The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[Tinfect]

"So, your response to harassment and boorish behavior is to tell the victim to retreat catatonically into its own mind and pretend bad things aren't happening outside?"
Steph shakes her head in disapproval.

"Er, Ambassador-"

"Or did you mean any given AI only controls any given bird on a temporary basis, the same as a human pilot flies a plane like it's an extension of herself, but the plane isn't actually her own body... and once the post-flight's over, the AI goes someplace else to hang out and get drunk running on misclocked chips and suboptimal-volt power supplies just like any other pilot? Cuz that sounds like a good way to do it."

"The latter, I assure you, the latter. Imperial AI are designed to be transferable, so as to ensure their survival in the event that their frame destroyed. Ensuring that they are able to make the distinction between themselves and their frame is quite important."

[WA Kitty Kops]

*snip*

"Alright, you go have fun with cold water," the Chief Inshpekshuuner said and hopped down. "Is not so much fun when you's got fur."

OOC:

"The latter, I assure you, the latter. Imperial AI are designed to be transferable, so as to ensure their survival in the event that their frame destroyed. Ensuring that they are able to make the distinction between themselves and their frame is quite important."

"Where's you put them when they's not in a frame?" the cat asked curiously. "Do they just float around like the feathers in the ventilation pipes?" He obviously thought of something and added quickly, "The feathers was already there when I went in there. They def'nitly wasn't stuck on something tasty that squeaks at all."

[States of Glory WA Office]

Este laughs at this and quickly kisses Bell's cheek.

Deeeeeewwwwww I think I'm gonna barf. Neville! Check please!

Neville: Yes?

Fairburn: (facepalms)

Neville: If I had a Crooka...

Fairburn: Anyway, now that I've responded with some disproportionate retribution of my own, who's next on the list?

Neville: Oh, would you look at that? We've reached the end! What a shame(!)

Fairburn: Nonsense! Next up, Ambassador Bell! I don't believe that I've made him hate my guts yet!

[Kilimantonian]

Fairburn: (facepalms)

Neville: If I had a Crooka...

Fairburn: Anyway, now that I've responded with some disproportionate retribution of my own, who's next on the list?

Neville: Oh, would you look at that? We've reached the end! What a shame(!)

Fairburn: Nonsense! Next up, Ambassador Bell! I don't believe that I've made him hate my guts yet!

"The end? The end of what, exactly? And I promise I don't know you well enough to hate any part of you anatomy... although that mouth can be quite annoying!"

[Umeria]

Lockwood enters and dashes to the table where Cubbins is sitting.

"George! You have to help me! I'm having an existential crisis!"

"Bloody hell, Lockwood, I thought you were over these! Okay, take a deep breath. It's going to be okay. Just breathe."

"Okay. I'm just glad I found you before- what does it really mean to be alive consciousness is just chemicals is free will just an illusion the universe is apathetic-"

He faints, Cubbins catching him just in time. Occasionally Lockwood spasms and mutters nihilist phrases in his coma, his face contorted in agony.

"He needs a philosopher!" Cubbins shouts desperately. "Is anyone here a philosopher?"

[Tinfect]

"Where's you put them when they's not in a frame?" the cat asked curiously. "Do they just float around like the feathers in the ventilation pipes?" He obviously thought of something and added quickly, "The feathers was already there when I went in there. They def'nitly wasn't stuck on something tasty that squeaks at all."

Markhov hesitates a moment, unsure of whether or not to question the safety of the Wrapperian Delegation's avian representative, before concluding that it wouldn't be much of a loss if it were to suffer an unfortunate accident, and responding, "The AIs are always in one frame or another, as they cannot exist outsife of one. Be that the lesser systems onboard a Locust unit, or the computer systems of a Triarius Battleship. Lacking any such independent frame, however, the Imperial Archive is capable of hosting as many AIs as necessary, though the complications of doing so would likely necessitate that they placed into an inactive state for the duration of their residence."

"He needs a philosopher!" Cubbins shouts desperately. "Is anyone here a philosopher?"

