The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[Sierra Lyricalia]

Bell shakes his head, "Oh, no! Not again! I'm not stripping in the WAHQ ever again."

"I would hope not." Elsie remarks, visibly frowning, "I find where this has ended up distasteful."

Leo looks strained for a few moments but seems to think better of responding. Sadness appears to wash over him briefly, but then he brightens as his beverage arrives. He smacks his lips audibly after the first sip and takes a crunchy bite of the celery stalk leaning against the inside rim of his glass.

"Now that is how to start the morning good and proper!"

I will get you whatever you want if you take me home with you,” says the man, stopping his pacing for the time being. He fidgets with the straps of his backpack and nervously runs a hand through his beard. “Just as long as I don’t have to go back.”

"Now I don't happen to run a guest house any more than Mr. Bell operates a brothel. I do, however, have a sympathetic ear and a reliable personal vehicle. Have a drink, spill your troubles - not your glass - and let's see if we can't conspire to smuggle you someplace friendly! Smoke?"

[Wallenburg]

"I am Groot," says Groot, as he playfully waves a fifty-Groot bill in Bell's face, frowns, puts it away, takes out a ten-Groot bill, and waves that at Bell instead.

Bell shakes his head, "Oh, no! Not again! I'm not stripping in the WAHQ ever again."

Jennifer turns her head at Bell's objection. Mikael puts his hand on her shoulder and pushes her back around to face the ever-growing stack of paperwork.

[Marxist Germany]

Patrick leaves the bathroom with a tired look on him "I need to leave this place before I get sick," he says as he chugs another pint of Guinness.

"D'you think you could spare me the beer lids? I have a collection."

"Of course"

[Ferret Civilization]

Alethea pours yet another glass of milk for the dear Ferret, and passes it gently to Furrettium, while looking down at her own drink.

"You don't have to return the favour, but I really do appreciate it! I hope you've been enjoying this phase of unofficial retirement - you get to do everything and simultaneously nothing at all. It has indeed been a year plus for me out there, and I've been shuffling back and forth - given that this ain't my only role now. Talks about re-shuffling the federation, making the system more consociational... I'd rather be semi-retired, like you my old friend."

Alethea looked upon, realising how rude she was by not looking at Furrettium whilst talking, and continued:

"So, do you have any plans yourself? After this? Or up for a few more glasses of milk? I could certainly use the company of a dear old friend, if you wouldn't mind staying a bit longer and talking. I just hope I ain't holding you up at all..."

With that, Alethea waves her both arms at Neville, the trusty barman, who promptly brings another jug of milk (for the ferret) and a gin (Four Pillars no less) with elderflower cordial (for herself). She needed another drink.

"Wow." Furrettium finally said after some brief considerations while drinking the milk as it flowed. A lot of things had gone on around them in the bar during their short get together, funky time stuff or whatever. It affected the Ferret as well, going from wearing a formal suit that was trying to make him look like he belonged to something that looked like a world war one British conscript outfit minus all the war gear. "Well I am actually retired now, as weird as that is. You know how the bar is probably more than I do." The Ferret waved off any answer to that though and moved on to getting to the rest.

"No plans for what I am going to do, nothing to plan for when the nation I come from does not even have a plan for itself yet. Sitting here however has been doing me just fine, seeing friends and what not. So no, your not holding me up at all, and since I am not holding you up." Furrettium raised his glass to Alethea, "I'll certainly enjoy being your companion."

[This City of Ours]

"Now I don't happen to run a guest house any more than Mr. Bell operates a brothel. I do, however, have a sympathetic ear and a reliable personal vehicle. Have a drink, spill your troubles - not your glass - and let's see if we can't conspire to smuggle you someplace friendly! Smoke?"

The man sits down next to Leo, setting his backpack and freshly-foam sword on the ground next to the chair. "I'll have a-" Wait, what was normal here? In the City, you drank whatever you had the chance to, even if it was the foulest stuff imaginable. "-a whatever you're having. And sure, I'll take a "smoke"." It smelled like tobacco, which was worlds better than the pouches of unidentifiable herbs that occasionally made its way in through the Markets. Most of those didn't even do anything- it was like smoking chickweed- but some people would try anything.

"And no, I'm not looking for that kind of business. I just need a new place to live. I've spent too long in the City, and it's been driving me crazy. I'm Uwet. I'm one of Morza's men, but before that, I was of the Amapa."

