The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[The Eternal Kawaii]

The old Kawaiian nekomusume continued her smile, though if one looked carefully, one could see it shift from "the customer is always right" to "why me?" She didn't miss a beat, though, and said to Pamela, "I'm surprised you didn't buy the flame-thrower, dear, the kids love those."

Turning to Wilma, she smile somewhat more friendly now, and pointed to a set of large books at one side of the counter. "If you're interested in Kawaiian lore, perhaps you'd like a copy of The Book of the Cute One? It contains everything you need to know about our people and our way of life."

[Imperium Anglorum]

Overhearing the conversation, an overeager intern by the name of Elisa said, 'We'd love a copy as part of our cultural outreach and education programmes. Learning about other cultures is why I joined the foreign service in the first place. Although, I hope you won't mind if our librarians put it in the fiction section if it's a religious text'.

[Retired WerePenguins]

Turning to Wilma, she smile somewhat more friendly now, and pointed to a set of large books at one side of the counter. "If you're interested in Kawaiian lore, perhaps you'd like a copy of The Book of the Cute One? It contains everything you need to know about our people and our way of life."

Wilma smiled and picked up the book, "Unfortunately," she started to say, "neither one of us knows how to ... oh my ... apparently the universal translator also works with written words as well."

"Can I see it," Pamela Blonde asked.

Wilma smiled, "We'll take it my dear nekomusume. How much do we owe you?"

[The Eternal Kawaii]

Overhearing the conversation, an overeager intern by the name of Elisa said, 'We'd love a copy as part of our cultural outreach and education programmes. Learning about other cultures is why I joined the foreign service in the first place. Although, I hope you won't mind if our librarians put it in the fiction section if it's a religious text'.

The old nekomusume just smiled and handed over one of the large tomes to Elisa, saying, "Hardly fiction, my dear, this is Kawaiian history. Though I suppose some of the more miraculous events may seem hard to believe, but they've been witnessed even here in this place."

Turning to Wilma, she smile somewhat more friendly now, and pointed to a set of large books at one side of the counter. "If you're interested in Kawaiian lore, perhaps you'd like a copy of The Book of the Cute One? It contains everything you need to know about our people and our way of life."

Wilma smiled and picked up the book, "Unfortunately," she started to say, "neither one of us knows how to ... oh my ... apparently the universal translator also works with written words as well."

"Can I see it," Pamela Blonde asked.

Wilma smiled, "We'll take it my dear nekomusume. How much do we owe you?"

Glancing over at Wilma, she added, "Reference copies are free to foreign missions here, if you could sign for it on behalf of yours."

----------------------------

While the Kawaiian nun manning the Shrine of the Manifestation was busy spreading the word of the Cute One, her granddaughter, the Nuncia of the Diaspora Church of the Eternal Kawaii to the World Assembly walked into the bar, accompanied by one of her secretaries. The teenaged Nuncia was plainly annoyed at something, in fact her expression looked downright non-Kawaiian. As the two ladies passed through the doors, it was clear that the secretary was being the sounding board for the Nuncia's displeasure, repeatedly nodding her head as the Kawaiian ambassador went on,

"...nearly 3,000 votes cast for the awful thing, and do you know, not ONE of the supporting representatives volunteered for a session! Do you have ANY idea how many strings I had to pull with the Happiness Police to get a waterboarding detail sent up here? I mean, seriously, is there any honor left in this institution?"

Approaching the bar, the Nuncia put on her more ambassadorial "happy face", and waved Neville down, saying, "Two green teas, please."

[Havensky]

A tall lanky bespectacled man ventured into the old bar. He threw his suit jacket over his shoulder and casually strolled up to the bar and asked for a whiskey - neat.

Ever since being promoted to Acting Secretary of State for the Skybound Republic of Havensky, Lance Atticus had been somewhat busier and hadn't gotten around to voting in person in quite some time. However, this last resolution was just so plain awful that he had to come in person.

It had probably been a waste of time. There was no way THAT resolution was ever going to see the light of day.

He turned to look around the bar and noticed the waterboarding station set up.

Atticus, never one to be at a loss for words, merely shook his head and pulled out his tablet to read the latest headlines.

[Separatist Peoples]

"...nearly 3,000 votes cast for the awful thing, and do you know, not ONE of the supporting representatives volunteered for a session! Do you have ANY idea how many strings I had to pull with the Happiness Police to get a waterboarding detail sent up here? I mean, seriously, is there any honor left in this institution?"

Approaching the bar, the Nuncia put on her more ambassadorial "happy face", and waved Neville down, saying, "Two green teas, please."

"Replace the water with some decent ale and I bet you'll get some volunteers here in the bar!"

[Ainocra]

The Fleet Marshal walks into the mostly empty bar and looks around. "Looks like the cute one went all fatwa on someone again." Sighing he produces a zooban cigar from his inner pocket and saunters over to the bar. "Nev got a light? and something to eat I think."

