The World Assembly Strangers' Bar

[Wallenburg]

"Well, first, let me point out that my species has been around much longer in its modern form than humans, so we take it as an insult when someone says 'humanoid'. We also were developed far before them. The Irean'vi are my species; we are bipedal sapient creatures, following that definition quite well, looking like scaly creatures. Some say we appear like lizards."

Ogenbonds eyebrow rises. With his writing hand, he taps his pen on the table. "I see. Well, my species are testefekata, which, as you can see, do not have many distinguishing features different from humans."

[Untecna]

"Well, first, let me point out that my species has been around much longer in its modern form than humans, so we take it as an insult when someone says 'humanoid'. We also were developed far before them. The Irean'vi are my species; we are bipedal sapient creatures, following that definition quite well, looking like scaly creatures. Some say we appear like lizards."

Ogenbonds eyebrow rises. With his writing hand, he taps his pen on the table. "I see. Well, my species are testefekata, which, as you can see, do not have many distinguishing features different from humans."

"What, then, makes you a different species?" Vensinu questions Ogenbond. He takes a drink of his vodka, and reshuffles his papers.

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbonds eyebrow rises. With his writing hand, he taps his pen on the table. "I see. Well, my species are testefekata, which, as you can see, do not have many distinguishing features different from humans."

"What, then, makes you a different species?" Vensinu questions Ogenbond. He takes a drink of his vodka, and reshuffles his papers.

Ogenbond takes his free hand and touches it to his forehead, following the line along which his nose bridge extends almost to the top of his head. "The totally incompatible reproductive system is probably the big distinction. As I understand, our skeletal structures are also quite different. I am from a planet with higher surface gravity than this campus, and thus my bones are thicker and stronger. My understanding is that most humanoids do not have the solid bone plates that we do over our heart and lungs."

[Untecna]

"What, then, makes you a different species?" Vensinu questions Ogenbond. He takes a drink of his vodka, and reshuffles his papers.

Ogenbond takes his free hand and touches it to his forehead, following the line along which his nose bridge extends almost to the top of his head. "The totally incompatible reproductive system is probably the big distinction. As I understand, our skeletal structures are also quite different. I am from a planet with higher surface gravity than this campus, and thus my bones are thicker and stronger. My understanding is that most humanoids do not have the solid bone plates that we do over our heart and lungs."

"Mhm. So you are distinct, yet the way you make it sound makes it seem like your species broke off from humans through the spreading out of their species."

[Minskiev]

Wallace pulls up a chair, or rather more of a little capsule that might have been taken from an Alien set, to the table. "Arf arf arf arf, arf arf!" The motherfucker grins after telling the two ambassadors about his unique skeletal structure, the baculum. As anyone would, to be fair. "Arf arf arf arf arf. Arf arf." Wallace flaps his flippers around his tusks as if he was making some mold, caressing them, dragging downwards. He really is rather fond. "Arf arf!"

[Wallenburg]

Wallace pulls up a chair, or rather more of a little capsule that might have been taken from an Alien set, to the table. "Arf arf arf arf, arf arf!" The motherfucker grins after telling the two ambassadors about his unique skeletal structure, the baculum. As anyone would, to be fair. "Arf arf arf arf arf. Arf arf." Wallace flaps his flippers around his tusks as if he was making some mold, caressing them, dragging downwards. He really is rather fond. "Arf arf!"

Ogenbond resets his translator just in time to get an earful of Wallace's detailed description. He closes his eyes, then opens them wider than ever. "What an...exceptional anatomical lesson. I truly have no interest in knowing whether the same holds true for similar creatures back home. Alien bodies have a character totally unlike our own."

[American Pere Housh]

Assistant Secretary of State for International Affairs Morgana Tsuchigama, a 7 tailed kitsune, enter the bar and scans the room and sees Senator Isabella Stuart-Jones sitting at the bar drinking a beer. She walks over to the bar, "Hey Izzy, what brings you here and where is your daughters?"

