The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[Whovian Tardisia]

“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.

Dawson smiled as he shook the hand presented. "I'm not sure I'm at liberty to say..." he responded, giving his Captain a look. "You're clear, Dawson. Knowing Rupert, half the people in this building know by now." she answered, taking a sip from the long forgotten drink still in front of her. Dawson grinned, and continued. "Mostly space. The vortex is only for the sake of efficiency."

[Wallenburg]

Gerald enters the bar, carrying a stack of newspapers. "Good afternoon, Mr. Ogenbond. Paper?"

Ogenbond grunts, his attention already divided between the baby and a drunk Dee. "What's the headline today? More isolation business from the Nationals?"

"Not quite sir. I think this headline will please you." Gerald sets one of the papers in front of Ogenbond. "Hello, little one. Enjoying the bar? I wonder if Neville has formula."

"He's not hungry right now," says Ogenbond dismissively. He looks down at the paper and scans the headlines carefully. "'Committee Releases Execution Bill, Vote on Repeals Tomorrow'. Well, I'll be damned!" He smiles at Gerald, eyes bright with enthusiasm. "They're going to give Hugski the revolutionary treatment?"

"It would seem that is the plan, sir. Please, curb your enthusiasm in front of the child. It's not appropriate."

Ogenbond laughs. "Gerald, if he could understand anything we are saying, I'd be making for a real role model. He should know what happens to people who massacre innocent civilians. The rest of those criminals might have gotten a simple bullet to the head, but at least Hugski gets what imperialists deserve. Justice is patient, if nothing else."

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbond has the nearest television switched to a Neoswedish news broadcast. A grainy, oversaturated color image comes on the screen.

"Thank you Neville. Gerald, have you ever seen one of these?" asks Ogenbond.

Gerald grimaces. "Yes, in person. The smell was horrible. You will excuse me if I return to the office."

Ogenbond waves him off. A reporter rambles off on Wallenburgian current events in their airy native accent. The universal translators automatically convert the messages into the languages of the bar's patrons.

"...after a narrow victory over the liberal coalition. The bill now goes to the Councillors for review. It is expected to go into law with no further controversy. We now go to news here in the socialist state of east Wallenburg. Five days earlier, the Proletarians introduced a bill to remove restrictions on execution for foreign nationals tried in Wallenburgian courts. It passed in an expedited vote nine hours before Judge Nosgold sentenced the Wallenburgian war criminal Peyter Hugski to death. Behind me now is the public platform erected for the execution."

The reporter continues as the screen cuts to footage of the platform. A very long wooden log, about 10 meters long, is attached to ropes and pulleys. An axe is embedded in one end of the log. Two men go about dousing the log in a liquid as a third man forces Hugski onto the platform. Guards force him to lie down on the log, to which he is tied.

"The Wallenburgians call this practice 'illumination', referring to the popular socialist illuminaire. Last used in 1922, it had been prohibited for its cruel nature under the leadership of Majority Leader Ulysses Kant. Keegan, who has announced her intention not to run for office in 1943, insists that her party has no intention to challenge Wallenburgian constitutional protections against execution of citizens."

Pulleys begin turning, and the log begins to rise from the ground, one end turning to the sky while the other plants itself firmly in the middle of the platform. The ropes go slack once the log is fully upright. Hugski can be seen squirming in his restraints at the top of the log.

"A Wallenburgian captain comes onto the platform. He announces to the public the identity of the man to be executed, and the crimes for which he has been convicted. There he is, being handed the ceremonial torch. It is touched to the base of the pillar, and, as you can see, the log erupts into flames. These executions were slower in the years of the Wallenburgian revolution, when highly combustible chemicals and oils were either unavailable or in use on the battlefield. As you can see, the fire travels quickly."

Ogenbond claps, satisfied with the broadcast. "Very well done. Hah, look at him, still trying to escape! Haha! Ah, Neville, perhaps a drink is in order? Just one, to celebrate the occasion."

[Whovian Tardisia]

The shattering of glass can be heard as the applause trails off. Ambassador Pink sits empty handed, his jaw slack at the display. Without a word, he gets up and enters the Police Box directly under the screen, the door slamming behind him. His compatriots jolt at the sound, clearly not expecting it. Dawson turns to his captain, taking a sip of his coffee. "Any idea what that was about?" he asks, his voice much lower than usual. Captain Wilson merely moves her head in the direction of the television. As if on cue, the Ambassador reemerged, gingerly carrying a typewriter with a piece of government letterhead paper resting on the keyboard. He returns to his seat, inserting the paper into the machine, and begins clacking away at the slightly dusty keys, still without verbal comment.

Whovian Tardisia will remember that.
I was seriously not expecting something like that from Wallenburg. You've opened a brilliant can of worms to play with. I look forward to it.

