Interdimensional Independent Coffee Coöp

[Middle Barael]

Welcome, traveler, to the Interdimensional Independent Coffee Coöp
Where you can get a nice Cup of Joe as nukes destroy your home

Come here to enjoy a nice MAD Mocha, a Lifeless Latte, Atomic Americano, or a Fallout Frappuccino!
We also serve snacks, such as our famous Biohazard Brownies and our Radioactive Rainbow Bagels.

In true independent coffeeshop fashion, we are #Pacifist, #NukeFree, #Environmentalist, #Anarchist, and #Socialist but all are welcome!

So why don’t you just pull up a seat and patiently wait for one of our dedicated worker-owners to help you?



Note: This is an in-character thread, though none of the events happening here will be considered canon in my universe. Also, while IRL I am a pacifist, anti-WMD, and an environmental activist, I am not Anarchist or socialist generally speaking

[Kors]

Yay! Pacifist fellow!

[Middle Barael]

Yay! Pacifist fellow!

A burly, bearded, tattooed man walks over. Other café patrons seem on edge, even scared by him, as the floorboards creek under him. In a deep voice he says, “Yes, I too find the concept of mutual annihilation by means of fission-based nuclear explosions to be deeply unsettling. I surmise that a majority of people in the nation whence I hail, Middle Barael, agree, though not many of them are as radical as I when it comes to my activism. Also, did you want a drink?”

[Slaver Pirates of Vaas]

A group of 6 men walk through the door of the cafe. They're each dressed in casual attire, sporting somewhat tattered clothing. They all wore red tank tops or short-sleeve shirts with cargo jeans. Some shirts and jeans were sweaty, dirty, or both and some had tears or holes on them. 4 of the men had AK-47s holstered on their backs, while the two in front of them had pistols fastened in side holsters.

"Hard liquor, please. Whiskey for one of the mates behind me." said one of the men, strolling up to the counter. A shark tooth necklace dangled from his neck.

[Middle Barael]

A group of 6 men walk through the door of the cafe. They're each dressed in casual attire, sporting somewhat tattered clothing. They all wore red tank tops or short-sleeve shirts with cargo jeans. Some shirts and jeans were sweaty, dirty, or both and some had tears or holes on them. 4 of the men had AK-47s holstered on their backs, while the two in front of them had pistols fastened in side holsters.

"Hard liquor, please. Whiskey for one of the mates behind me." said one of the men, strolling up to the counter. A shark tooth necklace dangled from his neck.

The burly barista lurches over. "Nice necklace, mate. But I am sorry, this is a pacifist zone, so we don't allow weapons of any kind. Also, guns, seriously? Like, ew. So just please remove them and drop them in our safety bin here." He gestures to a bright red box with 16 different locks and 3 police sirens/lights on it. Anyways we don't really serve hard liquor here, seeing in that this is a cafe and not a bar, but we do have some Irish coffee and a mean Kahlua affogato if you're interested. I'm real sorry, mates."

[Al-Harreh Danistarab]

A group of 6 men walk through the door of the cafe. They're each dressed in casual attire, sporting somewhat tattered clothing. They all wore red tank tops or short-sleeve shirts with cargo jeans. Some shirts and jeans were sweaty, dirty, or both and some had tears or holes on them. 4 of the men had AK-47s holstered on their backs, while the two in front of them had pistols fastened in side holsters.

"Hard liquor, please. Whiskey for one of the mates behind me." said one of the men, strolling up to the counter. A shark tooth necklace dangled from his neck.

The burly barista lurches over. "Nice necklace, mate. But I am sorry, this is a pacifist zone, so we don't allow weapons of any kind. Also, guns, seriously? Like, ew. So just please remove them and drop them in our safety bin here." He gestures to a bright red box with 16 different locks and 3 police sirens/lights on it. Anyways we don't really serve hard liquor here, seeing in that this is a cafe and not a bar, but we do have some Irish coffee and a mean Kahlua affogato if you're interested. I'm real sorry, mates."

“I’d like an Arabic coffee, please” says the Emir of Al-Harreh Danistarab. He is a tall man,
half-black and half-Arab, wearing the traditional clothing of a marabout.

[European Federation Reunified]

President Nathalie Pérreau A woman in her 50s enters the bar, accompanied by a couple of men in black jackets and dark glasses who open the door for her. The woman sits in a composed manner on one of the tables while the two men remain at a certain distance, looking around cautiously. The President of the European Federation takes the menu and looks for something that reminds her of her beloved France: "I hope the coffee here is great, I will definitely need it for the days to come." Addressing the two bodyguards he asked: "Do you want something? J'offre..." To the negative response of the two, the president tries to attract the waiter's attention. "Garçon! A rallongé accompanied by a simple Croissant, please.

[Middle Barael]

“I’d like an Arabic coffee, please” says the Emir of Al-Harreh Danistarab. He is a tall man,
half-black and half-Arab, wearing the traditional clothing of a marabout.

"Sorry about the wait, had to deal with these gunslinging guys. Ah, I see you're getting some Old School coffee. The 'OG', as they say. Here it is, sir. As-salaam alaykum!"

