The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[South Kirkcaldy]

Monat took his arm. She made a mental note that these were world leaders, but drunk world leaders and that she should keep her wits about her. "No, I don't mind any of those, so long as you're being literal, that is."

[Intellect and the Arts]

Ambassador Lady Ilera, realizing a response from her new associate may not be immediately forthcoming, settled herself back into her chair and observed the strange interactions of her fellow representatives. After downing a few glasses of her brandy, she noticed something rather odd: her DataKeep was humming. Strange, she mused. There hasn't seemed to be anything particularly interesting going on in the main halls... It must be a power level warning. I must remember to get that replaced. It isn't very becoming of a state official to have one's power source cutting out at the pub. Mildly annoyed, she poured herself another round and set her DataKeep on the bar, electing to read its projected holo-display rather than actually hold the device so as to avoid spilling her fermented liquids. As she reviewed the messages rolling across her display, however, her demeanor quickly shifted to one of seething disgust.

"THIS is what passes for legislation these days? How in the world... What kind of Assembly have I joined? This would no better serve as a secondary education ethics referendum than an international mandate! Neville, sweet,... it is Neville, right? Put another round on my tab for any Ambassadors coming in to escape recent political developments. I have to go throw my intellectual weight around."

Lady Ilera gathered her belongings, swallowed a Sobriety Pill, straightened her fedora, and stormed out of the Bar in a light huff, pausing only to check her suit in a mirror on her way out the door.

Gorrammit... I found a bug in the formatting code. Apparently when you end a formatting text, it doesn't actually pay attention to what you're ending. It only ends the most recently given piece. Also, apologies for the short and half-done piece. My mind is a bit strained today.

[Unibot]

Eduard rolled into his seat, staring at Neville... Eduard continued staring...

"I want a mug of Yucca schidigera plant extract, seventy percent concentrate .. and I want it fermented ... with peppers, beat juice, more peppers and a splash of vodka, scotch, a slice of lemon and some garlic and tomatoes blended in it as well. You got that, Neville? We're going to call that .. err... the Stranger's Napkin, from now on. I need something to sober me up before I go out to lobby the Christians.. the last time I tried to, I was so drunk that I pissed in their Baptistery, and got myself to a nunnery .. where I was forcefully thrown out by the caretaker and a exorcist.. through a windowpane. Actually let's rename the drink and call it, the "Stranger's Windowpane"."

Eduard took a whiff of his concoction, noting that his first reaction was for his eye's to water, his nose to bleed and flare, his genitals to shrive and his skin to turn burgundy. While coughing, Eduard whispered, "On third first, let's rename it back to the Stranger's Napkin... that seems appropriate too."

[Unibot]

Eduard hit the floor in a sudden drop, moaning as the half finished mug of the Stranger's Napkin poured across his face, searing his skin as it smoked and sizzled. His eyeballs flared with blood and tears, his mouth couldn't open or close from the painful boils that lined the insides of his cheeks. He rolled across the floor, howling with pain, as the rest of his drink burnt a stain into his burgundy skin that was rapidly becoming darker like charcoal. A streak of fluid and puss jetted from his mouth full of boils as he continued screaming.

"I'm sober, I'm sober! Holy shit, I'm sober...please God.. make it stop... AHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Eduard howled as the smell of fermented plant and pepper residue burnt a hole in his nostrils and had set his tongue ablaze.

He had already taken his clothes on, having naturally assumed that they were on fire.

[Norstal]

Chairman Sloan walks into the bar. A newbie delegate of the WA, he expected men in suits surrounded by lawyers discussing about ways to better nations all over the world.

Sloan closes the door behind him. He watches Eduard with widened eyes and promptly screams, fleeing the scene as if he has been doused in petroleum.

[The Eternal Kawaii]

The old Kawaiian nekomusume tending the Shrine of the Manifestation looked at the smoking Eduard rolling about the floor, sighed, and reached for the fire extinguisher she kept handy for just such emergencies. Pretty soon the Unibotian ambassador was being doused with freezing CO₂ "snow" as she attempted to put out the flames.