Izzy looked up and saw Morgana, "Hey Mor, well I'm taking a little break right now and the girls are with my wife and their mother. You can find some really interesting creatures in this bar. Like that lizard humanoid over there from Untecna." Izzy over at the Untecnan WA ambassador.

"I heard that!" he exclaims from across the room. "I'd prefer to be called an 'Irean'vi', thank you very much! Calling me a humanoid is essentially referring to me as a 'xeno', and we Untecnans find that rather insulting!"

Isabella looked back at the Untecnan with a raised eyebrow, "That is good hearing you have sir. I apologize for unintentionally insulting you or your species as the New Martial Kingdom would view your species as humanoid even if your species is older than mine."

Wallace pulls up a chair, or rather more of a little capsule that might have been taken from an Alien set, to the table. "Arf arf arf arf, arf arf!" The motherfucker grins after telling the two ambassadors about his unique skeletal structure, the baculum. As anyone would, to be fair. "Arf arf arf arf arf. Arf arf." Wallace flaps his flippers around his tusks as if he was making some mold, caressing them, dragging downwards. He really is rather fond. "Arf arf!"

Izzy looks towards Wallace with a confused look on her face, "While I'm fluent in many languages, Walrus isn't one of them. Can someone please translate what he just said?"

[Groot]

Izzy looks towards Wallace with a confused look on her face, "While I'm fluent in many languages, Walrus isn't one of them. Can someone please translate what he just said?"

Groot raises a branch and provides what he considers a perfectly accurate translation when he says: "I am Groot."

[Untecna]

"I heard that!" he exclaims from across the room. "I'd prefer to be called an 'Irean'vi', thank you very much! Calling me a humanoid is essentially referring to me as a 'xeno', and we Untecnans find that rather insulting!"

Isabella looked back at the Untecnan with a raised eyebrow, "That is good hearing you have sir. I apologize for unintentionally insulting you or your species as the New Martial Kingdom would view your species as humanoid even if your species is older than mine."

Wallace pulls up a chair, or rather more of a little capsule that might have been taken from an Alien set, to the table. "Arf arf arf arf, arf arf!" The motherfucker grins after telling the two ambassadors about his unique skeletal structure, the baculum. As anyone would, to be fair. "Arf arf arf arf arf. Arf arf." Wallace flaps his flippers around his tusks as if he was making some mold, caressing them, dragging downwards. He really is rather fond. "Arf arf!"

Izzy looks towards Wallace with a confused look on her face, "While I'm fluent in many languages, Walrus isn't one of them. Can someone please translate what he just said?"

"Eh, apology accepted, Ambassador. Just hurts to see we must still describe it, but then again, you've seen the Republic of Untecna, not the Empire."

[The Palentine]

At this point a large black raven flew into the bar. Its eyes seemed to glint with unnatural intellegence. It landed on the bar, and the patrons noticed some of its feathers were askew. It paused a moment to use its beak to smooth down some feathers before looking around. After a minute or so of glancing around it yelled out in a raspy, yet intelligable voice,

"What does a Corvid have to do to get a bowl of eyeballs, or plate of entrails in this joint?"

A couple of minutes later Violet came out of the kitchen and placed a bowl of "eyeballs" in front of the Raven, who began eating them with gusto. Patrons with a strong stomach could observe the "eyeballs" were actually large cocktail onions stuffed with cream cheese and pimentos, by Dazza.

[Ainocra]

Supreme Marshal Enta looks over at the raven gorging itself and chuckles. "You know those are going to give you terrible gas later, they always do."
Tapping his empty glass he summons Neville. "Top Bell off too he's looking dry." Chuckling to himself the Marshal muses aloud. "apparently you CAN be in two places at once if you try hard enough."

[Unibot III]

Vice Ambassador Percy Winslow stepped into the World Assembly Strangers' Bar, still having flashbacks from the mid 2010s: pantless and crawling on the floor, singing the power ballad "Do You Remember, Chubby Perks?" Enough time had passed, he had assumed. Besides, Percy thought, he wasn't the nerdy, awkward summer intern anymore that he was back then, he was now a nerdy, awkward diplomat.

