NationStates Jolt Archive

"Great" Thought Sen. Pearson "Thats half a pint of lager down the front of my new trousers."

"Thanks for that" Andy said. "I'm sure I'll get the hang of it soon enough"

"God, please don't let anyone talk to me!"

"How do you do," comes a voice from a few feet away. Looking at the delegate sitting next to him, Andrew sees a short and somewhat lean black man, dressed in an immaculately unwrinkled white suit, and sporting several gold earrings and rings.

"Name is Halys Mattan. Don't kill yourself over that speech, it's not like most of the delegates here are paragons of eloquence. Hell, there's plenty who hardly know English."

"Red wine for me, please." the delegate says to the bartender. "Al-Minyat Rising Sun if you have it."

"Good choice, I'm afraid with all the dam Woddchipping that goes on back home our vineyards aren't what they used to be."

Slipping over to the newly found conversationalist Andrew makes himself conmfy on a nearby chair, lazing into the soft leather.

"So whats with the dude with the pointy teeth?" Whispered Sen Pearson "I've heard of the cut and thrust of debate but not the bite!"

Dr. Hodz sat next to Sen. Sulla, lowball glass in hand, filled with a glistening liquid that, at 102 proof, was probably not exactly healthy. Dr. Hodz looked around, observing the Blue Eyed Man, or at least his face, that person from Quod, and some new guy.

Guess I'd better start getting to know people, Hodz thought.

He took a drink of the alcohol and immediately coughed hardly. It was strong. Very strong. Too strong. Dr. Hodz collapsed in a heap on the floor, steps away from the Blue Eyed Man. He was knocked out, for sure. But not dead. Not that you could die in the Stranger's Bar anyway, there's some kind of regenerative field that give new- ANYWAY!

Where was I?

Oh yes. Dr. Hodz was losing consciousness.

Sod THAT idea! he thought, his vision fading to black. He knew he'd be awake later anyway.

That's the LAST time I listen to Sulla's recommendations, Hodz thought, losing his consciousness.

Dr. Hodz fainted. The lowball glass crashed to the floor, the corrosive liquor burning through the floor with a sizzle.

"God, please don't let anyone talk to me!" he thought, downing the whiskey a necking the top from his lager. "I'm not a bloody politician, why oh why did I let my brother talk me into joining the UN"



"Hello, i don't believe we've met, i'm The Blue Eyed Man" said The Blue Eyed Man to Sam.

"Haven't met him, but unless you have self-defense training or bodyguards it seems it might be best to avoid angering the guy."

Mattan winks, and turns to watch Dr. Hodz just as the man collapses.

"...One drink? Sheesh, not even I am that much of a lightweight."

The Ambassador chuckles.

Adjusting his black duster...A Sam Adams and 2 shot of Stoli barkeep and make it quick I've got man-eating leprachauns to hunt.

"Not me I hope. I don't eat men; just women. Which is legal in my nation. Barkeep, double shot of Patron."

The short Irishman hops onto the barstool, eyeing his fellow UN representatives with an air of familiarity. He sets his blazer and Bowler cap on the bar after finishing his drink, and proceeds to light a filterless cigarette.

"Thanks Halys, I'll keep that in mind"

A bleeping from Andrews right trousers pocket makes everyone turn round and look at the man from TWOSuperstars fumbling around for his mobile phone.

"Sorry! Sorry!"

"Hello? What do you want? No, the speech didn't go down well you idiot! didn't you research this thing?? What good news? what do you mean Regional Delegate!?! How did that happen!? Right, I'm coming back right now and there had best be an explanation!"

Slamming the phone shut Andy smiles wainly at the crowd before making his excuses and running out through the door.

"Odd fellow" said Malys.

"Burble" Said Dr Hodz.

"Ah well. I suppose he will learn his way around soon enough."

After multiple glasses of wine Mattan rises, swaying slightly and putting his earlier words about 'lightweights' in some doubt.

"Guess I've got to go vote yes on the current resolution. Be seeing you." he says to his chair, and wanders out.

Sen. Sulla looks down at the collaped heap that was Dr. Hodz of Akimond. Hesadly shakes his head and mutters,

"Amatuers! Just like running a marathon, you have to train for it slowly."

Sen Sulla pauses for a moment in sad revery for the spilled liquor, then says to the passing waitress.

"Two more Wild turkeys(TM) on the rocks good lady for me and my companion."

He smiles at his sec'y Velma. Then before the waitress leaves he says,

"And put them on Dr. Hodz's tab."

(OOC: I've warned y'all that the good Senator has few redeeming qualities.:p )

Dr. Hodz stands up, his head hurting rather badly. By now the corrosive liquor has eaten into the joists. Oh well.

Dr. Hodz retrieves his lowball glass. He then pulls up his tab on his PDA.

What's this? Two more Wild Turkeys! From Sulla, eh? I'll play his game, Hodz thought, looking at the tab.

A maniacal smile crept up his face. He smacked it off.

"Frickin' smile! Go back to your home planet!" Hodz yelled.

He then walks over to the bartender. Steathily, he says, "Put at least thirty-two cases of whalemeat on Sulla's tab. And deliver them to his office."

Noticing people watching him, he recovers.

"uh...That'll be all, Neville! Have a nice day!"

Hodz walks over to a conveniently placed medicine cabinet and grabs the bottle of aspirin inside.

Realizing he needs something to swallow with, he goes over to a vending machine and orders a chocolate milk. The machine is happy to oblige. "Share and Enjoy!" the machine states in a phony voice.

Dr. Hodz takes the entire contents of the aspirin bottle, including the little cotton thingy and whatnot.

He then walks over to The Blue Eyed Man.

"Uh, hi. I've seen you around. I just wanted to say hello. I'm Dr. Hodz. You can call me Dr. Hodz."

Dr. Hodz stands up, his head hurting rather badly. By now the corrosive liquor has eaten into the joists. Oh well.

Dr. Hodz retrieves his lowball glass. He then pulls up his tab on his PDA.

What's this? Two more Wild Turkeys! From Sulla, eh? I'll play his game, Hodz thought, looking at the tab.

A maniacal smile crept up his face. He smacked it off.

"Frickin' smile! Go back to your home planet!" Hodz yelled.

He then walks over to the bartender. Steathily, he says, "Put at least thirty-two cases of whalemeat on Sulla's tab. And deliver them to his office."

Noticing people watching him, he recovers.

"uh...That'll be all, Neville! Have a nice day!"

Hodz walks over to a conveniently placed medicine cabinet and grabs the bottle of aspirin inside.

Realizing he needs something to swallow with, he goes over to a vending machine and orders a chocolate milk. The machine is happy to oblige. "Share and Enjoy!" the machine states in a phony voice.

Dr. Hodz takes the entire contents of the aspirin bottle, including the little cotton thingy and whatnot.

He then walks over to The Blue Eyed Man.

"Uh, hi. I've seen you around. I just wanted to say hello. I'm Dr. Hodz. You can call me Dr. Hodz."


"Hello Dr. Hodz, i believe i've seen you around too. I'm The Blue Eyed Man." said The Blue Eyed Man. "Can i get you any thing for that fall? It looked like it hurt."

"I leave courtesy and professionalism at the office. BARKEEP!! BEER!!"

From beneath a table near the bar could be heard the sound of someone sucking in oxygen as though it were his last breath, followed by fits of coughing and panting. Then a groan, as the apparent producer of the strange noises wearily sat up on the floor, clutching his head. Throbbing pangs tortured his temples as he attempted to ponder exactly how long he'd been out. It had been quite awhile; nearly five weeks, in fact. That last application (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12512499&postcount=5713) of Wolfgang's gun must have had some unintended side-effects.

Desperately the ambassador tried to remember anything significant that might have transpired in that stretch of time, but found nothing, save a strange dream (at least, he thought, it must have been a dream) of Avaya in the library, over studies, telling him (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12497912&postcount=5694) she really wanted to make out again, and could they pleeease go back to his office for some privacy? He had acquiesced, but they must have taken a wrong turn somewhere on the eighth floor, and as they negotiated the labyrinth-esque corridors of the UN Building, he kept hearing Avaya mutter obsessively under her breath about how her beau was "not dressed right for the party" and he "needed to change" -- leading to a sudden flash of light and a realization that his clothes had vanished, and he was standing out in the hallway in nothing but his Stewie Griffin boxers. How horrified Avaya became at this, but as she hurriedly pushed him through a nearby door in an attempt to conceal his shame, they found some kinky bondage-fest on the other side, with people yelling "Surprise!", and Sammy collapsing half-naked to the floor, and his "mistress" standing over him, and, finally, Cdr. Chiang smiling satisfactorily at Avaya, murmuring, "The Force is strong in this one."

It grew rather patchy after that ... apparently he'd been tied down to a chair, still with no clothes on, and people were taking turns behind a podium to tell embarrassing stories about him, and George Brown asking Chiang if there was enough gin to spike the punch, and Chiang assuring him that of course there was, and if he dared question her again she'd pull the chains tethering him to the wall even tighter -- and then striking him in the abdomen with the butt of her whip for good measure.

As the boy considered his present surroundings, he realized he'd been plopped into the Strangers' Bar once again. His immediate thought was, Avaya! She must know of some magic to help restore his wits, or if not, someone else who did. Clumsily he grabbed the edge of the table to pull himself up, but as he scanned the bar for her, he realized it was hopeless. Thanks to the Kawaiians' mass emigration to cities scattered across the globe, and the Nunciate's offer (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12615475&postcount=141) to help process their visas, hooded figures were swarming all over the joint. Picking Avaya out from dozens of determined pilgrims would be impossible.

He gave up the chore with a sigh, and stumbled toward the counter, the pains in his cranium returning as he hailed the barlord. "Yo Neville," he choked, "you wouldn't happen to have something to help cure a hangover, or the after-effects of some magical mishap, something?" He looked down on his frame to find the menacing eyes of a familiar cartoon infant glaring scoldingly back up at him. "And some pants, too, if you got 'em."

"Can i get you any thing for that fall? It looked like it hurt."

"Probably just some plain ale. Nothing as strong as Sulla's pure ethanol. I'm pretty sure that could fuel my car." Hodz said.

"Eh, I'll order it myself."

He ran over to the counter and did so, receiving a Commerative UN lowball glass filled with some mildly alcoholic liquor. He took a drink, then collapsed again, except without the fainting.

"Oh, bother. Something's going on, and it's probably on half the fault of the alcohol. I need to see a doctor."

Dr. Hodz yelled. "IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE BAR? I COULD REALLY USE A- Wait. I'm a doctor."

He removed a glowing blue glass canister from his pocket and consumed the contents.

"Bacta, ahhh!"

Hodz took another drink. He managed to stay upright this time.

"Well," Dr. Hodz, said, thinking, "it has been some twenty years since I drank alcohol... what with prohibition and all. It'll probably wear off. But in the mean time, this liquor is quite helpful."

He took another drink and fell again.

"MOTHER OF GRRggystanjsd!" Hodz yelled in anger, standing again. By now he was starting to look stupid. "Fine! I'll have wine! Jeez."

Hodz grabbed a bottle of wine from some unfortunate bystander and drank it. No problems here.

"Well, at least wine's okay. Maybe beer...? How can you be in the UN and not drink alcohol? You'd go mad!"

Dr. Hodz then noticed Mr. Faisano's awakening.

"Nice to have you back, Sammy. Put some pants on."

"Welcome back to us, Mister Fasiano. Have a nice time?" Wolfgang asked, as he discreetly passed Dr. Holtz, his PET scanning whatever it was that he'd drank. He then told the device to construct item 079831047. A vial materialized, standing on the screen. "Here." He handed it to Sammy. The nanobots in the liquid would recharge his brain, so to speak. And they'd probably hang around and make sure the rest of him worked fine. He'd feel great for a long, long time. Wolfgang smirked to himself as he sat next to Sammy and continued with his drink.

OOC: Least he could do after one of his guns contributing to the situation, :D

Cerys Coch walked into the bar tiredly. Normally she avoided the place, since the Ambassador frequented the place often enough and she really didn't want to be talking politics in her off time. With Prince Rhodri back home, however, she had the opposite problem of Ifan the Steward practically camping in the office, keen to prove that he could do the job as well as any royal dimwit. He certainly had the dimwit part down as far as Cerys was concerned. Ifan seemed to be one of those elected politicians who thought they actually did things, rather than just letting their officers get on with it.

Leaning up against the bar, Cerys wondered for the forty seventh time that day whether she had made the right choice in following up on her Political Science degree once her rugby-playing days were over. Right now that commentary job was looking awfully tempting.

"Pint of best, please, Neville," she said as the barman approached, "and what's on the menu tonight?" Glancing along the bar for the snack menu, she couldn't help but notice Sammy Faisano looking much the worse for wear. And sine trousers. Mm. A bit skinny for her tastes, but promisingly uninhibited, at least while he was hung over. "Have you got one of those to go?"

<snip>Sammy Faisano looking much the worse for wear. And sine trousers. Mm. A bit skinny for her tastes, but promisingly uninhibited, at least while he was hung over. "Have you got one of those to go?"

"If by 'those' you mean Sammy, I doubt he's going anywhere, at least in the next few minutes," Neville said, with a meaningful nod at the other end of the bar, down which Avaya Thibaudet was meaningfully sashaying, the other drinkers peeling out of her way in a sequence that looked as well-rehearsed as any everyone-gets-out-the-way sequence in any movie involving a bar.

It was not surprising Sammy hadn't been able to see her when his desperate gaze sought to penetrate the anonymous flow of robed and hooded Kawaiian figures. She wasn't hooded, or veiled. Her long black hair floated free behind her as she descended on him like (wait for it) An Avenging Goddess; her expressive dark eyes snapped with anger as she focussed on his unclad form.

"So, here you are!" she hissed, slapping a completely irrelevant riding crop against the counter. "Did I give you permission to leave? I did not! You are disobedient, Samuel! It's time we had another Little Talk! You will come with me now!"

Avaya turned angrily on her heel, her all-enveloping robes swirling open in a way that made clear they were no longer all-enveloping. Plainly she was in no doubt that the hapless Kennyite would follow.

Nor was Neville. The thigh-high boots, the corselette the girl had borrowed from Cdr Chiang, the imaginative visual combination of leather and, er, missing leather that made up the rest of her outfit ... if he'd finished his shift, Neville would definitely have followed, too.

Of course, if he had he would have heard the penitent whisper: "Oh, Sammy, darling, I'm afraid I've been rather a naughty girl. Let's just get out of here and I'll explain everything."

But he didn't follow. He had snacks to serve, drinks to dispense, and a bloody great whale carcass defrosting, despite his best efforts, in the cool-room. Still, he could at least get in a plot teaser for next week's show:

"She's been like this ever since the Kennyite delegation held that themed birthday party for Sammy," he confided to Violet. "God knows what Dicey will say when she gets back."

The louvred half-doors were flung back with an audible thunk! (Odd, that, when they were usually automatic, electronic and utterly silent).

"Neville, have you seen my intern?" demanded Dicey Reilly.

(Roll credits)

Edward Black walks into the bar. "Neville, give me something cheap that will get me drunk fast. I'm in a bad mood and I want to get out of it."

Edward Black walks into the bar. "Neville, give me something cheap that will get me drunk fast. I'm in a bad mood and I want to get out of it."

"I'd suggest a Wild Turkey, like Sulla's having."

Edward glances at Sen. Sulla, then back at Dr. Hodz. "Yeah, all right."

Edward glances at Sen. Sulla, then back at Dr. Hodz. "Yeah, all right."

"Why are we searching so hard for alternative fuels when we have this stuff right in front of us?" said The Blue Eyed Man jokingly to Dr. Hodz

Wolfgang's ears perked up at The Blue Eyed Man's comment. "Or Management could collect the hot air generated by the assembly to heat water into steam and use that to run turbines!"

OOC: Or they could use the cheese from that joke, as there's an abundance of it. I'm tired. Leave me alone! :D

The Wolf Guardians;12663051']Wolfgang's ears perked up at The Blue Eyed Man's comment. "Or Management could collect the hot air generated by the assembly to heat water into steam and use that to run turbines!"

OOC: Or they could use the cheese from that joke, as there's an abundance of it. I'm tired. Leave me alone! :D

The Blue Eyed Man laughed and said: "We should tell Management about that, it would save a fortune"

The Wolf Guardians;12641008']"Welcome back to us, Mister Fasiano. Have a nice time?" Wolfgang asked, as he discreetly passed Dr. Holtz, his PET scanning whatever it was that he'd drank. He then told the device to construct item 079831047. A vial materialized, standing on the screen. "Here." He handed it to Sammy. The nanobots in the liquid would recharge his brain, so to speak. And they'd probably hang around and make sure the rest of him worked fine. He'd feel great for a long, long time. Wolfgang smirked to himself as he sat next to Sammy and continued with his drink."Er ... ?" Sammy uttered as he heard the friendly voice behind him. Wearily he turned, his head still aching as his blurred vision momentarily focused to bring Wolfgang into view. "Uh, thanks," he said gratefully as he grabbed whatever concoction it was that was being offered him, trying to ignore the suggestive glance from the pretty Gobbannian woman just a few stools down. Though the blackout had impeded his judgment somewhat, the envoy was careful to examine the substance before he drank it. Wolfgang's last "present" had brought about some undesired consequences, but thankfully Sammy's natural inclination to fear the Greeks even when bearing gifts had survived whatever blow his senses had taken. Eh, what the heck? he thought as he raised the vial to his lips.

It was just then that Avaya's terrifying tone and whip across the countertop startled him. The container fell from his weakening grasp and shattered on the floor as the ambassador turned to behold his Mistress, clad just as she had been in his "dream," and bearing a gaze of domineering satisfaction in her strangely uncovered countenance, lusciously flowing dark hair and all, as she angrily commanded him to follow. "Uhh, yes, my Mistress?" he murmured tentatively as he trailed off after her, still not understanding anything, still embarrassed at his half-nakedness, not wanting to be rude to Wolfgang, and yet, not wanting to bear the terrible fruit of refusal to Obey.

"What the hell is going on?!" he demanded as they made their way out the of the bar. "Where are we going? Where have I been this last month? Why can't I remember anything? Why aren't I wearing any clothes? Why would Cdr. Chiang want to punish George like that (ewwww)! Why are you acting so oddly? And for God's sake, why are you dressed like that??!!" At least, that's what he would have asked, if Avaya wasn't holding the riding crop. All that eventually came out was "I like boobies."

He quickly darted past Avaya as Dicey's shudder-inducing scream rang out from the bar.

Of course, if [Neville] had [followed] he would have heard the penitent whisper: "Oh, Sammy, darling, I'm afraid I've been rather a naughty girl.""I can see that! Heh-heh," Sammy sang mischievously as he considered her ensemble once more, and, just in case, raising his arms to guard his face against whatever punishment the remark may bring.



"... uhh, are we stopping by my office by any chance? I know I have some clothes there! ..."

OOC: Nice dodge, lol.

IC: Wolfgang watched as the nanobot cloud dispersed. Okay, so a few delegates would unknowingly feel quite well for quite some time without their knowing instead of just the one. Meh, he shrugged as the fragments of the vial holographically disintegrated. He'd gotten a new project - to design a collection and turbine system for the GA. He continued his sketching on his PET. It also occurred to him this might not be solely a mechanical problem. "We could pass legislation requiring every delegate to talk a half hour each day all at once to power us for the rest of the day!"

The Plutonian ambassador nervously entered and stammered. "Um...so...I heard that we got telegrams telling us that we have to, like, follow the new laws? But does that mean only the ones that have passed since we joined? Because that would mean, like, we would have a voice in all the laws influencing us, which would be...cool. So...thanks. Yeah."

He leaned against a wall. The speech had drained him.

