The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[Araraukar]

Fairburn: (enters the Bar) Great news, everyone! I'm ba... (sees Janis and Giovanni) Um...on second thoughts, I'm going back to the hospital. (exits)

"Hmm, an unexpected advantage," said Janis, not particularly to anyone. "Will definitely have to remember Shirtless Sunday as a deterrence to some annoyances..."

OOC: Well, actually, no, no he's not.

OOC: Unless he's clothed, he's naked. Only thing I ever remember him wearing was a hat of some kind. If Janis only had a hat on, would you say she was clothed or naked?

[The Atlae Isles]

George tipped the bartender, stood up, and said, "Two shirtless people keep Fairburn away. That sounds like a fair bargain and a good joke." He walks out, still pretending to be sober.

[Kitzerland]

OOC: Well, actually, no, no he's not.

OOC: Unless he's clothed, he's naked. Only thing I ever remember him wearing was a hat of some kind. If Janis only had a hat on, would you say she was clothed or naked?

He's wearing glasses, a shirt, pants, and a vest. I'm not sure where you got the hat from, though I'm the first to admit my character building isn't the most consistent

[The Cheeki Breeki Anarchists]

Senka comes Cossack dancing into the bar. "Ка-Калинка! Привит! I FINALLY GOT A RAISE! Водка! Now"

[Whovian Tardisia]

Pink casually points his sonic device at the Police Box in the corner to check the translator. There appears to be a fault. Grumbling, he steps inside. After pulling a few levers, he exits, with his fingers crossed. Noticing his empty glass, he walks up to the bar. "Jimmy! Can you grab me another ale?" he requests. "Coming up." Jimmy replies, as he pours the drink and hands it over. "Thanks Jim." Pink adds, as he returns to his seat and takes a sip.

[Thethethethethe]

The, the leader of Thethethethethe enters the bar. She sits down and attempts to order a double-shot mocha cappuccino, hoping they serve that here.
"Ugh, I was just viewing the World Assembly poll. Who the heck has been voting against "liberate the bee land?" This issue is about injustice from some raiders called the mafia, and yet over 5,000 votes have been made AGAINST their liberation! Is it just me, or does anyone else smell treachery here?"

[Wallenburg]

The, the leader of Thethethethethe enters the bar. She sits down and attempts to order a double-shot mocha cappuccino, hoping they serve that here.
"Ugh, I was just viewing the World Assembly poll. Who the heck has been voting against "liberate the bee land?" This issue is about injustice from some raiders called the mafia, and yet over 5,000 votes have been made AGAINST their liberation! Is it just me, or does anyone else smell treachery here?"

Ogenbond raises his hand slightly. "I have been voting against it. As it is, I doubt many of the people around here will understand what you are talking about. This establishment is part of the General Assembly campus. Go over to the west end of the headquarters to discuss condemnations and commendations."

[States of Glory WA Office]

Fairburn re-enters the bar.

Fairburn: Right, I think they're gone. What's the word on the street?

[Sapient Hammers United]

The, the leader of Thethethethethe enters the bar. She sits down and attempts to order a double-shot mocha cappuccino, hoping they serve that here.
"Ugh, I was just viewing the World Assembly poll. Who the heck has been voting against "liberate the bee land?" This issue is about injustice from some raiders called the mafia, and yet over 5,000 votes have been made AGAINST their liberation! Is it just me, or does anyone else smell treachery here?"

Ogenbond raises his hand slightly. "I have been voting against it. As it is, I doubt many of the people around here will understand what you are talking about. This establishment is part of the General Assembly campus. Go over to the west end of the headquarters to discuss condemnations and commendations."

From outside the bar, there is a brief commotion amidst the mass of Gnomes running back and forth to their various Committee offices. After several seconds of this, a Hammer flies into the room, letting out a terrible screech regarding the nonexistence of the Security Council, slamming directly into the Thethethethethe's leader, and propelling them directly through the window leading to the Reflecting Pool. After several seconds, another Hammer similarly enters the bar, this time screeching along until hitting, Ogenbond, sending him out the window as well.

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbond raises his hand slightly. "I have been voting against it. As it is, I doubt many of the people around here will understand what you are talking about. This establishment is part of the General Assembly campus. Go over to the west end of the headquarters to discuss condemnations and commendations."