[Sierra Lyricalia]

"Now I don't happen to run a guest house any more than Mr. Bell operates a brothel. I do, however, have a sympathetic ear and a reliable personal vehicle. Have a drink, spill your troubles - not your glass - and let's see if we can't conspire to smuggle you someplace friendly! Smoke?"

The man sits down next to Leo, setting his backpack and freshly-foam sword on the ground next to the chair. "I'll have a-" Wait, what was normal here? In the City, you drank whatever you had the chance to, even if it was the foulest stuff imaginable. "-a whatever you're having. And sure, I'll take a "smoke"." It smelled like tobacco, which was worlds better than the pouches of unidentifiable herbs that occasionally made its way in through the Markets. Most of those didn't even do anything- it was like smoking chickweed- but some people would try anything.

"And no, I'm not looking for that kind of business. I just need a new place to live. I've spent too long in the City, and it's been driving me crazy. I'm Uwet. I'm one of Morza's men, but before that, I was of the Amapa."

Making sure Bell's taken all the leaf he needs, Leo slides the pouch in front of Uwet. "Roll it as you like, sir - papers and filters ought to be in there someplace, too." He waves at the nearest bartender. "Publican! A bloody Mary for my new chum here, if you please! Obliged," he says with a tip of an imaginary hat. "I'll be straight with you, sir, I know none of your proper nouns just referenced here, but I do gather enough to know when a man's on the run from his... ah, business associates. We can discuss particulars when you're a bit less parched, but do feel free to ask regarding anything from simple relocation to full political asylum. But here! Wet your whistle, take a drag, and relax a moment. Fortunately, nobody's in any rush here."

"Unfortunately, that seems to include my eggs. Anyone for a hand of poker while we wait? Hearts? Napoleon?"

[This City of Ours]

Making sure Bell's taken all the leaf he needs, Leo slides the pouch in front of Uwet. "Roll it as you like, sir - papers and filters ought to be in there someplace, too." He waves at the nearest bartender. "Publican! A bloody Mary for my new chum here, if you please! Obliged," he says with a tip of an imaginary hat. "I'll be straight with you, sir, I know none of your proper nouns just referenced here, but I do gather enough to know when a man's on the run from his... ah, business associates. We can discuss particulars when you're a bit less parched, but do feel free to ask regarding anything from simple relocation to full political asylum. But here! Wet your whistle, take a drag, and relax a moment. Fortunately, nobody's in any rush here."

"Unfortunately, that seems to include my eggs. Anyone for a hand of poker while we wait? Hearts? Napoleon?"

Uwet takes the pouch and fishes around in it until he finds a piece of rolling paper. The filters he leaves alone. “I’m only somewhat on the run,” he says, taking a pinch of tobacco from the pouch. “I mean, Morza won’t be happy about me leaving- Outsiders are valuable in the City- but he’s limited in his ability to get me back. Neighborhood politics, you understand. No, it’s not him I need to worry about, it’s... look, if anyone comes in looking for anyone, I’m not here.”

Breaking into the Wheelhouse was probably the riskiest thing he’d ever done since he’d first arrived in the City. Someone was sure to pursue at some point. Hopefully just a member of the Sel family. Hopefully not a band of Khu Cua’s thugs looking to make an example of him.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what ‘poker’ is. Some sort of game?”

[This City of Ours]

After a moment, Uwet cautiously asked, “Do your people normally help with... “relocations?””

[Marxist Germany]

After a moment, Uwet cautiously asked, “Do your people normally help with... “relocations?””

"Er..Um..No?"

[This City of Ours]

Uwet gives the newcomer an odd look, “I was talking to this man here, who offered to help me,” he says with a nod in Leo’s direction. “But if you’re offering to help, too...”

[Bears Armed]

Uwet takes the pouch and fishes around in it until he finds a piece of rolling paper. The filters he leaves alone. “I’m only somewhat on the run,” he says, taking a pinch of tobacco from the pouch. “I mean, Morza won’t be happy about me leaving- Outsiders are valuable in the City- but he’s limited in his ability to get me back. Neighborhood politics, you understand. No, it’s not him I need to worry about, it’s... look, if anyone comes in looking for anyone, I’m not here.”

Breaking into the Wheelhouse was probably the riskiest thing he’d ever done since he’d first arrived in the City. Someone was sure to pursue at some point. Hopefully just a member of the Sel family. Hopefully not a band of Khu Cua’s thugs looking to make an example of him.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what ‘poker’ is. Some sort of game?”

After a moment, Uwet cautiously asked, “Do your people normally help with... “relocations?””