Edward turns around. "Ash far ash I know, ya hafta folla all the You Enn's loz, not just the wunz that past after ya joined."

The Plutonian ambassador nervously entered and stammered. "Um...so...I heard that we got telegrams telling us that we have to, like, follow the new laws? But does that mean only the ones that have passed since we joined? Because that would mean, like, we would have a voice in all the laws influencing us, which would be...cool. So...thanks. Yeah."

He leaned against a wall. The speech had drained him.

The Blue Eyed Man waved over to the Plutonian Ambassador "Hey! welcome to the NS UN Stranger's Bar!"

Jinella Agaranth walked in and seated herself at the bar, plainly unamused and muttering the word "ridiculous" under her breath. She waved to Neville. "Something strong, please. I'm not sure I care what, at this point."

"Why are we searching so hard for alternative fuels when we have this stuff right in front of us?" said The Blue Eyed Man jokingly to Dr. Hodz

At that suggestion, Dr. Hodz grabs Edward Black's Wild Turkey, pulls out a lighter and sets the liquor on fire. It burns for at least a minute.

"That must be 200 octane or something. I wonder if it would power an airplane? Jeez!"

Dr. Hodz pours the burning liquid onto the floor. The flames lick up again but a gnome with a fire extinguisher walks in, spoiling the fun.

Dr. Hodz looks around the room quickly, then grabs the fire extinguisher and hits the gnome with it. Then he swings it around and lets it fly across the bar, wondering what poor soul it hit. A scream could be heard, as well as the "FOOSH" of carbon dioxide being released.

Dr. Hodz walked over to Wolfgang and looked over his shoulder at Wolfgang's PET.

"What kinda PET is that? A Commodore PET? I got myself a PDA and MacBook, but, uh... Look, what is that?" He asked.

Jinella Agaranth walked in and seated herself at the bar, plainly unamused and muttering the word "ridiculous" under her breath. She waved to Neville. "Something strong, please. I'm not sure I care what, at this point."

"You should definitely try a Wild Turkey.

"Oh, and I'm Dr. Hodz, the ORIGINAL UN doctor. Woot."

"You should definitely try a Wild Turkey.

"Oh, and I'm Dr. Hodz, the ORIGINAL UN doctor. Woot."

"Good to meet you, doctor. I'm Jinella Agaranth, and I think I'll take that doctor's advice of yours to heart," Jinella said. "Make my beverage one of those Wild Turkey things, please," she said to Neville.

"I'd be careful of those," says Devon as she walks in. "One of those got Edward so drunk he actually thinks he can debate the UNFA! Anyone want to place a bet on how long until he's back here?"

"I'd be careful of those," says Devon as she walks in. "One of those got Edward so drunk he actually thinks he can debate the UNFA! Anyone want to place a bet on how long until he's back here?"

"I'll bet a round of drinks that it'll be within half an hour. At most," Jinella said. "I couldn't stick around any longer."

"I'd be careful of those," says Devon as she walks in. "One of those got Edward so drunk he actually thinks he can debate the UNFA! Anyone want to place a bet on how long until he's back here?"

"Oh, well. I'm not one to bet, though it seems Ms. Agaranth is."

"I'll bet a round of drinks that it'll be within half an hour. At most," Jinella said. "I couldn't stick around any longer."
"You're on."

"You're on."

"Excellent," Jinella said, pressing a button on her communications device to begin a countdown. She then took a big swig off her drink, went pop-eyed for a brief second, then swallowed it down.

Minister Yuri Polpovich walked into the Strangers bar and sat down at a booth, he ordered a glass of flaming whiskey and quickly gulped it down. He had hastely drafted a proposal on electronic monitoring and he hated it, it was too confusing in his opinion, but the Federal President had told him to post it anyway. Orders are orders.


He ordered another drink...

At that suggestion, Dr. Hodz grabs Edward Black's Wild Turkey, pulls out a lighter and sets the liquor on fire. It burns for at least a minute.

"That must be 200 octane or something. I wonder if it would power an airplane? Jeez!"

Dr. Hodz pours the burning liquid onto the floor. The flames lick up again but a gnome with a fire extinguisher walks in, spoiling the fun.

Dr. Hodz looks around the room quickly, then grabs the fire extinguisher and hits the gnome with it. Then he swings it around and lets it fly across the bar, wondering what poor soul it hit. A scream could be heard, as well as the "FOOSH" of carbon dioxide being released.

Dr. Hodz walked over to Wolfgang and looked over his shoulder at Wolfgang's PET.

"What kinda PET is that? A Commodore PET? I got myself a PDA and MacBook, but, uh... Look, what is that?" He asked.

"Isn't commodore a military rank of some kind?" Wolfgang mumbled. He held the device towards the doctor. "Personal Electronic Thing. They gave up on trying to give it a more descriptive name. It's personal. It's electronic. It's a thing. It does stuff. Lots and lots and lots of stuff. Every single Citizen in the Commonwealth has one." He gave it a silent command and it created another drink, standing on the screen, which Wolfgang proceeded to drink. It was actually alcoholic, for once. Bloody anti-evolution theorists trying to repeal things they shouldn't. It was giving him a headache.

OOC: The idea is from the game Starship Titanic, from which I also ripped off the Starship Titanic of Guardian Cruise Lines. The player had a "Personal Electronic Thingie" with which to communicate with the characters in the game.

Ardchoilleans;12659797']The louvred half-doors were flung back with an audible thunk! (Odd, that, when they were usually automatic, electronic and utterly silent).

"Neville, have you seen my intern?" demanded Dicey Reilly.

(Roll credits)

"Hasn't just about everybody here seen her?" Harry McWabbit remarked, in a warm tone: "Not as gorgeous as you, Dicey-darling, but... not bad!"

(and a chorus of whistles from various corners of the room indicated that a number of other Wabbits who were [invisibly] present agreed with his judgement...)

OOC: Hang about, Harve, With ya in a minute. IC:
"... uhh, are we stopping by my office by any chance? I know I have some clothes there! ..."

“Oooh, yes!” Avaya agreed enthusiastically. She had fond memories of Sammy’s office.

The girl positively galloped the rest of the way, hissing in annoyance as Sammy fumbled the security code, pushing past him to plant her (remarkably fetching, now it was discernible) rear in Sammy’s very own chair, crossing her booted feet on top of his very own desk.

“I hope you don’t mind, it’s the only way I can get them unfastened,” she explained. “I’m sorry I had to push in front of you like that, but, honestly, I couldn’t wait to get them off.”

She leant forward to deal with the zippers on her boots. Very far forward.

“Sammy, I hope you’re not angry,” she added, noting her follower staring obsessively at her and (either by choice or inability) not saying a word. She glanced up from under her eyelashes. “Oh, dear, you might want to spank me, mightn’t you?”

The noise Sammy made could have been reassurance, could have been, “Whatever gave you that idea?”, or could have been the strangled gasp of a person still coming to terms with increasingly alarming memories of his lost weeks. Avaya, flicking him a (possibly) flirtatious glance, apparently took it as reassurance and hurried on.

“You see, dearest, it’s my uncle Philippe. And Mama, of course. You remember, back at your party, you were just showing me how to fasten some of those silly straps, and all of a sudden I vanished? Well, they just up and teleported me home. Without even asking!”

She pouted, and Sammy made that noise again.

"They said they’d brought me back home to tell me I wasn't allowed to carry on with a Kennyite. They said ... let's see ... 'Kennyite policies are flat-out insane, Kennyite politics make chimpanzees mating in a mudbath look classy, and Kennyites themselves are about a smart as a box of hair and somewhat less attractive.' And I explained how quite a few Kennyi ... I mean, most Kennyites are reasonable and intelligent, just like you. But then they started going on about what I was wearing! I mean, I know it wasn’t what I’d normally wear, but I thought it looked quite attractive ...”

Avaya/pout. Sammy/noise.

“So I told them we were engaged.” Avaya looked worriedly at the young diplomat. “I know we’re not, not really, Sammy, but they made me so mad! And then I teleported myself straight back to my apartment to pack a bag and move out, because I wasn’t going to live in a place they paid for any longer, and they’d already locked it! With a Level 10 ward, no less! So I couldn’t get my clothes, and when I went back to the party you were gone! They’d made you DISAPPEAR! And it was All My Fault!”

The girl’s eyes glistened as she recalled the anxiety of those weeks. “I couldn’t find you anywhere! And Dicey was in that PINA interview, and then she went to ground for ages, and Mama and Uncle Philippe blocked my mind-mail, so I couldn’t get help. But today, when I woke up, there was this message in my head from Dicey to go to the Strangers’ Bar at 10am. And there you were.”

She gave Sammy a brave little smile. Somehow, to the commitment-sensitive eye, it had ominous overtones of And Then They Lived Happily Ever After.

"I'd be careful of those," says Devon as she walks in. "One of those got Edward so drunk he actually thinks he can debate the UNFA! Anyone want to place a bet on how long until he's back here?"

"i'll bet all the money in my pockets thats it's no more than 20 minutes."said The Blue Eyed Man to Devon.

The Wolf Guardians;12666792']"Isn't commodore a military rank of some kind?" Wolfgang mumbled. He held the device towards the doctor. "Personal Electronic Thing. They gave up on trying to give it a more descriptive name. It's personal. It's electronic. It's a thing. It does stuff. Lots and lots and lots of stuff. Every single Citizen in the Commonwealth has one." He gave it a silent command and it created another drink, standing on the screen, which Wolfgang proceeded to drink. It was actually alcoholic, for once. Bloody anti-evolution theorists trying to repeal things they shouldn't. It was giving him a headache.

OOC: The idea is from the game Starship Titanic, from which I also ripped off the Starship Titanic of Guardian Cruise Lines. The player had a "Personal Electronic Thingie" with which to communicate with the characters in the game.

"Oh, okay. I was curious. I'm rather big into technology. And commodore is a military rank, but that seems irrelevant, because I don't hold that rank, only the head of state of Akimonad, Daniel Heusen, does. I'm just a doctor of Political Sciences. Just plain, old Doctor Julius Hodz."

"i'll bet all the money in my pockets thats it's no more than 20 minutes."said The Blue Eyed Man to Devon.

"Somehow I get the feeling that you don't have a lot of money in your pockets."

OOC: Of course, it's all rigged, as New Anonia can make him appear at any time.

"Oh, okay. I was curious. I'm rather big into technology. And commodore is a military rank, but that seems irrelevant, because I don't hold that rank, only the head of state of Akimonad, Daniel Heusen, does. I'm just a doctor of Political Sciences. Just plain, old Doctor Julius Hodz."

"Of PoliSci, eh?" Wolfgang jotted a note in the PET in question. "We're technofiles, ourselves. We've actually been seen as a technological utopia by some, because of how symbiotic we are with our technology.

The Wolf Guardians;12668090']"Of PoliSci, eh?" Wolfgang jotted a note in the PET in question. "We're technophiles, ourselves. We've actually been seen as a technological utopia by some, because of how symbiotic we are with our technology.

"Well, I'm getting there. You should see my office. It has a lot of recent technology. One of Akimonad's big corporations, AircaBell Corp, has a large technology division. I order everything from the CEO personally. I'm pretty sure that the R & D department is employed to make me new stuff. Or maybe that's selfish, but whatever."

Ardchoilleans;12667798']OOC: Hang about, Harve, With ya in a minute.

OOC: So she can't tell the brothers, Harry and Harvey, apart? Hmmm... ;)

Edward walks in the bar. "Another Wild Turkey, barkeep."

Devon looks around. "So that was, two hours and ten minutes? Looks like nobody wins!"

OOC: She wasn't looking directly at him. How can you tell Invisible Wabbits apart if you don't look directly at 'em?

IC: “Neville, have you seen my intern?” demanded Dicey Reilly.

"Hasn't just about everybody here seen her?" Harry McWabbit remarked, in a warm tone: "Not as gorgeous as you, Dicey-darling, but... not bad!"

(and a chorus of whistles from various corners of the room indicated that a number of other Wabbits who were [invisibly] present agreed with his judgement...)

Dicey raised her eyebrows at the empty barstool; she wouldn’t have thought her cloth-shrouded intern was that attractive, but still ... Wabbits ... yeah ... well, they’re still basically rabbits, and you know what they say about rabbits ... abandoning that line of thought, she turned crossly to Neville. “Come on, spill: have you seen her?”

“Ah ... why do you ask, Dice?” said the BarLord. If Dicey didn’t know what Avaya was up to, he certainly wasn’t going to sic her onto the kid while she was in this sort of mood.

“Because I’m trying to dodge her,” said Dicey, looking harried. “Honestly, Neville, I get back from ... where I was ... this morning, and my inbox is stuffed with messages! Apparently she’s suffered some sort of conversion, and now she thinks the magic nations should be Loud and Proud. And she can’t wait to tell me how.”

She shifted uneasily, suddenly struck by everyone’s odd reaction to her question. “She hasn’t been showing off magically, has she?” she asked.

“Oh, no, no,” said Neville airily. “No magic at all, no.” He sought desperately for a change of subject to get her off Avaya’s tracks. “So, tell me, Dicey, how are you bearing up at the Secretariat? Did you find out who dobbed you in?”

“Quack!” said Dicey bitterly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Quack, dammit!”

Violet, overhearing, tried a more positive approach. “Well, I bet you’ve got a nice office, at last. I hear they do themselves quite well over there.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dicey said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Quack quack and quack, quack quack bloody quack, Danish, quack, of all people. And Guinness.”

Violet’s eyes danced. “They’ve magicked her!” she said delightedly. “She can’t talk about what goes on there! She says quack whenever she tries.”

“Technically, it’s called a geas,” Dicey said frostily. “And they slapped it on me, a Firewitch, and I didn’t even see it coming! The minute I quack quack oh damn!”

It was the first of many damns. And quacks. Suddenly everyone was pretending interest in the most mundane details of the Secretariat (“Is it true about the chartreuse curtains, Dicey?”). Just as they were running out of questions (or couldn’t get them out because they were laughing too much), somebody – Cookesland*? Probably. It was always Cookesland, noted Dicey -- came up with the idea of supplying their own interpretation of the quacks.

“What’s that, Lassie – I mean, Dicey?” (Quack!) “Fris sacrifices goats (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12653401&postcount=5), you say?” (Quack, quack.) “Oh, goat’s cheese! Well, who’da thunk it!”

Violet refilled Dicey’s glass. “It could've been worse,” she consoled. “It could've been Moo!"

“Or Squee!” Dicey agreed. Apparently being laughed at by a bar full of people for twenty minutes had restored her good humour. “There’s one thing I can tell you, though, Violet.” She leant confidentially towards the barmaid.

”The quack, y’know? What they say is true. It really doesn’t echo."

*Nerny-ner. Sez you. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12662699&postcount=1832)

Edward walks in the bar. "Another Wild Turkey, barkeep."

Devon looks around. "So that was, two hours and ten minutes? Looks like nobody wins!"

"I'll still buy a round of drinks for everyone, though," Jinella said. "That way, no one really loses, either..."

Ardchoilleans;12668389'] Just as they were running out of questions (or couldn’t get them out because they were laughing too much), somebody – Cookesland*? Probably. It was always Cookesland, noted Dicey -- came up with the idea of supplying their own interpretation of the quacks.

“What’s that, Lassie – I mean, Dicey?” (Quack!) “Fris sacrifices goats (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12653401&postcount=5), you say?” (Quack, quack.) “Oh, goat’s cheese! Well, who’da thunk it!”

*Nerny-ner. Sez you. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12662699&postcount=1832)

ooc: hey! :p

Edward walks in the bar. "Another Wild Turkey, barkeep."

Devon looks around. "So that was, two hours and ten minutes? Looks like nobody wins!"

Darn i would have won 500 Pieros!

Edward walks in the bar. "Another Wild Turkey, barkeep."

Dr. Hodz looks at Wolfgang.

"Oh, dear. That delegate from New Ammonia is back. I wonder what that high-octane liquor did to him."

Dr. Hodz then lobs his Zippo lighter at Edward, watch as it ignites and lands in Edward's inflammable liquor. The liquor flares up.

Another gnome with a fire extinguisher wanders in.

Dr. Hodz shifts his attention back to Wolfgang.

"So, how many times have you died? Eleven?

"I wouldn't enjoy that sort of thing."

"So, how many times have you died? Eleven?

"I wouldn't enjoy that sort of thing."

"You must understand," Wolfgang explained, "that I have never really died. When I first got started here, I found the goings on rather cripplingly stupid, and I thus released the pressure in a satisfying way, viz shooting myself. Holographic effect, mind you. Not that it feels good, but it certainly won't do permanent harm." He drew out the holopistol, making a show of spinning it about quite expertly to extend it grip first towards the good Doctor. "It's really quite therapeutic. You should try it."

Edward looks at his glass. "Maybe I'll go with coffee...."

The Wolf Guardians;12669877']"You should try it."

"No, no, no thanks. I've heard about your antics and incidents with Mr. "Pantsless" Faisano. I think I'll pass. Besides, I can get a holopistol anytime. Our office has an armory."

**********

UN Deputy Ambassador Harpo (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y87/fahooglewitz1077/harpo.png) enters the Bar.

He walks up directly behind Neville and blows his clown horn incessantly.

**********

Edward looks at his glass. "Maybe I'll go with coffee...."

That gnome with the fire extinguisher thoroughly extinguishes the fire, as well as the glass, and probably part of Edward's wardrobe. It looks like he will have to get coffee.

"No, no, no thanks. I've heard about your antics and incidents with Mr. "Pantsless" Faisano. I think I'll pass. Besides, I can get a holopistol anytime. Our office has an armory."

"Very well." He spun the pistol around and shot Edward's extinguished glass before holstering the gun with just as much show as he had withdrawn it. The glass rematerialized a second later, though it was still somehow extinguished. Wolfgang tapped a command on his computer, which constructed a new drink for the chemically-soaked Edward, and slid it down the bar to him. "On me."

"Oh, and Wolfgang, I've brought you a gift. It's a holocomputer. Basically a holographic computer that's fairly neat. You may enjoy it. Or not. Do whatever you please with it."

Dr. Hodz pauses, looking around.

"Ah, here comes the butler with it now (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/85/Aerogel_nasa.jpg)."

"Uh... ok." Wolfgang was befuddled. He placed the holographic cube on the screen of his PET, whose nanobots crawled over the thing, scanning it. A second later, the computer reached its decision and the cube disintegrated. "Huh. How 'bout that."

"Strange. That's okay, it was 99.8% air anyway. I don't know if the air was caustic, though. But anyway, I saw your PET synthesized a drink. It can do that? It reminded me of this drinks dispenser I had once... no matter what, it invariably delivers a cupful of liquid that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea. And I'm a tea fan, so I wasn't amused. 'Course it froze that one time on that experimental starship that was stolen, and after that I got rid of it. Well as the stupid ship computer. What a phony."

"Oh, ya. I think I remember reading about that somewhere. My computer decided the cube was neat, but didn't need the physical structure, so it ate it. And..." He gave the computer another command, causing the computer to materialize a brown liquid. "Quite entirely like tea. Atomically identical." Moving the drink, he gave another command, which resulted in the appearance of sugar and a slice of lemon.

"I hope this is Earl Grey" Dr. Hodz said, taking a careful sip.

"Not all that bad. That reminds be of that accursed android too. Always depressed. I wanted to defenestrate him."

OOC: On May 25, Dr. Hodz will have his towel with him.

"Whatever type you'd like. I'm not a great tea drinker, myself. Androids, per se, are not particularly common in the Commonwealth, but recently one of our comm satellites de-orbited itself (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12657644&postcount=50) because the Kennyites drove it insane. Was this android exposed to Kennyites for long periods of time?"