From outside the bar, there is a brief commotion amidst the mass of Gnomes running back and forth to their various Committee offices. After several seconds of this, a Hammer flies into the room, letting out a terrible screech regarding the nonexistence of the Security Council, slamming directly into the Thethethethethe's leader, and propelling them directly through the window leading to the Reflecting Pool. After several seconds, another Hammer similarly enters the bar, this time screeching along until hitting, Ogenbond, sending him out the window as well.

"But I didn't say the forbidden wooooooooorrrrrrddds....." he cries out as he falls down to the pool below.

[Araraukar]

Fairburn: Right, I think they're gone. What's the word on the street?

"Who are gone?" asked Janis, still enjoying her lack of shirt. She had found a benefit of having part of her torso bare: it allowed her to drink her cocoa hotter as she didn't have to worry about feeling uncomfortably hot or sweating. "And the words to avoid seem to be anything to do with non-GA functions," she added, observing Ogenbond's fate.

[Whovian Tardisia]

*snip*

"Ah, the hammers are back. Nice timing, but the execution was harsh. I'd give it a six." Pink commented, spinning his stool to observe the window damage. "Somebody had aught to just leave that thing open. I can't imagine what the gnomes will say when they find out we broke it again."

[The Atlae Isles]

*snip*

"Ah, the hammers are back. Nice timing, but the execution was harsh. I'd give it a six." Pink commented, spinning his stool to observe the window damage. "Somebody had aught to just leave that thing open. I can't imagine what the gnomes will say when they find out we broke it again."

"I suspect they'll make either the defenestrated or the hammers pay for it. Or they'll take it out of Neville's tip money." George said, handing him a tip. "Here you go, lad."

[States of Glory WA Office]

Fairburn: Right, I think they're gone. What's the word on the street?

"Who are gone?" asked Janis, still enjoying her lack of shirt. She had found a benefit of having part of her torso bare: it allowed her to drink her cocoa hotter as she didn't have to worry about feeling uncomfortably hot or sweating. "And the words to avoid seem to be anything to do with non-GA functions," she added, observing Ogenbond's fate.

Fairburn: I know who said that, and I'm not going to look.

"Somebody had aught to just leave that thing open. I can't imagine what the gnomes will say when they find out we broke it again."

IIRC, the window actually has to be open when defenestrations occur.

"Ah, the hammers are back. Nice timing, but the execution was harsh. I'd give it a six." Pink commented, spinning his stool to observe the window damage. "Somebody had aught to just leave that thing open. I can't imagine what the gnomes will say when they find out we broke it again."

"I suspect they'll make either the defenestrated or the hammers pay for it. Or they'll take it out of Neville's tip money." George said, handing him a tip. "Here you go, lad."

Fairburn: Let's just hope that they charge the correct Neville. (grins)

[Whovian Tardisia]

10. Brawling is encouraged and enjoyed, but Neville appreciates it if you give him time to pull the metal shutters over the big mirrors behind the bar. Please open the window before you defenestrate.

That sounds more like a request than a hard rule, and Hammers didn't specifically open it. But I digress, and will probably become the person who makes sure it stays open.

"I suspect they'll make either the defenestrated or the hammers pay for it. Or they'll take it out of Neville's tip money." George said, handing him a tip. "Here you go, lad."

Fairburn: Let's just hope that they charge the correct Neville. (grins)

"Don't go getting any sly ideas." Pink responded. "Speaking of that Neville, where has he snuck off to?"

[The Cheeki Breeki Anarchists]

OOC:
It is TCBA's first complete year of operation. Happy birthday to me.

[Wallenburg]

OOC:
It is TCBA's first complete year of operation. Happy birthday to me.

OOC: On that note, I missed Wallenburg's second birthday. I'm a terrible father. ;-;

IC: Ogenbond enters the bar, even more drenched than before. "What...what the hell was that about? Excuse me, but I wish to register a complaint against the sapient hammers!"

[Sapient Hammers United]

Ogenbond enters the bar, even more drenched than before. "What...what the hell was that about? Excuse me, but I wish to register a complaint against the sapient hammers!"