In those days, Unibot commanded something of a positive reputation in the WA, marred only slightly by its representatives' petty corruption, lewdness, drunkenness, rule-breaking, crudeness... okay it wasn't ever the most respected of nations. Its founder, Eduard Heir may also have been found guilty for some war crimes too (but we've all been guilty of a bit of that riff-raff from time to time).

Percy introduced his aide to the Strangers' Bar, his arms wide open... "Ms. Montebello, welcome to the Strangers' Bar. The traditional way to celebrate your first week at the WAHQ! Some tips: first, always order the truffle fries. Never order the red ales. Don't look anyone in the eye for too long, especially a witch. Exclusively use the bathrooms for relieving yourself. And when you do, use the bathrooms exclusively for relieving yourself."

Chiara, trailing behind Percy, was immediately charmed by the pub's rustic atmosphere. How lovely!

"Do you come here often?" said Chiara.

"Only when I've had a rough day," said Percy.

Percy sat at the bar and extended his hand to another stool.

"New girl gets Eduard Heir's seat," said Percy.

Chiara looked at the seat with amazement.

"Eduard Heir?? The Eduard Heir??" she said.

"The one and only, I hope," he said.

"Are we allowed to sit on it? Did he really sit here?" she said, astonished.

"Eddy did a lot there, frankly it's a miracle he didn't die there," said Percy. He ordered two beers on tap and a side of truffle fries to start the evening off right.

"So, Mr. Winslow, when will I get to draft a resolution?" said Chiara.

Percy coughed up some foam, "Kgk-k, sorry?" Chiara blushed. Percy, flustered, said "We're not a WA nation, Unibot doesn't draft resolutions anymore. And besides, we're not exactly popular with the other delegations."

"So it's not just me then, I was starting to think I had died and had become a ghost," said Chiara.

"No, no Ms. Montebello, the only member of our staff to officially die and become a ghost on the premises was Dr. Wager - he haunts the fourteenth floor," he said casually in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What does our office do then if we're not drafting anything?" said Chiara.

"Ultimately, Unibot pays us to maintain an official presence in the WAHQ, we drink the free drinks, eat the free food, sleep the free sleeps, and - from time to time - communicate corporate's input on resolutions," said Percy.

"Does anyone ever take your advice into consideration?" she said.

"Oh good god no, I think most delegations are afraid if they acknowledge us, they may be cancelled," said Percy. "Relax, Ms. Montebello. It's easier this way, really. Once you lower your expectations and abandon your professional development, you can get very comfortable with doing nothing noteworthy on company time."

[Ainocra]

Vice Ambassador Percy Winslow stepped into the World Assembly Strangers' Bar, still having flashbacks from the mid 2010s: pantless and crawling on the floor, singing the power ballad "Do You Remember, Chubby Perks?" Enough time had passed, he had assumed. Besides, Percy thought, he wasn't the nerdy, awkward summer intern anymore that he was back then, he was now a nerdy, awkward diplomat.

In those days, Unibot commanded something of a positive reputation in the WA, marred only slightly by its representatives' petty corruption, lewdness, drunkenness, rule-breaking, crudeness... okay it wasn't ever the most respected of nations. Its founder, Eduard Heir may also have been found guilty for some war crimes too (but we've all been guilty of a bit of that riff-raff from time to time).

Percy introduced his aide to the Strangers' Bar, his arms wide open... "Ms. Montebello, welcome to the Strangers' Bar. The traditional way to celebrate your first week at the WAHQ! Some tips: first, always order the truffle fries. Never order the red ales. Don't look anyone in the eye for too long, especially a witch. Exclusively use the bathrooms for relieving yourself. And when you do, use the bathrooms exclusively for relieving yourself."