[Murray the Evil Skull]

The old Kawaiian nekomusume tending the Shrine of the Manifestation looked at the smoking Eduard rolling about the floor, sighed, and reached for the fire extinguisher she kept handy for just such emergencies. Pretty soon the Unibotian ambassador was being doused with freezing CO₂ "snow" as she attempted to put out the flames.

Murray watched the incident from his perch near the Shrine of the Manifestation.
"You should have just let him alone, Grandmother. He's just having the DTs."
THe Evilest talking skull in NS mused for a minute.
"I could really go for a curry."
Murray turns his malevolent attention to an anonymous staffer trying to sneak past him, in order to go to the bathroom.
"You there!"
"Who me?"
"Yes you, fleshbag! fetch me a curry!"
"But I..."
"Hurry up mortal, or I'll put an EVIL curse on you!"
As the staffer fled to do the Skull's bidding, Murray yelled,
"And give the good Nekomusume a donation. Fire extingushers aren't cheap!"

[Cookesland]

"I'll get the first-aid kit in case the Unibotian ambassador is injured." said Richard getting up from his favorite barstool to fetch aforementioned kit.

[Bloodstone Kay]

"Surely rum would be the most important thing when facing soberiety?" said Kari, stepping over the prone ambassador. "Barkeep! a yard of grog for me. And a small glass of ice water for the ambassador on the floor"

[Unibot]

The old Kawaiian nekomusume tending the Shrine of the Manifestation looked at the smoking Eduard rolling about the floor, sighed, and reached for the fire extinguisher she kept handy for just such emergencies. Pretty soon the Unibotian ambassador was being doused with freezing CO₂ "snow" as she attempted to put out the flames.

A sober Eduard patted the Old Kawaiian, thanking him and drank his complimentary ice water with a smirk.

[Ardchoille]

<snip> ...Neville, sweet,... it is Neville, right? Put another round on my tab ...

The BarLord snarled and doubled the tab. The Ambassador's innocent comment had struck home. For it was Neville, outwardly; the fine eyes shadowed, the noble cheekbones gaunt, the gleaming hair dull, but all still visibly Neville.

Inwardly, though ... Neville had always had a rich spiritual life, and central to that was his Vow of Unchastity. Not a day had passed since the very hour of his BarLording in which he had not been unchaste in thought, word and deed.

Until that Secretariat party a year ago for the Flibbleites. He hadn't even been rostered on; but Violet Bracket had made after-work plans, and he'd offered to tend the private bar upstairs so she could get away in time. Things had gone wonderfully well. They'd blindfolded him so he couldn't see their Secret Induction Rites, but there wasn't a drink in the world that Neville couldn't manage with his eyes shut.

And afterwards -- he had to admit, he'd found her invitation flattering. They'd crept away from the party, laughing, hand in hand like two children. Well, strictly speaking, he'd been snuggled in the crook of her gigantic arm, but it had that sort of hand-in-hand feeling, y 'know? Deep in mutual mischief, they'd dodged the rest of the formal stuff and sneaked back to the ModCave. She'd set out smuggled dainties on a silver tray, they'd nibbled, chatted, laughed, played -- especially played -- and then, with a special smile, she'd moved teasingly away. Looking deeply into his eyes, she'd asked if he was truly ready for this. Oh, yes, he'd cried, yessss ...

And then she'd flamed him. A world-filling blast of dragon flame,

rainbowed round the edges but glowing golden at the centre, blossomed out towards him. Shrieking in shock and desperation, Neville had snatched up the tea-tray, shielding himself as best he could as he leapt for cover, screaming NOOOOOO! at the top of his voice.