Such is the peculiar manner of the way in which time passes here that during the moment that elapsed between those two questions, over on the other side of the room, the Bears have enjoyed a lengthy New Year’s party — cleared up after themselves — gone away to sleep it off — and returned again to normal business.
(Their just-passed New Year’s Eve & New Year’s Day fell on what users of the Gregorian calendar would call the 29th & 30th of March respectively, this year: According to the Urrsish calendar it is now the year ‘4188’, i.e. the eighth year of the eighth octade of the first yonkh of the fourth eight-yonkh. New Year’s Day is when the ‘High Council of Clans (and other Confederated Bodys)’, the national legislature, elects some of its members to form the new year’s government. This year the ‘ChairBear of the High Council’ (whose serves the nation as [mostly just ceremonial] head-of-state as well as as Speaker of the legislature) is Orraie o GreenWoods and the ‘Chairbear [of the Committee] for Little Bear’ (the actual head-of-government) is Jhorro o BerryGlades. They replace Borrin o Redwood (who first became well-known as the original leader of our mission to the UN & WA), who actually held both of those positions simultaneously.)

[Sierra Lyricalia]

After a moment, Uwet cautiously asked, “Do your people normally help with... “relocations?””

Leo takes a swig off his bloody Mary and grins sardonically. "With our history, it's rather unavoidable that we'd become good at it, I think. Living across open borders from a capitalist theocracy whose movers and shakers frankly still resent our independence; harboring all their dissidents and freethinkers... It is fair to say we know a thing or two about... Hmm, 'witness protection.'"

He continues in a much lower voice. "You understand I require a fairly comprehensive accounting before committing to anything. But if you're legit, I am your man."

Leo resumes a normal conversational tone. "Yes, poker is a game of cards - in my country, and certain... close neighbors, it is the card game. I had the devil's own time trying to play it in here the last time I made the attempt, but if you're keen I'll happily try again. Now, let's..."

He trails off as one of the bar staff sets a nice hot ceramic plate in front of him, bearing a large slab of omelet, several pieces of toast, and a small bowl of bright red strawberries and succulent green grapes.

"Apologies, sir - perhaps after breakfast? I am famished!"

[Whovian Tardisia]

Bell shakes his head, "Oh, no! Not again! I'm not stripping in the WAHQ ever again."

Jennifer turns her head at Bell's objection. Mikael puts his hand on her shoulder and pushes her back around to face the ever-growing stack of paperwork.

Damnit, Wally, you made me bust a gut. Never change.

Through the door (for once) comes a familiar chap in a blue suit, albeit slightly more bedraggled and tired than usual. He plonks himself onto a barstool, running his hands up his face before speaking.
"Lager, Neville. Basic stuff, maybe Golden Cross if you've got it. You probably do. Do they even make a lager? It's been ages since I've had one. Was I still at the Academy? Maybe not actually, I don't think they..."
This pedantic drivel continues until a glass hits the wood in front of him with a dull thunk.
"...on top of all this red tape. Ah, thank you. Sorry for going on like that, it's been far too quiet in my office lately."
He takes a sip, and a little light is restored to his eyes.

[The Puddle Jumping Wads of Wrapper]

(A handsome, milquetoast, lightly goateed, forty-ish man enters the bar. He is dressed in a long trench coat that grazes the floor as he slowly and carefully walks up to the bar. He adjusts his dark sunglasses, which seemingly are causing slight discomfort, perhaps because they do not properly fit his face. He lowers the sunglasses a bit and scans the bar as if he is looking for someone. Or something. He looks at the row of barstools, and selects one on the end, conveniently placed next to a nondescript plant that may or may not be a fake fern. He clears is throat and leans over toward the plant.)

AHUME: Now, I don’t know if you’re a member of the hivemind or not, but if you are, please let him know that I received his message and—

(He abruptly sits upright as the bartender approaches. He raises a finger and is about to speak his order, but he soon frowns, as the bartender has placed the usual fruity concoction, complete with paper umbrella, a biodegradable straw, and a hint of methanol aroma, in front of the apparently-not-so-incognito man.)

AHUME: Erm. Thank you, Neville. (leans back toward the plant) As I said, tell him I got his message, and to meet me here in the bar. And, if you’re not part of the hivemind... (looks around to see if anyone is watching him) ...who’s a good planty-wanty? You need some wa-wa?

[Marxist Germany]

(A handsome, milquetoast, lightly goateed, forty-ish man enters the bar. He is dressed in a long trench coat that grazes the floor as he slowly and carefully walks up to the bar. He adjusts his dark sunglasses, which seemingly are causing slight discomfort, perhaps because they do not properly fit his face. He lowers the sunglasses a bit and scans the bar as if he is looking for someone. Or something. He looks at the row of barstools, and selects one on the end, conveniently placed next to a nondescript plant that may or may not be a fake fern. He clears is throat and leans over toward the plant.)