"Come to think of it, a Kennyite was present on the ship. His name was some car company. Ford Something. Taurus? No, that wasn't it..."

Wolfgang looked thoughtful for a moment, though he was, in fact, consulting the database of known Kennyites. "Prefect? Seems he's caused some trouble about. The records note that he is one hoopy frood, though." He grinned. "We've got the Commonwealth's RAD working on anti-Kennyite circuitry for simple devices, but the difficult part is conditioning our AIs to not go insane. They really hate that silliness, having brains the size of planets and all."

While President and former Delegate Akia Liam has always been rather level-headed and, well, something of a workaholic, the recent chaos, invasions, and power-plays plaguing the allied nations she so cherishes have driven her to an old habit she thought to have left behind: drunken dartboards. Full of rage, schemes, and a powerful need for rum, she storms into the Strangers' Bar and takes a seat.

"Barkeep, can I get two fingers of Bicardi 151, please? Make that three fingers. Ah Hells, just keep the rum flowing and bill me when I pass out."

Her Presidency downs each shot with the flair of a National Liquor Night champion and proceeds to throw darts at innocent bystanders. Not that she means to, of course. She aims for the board but has a tendency to miss brilliantly. She rarely hits her mark when she's sober, so the alcohol makes the usually harmless game much more... interesting.

Suddenly realizing she can no longer stand without assistance, Akia takes a seat and continues drowning herself while listening in on the ambient conversation.

OOC: First post here, so pardon me if I missed some protocol or another. I'll learn as I go.

*Royal Embassador to the King, Robert Banks, wanders in from a storm outside and walks over to The Honourable Akia Liam and introduces himself*

Don't worry about missing some protocal, we're all new at some point. I, myself, am new here in the NSUN.

*orders a strong tea from the bar tender and sits down by Akia Liam*

So, how are things on your side of the world?

Her Presidency contemplates this newcomer with some degree of seasickness. She mumbles something about people being considerate enough to keep each of their three heads in the same place rather than having them fly about the bar, then downs another shot and struggles to respond coherently.

"Well, yoo shee, *hic* thar's thiz.... MAN..... thiz... teshtostrun-poisoned invader who thinksss... he thinks juss cuz he waz in charrge b'fore *hic* b'fore th' allied nashuns emigrated to thuh Region of Rayne frum our prior place uv ressidense, *hic* that he shood be in charge here too. So, when I gots eclected as UN Delegate, he *hic* he strongermz evryone into thinnking me a prestensious eleetisht and appon...appun..." She takes another drink. "Appointing HIM in charge jus *hic* jus b'cause he's used to havin' power. I'm th one who knows thish place backs and frunts. He's encroaching on my turf an' turning my peoples aginst me *hic* an' I'm rally not fond of gettin in a turf warr, ev'n though sum of the peoples arr start *hic* startin to aks... nah... derMANdin me too."

Having completed this rather long bit of monologue, Akia chases down the dancing bottle of rum and pours herself and the table another round. The table, however, is forced to drink its part through osmosis seeing as its share failed to reach the shot glass. It is only after this unfortunate happening that Akia remembers that tables cannot drink alcohol.

The Wolf Guardians;12676395']"We've got the Commonwealth's RAD working on anti-Kennyite circuitry for simple devices, but the difficult part is conditioning our AIs to not go insane. They really hate that silliness, having brains the size of planets and all."

"Maybe it might just be simpler to condition them all into insansity, but in a fairly predictable and harmless way, instead?" a voice suggests helpfully out of what had seemed to be thin air...

Searching her pocket for one of her scientists' Sobriety Cure(tm) pills, Akia considers her own proposed solution for the anti-Kennyite AI problem. Finally finding one, she downs it with another shot. This succeeds in bringing her to a lesser state of drunkenness rather than being fully sober.

"Might I suggest... that you create some AI special.... specially designed to interface with the Kennyites? Only those AI de... designed to tolerate the mannerisms of the.... of the Kennyites would be permitted within a certain distance of them. That way you.... you avoid completely alienating your AI and can still conduct... whatever business you may need to conduct."

The President pouts at the emptiness of her purchased bottle of rum, disappointed at not having passed out yet, and downs another Sobriety pill with a glass of water. Fully sober now, she straightens her hair and glasses and proceeds to throw darts at the wall around the target. When one of the darts, by sheer luck, happens to hit the bullseye, she cheers herself and offers to buy the house a round in celebration.

Invisible Wabbits;12679630']"Maybe it might just be simpler to condition them all into insansity, but in a fairly predictable and harmless way, instead?" a voice suggests helpfully out of what had seemed to be thin air...

Wolfgang looked around, his enhanced eyes and ears locating the general vicinity of the speaker so as to better speak "to" the disembodied voice. "Well, most of them already are, but we need them to not kill themselves."

"Might I suggest... that you create some AI special.... specially designed to interface with the Kennyites? Only those AI de... designed to tolerate the mannerisms of the.... of the Kennyites would be permitted within a certain distance of them. That way you.... you avoid completely alienating your AI and can still conduct... whatever business you may need to conduct."

"See, the problem is, our AIs are intelligent beings, or at least we consider them to be. Thus, we can't... reprogram them, per se, we have to train them, and even outrageous amounts of training result in disaster for, say, AIs placed by necessity where they can here the goings on of the Kennyites." He turned to the delegate and extended a clawed, furred hand. "Wolfgang oh thirteen, by the way."

The Wolf Guardians;12676395']Wolfgang looked thoughtful for a moment, though he was, in fact, consulting the database of known Kennyites. "Prefect? Seems he's caused some trouble about. The records note that he is one hoopy frood, though." He grinned. "We've got the Commonwealth's RAD working on anti-Kennyite circuitry for simple devices, but the difficult part is conditioning our AIs to not go insane. They really hate that silliness, having brains the size of planets and all."

"Prefect. That was it. He did know where his towel was, though. He carried that damned dirty thing everywhere."

Dr. Hodz sipped his chocolate milk that came into being out of nowhere.

"An anti-Kennyite circuit? Well, I do know that the government sprays a substance called "gayspray" on persistent protesters, but I doubt if that'd work on droids or AI... You could create a failsafe mode that automatically restarts the AI if it detects an unsafe level of insanity... Hmm. A conundrum."

"I suppose that'd work while the AIs are insane but sane enough to know it. You should've seen Deep Thought. That thing was psychotic. We tested it by asking what six by nine was, and it told us '42.' We told it to bugger off and gave it to some pandimensional mice." He gave a command to his computer, which gave him a glass of chocolate milk to match that which the doctor had whipped up out of nowhere. Even better, something happened to make it become chocolate with milk in it. He raised the glass to toast good fortune.

The Wolf Guardians;12680794']
"See, the problem is, our AIs are intelligent beings, or at least we consider them to be. Thus, we can't... reprogram them, per se, we have to train them, and even outrageous amounts of training result in disaster for, say, AIs placed by necessity where they can here the goings on of the Kennyites." He turned to the delegate and extended a clawed, furred hand. "Wolfgang oh thirteen, by the way."
"By the Librarian! I did not intend to suggest you reprogram them! We at Intellect and Art believe that intelligence denotes sentience, and would never suggest you reprogram a perfectly personable pre-existing AI. New creations, however, are seen as acceptable, should the situation require it. I'm saying you should create a new line of AI for the sole purpose of interacting with the Kennyites. This should provide an adequate solution. If, however, you're still troubled by it, why don't you ask your AI what their solution would be? They should be more than intelligent enough to assist in the procuring of a reasonable solution. By the way, I'm Akia Liam, nice to meet you." She shakes the offered hand.

"By the Librarian! I did not intend to suggest you reprogram them! We at Intellect and Art believe that intelligence denotes sentience, and would never suggest you reprogram a perfectly personable pre-existing AI. New creations, however, are seen as acceptable, should the situation require it. I'm saying you should create a new line of AI for the sole purpose of interacting with the Kennyites. This should provide an adequate solution. If, however, you're still troubled by it, why don't you ask your AI what their solution would be? They should be more than intelligent enough to assist in the procuring of a reasonable solution. By the way, I'm Akia Liam, nice to meet you." She shakes the offered hand.

"Well..." Wolfgang chuckled. "We haven't built AIs in eons. They build their own offspring. That'd kind of be like asking them to do selective breeding. We may just have to be careful to pick the strongest AIs to send out there." He looked thoughtful for a second, then cocked his head to one side. "Who is the 'Librarian'?"

OOC: 400 posts! Woot!

Not at all surprised at the man's inquiry, Akia straightens her glasses and proclaims with pride, "The Librarian is chosen amongst the nation's intellectual elite to be the guardian and protector of all knowledge from all cultures around the globe. The Librarian is the defender of truth, the keeper of history, and the champion of historical treasures from lore and legend. The Librarian knows all that can be known by any and all. Our inspiration, our hero, and our finest citizen. The Librarian is the greatest of all sentients and shall never compromise the sanctity of fact, ensuring that all generations shall have the privlege of knowing all that came before them with absolute certainty and the freedom to challenge the unknown." The President lifts a glass of rum in tribute to the Librarian and downs it with haste.


OOC: for the RL "Librarian" and inspiration for the Librarian of my country, click here (http://www.tnt.tv/title/?oid=543783)

"Hmm... That rather sounds like the Guardian AI. It connects all other AIs and devices and their users together. Most of our AIs are rather minor, intelligent, but not really moreso than us. The Network, though, is the most intelligent thing we know. We think it actually evolved from several AIs joining across our data network."

Sir Robert Banks sets down his tea and turns to the delegates deep in conversation about AI technology.

"Honourable delegates, please forgive my ignorance; what is, or are, the "AI" that the current discussion has close regards to?"

Sir Robert Banks sets down his tea and turns to the delegates deep in conversation about AI technology.

"Honourable delegates, please forgive my ignorance; what is, or are, the "AI" that the current discussion has close regards to?"


"Artificial Intelligence is the AI their talking about i think." said The Blue Eyed Man, "Of course, it could be Amnesty International or Alien Invasion..." he quickly added perplexed himself.

Anravelle wandered into the bar, head deep in a book... though not in the strictly normal sense. Each page was being lovingly caressed against her cheeks, every facet being memorised. It’s finished, I’ve finally done it.

Taking a seat (and one last giddy smell), she sent a quick thought to her implants and within seconds a blue energy whisked the book away to transcendental dimensions unknown. Reading the words could wait; it was time to celebrate.

“May we,” she chuckled, “sorry, not used to just being ‘me’ here. May I order a bottle of Moon Tears please?” holding the fizzing clear liquid to the light she closed her eyes and gulped it down. A shudder ran through her body.

In a few minutes she’d have the confidence to join in; gnomes, and invisible rabbits weren’t her usual company. However, very drunk Heads of State were.

"Artificial Intelligence is the AI their talking about i think." said The Blue Eyed Man, "Of course, it could be Amnesty International or Alien Invasion..." he quickly added perplexed himself.
"Where I come from," said Devon, "it means Badger Ulysses. But where I come from is weird."

Dr. Hodz toasted his milk similar. Then he had some sort of epiphany.

"I was looking at new weapons the other day and noticed a railgun that fired projectiles that "ignored" shields. Could you program your AIs to ignore Kenny? Or just tell them that Kenny doesn't exist, and any twinklings of Kenny should be regarded as insane, activating the aforementioned failsafe?"

He sipped his milk again. It was Derivative Soda™ Chocolate Milk, manufactured in Akimonad.

"As nice as it would be to be able to do so, I feel safer when the Kennyites are in plain sight. If we ignore them, we can't keep an eye on them. Hmm... we could construct an almost-but-not-quite-true-AI for that. Something that can't go insane because it has no actual mind to go insane. And program it to alert us only if something bad happens. I wonder if RAD's thought of that. They like to make things bloody complicated."

"Where I come from," said Devon, "it means Badger Ulysses. But where I come from is weird."


Oh cool, i don't think it's that weird. Then again we are at the UN, and some of the stuff that happens here...

The Wolf Guardians;12685596']"As nice as it would be to be able to do so, I feel safer when the Kennyites are in plain sight. If we ignore them, we can't keep an eye on them. Hmm... we could construct an almost-but-not-quite-true-AI for that. Something that can't go insane because it has no actual mind to go insane. And program it to alert us only if something bad happens. I wonder if RAD's thought of that. They like to make things bloody complicated."
"Have you ever considered restricting the Kennyites' interactions to those with actual human beings?"

"Have you ever considered restricting the Kennyites' interactions to those with actual human beings?"

"I don't... " Wolfgang looks down at himself. Yes, he certainly appeared to be an anthropomorphic wolf, only fractionally human. [OOC: hint, hint :D] That can't be what the delegate meant. "Er...We'd rather not. Our AIs are superior intellects. If they've had problems, we would, too."

OOC: My apologies for that...not in the best of brain spaces today

IC: "Yes, but studies have shown that organic sentients are 83.6% more tolerant of and adaptable to unusual and/or outlandish characteristics displayed by other sentients. Silliness and the ability to deal with it while maintaining a degree of sanity is simply easier for the organic brain than the mechanical."

OOC: She CAN dodge species modifiers! hehe

OOC: I've had quite the scatterbrained day, too. Very silly day.

IC: "Studies also show that 91.3 percent of statistics are made up on the spot, you know." Wolfgang giggled. "Meh, I think dumb computers is the way to go. I seriously bet RAD hasn't thought of it, though. I'll have to call them later."

OOC: Pardon me while I go beat the tar out of my mostly nonfunctional air conditioner. It's like 75F in this place. Someday, I'm going to move to northern Alaska or someplace where I don't need one. That'll learn it. [/more scatterbrainedness]

The Wolf Guardians;12688290']Wolfgang giggled. "Meh, I think dumb computers is the way to go. I seriously bet RAD hasn't thought of it, though. I'll have to call them later."

The computer has instructed us to odject to that statement.

Wolfgang looked about for the voice that hadn't identified itself, and decided to respond to the room in general. "I don't know how you 'odject' to anything, but there is a difference between 'smart' and 'dumb' computers, at least in the Commonwealth. An alarm clock: dumb, simple computer. My PET: highly intelligent, complex computer. I was suggesting the use of a non-sentient AI for whatever it was. CommComm sats over the Kennyites, I think."

Anravelle hesitantly decided to interject, she wasn’t quite tipsy enough yet,

“Well… we… err… that is to say Ithania had a similar problem with them being too intelligent so we made agreed with the Sentient Intelligent that we’d provide all the resources she ever needs if she constructs RI… that is to say… Restricted Intelligence computers,” by this point her face was a deep shade of scarlet and returning back to silence was tempting, “Umm… maybe my delegation could procure some for you? ”

Staring at the floor suddenly seemed like the best option.

Anravelle hesitantly decided to interject, she wasn’t quite tipsy enough yet,

“Well… we… err… that is to say Ithania had a similar problem with them being too intelligent so we made agreed with the Sentient Intelligent that we’d provide all the resources she ever needs if she constructs RI… that is to say… Restricted Intelligence computers,” by this point her face was a deep shade of scarlet and returning back to silence was tempting, “Umm… maybe my delegation could procure some for you? ”

Staring at the floor suddenly seemed like the best option to her.

