The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[Alqania]

Lord Raekevik and Princess Christine entered the bar together. They were both wearing formal robes in the traditional Alqanian fashion and to anyone familiar with Alqanian Court protocol, their choices of colour spoke volumes and could not be coincidental. The fact that Lord Raekevik was wearing Chancery red rather than the Noble blue he would wear in his capacity as Marquess was a signal of respect towards Her Majesty the Queen, an indication that he was first and foremost Her Majesty's Ambassador and that that was the capacity in which he was present at WAHQ. Au contraire, Princess Christine's choice of Royal purple would clearly be construed as Christine exercising the princely privilege of expressing discrete defiance towards her aunt The Queen, an indication that she was first and foremost a Princess - indeed, according to the Alqanian Royal mythos and the native faiths, she had been a Princess through all time before her birth and would continue to be a Princess through all time after her death; the position as Her Majesty's Deputy Ambassador was clearly of a less permanent nature and the choice of colour an indication of the Princess' stance that it was a position not significant enough to warrant a wardrobe change.

The entire Alqanian Delegation had been on holiday throughout the Midwinter Season and its offices closed. Nobody had been around to hear that the Soviet Canuckistani Ambassador wanted to give the Princess a collection of beauty products, which was probably just as well, seeing as such a gift would be regarded as a crude insult. Though perhaps nobody would have been shocked to learn that such an insult would be delivered by a person who had previously assaulted the Princess and threatened to kill her and eat her fingers.

Most of the patrons seemed to have been replaced by newcomers since Lord Raekevik had been summoned to Court, which here in the bar seemed an eternity ago. But up by the bar there was at last a familiar face.

"Ah, no matter how much this place has changed, it is nice to see Your Excellency is still here", Lord Raekevik said in an amicable tone to the good old Ambassador.

"Neville, I hope you have not been working throughout the entire festive season", Princess Christine said as her eyes met the BarLord's. "Could we have two Mojitos, please?"

[Astro-Malsitari WA Seat]

Despite the familiar face being left ambiguous, it would be safe to say that it was not Giovanni.
Why?
Well, this was not evident until a ceiling tile popped out and fell to the floor and Dr. Romero rappelled down on a rope, landing on his barstool.
Or rather, what had been his barstool until it had mysteriously transformed into a rocking horse a few nights ago. He said, "One rum, Neville, if you please. I've just had a lovely time exploring the ventilation ducts, and it's left me quite thirsty."

He noticed the Alqanian delegation and, despite not being the ambiguous familiar face, called out, "Hello there, your Highness and, uh... I don't remember the correct way to address you, so I'll just say your Marquessitude. Good to see December hasn't caused Alqania to disappear too."

[Black Marne]

Weebam-Na went to the bar. "One whiskey, Neville. I need to clear my head. Much has seemed to change. Where is the ambassador of Connopolis? Dizyntk?"

Dr. Forshaw is still haunting these halls, but it appears the entire Dizyntk nation fell into a massive black hole.

"Um. Excuse me?"

[Ardchoille]

"Neville, I hope you have not been working throughout the entire festive season", Princess Christine said as her eyes met the BarLord's. "Could we have two Mojitos, please?"

Smitten all over again -- it simply wasn't fair that women were allowed to have eyes like that -- Neville fussed with the sugar and the lime, his back turned while he fought his usual battle in the presence of attractive but unattainable females. Imagine you're facing a large shiny axe on the green, he told himself. It was probably lese-majeste or something to even think that sort of thing about nubile princesses.

"No, I didn't work, I partied," he finally answered, delivering the cocktails with outwardly undisturbed flair. "Partied in the Bar, of course -- that's where all the cool people were. Uh, when they weren't away on holidays, naturally," he added, stumbling over the implication that the Princess wasn't cool.

Fortunately, years of pious and disciplined pursuit of Unchastity had taught Neville how to deal with such situations: think of something else. The haircut! Yes, that'd do. He'd made an appointment -- no sense in getting in the way while David and Bruce were still setting up. The trouble was, hair was hair. It either flopped in your eyes, or it didn't. It was clean, or it wasn't. You combed it, or you didn't. End of story. But hair stylists always asked how you wanted it, when the answer was obvious: you wanted it cut. Short enough so you wouldn't have to come back and pay their exorbitant fees again next month, but long enough so you wouldn't look like some neo-Nazi thug.

