Tuesday, 09-Feb-99 06:39:02

203.23.41.108 writes:

Notes: Right, a little explanation as to what this story is. I've been in these RR's for quite some time. Heck, I was one of the first SC Round robiners back in the days when it was at the Gen-X archive *nostalgic sniff*. Anyway, enough of that. What I have noticed is that the Bouncer always tends to get a bit mistreated, you might say, in these things.

We're always having him fall for the most blatant of tricks so we can get into the SubCafe. Anyway, I felt that it was time to give him a little pressie.

This story is not going to be about getting into the SubCafe so much as not getting into it. I want you all to write about how you didn't get past the Bouncer :o)

I have faith you'll all be able to think of quite good ways you completely fail to fool him. :)

I'm going to give this RR two weeks. After that, I'll write an ending post and then give it to Kielle to post. So without further adeu, let the fun begin.


"Look I can't let you in, it ain't Writer's night. You know the rules Seraph," the Bouncer said, glaring at the Writer.

Seraph sighed and then smiled disarmingly at the Bouncer, "Well, you can't blame a girl from trying."

The Bouncer narrowed his eyes; "No sneakin' in either, its Majesty the Manager raked me over the coals last week over you lot."

Seraph tried to look innocent, her halo snapping into existence around her body. Her attempt at Manga eyes was a little stunted due to the fact she was human and not an Anime but all would agree it was quite a valiant attempt nevertheless. It also completely and utterly failed to impress the Bouncer. He simply continued to glare at her, looking more like a solid rock of granite with each passing moment.

Seraph sighed, 'Damn, that always worked before. Looks like I'm spending the night in the Writer's Café. They never have any good beer.'

The Bouncer continued to watch the angel through her internal monologue, which, thanks to the miracle of Subreality law appeared in convenient thought balloons above her head. These little balloons were totally invisible to Writers it would seem and a cheap source of entertainment to many a bored fictive.

Seraph finally stopped inner dialoguing and faced the Bouncer, "You sure I can't interest you in this completely harmless and totally innocent mirror I just happened to find just now?" she asked.

The Bouncer had of course been watching her plan form, "Oh come on. Do you seriously expect that to work? I don't know, bloody Writers. Here I am, providing a valuable service to the community at large and do I get any thanks? No. Do I get a 'How's your day been then Mate? No. No, what I get is you lot coming by here, sayin' 'Please Mr Bouncer sir, let us in. Mr Bouncer just stand right there while we write you getting' fooled by yet another lame arsed stunt that a dead budgie could blow holes the size of the bleedin' Titanic in."

Seraph blinked, she hadn't known the Bouncer could be quite so adamant. She began to feel slightly guilty. She supposed it was quite a lame stunt to pull.

"I am hurt, literally wounded to the core. No one ever asks me what I do on off-hours either. I go to museums you know, no one ever thinks to ask about that though. It's just look, a dumb Bouncer...grunt like an ape and then let us in. Bloody Writers, no respect. You do a job, how long is it now? Twenty years and that's what you get. No bloody respect."

Seraph shuffled her feet slightly and looked shame faced, "Um..."

The Bouncer stopped mid rant and glared at the Angelic Writer, "Yeah?"

Seraph's face took on the look of someone suddenly faced with a surprise audit by the Tax department,

"I think I'll just go see if anyone's in the Writer's Café."

Seraph disappeared in a flash of white light and the Bouncer's face lit up into a surprisingly sunny smile. It never failed...No matter how often he used it. They always felt guilty. The Bouncer crossed his arms and settled his face back into it's normal grim facade but a twinkle of amusement dwelt deep in his stoic gaze as he looked out into the slight drizzle that was falling outside the Café.

The Bouncer had used that tactic on and off for the past couple of years. Nothing worked faster for getting rid of a pesky Writer then making them feel guilty. He was quite proud of it really, on very good days he could even squeeze out a tear or two for dramatic effect. The Bouncer's smile turned grim as he saw another Writer walking up the path. They never bloody learned....


Seraph

Friday, 12-Feb-99 22:22:21

203.24.205.3 writes:

"Hello," Rossi said cheerfully, knowing how much this irritated the Bouncer, "Was that Seraph that just vanished?"

"Yes, and no, you're not coming in." The Bouncer's voice was harder than home-made toffee. Rossi blinked, surprised. Something about the Bouncer was... different today. Still, she had to try.