[Bears Armed]

Another of the Bears — Hrrafe Redsmith, who is an ‘Apprentice Voice’ [I.e. a trainee diplomat] * — had entered the room a few minutes earlier, and had been engaged in a quiet but intense-looking conversation at the Bar with the place’s chef Dazza. The latter now throws up his hands in “On your head be it” gesture, and heads back into the kitchen. Hrrafe comes over to speak with Artorrios.

“You know how Dazza boasts of his ‘Australian fusion’cuisine,” he remarks. “Hwell, I’ve just talked him into attempting what one might call an ‘Ursine-Glaswegian fusion’ rrecipe…”

“Oh?” replies Artorrios, in a doubtful tone. “And hwhat would that be: Not deep-fried porridge, I hope?”

“No, chief,” Hrrafe answers him. “It’s deep-fried marmalade sandwiches!”

“Urrgah! Well, you try them, and then let me know how they turn out… and don’t call me ‘chief’!”

“Hokay, ch… Sir,” Hrrafe says, and then wanders across to the juke box while waiting for the promised dish to be ready. He is delighted to find that the machine’s available selection includes a song that — perhaps because of its emphasis on sweetness — is one of his favourite human-performed works. He takes a seat as the sound of the The Archies begins to fill the air…

”Sugar
Ah, honey, honey
You are my candy girl
And you got me wanting you

Honey
Ah, sugar, sugar
You are my candy girl
And you got me wanting you

I just can't believe
The loveliness of loving you
I just can't believe its true

I just can't believe
The wonder of this feeling, too
I just can't believe its true”

(* OOC: This is his first appearance.)

[Linux and the X]

*Chaleset walks up to the bar, grabs the Aviation that seemingly spontaneously materialised, and downs it.*

[Wallenburg]

*Chaleset walks up to the bar, grabs the Aviation that seemingly spontaneously materialised, and downs it.*

"Ooh, that was cool! Do it again!" Ogenbond smiles amusedly.

[Skylus]

I'm still alive.

Madison Goodwill walked into the WA Bar after a few months of absence.
Not a lot of things had happened, not many laws were being passed at the moment.
Fortunately, no wars were going on at the moment, which was good.

Madi walked up to the bar and ordered a pint of Firewhiskey.
She then walked over to the others and took a seat near Pink.
"So. How's life?"

[Whovian Tardisia]

I'm still alive.

Madison Goodwill walked into the WA Bar after a few months of absence.
Not a lot of things had happened, not many laws were being passed at the moment.
Fortunately, no wars were going on at the moment, which was good.

Madi walked up to the bar and ordered a pint of Firewhiskey.
She then walked over to the others and took a seat near Pink.
"So. How's life?"

Pink gave a quick nod to the witch, acknowledging her presence, but continued tapping away at the old typewriter. It made a cheery ding at each press of the return key, a sound that did not match the Ambassador's expression.

"Not well, it would seem," the woman next to him piped up, unnerved by the silence. "Captain Amy Wilson, WTC Atlas," she began, extending a hand, "and this is my First Mate, Jack Dawson." she added, gesturing to the gentleman on her right.

[Sierra Lyricalia]

Ogenbond claps, satisfied with the broadcast. "Very well done. Hah, look at him, still trying to escape! Haha! Ah, Neville, perhaps a drink is in order? Just one, to celebrate the occasion."

Steph misses Ogenbond's celebration as, raptly attentive to the screen, she orders a giant glass of kolsch lager and a warm paper bag of freshly-roasted peanuts. She takes a sip and begins cracking a nut open, and says to Ogenbond, "Hey, I like this director already. The 'news story' gimmick just grabs ya right away, huh? Although frankly it's starting to drag on a little. When are we gonna meet the hero and her strapping yet somehow helpless boyfriend? Ooh, a triple!"

She munches the three small nuts that have just been dumped from their shell and says, "What'd you say this movie was called?"

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbond claps, satisfied with the broadcast. "Very well done. Hah, look at him, still trying to escape! Haha! Ah, Neville, perhaps a drink is in order? Just one, to celebrate the occasion."

Steph misses Ogenbond's celebration as, raptly attentive to the screen, she orders a giant glass of kolsch lager and a warm paper bag of freshly-roasted peanuts. She takes a sip and begins cracking a nut open, and says to Ogenbond, "Hey, I like this director already. The 'news story' gimmick just grabs ya right away, huh? Although frankly it's starting to drag on a little. When are we gonna meet the hero and her strapping yet somehow helpless boyfriend? Ooh, a triple!"

She munches the three small nuts that have just been dumped from their shell and says, "What'd you say this movie was called?"

