The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[Wallenburg]

"Should have brought my buzzer." Riley shakes the hand loosely. "Think of me like an interpreter: I take all the mutually exclusive opinions being shouted by the States and the Triumvirate, translate it into something coherent enough to constitute a position on the issues, then unplug my phone and go to bed. So far I've been fired twice, but the truth is nobody else can do what I do. Or at least everyone else is smart enough to run away screaming when they're asked."

Riley swivels to find the source of the voice that is the Wallenburgian ambassador. "I could probably make a list, but at the moment I'm against giving it a bad name by attaching the label to the WA."

The Wallenburgian stands up and approaches Riley. Ignoring the rest of the patrons, he places one uneven foot before the next until he is almost breathing down the man's face. "How would you like to take a swim outside?"

OOC: He's not the ambassador, exactly.

[Xanthal]

OOC: My bad, it's been a few years, don't know anyone. :P

IC: "Sounds sexy, but apparently I already have a date. Rain check?"

[Greater Cesnica]

Slick, in his calm states retrieves a Five-Seven pistol from his waistband, and holds it between the two men. "No fighting in the bar. Riley, he's not worth it." he says quietly to his new-found friend.

[Wallenburg]

"I insist." The Wallenburgian grabs Riley by his collar and drags him over to the window, where he unceremoniously flips the unfortunate diplomat out into the reflecting pool.

[Neo-Routhengard]

"I insist." The Wallenburgian grabs Riley by his collar and drags him over to the window, where he unceremoniously flips the unfortunate diplomat out into the reflecting pool.

A number of heavy stomps of thick-soled boots later, and suddenly the youth was found very near to the Wallenburgian and the Xanthal diplomat, grabbing the former's hand grasping the collar of the latter, saying, "I suggest you don't do that," while tightening his hold on the arm like a vise-grip.

[Greater Cesnica]

"I insist." The Wallenburgian grabs Riley by his collar and drags him over to the window, where he unceremoniously flips the unfortunate diplomat out into the reflecting pool.

(Wtf)

OOC: I gtg. Xanthal, telegram me. Goodnight!

[Xanthal]

"I'm okay!" Riley's shout wafts in quietly from the pool through the window. A minute later he re-enters the bar, considerably wetter than before, but otherwise unharmed. He looks between his would-be defenders with a cheery grin. "Oh, please, not on my account. It's a far bigger drop from the General Assembly chamber, and that window doesn't open."

[Essu Beti]

Inan walks into the bar, followed closely behind by an older human man. “And this is the Stranger’s Bar!” she says with a broad gesture at the room. “This is where the ambassadors and similar can meet up after hours, or for that matter not meet up and just have a drink or two.”

The man only takes a moment to gawk, mostly in the direction of the Wallenburgians and the soaking-wet Riley. “Well, this is...”

“You can call it weird, that’s fine,” says Inan. To Riley, she calls, “Did you just get defenestrated?”

[Xanthal]

"What gave it away?"

[Essu Beti]

“You’re soaking wet,” Inan answers.

Her guest butts in. “I beg your pardon,” he says. “But- I’ll be honest the kinds of defenestrations I’m familiar with tend to end with injuries or worse, not just... How are you okay?”

[Xanthal]

"Well, it's hard to explain. I mean, it probably would be hard to explain if I understood it. Here, let me just show you." Riley grabs a knife from the bar and closes the distance between them, plunging it into the man's chest. Except suddenly it's not a knife, it's a boater hat. "Ooh, that's actually kind of nice. You mind?"

Riley puts on his new accessory and heads over to look at himself in one of the mirrors behind the bar.

[Neo-Routhengard]

“You’re soaking wet,” Inan answers.

Her guest butts in. “I beg your pardon,” he says. “But- I’ll be honest the kinds of defenestrations I’m familiar with tend to end with injuries or worse, not just... How are you okay?”

"Well presumably he landed this time on water, that's why he did not get wet," the youth replied, releasing the grip on the Wallenburgian. "But the incident before, I really wonder how he did survive. Was it due to heaven's intervention, or due to him being landed on a pile of manure, I really wonder."