Chiara, trailing behind Percy, was immediately charmed by the pub's rustic atmosphere. How lovely!

"Do you come here often?" said Chiara.

"Only when I've had a rough day," said Percy.

Percy sat at the bar and extended his hand to another stool.

"New girl gets Eduard Heir's seat," said Percy.

Chiara looked at the seat with amazement.

"Eduard Heir?? The Eduard Heir??" she said.

"The one and only, I hope," he said.

"Are we allowed to sit on it? Did he really sit here?" she said, astonished.

"Eddy did a lot there, frankly it's a miracle he didn't die there," said Percy. He ordered two beers on tap and a side of truffle fries to start the evening off right.

"So, Mr. Winslow, when will I get to draft a resolution?" said Chiara.

Percy coughed up some foam, "Kgk-k, sorry?" Chiara blushed. Percy, flustered, said "We're not a WA nation, Unibot doesn't draft resolutions anymore. And besides, we're not exactly popular with the other delegations."

"So it's not just me then, I was starting to think I had died and had become a ghost," said Chiara.

"No, no Ms. Montebello, the only member of our staff to officially die and become a ghost on the premises was Dr. Wager - he haunts the fourteenth floor," he said casually in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What does our office do then if we're not drafting anything?" said Chiara.

"Ultimately, Unibot pays us to maintain an official presence in the WAHQ, we drink the free drinks, eat the free food, sleep the free sleeps, and - from time to time - communicate corporate's input on resolutions," said Percy.

"Does anyone ever take your advice into consideration?" she said.

"Oh good god no, I think most delegations are afraid if they acknowledge us, they may be cancelled," said Percy. "Relax, Ms. Montebello. It's easier this way, really. Once you lower your expectations and abandon your professional development, you can get very comfortable with doing nothing noteworthy on company time."

The Supreme Marshal laughs at the conversation and interjects. "He did die there, several times but the safety features of the place kept him around, hell he's probably in the cellar drinking from the barrels still."

[Untecna]

"And suddenly I feel like a song" says Awack'ir, as he enters the bar. "Say, I wonder if they know of some of the songs released by... oh, I forgot the name... they are good, though..."

He orders a glass of champagne, for some reason, and gets it diligently. "Now, I celebrate recent developments in the World Assembly!" he exclaims, as he drinks. "Very good, er... damn, not even the bartenders name."

He sits at a table, keeping to himself and going over his revised legislation, before tapping his foot to some rhythm reminiscent of what some may see as an 80s song, maybe 70s.

[Unibot III]

The complete Unibotian delegation was seated at the table nearest the TV, taking shots every time a WA Delegate voted to repeal the Institutional Psychiatry Act.

“Do we do this with every resolution that’s repealed? Or just our own?” shouted Hugo in a loud, slurred voice.

“We should do this more often!!” piped Chiara cheerily.

“We don’t have that many resolutions of ours left to repeal,” said Percy despondently, knocking back another shot of tequila.

“I’ve got a plan: you pass ‘em, and I’ll repeal ‘em,” said 'Doc' Montana.

The Unibotians crowed approvingly at this half-baked plan.

Sprawled out across the table were empty drinking glasses, truffle fries, nachos, and remnants of a game of poker - chips, cards, loose change. Franklin the 'office' cat was also curled up on the table, sleeping soundly notwithstanding the division bells.

"So Hugo, how did you get your nickname? Hazmat Hugo?" said Montana, breaking the lull.

"Long story, really," said Hugo. "A few years ago I worked as a compliance lawyer for Heir Industries in the arms department. Essentially we lobbied the Compliance Commission on behalf of clients to defend the sale of arms. We worked with all the legislation on the books. NAPA. Safeguarding Nuclear Materials, Responsibility In Transferring Arms, Radiological Terrorism
etc. you know - the classics. We would raise all sorts of questions with the letter of the law. Can you sell to a non-member-nation? What is the "wrong hands"? What contravenes human rights legislation? What constitutes a conquest? Can the weapon be sold in working order or does it has to be sold as separate parts and assembled? That sort of thing. Whatever it took to get the WA to greenlight our sale of the weapons."

