(no subject)
[Finding residents of HQ drunk or hungover isn't really a new sight to anyone. If anything, everyone's just waiting for their turn around the bender of alcohol-induced pain and suffering.
Today, it seems to be the Spanish Empire's turn.
He groans softly from his place on the floor of a low-lit room, his head pounding as he winces at the sour taste in his mouth, cursing alcohol and England and God all in rapid-fire, if a bit slurred Spanish. He has no idea how he got there, but there he is and he is not really in any condition to relocate himself.
Help him? Make fun of him? Get him out of the (your?) room? It's your choice]
Today, it seems to be the Spanish Empire's turn.
He groans softly from his place on the floor of a low-lit room, his head pounding as he winces at the sour taste in his mouth, cursing alcohol and England and God all in rapid-fire, if a bit slurred Spanish. He has no idea how he got there, but there he is and he is not really in any condition to relocate himself.
Help him? Make fun of him? Get him out of the (your?) room? It's your choice]