The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[Tiekerrick]

Benjamin Verigol is an average height, slender man. Wearing a loose red and black striped tie with a white shirt with the top button undone and his cuff links bear the images of a grolar bear on the left sleeve and a mountain range on the right, he leaves the Assembly hall to the obscure location where the reps meet outside of the normal debate. With his greying brown hair and stubble he presents the image of a sophisticated worker. He walks out of the mist to the bar's front door and enters quietly. Noting his surroundings he moves to the bar and orders a simple coffee as he watches the proceedings on the screen. He waits and listens with his cup, seeking the proper opening.

[Allied Sapients]

The Voleo diplomat had never left the bar, but had merely been entertaining themself by listening in on the conversations around them. Finally, bored, they walked up to the nearest person and went to rest their chin on that person’s leg, like some sort of leonine dog.

“Diplomat!” called Lirn Jenht Olsh. “That’s rude here!”

The Voleo, apparently named Diplomat, huffed in response. Apparently they thought otherwise.

[Disembodied Voice]

“Diplomat!” called Lirn Jenht Olsh. “That’s rude here!”

"Could even count as sexual assault, if their genitals are near the top of their thigh," a quiet voice said right behind their left ear. It sounded amused.

[Allied Sapients]

"Could even count as sexual assault, if their genitals are near the top of their thigh," a quiet voice said right behind their left ear. It sounded amused.

Diplomat turned their head to look at... nothing, apparently. The speaker was nothing. That was strange. “That would be a very silly place to put genitals,” they said firmly. “And I’m sure no reasonable course of evolution would do something like that.”

On the other side of the bar, Ambassador Olsh made a gesture that was strikingly similar to a facepalm.

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbond kicks gently at the entrance to the bar, letting the door drift open. Empty tables and even more empty chairs fill the floor in a neat checkerboard pattern. "Okay, that's probably for the best," Ogenbond murmurs, acknowledging the slow business the bar is receiving. He enters carrying a basket of sorts, in which sleeps an infant Wallenburgian. He quickly finds a table and waves over Jimmy.

"Can I get some apple juice and a sandwich? Any sandwich, really."

Jimmy considers the situation briefly, his attention on the basket. "Ambassador, are you sure you wouldn't rather eat back at your office?"

Ogenbond nods with certainty. "Definitely. I can't be in there today, it's an administrative nightmare. Hey, could I also get a newspaper from Castilia? I'm sure something in there will catch my eye. Perhaps the entertainment section."

"Sure, Ambassador." Jimmy leaves to get the food, eyeing the Wallenburgian carefully.

[Living Corporations]

An aging man wearing a well-tailored business suit walks into the bar, passes by the two bickering corporations, who had at some point gotten into a tangent about venture capitalism, and without missing a beat flicks CyberVid on the ear. He doesn't quite manage to dodge her return punch, but he takes the blow with dignity and continues on.

After a moment of peering around the room in mild but apparent confusion, he approaches Ogenbond. "Pardon me for my concern, but are you sure a baby is a good thing to bring into a bar?" he asks.

[Whovian Tardisia]

The sounds of footsteps and voices jar Ambassador Pink and his compatriots, some of the only remaining patrons, awake. While the Ambassador himself gives Ogenbond a bleary wave, the Atlas crew members are quite shocked as they check their watches. Captain Wilson can only manage as small gasp as she looks at Pink in horror. "Can't say I didn't warn you..." the Ambassador tuts, as if reading her mind. Looking up from the bar at Neville, Jack simply mutters: "Coffee?"

[Wallenburg]

An aging man wearing a well-tailored business suit walks into the bar, passes by the two bickering corporations, who had at some point gotten into a tangent about venture capitalism, and without missing a beat flicks CyberVid on the ear. He doesn't quite manage to dodge her return punch, but he takes the blow with dignity and continues on.

After a moment of peering around the room in mild but apparent confusion, he approaches Ogenbond. "Pardon me for my concern, but are you sure a baby is a good thing to bring into a bar?" he asks.