Raversalism is used to be ignored, and also used to hawking goods in a crowded full of people shouting.
"
You selling hardware? The computer has already instructed our country to start trading with other soverighn nations in the NSUN in International Credits. How many of those would you want for a bottom of the line PC? We'll do clean installs, so we're not interested in paying for any software bundles.
"

~~~~

Anravelle hesitantly decided to interject, she wasn’t quite tipsy enough yet,

“Well… we… err… that is to say Ithania had a similar problem with them being too intelligent so we made agreed with the Sentient Intelligent that we’d provide all the resources she ever needs if she constructs RI… that is to say… Restricted Intelligence computers,” by this point her face was a deep shade of scarlet and returning back to silence was tempting, “Umm… maybe my delegation could procure some for you? ”

Staring at the floor suddenly seemed like the best option to her.

Raversalism perks up at this.
"
We had the opposite problem. The organic population still outnumbers the sentient silicon live in the Free Land Of Discoraversalim, but we let the AI participate in the standards writing process. We require every machine be networked, and every networked device is an oracle through which The Computer Speaks. Mind you, it's often speaking through a low priority spam channel...
"

Anravelle hesitantly decided to interject, she wasn’t quite tipsy enough yet,

“Well… we… err… that is to say Ithania had a similar problem with them being too intelligent so we made agreed with the Sentient Intelligent that we’d provide all the resources she ever needs if she constructs RI… that is to say… Restricted Intelligence computers,” by this point her face was a deep shade of scarlet and returning back to silence was tempting, “Umm… maybe my delegation could procure some for you? ”

Staring at the floor suddenly seemed like the best option.

"Thanks, but I think we'll manage. We didn't always have an AI in every bloody machine. We'll just have to do it old-school."

Just then, Kyle, the Guardian pup, opened a Doorway and stepped into the Bar from DEFCON.

"Hi, Kyle. Something wrong at DEFCON?"

"No, it just got boring." He hopped up onto a barstool and ordered a chocolate milk. "Besides, the Bar is a neater place than that silly Death Star."

The Wolf Guardians;12688290']
OOC: Pardon me while I go beat the tar out of my mostly nonfunctional air conditioner.

OOC: Well, if your A/C has tar in it, that's probably why it doesn't work. :D

IC: Seeing Kyle walk in, Dr. Hodz immediately recognized him from what Major Boothroyd at DEFCON had told him. Maj. Boothroyd had also asked Dr. Hodz to "fix his li'l questions right proper." Whatever the heck that meant.

Dr. Hodz spoke to Kyle. "I understand you're a little confused as to our governmental protocols or something. Care to tell me exactly what, so that I may explain proper?"

Dr. Hodz downed the rest of his chocolate milk (Man, was it good) and immediately got another one.

OOC: Well, if your A/C has tar in it, that's probably why it doesn't work. :D

IC: Seeing Kyle walk in, Dr. Hodz immediately recognized him from what Major Boothroyd at DEFCON had told him. Maj. Boothroyd had also asked Dr. Hodz to "fix his li'l questions right proper." Whatever the heck that meant.

Dr. Hodz spoke to Kyle. "I understand you're a little confused as to our governmental protocols or something. Care to tell me exactly what, so that I may explain proper?"

Dr. Hodz downed the rest of his chocolate milk (Man, was it good) and immediately got another one.

"Er..." He zoned out for a minute while he mentally checked his computer recordings to find out what the man was talking about. The computer told him that this was Dr. Hodz of Akimonad. Akimonad. Akimonad? He cross-referenced this. That was it. That was weeks ago. Huh. "Oh, I was wondering why prisoners were being used for work or something like that." He had mentally filed that under 'cultural differences' and lain it to rest, but it couldn't hurt to learn more.

"Somebody's plotting against the Kennyites again," said Violet, vigorously and pointedly cleaning the counter in front of Neville as he gazed lazily at Cdr Chiang.

"O Rly?"

"Well, you're supposed to be interested!" She followed the direction of his gaze. "Neville, you're not going to dob them in to Chiang, are you?"

"Of course not!" he said indignantly. "What sort of Bar would it be if the customers couldn't trust us!" He considered. "Tell you what, though, Vi ... we could give 'em free drinks. If the Kennyites notice, we'll be in good with them because we can say we were trying to get 'em too drunk to plot. If the plotters notice, well, they'll think we're secretly in sympathy. And if nobody notices --"

"Then we're down the price of all the free drinks. Really, Neville!"

Neville was crestfallen. Dammit, why did people have to keep on meanly applying logic to his great ideas? He tried to bury himself in the latest Acme Industries catalogue, but Violet was still bugging him.

" ... and I think the Discoraversalism computer's about to take on the Wolf Guardians' computer."

"Take it on? Like, play chess, or something?"

"No, like ..." Violet waved her hands in frustration at trying to express the concept of computers having a bar-room brawl.

"Ah," said Neville, his BarLordian instincts coming to the rescue. "I see. Can't have that, can we? AI to AI, brain to brain, materialisation to materialisation ... God knows what it'd do to the mainframe of reality." He thought hard for a moment, then began to scribble rapidly. "Here. Take these over to their reps."

"But Neville, these are just Bar bills."

"Yes, but they're urgent Bar bills. See, I've said we'll suspend services unless they're paid instantly. So naturally the reps will turn to the computers to pay 'em, because after all, what could be more vital than the next drink?"

Violet looked puzzled. Neville smiled patronisingly.

"Think, Violet! Has there ever been a time, anywhere, in the entire history of the Universe, when someone's got on the computer to do something really, really urgent and important, and the computer hasn't instantly gone on the fritz? Of course not! Computers know! They save up their glitches until it's something really vital! And a glitched computer is a quiet computer; QED!"

There were times Violet wished she'd stuck with law school.

Wolfgang, having heard the word 'Guardians' had tuned his acute hearing in that direction. Ha! he thought. It'd take a boatload of Kennyites to crash my computer!

OOC: Say, just how the heck do we pay for these things? Does the Bar just take any form of physical or electronic credit? Or do I need my CommonWealth MasterCard?

The Wolf Guardians;12690651']"Oh, I was wondering why prisoners were being used for work or something like that."

Well, they don't like rotting in jail, and we don't like that either, so we put them to work. They enjoy it. But some of them think they're going to get paid. They're in jail, though; why should we pay them? What would they buy?

OOC: Say, just how the heck do we pay for these things? Does the Bar just take any form of physical or electronic credit? Or do I need my CommonWealth MasterCard?

OOC: I'll pay with my VISA (http://nationstates.net/VISA_Corp) card. Since that's my puppet.

Well, they don't like rotting in jail, and we don't like that either, so we put them to work. They enjoy it. But some of them think they're going to get paid. They're in jail, though; why should we pay them? What would they buy?

"Oh, well... our few prisoners spend time learning not to be criminals. They don't... 'rot'. And they have credit, too. It just seemed like the guys I saw weren't being treated very nice."

*meekly*bump?

The Blue Eyed Man looked around and said, " Sooooo, hows the weather everyone?"

Wolfgang opened a Doorway to the Commonwealth, and stuck his head through it. He stepped back out of it a minute later, completely drenched. "A bit damp in the Commonwealth, it seems."

"Don't shaaaak--!" yelled Violet.

Too late. Nearby patrons were drenched before Wolfgang's ruff was dry enough to satisfy his discriminating standards.*

Reaching for the mop, Neville hoped the various computers in the room, sapient or otherwise, were not too sensitive to liquid.

"So, I hear there've been ... developments," he said. It was always a safe statement in the Bar. Amazing, the gossip he learned that way!

*(OOC: Am not godmoding! :) How else would a wolf get dry?)

Wolfgang laughed outright. He always enjoyed that. Back home, he'd have used one of the giant blow-driers built into the ceilings of every bathroom in the Commonwealth, but one has to make do with what they have. "I do believe you've left your question awfully open-ended, Mister Neville. Hmm... what falls under 'developments'... Oh, the Pacifica is almost ready for launch." The Commonwealth Spook who'd been hanging about for a few months cleared his throat loudly. "Oh, piss off. The damn thing's huge. It's not even really 'classified' anymore," he called to the nonchalant-looking wolf. "Don't you think so?" he asked Neville.

"Well, it's always cold in Akimonad, being in the Antarctic. But I'm not going to open up a portal there 'cause I don't think people would enjoy it."

Dr. Hodz did it for kicks anyway.

Cold air and snow blew in all over the place, frosting a good portion of the bar.

"Hee hee hee."

Wolfgang, being a furred beast, loved the cold, and went and stood next to Doctor Hodz as he exposed the Bar to the elements. At least I didn't make this much mess, he thought with a grin.

Dr. Hodz watched the little canine and contemplated throwing it out the door. He decided not to, though.

OOC: Is... is he watching Kyle? Wolfgang's like seven feet tall, almost. Not that I think I've mentioned it before. And what's with the angst against the little guy? :p

wait... "it"? Grrr...

*dukes it out with the Author of Akimonad*

[/continuity error]

IC:
Wolfgang resumed his seat at the Bar. "So... I've said what's up in the Commonwealth... Nothing's up anywhere else?" He looked around. "Nothing exciting at all? Anyone?"

"There are elections going on in Paradica," says Edward absentmindedly, "I think...."

Akia checks her cell phone that's been ringing for the past day and a half without her attention. Puzzled, she checks her now overflowing voice mail to discover that nearly every allied nation has been phoning her with complaints, congratulations, and requests for assistance.

"Well...this is interesting....how exactly did I manage to get re-elected to Delegate without my knowledge or participation? I must remember to telegram my associate from Sith Pastries. He may or may not have had something to do with this."

He may or may not have had something to do with this."
"Well, those are the two possible options." Wolfgang chuckled.

Dr. Hodz's PDA/PET type thingy beeped. He pulled it out and read a message.

News alert: Regional delegate selection currently in process. They're doing some "Amazing Race" type contest. Stay alert.

"Oh gods."

He grabbed Wolfgang's holopistol. "Gimme that" he yelled, shooting himself in the head.
_______________

Dr. Hodz simulated death count: 1

Dr. Hodz's PDA/PET type thingy beeped. He pulled it out and read a message.



"Oh gods."

He grabbed Wolfgang's holopistol. "Gimme that" he yelled, shooting himself in the head.
_______________

Dr. Hodz simulated death count: 1

"Uh, should i get the Mop and Bucket or just let it be?" said The Blue Eyed Man, wiping a piece of the late Dr. Hodz's brain away from his drink.

"Uh, should i get the Mop and Bucket or just let it be?" said The Blue Eyed Man, wiping a piece of the late Dr. Hodz's brain away from his drink.

Wolfgang reached down to pick up the pistol. "Wait for it..." he said, watching Hodz's head reconstitute itself. "For future reference, please ask." He sent a command to his PET, which constructed a "stealth" holopistol, a smaller version of his, which he handed to Hodz. "Here. Keep it."

The Wolf Guardians;12720075']Wolfgang reached down to pick up the pistol. "Wait for it..." he said, watching Hodz's head reconstitute itself. "For future reference, please ask." He sent a command to his PET, which constructed a "stealth" holopistol, a smaller version of his, which he handed to Hodz. "Here. Keep it."

Whoa! thats.................whoa!

"Holographic Simulated Destruction pistol." He sent the command again, generating another holopistol, which he handed to The Blue-Eyed Man. "Compliments of the Commonwealth. Don't worry, either. Nothing can kill you in the bar, that I know of. Have fun with that. It'll stun the hell out of its victim, but does no permanent harm whatsoever."

The Wolf Guardians;12720075']Wolfgang reached down to pick up the pistol. "Wait for it..." he said, watching Hodz's head reconstitute itself. "For future reference, please ask." He sent a command to his PET, which constructed a "stealth" holopistol, a smaller version of his, which he handed to Hodz. "Here. Keep it."

"No, thanks, I've got mine own up in the... uh... whatchacallit." Dr. Hodz said, his brain still a little shook up.

"Armory. That's it."

Meanwhile, Dr. Hodz's brain was yelling at Dr. Hodz's sub conscience for being such an impulsive moron.

He'd be fine, though. Once he had some chocolate milk. And by curious coincidence, a chocolate milk was called into being right next to Dr. Hodz. He took a sip, wondering if he had powers to summon things out of thin air. He thought Bring me a whale!, and, conveniently enough, the universe was more than happy to oblige, causing a large humpback whale to crash down upon several delegations.

"Well, looks like free whale for everyone!" Dr. Hodz announced, whilst mentally summoning a chainsaw to harvest the whalemeat.

Dr. Hodz peered down. "Is that what my brain looked like? Nasty business." he said, mentally forcing the bits of grey mush out of existence.

"Now, let's have some food. I think I'll have a whalemeat sandwich. Toasted."

And the universe granted Dr. Hodz a toaster and some bread. He made his sandwich.

"Anybody want anything else..?"

Deftly avoiding falling whales and other things that really had no right to be popping into existence here, Wolfgang took the gun back, his computer deconstructing it back into its matter-store. "What good is it to you if it's not with you?" Seeing the Doctor's rather destructive mood, he thought better of pursuing the matter. "I'll just... sit down there..." he calmly ran like hell to the other end of the bar.

OOC: Pardon me while I don a look of utter, complete confusion.

The Wolf Guardians;12720634']"What good is it to you if it's not with you?"

"Well, I'm in the Stranger's Bar, and no one can be killed in the Stranger's Bar, so it's rather useless."

"Except... except that my weapon is nonlethal. That's why the Bar let me bring it in here," he called from a safe distance. He turned to Neville and asked quietly, "The doctor is acting strange all of the sudden, isn't he?"

A pair of heads peer cautiously around the door, and two pairs of eyes swivel left and right.

"Is she here?"

"I don't think she's here."

"Thank heavens. Quickly, she could be anywhere! We don't want her to see us!"

Two young women - one in her early twenties, the other in her early thirties - slip into the bar, flattening themselves dramatically against the wall as if expecting a hail of gunfire. When explosive welcome fails to materialize, they saunter over to the bar. The younger of the two boggles at the sight of most of a humpback whale occupying the bar floor, though her senior is blasé - she's seen stranger things in the far recesses of time and space, and knowing the NSUN it's probably a fellow ambassador, preserved for all time in spirits.

"Something colorful with an umbrella in it, please," the younger tells the bartender - "Make that two somethings colorful", she adds, at a glance from the elder.

"And we were never here," the older woman hisses. "If an angry blond woman in a catsuit asks, you've never seen any Librarians, OK?"

The Wolf Guardians;12722688']"Except... except that my weapon is nonlethal. That's why the Bar let me bring it in here," he called from a safe distance. He turned to Neville and asked quietly, "The doctor is acting strange all of the sudden, isn't he?"

Dr. Hodz, curiously enough, suddenly downed a Wild Turkey, and collapsed onto the floor.

After a few comatose moments, he is revived and stands up, feeling much less holographically head-ed.

Turning towards Wolfgang and The Blue Eyed Man, who seem to be the only people who notice Dr. Hodz, he tells them that he'll be right back and departs the bar.

"Mister Neville, Doctor Hodz is real, yes? I'm mildly getting the impression that he's a figment of my imagination," Wolfgang asked. "Awfully destructive figment, it would seem."

OOC: What are you insinuating?

IC:
Dr. Hodz returned, this time holding a brushed-metal pistol-shaped object (as well a some kind of advanced computer).

He brandished the gun. It could be seen that the handle of the pistol contained a blue glowing gel substance.

"This is an AircaBell 508 Special holopistol. Though it can be lethal, I've put in some special energy gel - that's the blue stuff - and it only stuns roughly like a taser. This is my personal favorite, though I should note that I have a lot more, including a Simulated Destruction pistol."

He pocketed the pistol and sat the tablet PC on the table.

( Of course, the usage of "tablet PC" is an understatement, as this computer had all the power of Wolfgang's PET, minus a few things such as the object synthesis feature. )

The computer came to life with a bright, happy "Hi there!". Dr. Hodz rolled his eyes. A screen popped up that was very governmental-looking and had lots of capitalized words all over it, such as "CLASSIFIED" and "EYES ONLY" and "FOR REAL, DON'T BE LOOKING AT THIS IF YOU'RE NOT AUTHORIZED". Dr. Hodz typed a bit and another screen popped up, looking a little more approachable. Dr. Hodz clicked something and a message popped up.

"Ah, good. They're getting done with the Kinetic Bombardment and Anti-satellite programs."

***********

The whale slipped out of existence, based on the fact that the universe had decided to rescind its previous decisions and take away tele-synthetic powers.

Wolfgang couldn't for the life of him figure out what a holopistol would need gel for, or what the point of having a lethal holographic weapon was, but no matter. "Dare I ask what the target is of such a 'kinetic bombardment and anti-satellite' campaign?" Destructive-er and destructive-er, he thought.

The Wolf Guardians;12723199']Wolfgang couldn't for the life of him figure out what a holopistol would need gel for, or what the point of having a lethal holographic weapon was, but no matter. "Dare I ask what the target is of such a 'kinetic bombardment and anti-satellite' campaign?" Destructive-er and destructive-er, he thought.

"Well... we're not as old or developed as your nation. We're just trying to get a space program launched."

Dr. Hodz sipped his chocolate milk and press a button on his computer. The computer pinged, but nothing else seemed to happen.

Unfortunately, one of the delegations that the humpbacked whale had crashed on was the collection of Kawaiian pilgrims, the steady stream of chanting, robed devotees bowing and genuflecting before the Shrine of the Manifestation. Only to be squashed by large amounts of whale that indeed had no place being in the Strangers' Bar.

The elderly nekomusume who was manning the Shrine was miraculously unhurt, having been at the other end of the bar near the door, making sure the appropriate tickets were being punched for admission to the religious rite. She screamed in terror, "IYAAAA!!!! KAIJU, KAIJU!!!!" and began running amok through the delegations, acting not unlike her countrymen who at the moment were facing equally deadly menances (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=523311&page=4).

Only to see the whale disappear in a puff of retroactive continuity. No crushed Shrine, no squashed pilgrims, all the same as it was before cetacean doom had landed on them. The old Kawaiian shrine maiden blinked, shook herself slightly, then went back to her ticket-collecting, saying brightly, "Oh well."

"Oh gods. I didn't realize there were Kawaiians in this bar. Oh well. I should have known. I'm just concerned that they might not be receptive to us, being allies of the Kennyites, who are apparently their worst enemies."

An ice cream sundae was put on Dr. Hodz's table.

"Oh... er..." Wolfgang searched for diplomatic words. "Kennyites are fine," he decided. "In small doses," he added quietly to himself. "So... is that the extent of your 'space program', these weapons? Or do you have manned vessels planned?"

The Wolf Guardians;12723394']"Oh... er..." Wolfgang searched for diplomatic words. "Kennyites are fine," he decided. "In small doses," he added quietly to himself. "So... is that the extent of your 'space program', these weapons? Or do you have manned vessels planned?"

"Well, actually, there's a large spaceship that's probably somewhat smaller than the Titanic but contains a superlaser that has the power of a few nukes when completely powered. It's good for easily sinking ships.

There's also a bunch of frigates and corvettes and destroyers and such. And complements of fighters, scouts and bombers."

Dr. Hodz's computer pinged again. He shifted it some, and pressed another button. It pinged twice.

The Wolf Guardians;12720216']"Holographic Simulated Destruction pistol." He sent the command again, generating another holopistol, which he handed to The Blue-Eyed Man. "Compliments of the Commonwealth. Don't worry, either. Nothing can kill you in the bar, that I know of. Have fun with that. It'll stun the hell out of its victim, but does no permanent harm whatsoever."

Niiice, i have to tr.....*Zap*

oooops.... he hoped desperatly that the holopistol hadn't hit any one or thing for that matter. So he went back to his drink looking a little abashed.

"Well, actually, there's a large spaceship that's probably somewhat smaller than the Titanic but contains a superlaser that has the power of a few nukes when completely powered. It's good for easily sinking ships.

There's also a bunch of frigates and corvettes and destroyers and such. And complements of fighters, scouts and bombers."

Dr. Hodz's computer pinged again. He shifted it some, and pressed another button. It pinged twice.


I guess you're talking about another ship, but you don't mean Cookesland's U.S.S Titanic do you? That would quite an odd twist of serendipity. The Blue Eyed Man then turned his attention to where whale that had smushed a lot of the Kawaiian Pilgrims about a minute ago, only too see they were all back together again.

Then he said to Wolfgang in a hushed voice, " You, can see Dr. Hodz too right? 'cuz it seems like we're the only ones who can see him."

I guess you're talking about another ship, but you don't mean Cookesland's U.S.S Titanic do you? That would quite an odd twist of serendipity. The Blue Eyed Man then turned his attention to where whale that had smushed a lot of the Kawaiian Pilgrims about a minute ago, only too see they were all back together again.

Then he said to Wolfgang in a hushed voice, " You, can see Dr. Hodz too right? 'cuz it seems like we're the only ones who can see him."

"Yes, though whether or not that's a good thing, I haven't figured out," Wolfgang whispered back. Speaking so everyone could hear, he continued, "I think he's talking about our Starship Titanic (http://starshiptitanic.com/). Is your Titanic prone to almost catastrophic disasters? Ours seems to be.