"Movie?" asks Ogenbond. "Movies are viewed in theaters. No, I'm afraid you misunderstand. This is a Neoswedish news broadcast. They are on their international news hour. You see? The next story is on the mudslides in the Minan highlands. Poor people. Their own government won't even help them."

Ogenbond notices the nuts but, although perplexed at the ambassador's choice of meal, shrugs and goes back to his own meal. "As I understand, they are sending in a couple dozen men to clear a passageway out of the crisis area and rescue trapped inhabitants."

[Sierra Lyricalia]

Steph misses Ogenbond's celebration as, raptly attentive to the screen, she orders a giant glass of kolsch lager and a warm paper bag of freshly-roasted peanuts. She takes a sip and begins cracking a nut open, and says to Ogenbond, "Hey, I like this director already. The 'news story' gimmick just grabs ya right away, huh? Although frankly it's starting to drag on a little. When are we gonna meet the hero and her strapping yet somehow helpless boyfriend? Ooh, a triple!"

She munches the three small nuts that have just been dumped from their shell and says, "What'd you say this movie was called?"

"Movie?" asks Ogenbond. "Movies are viewed in theaters. No, I'm afraid you misunderstand. This is a Neoswedish news broadcast. They are on their international news hour. You see? The next story is on the mudslides in the Minan highlands. Poor people. Their own government won't even help them."

Ogenbond notices the nuts but, although perplexed at the ambassador's choice of meal, shrugs and goes back to his own meal. "As I understand, they are sending in a couple dozen men to clear a passageway out of the crisis area and rescue trapped inhabitants."

Steph drops the next peanut on the bartop, only half-cracked. She scowls and doesn't seem to know what to do with her hands.

"So that Wallenburgian news story... was coverage of a live public execution by way of burning someone alive?!? Ambassador, I really need you to tell me that you're fucking with me. And I really need you to do it right now."

[Skylus]

Madi did a double take as she overheard Steph and Ogenbond's conversation.

"Wait, they burned someone alive?!"

[Lord Dominator]

Madi did a double take as she overheard Steph and Ogenbond's conversation.

"Wait, they burned someone alive?!"

"Seems so. Isn't it glorious? Reminds me of the good 'ol days. Ahhh"
Dee responds, looking a bit amused at Madi's and Steph's shocked expressions, before being lost in reminiscence.

[Imperium Anglorum]

ELISE MORTIMER WELLESLEY: Who would support a 'humanitarian mission' to Wallenburg?

[Wallenburg]

"So that Wallenburgian news story... was coverage of a live public execution by way of burning someone alive?!? Ambassador, I really need you to tell me that you're fucking with me. And I really need you to do it right now."

"All I'm doing is enjoying my lunch and watching the news. But yes, that's what the Arabus Broadcasting Service just televised."

"Seems so. Isn't it glorious? Reminds me of the good 'ol days. Ahhh"
Dee responds, looking a bit amused at Madi's and Steph's shocked expressions, before being lost in reminiscence.

Ogenbond slaps the table in agreement. "I could not have said it better myself. I was too young to see the executions in the early years of the Republic, but I am thrilled to have that opportunity now."

ELISE MORTIMER WELLESLEY: Who would support a 'humanitarian mission' to Wallenburg?

"Madam Ambassador, I am unaware of any populations requiring humanitarian aid in Wallenburg. After all, it is peacetime. Are you referring to relief against organized crime?"

[Imperium Anglorum]

"Madam Ambassador, I am unaware of any populations requiring humanitarian aid in Wallenburg. After all, it is peacetime. Are you referring to relief against organized crime?"

ELSIE MORTIMER WELLESLEY: Nobody supports a humanitarian intervention? I guess we can cross that one off the list then, because apparently intervention isn't a thing that anybody actually wants to do independently. It's like expecting Europe to just go on a Crusade without anyone calling for one.

[Sierra Lyricalia]

"So that Wallenburgian news story... was coverage of a live public execution by way of burning someone alive?!? Ambassador, I really need you to tell me that you're fucking with me. And I really need you to do it right now."

"All I'm doing is enjoying my lunch and watching the news. But yes, that's what the Arabus Broadcasting Service just televised."

"Seems so. Isn't it glorious? Reminds me of the good 'ol days. Ahhh"
Dee responds, looking a bit amused at Madi's and Steph's shocked expressions, before being lost in reminiscence.

Ogenbond slaps the table in agreement. "I could not have said it better myself. I was too young to see the executions in the early years of the Republic, but I am thrilled to have that opportunity now."

"Executing someone who is truly beyond all possible rehabilitation is one thing. Glorying in burning a person alive is beyond the pale. You're basically some real estate and a dominatrix shy of torturing the guy to death in a dungeon. What was he convicted of? Witchcraft?"