Ogenbond watches the man take the punch from CyberVid. When he questions Ogenbond's own behavior, the Wallenburgian smiles.

"Well, I can understand that you might not find this particularly believable, having just earned yourself a nice bruise from that young lady, but this bar is actually one of the safest places in the entire headquarters. The entire room is lined with weapons nullifiers to protect anyone inside. My own office has no such nullifiers, and is currently so hectic that I could lose this young lad under a stack of office supplies or behind a box of compliance extensions and department communiques. I'd much rather have him right here where I can see him. So would his mother, probably."

Ogenbond extends his hand to the man. "I'm Mikael Ogenbond, representing the Republics of Wallenburg. This, of course, is my son. He doesn't talk much."

[Dirty Americans]

Michelle marches into the bar, clearly in a bad mood, with a sign.

"Impeach #45," she says in a loud voice.

At the bar, John Henry face palms for a moment and turns toward her. "For the final time, General Assembly Resolution Forty--Five is a Repeal. You can't repeal repeals, damn it."

"What about #46?"

"Already repealed."

"47?"

"Ditto."

"48?"

"ibid."

"Then how are we going to become famous as a nation?"

"Have you ever thought about writing a resolution instead of repealing one?"

"Me," she replied in shock. "Community organizers do not build things up; we tear them down!"

(Somewhere in the dark corners of the mind, Resolution #50, International Salvage Laws sighed and drank a shot in honor of the fact that she didn't go two numbers further. His life as a resolution was assured at least for the time being.)

[Living Corporations]

Ogenbond watches the man take the punch from CyberVid. When he questions Ogenbond's own behavior, the Wallenburgian smiles.

"Well, I can understand that you might not find this particularly believable, having just earned yourself a nice bruise from that young lady, but this bar is actually one of the safest places in the entire headquarters. The entire room is lined with weapons nullifiers to protect anyone inside. My own office has no such nullifiers, and is currently so hectic that I could lose this young lad under a stack of office supplies or behind a box of compliance extensions and department communiques. I'd much rather have him right here where I can see him. So would his mother, probably."

Ogenbond extends his hand to the man. "I'm Mikael Ogenbond, representing the Republics of Wallenburg. This, of course, is my son. He doesn't talk much."

“I’m Roth,” says the man as he shakes the offered hand. “Formerly based in the United States of Vespuccia, currently part of a sham of a nation that only exists on paper. But I’m sure those two over there-“ He gestures at LaPointe and CyberVid, the latter of whom glares at him. “-have already told the entire room all the details about that.”

“Now, I’m glad there’s a way to keep the young lad safe. I know well enough how easy it is for babies to find trouble. Even human ones, or I should say- I beg your pardon, but I’m not actually sure what you are.”

[The United Orthodox States]

A quite clearly drunk, middle-aged white man stumbles through the doors of the bar, barely making it to a barstool. Slapping a funny looking currency onto the counter, he shouts in a southern drawl, "2 bottles of Whiskey, on the double!" As he begins to drink the whiskey, shot by shot he says, well, more shouts to himself, "This so-called 'World Congress' is rui-*burp*-ining our nations! it's high we curtail the power of this dammed congress and-" A pause, "What was I sayin again?" He remarks just before slumping to the floor, seemingly passed out.

[Wallenburg]

“I’m Roth,” says the man as he shakes the offered hand. “Formerly based in the United States of Vespuccia, currently part of a sham of a nation that only exists on paper. But I’m sure those two over there-“ He gestures at LaPointe and CyberVid, the latter of whom glares at him. “-have already told the entire room all the details about that.”

“Now, I’m glad there’s a way to keep the young lad safe. I know well enough how easy it is for babies to find trouble. Even human ones, or I should say- I beg your pardon, but I’m not actually sure what you are.”

"I see. You're one of those business people. I suppose neither of us are quite 'human', you being a corporation and myself being a...hrmm, it doesn't translate well."