[CreepyCut]

Without a moment's hesitation, CreepyCut suddenly headed towards the bar's entrance, and said to no one in particular; merely to those within hearing range:
"I shall return." And so he left, as he ran his left hand through his silvery chromed hair, grinning.

[The Nocter Empire]

The Emperor of Nocter knocked on the door of the World Assembly and said "hello ? can I join here ?"

[Abazhaka]

Ambassador Paul of Abazhaka peeks in, shakes his head and goes to the general assembly forum to garble some nonsense.

[Separatist Peoples]

The Emperor of Nocter knocked on the door of the World Assembly and said "hello ? can I join here ?"

An obviously intoxicated Ambassador Bell leans over in his barstool and calls out the window, "Of course not! You're English types! Now, go away, or I shall taunt you a second time!"

[Stormwind-City]

Ambassador Brightspark walks into the bar
"This place is still open? Good. I could use a drink after all the stuff that's been going on."

Her short stature requires her to jump/climb onto a stool at the bar, she holds up her hand
"I'll take your strongest stuff."

She eyes the drunken Ambassador curiously

[Ainocra]

The Marshal leans back against the bar and puffs contentedly on his cigar "Bell, have you been in here drinking since I left?"
Producing another cigar from his inner pocket he offers it to the diminutive Brightspark "Cigar Ambassador?"

[The Land of Beer]

Orders another round of double doubleshots of everything .... continues drinking and watching the show from corner attempting to figure new ways of padding the expense account to fill retirement fund before home region collapses .... and if possible to apply for permanent asylum here in the bar since it has everything need to live comfortably ..... *fires up cigar .... downs double shot of tequila ... * and to think they said Id never amount to anything ....

[East Klent]

Vice-Delegate Benjamin Mason was walking past the door when he noticed it was open, "Bloody Hell, is this place still open?"

He stepped in side, "My word, it is!" he was elated.

Mason trotted over to the bar and dusted off his usual stool, "Ger... Neville, it's absitively splendid to see you ol' chap."

He mulled over his drink order for a moment before deciding, "You know what, I thi I shall have something other than scotch, in fact I shall have something a heard of the other day, the Bloody Awful, I am told it has quite the intriguing flavor."

[Greater Louisistan]

Sitting at the bar, Ambassador Schneider suddenly awakens from his months-long alcohol-induced coma. He pulls out a smartphone and looks at the date.
"Oh crap... I've been out for some time, haven't I? Can anyone bring me up to speed on what's been going on?"

[Separatist Peoples]

The Marshal leans back against the bar and puffs contentedly on his cigar "Bell, have you been in here drinking since I left?"
Producing another cigar from his inner pocket he offers it to the diminutive Brightspark "Cigar Ambassador?"

"I may as well be. I can't go back to the Confederate Dominion, and I was conspicuously dropped off at the World Assembly without a passport. Had an armed guard, though. So that was something."

Bell slides back onto his own bar stool and, inspired by the Fleet Marshal's brilliance, retrieves one of his own Coldharbor Crown cigars, one of the finer blends of southern Tule tobacco, determinedly ignoring the strange looks he was getting from Ms. Brightspark.

[Ainocra]

The Marshal leans back against the bar and puffs contentedly on his cigar "Bell, have you been in here drinking since I left?"
Producing another cigar from his inner pocket he offers it to the diminutive Brightspark "Cigar Ambassador?"

"I may as well be. I can't go back to the Confederate Dominion, and I was conspicuously dropped off at the World Assembly without a passport. Had an armed guard, though. So that was something."

Bell slides back onto his own bar stool and, inspired by the Fleet Marshal's brilliance, retrieves one of his own Coldharbor Crown cigars, one of the finer blends of southern Tule tobacco, determinedly ignoring the strange looks he was getting from Ms. Brightspark.

"Well if need be I can give you a ride home, or for that matter we can go to the beach and see if the shrine has left us any rum."

Sitting at the bar, Ambassador Schneider suddenly awakens from his months-long alcohol-induced coma. He pulls out a smartphone and looks at the date.
"Oh crap... I've been out for some time, haven't I? Can anyone bring me up to speed on what's been going on?"

"Well it's been interesting, the secretariat is asking for suggestions, I've managed to get a law passed that turned out to be illegal, accidentally of course. All in all just another week at the office."

[Abazhaka]

ambassador Paul of Abazhaka, a tad bit ornery, sits down rants about how in his country clothing has been outlawed=president lost his mind, remembers he IS the president, walks out grumbling about the price of vodka and how hard it is to shop for a suit in Abazhaka these days.

[CreepyCut]

Creepycut returned to the bar after his brief departure, then asked out loud without a care in the world:
"Does anyone know where I can harvest some good organs, preferably if the donor is alive and willing to contribute?" He knew such a question would cause quite a stir amidst the delegates and ambassadors present in the bar, but nevertheless had to know for his own personal amusement, as well as bringing some closure to a regional affair of his.