"I'm doing a story," she said, dragging out her smudged and dog-eared Press card out of her back pocket. "The person I'm interviewing was going to meet me here."

"No go," the Bouncer replied, crossing his arms over his chest and doing his best Immovable Object impersonation. "I know for a fact you only interview Writers, and since it's not Writer's Night, you won't be meeting anyone here tonight."

"Bugger," Rossi muttered, scuffing the toes of her ever-present hiking boots in the dirt as she tried to think of another plan. She could always try the sewers. No-one had been that way for a while...

"And I wouldn't even start to think of going down the sewers," the Bouncer said with a twinkle in his eyes that couldn't be amusement, surely... "We've just installed the entire cast of Andrew Vincent's "X" down there as watch-fics." Rossi shuddered. Nothing could possibly be worse than tangling with those misbegotten creatures.

She sighed. 'No wonder Seraph left in such a hurry,' she thought, unaware the Bouncer was reading her thought balloon with no small amount of satisfaction. 'And I don't even _know_ where the Writer's Cafe is.'

"Just go down the street for a couple of blocks and it's the next left after Mharie's Hut," the Bouncer said sagely. He met Rossi's suspiscious glare calmly.

"Fine!" she pouted, after failing in her attempt to intimidate him with sheer glare-power. She stomped off down the street, not hearing the satisfied chuckle behind her.

"Oh this is so much fun..." he said to himself, waving Kai and Logan into the Cafe absently as he watched the short Writer's disappearing form. "I haven't had so much fun since... since _ever_."

Rossi

Tuesday, 16-Feb-99 20:23:55

194.42.231.236 writes:

Cynjen grinned as she watched the Bouncer turn away yet -another- Writer and decided to plagarise the [mostly] late, [definitely] lamented Phil Foster. She walked up to the Bouncer, leant up against the wall next to him and offered him a cigarette. He raised an eyebrow at her.

'If you're trying to get in, it won't work.'

'I'm not,' she replied calmly, pulling her battered black coat around her in the coldness. She wished she had her hat. 'I'm giving you a cigarette because you're non-corporeal and won't get cancer.' She paused, looking him up and down. 'And, besides, you look like you need one.'

He cocked his head to one side thoughtfully and then took the packet from her hand. 'You're too young for this. I'm confiscating them, okay?'

She grinned. 'How is life, anyway?'

He sighed. 'Get going to the Writer's Cafe, kid. Your friends are down there.'

She arched an eyebrow. 'Don't get old manly on me, old man! Tell me your life story, or something! Share your wisdom with a young, impressionable islander.'

He shook his head. 'Not tonight. There are too many of your lot around, and I'm not getting paid to chat.' His eyes scanned the horizon, picking out clandestine shadows, ones to watch. He glanced back at Cynjen. 'I'm sorry about this, kid. I know you mean well, but this really isn't a good time...' He flashed her a wan smile, which she completely understood. She momentarily got a glimse of a life of eternal evening, standing in the twilight outside an over-popular bar/club, trying to stop 'the wrong sort' entering and destroying the place more often than Mhairie got laid.

'Keep yourself safe, babe,' she said, awkwardly hugging him. 'But keep the fags, they're only Jason's...' With a malicious grin, she turned on her [low] heels and disappeared into the darkness.


Cynjen

Wednesday, 17-Feb-99 17:44:47

207.172.140.66 writes:

The door next door opened from the outside and then shut.

"Not this time Willey," The Bouncer replied.
"Huh?" Willey replied.
"L'engle's Bridge. Writer entrance number #47. Paleez, if that isn't predictable," The Bouncer replied.
"Okay, then I'll get in by..." Willey replied.
"... disguising yourself as Gambit. Yeah right," The Bouncer replied.
"How do you keep doing that?"
"Professional secret," Bouncer replied.
"Alright, I guess I'll get in by.."
"....pulling a Multiple Man and trying to confuse me. Fed," The Bouncer said as he duplicated himself. "Anything you can do...."
"Oh damn maybe I'll just..." Willey replied.
"Go to the Writer's Cafe?" The Bouncer replied.
"Uh... yeah. See ya!"


Jess Willey

Thursday, 18-Feb-99 12:00:53

199.107.82.212 writes:

"But I--"

"No."

"But you--"

"No."