"So where does the nickname come in...?" said Percy.

"Well, I spent three months living in a hazmat suit in the Klaprothian Test Fields getting bombarded with Agent Orange, " said Hugo. The table gasped. "We were trying to use the experiment to make the case to the WA Chemical Weapons Commission that in fact, Agent Orange is just a regular old herbicide and should fall under the pesticide regulations."

"Did the commission buy it?" said Percy.

"I was made a Vice Ambassador was I not?" said Hugo. "Not that I'm necessarily proud of my work to decriminalize chemical warfare."

A silence fell over the Unibotian table, all the while the "aye" votes continued to be cast.

"I was fifteen when I was hired as the aide to the Vice Ambassador," said Percy in a moment of self-reflection. "I didn't know much of anything! The Winslows were old family friends of the Zhildigos."

"I was a patronage hire too," conceded Chiara, who swallowed the admission with a shot of tequila. "Marguerite owed my mother a favour for catering her son's wedding."

"Was it good catering?" said Hugo.

"Awful," said Chiara.

"I was never a real doctor," said Montana. "I sold mattresses for a living. Montana isn't even my real name. My name is Joop Jørgensen. How was I supposed to sell mattresses with a name like Joop Jørgensen!?"

"I guess we're all just a bunch of fakers," said Percy.

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbond enters, a large canvas bag over his shoulder. Behind him follow multiple aides carrying their own cargoes. He directs them to take several tables in the back corner of the bar. Soon after them follows Trevanyika, wheeling in a whiteboard and carrying a bundle of rifles on her back, the bundle emblazoned with "DO NOT OPEN WITHIN BAR" in bright red. After several minutes, the team has arranged tables in a semicircle around a central table and the whiteboard.

"I think that's everything for now. The radio should be here in a few hours, the office is busy with it right now." Ogenbond takes the rifles from Trevanyika and stows them in a box next to the whiteboard. "Go back to the office and finish the paperwork. I look forward to your work, Comrade Representative."

Nodding, Trevanyika makes for the exit. Ogenbond goes to the bar instead and orders one of the few beers that he enjoys out of its on-hand stock.

[Sierra Lyricalia]

Ogenbond enters, a large canvas bag over his shoulder. Behind him follow multiple aides carrying their own cargoes. He directs them to take several tables in the back corner of the bar. Soon after them follows Trevanyika, wheeling in a whiteboard and carrying a bundle of rifles on her back, the bundle emblazoned with "DO NOT OPEN WITHIN BAR" in bright red. After several minutes, the team has arranged tables in a semicircle around a central table and the whiteboard.

"I think that's everything for now. The radio should be here in a few hours, the office is busy with it right now." Ogenbond takes the rifles from Trevanyika and stows them in a box next to the whiteboard. "Go back to the office and finish the paperwork. I look forward to your work, Comrade Representative."

Nodding, Trevanyika makes for the exit. Ogenbond goes to the bar instead and orders one of the few beers that he enjoys out of its on-hand stock.

Leo notes the sudden flurry of activity and entirely fails to keep an eyebrow from raising in response. Feeling at least two to three times as subtle and suave and casual and nonchalant as he is actually being, he moseys over to a small open table near a different corner, where he has a direct line of site to both the ad-hoc meeting area and the bar entrance. He sips his drink and plays with his phone, as though his attention isn't entirely focused on the meeting area.

[Wallenburg]

Ogenbond, who has spent the better part of the hour either staring at his watch or at the doors to the bar, lets out a deep sigh. "Good! Damn it, Tholo, I didn't think you were going to make it in time!"

A young man—perhaps "boy" would be more appropriate—lurches across the bar's threshold, a huge metal box strapped to his shoulders. "Sir?" a small voice forces out, "Sir, this radio is even heavier than it looks."