Sighing, but at least fully distracted, Neville roped in Jimmy and went down to the courtyard to deal with the deliveries.

[Alqania]

Despite the familiar face being left ambiguous, it would be safe to say that it was not Giovanni.
Why?
Well, this was not evident until a ceiling tile popped out and fell to the floor and Dr. Romero rappelled down on a rope, landing on his barstool.
Or rather, what had been his barstool until it had mysteriously transformed into a rocking horse a few nights ago. He said, "One rum, Neville, if you please. I've just had a lovely time exploring the ventilation ducts, and it's left me quite thirsty."

He noticed the Alqanian delegation and, despite not being the ambiguous familiar face, called out, "Hello there, your Highness and, uh... I don't remember the correct way to address you, so I'll just say your Marquessitude. Good to see December hasn't caused Alqania to disappear too."

"How very creative", Lord Raekevik chuckled. "It is usually Your Lordship, Lord Raekevik, Marquess, Ambassador or Your Excellency. Tell me, Doctor, have you went through a change in personality? You seem more... care-free than before. Of course I mean that in the most positive way possible."

[Sovreignry]

Dr. Forshaw is still haunting these halls, but it appears the entire Dizyntk nation fell into a massive black hole.

"Um. Excuse me?"

Connopolis still maintains a presence here. In fact one of their proposals was just passed recently, but the Sovreignry Astronomical Society has reported in their most recent reports that they cannot locate any of the known Dizyntk planets in their telescopes. I added the black hole part.

[Astro-Malsitari WA Seat]

Despite the familiar face being left ambiguous, it would be safe to say that it was not Giovanni.
Why?
Well, this was not evident until a ceiling tile popped out and fell to the floor and Dr. Romero rappelled down on a rope, landing on his barstool.
Or rather, what had been his barstool until it had mysteriously transformed into a rocking horse a few nights ago. He said, "One rum, Neville, if you please. I've just had a lovely time exploring the ventilation ducts, and it's left me quite thirsty."

He noticed the Alqanian delegation and, despite not being the ambiguous familiar face, called out, "Hello there, your Highness and, uh... I don't remember the correct way to address you, so I'll just say your Marquessitude. Good to see December hasn't caused Alqania to disappear too."

"How very creative", Lord Raekevik chuckled. "It is usually Your Lordship, Lord Raekevik, Marquess, Ambassador or Your Excellency. Tell me, Doctor, have you went through a change in personality? You seem more... care-free than before. Of course I mean that in the most positive way possible."

Giovanni laughed and said, "Not that I'm aware of. Then again, I did just recently sign up for skydiving classes."

"Um. Excuse me?"

Connopolis still maintains a presence here. In fact one of their proposals was just passed recently, but the Sovreignry Astronomical Society has reported in their most recent reports that they cannot locate any of the known Dizyntk planets in their telescopes. I added the black hole part.

Giovanni assumed a distinctly more grim demeanor. He sipped the rum which we can assume he'd now gotten.
"Just because you can't find them doesn't mean they're gone. We can't think like that."

[Sovreignry]

Connopolis still maintains a presence here. In fact one of their proposals was just passed recently, but the Sovreignry Astronomical Society has reported in their most recent reports that they cannot locate any of the known Dizyntk planets in their telescopes. I added the black hole part.

Giovanni assumed a distinctly more grim demeanor. He sipped the rum which we can assume he'd now gotten.
"Just because you can't find them doesn't mean they're gone. We can't think like that."

I'm just reporting the facts that have been given to me. It's not like we've seen Princess Feysalia around.

[Hittanryan]

The impact of Ortega's proclamation was mediated by the sudden meeting of a boot and his backside. Not missing a beat, the Inquisitor swept his leg behind him, tripping the bargoer who thought it would be funny to oblige the "KICK ME" sign on his back.

"Consider that a 'sign' that it's time for you to leave, Inquisitor. Like I said, the Imperium is not a member of the WA, and since one of the official policies of the Inquisition is 'no more fun of any kind,' I don't think it is proper for you to be in a place like this," Friedman replied, stifling a chuckle at someone having the audacity to plant his boot squarely somewhere between the colon and small intestine of a high-ranking Inquisitor. As an afterthought, Friedman added "I must admit though, that I didn't expect the Imperial Inquisition." He went to walk back to the bar, but hesitated. "Someone keep Cardinal Ximenez here from touching the jukebox again."