Steph's withering glare moves around slightly, then fixes on her almost untouched beer... which she promptly returns to the bartop. "I'm not thirsty anymore."

ELSIE MORTIMER WELLESLEY: Nobody supports a humanitarian intervention? I guess we can cross that one off the list then, because apparently intervention isn't a thing that anybody actually wants to do independently. It's like expecting Europe to just go on a Crusade without anyone calling for one.

"I'm not one for crusades, Ambassador, but against the freakin' Spanglish Inquizzitation over here I think even my government would be down for a good old-fashioned imperialist cybernetic-man's-burden civilizing mission. Let's roll."

Despite the largely rhetorical nature of her speech, that of a diplomat among diplomats, Steph actually does leave the bar at this point, having reports to file and phone calls to make.

[Imperium Anglorum]

ELSIE MORTIMER WELLESLEY: Nobody supports a humanitarian intervention? I guess we can cross that one off the list then, because apparently intervention isn't a thing that anybody actually wants to do independently. It's like expecting Europe to just go on a Crusade without anyone calling for one.

"I'm not one for crusades, Ambassador, but against the freakin' Spanglish Inquizzitation over here I think even my government would be down for a good old-fashioned imperialist cybernetic-man's-burden civilizing mission. Let's roll."

ELSIE MORTIMER WELLESLEY: Excellent. I'll have my War Secretary talk with your War Secretary.

[Wallenburg]

"Executing someone who is truly beyond all possible rehabilitation is one thing. Glorying in burning a person alive is beyond the pale. You're basically some real estate and a dominatrix shy of torturing the guy to death in a dungeon. What was he convicted of? Witchcraft?"

"Witchcraft?" asks Ogenbond, his lips turned up in a controlled smile as he tries not to laugh. "Very good, Ambassador Zakalwe. I believe the charges were 45 counts of murder, conspiracy to commit genocide, use of civilians as human shields, and treason against the Wallenburgian people. Really he deserved it, and while I recognize that the Neoswedes only broadcasted it to further their liberal, anti-Wallenburgian agenda, I appreciate the opportunity to watch nonetheless. It's good to know justice has reached him."

"I'm not one for crusades, Ambassador, but against the freakin' Spanglish Inquizzitation over here I think even my government would be down for a good old-fashioned imperialist cybernetic-man's-burden civilizing mission. Let's roll."

Ogenbond's smile dissolves. "I'm not sure I quite understand what you just said, but I don't like the sound of it. The East Wallenburgian Cabinet of War and the Joint Committee of War and International Relations will be in touch with your office quite soon."

[Whovian Tardisia]

"I'm not one for crusades, Ambassador, but against the freakin' Spanglish Inquizzitation over here I think even my government would be down for a good old-fashioned imperialist cybernetic-man's-burden civilizing mission. Let's roll."

"I'm inclined to agree." Ambassador Pink muttered, finally breaking his silence as the typewriter emits a final ding. Carefully removing the stationary, he stood. "My superiors, I'm not so sure about." He added, strolling back towards the box. "Won't be a moment." He called out, closing the door behind him. Within seconds, the box began its wheezing and faded into nothing.

His compatriots sat dumbfounded. The only sound was a quiet slurp as Dawson had another sip of coffee. Captain Wilson pulled two small devices from her pocket, sliding one over her ear and holding the other like a microphone. "Osgood, report. Get the Atlas shipshape. I'll be down momentarily to assist." She handed the devices over to Dawson and whispered something. He nodded, and they both got up and left, one heading down the stairs, the other heading up.

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbond, his face stony and suspecting, pushes away from the table and stands up. He rests his hand on the child's head, then makes for the center of the bar. Through the thin crowd of patrons he spots Trevanyika.

"Helen!" he calls out, drawing her attention. He brings himself right next to her and rests his head next to her ear. A brief whisper passes from his mouth to her. Trevanyika nods, downs the rest of her drink, and makes for the exit, stopping only to collect Ogenbond's child on her way out. Ogenbond follows closely behind her.

[Xanthal]

Riley Fluffer walks in and sits down at the bar. "Whiskey for me and whatever Ambassador Bell wants on my tab."

[Separatist Peoples]

Riley Fluffer walks in and sits down at the bar. "Whiskey for me and whatever Ambassador Bell wants on my tab."

Bell walks up to the Bar and leans over, observing the display of bottles. I'll take a glass of...this one." He leans over and grabs a bottle off the wall, cracks it open, and takes a long swig from the neck.

"What the hell did I pick?" he wheezes, looking at the label. "Cardassian Kanar? Bloody hell."

[Xanthal]

"I heard that's just corn syrup." Riley enjoys a drink from his own glass.