"I swear, I'm gonna--"

"No."

"Oooo! That's not fair!"

"The rules apply to everyone, miss. No exceptions." The Bouncer stared at the newest applicant like a hawk, expecting anything. So far, he was disappointed. All she'd done was try to simply sweep regally in past him. No challenge at all.

The writer, for her part, was getting downright huffy. "But -- what about all the times I've lent you a hand?! I'm not just some newbie--"

"Language, miss."

"I'LL SHOW YOU SOME @$#@$&*ING LANGUAGE IF YOU DON'T $#*&#$*ING LET ME IN!!!"

The Bouncer folded his beefy arms implacably. Secretly, he was quite enjoying this and had already decided that he owed Seraph a drink for the idea. It was about time people gave him some credit. "No exceptions. 'No' is an easy word, you know. With YOUR vocabulary, you should be able to handle it."

She gestured helplessly at her notebook. "But, but the site...I have research to do, data to collect on new stories -- the CBFFAs are almost due, the stage needs to be set up, there are characters in there that I HAVE to talk to! It's vital--!"

"Vital, schmital. Go talk to the writers at the Writers' Bar."

"I hate the Writers' Bar! It has NO atmosphere..."

"That's just because no one has bothered to give it any," the Bouncer retorted smugly. "So why don't you do what a Writer does best, and go toddle off to write in your OWN playpen?"

"What-what-WHAT?!?"

"Go be creative somewhere else, kid. Ya bother me."

At this the writer visibly started to steam, but could do nothing against the Bouncer's multi-writer might. "I...you...you haven't heard the last of this. Who started this RR?"

"Figure it out."

"I WILL. See if I don't!"

And with that last dire (if rather pathetic threat), Kielle stomped off into the night.

<chuckling madly>
.-=K=-.




Guess!

Monday, 22-Feb-99 12:35:55

159.218.12.34 writes:

Maria Cline was drinking a soda with her fellow writers. "And so I tried to sneak in using my stealth and teandancy to get ignored. But that didn't work. So I tried to pass off myself as my own Mary Sue. But the bouncer saw it coming. I was fuming and thought up a nasty picture of the bouncer surounded by over a thousand Wolverines (the comic character). And he cried out, 'Don't think like that!' That was too weird."

Everyone nodded. Jess said, "The bouncer kept on anticipating my plans and saying them before I could. I didn't know the bouncer is telepathic."

All the writers who tried to get into the Subreality cafe was sipping soda and beer. (The beer drinkers are those who are over 21) The Writer's cafe was nice. But the writers love interacting with the various fan fics. Getting information about various characters and storylines.

Kielle barged into the Writer's cafe and cried out, "Ok Who started this crazy RR?!"

The other writers looked at each other. Kielle was one of the most powerful writers known. She have one of the most important sites on the internet. In the Writer's cafe, a writer was as powerful as the amount of work that he/she did. Maria asked in a timid way, "Which one?"

"This one! The one we're in right now!"

Everyone looked at each other angerly. Jess Willey said, "It wasn't me. I came after Cynjen."

Cynjen insisted "It wasn't me I came after Maria."

Maria insisted, "It wasn't me. I came after Rossi tried."

Rossi insisted, "It's not me. I came after Seraph tried."

Seraph insisted, "It's not me. I came after er...um...ah..."

All the writers glared at her. "Oops." She squeaked.

*****

Sorry Seraph.

Maria Cline

Monday, 22-Feb-99 19:13:34

203.23.41.95 writes:

Seraph tried to look innocent, usually not much of a feat for an angel,

"It wasn't me---really."

Kielle raised an eyebrow, "Then who was it."

"The Ultimate Writer?"

"No story crossovers while stories are still in sesson. Do you really want all the muses tromping through here?"

"Damn, alright so it was me. He just looked so down...So I thought, why not...just for one night. The Writer's cafe isn't so bad, its got nice wallpaper."

Seraph pointed out the rather cheerful looking black wallpaper...a feat since it was very hard to make black look cheerful. Seraph supposed it was the little skeletons dancing across it.

Seraph

Tuesday, 23-Feb-99 07:21:39

207.172.137.175 writes:

"So you blew this time. You'll do something good later. Count on it. After all, you aren't me. You have redeeming qualities," Willey quipped.