[The Tomb Keepers]

A small, puple skinned female slipped into the bar, and sat watching the rest of the patrons.

[Alqania]

Giovanni assumed a distinctly more grim demeanor. He sipped the rum which we can assume he'd now gotten.
"Just because you can't find them doesn't mean they're gone. We can't think like that."

I'm just reporting the facts that have been given to me. It's not like we've seen Princess Feysalia around.

"The Chancery is still in contact with the Alqanian Embassy on Dizyn and the Consulate General on Sapphire, so the planets themselves cannot have gone anywhere", Lord Raekevik concluded. "Regrettably I must admit however that neither our diplomatic missions nor Her Majesty's Government itself has been successful in resuming contact with the Imperium. I am afraid it looks like there is no Dizyntk Government at the moment, at least not any Government that is in contact with the outside world. If the situation continues, I am afraid Her Majesty will need to recall our diplomats as it seems there is no state to which they can be accredited."

[Connopolis]

"Um. Excuse me?"

Connopolis still maintains a presence here. In fact one of their proposals was just passed recently, but the Sovreignry Astronomical Society has reported in their most recent reports that they cannot locate any of the known Dizyntk planets in their telescopes. I added the black hole part.

Dr. Forshaw marched into the bar, intent on drinking away his troubles - what these troubles were, he was unsure of, although it was certainly quite the excuse to drink superfluously. However, this instance was not any ordinary trip to the bar - the ancient envoy noted two particular ambassadors, in which he assumed were abducted by an agent of the Connopolian Commission on Premediated Abduction a Connopolian Diplomatic Corp Officer; evidently, they had merely went on indefinite sabbaticals. He spoke, through arched eyebrows, "Weebam-Na, Lord Raekevik, what pleasures to see you both in good health! I must admit, in your absenses, these halls have been rather dull - I can only assume the presence of such respected ambassadors will help ignite the excitement. Might I offer you two drinks?"

The ancient envoy pulled out two seats, circumspectly avoiding those of Feyalisa and Dr. Mason, and motioned the two ambassadors to sit down.

[The National Front Disco]

"It's beautiful, I love it! Thank You, how much do you two want?"Simone replied to the two "What else do you guys do? I can't wait to show this to Sergei!"

"You're our first customer so it's on the house. I hope Sergei likes it!"

Just then Neville shows up for his appointment and David shows him to a chair.

"I think a shorter style would suit you, but not so short that you look like a common SA street thug. A lot of people think "oh I'll shave my head, that'll be sexy". It's not sexy. It makes them look like convicts."

"Lets start with a shampoo. Then we'll see how marvellous we can make you."

David lathers, rinses, lathers again, rinses again, then dries Nevilles locks. He then goes to work with the scissors, cavorting around the chair while Hairdresser On Fire plays over the sound system. Bruce and Franz, who are now dressed in Afrika Korps uniforms (complete with shorts, binoculars, and goggles) stand nearby and watch in amazement as the transformation takes place. David moves at times like a surgeon and at times like a hibachi chef as he circles the chair, a cyclone of scissors, razors, combs and clippers.

A little styling gel, a little hairspray, and it is done. David steps back to admire his work, then slowly spins Neville around so he can look in the mirror.

"Splendid. A work of art if I do say so myself."

[Alqania]

Connopolis still maintains a presence here. In fact one of their proposals was just passed recently, but the Sovreignry Astronomical Society has reported in their most recent reports that they cannot locate any of the known Dizyntk planets in their telescopes. I added the black hole part.

Dr. Forshaw marched into the bar, intent on drinking away his troubles - what these troubles were, he was unsure of, although it was certainly quite the excuse to drink superfluously. However, this instance was not any ordinary trip to the bar - the ancient envoy noted two particular ambassadors, in which he assumed were abducted by an agent of the Connopolian Commission on Premediated Abduction a Connopolian Diplomatic Corp Officer; evidently, they had merely went on indefinite sabbaticals. He spoke, through arched eyebrows, "Weebam-Na, Lord Raekevik, what pleasures to see you both in good health! I must admit, in your absenses, these halls have been rather dull - I can only assume the presence of such respected ambassadors will help ignite the excitement. Might I offer you two drinks?"