"I once observed a Philosophy course during a brief stay on Balder, I recommend reassuring him that Life has no inherent meaning, Consciousness is subjective, Freedom of Will is merely a facet of consciousness, and that the Universe is incapable of experiencing Apathy, as it is not a living organism."

[Umeria]

"I once observed a Philosophy course during a brief stay on Balder, I recommend reassuring him that Life has no inherent meaning, Consciousness is subjective, Freedom of Will is merely a facet of consciousness, and that the Universe is incapable of experiencing Apathy, as it is not a living organism."

Lockwood, upon hearing the wisdom, breathes a sigh of relief and visibly relaxes. He groggily pushes himself into a chair.

"That could ended badly," says Cubbins. "I can't thank you enough, ambassador..."

"Markhov" mumbles Lockwood.

"Markhov. Thank you. I'm George Cubbins, by the way. I don't believe we've met."

[Tinfect]

"That could ended badly," says Cubbins. "I can't thank you enough, ambassador..."
"Markhov" mumbles Lockwood.
"Markhov. Thank you. I'm George Cubbins, by the way. I don't believe we've met."

"I must admit, Ambassador, I did not anticipate my success. Nikal's realities are rarely responded well to by those against 'nihilistic' philosophies."

[Umeria]

"I must admit, Ambassador, I did not anticipate my success. Nikal's realities are rarely responded well to by those against 'nihilistic' philosophies."

"Erm, he's the Ambassador." says Cubbins, pointing at Lockwood. "My title is Accountant."

Lockwood appears refreshed. "All I needed was a better perspective. Right now, I need a good cup of hot chocolate." A few moments later, his needs have once again been fulfilled.

[WA Kitty Kops]

"The AIs are always in one frame or another, as they cannot exist outsife of one. Be that the lesser systems onboard a Locust unit, or the computer systems of a Triarius Battleship. Lacking any such independent frame, however, the Imperial Archive is capable of hosting as many AIs as necessary, though the complications of doing so would likely necessitate that they placed into an inactive state for the duration of their residence."

"Oh, so they sleeps when they's not working? That's good. Do you's know if they have dreams when they sleeps?"

[Tahkranul]

"I must admit, Ambassador, I did not anticipate my success. Nikal's realities are rarely responded well to by those against 'nihilistic' philosophies."

"Erm, he's the Ambassador." says Cubbins, pointing at Lockwood. "My title is Accountant."

Lockwood appears refreshed. "All I needed was a better perspective. Right now, I need a good cup of hot chocolate." A few moments later, his needs have once again been fulfilled.

Este chuckles sympathetically now that the Umerian ambassador's ordeal appears to be over.

"Darling, in my experience, everyone is a philosopher once they reach an appropriate level of drunkenness. It's a bar -- a sanctuary for leaving your cares at the door and allowing yourself respite. Shake off your burdens and enjoy yourself.

"Oh, and meaning is what you make of it. In the face of apathy, the best defense is to create something meaningful to yourself."

She winks at Cubbins and Lockwood with a reassuring smile.

[The Puddle Jumping Wads of Wrapper]

(Ari and Ahume enter the bar, looking worn out.)

ARI: Neville. Four cans of Red Taurus, thank you. Oh, that still goes on Ambassador Bell's tab, I believe he owes us another four or five weeks of drinks.

AHUME: Three.

ARI: Three? Hmph. He's gotten off easy the last few weeks.

AHUME: A deal's a deal.

ARI: Oh, indeed, I have no intention of taking advantage of our dear friend. (Ahume snorts.) What? Oh come on, it's a small token of appreciation for the small favor we did for him. Hmmm. I do hope he's stayed out of trouble while we've been gone.

AHUME: Yes, it would be a crying shame if we had to vouch for him again, wouldn't it?

[Tahkranul]

(Ari and Ahume enter the bar, looking worn out.)

ARI: Neville. Four cans of Red Taurus, thank you. Oh, that still goes on Ambassador Bell's tab, I believe he owes us another four or five weeks of drinks.

AHUME: Three.

ARI: Three? Hmph. He's gotten off easy the last few weeks.

AHUME: A deal's a deal.