AHUME: Now, I don’t know if you’re a member of the hivemind or not, but if you are, please let him know that I received his message and—

(He abruptly sits upright as the bartender approaches. He raises a finger and is about to speak his order, but he soon frowns, as the bartender has placed the usual fruity concoction, complete with paper umbrella, a biodegradable straw, and a hint of methanol aroma, in front of the apparently-not-so-incognito man.)

AHUME: Erm. Thank you, Neville. (leans back toward the plant) As I said, tell him I got his message, and to meet me here in the bar. And, if you’re not part of the hivemind... (looks around to see if anyone is watching him) ...who’s a good planty-wanty? You need some wa-wa?

Connor turns around to look at the man talking to a plant
"Ambasador, are you alright? You seem to be talking to an insentient plant."
He turns back to his Guinness and the ever growing stack of papers

[WA Kitty Kops]

AHUME: Erm. Thank you, Neville. (leans back toward the plant) As I said, tell him I got his message, and to meet me here in the bar. And, if you’re not part of the hivemind... (looks around to see if anyone is watching him) ...who’s a good planty-wanty? You need some wa-wa?

Something brushed against his leg, and when he looked down, a small and very floofy cat looked up at him. It blinked its eyes slowly, even though it doubted the human understood the cat body language for a friendly smile. Humans were almost useless creatures in Spy Mistress's opinion. Only good for pettings and opening food cans, really. She could have fouled her mouth with the human language, to tell him that while the fern he was talking to, was plastic, there was a very large carnivore perched on a roof beam above him, and that the carnivore - who could probably hear the blood flowing through his arteries - was able to pass his message on to the green mind much more effectively than her. She could have, but she instead opted to wrapping her tail around his lower leg. As close to a hug that a proper cat would ever stoop to.

[Skylus]

AHUME: Erm. Thank you, Neville. (leans back toward the plant) As I said, tell him I got his message, and to meet me here in the bar. And, if you’re not part of the hivemind... (looks around to see if anyone is watching him) ...who’s a good planty-wanty? You need some wa-wa?

Something brushed against his leg, and when he looked down, a small and very floofy cat looked up at him. It blinked its eyes slowly, even though it doubted the human understood the cat body language for a friendly smile. Humans were almost useless creatures in Spy Mistress's opinion. Only good for pettings and opening food cans, really. She could have fouled her mouth with the human language, to tell him that while the fern he was talking to, was plastic, there was a very large carnivore perched on a roof beam above him, and that the carnivore - who could probably hear the blood flowing through his arteries - was able to pass his message on to the green mind much more effectively than her. She could have, but she instead opted to wrapping her tail around his lower leg. As close to a hug that a proper cat would ever stoop to.

The door slammed open as Madi stepped into the bar.
"Well. Exciting things have been happening. We left our old region, the Clave, for the region of...."
She summoned a paper from nowhere.
"...'The Federation of Anarchist Communes'. Interesting."
The Witch walked up to the bar and sat down near Pink.
"how have you been, Pink? Hi Ahume, Neville. I'll have some spiced apple Butterbeer, if you don't mind."

[Maowi]

AHUME: Erm. Thank you, Neville. (leans back toward the plant) As I said, tell him I got his message, and to meet me here in the bar. And, if you’re not part of the hivemind... (looks around to see if anyone is watching him) ...who’s a good planty-wanty? You need some wa-wa?

Something brushed against his leg, and when he looked down, a small and very floofy cat looked up at him. It blinked its eyes slowly, even though it doubted the human understood the cat body language for a friendly smile. Humans were almost useless creatures in Spy Mistress's opinion. Only good for pettings and opening food cans, really. She could have fouled her mouth with the human language, to tell him that while the fern he was talking to, was plastic, there was a very large carnivore perched on a roof beam above him, and that the carnivore - who could probably hear the blood flowing through his arteries - was able to pass his message on to the green mind much more effectively than her. She could have, but she instead opted to wrapping her tail around his lower leg. As close to a hug that a proper cat would ever stoop to.

Phil looks over the large glass of water he's been hiding behind. Stowing the beer lids in his pocket, he tiptoes over to the cat. You don't really see cats around Maowi, and this one is particularly floofy.

Cautiously, he offers it his hand to smell. He's heard it said that cats don't speak to strangers unless they've smelled their hand.