She'd stopped immediately, of course. No (living) being could say that Mme Vermithrax Pejorative was ever anything less than a lady. But the names she'd called him! "Flamebaiter," she'd said. "Firetease," she'd said. He'd been around long enough, she insisted, he surely wasn't going to pretend he was some n00b who'd never heard about the Draconic Warning Procedure (ie, warn once, then proceed to devour). His actions were obviously deliberate, and if she ever saw so much as a fingernail of him again she'd make sure he was Deep-fried on Sight. He was no longer welcome there, she concluded, kicking him out with a final scorching sentence.

But the picture was ever on his mind, even today, a full year later.

And so was his appalling, sacrilegious, inescapable chastity.

---

OOC: 'S not godmoding, Hack okayed it. Honest.

[Krioval]

Henrik Søgård walked into the bar, satisfied at his government's efforts to add alphabetic diversity to the English letter-saturated Assembly. Still, he hesitated. Ambassador Volkov had warned him about this place. This place where just about anything could, and did, happen. Of course, the late Darvek Tyvok told Henrik to disregard all of that, though Darvek had also ranted about "those crazy people from the Arctic" for several minutes before Henrik politely pointed out that his mother was from Norway. That had been the second most embarrassing interaction that the current ambassador had with his senior counterpart.

He walked around the bar cautiously, almost bumping into the Kawaiian shrine at one point, before tripping over a very large metallic figure in a dark corner. "So that's where they left you!" Henrik exclaimed. "Gods, they didn't bother to install the upgrade?" He erased the inscription and wrote in flowing script. "That should do it," he said, heading toward Neville as the Kriovaller golem slowly began to awaken after years of immobility.

"You're Neville? I've heard a lot about you. What's good?"

[Murray the Evil Skull]

"You're Neville? I've heard a lot about you. What's good?"

Before Neville could reply, the Evilest Talking Skull in NS cast his malevolent eye upon the Kriovaller and said,
"Anything but the tea, mortal...unless you want to end up pregnant. Oh, the curry from the kitchen is pretty good today.

[Tzorsland]

A very youthful blonde in what looks like a slightly too short school uniform walks into the bar and pulls out a large electronic pad. Steping to a vacant stool she places the pad and sits down. Looking at Neville she says, "Chivas Legal ... I mean Regal ... old joke ... on the Rocks for me." After seeing an acknowledgement she turns to her pad, touching it in various places and making various motions with her finger upon it.

[The Eternal Kawaii]

The old Kawaiian nekomusume tending the Shrine of the Manifestation looked at the smoking Eduard rolling about the floor, sighed, and reached for the fire extinguisher she kept handy for just such emergencies. Pretty soon the Unibotian ambassador was being doused with freezing CO₂ "snow" as she attempted to put out the flames.

A sober Eduard patted the Old Kawaiian, thanking him and drank his complimentary ice water with a smirk.

The old nekomusume looked at Eduard oddly, and said, "Are you sure you're alright, son? None of that fire got into your eyes, did it?"

The very idea that someone would mistake a Kawaiian nun, even an elderly one, for a man was a bit alarming. Clearly poor Eduard must've been blinded by his ordeal.

[Krioval]

"Anything but the tea, mortal...unless you want to end up pregnant. Oh, the curry from the kitchen is pretty good today.

"Pregnant? How?" Talking skulls were one thing, to be compartmentalized and dealt with as it comes, but impregnating tea was another thing altogether, especially since Henrik was most certainly not properly equipped for a more mundane gestation. Still, his curiosity could not be denied. "Like with a human embryo?"

[Ardchoille]

"You're Neville? I've heard a lot about you. What's good?"

Neville knew, in a sort of distant, academic way, what the answer should be.

"I'm good!" he should be saying, with a boyish grin and a flutter of the criminally long eyelashes, even before he'd worked out the species, gender and alcoholic capacity of the customer.

But it was all too much bother. Grumpily, he splashed some vintage Ardchoillean whisky into a crystal glass for the newcomer, gaining some small satisfaction from remembering that at least this would annoy Dicey when she came in. (For some forgotten failing on their part, he'd begun serving the entire Ardchoillean delegation nothing but $3.95-a-bottle hooch. He took what pleasure he was capable of these days in watching their outrage when he gave their nation's finest tipple to unappreciative palates that didn't even have the sense to ask for the precious stuff.)