ARI: Oh, indeed, I have no intention of taking advantage of our dear friend. (Ahume snorts.) What? Oh come on, it's a small token of appreciation for the small favor we did for him. Hmmm. I do hope he's stayed out of trouble while we've been gone.

AHUME: Yes, it would be a crying shame if we had to vouch for him again, wouldn't it?

Este raises her glass to them.
"Ari Alaz, darling! Back again already? Come rejoin us then, there might still be some drink left in that lovely bottle Bell was dear enough to share."

[States of Glory WA Office]

ARI: Neville. Four cans of Red Taurus, thank you.

Neville: ...

Fairburn: Did you finally realise that they're referring to the bartender?

Neville: They're referring to the bartender? I was just speechless at the fact that they expected me to give them four cans of energy drinks as if I were their slave.

Fairburn: You utter twit.

OOC: 374 posts, I see. It's official. Wrapper's post count isn't frozen. What do I owe Ara?

[Whovian Tardisia]

An all too familiar grinding and wheezing noise is heard throughout the bar as a TARDIS materializes once again in the corner under the TV. Ambassador Rupert Pink steps out, his entire suit clearly new-pressed. His shoes have been shined, and the buttons on his jacket glint off the bar's lighting. He pulls up a stool at the bar and sits. "A Scotch please, Neville, and could you go tell Dazza to whip up a kangaroo steak with some chips? I'm famished." he requests.

[Sierra Lyricalia]

(Ari and Ahume enter the bar, looking worn out.)

ARI: Neville. Four cans of Red Taurus, thank you. Oh, that still goes on Ambassador Bell's tab, I believe he owes us another four or five weeks of drinks...

Steph slouches down in her chair, trying to look invisible lest the Wads happen to recall that she, too, is on the hook for their bar tab. The mohawk does not help, of course. It bobs around conspicuously as she turns and mutters to Este, "Four??? What's he tryna do, give himself diabetes?"

She pauses for a few moments. Then takes her cigarette case out of her inside coat pocket, extracts one, and puts it between her lips. She holds the open case out to Este, offering a very mild spliff. "Want an herbal? Custom blend, keep your wits intact but still take the edge off. If you'd like."

Steph gets her own butt lit, drags, and slumps as some of the tension leaves her muscles.

"Hey," she says quietly. "Thanks for listenin' before."

[Tahkranul]

Steph slouches down in her chair, trying to look invisible lest the Wads happen to recall that she, too, is on the hook for their bar tab. The mohawk does not help, of course. It bobs around conspicuously as she turns and mutters to Este, "Four??? What's he tryna do, give himself diabetes?"

She pauses for a few moments. Then takes her cigarette case out of her inside coat pocket, extracts one, and puts it between her lips. She holds the open case out to Este, offering a very mild spliff. "Want an herbal? Custom blend, keep your wits intact but still take the edge off. If you'd like."

Steph gets her own butt lit, drags, and slumps as some of the tension leaves her muscles.

"Hey," she says quietly. "Thanks for listenin' before."

Este, having been maneuvering throughout to keep her cigarette and holder out of everybody's way, turns and brings it around so that it's finally in view for Steph.
"Thank you, dear, but I'm covered there at the moment. I'll keep you mind for later, perhaps? Or shall we trade a few spares and call it a cultural exchange? I don't know if you would call them 'herbal,' they aren't marijuana, just tobacco."
She deftly switches her drink to her cigarette hand, opens her clutch tucked under that arm, brings out her silver cigarette case, opens and extends it to Steph. There are currently seven cigarettes in a case designed for twelve.
"And think nothing of it, darling," she quietly adds. "We all need a friendly ear sometimes."

[The Puddle Jumping Wads of Wrapper]

Este raises her glass to them.
"Ari Alaz, darling! Back again already? Come rejoin us then, there might still be some drink left in that lovely bottle Bell was dear enough to share."

(Ari looks to Ahume and mouths, "Ezri?" Ahume shakes his head and mouths, "Este.")

ARI: Este. Why, thank you, but after late nights of high intensity karaoke practice, we are a bit worn out and in need of stimulants. (He lifts his can of Red Taurus.) Cheers.

"Want an herbal? Custom blend, keep your wits intact but still take the edge off. If you'd like."