Jess Willey

Tuesday, 23-Feb-99 12:21:14

208.19.232.140 writes:

Ana was muttering under her breath--mainly cursing some guy named Leonard--as she stomped towards the 'Cafe. "BLoody rassum, can't code worth a damn. Stupid editor. Why won't he listen to me? *grumble* Hallo," she mumbled to the Bouncer as she started to enter.

Or tried to. He remained immovable, arms folded and glaring.

She blinked and tilted her head back to look up at him. "Er. Hi. Can I go in?"

"No."

Several expressions flitted across her face, before it settled onto bafflement. "And why not?"

"It ain't a Writer's Night. Now, run along like a good girl to the Writer's Cafe."

"Writer's Night? Writer's Cafe? What? Why don't people tell me these things??" Grumbling she turned, then paused, "They *do* have rose tequila there, right? Oh. Where is it?"

"Turn left at the first star and straight on till morning." He smirked at her.

"Oh great, oh just bloody great. A man with a Shatner-complex." Muttering more dire imprecations under her breath, she conjured up a sign pointing the direction to the Writer's Cafe. It pointed down the road; she stalked off.

"I do not!" He shouted after her.

"They'd better have rose tequila, or I'll be back!"

---
Ser, this is actually going on.. ;)
hugs, Ana/Lyssie..

Ana/Lyssie

Tuesday, 23-Feb-99 23:59:46

203.23.41.101 writes:

Seraph's face took on a resolved look,

"Right you lot, since we're here now I say we liven up this place. The dust alone is an inch thick. So what if we can't get into the SubCafe? Least here we get to kick the fictives out instead of the other way around."

The other writers continued to grumble but a few were beginning to come around.

"Come on guys, where's yer spirit? I'm sure we can get this place rockin' in no time. I'll take the bar and the rest of you pick a spot. As other writers come in we can assign them tasks. Lets get this place up to spec shall we?"



Seraph

Wednesday, 24-Feb-99 02:42:11

202.189.10.75 writes:

The doors flew open with a resounding crash. A dark figure stood there outlined by the fading sunlight, her, err, cardigan flapping dramatically.

"What. The. HELL. Is. Going. On. Here?!"

Ana buried her head in her hands with a low moan. "The Shatner-esque Disease is spreading..."

Seraph leaned casually against the Cafe's grimy counter. "Ran into the Bouncer, did you?" she inquired sweetly.

"Right into his Armani-clad chest." Yasmin flopped down into a seat.

"What happened?"

Maria handed her a can of Coke, which she accepted gratefully.

"I said to him, 'I have to talk to Scott and Ororo! Indigo is already demanding another story... have pity, man' but he just folded his arms and Stared at me." Yasmin took a sip of her drink. "And well... ever heard of the phrase 'my boots are made for walking'?"

"Uh-oh," came a comment from a corner.

"I tried walking all over him, and ended up walking here. Running, actually."

Yasmin M.

Wednesday, 24-Feb-99 08:03:09

203.24.205.3 writes:

The dramatic entrance Yasmin made startled Rossi from where she was clearing out a corner prior to instaling a jukebox. Willey was using his Janitor powers to clean up the rest of the disused Writer's Cafe, furniture running around madly at his command. Rossi missed most of the angry Writer's tirade as she untangled herself from a pile of gutted chairs, but heard the last comment:

"Ever hear the expression these boots are made for walking?"

"Uh oh." Rossi didn't even realise she had said it aloud. She didn't usually notice when she vocalised random thoughts.

"I tried walking all over him, and ended up walking here. Running, actually."

"All I wanted to do was give the poor man a break," Seraph began, wings drooping a little under the barrage of negative Writer vibes. She wasn't normally so sensitive, but there was only so much an angel could take.

"Of course you did," Ana replied, giving the beleagured angel a smile, "That's the way you are. Don't mind us: we're just letting off steam."

Rossi finally lost patience with the old fashioned method of claering up (ie: using physical labour), and pulled out her usual dag-eared wad of A4 paper. On the back of a certified extract for a drink-driving case, she scribbled a few notes, muttering to herself. Instantly the rubbish in the corner vanished, replaced by a glittering jukebox and a karaoke machine beside a small stage with a microphone. She grinned as she pressed a few buttons and "You Sound Like Louis Burdett" by the Whitlams started blaring through the speakers. She danced her way over to the table where the other Writers sat, and plonked herself down in a chair, leaning back and balancing on its back two legs. As an after thought she switched the untouched glass of beer she'd left on the table for a bottle of Strongbow, took a deep draught and sighed with contentment.