He considered enlightening the Kriovalian about the tea, but ... meh. Let Murray chase the butterfly of conversation through the green fields of good-fellowship. Neville had some heavy duty gloom to sink into.

[Krioval]

Henrik regarded the bartender as he slunk away. "Burned in love," he murmured, momentarily transported into his own past. "Nothing for that." He downed the whiskey in one gulp, and felt time slip away again. His face softened and his eyes glazed over as the reminiscence overtook him. Sometimes you need one to loosen up a bit, Henrik had been told, and as he had painstakingly ascended the summit of his majority only to gaze over the monotony of the plains of adulthood, that message had not gone unheeded. Not that the disillusionment had lasted, though Henrik's early relationships had hardly helped with that. Sighing contentedly, the Kriovaller looked around the room again, but when he returned to Neville, Henrik couldn't help but see the other man's expression for what it was: disillusionment without end in sight. "What to do when the fire goes out entirely?"

[Tzorsland]

Red Hot Blonde (Really why did his father give her "hot" as a middle name?) continued to scroll through her pad absent mindedly reading a few lines out loud.

"Tourist is one of the most popular forenames in Retired WerePenguins."
"school uniforms are compulsory."
"innocent defendants often plea guilty for fear of receiving a much harsher sentence before jury."
"the nation's massive battleships are often mistaken for islands."
"hundreds of thousands of convicts work as slaves in Retired WerePenguins's many privately-owned prisons."

Shen puts the pad away and gulps down the scotch. "I'm glad I don't live there anymore."

Looking around the bar she mutters to herself, "Is there anyone here who is happy?" After a brief pause she finished her rhetorical thought. "I thought not."

[Murray the Evil Skull]

"Anything but the tea, mortal...unless you want to end up pregnant. Oh, the curry from the kitchen is pretty good today.

"Pregnant? How?" Talking skulls were one thing, to be compartmentalized and dealt with as it comes, but impregnating tea was another thing altogether, especially since Henrik was most certainly not properly equipped for a more mundane gestation. Still, his curiosity could not be denied. "Like with a human embryo?"

"Well mortal, its a heartstopping tale of malice and EVIL, with some pain and misery thrown in. About a year or so ago some Mortal ordered some tea. THey got pregnant, however it gets better...nine moths later she went into labor here in the bar while an infestation of demons was taking place. It was gloriously fun. Sigh! Those were the days." ,
Then the Eviest Talking Skull in Nationstates turned his attention to a curry that a fetching Thessadorian Catgirl waitress brought out to him.

[The Ainocran Embassy]

An unusually sober Colonel Enta walks into the bar. Pausing to adjust his eye patch he proclaims. "Just when you thought it was safe." Casting a baleful look around the room before moving over to his accustomed spot he takes a seat.

"Gimme three roast beef sandwiches and some hot tea, and I somehow get pregnant we can call the record books."

Alcon winks at the evil skull in his shrine.

[The Wee Free Feegles]

A group of Feegles poped out of a mouse hole and made their way into the bar. They were singing lustily as they climbed up the side of the Bar Counter...well at least as lustily as 6 inch tall men can sound,

"As I was a goin' over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with captain Farrell and his money he was counting
I first produced my pistol and I then produced my rapier
Saying "Stand and deliver" for he were a bold deceiver

musha ring dumma do damma da
whack for the daddy 'ol
whack for the daddy 'ol
there's whiskey in the jar

I counted out his money and it made a pretty penny
I put it in me pocket and I took it home to Jenny
She sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me
But the devil take the women for they never can be easy..."

Once on the bar they walked down towards Murray, keeping an eye out for the Kawaiian Hag. feegles are a brave bunch, but a Hag giving the pursin' o the lips, the tampin' o the feets, and the foldin' o the arms will cause these brave souls to go into a panic. The feegle's Big Man, Robb, said to the great Bar Lord Neville,
"I'd like some ale for meself an tha lads if it could be pleasin' to your Bar-lordship."

