The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[Araraukar]

but who can say no to something called a rocket pistol? It has rocket and pistol together in the name."

OOC: That's almost word-for-word a scene from my childhood...

[WA Kitty Kops]

You got it. But ehhhhh ooooooh oooooh she's bein' distracted by the obscene sounds of spewage, now's your chance, go sing!

"Thank you, Herrrrrby," the black cat purred softly, "but I'll just wait until she gets out of here. Is a long song."

Pink having once again fallen asleep, is awoken by the smell of cigarette smoke. Coughing, he looks upwards, and notices a sign he's never seen before. *I didn't know we had a dining room.* he thinks, as he follows the arrow, hoping to escape the slightly offending smoke. K-9 chooses this moment to realize there is a cat on Herby's roof. He growls at it, tail antenna dead still and stuck out straight.

The Chief Inshpekshuuner was amused. He knew that the weapon nukli- nulla- the non-weaponmakers would prevent him from getting actually hurt as long as he stayed within the Bar. He jumped down from atop of Herby and walked smugly towards the robotic dog. "I hearrrs youuuu, dog," he said softly, in a meow-y version of a human's sing-song voice. "I seeees-sshh youuu, dog. What's youuuu gonna doooo about mee-eow?" Part of him really wanted to see the dog being called away and being told he was a bad dog, even if he wasn't a real dog, and another part of him wanted to see the dog try and attack him and be turned into something like a balloon, like the rumbly-car had once been.

[Sierra Lyricalia]

"Dawww, lookit the little thing. She's even flipping you the bird!" Steph grins as she puffs some more. "If I have something delivered to your office, you can make it find its way there, yeh? Gotta make a good choice. Whaddaya think - Baby's First Ballistically Accurate Mobile? Or Sabo-Tabby the Agitprop Kitty?"

ARI: Ballistically Acc... I'd go with the latter.

Steph looks at Ari and chuckles, and takes a sip of bourbon. "You understand they use 'ballistic' rather than 'gravitational' as a marketing ploy, right? Just means little Billy can give a nudge and yon planet will change its course the same as if some godling from a cheesy twentieth century sci-fi act decided to step on some human ants. The bodies interact with each other at close range, see, like actual planets and asteroids would. But hey, I'm always happy to spread the good word. Not literally - the talking Sabo-Tabby gets a little annoying and it's creepy, really. Even the most long-winded old one-note socialist gets sick and tired of hearing a small cat voice meow out-" Steph gets out an annoying falsetto for the next bit "-'An injury to one is an injury to all' and all the other old saws. The old-fashioned stuffed-animal Wobblycat is a lovely, cuddly little thing, for all it's frozen in 'MUST KILL' posture. Scares the monsters and repo men away on dark stormy nights."

Steph coughs suddenly. "Uh, my little niece loves it, I mean." She looks around, scowling. "Yeah."

Bell just stares at Steph. "I don't know if this counts as treason, but can I defect to your country? Those children's toys sound way better than anything Fischer-Prince or Harsbro is making."

"Oh, that's easy. I want one of those rocket pistols like Steph has. I'm a fan of a good ol' fashioned .40 service sidearm, but who can say no to something called a rocket pistol? It has rocket and pistol together in the name."

She turns to Bell and slowly breaks into a full, beaming smile. "Benjamin! I never figured you for a fellow-traveler! We must discuss free versus capitalist markets some time - I'd love to hear your perspective on actually living in that environment. But I think what we'd both rather do is hit the firing range. I'll introduce you to the good ol' Sidearm, Vacuum-Optimized, Twelve-Millimeter Caliber, Model 2182 - and let you two get to know each other a little better."

The smile becomes a good-natured trash-talking half-sneering grin as Steph adds, "And I'll put up a mickey of the family label 20-year single malt against a mason jar o' that 'Gravediggers' that says I can put a tighter grouping on the target with your own sidearm than you can."

[WA Kitty Kops]

*snip*

"An injury to one is an injury to all," a voice meowed behind her, but when she turned to look, all she could see was a fairly small very fluffy cat padding past. It glanced briefly up at her and went "meow" before continuing on its way.

OOC: That's just like the 2nd time (though not 2nd post) I've even used Spy Mistress. She and Chief Inshpekshuuner are siblings from the same litter, like their RL counterparts. Different fathers obviously.