[Araraukar]

*snip*

Johan entered the Bar, wearing casual clothes, a backbag slung over his shoulder. He made his way to where Ahume was sitting, nodded to the cat that was just sniffing the Maowian person's hand, glanced up towards the ceiling and nodded to something in that direction as well, before taking up the seat next to Ahume. He then placed some official paperwork on the bar counter in front of the other man.

"I wish I could say it was nice to see you here, Ahume," he said somewhat sadly, "but I am about to walk away from everything and everyone I've known so far. Well, almost everyone, if I'm allowed to bring our mutual friend along." He then showed Ahume a large seed that looked like a shiny black walnut. "If not, it doesn't mind."

[Skylus]

OOC: edited my post, I apologize for the godmodding.

[This City of Ours]

He continues in a much lower voice. "You understand I require a fairly comprehensive accounting before committing to anything. But if you're legit, I am your man."

Leo resumes a normal conversational tone. "Yes, poker is a game of cards - in my country, and certain... close neighbors, it is the card game. I had the devil's own time trying to play it in here the last time I made the attempt, but if you're keen I'll happily try again. Now, let's..."

He trails off as one of the bar staff sets a nice hot ceramic plate in front of him, bearing a large slab of omelet, several pieces of toast, and a small bowl of bright red strawberries and succulent green grapes.

"Apologies, sir - perhaps after breakfast? I am famished!"

“Can I join you in that?” asks Uwet even as he reaches down for his backpack. After rummaging around in it (which involved removing a small sewing kit and a large wrench, to make room for the search), he retrieves a small leather pouch, from which he draws a couple of small, stamped chips of aluminum. “Can I get one of those too?” he calls out to the closest waiter.

He then says in a quiet voice, matching Leo’s own, “I’m not sure what you mean by accounting. I have a small amount of funds-” At this he pats the leather pouch, before slipping it back in his backpack. “-and I can work. I spent the past 20 breaths in the City- and there, if you don’t work, you don’t eat. I can fight, if you need a soldier. I can take a pile of junk and turn it into something moderately useful, if you don’t. And I’m pretty strong for, you know, Cityfolk.”

[Whovian Tardisia]

"Well. Exciting things have been happening. We left our old region, the Clave, for the region of...."
She summoned a paper from nowhere.
"...'The Federation of Anarchist Communes'. Interesting."
The Witch walked up to the bar and sat down near Pink.
"how have you been, Pink? Hi Ahume, Neville. I'll have some spiced apple Butterbeer, if you don't mind."

A crack in a nearby wall pulsated with light as Pink turned to the witch.
"Not as well as usual, I'm afraid. Been terribly busy, had to catch up on some paperwork after a recent escapade. I'm nearing the end of it now, though, at least for a while."
His gaze turned to the crack, and he let out a small sigh.
"Was that you? Regions and that?"
The crack brightened slightly.
"I wouldn't, if I were you. Who knows what else might come through there."

Regions are considered a gameplay thing, so don't exist IC. Same goes for the SC, as a general reminder. #notamod

[Wallenburg]

Mikael's face brightens when he notices the Wad's appearance in the bar. "Hey, Ahume's back!" He stands up from his bar stool and approaches the plant whisperer, mostly ignoring Ambassador Milkus.

In a rather loud voice that carries well across the nearest tables, Mikael greets Ahume. "My mind, it's been some time! What are you doing here? Visiting? Conspiring? Subjecting yourself yet again to ambassadorial duties? Most who escape this place don't come back without a good reason."

[Valentine Z]

A young woman of height 8' 6" entered the bar. She's wearing her usual outfit along with her scarf, minus the weapon holsters. In fact, she has left her weapons outside for this exact purpose; Jolyn was told that weapons are not allowed in this premise, but she figured that she would hop into it to at least get a drink, and perhaps talk to some people, and a break from running Victoriaans Nederlands.

Goodness me, so many strange faces around here! I hope they are as friendly as those in that bar a few blocks away! ... Here goes something!
- Vice Foresittend Jolyn Maxine Caulfield Moira Marlene Wendy Lucille Lapis Jill “Неуловимый” Nvt. Zolina łnt. Natasha Vasilisa Helen Ceeta

Jolyn quietly walked towards her way to the bartender.

[Bears Armed]

Regions are considered a gameplay thing, so don't exist IC. Same goes for the SC, as a general reminder. #notamod

That's only a rule for the purpose of GA proposal legality: If people want to include the existence of regions, and even of the SC, in their roleplay then they're perfectly entitled to do so.