[Embolalia]

An unusually sober Colonel Enta walks into the bar. Pausing to adjust his eye patch he proclaims. "Just when you thought it was safe." Casting a baleful look around the room before moving over to his accustomed spot he takes a seat.

"Gimme three roast beef sandwiches and some hot tea, and I somehow get pregnant we can call the record books."

Alcon winks at the evil skull in his shrine.

"Did someone say... pregnant?" Ambassador LLwyd saunters into the bar. "I can help with that." Colonel Enta shoots him an evil look from his uncovered eye. "Never mind." He wanders over to the bar.
"A Sodding Mary, please."
"Here." Neville the bartender shoves the drink in his face. "Enjoy," he sneers.
"Wonderful. Just what I wanted."
It's like a Bloody Mary, but ruder. Credit Stephen Fry on the joke...

[Linux and the X]

Ambassador Sheppard returns from the medical department, having suffered a small stroke due to dealing with some idiotic representatives of several other nations. "Nigel, gimme an absinthe. I bloody well need it."

[Omigodtheykilledkenny]

...and with a sudden jolt, the various Kennyites scattered throughout the bar switched back from autopilot (the mode on which they'd apparently been cruising for the past five months or so).

There was Riley, lazily seated at the bar, smoking a cigarette and sipping a pint of Arrogant Bastard, wondering whether it would be a crime to kill Eduard from the future, since technically he didn't exist yet.

And a few seats down, pretending not to know any of her embarrassing co-nationals, Cdr. Chiang, nursing her tumbler of Jameson (grateful she'd remembered to take her pill that morning before ordering anything too adventurous), and silently considering donning Homer's salamander suit, but only one time, to help satisfy Neville's odd new dragon-lust.

Meanwhile, over at the Kawaiian shrine, Ace and Rico's ever-present herbally induced giggling resumed, as the pair decorated the Cute One with an unsightly short-haired wig, sacrilegious Magic Marker graffiti suggesting a Hitler-esque mustache on his face, and of course, a small cardboard placard declaring, "I LOVE ROOSTER!!" (only it didn't say "rooster," but rather a common synonym for it, which was admittedly a little punchier).

And there at a bar table, Sammy, nervously poring over the pages of a recent tell-all bestseller, I Married a Dud (or at Least I Would Have, If the Bastard Ever Agreed on a Date!), with Jimmy seated beside him, repeatedly objecting that he wasn't a lawyer, and even if he was, there was no way of knowing if any of Avaya's libelous claims were even true.

I see a man at the back, as a matter of fact his eyes are as red as the sun
And a girl in the corner - let no one ignore her - 'cause she thinks she's the passionate one

Oh yeah it was like lightning, everybody was frightening
And the music was soothing, and they all started grooving

And the man at the back said "Everyone attack", and it turned into a barroom blitz
And the girl in the corner said, "Boy I wanna warn ya, it'll turn into a ballroom blitz"

Barroom blitz...Barroom blitz!

Violet turned toward the stage and gazed oddly at the musical act (apparently) for the evening, wondering, to no one in particular, "What is Cassandra from Wayne's World doing here?"



It wasn't actually Cassandra, but rather the attention-starved sister of a besieged Kennyite ex-ambassador, whom multiple allied nations seemed to think was a terrorist (the ambassador, not the sister). Desperately the newcomer leaned forward toward barhand Jimmy, hoping to score a little appreciation, or least an offering for her tip jar, marked "Susa's Legal Fund."

Rolling his eyes, Riley leaned toward Cdr. Chiang, observing with a hint of disgust, "Those Batko-Yovinos are willing to do anything now that they've been voted out of office."

"Uh-huh," Chiang assented, not actually paying attention to her former boss, but craving something a little different that evening, tossed her hotel room key at the stage.