[Whovian Tardisia]

The Chief Inshpekshuuner was amused. He knew that the weapon nukli- nulla- the non-weaponmakers would prevent him from getting actually hurt as long as he stayed within the Bar. He jumped down from atop of Herby and walked smugly towards the robotic dog. "I hearrrs youuuu, dog," he said softly, in a meow-y version of a human's sing-song voice. "I seeees-sshh youuu, dog. What's youuuu gonna doooo about mee-eow?" Part of him really wanted to see the dog being called away and being told he was a bad dog, even if he wasn't a real dog, and another part of him wanted to see the dog try and attack him and be turned into something like a balloon, like the rumbly-car had once been.

K-9 ceased growling. His ears began to spin, and he continued staring at the curious cat. <You speak.> he said. <How peculiar. Yet you seem completely organic. A sapient.> His ears returned to their normal position, tail retracting. <My apologies. I was not aware of your intelligence. I am K-9. What name have you been assigned?>

[Sierra Lyricalia]

*snip*

"An injury to one is an injury to all," a voice meowed behind her, but when she turned to look, all she could see was a fairly small very fluffy cat padding past. It glanced briefly up at her and went "meow" before continuing on its way.

Steph looks at her whiskey glass from several different angles, an expression on her face suggesting something is puzzling the shit out of her. Eventually, she shrugs and drains it.

"It certainly is," she says to no one in particular. She looks over at the nearest bartender and says, "A glass of water, please."

[The Puddle Jumping Wads of Wrapper]

(Wad Ahume reenters the bar, his face pale, a dab of foamy goo on the corner of his mouth. He sits next to Janis.)

AHUME: Let me guess. That's never happened before, right?

"Oh, that's easy. I want one of those rocket pistols like Steph has. I'm a fan of a good ol' fashioned .40 service sidearm, but who can say no to something called a rocket pistol? It has rocket and pistol together in the name."

ARI: (shuddering, raising his hand) I can.

[Araraukar]

(Wad Ahume reenters the bar, his face pale, a dab of foamy goo on the corner of his mouth. He sits next to Janis.)

AHUME: Let me guess. That's never happened before, right?

"Not to me," Janis said cheerily, "but I didn't think it would happen to you either, because of the weapons nullifiers. I guess they didn't nullify the poisonous effect completely. Or else you got the energy soda to blame for that. In any case, poisoning you wasn't my intention, sorry."

[The Puddle Jumping Wads of Wrapper]

(Wad Ahume reenters the bar, his face pale, a dab of foamy goo on the corner of his mouth. He sits next to Janis.)

AHUME: Let me guess. That's never happened before, right?

"Not to me," Janis said cheerily, "but I didn't think it would happen to you either, because of the weapons nullifiers. I guess they didn't nullify the poisonous effect completely. Or else you got the energy soda to blame for that. In any case, poisoning you wasn't my intention, sorry."

AHUME: Mmm, more of an emetic effect than a poison perhaps. And I thought that tasted nasty going down.

[Araraukar]

AHUME: Mmm, more of an emetic effect than a poison perhaps. And I thought that tasted nasty going down.

"Well, most emetics are mild poisons, that's why the body reacts to them by wanting to get rid of them as soon as possible. But I think-" Janis's cellphone, which was on top of the binder on the bar counter, beeped at her, and when she saw who the message was from, she apologized and grabbed it to read the text message. Her expression was a bit puzzled when she looked at Ahume. "You live on a moon with no atmosphere, right? The hivemind wants to know if there are any windows to the outside, or if you live completely underground."

[Excidium Planetis]

OOC:
Liagolas ceased to exist. I hope they return someday, they were a good player.

[Wallenburg]

OOC: Agreed entirely. Meanwhile...

IC: Ogenbond enters the bar, pushing a large metal cart through the doors. "Good evening, ambassadors! Or morning, or afternoon. Whatever time it is in this damn place. The Wallenburgian office has conducted its first official raid. These here are standard rations from the Liagolesan offices. We have, umm..."

He stops the cart and pulls out several containers. "Well, I guess we have green mush and brown mush. Oh, some green bricks as well! I see that they took the advice to introduce solids into their workers' diets!"

He looks around at the other ambassadors, then back at the food. "Well, I suppose I'll be the first to dig into this...stuff. Gerald's busy finishing the raid on their office supplies, and my deputy is occupied with what amounts to their armory. I guess that means more for me!" Mikael feigns a smile as he lifts one of the solid rations out of the cart and up to his face.

He bites off a small portion and shudders as the nutrients hit his tongue.

[Excidium Planetis]

Schultz awakens from whatever half-drunken haze she was in, trying to forget that half her job has been taken from her and the other half is being watched closely, at the announcement from Ogenbond.

