bother the blond German. Of course, this also meant that Gilbert was more rambunctious than usual without his younger brother feeling the need to try and curb his more extreme ideas, often leading to slightly fuzzy memories the next day along with interesting photos if Elizabeta or Kiku happened to attend that year.
The party was already in full swing, Ludwig relaxing in his home as he enjoyed the dances that were being performed, the albino Germanic brother attempting to drunkenly participate. He could see his friend Feliciano over with his brother, Lovino looking less than enthused as he'd obviously been dragged here by the eternally enthusiastic northern Italian. The fact that there was a Spaniard hanging on the back of his shoulders as he rambled on about something to do with the dances he'd seen performed, seemed to be the only thing keeping the southern Italian from just storming out and getting lost.
As for those who seemed to always be getting lost, Alfred seemed just as jovial as ever as he dragged Matthew and Arthur out to join Gilbert, the Canadian easily slipping back towards their table to avoid the embarrassing spectacle that was his brothers when both were intoxicated. Alfred seemed to be more sober than Arthur, the American more or less acting like puppeteer for the drunk British man while Arthur cursed the American's every action as he tried to follow Matthew back to their table. Eventually, Alfred gave up trying to get his older brother to stop cussing and just dance, releasing him to go spend time with Gilbert. This meant that as soon as Alfred let go, Arthur had landed on the ground with a dazed look on his face before slowly and laughably getting to his feet with only a few stumbles.
"Is fun time, da?" Ivan said beside him, startling Ludwig from watching the comical goings-on of his fellow personifications. The Russian had always been one of those who managed to just wander in whenever it suited his fancy rather than give any sort of commitment to attending.
"Hmm? Oh, ja. You having a good time too?" Ludwig said, looking briefly over to the Russian man before returning his attention on the food he'd been snacking on between pints. "I hope you have managed to not to do anything like last year. I mean no disrespect, but I would prefer you not try to wrestle with America again." Ludwig said, Ivan sighing as though recalling a memory of which he was particularly fond.
"Oh, but America looked even more ridiculous with sauerkraut hanging from his hair. And you were not using that barrel anyway." Ivan said with a smile as he seated himself next to Ludwig, the German man internally sighing at not escaping having to entertain this guest.
"Ja, but you covered Roderich with some of it too when you and Alfred started tossing whole barrels at one another. What were you two doing, exactly?" Ludwig said, crumpling up the napkin that had the leftover pretzel crumbs in it that he'd hastily finished.
"Amerika likes to play catch. Matvey has told me all about it. He seemed to want to play and I do enjoy playing too. I make more friends that way." Ivan said with a head tilt and small chuckle. "We should do something like that more often, da?" He said, blinking innocently at Ludwig.
"Perhaps not with several pounds worth of sauerkraut." Ludwig said with a small blush on his face as he recalled just how angry Roderich had been when he'd been part of the collateral damage caused by Alfred getting drunk enough to challenge Russia to arm wrestling, which turned into a full-body wrestling match and apparently ended with a game of 'dodge-the-barrel'.
"Da. Do you have any suggestions?" Ivan said merrily, looking over to where Alfred had lifted up Gilbert over his shoulder and was spinning around on the dance floor, the albino actually pleading to stop as his face began to take on actual color – green.
"Just enjoy the fest Ivan." Ludwig said, Ivan nodding and taking a drink of the beer he held and making a face at the taste in clear preference for a different sort of alcoholic beverage. Ludwig stood and tossed out his trash, heading over to where Matthew was sitting with Francis now that Arthur had apparently drunkenly wandered off on his own.
"Ah, Ludwig. The party is everything to be expected of you and Gilbert." Francis said with a smirk, the German man not sure if that was to be taken as a compliment or an insult. "The ladies are as…lovely as usual and everyone seems to be having a good time. Even Ivan." Francis continued, the pastry Matthew had obviously gotten for him sitting untouched beside an equally untouched beverage. He could hear the hesitance in the other's voice, recalling Feliciano's own uncertainty in how to regard the women of his lands. But Ludwig only rolled his eyes, an action not normally attributed to him unless it was the result of dealing with Feliciano, Gilbert or when he'd had something to drink.
"Danke Francis. You know, you don't have to come every year if you don't have a good time." Ludwig said, crossing his arms over his chest. He hadn't had enough to drink to let his anger go unchecked by him, but Francis usually made a point of pointing out the differences between his and Ludwig's sense of good food and drink.
"Non, I am enjoying myself. Just ask Mathieu." Francis said, quickly plastering on a smile in case Ludwig had reached the point of becoming an angry drunk again. The Frenchman had experienced that a few times and wasn't eager to repeat that, demonstrating his 'enjoyment' by biting into the pastry that had otherwise been deemed inedible. Ludwig arched a brow at that but said nothing, looking around for wherever it seemed Gilbert had disappeared. But before he could excuse himself, Alfred came over to his brother's table, slapping Ludwig on the back playfully and sounding nearly out of breath from all the dancing.