"Doctor, the Akimonad space program would seem to have us beat in number. We've only two interstellar vehicles, both spectacular though they may be. How do you make a laser 'super?'"

The Wolf Guardians;12723639']"Yes, though whether or not that's a good thing, I haven't figured out," Wolfgang whispered back. Speaking so everyone could hear, he continued, "I think he's talking about our Starship Titanic (http://starshiptitanic.com/). Is your Titanic prone to almost catastrophic disasters? Ours seems to be.

"Doctor, the Akimonad space program would seem to have us beat in number. We've only two interstellar vehicles, both spectacular though they may be. How do you make a laser 'super?'"

"Yeah our Titanic seems to have alot more trouble than it's sisters, the Olympic, and the Gigantic. The Engines, will stop working, running aground, ammunition going off prematurly. Wonder what could make both our ships unlucky?"

"No idea. I'm just glad that nothing ever manages to damage the Titanic. It's the Titanic that always does the damage. We've given up on building a nice dock for it to park in because it always smashes it. It also has a habit of seeking out Victorian rectories just to slice them neatly in two, and we can't quite work our why. Hopefully, the Pacifica will be more controllable."

Doctor, the Akimonad space program would seem to have us beat in number. We've only two interstellar vehicles, both spectacular though they may be.

Well, we could certainly use some expertise in that area.

The Titanic is certainly spectacular, when it's not disappearing randomly. Unless you fixed that.

How do you make a laser 'super?'"

"Well, it's just waaay more powerful than, say, that holopistol. The laser, at maximum, supplies about 10x10^24 joules. Not as much as the frikkin' Death Star, but enough to destroy a ship."

Wonder what could make both our ships unlucky?

Maybe they're linked together through the multiverse or some such strange thing...

And I'm not figment of your imaginations. Other people just ignore me because they're mean.

A quick Control-P on the Bar's computer gave Neville a document that bid fair to rival, in thickness, the latest popular airport novel (Memoirs of a Disappearing Fine Yeldan (TM), if you must know).

Displaying the huge print-out carefully on a silver salver, he set off in the direction of Dr Hodz, only to have Violet grab his elbow.

"You'll never get away with it!" she hissed.

"Why not? Look, he owes us even more than the Cookesland delegation." Neville narrowed his eyes cunningly. "I figure, if I make a big deal out of giving him this bill, it might work, shall we say, pour encourager les autres?" he whispered. "Betcha we get half a dozen outstanding accounts settled, after this."

"Neville, read me out some items," Violet said patiently.

It was not wise to thwart Violet when she was being Patient in that tone of voice. Obediently, Neville read out, "Item, whale cleanup, multillion megacredits. Item, the surcharge for undercutting Bar prices on whale toast and chocolate milkshakes, multi-multillion megacredits. Item, use of a device to evade Bar regulations on such things --"

"There are no Bar regulations on such things!"

"There are now," Neville said grandly. "Item, excessive use of the Acme Temporal Timeline Prestidigitator to reverse the effects of unwise decisions ..."

"But it was you pressed the button! Three times, Neville! I saw you!"

"Yes, but he made me, so it's all his fault. And besides, that thing releases Handwavium into the atmosphere. Item, leaving us stuck with the corpse oif the First First Singer in the freezer and not being able to give away our whaleburgers for love or money ..."

"It's just that people don't want to eat someone they knew. Though Mme Vermithrax seemed okay with that whale-heart stew Dazza sent her. But, Neville, but, Dr Hodz had nothing to do with that!"

"Well, yeah, but I figured, with so many items, who'd notice? And I've been wanting for ages to get somebody over that one."

Violet switched from being Patient to being Reasonable. Neville winced inwardly. She gestured round the Bar.

"Here's why you'll never get away with it. Neville, where's your proof?"

Neville followed her pointing finger. The Bar proceeded as it always did. No whale bits. No squished pilgrims. And, from the annoyed look on Dr Hodz's face as he stabbed unavailingly at the buttons on his handheld gadget, not even any incriminating device ... but wait! He turned to the indicator on the Acme machine.

"Look, this'll prove it! It shows how many times it's been used, and it'll be three more than the last time we recorded it! And we've got dozens of witnesses that it wouldn't have been necessary if ..."

The BarLord's face fell. The machine was, after all, an Acme product. The indicator showed a big, fat zero.

Sighing defeatedly, he dumped the giant bill in the recycling bin.

But inside his head, a Moriartian voice whispered, "We will meet again, Dr Hodz!"

And I'm not figment of your imaginations. Other people just ignore me because they're mean.

"Or wise," Wolfgang mumbled. "The SMEF problem was repaired by the previous owners, by reassembling Titania and..."

Wolfgang looked as though he'd heard a shot, ears standing straight up. "Oh, cool!" He found a television and linked his computer to it. It displayed what looked like an old-school four-engined rocket ship lying on its side in a mess of gantries. The picture was such that there was no way to judge scale; there was just the ship on its pad. The viewpoint swiveled from aft to fore, where the words "Starship Pacifica" were stylized. The camera then zoomed in towards a useless-looking gantry that wasn't touching the ship, and continued zooming. And zooming. And zooming. Until finally, a Guardian was visible, standing right in the middle of the flat front face of the ship's main body. Anyone who thought to compare the man's relative size to the ship would determine the ship to be almost exactly fifty kilometers long. The man began speaking. "As Alpha Elect of the Great Commonwealth, it is my privelidge to launch this, the greatest construction of the Commonwealth, the Starship Pacifica!" And he flinged the bottle of French champagne at the front of the ship. He then continued, without moving away. "5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Launch."

Nothing happened. Or rather, nothing appeared to. Then the giant mechanical gantries supporting the ship lowered themselves, and the Ship remained rock steady where it was. The crowd collectively gasped. A-grav? An a-grav that big would take... Then it dawned on them. They must've finally duplicated the black-hole captivation of the Titanic.

An impossibly calm, soothing male voice issued from the ship's loudspeakers. “All systems... online. Pacifica... ready." The technophilic crowd roared.

Another, more organic-sounding voice. "Orders received. Destination: Pluto."

A third. "Course set. ETA: 11 minutes on superlight."

A final, commanding voice washed over the crowd. "Commit."

With that, the ship silently, gracefully ascended into the clouds. Every Guardian watched on the viewer of his choice, as the ship exited the atmosphere and went superlight, becoming a straight line into infinity, then disappearing.

Wolfgang was speechless, a rare occurrance. The Commonwealth’s City of the Stars was complete.

[/ridiculousDrama]

Ardchoilleans;12724485']But inside his head, a Moriartian voice whispered, "We will meet again, Dr Hodz!"

Dr. Hodz glanced in the direction of Neville and Violet and wondered why Neville had a gigantic stack of papers and what the heck they were talking about. He was able to see that one of the papers had something resembling his name on it. That'd be the bill... he thought, and hid himself under a table. Not surprisingly, another delegation was underneath the tables. They looked like... bunnies? Robotic rabbits? They looked pretty evil.

Dr. Hodz slipped out the bar. His vacation began in a few hours anyway.

OOC: Bye all, see you next week!

Wolfgang, seeing Doctor Hodz leave for a bit, breathed a sigh of relief. "Kyle, you can stop hiding now." The pup reappeared. "Did you see the launch?"

"Yep!" Kyle quipped.

"We're going to have to try to hitch a ride some time."

"Yeah!"

Wolfgang turned towards Neville. "So, do you have an anti-figment-of-my-imagination machine, or was Hodz really real? I just don't see how I could think up someone quite that weird, but I also don't see how the real multiverse could think up someone quite that weird, either."

Maybe they're linked together through the multiverse or some such strange thing...

"yeah probably some strange like that, who knows?"


And I'm not figment of your imaginations. Other people just ignore me because they're mean.

"I don't think its that they're mean i guess its just nobody's in a talkative mood other than you, me, Wolfgang, Neville, and Violet."



Dr. Hodz slipped out the bar. His vacation began in a few hours anyway.



The Blue Eyed Man waved good bye and when back to his drink, "He has a larger bill than me? Astounding! That is of course if he isn't just a figurement of our imaginations or an undigested burrito."

"And me!" Kyle yipped.

Dr. Hodz's computer, which was left in the bar, open and powered, pinged rather loudly. It displayed a message that read:
So, it turns out that I can communicate remotely while I'm on holiday. Don't charge things to my bill please, as the webcam on this computer is functioning, as is the microphone and speakers.

A voice issued from the computer that sounded mostly like Dr. Hodz.
"Hello, can anybody hear me? Tiki Taki is nice, but I had a terrible time with customs. They seem to think that I'm evil in some way. Silly Kennyite colonists."

Dr. Hodz's computer, which was left in the bar, open and powered, pinged rather loudly. It displayed a message that read:


A voice issued from the computer that sounded mostly like Dr. Hodz.
"Hello, can anybody hear me? Tiki Taki is nice, but I had a terrible time with customs. They seem to think that I'm evil in some way. Silly Kennyite colonists."

"How is that part of Omigodtheykilledkenny? i 've never met anyone who's went there until now." said The Blue Eyed Man to Dr. Hodz's Computer.

"Speaking of which its kinda funny how many doubles of names are in the Multiverse, like Cookesland shares its southwestern border with a nation called The Republic of ----Kenny---- (http://www.nationstates.net/----kenny----).

I hope you have a good time there!"

I have a question!

Can I do sth else in this game as talking in this forum?

Margaret Andrea Morgan Cheltenham - for she it is - peers at the latest entrant. Can this be that rarest, strangest of species, that Enemy of Literacy, Homo erectus vulgaris - the Common Frat Boy?

Extracting from her pocket a device that looks like the unlawful offspring of a cellular phone and a chrome-plated shrimp (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/20/Penaeus_line_drawing.jpg)*, she holds it to her ear. Holds it up and peers at it. Shakes it vigorously. Tries again.

"Nothing but static," she tells Verity. "The Verbal Antidiscombobulator's on the fritz again."

OOC: I admit it, I wanted an opportunity to use the word "discombobulate". Who wouldn't?
* Shrimp actually a prawn.

I have a question!

Can I do sth else in this game as talking in this forum?

OOC: If I could figure out what 'sth' meant, I might get it. The only thing I can come up with is 'something', but that clashes with your use of 'as'.

-The Author of Wolfgang, Grammar Nazi

IC:
Wolfgang's translation software just gave him a mental funny look, so to speak, when he asked it to determine what the newcomer meant. Gee, I love you, too, he thought back at it. "I think what the nice lady's trying to say is that we can't understand you, good sir, madam, or thing."

He walked over to Dr. Hodz's computer, discreetly looking for an "off" command. "Evil? Naw... It's just... Kennyites, you know."

I have a question!

Can I do sth else in this game as talking in this forum?

"Come again? Miss Cheltenham, Wolfgang, and myself couldn't understand you the first time." said The Blue Eyed Man as he turned around to face the person or thing that had originally asked the question.

"I didn't think I'd been around long enough for people to recognise me," Margaret comments, "But yes, I'm Maggie Cheltenham, and this is Verity Jones. I can't say I know your name though, Mr ...?"

At this point, Dr. al-Satal, who had been sitting and staring at the wall in a catatonic state, suddenly perked. In a recovery of mental faculty that would have made even the most hard-hearted 12 year coma stander-by weep with happiness, he stepped up and walked straight to the new folks.

"Why! Why! pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma'am. Amin Reman, sheikh al-Satal, Ph.D. You are new here, I can tell despite my obvious lack of involvement in office politics... although I do detect the air of academia about you. May I buy you a drink?"

Glossing over the fact that the good doctor didn't drink alcohol, the author very neatly reinserted a character into the flow of UN affairs and all was right with the multiverse.

"Why thank you, Doctor Reman. Certainly you may buy me a drink," Margaret replies, swinging about on her bar stool to face the sheikh. He looks rather like the more distinguished foreign members, she thinks, The ones who haven't gone mad or been turned into an orang-utan or something.

"Yes, I'm from the Library," she continues aloud (the capital L clearly audible), "I have a doctorate in Returns Policy ... you might call it political theory, I think."

"Why thank you, Doctor Reman. Certainly you may buy me a drink," Margaret replies, swinging about on her bar stool to face the sheikh. He looks rather like the more distinguished foreign members, she thinks, The ones who haven't gone mad or been turned into an orang-utan or something.

Smiling as dashingly as he could, while readjusting his pince-nez, the doctor beckoned Neville to bring Miss Margaret whatever it was that Librarians (of the proper noun variety) preferred to drink. He was sure Neville would know.

"Yes, I'm from the Library," she continues aloud (the capital L clearly audible), "I have a doctorate in Returns Policy ... you might call it political theory, I think."

"My doctorate is in economics. You might call it Late Fee Specifics, I think."

he laughed at his own joke, perhaps a little too heartily. He readjusted his pince-nez again.

"Well, I am from Allech-Atreus, a vast interstellar extradimensional empire. I think you might enjoy one particular planet in the place... Bibliotecos, the library world, home of the Imperial University and Library. 9,631,420 square kilometers of stacks, book, archives, and pure, unadulterated library."

He emphasized the last sentence with a broad smile and pride.

Margaret laughs too - although in her case it's due to the mental image of Sheikh al-Satal in a PVC jumpsuit.

"Departmental Accounts Handling, probably," she replies. "Fines and Dues Collection is ... a different kettle of fish.

"But yes, your Bibliotecos sounds rather like our Library. In fact, I'm almost certain I've already been there. Quite a nice place, unless I'm getting it mixed up with somewhere else ... that happens rather a lot."

An urgent ringing from his office phone interrupted the ambassador's thoughts as he pondered the sheer, eye-rolling tedium that had characterized UN business in recent weeks. "Hello?" he answered.

His greeting was met with the familiar crackling of a cell phone. "Good afternoon, Ambassador. This is Cdr. Chiang. You are aware, I'm sure, of my ongoing efforts to assess potential threats to the Mission? Well, after some surveillance down here in the Strangers' Bar, I have determined Dr. Hodz to be a likely security risk."

"What? Why? Is he plotting against us?"

"I'm not entirely sure, sir, although a recent conversation he had with Wolfgang does raise some eyebrows -- not necessarily that they were discussing ways to mitigate alleged effects of Kennyites on advanced technology, but that they were stupid enough to discuss it out in the open, with listening devices everywhere. My main concern, after observing some peculiar behavior on the part of the good doctor, is that Hodz is, clinically speaking, out of his fucking mind."

Sammy's eyes widened. "You're serious?" he queried.

"Yes, Ambassador. I would not have reported anything to you if I wasn't. And just to be on the safe side, I've ordered that one of my girls accompany you on any occasion that Hodz is in the same room."

"I appreciate your concern for my safety, Commander, but, uhh, wouldn't the girls' general ... er, appearance, give some in the building the wrong impression? I mean I wouldn't want ... um ... anyone to become ...."

"Jealous?" sighed Chiang. "Please, Ambassador. I'm certain even Avaya Thibaudet understands the caution that must be taken when trying to protect important public officials. Don't worry yourself over it."

"Um, thanks, Commander," Sammy replied sheepishly. "And thanks for calling."

"Just doing my duty, sir," said Chiang. "Enjoy your lunch break. ... By the way, you've been absent a lot lately. Anything wrong?"

"Ah, no!" Sammy answered with a nervous giggle. "Everything's, um, fine! ... Uh-huh ... uh-huh ... the same to you. Bye!" The envoy tried in vain to put down the receiver, but something was distracting him. From a locked chest in his closet, the incriminating protrudance of a carelessly placed, brightly colored sleeve from a body suit could be plainly detected, even from behind his desk. Quickly he got up to correct the oversight.

Wolfgang sighed. Either nothing happens in the UN, or silliness happens. I guess that's support of the "no news is good news" mantra.

"I didn't think I'd been around long enough for people to recognise me," Margaret comments, "But yes, I'm Maggie Cheltenham, and this is Verity Jones. I can't say I know your name though, Mr ...?"

"Oh, i've seen you in the General Assembly a few times it's nice to actually meet you though and you too Verity," he quickly added

"i'm The Blue Eyed Man. My job is the ambassador, delegate, representative or what ever you call it from Cookesland."

The Wolf Guardians;12740143']Wolfgang sighed. Either nothing happens in the UN, or silliness happens. I guess that's support of the "no news is good news" mantra.

C'est la NSUN...

there is a bit of a flash as a young woman, fairly attractive, comes stumbling out of a portal, followed by a young man who looks like he's not too happy about where he just came from. The man turns to the woman

"No" he says, matter of factly

"Bastard."

"I believe the two we are looking for are right...over....there"

"Are you sure that's them?"

The man is looking at a pair of men, one rather red headed, one rather latino, both rather pie eyed

"I've seen those two in pictures with Faisano before. If those aren't them, then we are in serious trouble, because I have no clue who else it could be."

"Fine then, lead on fearless girl pusher."

*sigh*

the two aproach the table where the two connoisseurs of herbal stress remedies are giggling away about something or other

"Good day, gentlemen. My name is Bernard. This is my wife, Lina."

The latino gives Lina the once over

"Hey mami. Why don't you ditch the shirt and come over here with us. We can show you how to relax. You look like you could use it."

In point of fact, Lina was about as tense as a person could be in a bar

"Some other time, perhaps. Right now, me and my husband are here on business, of a sorts. We are on a Kivistan race team, and we understand that you have a message for us. If you do, perhaps we could stay for a drinnk of two."

"Heeyyyy, now you're talking mami!"

Lina leans over the table to get a little closer

"And perhaps, we might be able to come to some further arrangements about after the drinks regarding the other competitors. Whaddaya say Ace?"

looks from the redhead to the latino

"Rico, you up for some....shenanigans?"

Escorted by her bodyguard (http://fm.mt-wudan.com/images/icon%20(9).jpg), Ailyn Vel (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/images/Ailyn.jpg) makes her first appearance in the Stranger's Bar, her footsteps slightly hesitant, as she'd had quite a bit of Corellian brandy during the final hours of the recent debate on the UN floor.

"Elek! Gal!" she shouts upon entering.

She then leans over to her bodyguard and whispers, "Was that right?"

Her bodyguard nods once, then returns to scanning the room for potential threats.

Ailyn smiles sardonically. She was starting to get the hang of the language. Of course, it would've been easier if her father had stuck around long enough to teach her himself...

She makes her way to the bar -- her body guard, as always, at her side -- and asks the bartender, "Do you know how to make a Flameout?"

Wolfgang looks over at the newcomer. "You know, you're supposed to park your bodyguards in the room near the entrance. You can't die here."

Ailyn looks down at the youngling, her eyes weary. "Right, tell that to my...father..."

She'd nearly gagged on that last word, but it wasn't anything a good Flameout couldn't treat.

OOC: Ok, official public message to all who confuse Kyle with Wolfgang:

Kyle.935: 4 Earth years old, tiny. Bright, however.

Wolfgang.013: 172 Earth years old, a shade under 7 feet tall. Unless you're REALLY huge, you don't look "down" at Wolfgang.

</snippyBecauseHe'sSleepy>

IC:
"Suit yourself, but you literally can't die here. I suppose the lad could keep Kennyites away or something. And get you drinks." Wolfgang continued reading his electronic reports from the Commonwealth.

"Let your bodyguard go and play with the others," Neville said helpfully. "We put in a poker-machine room just for the bodyguards. They love it! All the flashing lights and noises and things. Besides, bodyguards aren't much help here. Weapons morph into ... well, why don't you check? Mostly it's porcupines."

"Bet it's lollipops this time," said Violet. "There's so much sweetness and light round the UN at the moment, lollipops'd make sense. As far as anything does," she added consideringly.

Neville did that bit of flim-flam that adults always think is clever and reached over, extracting a lollipop, apparently, from Kyle's ear. "There you go!" he beamed, handing it to the cub. "It is okay to give him lollipops, isn't it?" he asked Wolfgang belatedly. "I mean, it's not too close to lunch, or ... prey ... or anything?"

Violet, ignoring the various awkward attempts at social interaction, concentrated on the Flameout. She might not be a BarLord, but she could recognise a customer in need.

"Here, knock that back," she said, handing it to the newcomer.

OOC: Oops. Sorry, TWG. That's what I get for reading quickly and posting at a very late hour. :(

IC: "Thank you," Ailyn says to the bartender, as she accepts the drink. "My guard has to stay with me at all times, though. Daddy's orders," she sneers.

She downs the drink in one quick gulp. "Wow, very nice. Haven't had a Flameout like that since I hit that filthy dive on Rodia. Can I have another please?"

Kyle looked slightly patronized, but having the sweet tooth common to Guardians, he chomped down on it, anyway. Wolfgang spoke, "I'm actually not in charge of him any more than I'd be in charge of a fully-grown Guardian. We take personal responsibility at an early age."