(Image) President Nathalie Pérreau A woman in her 50s enters the bar, accompanied by a couple of men in black jackets and dark glasses who open the door for her. The woman sits in a composed manner on one of the tables while the two men remain at a certain distance, looking around cautiously. The President of the European Federation takes the menu and looks for something that reminds her of her beloved France: "I hope the coffee here is great, I will definitely need it for the days to come." Addressing the two bodyguards he asked: "Do you want something? J'offre..." To the negative response of the two, the president tries to attract the waiter's attention. "Garçon! A rallongé accompanied by a simple Croissant, please.

He then walks over to the woman sitting at the bar, and her leather jacket-wearing bodyguards. "Morning, miss. You're looking very formal. Most of our guests are hippies or socialists, or stranded nuke blast survivors too I guess. Not to judge, of course. I do apologize, I don't quite know what you mean by a rallongé. Do you mean a café allongé , better known as a Lungo?"

[Slaver Pirates of Vaas]

snip

The burly barista lurches over. "Nice necklace, mate. But I am sorry, this is a pacifist zone, so we don't allow weapons of any kind. Also, guns, seriously? Like, ew. So just please remove them and drop them in our safety bin here." He gestures to a bright red box with 16 different locks and 3 police sirens/lights on it. Anyways we don't really serve hard liquor here, seeing in that this is a cafe and not a bar, but we do have some Irish coffee and a mean Kahlua affogato if you're interested. I'm real sorry, mates."

"Ah, well that's such a shame," the man replies, "Luckily, we came prepared."

One of the men behind him sets a large briefcase down on the table. Opening it up, it reveals a case of beer with what appears to be Spanish text on the label. Each man grabs a bottle from the briefcase before it is closed again.

"Name's Vaas by the way," he introduces, "My friend beside me here with the pistol is Diego. And uhh, the gun thing may be a problem..."

[European Federation Reunified]

(Image) President Nathalie Pérreau A woman in her 50s enters the bar, accompanied by a couple of men in black jackets and dark glasses who open the door for her. The woman sits in a composed manner on one of the tables while the two men remain at a certain distance, looking around cautiously. The President of the European Federation takes the menu and looks for something that reminds her of her beloved France: "I hope the coffee here is great, I will definitely need it for the days to come." Addressing the two bodyguards he asked: "Do you want something? J'offre..." To the negative response of the two, the president tries to attract the waiter's attention. "Garçon! A rallongé accompanied by a simple Croissant, please.

He then walks over to the woman sitting at the bar, and her leather jacket-wearing bodyguards. "Morning, miss. You're looking very formal. Most of our guests are hippies or socialists, or stranded nuke blast survivors too I guess. Not to judge, of course. I do apologize, I don't quite know what you mean by a rallongé. Do you mean a café allongé , better known as a Lungo?"

President Nathalie Pérreau The President made a gesture with her hand, as if to dispel any concern: "Oh well, I went into this bar because it is always the only one open in this area and I needed a good coffee after an international meeting." That said, she picked up a newspaper and looked on the front page where a headline in large letters read "THE END OF THE WORLD IS NEAR!" accompanied by an image of a mushroom cloud. "Either way, an allongé is just fine."

---

Here's what happens when you're not French and you rely on what you read on a travel blog. There it was said that rallongé and allongé are both accepted terms for Lungo coffee.

[Atomic Testing Museum]

Two museum employees walk into the coffee shop.

I will have the MAD Mocha and he'll have the Biohazard Brownie

[Middle Barael]

The burly barista lurches over. "Nice necklace, mate. But I am sorry, this is a pacifist zone, so we don't allow weapons of any kind. Also, guns, seriously? Like, ew. So just please remove them and drop them in our safety bin here." He gestures to a bright red box with 16 different locks and 3 police sirens/lights on it. Anyways we don't really serve hard liquor here, seeing in that this is a cafe and not a bar, but we do have some Irish coffee and a mean Kahlua affogato if you're interested. I'm real sorry, mates."

"Ah, well that's such a shame," the man replies, "Luckily, we came prepared."

One of the men behind him sets a large briefcase down on the table. Opening it up, it reveals a case of beer with what appears to be Spanish text on the label. Each man grabs a bottle from the briefcase before it is closed again.

"Name's Vaas by the way," he introduces, "My friend beside me here with the pistol is Diego. And uhh, the gun thing may be a problem..."

In a nasally, somewhat smug voice, the bartender responds, "Sirs, unless you temporarily hand over your firearms, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. I don't want any commotion though, so if you refuse to hand over the guns, just please leave of your own accord. I don't wanna have to force ya."

He then walks over to the woman sitting at the bar, and her leather jacket-wearing bodyguards. "Morning, miss. You're looking very formal. Most of our guests are hippies or socialists, or stranded nuke blast survivors too I guess. Not to judge, of course. I do apologize, I don't quite know what you mean by a rallongé. Do you mean a café allongé , better known as a Lungo?"

