Londo Mollari

The Wilderness, it is not ruins any more, no. Instead, it is a club. It is a club with much to see, and even more to drink.

And so, I propose a crawl. A barcrawl, in the Wilderness. That is what it is called, no? You crawl at the end because you are so drunk you cannot walk? Do not tell me that the one phrase that makes sense I have wrong.

No matter. I think that I am clear in what I am suggesting. Drinking. A great deal of it. Who would like to join?

[A heavy sigh is the first thing that’s heard before Ambassador’s voice speaks.]
Vir. How many gods are there in our pantheon? I have lost count, since the last emperor was elevated to godhood.

[A much younger male voice answers him. It’s nervous and anxious and sounds a little flustered.] 48. No, no, 49. 50, if you count Zuug, but, you know, I never thought you should—

[Ambassador interrupts him.] All right. Let us say 50.

[Vir again.] 50.

[There’s a wry, sarcastic edge to Ambassador’s voice.] Now. Out of that 50. How many gods do you think I must have offended to have ended up with ---‘s teeth buried so deeply in my throat that I can barely breathe?

[A beat.] All of them?

Sounds right. [Ambassador sounded tired.] And now I have to go back to the Council and explain to them that in the interest of peace the Centauri government will agree to “give” Quadrant 37 to the ---. [He sighed.] I think I will stick my head in the station’s fusion reactor. It would be quicker. And I suspect, after a while, I might even come to enjoy it!

[Vir sounded very unsure.] Ambassador, why—

[Ambassador ignored the attempted interruption.] But this, this. This, this is like being… nibbled to death by, uh… [He makes an annoyed noise.] What are those Earth creatures called? Feathers. Long bill. Webbed feet. Go quack.

[There’s a pause, and then Vir sounded triumphant.] Cats!

Cats. [Ambassador sounded disgusted.] I’m being nibbled to death by cats.

At first, after a conversation, I was convinced this was merely indifference. We are changed into things, but it is not because we are liked or hated.

I am going to say something that I will likely never say again. Read close.

I was wrong.

It hates us. All of us.

What I have been DRESSED in is ludicrous! It is not dressing in any sense of the word! And the makeup! AND MY HAIR!

The week off, I need. The month off, if we are not out of these things before then. My house, I am not leaving it.

[[ooc: Ambassador is wearing this, as Klaus Nomi.]]