Alexei had just entered the bar and ordered a Vodka. He was tired from the Jetlag from Moskva the capital city of Zyrwick. He was repsonsible for heading the new UN delegation from Zyrwick....new after the People's Revolution, anyway.

He took out a cigarette and lit it. Hoping that there wasnt a rule against smoking, as he had heard many capitalist nations had addoopted, although smoking, snuffing and chewing was common in Zyrwick, he couldnt be sure.

He then observed the bar in hopes of seeking possible allies in the world for his nation.

*snip*

The latino gives Lina the once over

"Hey mami. Why don't you ditch the shirt and come over here with us. We can show you how to relax. You look like you could use it."

In point of fact, Lina was about as tense as a person could be in a bar

"Some other time, perhaps. Right now, me and my husband are here on business, of a sorts. We are on a Kivistan race team, and we understand that you have a message for us. If you do, perhaps we could stay for a drinnk of two."

"Heeyyyy, now you're talking mami!"The stocky Latino smiled hungrily as the gorgeous woman approached the table. "Yeah, whyn't you have a seat right here, mami?" he offered, designating a seat between him and his redhead friend. He couldn't say he recalled having ever called a woman "mami" before, but a strangely beautiful woman can cause a man to say and do strange things. "Hey, dumbass," barked over his shoulder as Lina took the seat beside him. "Give the man his clue!"

Rico deftly placed his arm around the back of the Kivistan woman's chair and turned toward her with a suave, if somewhat goofy-looking, grin. Lina smiled back, but seemed more interested in doing what it took to get the clue than in her new friend.

Ace was none too pleased that Rico intended on monopolizing the pretty lady. "They haven't said our names yet," he pointed out.

"The fuck you talkin' 'bout?" Rico demanded. "Give him the fuckin' clue!"

"But they're supposed to greet us by name (http://z11.invisionfree.com/Antarctic_Oasis/index.php?showtopic=519&view=findpost&p=6799714)," Ace insisted.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure we can bend the rules a little for a girl as hot as this one!"

"Dude, whatever," Ace shot back. "You'll go for anything in a skirt!"

"Yeah, as long as her conch doesn't smell like dead fish!" Rico agreed with a laugh.

It was at that point that Lina, rolling her eyes, finally remembered their names.

"See? She knows the rules!" said Rico.

"Fine, here's your clue," Ace said as he slid the yellow and black envelope across the table toward the good-looking young Kivistan gentleman. "Have some fries too!" he added mischievously, sliding in his direction a basket of "chips" that may or may not have been tainted with fart powder when Bernard wasn't looking.

Bernard looks over the contents of the envelope. After a moment, a look of light concern settles upon his features.

"Sweetie, I know this may be a bit much to ask, but do you think you could keep Ace and Rico here entertained for a little while? I've got to see to this, and it might take a touch less time if I can go about it on my own."

his voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper

"perhaps the three of you might be able to discuss the future of the other two copies of the clue that you fine gentlemen might be holding. I'm sure you will find that my wife is incredibly capable at meeting nearly any demand to satisfy whatever barter you may wish. Just remember sweetie, I get the first copies of any videos made, alright?" he gives Lina a wink and brings his voice back to a normal level

"Now then, let's see...hmmmmm ah. You may wish to cover your ears for a moment now."

Bernard takes a deep breath and hollers angrily at the three of them

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'TO HELL THE RAINFORESTS'!?! WITHOUT THEM WE WOULD ALL DIE! MOTHER NATURE DESERVES OUR RESPECT AND PROTECTION!!"

from a short distance away is heard a supportive

"Hear, Hear!"

Bernard resumes his regular voice.

"If you'll excuse me, I must go buy that man a drink." He turns on his heel and stalks towards the voice of eco-support

"Hello friend. It's so nice to see that there are still some voices of reason in the world. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Hello. I'd love a drink. Pull up a chair."

"Certainly, but first; what are you drinking?"

"Oh I'm sure Violet could bring it over for us."

"Ah, I'm sure she could, but she works so hard. I don't mind a little leg work."

"Alright then. Just get me one of whatever you're having."

"Sure thing. I'll be right back."

Bernard makes his way up to the bar. Meanwhile; back with Lina and her new friends

"So, there isn't really any way that I can convince you to perhaps, allow me a moment alone with those other clues?"

"Well you know..." chimes in Ace "if it were entirely up to us, I'm sure we could come to some arrangement, but we have no idea when those other teams are going to be showing up."

"and that could be a problem." Rico cuts him off "Which would definitely have an effect on any arrangement we might be able to reach. So what I'm thinking is this..." his voice trails off to a whisper only barely audible to those at the table, and not noticeable at all to anyone else.

[i]Back at the bar, we rejoin Bernard, who has patiently waited his turn for service

"Good day to you. I have a little bit of an odd request. Me and my new friend over there wish to enjoy a drink together to celebrate having found kindred spirits in this callous world. What could you recommend along the lines of the most environmentally friendly beverage possible? Preferably something that packs a ridiculous wallop to boot. We have no wish to suffer existence for any longer than at all possible this evening. If it makes any difference at all, money is not an object, and I pay in cash."

"So, we're looking for a redhead and some other guy."

"Yeah! Oh, look at that. Those creepy Kivistans seem to have beat us here."

"I'm not surprised, Tana. We...er...I did spend a lot of time trying to find those stupid loopholes."

"Do you think it's at all possible for you to drop it. Look, over there. That's them." Tana rushed over to the two men, stopping to check her hair, make-up and cleavage in the mirror. "Perfect!" As she approached the two men, she slowed her pace, turning for a moment to see if Tristan was following. When she saw that he was right behind her, her attention was back on the men. "Hello, I'm Tana and this is...Tristan. We're here for our next clue."

"God, Tana! Could be anymore of a....ouch! Don't hit."

Erik falls out of a portal looking distinctly pale. Guthrum though...

Guthrum: Ah I love those portals. Nothing quite like the feeling of having your atoms ripped apart and shot through space. Erik come on I see Sammy's friends.

Erik: Gentelmen, were th-

Guthrum: Erik. They don't care. Hey, Rico and Ace we're a bit pressed for time, so how about we save the small talk and just have a quick round of shots before you give us our next clue?

Margaret laughs too - although in her case it's due to the mental image of Sheikh al-Satal in a PVC jumpsuit.

"Departmental Accounts Handling, probably," she replies. "Fines and Dues Collection is ... a different kettle of fish.

"But yes, your Bibliotecos sounds rather like our Library. In fact, I'm almost certain I've already been there. Quite a nice place, unless I'm getting it mixed up with somewhere else ... that happens rather a lot."

The doctor laughed. "Well, some people like getting lost in the building. It's quite easy. They installed overnight hostels and emergency phones during the reign of Emperor Walanda X because they kept finding bodies in the Neophysics department."

"So, tell me more about yourself? What brings you to the UN?"

Meanwhile; back with Lina and her new friends

"So, there isn't really any way that I can convince you to perhaps, allow me a moment alone with those other clues?"

"Well you know..." chimes in Ace "if it were entirely up to us, I'm sure we could come to some arrangement, but we have no idea when those other teams are going to be showing up."

"and that could be a problem." Rico cuts him off "Which would definitely have an effect on any arrangement we might be able to reach. So what I'm thinking is this..." his voice trails off to a whisper only barely audible to those at the table, and not noticeable at all to anyone else.Ace suddenly glared at Rico. The latter may not have noticed any change, but to the former it was alarming. Suddenly both of them were talking like college professors!

"Uhh, Rico? You think this stuff we're throwing back, like, makes people smarter ... and shit?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Rico said, for maybe the tenth time that night. "I'm attempting to weigh the ramifications of the possible premature surrender of certain missives with this voluptuous aphroditic beauty here! ... Now, Miss, my government's position on these notes is steadfast: we are to maintain the utmost neutrality and assure they all meet with their respective, preordained parties, but for the right price, say TRFD$300 ... ?"

"We don't need any tree-fiddy; we got Sammy's bar tab!" Ace reminded him.

"Silence!" Rico said in a blunt whisper, as he stealthily slipped the remaining envelopes under the table toward his pretty companion. "I'm certain you will keep these secure--" he started, but just then, he heard an impatient feminine cough.

All three looked up to behold the luscious Tana, the awkward Tristan, and the scary-looking men from Complete Malevolence hovering over their conference.

"The jig's up!" Rico said helplessly as he flung the outstanding clues (http://z11.invisionfree.com/Antarctic_Oasis/index.php?showtopic=519&view=findpost&p=6802756) across the table.

"Dude, we still got that dimebag in Sammy's office ..." Ace suggested, and without looking back, the twain hustled for the exit.

Erik: Well, Rico and Ace it was nice meeting you perhaps we will have a chance to drink together again...

Guthrum: Erik like I said before they don't care. They are too busy getting stoned out of their mined and we have another challenge to complete and this one almost makes up for that boring second challenge at the CSA.

Up at the bar

Guthrum: Yes, could I have one of whatever your strongest drink available is and one of... hold on a second.

He turns to the rest of the room.

Guthrum: When I see a puppy in the street I don't want to kick it!

Amidst all the boos a tiny squeak of agreement can be heard. Turning back to the bar.

Guthrum:...and one of whatever that mousy fellow who agreed with me is drinking.

Cornelius wandered into the Bar.

He was sorry that he'd had to end his conversation with Christelle so precipitously, but he'd had a call from his Queen, and she's not the sort of person that you can tell to go away.

"Greetings, Neville. Could I get a glass of Shiraz, something nice and peppery?" Neville nodded, and scurried off.

Cornelius settled down at one of the bar stools, reached into his pocket, and pulled his newspaper out. It was The New Archadian, the most respected paper in the country. The banner headline screamed "QUEEN MOTHER DEAD - MOURNERS PACK PALACE FOR STATE FUNERAL". There was a large picture of the mourning young queen as she stood next to her mother's casket. Just behind her right shoulder...Cornelius' stomach jumped slightly...there he was. Looking liked he belonged there, amongst the extended royal family and assorted dignitaries...

This reverie was broken by Neville's arriving with his drink.

"Thanks, Neville."

Cornelius took a small sip, and felt the wine warm his throat.


---
OOC: Sorry I haven't been here in a while - been doing work for my Honours.

"Oh, i've seen you in the General Assembly a few times it's nice to actually meet you though and you too Verity," he quickly added.

"i'm The Blue Eyed Man. My job is the ambassador, delegate, representative or what ever you call it from Cookesland."

"That's an interesting name," Verity replies quietly - despite her radical Library politics, she doesn't seem to raise her voice much beyond a whisper. "Whyever were you named that - as opposed to something like "Bob" or "Raoul", I mean?"

The doctor laughed. "Well, some people like getting lost in the building. It's quite easy. They installed overnight hostels and emergency phones during the reign of Emperor Walanda X because they kept finding bodies in the Neophysics department."

"Sounds like a Cliché," Margaret replies, seeming entirely serious. "You have to be careful in the libraries old enough to develop a literary ecology - Thesauri are harmless and Kickstool Crabs are just a nuisance, but Clichés are to be avoided at all costs!

"Although I haven't heard of one in a science section before," she adds. "Usually they're found in the fiction stacks."

"So, tell me more about yourself? What brings you to the UN?"

"Well, about five years ago now Jennifer Danielle Cooper-Schwartz died, leaving an open seat on the Library Returns Policy Group, and by the time the LRPG finished politicking and appointed a successor Maria Genevieve Eleanora de la Vega had also died, so I got a seat on the Policy Group, and that meant that the internationalist bloc had enough members to ratify an investigation into the policy of isolationism, which resulted in a quorum being drawn from the Interdepartmental Loans Policy Committees of each Library Wing, and we managed to overturn the isolationist bloc without having it go to a general membership vote, in which case it would have taken another ten years at least ... so then the isolationists on the LRPG managed to finagle their way into getting me appointed UN Ambassador, so right now the Policy Group is fairly evenly divided between the isolationists and the internationalists, who split fairly evenly into the paleo-Vesperists and everyone else ... they're trying to reverse the policy change, but it'll take them another five years at least." She grins. "Or longer, if we can bring it to a general vote."

Christopher quietly entered the Strangers' Bar, visibly nervous. The place didn't seem all that different since he had left, but it had been quite awhile. When rogue factions had risen up in an attempt to overthrow the Islenskan monarchy, he had been immediately called back. He hadn't even had an opportunity to say goodbye to any of the other UN representatives he had me during that period. But here he was.

Finding his way to the bar, Christopher made a nod to the bartender before swivelling his seat around. Now seemed as good a time as any to wait. Would she still be here?

"That's an interesting name," Verity replies quietly - despite her radical Library politics, she doesn't seem to raise her voice much beyond a whisper. "Whyever were you named that - as opposed to something like "Bob" or "Raoul", I mean?"

Well i've had amnesia for the past 3 years, so i can't remember anything from before then. I woke up in a hospital in Cookesland, and since the nurse didn't know my name she just wrote "Blue eyed man" on the patient sheet. The name has kinda stuck but i would to know my real name.

hmmm Verity, thats a pretty name, doesn't it mean truth?

"Sounds like a Cliché," Margaret replies, seeming entirely serious. "You have to be careful in the libraries old enough to develop a literary ecology - Thesauri are harmless and Kickstool Crabs are just a nuisance, but Clichés are to be avoided at all costs!

"Ah, it could be. Usually the fumigation teams and commandos clear out any native species... nowadays most deaths are caused by starvation and dehydration, with the occasional blunt force trauma from a falling stack."

"Although I haven't heard of one in a science section before," she adds. "Usually they're found in the fiction stacks."

The Doctor smiled. "Well, my degree is in economics, but those in the scientific world of my nation regard Neophysics as no more scientific than Terry Pratchett."

"Well, about five years ago now Jennifer Danielle Cooper-Schwartz died, leaving an open seat on the Library Returns Policy Group, and by the time the LRPG finished politicking and appointed a successor Maria Genevieve Eleanora de la Vega had also died, so I got a seat on the Policy Group, and that meant that the internationalist bloc had enough members to ratify an investigation into the policy of isolationism, which resulted in a quorum being drawn from the Interdepartmental Loans Policy Committees of each Library Wing, and we managed to overturn the isolationist bloc without having it go to a general membership vote, in which case it would have taken another ten years at least ... so then the isolationists on the LRPG managed to finagle their way into getting me appointed UN Ambassador, so right now the Policy Group is fairly evenly divided between the isolationists and the internationalists, who split fairly evenly into the paleo-Vesperists and everyone else ... they're trying to reverse the policy change, but it'll take them another five years at least." She grins. "Or longer, if we can bring it to a general vote."

Keeping a blank smile on his face, the doctor tried to figure his way thorugh the mass of information the fetching Librarian had just put into circulation. Paleo-Vesperists, Isolationists... it made him remember why he spent so much time in the Stranger's Bar.

"I can't believe it," Wolfgang said to no one in particular after reading one of the current debates (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=528792). "Apparently, I have no rights."

"Get used to it, hairy guy," Ailyn says, raising her glass and downing her Corellian brandy. "Some Zeltron spiced wine plase?

Growling with distaste, Akia stomps over to Wolfgang, her stiletto boots making a great deal of noise and slightly damaging the floor. Reaching her destination, she pulls an odd-looking handheld machine out of her purse and pushes a small button. The machine clicks softly and transforms into a very large fish obviously designed for slapping the daylights out of people.

"Show no mercy, my friend, and let them wallow and writhe in the irony of it. May the vengeance of the Librarian be with you."

Akia seats herself at the nearest empty table and loses herself in yet another dragon-related documentary book from her personal holo-book library.

Wolfgang looked at the object dubiously. "Er... Thanks. But I'm really not going back there. Such a pompous upstart is to be ignored at all costs. The nerve," he growled quietly. He could then be heard growling, yipping, and snarling quietly to himself in very rude form, for Guardians. Kyle was positively appalled to hear it from Wolfgang.

Akia looks up from her book. "I don't blame you. I've been in there myself and it really has turned into a madhouse. I made a brief statement in a possibly futile attempt to introduce some sanity to the debate, but it may well be ignored. I will be checking in on it from time to time, but I've had my fill of conversing with that over-speaking (OOC: read "double-posting") upstart. If you do not wish to use the slapping-fish for its intended function, it does make for excellent grilling, barbecue, and smoking. It tastes better than almost every other fish known to sentients. Kyle would enjoy it as well, methinks. It has a strange property to it that seems to increase the quality of its flavor to the taste buds of younger sentients. This does not, however, mean that older sentients will find its flavor lacking. The alteration does not work in both directions. Here." She hands Wolfgang a small holo-book of recipes and cooking methods for the slapping-fish.

"Well Tana, this one seems like the perfect task for you. Now, who shall be the lucky fluffy?" Tana and Tristan scanned the bar. The team from Complete Malevolence had already picked someone, as did the Kivistans.

"I don't know, Tristan. How about that guy over there. The Wolf?"

"No, he's too smart and he's definitely not what one would call a "fluffy". "

"Heh. Well okay then. Oh! How about him!? He's kind of cute." Tana gestured towards the Islenskan Ambassador.

"Sure, I haven't seen him here before. Let's go get him a drink or twelve."

"Neville, can we get the strongest thing you have to drink. Actually, make that three of your strongest drink. Thank you! Oh, and have them sent to that table over there." Tristan smiled as he pointed to the Ambassador from Islenska. "Now, we wait for a bit."

Wolfgang had thought about it a bit, and changed his mind. "Actually, there is someone deserving of this thing." With that, he walked out and fish-slapped the holy hell out of a local delegate who had committed high crimes against the English language. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=528948) Walking back in, he looked slightly more relaxed. He handed the damaged fish to Kyle. "Do with that what you will." Kyle, being informed on the Commonwealth's enemies, walked out and gave the exact same delegate a good smacking.

WOLFEDIT: Wolfgang, despite having decided to exit the debate, was still following its transcript. "PRODUCTS OF ONE'S IMAGINATION?!"

Dr. Hodz walks in, his face blocked by the mound of papers he is carrying. "This ALWAYS happens. Whenever I go on vacation, there's always stuff that piles up. Now I have to read all this crap."

He sets the pile of papers on the table where his PDA rested, picking the PDA up shortly after. Unfortunately, the movement of the PDA disturbs the paper stack, which collapses onto the floor in the general direction of Wolfgang, stopping short several feet.

"Aw, forget it! I'm not reading all that!" Hodz yelled, pulling out a Zippo lighter. He flipped it open and tossed it onto the papers in one smooth motion. The papers immediately flamed up. After all, all paperwork in the Akimonad UN Office are precoated with denatured alcohol (OOC:A film of "Sterno", basically). The papers burned up rather quickly, and the gnome dispatched with a fire extinguisher looked disappointed, either at the lack of fire, or the fact that he would not be hurled across the room by Hodz if he so chose to enter.

Dr. Hodz then grabbed a Wild Turkey from a bystander, explaining that his current tab would bankrupt many large corporations.

He downed the liquor in one gulp, not collapsing, as he had previously when attempting to drink alcohol. Unknown to Hodz, the rather spicy cuisine that Hodz had eaten in Tiki Taki had destroyed a disease that apparently caused intolerance to alcohol as well as causing some kind of insanity. Whatever it was, Hodz was sane now, as well as only partly sober.

OOC: So now stop calling him insane. I love plot twists. Or retconning. Or whatever.

Greetings fellow relaxationeers, from the Vice Ambassador for the Queendom of Wampi. As I am new to this assignment, and am avoiding paperwork which must needs be done, a relaxing, foggifying beverage seems in order. In any case, salute and well met.:headbang:

ugh, i really hate it when the proposals that involve animals reach their "What about Wookies!?" sapient argument and its seems we're at that point again.

*pauses for a moment, and looks at Dr. Hodz, who just downed a Wild Turkey, torched the Akimonadian UN Offices paperwork, and now apearing rather dizzy*

Welcome back to the UN, Dr. Hodz.

*takes a drink*

A doorway opens, and a Guardian(OOC:He is described here) (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12755638&postcount=174)steps through and shakes Wolfgang's hand.

"Glad you could come."

Wolfgang briefed the newcomer and sent him in the direction of the UAC debate.