[Essu Beti]

"Well, it's hard to explain. I mean, it probably would be hard to explain if I understood it. Here, let me just show you." Riley grabs a knife from the bar and closes the distance between them, plunging it into the man's chest. Except suddenly it's not a knife, it's a boater hat. "Ooh, that's actually kind of nice. You mind?"

Riley puts on his new accessory and heads over to look at himself in one of the mirrors behind the bar.

The man reacts in the appropriate manner to a stranger running at him with a knife. That is, he puts a table between himself and the other man and draws a knife of his own. Except, his own knife appears to have, at some point, been turned into rubber. “What is wrong with this place?” he asks no one in particular, not seeming to care about the loss of the boater hat.

“Not the latter, certainly,” Inan says in an aside to the newcomer. “The divine don’t meddle in the affairs of mortals.”

[Xanthal]

"I guess this is yours, technically." Riley hands the hat over to Neville somewhat reluctantly, then turns back to the others. "If I had to put it in a nutshell, hanging around the World Assembly has a tendency to make one a little crazy, so this is a place where we can take our madness in small doses, the alternative being to let it build up until one day we snap and spend the rest of our lives as gibbering lunatics. ...Come to think of it, that may have already happened to several of our counterparts."

"Anyway," he steps forward again, though less threateningly this time. "Riley Fluffer. Representative of the Federated Democratic States of Xanthal and Agent of the Delegacy of SPACE. At your service."

[Essu Beti]

“Inrahadna Madin,” says the man, offering a hand to shake. “Former crook, currently the financial advisor to President Kulkarni of Essu Beti. And I’m sure you’ve met...”

“Inan Aranis, acting ambassador until Ambassador Gayan returns,” says Inan.

“This is my first time on this side of the portal,” explains Inrahadna. “It’s very... unusual here.”

[Xanthal]

"Financial adviser? I thought you said former crook." Riley does what one does with a proffered hand, offering a polite nod to the ambassador. "Honestly, as the multiverse goes this place isn't that strange. It's the people. This is what happens when you dump a few thousand people from everywhere into one place- different nations, different cultures, different values, different styles, different species, different timelines, different laws of physics... no common context you see. It's like Donald Trump's America. Whoops, fourth wall there, watch out for that."

[Essu Beti]

"Financial adviser? I thought you said former crook." Riley does what one does with a proffered hand, offering a polite nod to the ambassador. "Honestly, as the multiverse goes this place isn't that strange. It's the people. This is what happens when you dump a few thousand people from everywhere into one place- different nations, different cultures, different values, different styles, different species, different timelines, different laws of physics... no common context you see. It's like Donald Trump's America. Whoops, fourth wall there, watch out for that."

Both Inan and Inrahadna simultaneously tilt their heads to the side in confusion at that last comment. “I don’t get it,” says Inan.

“A reference to his nation’s politics?” asks Inrahadna to himself. Louder, he says, “Well, there’s also the things turning into different things- will my knife turn back into steel when I leave, by the way?- the apparent defenestration that ended in you getting wet instead of either splatting against the ground or landing badly in a pond and drowning, and-” He gestures over at a viewscreen showing the capital punishment debate. “That debacle there.”

[Xanthal]

"I'm sure your knife will be fine if you want it to be. We all kind of create our own reality here." He takes a drink of his whiskey. "You should have a drink. It helps."

[Essu Beti]

"I'm sure your knife will be fine if you want it to be. We all kind of create our own reality here." He takes a drink of his whiskey. "You should have a drink. It helps."

“I don’t drink alcohol,” says Inrahadna. “I greatly prefer coffee.”

“The last time he got drunk, he joined a crowd throwing rocks at police,” Inan explains. “He only avoided arrest by jumping onto a passing train.”

Inrahadna lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Ah, I see the “embarrass your husband” portion of the night has begun.”

[Xanthal]

"Coffee is fine. Just watch yourself around the tea." Riley retakes his seat, inviting them to sit nearby with a sweep of his hand. "So what brings you here? Is it Bring Your Spouse To Work Day or did I just make that up?"

[Essu Beti]

((OOC: Time for me to sleep))

“Pretty sure you just made that up,” says Inrahadna, taking a seat. Inan stayed behind to order coffees. “I’m here because as a government employee, it makes sense that I’d want to see how our diplomatic office is doing. And I wanted to make sure Inan was doing well. Our marriage may be a sham but I do still care about her, in a decidely platonic way.”