Another Wallenburgian gets to him soon enough that his legs don't fall out under the weight of his load. The two get it over to the strange site and set it on one of the tables in the semicircle. Yet another aide gets to work hooking up its power adapter and retuning it for clear reception.

[Bears Armed]

Artorrios walks into the Bar, looking tired but relieved. Through the doors behind him, which don't close quickly, anybody in the room who's looking in that direction is able to see a column of Bears (and B.A.M. staff of other species) carrying their office's furniture & portable ornaments down the main staircase. He walks across to the bar, nodding in passing to various people with whom he's acquainted, and waits until Jimmy the part-time bartender is free. The two of them move to a small table at one end of the bar, away from the main seating area, and go over some papers that Artorrios was carrying. Then Jimmy says something that nobody away from that table hears clearly, and Artorrios pulls a large bag from one of his jacket pockets out of which he counts golden coins into a series of stacks on the table. Jimmy also seems to be counting the coins as they are placed there. and when Artorrios stops he nods then sweeps these into a bag of his own. Atorrios gets out a pen, and they both sign two of the papers, taking one copy each. It's likely that somebody or other has "accidentally" wandered closer to them by this point, and that somebody (or those somebodies) will now be able to hear Artorrios although Jimmy's words are somehow still obscured.

"Hrright, that's it, the Mission's complete tab all paid in full and properly receipted. Any of my staff come in here again, explain that from now on they have to pay cash instead." (He pauses, and gets a few more coins out of his pocket which he also hands over.)
"Actually, let them drink on this until it runs out. Furniture-moving can be thirsty work, after all."

"Yes, everything, from the complete office suite. I'll just go check whether they're finished, and once the place is definitely clear I'll stop by Building Management to drop off the keys: Our final bill from them has been settled already."

"No, not even an observation mission, now. The High Council back home doesn't want anything at all to do with any organisation that decides it has a right to legislate on its members' forms of government -- a viewpoint with hwhich I am in full agreement -- so that's it. We're out of here."

Artorrios and Jimmy shake hands, Jimmy returns to behind the bar, and Artorrios strolls -- again, nodding to people he knows -- out of the room.

____________________________________________________

(OOC: I am resigning from GenSec, Bears Armed Mission is withdrawing from the WA and will not be replaced by any other puppet of mine, and I probably won't even look at events in this forum in future... I'm going to shift my attention to aspects of the game that I still enjoy, instead. Good luck!)

[The Forest of Aeneas]

(OOC: I am resigning from GenSec, Bears Armed Mission is withdrawing from the WA and will not be replaced by any other puppet of mine, and I probably won't even look at events in this forum in future... I'm going to shift my attention to aspects of the game that I still enjoy, instead. Good luck!)

OOC: Sad to see you go. . Good luck outside of the GA, though!

IC: Ambassador Cecilia Maro. Ambassador Maro enters the bar for the first time. 'Well, seeing as the bears are departing from here, will this finally become a human-only body now? If so, does that mean that we can finally remove World Assembly protection of filthy crabs?'

[The Orwell Society]

Artorrios walks into the Bar, looking tired but relieved. Through the doors behind him, which don't close quickly, anybody in the room who's looking in that direction is able to see a column of Bears (and B.A.M. staff of other species) carrying their office's furniture & portable ornaments down the main staircase. He walks across to the bar, nodding in passing to various people with whom he's acquainted, and waits until Jimmy the part-time bartender is free. The two of them move to a small table at one end of the bar, away from the main seating area, and go over some papers that Artorrios was carrying. Then Jimmy says something that nobody away from that table hears clearly, and Artorrios pulls a large bag from one of his jacket pockets out of which he counts golden coins into a series of stacks on the table. Jimmy also seems to be counting the coins as they are placed there. and when Artorrios stops he nods then sweeps these into a bag of his own. Atorrios gets out a pen, and they both sign two of the papers, taking one copy each. It's likely that somebody or other has "accidentally" wandered closer to them by this point, and that somebody (or those somebodies) will now be able to hear Artorrios although Jimmy's words are somehow still obscured.