Greetings fellow relaxationeers, from the Vice Ambassador for the Queendom of Wampi. As I am new to this assignment, and am avoiding paperwork which must needs be done, a relaxing, foggifying beverage seems in order. In any case, salute and well met.:headbang:

Cornelius saw the newcomer enter the Bar. He thought the charitable thing to would be to wander over and introduce himself.

"Hello. I'm Cornelius Higginbotham, rep for New Archadia. Welcome to our august body."

Cornelius grinned, making him look rather younger.

"I seem to spend a great deal of time here, too. One of the reasons I accepted this post was to cut down an other amount of paperwork, and I've found that there's even more!"

Cornelius indicated a table, sitting just to the side of the Bar.

"How about you grab a seat for us, and I'll get us a drink. What would you like?"

Hodz, who was still completely composed, and almost entirely not dizzy, ran up to something resembling a computer terminal and inserted a credit card. A ping came from the computer as well as a person saying "Bill paid!"

Hodz looked toward Neville and smiled somewhat.

Then a rather holographic Guardian walked past him. Hodz wondered why they were all suddenly propagating here.

He took another drink.

Upon receiving the two drinks.

Guthrum: Now Erik, watch carefully. This is how you get someone drunk. First we pour out about half of the fluffy's drink. Then we replace what we poured out with part of the extra strong drink we ordered. Now we have a drink that looks what our fluffy friend has been drinking but is actually much stronger.

Erik: What about the rest of the extra strong drink?

Guthrum: Oh, I forgot about that. We can't let good alcohol go to waste so I guess I'll be forced to drink it. Now let's go get our new "friend" drunk.

Arriving at the fluffy's table.

Guthrum: Excuse me but I heard your response to my earlier comment and I must say admirable sentiments. I was so impressed I decided to buy you a drink. I believe this is what you've been drinking.

Fluffy: Yes, it seems to be. Thank you.

Several minutes pass and the fluffy fails to have the desired reaction.

Erik: What's wrong? You assured me that the drink would make him so drunk he would pass out.

Guthrum: I suppose I did but there is an easy solution. You see in a location like this there are two many ways to make someone pass out. The harder way is actually getting someone drunk which is the one we already tried.

Erik: And the easier?

Guthrum: Simple. You walk behind the individual in question. Grab their head, and slam it into the table. Like you can see it is very successful as our fluffy friend is now unconscious.

Erik: Big surprise. You take the violent approach.

Guthrum: Hey do I criticize your methods? I don't think so. Anyway here is his wallet. Let's see. Some cash, definitely keep that, some credit cards, hopefully they are still good, I'll keep them until I find out. Ah here is what we were looking for this guy's voting card. Come on Erik we're done here.

Returning to the bar.

Guthrum: Neville, I would like to introduce myself. My brother Erik and I are the team from Complete Malevolence and we were informed that you have our next clue, and since we just happened to find this voting card that we were told you would want in exchange for the clue...

Bernard took the glasses of mildly glowing green liquid from the bartender

"Thank you very much good sir. Your kindness and generousity are surpassed only by the atmosphere of this exquisite establlishment."

he pays for the drinks leaving a handsome tip and heads back towards the table with his new 'friend'

"And what are these delectables that you bring us?"

"These are something called 'Ecopoiean Delight's'. Apparently they are made of entirely natural ingredients without even harming the plants that those ingredients came from. Something about waiting for the vines to volunteer their fruits for harvest."

"Oh yes, I've heard of that. The extra ripening time grants a more full bodied flavour and strengthens the drink."

"Really? I guess we'll find out."Bernard raises his glass "To the trees, from whence we should never have descended!"

"To the seas, where we could have stayed to leave the trees in peace!"

"To the earth. It would be better off without us!"

"Agreed! Cheers."

"Cheers."

the two down their drinks, sputter and wheeze for a moment before Bernard get his bearings again to look at his still reeling comrade

"I asked them to bring us over a few more. Each. Are you up for it?"

"I suppose I can have a few more. I did get a bit of a start on you this evening though, so I may have to call it a night a bit earlier than you."

"Quite alright, my good man. Having a rational friend to share a few drinks with for even some of the evening is better than none at all."

their drinks are delivered a moment later

"To the environment!"

"To the Environment!"

As his new friend downs his second drink, Bernard quickly doses the rest of his comrades drink with some of Lina's tranquilizer medication that he keeps on hand for when she gets a little unstable while they're out in public, then downs his own Delight quickly, which brings on a head rush usually only associated with falling from the top of an airplane in flight while you're sleeping off the after effects of drinking too many Ecopoeian Delights. This feeling has come to be known throughout parts of the civilized world as a Rush of Foreshadowing because, after experiencing it while drinking, subjects tend to wake up by falling off the top of an airplane in flight where they were trying to sleep off the after effects of drinking too many Ecopoeian Delights. None of this information went through Bernards mind as he tried to desperately cling to reality for two major reasons. The first was that Bernard was not aware of this information in the first place. The second was that a side effect of a Rush of Foreshadowing was a temporary yet complete inability to form properly coherent thought

"shay...hic...whyee dooo yooooouu tthhlinxch thsat jhish shtuffs glooooowwwssssss....sssss...sssss....'ike 'at? at? ......at?......d'ya think?"

"w---well....y'see....Bernie....c'nIcallyaBernie?"

"n...nope...a'saNO"

"K....so....da glllow....da glow is from....Bernie....are..are you ....lissenin..Berrrrrrrnieeeeee? yeah? coo......teh gloooowww is cuz they use the most eniromntly fr..fr-froo-nice stuff for da da...da da daboodeedabooda....process"

"whasatmeeeenn, do? do...don calmeBern..fckin 'ate at name."

"shhhhuure ting Bernie. Da dish...ditst...bishti....stills.. are old wormwood trunkss tha da bir-bir-bir-....flying thingies ha hollowed out."

"Wooorrrrmmmmwoooodd?"

"Yea....'skina hallu...hallo...hula....makes you see shit. ain it great Bernie?"

"Have a fuggn drink 'afore I kill you fer calln me Bernie."

the nameless drunk smirks and downs his drugged Delight

"Whathicer you say Berrnie" he smirks again

Bernard starts to rise to his feet, the Rush beginning to fade

"My name" he says as he brings himself to full height "is BERNARD!"

he readies himself to fly across the table to spear tackle his tormentor, but sees that the copious amounts of Delight and rohipnol have already done their magic.

"Fuggn guy....oughta just clubbed him like a baby seal."

Bernard staggers around the table, gently nudges the sleeping man

"Dude....dude....yo akay dude? I'm just gonna borrow this so your vote will be cast for you kay....can't have your nation missin their vot cuz you was drunk "

Bernard deftly slips his hand into the man's jacket pocket and pulls out his wallet. Having finely developed his financier's instincts, he knows exactly where to find items of value. He draws out the unconsciously Delight'ed man's voting card and returns the wallet to it's proper position.

Rising again, Bernard slowly walks very carefully back towards the bar, signalling Neville as he goes

"My good Man....hic.....I...believe...that I....have...had...WAAAAYYYY....too much to drink. I also believe....there's a gent there waves in the direction of the table he just left who will need to sleep for a while."

Bernard starts to turn away, then stops and turns back

"Oh yeah...he pulls out the voting card he swiped from his new drinking friend I believe that you may have something for me to exchange for this."

A broad, drunken grin spreads across his face

The young, slim, Islenskan ambassador was deep in thought at his table while he continuously eyed the entrance. Was Christelle still here? That question seemed to run through his mind over and over and over, nothing else could sidetrack it. Except for recieving a drink.

Looking to the waiter, he took the three glasses and set them down before asking who sent them. Turning towards the direction that he was pointed in, he pressed his palm over his face and shook his head. Karmicarians. No doubt they were trying to get him drunk. However, it would be rude to not accept a drink from a fellow Antartic Oasian, so he held up a glass towards the table and then took a sip before turning back around so he could watch the Strangers' Bar entrance again.

Lord-General Cecil A. Mallory wanders into that bar and turns to the bartender.
"Your finest whicky please, and quickly!"

Dr. Hodz silently wonders what a "whicky" is.

Hodz, who was still completely composed, and almost entirely not dizzy, ran up to something resembling a computer terminal and inserted a credit card. A ping came from the computer as well as a person saying "Bill paid!"

*Gasp* could that mean i have the largest tab, bill, whatever in the Bar!?


Dr. Hodz silently wonders what a "whicky" is.

those crazy Navanonians, thought TBEM to himself

"And this, Carolina, is the Stranger's Bar," said Caterina as she opened the door to the smoke-filled, liquor-smelling room.
"Do the staff at our delegation frequent this bar?"
"I don't think so. It's your first time, right?"
"Si," Carolina agreed. "Why won't Madame Ambassador go here?"
"I have no idea- "
"DEA!! ME OJECI VELTU CARINA C'HE MOLTA!"
(Goodness! I see so many cute guys!)

Caterina let out a deep sigh. Typically Carolina. Always out for guys.

those crazy New Anonians, thought TBEM to himself
OOC: The adjective form is actually "Navanonian" ;)

"DEA!! ME OJECI VELTU CARINA C'HE MOLTA!"


Dr. Hodz, who was facing away from the entrance to the bar (wherever that is), became rather frightened at this outburst.

He flinched and dropped his glass of liquor on the floor. It broke into several pieces.

Within minutes, a gnome was cleaning it up and scowling at anyone he looked at with disapproval.

Hodz got a glass of gin and tonic.

OOC: The adjective form is actually "Navanonian" ;)

really srry fixed it :)

"And this, Carolina, is the Stranger's Bar," said Caterina as she opened the door to the smoke-filled, liquor-smelling room.
"Do the staff at our delegation frequent this bar?"
"I don't think so. It's your first time, right?"
"Si," Carolina agreed. "Why won't Madame Ambassador go here?"
"I have no idea- "
"DEA!! ME OJECI VELTU CARINA C'HE MOLTA!"
(Goodness! I see so many cute guys!)

Caterina let out a deep sigh. Typically Carolina. Always out for guys.


Looked over in the direction of the new delegation that had entered the bar, but he recognised they were speaking Nord-Brutlandese. "Huh, i haven't heard that language spoken in a while" he thought to himself.

"I haven't heard it at all! Translation please! And where the hell is my whicky!?"

Carolina scanned the bar, eying people she could potentially hook up with.

"Carolina! Qui doci tu?"
Carolina turned around. "What am I doing? You know what I am doing."
"Carol, tu innece tu ici a fame saperla. Do della do riesco, il breche ci a nome cattiva. Comproteche stu."
"I know, I know!" Carolina said as she sat on a barstool beside a blue-eyed man. "And why are you speaking to me in Nord-Brutlandese?"
"C'e devio comprendeche," Caterina replied. Her mobile phone rang. "Hello? Caterina... Me innece... ti sunt... nove??"
"Who was that?"
"Madame Ambassador. She wants me at the office. Want to come?"
"No," Carolina said. "I'll stay."
Caterina gave her the look.
"I said no... or you want me to say it in Nord-Brutlandese?"
"Okay, okay," Caterina said, raising her hands in surrender. She turned her back and headed for the door, wondering why did she even bring Carolina to the Stranger's Bar. Bah. She'll get Bruno to fix any mess.

At the bar...
Carolina crossed her shapely legs and leaned forward on the counter. She then said in her sensual voice, "Can I have a glass of your best-tasting wine?"

Cornelius saw the newcomer enter the Bar. He thought the charitable thing to would be to wander over and introduce himself.

"Hello. I'm Cornelius Higginbotham, rep for New Archadia. Welcome to our august body."

Cornelius grinned, making him look rather younger.

"I seem to spend a great deal of time here, too. One of the reasons I accepted this post was to cut down an other amount of paperwork, and I've found that there's even more!"

Cornelius indicated a table, sitting just to the side of the Bar.

"How about you grab a seat for us, and I'll get us a drink. What would you like?"

Hello Sir Higginbotham. I believe I would enjoy an iced wampifroglette... a delicious local favorite with a hint of mint, and an overwhelming odor of bog floating just off the top of the drinking vessel.

"I haven't heard it at all! Translation please! And where the hell is my whicky!?"

"you know i think ill have one of those too" said The Blue Eyed Man to Neville, and then he turned to the rather attractive young lady who just sat down next to him. "Can i get you a drink"?

"you know i think ill have one of those too" said The Blue Eyed Man to Neville, and then he turned to the rather attractive young lady who just sat down next to him. "Can i get you a drink"?
"Sure," Carolina said, turning to face the blue eyed man. With her trademark naughty smile, she continued, "Though I've already asked for a glass of wine, I bet you'd be much better in picking the drink. After all, I'm pretty new here, and I think you're much more experienced..."

"I don't think we should do that to that particular Ambassador. He is from an Antarctic Oasis nation, so..um...yeah."

"Fine then. Neville, hold those drinks for a moment, please." The pair looked around to see if they could spot another victim. Sure enough, there was a Geeky looking man sitting in the corner. "There! That one. Send your strongest drinks over to him, Neville!" Tana pulled out a wad of cash and set it on the bar. "That should cover it."

"This should be fun. Good pick, Tana dear."

"Thank you. Look, he has the drinks. Shall we join him?" she smiled wickedly as she headed towards the table. He didn't seem to notice them, but Tana cleared her throat, which startled the poor man.

"Y-yes?"

"Mind if we join you, handsome?" she smiled as she leaned in and winked at him.

"Um..sure...have a seat. Are you the one who sent over these drinks?"

"Yes, darling. I spotted you sitting here all alone and thought you could use a drink or...um...twelve."

"Thank you, but I don't drink."

"What? Come now, the stress of being an Ambassador must get to you. Have a drink and relax. Here, I'll have one with you so that you're not drinking alone." she stared at him with her big, blue eyes.

"Er..um...okay. I suppose it won't hurt." he shrugged and downed the first glass. "Wow! That's some strong stuff! What is it?"

"I'm not sure, but it sure is tasty. Now, let's drink up!" she leaned over to Tristan and whispered in his ear, "This is going to be easier than I thought." Tristan smiled and continued to watch the poor sap.

"So...what's your name? I'm Joh..<hiccup> John. Wow...this some...good...stuff...<hiccup>"

Surprised that it took so little, Tana stood and walked behind him. Wrapping her arms around him, she whispers in his ear, "Would you like to come home with me?" causing him to choke on his drink a little, as he turned to look at her.

"Uh..me?"

"Yes, you silly." she giggled as she leaned in more so she could reach his pockets. "Drink up and then we can go somewhere that's more....private" she hissed.

"But..but...yous...o....purty...oh...I think I'm toooo drun...<hiccup> drun....<hiccup> wasted."

"Aww...that's okay, darling. Some other time then." she grinned at Tristan as she revealed the voting card. Sliding it into her back pocket, she returned to her seat. "Well, if that's the way you feel, then so be it. Here, this is my card. If you change your mind, just give me a call." she threw a business card on the table, stood and headed back to the bar. "Well, that worked out nicely, didn't it Tristan?"

"Indeed. Now, let's give that to Neville so we can get our next clue." He grabbed the card out of her pocket and quickly walked up to Neville. "Here you go, good Sir. We'll take our next clue now, please."

As Lina approaches behind him, Bernard tries his level best to make out the words on the slip of paper that has been handed to him by the barkeep.

"What does it say sweetie bum?"

"Shomethin bout I'm bein rrestedededdd"

"What?"

"Apperntly, I'm gonna jail."

"Are you drunk?"

"Mebbe a little. But the colours are pretty"

"You're seeing pretty colours?"

"Soooo many of them. 'sfrum the woooorrrrmrrrmmmmmwwooooodddddd. It's all vry tec-tec....techno...smarty stuff...you wouldna unnerstan.."

"YOU'RE HIGH!"

"Ang How!"

Lina snatches the clue from Bernard's grasp and goes over the information. Bernard responds a few moments later by tracing the evanescent light trail left by it's departure from his hand. Lina ponders for a moment, looking around the bar for the most disreputable lout she can see. Realizing that that barely narrows down the list, she instead undoes the top few buttons of her blouse to reveal the upper edge of her lacy red bra. A few "woohoos" later, she has managed to narrow the list somewhat.

"I NEED A MAN WHO CAN SHOW ME WHAT IT REALLY MEANS TO BE KEELHAULED IN A HOTEL ROOM!"

Amidst the confused stares, there is but a single man whose head perks up. He rises, slightly unsteadily, and swaggers over in a fashion that makes those around him sea-sick.

"Allo, my pretty. Captain McXiminez, ready fer all yer sailorin needs."

"Good day Mr McXiminez. Tell m-"

"Captain. It's Captain McXiminez"

"Oh, of course, very sorry Captain. How very impressive. Where does your ship hail from, Captain?"

"From wherever I bloody well please, miss. Those Flurthwellian bastards have stranded me 'ere for now. Now then, what's this about a keelhaulin?"

"In good time, my captain. I must quickly attend to something before I can be fully prepared for my...punishment. Don't go anywhere; I'll be back before you miss me."

Before the man has a chance to respond, she turns and drags Bernard towards the Express elevators to the Main Floor

"Whererererererweeee goin?"Bernard asks as the door closes

Dr. Hodz pulled a megaphone out of his pocket.

"EVERYONE! DRINKS ARE ON ME!"

He attempt to put the megaphone back in his pocket, though it apparently comes out easier than it goes in. Oh well, he thought, and tossed across the Stranger's Bar.

OOC: So now there's always a megaphone in the Bar.

Wolfgang, having had the misfortune to have incredibly good hearing and have been right next to Hodz during his announcement, covered his ears briefly and then spun around and shot the bullhorn in midair with his SD gun. "Ow."

He really, REALLY wanted to ignore the farce debate that was currently driving him mad(der), but he had to keep an eye on IX-8492. AIs had just been granted citizenship recently, and many people were still unsure. All they needed was for one to go on a mad rampage and blow up the planet or something, and they'd probably be scared out of their minds. So far the electronic bugger was doing quite well. He was one of the most patient beings Wolfgang had ever seen. Of course, given the Guardians' tempers about some subjects, that wasn't much of a stretch.

Akia downs a neat shot of vodka with a grimace, not for the alcohol but for the activities in which her job currently forces her to partake. "Keep 'em coming, barkeep. This particular mindsore will take all your precious skills to surmount." She eyes the small mountain of memorandums and documents in front of her with a barely stifled moan and sweeps them into her purse of holding until she can find the mindset to tolerate reading them. Sighing and straightening her glasses, she turns to Wolfgang.

"So...are you of the opinion that I'm wasting my time with this....contemptible MALE and his so-called 'proposal'? I don't blame you for leaving, and I wish I could just allow the issue to out. By the Librarian, I wish I could simply stand by and watch this one continue to soar, taunting the waves I and other concerned persons create in its wake. Such a condemnable beast it is, born with no regard for its fellows, bred for its ability to transcend inclusive thought by riding thermals of emotional appeal, and raised as a dangerous and camouflaged thing riding to hunt while giving the appearance of prey." She gazes almost wistfully out the window next to her table. "In the old world, in the wilds of my original home, such a beast would have been respected and feared, hunted and loved, revered and even worshiped for its cunning and skill. Here, however..." She trails off for a moment.

Akia looks away from the window and into her empty shot glass, gripping it as sadness gives way once more to anger and frustration. "Such a thing has no place here. In this world it is nothing more than a tool for those who would wish to use its talents to further their own, self-righteous ambitions. It is a tool of the ignorant and the knowing alike, made to manipulate the desires of well-meaning people and mold them to fit the image of its user. It has become nothing more than a daemon, and a petty politician's ladder to power!" Akia slams her shotglass on the table so hard it nearly cracks in two, and the table sounds with the harsh beat of a courthouse gavel. "I will not see such intelligence put to such ends! I will not stand idly by while the gifts I have sworn to protect are so abused and innocent people's rights are laid to waste! When I was elected to this office I swore an oath to protect the minds and intellects of all those capable of using them, and I will not rest until that oath is fulfilled. No matter how long it takes, no matter what barriers I encounter, I will NOT back down nor cease my efforts until either the sapient are recognized or this monster is slain and its master cast down with it. No one stomps on intelligence on my watch and gets away with it. No one!"

Her eyes nearly burning with vengeance and rage, Akia takes her communicator from her purse and contacts her assistants. She orders for a call to be made for the armies of all of Intellect and Arts's close allies to prepare for action and be put on immediate standby. A tear falls down her cheek as she turns off her communicator. She dreads the idea of battle, but she knows it's her duty as President and as Delegate to prepare for the worst.

By the grace of the Librarian, she whispers, clasping the mysterious medallion she always wears, may it never come to that.

Wolfgang was thoroughly startled and almost on the brink of tears to hear such an eloquent statement, especially here in The Bar. "I agree. Even insects in the Commonwealth are treated with respect. Our houses capture and release them back into the outdoors. Our bleeding vehicle's airscreens are specifically designed to protect all life!" He banged his fist down upon the bar. "Fear not, madame. The proposal in its form will either not succeed, or will be removed in short order. There's no further reason for us to try to reason with him. That I'm sure of!"