"Hey dude. Great fest this year. Could be bigger though." He said with a smile, shaking the German man playfully before heading back over to his twin. Ludwig didn't seem to mind, smirking when Alfred stumbled over Francis' foot and making the Frenchman wince before plopping down next to Matthew and tugging on his brother's sleeve to get him to dance with him.
"Alfred, where is Gilbert?" Ludwig asked as he scanned the crowd for the distinctive hair of his older brother. "Oh, and stay away from Ivan." He said with a pointed look, Alfred returning it with a confused look of his own. "No food fights this year. I had to listen to Roderich express his anger through Chopin for three days after last year."
Alfred made an 'oh' face as he finally caught up to what he was being scolded for this time. "Gotcha dude. That why he's sitting way over there this year? Man, why does he bother to show up if he's not gonna live a little? Ha ha…but Gilbert needed to use a bathroom or something." Alfred said with a shrug, Matthew wincing in understanding. "I thought he could hold his own better than that. You should'a seen somma the stuff he did when he was training me how to fight…." Alfred said with a far off look, Francis shaking his head as he too recalled Gilbert's even more rowdy self when he was given a chance to embrace the open spaces of Alfred's lands during the American's revolution.
"Oui. Gilbert's tolerance almost rivals Ivan's, but mon cher, not even he can hold it together when spun upside down as harshly as you were doing to him." Francis said with a scoff, Alfred looking a little sheepish at that.
"Oops. But hey, it can't be worse than Iggy. Where'd he go Matt?" Alfred said, returning his attention on getting his brother involved with him once more. "C'mon Mattie, you see it all dude…." He said, trailing off into drunken laughter as he leaned on the Canadian.
"He probably headed off into the castle." Matthew said, pushing his brother away and pointing over to where the nearby old castle stood. "I think it was one of Gilbert's homes when he was younger." He said, taking a swig of his own beer.
"Ja. Gilbert has several homes here and there. He wanted to invite you all to this specific Oktoberfest because it's always held on what used to be his 'grounds'." Ludwig said with a shrug as the other three took another look at the castle. "I guess he was feeling nostalgic, although knowing him, he'd call that sentiment feeling awesome." The German continued with a bit of a smirk on his face.
"Who's trying to be awesome? Because they cannot out-awesome me!" Gilbert shouted out as he rejoined the party, startling Alfred from where the albino man had suddenly materialized beside the American. "And you…", he said as he tried to glare at Alfred, "…no more playing 'spin-the-Gilbert'. I need to get more beer now." The older man said, walking off to go replace what he had apparently just lost
"Hey, wait a sec'. Where are the hamburgers dude?" Alfred called out to Gilbert, the albino turning and shooting Alfred an unamused look.
"There's probably a literal ton of food here and that's all you'll eat?" Gilbert asked, Alfred only blinking in confusion at anyone asking him such a question. Matthew just shook his head with a small smile on his face at his twin's predictable nature, the Prussian man motioning for the American to follow after him as he backtracked to head toward the castle. "Come with me. I'll see if I can dump you off on Arthur. He's had a little too much and is, ah…taking a break from the awesomeness that is one of my awesome fests." Gilbert said, Alfred perking up at the idea of finding both his favorite food and the chance to be entertained by a drunk Arthur. Alfred shot up out of his seat, once again knocking into Francis, oblivious to why the older man was so displeased as he eagerly followed after the older German brother.
"Oh! Tell Arthur that Peter's supposed to call Berwald soon." Matthew called over to his retreating twin, Alfred waving halfheartedly in a sign that he'd heard the need to remind the British man about his babysitting duties. The Swedish man had insisted that there be some times that Arthur looked after the micronation when he and Tino were otherwise occupied with their own business. Of course, neither of them would have thought that Arthur would attend Oktoberfest that year anyway, not factoring in the persistence of Alfred in getting him and the smaller boy over to Germany's lands before Arthur had even put up a decent argument.
"Got it!" Alfred called out, Matthew sighing as he seemed to be the default responsible one. He could see Peter off with a group of young boys that were doing activities that didn't actually involve beer, but the Canadian couldn't help but worry. He'd also enjoyed a few rounds and wasn't sure if he'd be the best person to be the responsible one, the others apparently forgetting his own fondness for the beverage.
"Francis…." Matthew said hesitatingly, but it seemed the Frenchman completely understood. With a sigh and one more quick glance over the pastry to see if it was possibly worth finishing before deciding otherwise, Francis stood up to go check on Peter. Matthew smiled in relief at the other's actions, watching as Peter predictably imitated Arthur however subconsciously in his response to Francis. He chuckled as Francis merely patted the boy's head before heading over to talk with the Austrian personification he was fond of listening to, leaving Matthew to wonder how much longer he would have to enjoy his drink in relative peace.