President Nathalie Pérreau The President made a gesture with her hand, as if to dispel any concern: "Oh well, I went into this bar because it is always the only one open in this area and I needed a good coffee after an international meeting." That said, she picked up a newspaper and looked on the front page where a headline in large letters read "THE END OF THE WORLD IS NEAR!" accompanied by an image of a mushroom cloud. "Either way, an allongé is just fine."

---

Here's what happens when you're not French and you rely on what you read on a travel blog. There it was said that rallongé and allongé are both accepted terms for Lungo coffee.

"Sorry about those folks, miss. Here's your Allongé, as requested. And just to check, neither you nor your bodyguards have any weapons on them, do they? If so they'll have to hand them over to us to put in our safety box, as this is a weapons-free zone."

Two museum employees walk into the coffee shop.

I will have the MAD Mocha and he'll have the Biohazard Brownie

"Done and done. Also, I noticed your museum guide shirts. What museum to you work at? I love going to museums, it's my favorite pastime. Well, that and reading wikipedia pages on political theory and coffee."

[European Federation Reunified]

(Image) President Nathalie Pérreau The President made a gesture with her hand, as if to dispel any concern: "Oh well, I went into this bar because it is always the only one open in this area and I needed a good coffee after an international meeting." That said, she picked up a newspaper and looked on the front page where a headline in large letters read "THE END OF THE WORLD IS NEAR!" accompanied by an image of a mushroom cloud. "Either way, an allongé is just fine."

---

Here's what happens when you're not French and you rely on what you read on a travel blog. There it was said that rallongé and allongé are both accepted terms for Lungo coffee.

"Sorry about those folks, miss. Here's your Allongé, as requested. And just to check, neither you nor your bodyguards have any weapons on them, do they? If so they'll have to hand them over to us to put in our safety box, as this is a weapons-free zone."

President Nathalie Pérreau "Oh, don't worry. I have already disarmed my guards when I saw the prohibition sign outside the bar. We Europeans are people who respect the rules. Not like certain individuals."

[Slaver Pirates of Vaas]

In a nasally, somewhat smug voice, the bartender responds, "Sirs, unless you temporarily hand over your firearms, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. I don't want any commotion though, so if you refuse to hand over the guns, just please leave of your own accord. I don't wanna have to force ya."

"Alright, fine. I guess we'll just have to hope no rival gang or family does a drive by here. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you?" Vaas asks rhetorically, "Boys, go put your guns in the box."

Each of the men, including Diego, goes to deposit their guns in the box beside the door. Vaas hands one of his guards his own pistol.

"I think the chick is implicitly bashing us"

"You think I don't know that? She's European. Doubly so if she's British too."

The group of men go to sit at two booths, each enjoying their beers they had brought with them.

[Conklandi]

A tired man wearing a baseball cap and shorts fell through the door.

He dragged himself with his relatively well-endowed arms onto the nearest wall.

There, he righted himself into a hunched form, with his arms hopelessly plopped on the wall.

"Can I have an espresso and a brownie?"

As he slumped across the nearest chair, he pulls out a surprisingly stainless newspaper from his shorts.

As he read it in a monotone Canadian accent, not much could have been heard apart from the words "antagonistic beaver" and "nuclear plant".

[Middle Barael]

"Sorry about those folks, miss. Here's your Allongé, as requested. And just to check, neither you nor your bodyguards have any weapons on them, do they? If so they'll have to hand them over to us to put in our safety box, as this is a weapons-free zone."

President Nathalie Pérreau "Oh, don't worry. I have already disarmed my guards when I saw the prohibition sign outside the bar. We Europeans are people who respect the rules. Not like certain individuals."

“Haha, yes, you Europeans are certainly more rule-following than a lot of places. Mighty respect for you guys. I lived in Amsterdam for 9 years, and I travelled across Southern Europe for a year, and it’s been some of the best of my life. Now, of course, I’m just in the Interdimensional Void of Vault 41, which is fun I guess.”

In a nasally, somewhat smug voice, the bartender responds, "Sirs, unless you temporarily hand over your firearms, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. I don't want any commotion though, so if you refuse to hand over the guns, just please leave of your own accord. I don't wanna have to force ya."

"Alright, fine. I guess we'll just have to hope no rival gang or family does a drive by here. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you?" Vaas asks rhetorically, "Boys, go put your guns in the box."

Each of the men, including Diego, goes to deposit their guns in the box beside the door. Vaas hands one of his guards his own pistol.

"I think the chick is implicitly bashing us"

"You think I don't know that? She's European. Doubly so if she's British too."

The group of men go to sit at two booths, each enjoying their beers they had brought with them.

“Ah, thank you all for coöperating. Now enjoy yourselves and your beers, though don’t badmouth Europe please!”

A tired man wearing a baseball cap and shorts fell through the door.

He dragged himself with his relatively well-endowed arms onto the nearest wall.

There, he righted himself into a hunched form, with his arms hopelessly plopped on the wall.

"Can I have an espresso and a brownie?"

As he slumped across the nearest chair, he pulls out a surprisingly stainless newspaper from his shorts.

As he read it in a monotone Canadian accent, not much could have been heard apart from the words "antagonistic beaver" and "nuclear plant".

“Biohazard Brownie, coming right up. And I’ll get you your Espresso shortly, sir.”