Christelle walked into the Bar, looked around, and smiled a slight, almost nostalgic smile. She moved over to the bar.

" 'morning, Neville! How good are you at throwing a party?" She paused, and explained: "I'm retiring."

"Such a condemnable beast it is, born with no regard for its fellows, bred for its ability to transcend inclusive thought by riding thermals of emotional appeal, and raised as a dangerous and camouflaged thing riding to hunt while giving the appearance of prey." She gazes almost wistfully out the window next to her table. "In the old world, in the wilds of my original home, such a beast would have been respected and feared, hunted and loved, revered and even worshiped for its cunning and skill. Here, however..." She trails off for a moment.

"Poignant. Very poignant." Hodz said, rather speechless by Aria's remarks.

"Such a thing has no place here. In this world it is nothing more than a tool for those who would wish to use its talents to further their own, self-righteous ambitions. It is a tool of the ignorant and the knowing alike, made to manipulate the desires of well-meaning people and mold them to fit the image of its user. It has become nothing more than a daemon, and a petty politician's ladder to power!"

"Well, such is the UN, and it wouldn't be the UN without self-righteous bastards (like myself) who try to bend the UN to their will. But competition is the stuff of life."

Hodz took a drink. He was going to need it, he supposed.

"There's not a whole lot we can do. We can try and twist this guy's arm, but we'll probably rip it off and realize that it's fake. Both sides are apparently relentless, which means that compromise will not be easy."

Hodz sighed.

"Oh, and, if you're going to have a war, count us in. We've been getting rather bored recently."

Christopher glanced down at his watch. It was getting late and he thought it best to probably just leave. It was within that period, where his eyes were taken from the door, the someone entered. He hadn't really noticed until he heard the voice, and he practically jumped out of his seat, catching his foot on one of the seat's legs and tripping over. Stumbling, he fell on the floor and then looked up, seeing the familiar woman he had waited all night for, and then hearing her say she was retiring.

"Christelle?"

OOC: I thought you'd ceased to exist. Welcome back!

IC:
Christelle smiled at him warmly.
"Christopher. Yes, darling, my successor will be arriving... any time now, really."

"Hodz, my dear," Akia laughs, "you may be a self-righteous bastard, but even you wouldn't deny the existence of an entire class of people. You acknowledge the existence, even the personage, of Wolfgang here and his companions." Before he can object, she raises a hand to silence him. "There's no point in denying it, I've seen you do it. You may have an awkward manner of interacting with him, but you still find him worthy of said interaction. You do not, unless my observations are mistaken, view him as a lesser being. These abuses of power are what I fight, and you simply don't qualify."

She sighs and sips at her orange tea whilst waiting for her next round of vodka. "Now, as to your offer of military assistance, it would be rude of me not to accept. Just know that I hold no love for this manner of difference solution and use it only by necessity and the mandate of my position. If your soldiers or militia or what have you require encampment facilities close to the planned battle location, you'll find they'll receive a much warmer welcome amongst The Sons of Kortoth or Elven Spellswords than from the citizens of Intellect and Art. Elven Spellswords has more magical and honor-bound warfare resources, and The Sons of Kortoth's men are so warlike and militant they could be mistaken for Spartans. My country has no military, but I will be accompanying those on the forefront of battle. Make no mistake, I can fend for myself in a fight just as well as any other. I'm no pushover." She fingers her medallion. A highly perceptive person would almost believe it to be sparking, or flashing slightly, whenever Akia's mind turns to battle.

"I think that if our military were to "encamp" anywhere, they'd just stay on the naval fleets. That should be sufficient enough. And if not, they can wait in orbit high above whatever planet the battle is located on."

Hodz sipped whatever it was he was drinking. He had forgotten what it was, but he didn't care.

Meanwhile, Harpo, Akimonad's Vice UN Ambassador, wanders over and produces a bottle of vodka from his coat, setting it down near Akia.

OOC: The player behind Neville is having problems with internet access. Please assume Neville's hovering round being useful but too busy to chat. If you notice him interacting with Omigodtheykilledkenny's characters, that's not godmoding, that was prearranged. Violet's still there for writing in as anyone chooses, and there's always Jimmy, the part-time barman.

"Sure," Carolina said, turning to face the blue eyed man. With her trademark naughty smile, she continued, "Though I've already asked for a glass of wine, I bet you'd be much better in picking the drink. After all, I'm pretty new here, and I think you're much more experienced..."


Quickly taking Dr. Hodz up on his generosity The Blue Eyed Man ordered two of the first drink he thought of.
"Jimmy, my good man can you please get the two of us some highballs? thanks. I'm The Blue Eyed Man by the way, what's your name?" he asked Carolina.

Dr. Hodz pulled a megaphone out of his pocket.

"EVERYONE! DRINKS ARE ON ME!"

Cerys took a mournful look at the quarter pint or so of beer left in her glass. She really ought to get back to smoothing over the incredible mess the Steward was making of things anyway.

"OK," she said, and wandered over to Dr Hodz. Then in one swift move she upended her glass over him before putting it back on the bar. Always put your empties near the bar staff, her father had taught her.

"Well, you did ask for it," she told the now slightly damp doctor, and left.

(OOC: some alt.callahans habits never leave you :-)

"Jimmy, my good man can you please get the two of us some highballs? thanks. I'm The Blue Eyed Man by the way, what's your name?" he asked Carolina.
"Carolina. Carolina Entelbucco. But you can just call me Carol for short," she winked at him. She was truly fascinated by those blue eyes! Her fixation was cut short when the bartender put down their drinks on the bar.
"By the way, I work in the Nord-Brutlandese Office," she said, taking the glass and sensually sipping its contents. "And you? You seem to be a very nice person..."

"Carolina. Carolina Entelbucco. But you can just call me Carol for short," she winked at him. She was truly fascinated by those blue eyes! Her fixation was cut short when the bartender put down their drinks on the bar.
"By the way, I work in the Nord-Brutlandese Office," she said, taking the glass and sensually sipping its contents. "And you? You seem to be a very nice person..."

"Hello Carol", he said smiling before grabbing his drink. "Im not sure what you could call me, i don't really have a name but most people call me The Blue Eyed Man. Oh, and im the UN Ambassador/Delegate/Representative Person-thingy from Cookesland." He was in a sorta daze, she spoke with an eloquence he rarely had heard before.

"Hello Carol", he said smiling before grabbing his drink. "Im not sure what you could call me, i don't really have a name but most people call me The Blue Eyed Man. Oh, and im the UN Ambassador/Delegate/Representative Person-thingy from Cookesland." He was in a sorta daze, she spoke with an eloquence he rarely had heard before.
"Person-thingy," she chuckled at the term. "Oh admit it, you are a very important guy," she smiled and took another sip of her drink. "Are you called "the blue eyed man" because people keep forgetting your name every time they see your eyes? ... 'cause you know what, I like your beautiful eyes..."

OOC: Sorry about vanishing like that. Life caught up with me and wouldn't let go.

IC:

Christopher scrambled to get up, finally unhooking himself from the chair after a good kick that knocked it over. Pushing himself up, he wiped at his clothes, and then moved closer to Christelle. He frowned a bit, head tilted downward, and looking somewhat like a puppy that had done something wrong and knew it was about to be scolded, "Christelle, I'm sorry about leaving. Things got hectic in Islenska, and I was called back."

"So, with a replacement coming... that means you're leaving, right?"

"Person-thingy," she chuckled at the term. "Oh admit it, you are a very important guy," she smiled and took another sip of her drink. "Are you called "the blue eyed man" because people keep forgetting your name every time they see your eyes? ... 'cause you know what, I like your beautiful eyes..."

he smiled as she said that last sentence, and then said "Actually i'm an amnesiac and i can't remeber anything about myself for the past two years. I woke up in a hospital in Cookesland and they said someone had found me on a beach. I told the nurse i didn't know my own name so she just wrote down Blue-Eyed Man. Well i really just didn't want a new name until i remembered my real one so i just held on to it."

OOC: Sorry about vanishing like that. Life caught up with me and wouldn't let go.


OOC: That's OK, but we now have a bit of a time synch problem. Presumably for you only a few weeks have passed. By the way I've been measuring time, over 14 years have passed (hence why Christelle is leaving). I add on 4 years to my nation (and all my characters) with every new edition of the NationStates World Cup. When you ceased to exist, I had to decide how to move forward. Most people in the Bar have, by now, met Christopher and Christelle's son. ;)

Never mind, though. Time is fluid. Or something.


IC:
Christelle smiled at Christophe gently, lovingly. She touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers.

"Yes... I'm leaving. Leaving the UN. But... I'll still be here for you. You know that." She smiled softly. "And no, of course I'm not annoyed at you. Look into my eyes." When he did so, she kissed him gently. "I love you..." she whispered.

he smiled as she said that last sentence, and then said "Actually i'm an amnesiac and i can't remeber anything about myself for the past two years. I woke up in a hospital in Cookesland and they said someone had found me on a beach. I told the nurse i didn't know my own name so she just wrote down Blue-Eyed Man. Well i really just didn't want a new name until i remembered my real one so i just held on to it."
Her heart reached out to him. Poor guy... it's so bad when you can't remember things about your... past, she thought. Well if there is something she can do...
"But do you remember about your childhood or at least get some... what do you call it... ah, flashbacks. Do you get them?? Might be the first step in getting your memory back soon so you could tell me your name... but tell me, did your amnesia, um, well, prevent you from doing things... I mean like understanding complex stuff" - she added sweetly - "or dating and going out?"

Her heart reached out to him. Poor guy... it's so bad when you can't remember things about your... past, she thought. Well if there is something she can do...
"But do you remember about your childhood or at least get some... what do you call it... ah, flashbacks. Do you get them?? Might be the first step in getting your memory back soon so you could tell me your name... but tell me, did your amnesia, um, well, prevent you from doing things... I mean like understanding complex stuff" - she added sweetly - "or dating and going out?"


"Nope nothing of my childhood or anything, and no flashbacks, but it doesn't stop me from stuff like riding a bike, or speaking different languages or.....dating". he smiled after that and said, "Don't worry about it, im okay now and thats all that matters".

The Islenskan ambassador was a bit surprised and a little more than relieved at Christelle's response. And, never one to waste an opportunity, he kissed her in return. Breaking the kiss, Christopher sighed, feeling all those anxieties melt away again. Putting his arms around her, he gave her a big hug and gently placed a kiss on her forehead, "I love you too."

Taking a step back, he glanced at his watch, and then Christelle, smiling, "I don't suppose you have time for a drink, do you?"

Christelle smiled lovingly, relaxing with a sigh into his arms.
"For you, I've got all the time in the world." She caressed his cheek, then pressed her lips very softly, teasingly, against his. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting," she whispered. "I'll make it up to you."

"Nope nothing of my childhood or anything, and no flashbacks, but it doesn't stop me from stuff like riding a bike, or speaking different languages or.....dating". he smiled after that and said, "Don't worry about it, im okay now and thats all that matters".
Carolina was both reassured and excited. This man can date! Maybe she'll wait for him to make the first move... oh no, why don't she make the move? But it seems that for all her world-famous bravado in asking guys out, she cannot ask this one. It seems that she's afraid of him... rejecting her? God knows how much tissue packs she consumes every time some tasteless ass-guy reject her advances.

"Well, I'm glad that you are... fine," she said. It was all she can say. Running though her head were a swirl of emotions and thoughts and who-knows-what-else. But she felt different around this particular guy. It wasn't just because this man was cute but something more - she had an instant attraction. No doubt Caterina and others at the office would just dismiss this as one of her flings, but then she would actually change for this man. If she could only get him to ask...

While Kawaiian religious pilgrims were frequently seen in the Strangers' Bar these days, the actual diplomatic staff of that nation had rarely shown up recently. The appearance of two nekomusume, accompanied by a pair of Happiness Policewomen, marked an exception to that. The older of the of the two cat-eared former shrine maidens--the deputy Nuncia--walked over to the bar and bowed politely to Neville, saying, "Could we have a pot of green tea please, and four cups?

"And the mah-jongg set," the junior nekomusume added.

"Well, I'm glad that you are... fine," she said. It was all she can say. Running though her head were a swirl of emotions and thoughts and who-knows-what-else. But she felt different around this particular guy. It wasn't just because this man was cute but something more - she had an instant attraction. No doubt Caterina and others at the office would just dismiss this as one of her flings, but then she would actually change for this man. If she could only get him to ask...

This was weird, he was looking straight at Carol and he felt different then he ever had before. it was a warm, kinda uplifting feeling he had in the pit of his chest.

As he looked straight into her beautiful eyes, his head was swirling around with different thought,but one came to mind suddenly. It was of something strange the image of a large gray ship, a storm, waves. He shook his head and took a sip of his drink.

"So...well...umm...are you seeing anybody right now"? his stomach turned into a knot as soon as he said it. He prayed her answer was the one he was hoping for.

This was weird, he was looking straight at Carol and he felt different then he ever had before. it was a warm, kinda uplifting feeling he had in the pit of his chest.

As he looked straight into her beautiful eyes, his head was swirling around with different thought,but one came to mind suddenly. It was of something strange the image of a large gray ship, a storm, waves. He shook his head and took a sip of his drink.

"So...well...umm...are you seeing anybody right now"? his stomach turned into a knot as soon as he said it. He prayed her answer was the one he was hoping for.
Carolina's heart almost leaped out of her bosom. Oh my goodness! He - he... no, he did not ask me out, she thought. Well, technically. He is asking me if I am seeing anybody!

"Um, no. I'm not seeing anybody," she said, and adding a touch of her kind of humor, "except you."

OOC: Page 400 w00t!


Carolina's heart almost leaped out of her bosom. Oh my goodness! He - he... no, he did not ask me out, she thought. Well, technically. He is asking me if I am seeing anybody!

"Um, no. I'm not seeing anybody," she said, and adding a touch of her kind of humor, "except you."

"hehehe" he chuckled then what he guessed a teenager must feel like, "would you go out with me?"

OOC: Page 400 w00t!
OOC: I was eying for that too! ;)


"hehehe" he chuckled then what he guessed a teenager must feel like, "would you go out with me?"
Carolina's brain went on an overdrive. He is asking me out! Oh my goodness!

"Si," she automatically answered in Nord-Brutlandese, but quickly translated it to English, "I mean, yes!" She had this big happy grin and was on the verge of jumping up and down from excitement and glee. But she composed herself, (as a stereotypical Brutland gal would) but there was nothing she could add... her mind was getting busy imagining him with her...

"Hey, Violet," a wabbitish voice very quietly enquired somewhat further along the bar, "has somebody been lacing the drinks here with love-potion again ?"

OOC: I was eying for that too! ;) OOC: lol :p


Carolina's brain went on an overdrive. He is asking me out! Oh my goodness!

"Si," she automatically answered in Nord-Brutlandese, but quickly translated it to English, "I mean, yes!" She had this big happy grin and was on the verge of jumping up and down from excitement and glee. But she composed herself, (as a stereotypical Brutland gal would) but there was nothing she could add... her mind was getting busy imagining him with her...

He smiled instantly and kissed her softly on the cheek. "I was hoping....." he grabbed his head for a minute as if in pain. he shook it off, and then held it again..."Does any one have an aspirin"?

Akia smiles, barely holding back laughter. "Careful, Blue-Eyes. Don't you know kissing girls makes you sleepy?" Unable to hold herself for much longer, she hands him a small bottle of painkillers and goes back to her seat by the window, giggling to herself.


OOC: Cookies and free drinks to anyone who can name the details of that misquote!!!

Invisible Wabbits;12776920']"Hey, Violet," a wabbitish voice very quietly enquired somewhat further along the bar, "has somebody been lacing the drinks here with love-potion again ?"

Upon hearing the voice Bob snapped out of the trance he had entered some time back after finding out Ennish Shandy was no longer being made and told the wabbit, "As long as the drinks aren't being laced with fertility drugs we'll be fine."

Akia smiles, barely holding back laughter. "Careful, Blue-Eyes. Don't you know kissing girls makes you sleepy?" Unable to hold herself for much longer, she hands him a small bottle of painkillers and goes back to her seat by the window, giggling to herself.


OOC: Cookies and free drinks to anyone who can name the details of that misquote!!!

OOC: Wizard of OZ ?

"Thank you, i don't think that Carol is the source of the problem though." The bottle he had suddenly dropped to the floor and he fell off his barstool unconcious.

Akia smiles, barely holding back laughter. "Careful, Blue-Eyes. Don't you know kissing girls makes you sleepy?" Unable to hold herself for much longer, she hands him a small bottle of painkillers and goes back to her seat by the window, giggling to herself.


OOC: Cookies and free drinks to anyone who can name the details of that misquote!!!

A tall, red-haired woman walks into the Bar, carrying a briefcase. She's dressed in a simle black suit, and looks... entirely unhappy. She finds herself a seat, and orders whiskey from the bartender, setting her briefcase in front of her but not opening it.


(OOC: FIREFLY! Wash, saying it to Mal, after he kisses Kaylee on the forehead. Episode is Our Mrs. Reynolds.)

"Thank you, i don't think that Carol is the source of the problem though." The bottle he had suddenly dropped to the floor and he fell off his barstool unconcious.
His fall quickly jump-started Carolina's brain from the sweet warmth of his kiss. She immediately tamped down the urge to panic, scream and get hysterical. Think. Act. She bent down to him and gently tapped him in the cheek, but he won't wake up. Shall I carry him? To where? She doesn't know if there is any clinic in the UN Building...

"Is there any doctor in here??? We need your help!"

She scanned the area for anyone who might look like a doctor. She repeated her call.

"Any doctor in here??"

She flipped open her mobile phone and frantically dialed a number. "Hello? I need an ambulance here right now..."

The doors of the office dramatically swung wide open, was John MacKay, the Bazalonian ambassador who had been missing from the bar for some time.

"Bob" he nodded to the Bob Fibble, and seeming bumped into an invisible rabbit...

"Oh, hi, nice to er, see you." he said... never really knowing what to say to a creature that is invisible.

"Got any Forhey's?" of course John knew they had Forhey's the bar had everything but it was obvious that he was purely asking for some.

Noticing the Cookslandic delegate slumped unconcious... "Don't I remember some ACME machine around here?"

"We better get him in a better position... open up his airways.

"Oh for crying out loud..." Akia walks over to the unconscious man and slips him a restorative pill capable of reviving anyone after any mishap under any circumstances. She then makes use of a blood cleansing strip which she attaches to his arm to remove any malignant impurities, thus ensuring he won't fall again. "Simple technology. Much less fuss." She returns to her table.

(OOC: FIREFLY! Wash, saying it to Mal, after he kisses Kaylee on the forehead. Episode is Our Mrs. Reynolds.) "Barkeep, bring this good ambassador a plate of cookies and a few rounds of whichever drink she may desire. Put it on my tab."

Dr. Hodz noticed the Blue Eyed Man fall unconscious. Must've been the drink, he thought. He was still a little shocked at being called "dear" by Akia. He had been called that before, that was, before his wife became terminally ill. Now he was all that was left. He sighed and took a drink.

"Barkeep, bring this good ambassador a plate of cookies and a few rounds of whichever drink she may desire. Put it on my tab."
Serifina looks up as cookies and whiskey is delivered to her, and smiles. She turns to look in Akia's direction, and bows her head slightly. "Thank you. That's most appreciated. And whom do I have to thank for this generosity?"

Wolfgang sighed, bored as hell. Either the fecal matter struck the oscillating blades, or nothing happened at all. And since he'd consigned IX-8492 to the animal rights farce, he'd nothing to do. Ah, well. He linked himself and began killing things on the net in his head as he downed another nonalcoholic drink. At least it's not hot...

OOC: My air conditioner is broken. My. Air. Conditioner. Is. Broken. There's a reason my country's in the Antarctic! WHERE'S MY COLD? GAAAGH! *melts*

And yes, it's only 90 degrees about. Shaddup! It's too hot!

The Blue Eyed Man opened his eyes slowly "like waking up from a long dream..." then he stood up slowly and rubbed his eyes groggily but could not stop smiling, "Well im never having one of those again." chuckling to himself he said

"Carol, you were wondering what my real name was? now i can tell you, i have my memory back"!