The ancient envoy pulled out two seats, circumspectly avoiding those of Feyalisa and Dr. Mason, and motioned the two ambassadors to sit down.

"Dr Forshaw, the pleasure is all mine", Lord Raekevik said as he took the allocated seat. "My Deputy tells me this bar has been even more of a battlefield than the debate chamber lately. And what is this I heard about a cook-a-long?"

Princess Christine stood, one Mojito in each hand, and shot an eye at the Ambassador. Typical, here I get us drinks - his favourite even - and he meets up with a friend who offers him another, she thought to herself. Oh well, I guess I will just have to drink both of these myself. As she started sipping one of the drinks, the Princess noticed something in the corner of her eye.

A small, puple skinned female slipped into the bar, and sat watching the rest of the patrons.

Christine did not recognise the person and decided to pursue her curiosity about who this was, so she approached the newcomer, gave a smile and spoke in a cheery tone. "Hello and welcome to the Strangers' Bar! I am Princess Christine of Alqania, Her Majesty's Deputy Ambassador to the World Assembly. It seems I've got one more drink than I need, would you like it? Neville makes excellent Mojitos."

[The National Front Disco]

An OOC note about the salon: It sort of works like the rest of the bar. You can get your hair done any time. You don't have to wait for me to come along and RP cutting it. I'll do that from time to time but I won't have time to RP every haircut that gets done. So it's kinda like ordering drinks. Just show up for your appointment and viola!, you get your hair done. You can RP the haircut experience if you like, or just assume that the haircut happened. Franz is "sort of" playable. You can have him do normal styling salon type things, just go light on the nazi jargon and don't have him doing anything too outlandish. David and Bruce are NOT playable.

[The Tomb Keepers]

A small, puple skinned female slipped into the bar, and sat watching the rest of the patrons.

Christine did not recognise the person and decided to pursue her curiosity about who this was, so she approached the newcomer, gave a smile and spoke in a cheery tone. "Hello and welcome to the Strangers' Bar! I am Princess Christine of Alqania, Her Majesty's Deputy Ambassador to the World Assembly. It seems I've got one more drink than I need, would you like it? Neville makes excellent Mojitos."

She looked up and said, "Hello. I am Baronness Seija Fatine, ambassador to the World Assembly. I just go by Seija. Um, thanks for the drink. Not to be rude, but how may I call you in casual conversation?"

[Arbites]

"Consider that a 'sign' that it's time for you to leave, Inquisitor. Like I said, the Imperium is not a member of the WA, and since one of the official policies of the Inquisition is 'no more fun of any kind,' I don't think it is proper for you to be in a place like this," Friedman replied, stifling a chuckle at someone having the audacity to plant his boot squarely somewhere between the colon and small intestine of a high-ranking Inquisitor. As an afterthought, Friedman added "I must admit though, that I didn't expect the Imperial Inquisition." He went to walk back to the bar, but hesitated. "Someone keep Cardinal Ximenez here from touching the jukebox again."

"Calm yourself, Friedman, I'm only here to deliver a bit of news and I shall be on my way. There are...a few too many inhuman abominations in here for my tastes." Ortega turned his back on Friedman and walked over to Erin. She tried not to look at him. After a few awkward seconds of Ortega standing behind her, she turned around. Ortega spoke three words:

"We have him."

OOC: We worked this out in TGs.

[Hittanryan]

Erin turns back around slowly, trying her best to avoid looking crushed as Ortega loomed over her with a smug satisfaction. Tears well up in her eyes despite her best efforts. Witnessing this, Friedman signals Franz and bangs on the jukebox. Surprisingly, it works this time, and the score to "Barber of Seville" comes on.

In tune with the opera, Friedman yells "Hey you!" He grabs Ortega and hurls him into the salon. "Don't look so perplexed, why must you be vexed? Can't you see you're next?" Franz seats Ortega in the barber's chair. "Yes, you're next, yooou're so next!" He whispers to Franz, who had unfortunately hadn't seen 'Rabbit of Seville.' Instead, after being told Ortega was the rather homophobic type, Franz hands over a bottle of hot pink hair dye. As Ortega tries to get up, Friedman grabs a bottle of shaving cream and sprays it over his eyes, disorienting him long enough for him to slam him back down in the chair and apply the hair dye.