"Wha... What!? NO!" Schultz leaps up from her seat and quickly stumbles over to the cart, and then grabs a whole armful of rations from the Wallenburgians. "How could you!? CAN'T YOU RESPECT THEIR MEMORY!?"

The hysterical woman breaks into weeping.

[Wallenburg]

Schultz awakens from whatever half-drunken haze she was in, trying to forget that half her job has been taken from her and the other half is being watched closely, at the announcement from Ogenbond.

"Wha... What!? NO!" Schultz leaps up from her seat and quickly stumbles over to the cart, and then grabs a whole armful of rations from the Wallenburgians. "How could you!? CAN'T YOU RESPECT THEIR MEMORY!?"

The hysterical woman breaks into weeping.

Ogenbond shies away from Ambassador Schultz. "I--I'm sorry, Ambassador. I hadn't thought that you valued their food so much. I thought I was respecting them by..."

He stops as he realizes that his words aren't helping.

[Araraukar]

OOC: Liagolas ceased to exist. I hope they return someday, they were a good player.

OOC: Meh, I guess I'll put yet another RP on indeterminate hiatus.

[WA Kitty Kops]

K-9 ceased growling. His ears began to spin, and he continued staring at the curious cat. <You speak.> he said. <How peculiar. Yet you seem completely organic. A sapient.> His ears returned to their normal position, tail retracting. <My apologies. I was not aware of your intelligence. I am K-9. What name have you been assigned?>

"I is the Chief Inshpekshuuner of the World Assembly Kitty Kops," the black cat said proudly. The he glanced in the direction of the bar counter. "The human who thinks she owns me calls me "Ninja" because I is black and can get out of her locked office."

[Separatist Peoples]

She turns to Bell and slowly breaks into a full, beaming smile. "Benjamin! I never figured you for a fellow-traveler! We must discuss free versus capitalist markets some time - I'd love to hear your perspective on actually living in that environment. But I think what we'd both rather do is hit the firing range. I'll introduce you to the good ol' Sidearm, Vacuum-Optimized, Twelve-Millimeter Caliber, Model 2182 - and let you two get to know each other a little better."

The smile becomes a good-natured trash-talking half-sneering grin as Steph adds, "And I'll put up a mickey of the family label 20-year single malt against a mason jar o' that 'Gravediggers' that says I can put a tighter grouping on the target with your own sidearm than you can."

"Why, Steph, that sounds like a deliciously wonderful idea. I hear the office of Liagolas is empty for a while...and not only will I take that bet, I'll raise you by one of the C.D.S.P.'s M21 Kriss .40's into that pot, with a match barrel and whatever aftermarket doodads you want, against one of your rocket pistols. Not my M21, obviously. I am far too sentimentally attached to mine to risk it, but I will bet a brand shiny new one."

Bell coughs. "I don't suppose now is a good time to mention scoring High Expert in my last qualifier? 46/50, and I had the bloody flu that day."

Looking to soothe his parched throat after the good-natured boasting, Bell waves over for another beer.

[Taigawa]

K-9 ceased growling. His ears began to spin, and he continued staring at the curious cat. <You speak.> he said. <How peculiar. Yet you seem completely organic. A sapient.> His ears returned to their normal position, tail retracting. <My apologies. I was not aware of your intelligence. I am K-9. What name have you been assigned?>

"I is the Chief Inshpekshuuner of the World Assembly Kitty Kops," the black cat said proudly. The he glanced in the direction of the bar counter. "The human who thinks she owns me calls me "Ninja" because I is black and can get out of her locked office."

"I love how the human think they can own us and yet often they are taken for a ride when they realize a tiger can't be owned. Even a feline like you has already realized what they do not- One who does not wish to bee confined will find a way to escape. I solute your accomplishment there."

[WA Kitty Kops]

*snip*

OOC: I appreciate the effort, but the discussion is not loud enough to be heard by others, because the cat is being careful that Janis can't hear him. Even if your ambassador has some sort of super-hearing, she was busy talking with someone else (Herby?) last time I checked.

I know discussions can grind to a halt when people become busy in real life, and yes, it can be frustrating. If you don't want to edit your post, that's fine, but I'll be ignoring it as never happening. Sorry.

