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Snippet #2531460

located in Parliament's Chambers, a part of The Multiverse, one of the many universes on RPG.

Parliament's Chambers

Guests are seated in the gallery, in second and third floor balconies lining the walls of the chamber. It is a high-ceilinged, domed room of stone walls and many windows with a rich, plush carpet among the desks facing a dais in the center, along the fourth wall. On the dais are several ceremonial seats. Members enter through enormous, decorative wooden double doors in the back of the room, only visible from the galleries on either side of the chambers. There is a camera placed inconspicuously high in the dome. Each desk sports a shinny brass plaque with one of the names of the Ministers.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kynala Evantus Character Portrait: Rhea Character Portrait: Sire Mollem McGregor Character Portrait: Lelantus Haima Character Portrait: Arianne Drulovic Character Portrait: Jamal Morrison Lebrun Character Portrait: Rubano Malijin Character Portrait: Vlatko Klaic Character Portrait: Luis Galdámez Character Portrait: Fātiḥ Sayılgan Character Portrait: Janis McMorrow Character Portrait: Raphael E. McGregor Character Portrait: Maximillian "Captain" Dirge Character Portrait: Alison Keating Character Portrait: Express News Character Portrait: Leaf Lotical Character Portrait: Victor Vidal Character Portrait: Charles Kesslee Character Portrait: Najia Okeke Character Portrait: Giles Fabron Character Portrait: Sigurd Olafson Character Portrait: Sarangerel Character Portrait: Chloë McGregor
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He was late, and he knew it. Sigurd sported a vicious cut along his cheek, an accident with a shaver earlier that morning after his secretary had demanded that he 'clean up'. His big, oafish hands had barely been able to fit the tiny blade in his hands and he'd lost track of what they were meant to be doing, so his gigantic hirsute beard still covered a majority of his beard.

Then a tailor had tried squeezing him into a suit, but ultimately left the tailor in a bind with the top jacket wrapped around his head and an angry half-giant stumbling out of the building, tearing the ill fitting, pin covered shirt off his chest. Then he'd had an argument with the authorities outside the building over the oversized axe he was lugging around, and he had to return to his room to put it away much to his sadness.

Sigurd stumbled into parliament and found his seat, almost crushing the groaning chair with his weight. His eyes scanning the room from Drulović , to the diminutive giles. Nay, they were all midgets that he could crush in the palm of his hand, midgets that talked far too much and used too many big words, and he bet they didn't even drink at the end of a long day, or at all.

Sigurd let out a slow, thoughtful groan as he stood. "There is no argument till the son of Olaf is here, and he is!" The giant swung his arms in open challenge. "Where is the booze? Sarangerel said there would be booze." The giant leaned over his seat to look around, all he saw were glasses of water. "Fine. There is no booze." Sigurd sat back down and folded his arms like a spoiled child denied his favorite plaything.

Midgets. The lot of them. Midgets with no booze.