From the corner of the bar, where the various assembled Delegates of the 2x4 Confederacy sat, occasionally banging away at poorly constructed furniture, came a piercing cry; "LUUUUCEEEEEERNE!". Several moments later, a tall, well-forged Lucerne Hammer entered the Bar. From the same corner, one of the Delegates called out; "If you's got anytin' to sey, tell it to 'er!"

Turning to Ogenbond, Lucerne begins to speak in an unmistakable Swiss accent; "Clearly, you have something to say to me, Sir Representative. Do go on."

[States of Glory WA Office]

Fairburn: Let's just hope that they charge the correct Neville. (grins)

"Don't go getting any sly ideas." Pink responded. "Speaking of that Neville, where has he snuck off to?"

Fairburn: He is still in the hospital after jumping out of a closed window. The poor fellow can never tell whether people are talking to him or to the bartender.

10. Brawling is encouraged and enjoyed, but Neville appreciates it if you give him time to pull the metal shutters over the big mirrors behind the bar. Please open the window before you defenestrate.

That sounds more like a request than a hard rule, and Hammers didn't specifically open it. But I digress, and will probably become the person who makes sure it stays open.

There are people here who would argue that a request is a hard rule.

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbond enters the bar, even more drenched than before. "What...what the hell was that about? Excuse me, but I wish to register a complaint against the sapient hammers!"

From the corner of the bar, where the various assembled Delegates of the 2x4 Confederacy sat, occasionally banging away at poorly constructed furniture, came a piercing cry; "LUUUUCEEEEEERNE!". Several moments later, a tall, well-forged Lucerne Hammer entered the Bar. From the same corner, one of the Delegates called out; "If you's got anytin' to sey, tell it to 'er!"

Turning to Ogenbond, Lucerne begins to speak in an unmistakable Swiss accent; "Clearly, you have something to say to me, Sir Representative. Do go on."

Ogenbond gives his attention to the rather tall war hammer. "Indeed I do...hammer. Not an hour ago, members of your kind assaulted me and launched me out the window."

Ogenbond stops for a moment. The peculiarity of speaking to a hammer--and a rather unusual one at that--perhaps trumped that of any other experience with foreign delegations. Even the hivemind of Potted Plants United made more sense. At least plants are made of organic material. Hammers are wood and metal! "Now, I'm not one to complain about a good old defenestration," Ogenbond continues, "but the reasoning behind it fails to satisfy me. It would seem that I was sent out yonder window for the crime of mentioning our...erm...neighbors. However, I did not say the forbidden words, and merely alluded to the organization."

[Sophista]

What mischief stirs from a darkened corner of long-forgotten offices on the thirtieth floor? In days long past, the National Mission of the Federated States of Sophista to the World Assembly were a hub of diplomatic activity, a font of counsel for those who dared to unite the world in common cause. Its diplomats were afforded the utmost of respect, even amidst fierce disagreements between the greatest of nations. Ah, but legends die. And sure as the embassy had shuttered its doors while the glorious citizenry of Sophista turned their attention inward, so too had the memory of their contributions to the world dwindled. Who would notice, then, the soft glow of office lights dark for ten years prior? The hum of computers -- direly in need of an upgrade, no doubt! -- and the shuffling of so many papers? It was thus that a certain man, his name spoken now only in stories, decided to return to the same sprawling complex of drink and debate where his journey had begun.

"My, my. How the world has changed."

There were countless new faces, and a bureaucratic machinery of incredible sophistication. There were new rules to learn, new thoughts to entertain, and arguments to consider. It was a simple thing to feel out of place, even amidst the institutions forged in legend by the man's own hands. Then again, the Sophistans had never been strangers to change, nor shy about embracing new challenges.

"Sorry to intrude," the man offered to no one in particular, "but could someone point me to the new bar? Things are . . ah . . a bit different since my last visit."

Would there be cause for introduction? What an amusing prospect: to be simultaneously famous and forgotten. Well, he'd brought business cards all the same.

[Astrolinium]

Giovanni looked up from his newspaper, still shirtless -- notably, it was a different paper, now with today's date -- and glanced at the newcomer.

"You're in it, pal," he said. He took a sip of brandy and went back to reading.