"Hrright, that's it, the Mission's complete tab all paid in full and properly receipted. Any of my staff come in here again, explain that from now on they have to pay cash instead." (He pauses, and gets a few more coins out of his pocket which he also hands over.)
"Actually, let them drink on this until it runs out. Furniture-moving can be thirsty work, after all."

"Yes, everything, from the complete office suite. I'll just go check whether they're finished, and once the place is definitely clear I'll stop by Building Management to drop off the keys: Our final bill from them has been settled already."

"No, not even an observation mission, now. The High Council back home doesn't want anything at all to do with any organisation that decides it has a right to legislate on its members' forms of government -- a viewpoint with hwhich I am in full agreement -- so that's it. We're out of here."

Artorrios and Jimmy shake hands, Jimmy returns to behind the bar, and Artorrios strolls -- again, nodding to people he knows -- out of the room.

____________________________________________________

(OOC: I am resigning from GenSec, Bears Armed Mission is withdrawing from the WA and will not be replaced by any other puppet of mine, and I probably won't even look at events in this forum in future... I'm going to shift my attention to aspects of the game that I still enjoy, instead. Good luck!)

You will be missed, surely

[Untecna]

(OOC: I am resigning from GenSec, Bears Armed Mission is withdrawing from the WA and will not be replaced by any other puppet of mine, and I probably won't even look at events in this forum in future... I'm going to shift my attention to aspects of the game that I still enjoy, instead. Good luck!)

OOC: Sad to see you go. . Good luck outside of the GA, though!

IC: Ambassador Cecilia Maro. Ambassador Maro enters the bar for the first time. 'Well, seeing as the bears are departing from here, will this finally become a human-only body now? If so, does that mean that we can finally remove World Assembly protection of filthy crabs?'

"Unfortunately for your likely xenophobic group, the answer to your question is no" says the ambassador from Untecna, an Irean'vi. "This body is not human-only to begin with..."

[Princess Rainbow Sparkles]

*snip*

[The Orwell Society]

^{OOC: I didn't even know that this thread existed… wow. What better way to introduce my delegate than to post here?}

Well, here goes nothing. Richard Holland of the Orwellian WA Organization (OWAO) walked into the bar trying to hide his nervousness with a (nervous, unfortunately) smile. The OWAO had been founded by him just six months earlier at an attempt to plaunder the funds given by the WA to enact their "committees" and "associations" and to give the rest of the world the illusion that the Society is complying the terms of passed resolutions. As far as the WA was concerned, the Orwell Society was a small, benelovent dictatorship of a island archipelago more than happy to comply with its provisions. Boy, were they wrong. That aside, the workers of the OWAO was paid handsomely for their deceptions and were completely free from the oppression of the Orwellian government.

Richard and the OWAO obeyed the Orwellian government's every command, but unknown to them, the OWAO was acyually trying to get involved. Richard's authorship of the GA proposal "Combating Disinformation", which is currently awaiting for enough approvals to reach international quorum, was the second attempt. Richard truly wanted to be a part of the wonderful internationall body that was the World Assembly, and was willing to lie to his beloved home country to do so (the Orwellian government is oblivious of what the OWAO have been doing in their free time).

Richard walked through the bar's door, sweating bullets. I'm not ready for this, I'm not ready - Oh god, they're looking at me funny.. He sat down on a nearby stool and looked around for a bartender.

"Can I get a drink? A Dr. Pepper, if you have it. A light beer if you don't." He looked around at the chilling WA ambassadors, and gulped.

"Hello, I am Richard Holland, delegate to the Orwell Society. How are you all today?"

[Yeldan UN Mission]

Artorrios strolls -- again, nodding to people he knows -- out of the room.

Hæila Wythåefþ stands, raises his glass, and nods.





(OOC: not sure Wythåefþ and Artorrios would actually know one another, but we can assume he still hangs around in the bar.)