[Xanthal]

"Hmm. Well, when it comes to dollars and sense- see what I did there?- the WA is basically a living nightmare. A criminal background might be useful, though. My own government prefers not to know any more about how the sausage gets made than it has to. Can't say I blame them." He tilts his head sideways towards the viewscreen.

[Wallenburg]

The Wallenburgian, content with his work, stumbles back to the bar and begins to order another drink. A large hand places itself over his own as he reaches for the glass.

"Well, I never expected to see you back here, Mr. Foudman," says Gerald, towering behind the inebriated Wallenburgian. "You would not happen to be paying for your own drinks, would you?"

The Wallenburgian jumps at Gerald's unexpected appearance before returning to his irritable manner. "Hey, go harass someone else. I'm a state diplomat here on official business."

"Oh, certainly. I have some more official business for you. You are needed in the treasurer's office, to discuss matters relating to our delegation's finances. Come with me."

Gerald lifts the man off the ground and makes for the exit. Foudman slaps and pounds his fist against Gerald's back, protesting all the way. "I'll throw you out of the reflecting pool too! I'll show you, ya ugly Indevian bastard!"

[Lord Dominator]

"If your government is paying for your drinks, can you see if they're hiring?"

"Fah! If they're paying for my drinks, it's because they don't want me coming back and is probably why I don't get raises or benefits."

Inan walks into the bar, followed closely behind by an older human man. “And this is the Stranger’s Bar!” she says with a broad gesture at the room. “This is where the ambassadors and similar can meet up after hours, or for that matter not meet up and just have a drink or two.”

"And during hours, before hours, negative hours..."

[Separatist Peoples]

OOC: I was asleep through this exchange, so lemme find a way to catch up.

"My friend, you need to chill. Everyone around here is going to try to push your buttons; if you let them you're bound for an early grave, either from high blood pressure or suicide. I've seen it happen."

"I take Zoloft... Self-prescribed," he admits, chuckling slightly. His mood is in a slightly better state. "I have an apology to make to Bell. And, if you were involved in the World Assembly fiascos that my nation created last year... You too." he states, smiling softly.

Bell, still gulping liquor, holds up a finger in pause.

"Hey, what do you have against direct democracy?" asks the Wallenburgian, taking his attention away from Ambassador Dee.

McCooley now watches on as the two ambassadors prepare to exchange rhetoric. In the meanwhile. he waits for Ambassador Bell to respond to Riley and him.

Bell, still gulping liquor, keeps up a finger in pause.

"Should have brought my buzzer." Riley shakes the hand loosely. "Think of me like an interpreter: I take all the mutually exclusive opinions being shouted by the States and the Triumvirate, translate it into something coherent enough to constitute a position on the issues, then unplug my phone and go to bed. So far I've been fired twice, but the truth is nobody else can do what I do. Or at least everyone else is smart enough to run away screaming when they're asked."

Riley swivels to find the source of the voice that is the Wallenburgian ambassador. "I could probably make a list, but at the moment I'm against giving it a bad name by attaching the label to the WA."

McCooley decides by this point that he wants to talk to Riley more. "Say... Bell seems to be in a bit of a trance right now. Wanna talk by the balcony? I just need someone to talk to. Here, I'll leave him a note." with that, Bell reaches into his pocket for a notepad and pen, and rips out a sticky note. He simply writes in his distinct scrawl 'meet at balcony', and tacks it to the table in front of Bell.

Bell, nearing the end of the bottle, reads the note, rolls his eyes, and holds up a finger in pause, gesturing a little more forcefully.

Finally, the bottle gives out. "Whew. I suspect that was mezcal. Sorry, Neville, I know it isn't cheap, but that's what you get when you stock kanar and strategically place it in the only row within my reach."

Bell gives the still full bottle of kanar a shove, letting the bottle of alcoholic fish oil slide towards the barkeep.

"Now," he says, turning to Slick, "Whats all this about a balcony? Is Helen going to stand below with a boombox blasting old love songs, or are you just setting Steph up with a clear line of fire to my ass with that rocket pistol of hers?"