[Imperium Anglorum]

Parsons walks in, having just gotten off the train from London. He pops his coat on the coat-rack in the corner, sits down, and open up a copy of the Financial Times in a quiet corner of the bar, warmed by the Eternal Flame and lit by a cast-iron lantern.

One of the waiters walks over and asks him what he would like to have, he answers, 'A shepard's pie, a whiskey'. As the waiter relays his order back to the kitchen, he spots Minister Hillaker, and calls over 'Hello! I don't think we've met!'.

[Albithica]

Ambassador Mark Davis cautiously walked into the bar. He swore he would never come to this place, but after nearly a month of no activity in the General Assembly, his curiosity got the better of him. Davis inconspicuously crept along the side of the bar until he reached the furthest seat away from the main action. "Umm... excuse me. Can I have a..." Davis stopped mid sentence, the bartender waiting for his order. It was at that moment Ambassador Davis realized that he had actually never had an alcoholic beverage in his life. No, that couldn't be. His face turned pale white, his eyes widening. The bartender, confused, turned his attention away and continued doing something else. Meanwhile, in the maelstrom that was the Ambassador's mind, Davis was racking his memory for any instance he consumed alcohol. None. He was around the stuff plenty of times. How... how could he have avoided it for so long? Snapping out of his stupor, he looked around and noticed a couple patrons staring at him. Waving politely, Davis promptly slid off the barstool, dropping to under the bar, hidden from view. Did he even know any alcoholic drinks? "Well, I have gotten this far. I can't just leave. This is the Stranger's Bar for heavens sake. And apparently, I don't know what alcohol even is!" Davis spoke quietly to himself. Maybe if he just spoke some random words, they might pass off as drinks. He raised back to his feet, bumping his head against the bar, which got the bartenders attention again. "Yes, bartender. I would like to have umm... uhh." He apparently forgot what words were too. The Ambassador quickly pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, and read the first words that he say. "Yes! A "Dastardly Menaces" and a shot of "Wrong Hands", please!" The bartender stared for awhile, and then smiled. "Sure, right away!" Relieved, Davis stared back at the crumpled paper in his hands. "How did this get in here?" Davis spoke aloud to himself. He crumpled the paper back up and put it in his pocket.

Soon, the bartender gave Davis his drinks. The Ambassador just stared at them. "I have no idea how this is going to taste." He picked up his shot of "Wrong Hands" and downed it. Surprisingly, it wasn't very strong at all, having a very vague taste in general. He then took a swig of his "Dastardly Menaces", and immediately coughed. That was strong. His throat burned, but he sucked it up so the other Ambassadors wouldn't notice. One patron heard his cough, and raised his glass towards him, Davis did the same, and took another swig of the strong concoction, smiling/wincing at the man who just toasted him. "Why did I think this was a good idea?" Davis thought to himself, as he started to sip the drink now, rather than swig the damned thing.

[Sophista]

If ever existed a stranger place than the Stranger's Bar, its memory was lost to time. That three men of such markedly different character -- and fashion accessories, of course -- might come to inhabit the same corner of booze-soaked wonderland was but one of the many delightful truths of life at the World Assembly. Daniel regarded each with a nod, not yet recognizing any of the assembled patrons. Well, time to make new friends then? That's what diplomats were for, after all.

"No, I don't believe so," the ambassador offered to the lantern-wielding discussant. "Daniel Hillaker, Minister of Foreign Affairs, the Federated States of Sophista."

Ugh. He remembered when the name used to have weight. He'd written the book on writing resolutions! That was before the Security Council, before the Great Rebranding, before the Dodgeball War, and certainly before these people had joined the esteemed and esoteric body known as the World Assembly. Well, at least people had learned. He'd browsed the body's most recent work, all of it a far cry better than the drivel spouted in what was now diplomatic antiquity. And they'd repealed most of the nonsense, too! Bah, if only they'd been able to repeal things back then!

"You're one of the World Assembly's more prolific authors, hm?" More than Mr. Hillaker himself had ever written, certainly. Alas, but his one great achievement had come by way of legacy, during the Interregnum, when the Federated States had been declared CTE. Whatever that meant. "Congratulations. That's a tough hill to climb."