[Sierra Lyricalia]

She turns to Bell and slowly breaks into a full, beaming smile. "Benjamin! I never figured you for a fellow-traveler! We must discuss free versus capitalist markets some time - I'd love to hear your perspective on actually living in that environment. But I think what we'd both rather do is hit the firing range. I'll introduce you to the good ol' Sidearm, Vacuum-Optimized, Twelve-Millimeter Caliber, Model 2182 - and let you two get to know each other a little better."

The smile becomes a good-natured trash-talking half-sneering grin as Steph adds, "And I'll put up a mickey of the family label 20-year single malt against a mason jar o' that 'Gravediggers' that says I can put a tighter grouping on the target with your own sidearm than you can."

"Why, Steph, that sounds like a deliciously wonderful idea. I hear the office of Liagolas is empty for a while...and not only will I take that bet, I'll raise you by one of the C.D.S.P.'s M21 Kriss .40's into that pot, with a match barrel and whatever aftermarket doodads you want, against one of your rocket pistols. Not my M21, obviously. I am far too sentimentally attached to mine to risk it, but I will bet a brand shiny new one."

Bell coughs. "I don't suppose now is a good time to mention scoring High Expert in my last qualifier? 46/50, and I had the bloody flu that day."

Looking to soothe his parched throat after the good-natured boasting, Bell waves over for another beer.

Steph puts her hand up to signal one for herself too, and nods serenely. "This'll be interesting, then. 'Less my memory's failing, the last time I lost a marksmanship contest to a human was that sonofabitch on Astraea. Still not sure how that happened, but at least that jarhead bastard off the Raised Middle Finger did no better. Anyhow, I accept your terms."

Steph's grin twists back up. "Just think of it - now you really will be guilty of purveying weapons through WA Headquarters!"

[The Wary Walrus]

Walter slid through the door and came to a stop at his favorite stool. He jumped up onto it and happily began polishing his tusks as he looked around at the faces in the bar, some new and some old.

[Taigawa]

*snip*

OOC: I appreciate the effort, but the discussion is not loud enough to be heard by others, because the cat is being careful that Janis can't hear him. Even if your ambassador has some sort of super-hearing, she was busy talking with someone else (Herby?) last time I checked.

I know discussions can grind to a halt when people become busy in real life, and yes, it can be frustrating. If you don't want to edit your post, that's fine, but I'll be ignoring it as never happening. Sorry.

OOC: I have been a bit out of the loop lately so it is permissible.

[The Puddle Jumping Wads of Wrapper]

(After a restful two weeks away from the WA, Ahume and Ari enter the bar.)

ARI: ...and you know how unbearable she can be when she's in one of "those" moods. Anyway, we'll discuss it later. Neville! Two methanol cocktails, please.

Walter slid through the door and came to a stop at his favorite stool. He jumped up onto it and happily began polishing his tusks as he looked around at the faces in the bar, some new and some old.

ARI: (mouths the word "Walter" to Ahume, who nods) Walter! Long time no see. How's life aquatic? Neville, a clam juice straight up for the Walrussian ambassador, please.

(Ahume makes his way toward Miss Leveret.)

AHUME: (mumbles) Ummm. Hi. Sorry, I fell asleep on you. Hope I didn't drool on you too much.

[Araraukar]

(Ahume makes his way toward Miss Leveret.)

AHUME: (mumbles) Ummm. Hi. Sorry, I fell asleep on you. Hope I didn't drool on you too much.

"I think you were more unconscious than asleep when they carried you out of here," Janis said with a grin. "Probably a combination of too much work and accepting unknown, dangerous drinks from your fellow ambassadors," she added with laughter in her voice. "Anyway, I got a message from the hivemind, and it wants to know if the moon you live on lacks an atmosphere, and if there are any windows to the outside, or if you live completely underground."

[The Puddle Jumping Wads of Wrapper]

"I think you were more unconscious than asleep when they carried you out of here," Janis said with a grin. "Probably a combination of too much work and accepting unknown, dangerous drinks from your fellow ambassadors," she added with laughter in her voice. "Anyway, I got a message from the hivemind, and it wants to know if the moon you live on lacks an atmosphere, and if there are any windows to the outside, or if you live completely underground."

AHUME: Actually, I haven't lived on Luna II in almost twenty years. But, no atmosphere, no windows, and everyone lived underground, at least most of the time. You do see more artificial habitats on the surface nowadays, but they're small and inefficient. No, I've lived in the suburbs of Wormhole City for a few years now. Mycroft, a nice neighborhood, with many transplanted "loonies". Line marriages and breathable air, best of both worlds, right? (A server brings his drink; he takes a sip.) Why do they ask?