[Sierra Lyricalia]

Steph enters the bar, well refreshed and chipper, just in time to catch the last snippet of general conversation.

"Does anyone know where I can harvest some good organs, preferably if the donor is alive and willing to contribute?"

"Personally? No, I couldn't say. I was at this one swanky joint once, though... you'da loved it. Don't ask me how I got there, I have no damn idea. It was right after I got here, on one of these ridiculous WA "multiverse fact finding missions" that they run for gullible newbie ambassadors, and it was this one sweet bar plus a whole lotta killing time waiting for transportation. But you stick around here long enough, you'll see all kinds... I'm sure eventually someone'll turn up who gets their rocks off at the whole "victim of the undead" thing you're rockin' there. Best o' luck! Now, me, I need a beer. Somethin' hoppy."

[Ainocra]

Creepycut returned to the bar after his brief departure, then asked out loud without a care in the world:
"Does anyone know where I can harvest some good organs, preferably if the donor is alive and willing to contribute?" He knew such a question would cause quite a stir amidst the delegates and ambassadors present in the bar, but nevertheless had to know for his own personal amusement, as well as bringing some closure to a regional affair of his.

The Marshal chortles "I don't think Bell needs his liver anymore, I'm sure he could be persuaded to part with it."

[Separatist Peoples]

Creepycut returned to the bar after his brief departure, then asked out loud without a care in the world:
"Does anyone know where I can harvest some good organs, preferably if the donor is alive and willing to contribute?" He knew such a question would cause quite a stir amidst the delegates and ambassadors present in the bar, but nevertheless had to know for his own personal amusement, as well as bringing some closure to a regional affair of his.

The Marshal chortles "I don't think Bell needs his liver anymore, I'm sure he could be persuaded to part with it."

"There's always Enta's good eye. Supply is low, so demand is looking good," Bell teases, undeservedly proud of his bad pun. Leaning over to Steph, he adds, "If I were you, I'd try a Dominionese craft beer. A Coldharbor Brewing Imperial Pale Ale would be my preference, followed closely by a Hopknife out of the Tule Beer and Liquor Company. Microbrewing and microdistilling is something of a passtime for my people."

[CreepyCut]

The Marshal chortles "I don't think Bell needs his liver anymore, I'm sure he could be persuaded to part with it."

"There's always Enta's good eye. Supply is low, so demand is looking good," Bell teases, undeservedly proud of his bad pun. Leaning over to Steph, he adds, "If I were you, I'd try a Dominionese craft beer. A Coldharbor Brewing Imperial Pale Ale would be my preference, followed closely by a Hopknife out of the Tule Beer and Liquor Company. Microbrewing and microdistilling is something of a passtime for my people."

Knowing that such a question wouldn't receive very serious or legitimate feedback, Creepycut grinned once more, this time out of amusement than out of evil. Clearly there was no point in sussing out any Black Market dealings around these halls. With a small hop and a gentle spin around the room, he slowly made his way towards the nearest bartender and calmly said:
"Orange juice. With ice. Lots of ice."

[Sierra Lyricalia]

... Leaning over to Steph, he adds, "If I were you, I'd try a Dominionese craft beer. A Coldharbor Brewing Imperial Pale Ale would be my preference, followed closely by a Hopknife out of the Tule Beer and Liquor Company. Microbrewing and microdistilling is something of a passtime for my people."

"Hmm, I was thinking about a good ol' Oceanspear Rye IPA, but why not try something new? Thanks for the recommendation!"

My limited Google-fu is turning up only one Hop Knife, from Troegs; on the assumption that's what you meant, great minds etc: I wound up with their Perpetual IPA. So good call.

Steph turns toward CreepyCut and grins broadly. "See, if you're looking for a business deal, you shoulda just said so. Here I am thinking you want some Anne Rice bullshit, when really you just want to hook your people up like anyone else! Now there's black market organs all over the World Assembly to be sure, but this is hardly the place to get them if your customers require that they be totally biological, "homegrown" if you will. There are so many polities in here so advanced they can do all kinds of messed up magic-lookin' shit with biotech. Most folks go for that kind of thing, since it's both way cheaper to acquire AND won't get your diplomatic immunity taken away for being into all kinds of despicable assholery."

"Now take the S.L. medical industry - we don't have that kind of pill-popping grow-a-spankin'-new-kidney-in-three-days-or-your-money-back shit. But for most organs there's a syndicate or two that can sell you a 3-D printed compatible organ, either custom-grown from a sample of the appropriate tissue with a week or so of notice, or most outfits keep O-negative originated stock ready to unfreeze, reoxygenate, and implant inside of 48 hours."

"Now for a very modest finder's fee, I'd be more than happy to put you in touch with someone. Just let me know what you're looking for, and in what sort of numbers. But if you really do need natural-grown stock, I don't know if for religious reasons or whatever, then I am sorry that I can't help you out. Maybe try one of the psychotic regimes down the hall?"