ARI: (sniffs the air) Oh, not another one of those dreary herbal sticks. I swear, the last time you lit one of those, my clothes reeked of pachinko for days.

AHUME: Patchouli.

ARI: Whatever.

[States of Glory WA Office]

"A Scotch please, Neville, and could you go tell Dazza to whip up a kangaroo steak with some chips? I'm famished." he requests.

Neville: The Scottish police?! Where?!

Fairburn: He's asking the bartender for a Scotch, you imbecile.

Neville: I don't know why I even bother anymore.

[Whovian Tardisia]

Neville: The Scottish police?! Where?!

Hearing this, a sly grin forms on Ambassador Pink's face. He looks directly at not-the-barkeep Neville, bobs his head to the box marked "POLICE" in the corner, and makes a shushing gesture with his index finger, before receiving and calmly sipping his Scotch.

[The Puddle Jumping Wads of Wrapper]

"A Scotch please, Neville, and could you go tell Dazza to whip up a kangaroo steak with some chips? I'm famished." he requests.

Neville: The Scottish police?! Where?!

Fairburn: He's asking the bartender for a Scotch, you imbecile.

Neville: I don't know why I even bother anymore.

ARI: (chuckling) You know, Ambassador Neville--

AHUME: (mumbling nearly inaudibly) Not the ambassador.

ARI: --we really ought to find you a nickname. Did you have a nickname when you were younger? Or we could just refer to you as Neville Two, since you were here second. Or N-2 for short.

AHUME: (mumbling) Nitrogen.

ARI: What? Oh, right, N₂, that's a nitrogen molecule. Or Nitro for short, we could call you Nitro. It does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it, Ambassador Nitro?

AHUME: (mumbling) Still not the ambassador.

[States of Glory WA Office]

ARI: (chuckling) You know, Ambassador Neville--

Neville: ...

Fairburn: Psst, someone's speaking to you.

Neville: Oh, sorry, I thought that they were talking to the bartender.

Fairburn: Since when was the bartender an ambassador?

Neville: Since when was I an ambassador?

Fairburn: Eh, these are the Wads we're talking about. They're too busy hugging trees to pay attention to detail in international politics.

Neville: I thought you weren't allowed to insult other representatives.

Fairburn: I'm not insulting the representatives, I'm insulting all of the citizens. What I'm doing is a-OK. I'm staking my position on it.

ARI: --we really ought to find you a nickname. Did you have a nickname when you were younger? Or we could just refer to you as Neville Two, since you were here second. Or N-2 for short.

Fairburn: Or just call him an idiot. That's about as accurate as you can get.

Neville: (glares at Fairburn)

[Tahkranul]

Este can't help chuckling to herself a little.
"Poor Neville. He must be put upon if he thinks all orders everywhere are directed at him -- you'd think, after all, that he'd realize he was safe from drink orders from the crowd in a bar. Ah, well, I wonder which darling Neville would be open to a nickname, such as 'Nev?'"

[Whovian Tardisia]

Este can't help chuckling to herself a little.
"Poor Neville. He must be put upon if he thinks all orders everywhere are directed at him -- you'd think, after all, that he'd realize he was safe from drink orders from the crowd in a bar. Ah, well, I wonder which darling Neville would be open to a nickname, such as 'Nev?'"

"I'm sure the barman wouldn't appreciate it." Pink replies, spinning around in his tool to face the Tahkranulan ambassador. "Forgive me, but I don't believe we've met." He continues. "Ambassador Rupert Pink, Whovian Tardisia. It's a pleasure."

[Tahkranul]

"I'm sure the barman wouldn't appreciate it." Pink replies, spinning around in his tool to face the Tahkranulan ambassador. "Forgive me, but I don't believe we've met." He continues. "Ambassador Rupert Pink, Whovian Tardisia. It's a pleasure."

Este looks away from Steph for a moment to favor Pink with a warm grin and a wink.
"Rupert Pink, is it? Whovian Tardisia. Lovely to make your acquaintance. I'm Este, Este Vendecor, ambassador from Tahkranul. It's alright you won't have heard of us. We're new."