Ogenbond sees the already drunk man stumble in and makes a point of not making eye contact with him. "Anyway, yes, this child is quite safe here, and won't go anywhere very quickly, seeing as he is far too young to walk."

[WA Kitty Kops]

The black half-grown cat known as the Chief Inshpekshuuner, woke up from his half-a-day-long catnap, stretched thoroughly, noticed new entertainment having entered the Bar and made a beeline for it, jumping onto the table with the breathing basket, taking a quick peek inside.

"Ohh, a humankitten! Yours?"

[Wallenburg]

The black half-grown cat known as the Chief Inshpekshuuner, woke up from his half-a-day-long catnap, stretched thoroughly, noticed new entertainment having entered the Bar and made a beeline for it, jumping onto the table with the breathing basket, taking a quick peek inside.

"Ohh, a humankitten! Yours?"

The Wallenburgian infant gurgles out a laugh, reaching his short arms in the general direction of the Chief Inshpekshuuner.

"Human-kitten? Ah, yes, indeed he is," responds Ogenbond. "He seems to like you. Curious, most children don't like cats very much."

[WA Kitty Kops]

The Wallenburgian infant gurgles out a laugh, reaching his short arms in the general direction of the Chief Inshpekshuuner.

"Human-kitten? Ah, yes, indeed he is," responds Ogenbond. "He seems to like you. Curious, most children don't like cats very much."

Chief Inshpekshuuner hopped into the basket.

OOC: A tisket, a tasket and kitten in a basket.

[Living Corporations]

"I see. You're one of those business people. I suppose neither of us are quite 'human', you being a corporation and myself being a...hrmm, it doesn't translate well."

Ogenbond sees the already drunk man stumble in and makes a point of not making eye contact with him. "Anyway, yes, this child is quite safe here, and won't go anywhere very quickly, seeing as he is far too young to walk."

“Yes, I’m one of them. The most nationally successful of the lot of the four of us, in fact, until recently,” said Roth. Only of the four of them, though. There were some computer and entertainment companies that put even the him of his heyday to shame. “May I ask, though-”

The black half-grown cat known as the Chief Inshpekshuuner, woke up from his half-a-day-long catnap, stretched thoroughly, noticed new entertainment having entered the Bar and made a beeline for it, jumping onto the table with the breathing basket, taking a quick peek inside.

"Ohh, a humankitten! Yours?"

“A talking cat?” Roth asked, slightly bemused.

Even though he no longer had a customer base to build a reputation with, the need to appear friendly and personable was still there. He reached gently out to offer the cat a hand to sniff, but stopped when the cat hopped right into the basket with the baby.

“Well, he did invite you in,” Roth said to the cat.

[Wallenburg]

Chief Inshpekshuuner hopped into the basket.

OOC: A tisket, a tasket and kitten in a basket.

Startled, Ogenbond reaches into the basket and pulls the Chief Inshpekshuuner out. "Nope. Nope. Nope. Sorry Chief, but babies are delicate."

The child pulls himself so that he is facing the cat, and reaches out again, playfully.

[Lord Dominator]

A soft roaring sound could be heard in a distance. It gradually got louder, as the source of the sound resolved into a fast-moving sports car. Eventually, is spun into the Bar parking lot, as it blew out the tires slowing down and running into the sign of a handicapped parking space, ejecting the occupant towards and into the reflecting pool.

Dee got up and dusted herself off, before wandering into the Stranger's Bar and towards the bar in question.

"Hey bartender, gimme one of your best, don't care what. I'll trade you this bottle of Moonshine I borrowed from a friend," she said, pulling out the aforementioned bottle.

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbond takes notice of the moonshine-wielding ambassador, her clothes still dripping from a recent plunge into the reflecting pool. "I didn't know Neville accepted barter. I thought his sources got him first pick from almost every brewery or distillery across the Multiverse."

[Bears Armed]

"Artorrios!" Pink exclaimed, approaching the Ursine Ambassador. "It's been too long. Busy with your new duties, I take it?" He inquired..