[Arbites]

Ortega forces Friedman off of him, only to be confronted with his own reflection. Suddenly realizing he looks like the bastard love child of Lady Gaga and Ciaphas Cain, he draws a revolver and takes aim at Friedman. "Tremble before my wrath!" The fact that the gun turns into a giant candy cane when he pulled the trigger doesn't seem to deter Ortega for long, he simply starts beating Friedman over the head with it.

[Hittanryan]

After taking a few blows to the head, hard enough for the candy cane to crack, Friedman starts throwing various barber supplies at him, until finally he manages to get hold of an electric razor. Ortega stands there bemused as Friedman brandishes the 'weapon,' until in one quick motion he removes a sizable chunk of pink hair from the Inquisitor. As Ortega stands there looking stunned, Friedman does it yet again.

[Arbites]

Ortega decides he's had enough, having his hair turned pink and several chunks of it missing. As he storms through the bar and out the front door, he shouts back, "All sinners fear the Emperor's wrath! We won't forget this, Friedman, and your nation's day of reckoning is at hand!"

[Hittanryan]

Friedman answers the threat with a very slushy snowball to the back of the head. Ortega stumbles out the front door. "And stay out! Goddamn fundy assholes..." He looks at Erin knowingly, "I thought I had one more. Thanks for holding onto it." She smiles weakly, says "Thank you," and leaves the bar.

Friedman realizes he's made a scene once again, "Er...sorry about that, folks, just a bit of local trouble spilling over, how about a round of drinks on me?"

[Ardchoille]

Splendid. A work of art if I do say so myself."

"Dear ... gods ..."

Neville gazed in awe at the reflection. "I look ... younger. And even handsomer." He tried out several expressions, pouting just a little, raising one eyebrow. But as he perched fetchingly on one arm of the chair in order to get a better view of his left profile, a muscle twinged a sharp reminder of the morning's exertions unloading stock, and a dreadful thought struck the BarLord.

"Uh ... my job's a bit, you know, physical. Is there any way I can, sorta, keep it like that?"

Franz, recognising the signs of Post Successful Hairdo Syndrome. leapt into action. He loaded Neville with technologically advanced CADD-created combs that actually combed, plus discreet black matte bottles and tubes with the salon's red logo. Together, he promised, these would perform prodigies of conditioning, moisturising, style retention, gloss, vitamins, de-frizz, unsplit ends, thickener, natural waves and, in general, hair that would make Galactic Emperors of whatever gender cast aside their thrones for just one second of his attention.

"It's ... magic," Neville breathed, handing over his credit card with uncharacteristic calm. He strutted back into the Bar, accompanied, he was sure, by a swelling symphony, and caught the eye of a harried Violet.

"Wwweeellllllll," she said. "Well, well, well."

[Astro-Malsitari WA Seat]

Giovanni raised an eyebrow.
"My, Neville, aren't we looking spiffy today. The look suits you, it really does. Perhaps I should head down to the salon later."
He took a look at himself in the prized mirror Neville had and sometimes had to protect from barfights with a steel mesh.
"Then again, 'receding widow's peak' is not exactly something that gives stylists a lot to work with, is it?"

[Alqania]

Christine did not recognise the person and decided to pursue her curiosity about who this was, so she approached the newcomer, gave a smile and spoke in a cheery tone. "Hello and welcome to the Strangers' Bar! I am Princess Christine of Alqania, Her Majesty's Deputy Ambassador to the World Assembly. It seems I've got one more drink than I need, would you like it? Neville makes excellent Mojitos."

She looked up and said, "Hello. I am Baronness Seija Fatine, ambassador to the World Assembly. I just go by Seija. Um, thanks for the drink. Not to be rude, but how may I call you in casual conversation?"

"Casual conversation? Well, if I am to call you Seija, you better call me Christine." The Princess smiled. "And if you ever feel like you need to be more formal, Your Royal Highness is technically the most appropriate form of address, but that isn't very casual, is it? Mind if I have a seat?"

Christine noticed someone coming back out from the salon - who was that? Was that...? No, it couldn't be... or could it? Yes, it must be... Neville?

"Seija, you wouldn't think there was just some kind of temporal anomaly in here, would you? I could swear Neville just got younger and much more... um, photogénique, if you know what I mean." Christine gave her new acquaintance a coy look.