"Ur'rmm," murmurs this version of Artorrios, looking up from his food (although, due to the confused nature of Time here, at least one other version of him has already entered & left the bar since Pink spoke...).
"Ah, nice to meet you again. By 'new duties', I take it you mean the GenSec business? Fortunately the Mission has had some additional staff assigned to help with that side of things, since shortly after the change-over of governments back home at New Year: Our homeland's new government is led by Borrin o Redwood, who was my beforebear in this job and knows how busy it could be even without that extra aspect. Oh, and he's even managed to organise a hrrather generous increase in our Hospitality budget too. Buy you a drink?"

[Lord Dominator]

Ogenbond takes notice of the moonshine-wielding ambassador, her clothes still dripping from a recent plunge into the reflecting pool. "I didn't know Neville accepted barter. I thought his sources got him first pick from almost every brewery or distillery across the Multiverse."

"Ah, you see dear ambassador," Dee replies, slurring slightly, "my friend of sorts doesnt' really like sharing her spicale stffu as it is, and thus doels not sell it. 'course, if Neville thsere rdoesn't accept barter, 'mi sure he'll put it on my tab."

[Wallenburg]

"Interesting," comments Ogenbond, "I imagine then that he might find some value to it. At the very least, Ambassador Bell may very well wish to try going blind for a while, before the nullifiers kick in."

[Whovian Tardisia]

"Artorrios!" Pink exclaimed, approaching the Ursine Ambassador. "It's been too long. Busy with your new duties, I take it?" He inquired..

"Ur'rmm," murmurs this version of Artorrios, looking up from his food (although, due to the confused nature of Time here, at least one other version of him has already entered & left the bar since Pink spoke...).
"Ah, nice to meet you again. By 'new duties', I take it you mean the GenSec business? Fortunately the Mission has had some additional staff assigned to help with that side of things, since shortly after the change-over of governments back home at New Year: Our homeland's new government is led by Borrin o Redwood, who was my beforebear in this job and knows how busy it could be even without that extra aspect. Oh, and he's even managed to organise a hrrather generous increase in our Hospitality budget too. Buy you a drink?"

"I could never say no to that." Pink replied, beaming at the bear now standing before him. "Allow me to introduce my compatriots: Captain Wilson and First Mate Dawson of the WTC Atlas, one of the finest exploration vessels our nation has." Captain Wilson, seated to Pink's left, was somewhat surprised by her superior's nonchalance in the presence of a talking bear, but nonetheless offered her hand to shake. Dawson, meanwhile, was returning from the bar, a steaming mug in hand, and was almost unfazed as he took a seat beside her.

[Separatist Peoples]

"Interesting," comments Ogenbond, "I imagine then that he might find some value to it. At the very least, Ambassador Bell may very well wish to try going blind for a while, before the nullifiers kick in."

Bell waves unsteadily from a corner seat, jug in hand. At his feet are two empty moonshine jugs.

[Bears Armed Mission]

"I could never say no to that." Pink replied, beaming at the bear now standing before him. "Allow me to introduce my compatriots: Captain Wilson and First Mate Dawson of the WTC Atlas, one of the finest exploration vessels our nation has." Captain Wilson, seated to Pink's left, was somewhat surprised by her superior's nonchalance in the presence of a talking bear, but nonetheless offered her hand to shake. Dawson, meanwhile, was returning from the bar, a steaming mug in hand, and was almost unfazed as he took a seat beside her.

“Pleased to meet you,” Artorrios said to Captain Wilson as he shook her hand. (FYI, he’s not just “a talking bear”, he’s “a talking bear, wearing a sharp suit”; Not that Captain Wilson would recognise the source, I expect, but it’s actually an Arbeari…) “So, hr’rmm, may I ask hwhere you explore in that ship? The seas, beneath the seas, space… or might it even be a ship that sails the time-stream?” He then offers his hand for Dawson to shake, too.