"Maybe this place isn't so bad after all, hey guys?" she asked, with another of those mischievous grins. Ana, Maria, Cynjen and Yasmin were looking bewildered at Rossi's sudden unnatural cheerfulness. Or maybe it was the music. "Louis Burdett" was not on a typical commercial radio playlist, even in Australia. Something about using the "F" word in the chorus. Rossi shrugged. If they didn't like the music, they could just change it. They were Writers, after all. She slouched back even further in her chair and waited for someone else to do something.

Rossi

Wednesday, 24-Feb-99 09:14:12

159.218.12.46 writes:

Maria's eyes brighten as her fellow writers started to brighten up the place. She thought "why not?" She grabbed up a nearby broom and started to sweep up the place. "This is too slow." She thought. She grabbed her trusty notebook and wrote up a superpowered vacume. And started to suck up all of the trash, dust, and cobwebs.

"Tim Taylor would be so jealous." She said as she started to suck up all of the broken chairs.

"Hey! Watch it!" Jessi cried out as he held on to his mop to prevent it from getting swollowed by the powered up vac.

"OOps." Maria said. She turned the vacume down to the more normal sucking power.



Maria Cline

Wednesday, 24-Feb-99 14:59:18

195.178.5.28 writes:

Hi everyone. This is the first RR I've ever tried and I don't write much,so please forgive me if I make a mistake. Now on to the show.


Teri quietly walked through the door of the Writers Café. She looked around to see if she could recognize anyone. "Well that’s easy" she thought "the lady with wings must be Seraph". Everyone seemed pretty busy. "I guess they've decided to renovate." "Gee, maybe because The Bouncer is a lot tougher to get past than it seemed in other RR's." "I didn't think I would have any trouble getting in, I even had two plans. The "But I'm not really a writer I haven't posted" got a brusque reply of; "Do you write, do you plan to post, then you are a writer". Plan B never even got off the ground. "Don't even bother to try the "But I am an unfinshed unposted fic". "Just go to the Writers Cafe there's people there tonight". Teri went and found a Cherry Pepsi and dug the Oreos out of her bottomless purse. She noticed that while some people were using manual labor others were writing changes to the Cafe in. "Hmmm," she murmured, "maybe there's hope yet." Out of the Purse of Holding(so named by her husband.) she pulled a spiral bound notebook with a yellow smilely on the cover. Turning to the back cover(the only blank space left) she began to write. A quarter of an hour passed before she was done. Suddenly against the longest blank wall a row of computers phased into existance. There were 10 of them side by side in privacy cubicles. The sign above said "Complements of the Writers Café, free internet access. Comic book universe encyclopedias on CD rom available for sign out at the Bar." Each computer was loaded with the most popular word processing suites and already had every possible FanFic site in the known(and maybe unknown) universe bookmarked. Teri sighed with happiness and went over to make sure all was well with the computers.


Teri J

Wednesday, 24-Feb-99 17:13:04

161.6.71.32 writes:

Shai stepped out of the Gate and straight into the bouncer's arms. She squeaked as he tossed her over his shoulder and walked to the door.

"That was rude," Shai grouched into the bouncer's broad back. She looked up and spotted her two fictives. "Lament, Kristi! Help!!"

The fictives did not appear to hear her. Shai grumbled about "ungrateful fics".

"Is this really neccessary?" She asked the bouncer as they cleared the door.

"Yep!" The bouncer replied cheerfully as he tossed Shai into the street.

Shai thought about using a glamour to get in, but then she felt the bouncer in her head, clearly able to see everything she was thinking. So she returned the favor. "Writer's Café, eh? Sounds like fun. Bai bai, bouncy-poo!" Shai stepped through another Gate into the newly refurbished Writer's Café.

She put on her best bad accent and yelled out: "Lucy, I'm hooome!!"

Ahh, finally got into it. I thought that was rather fun, actually.

Shai PeriHawk

Wednesday, 24-Feb-99 20:10:25

207.225.90.129 writes:

Seraph smiled. Things were going as planned. The writers were writing and the Writer's Café was finally getting some atmosphere. Now, for the most important addition, the bar.

Seraph took a seat on some solidified air. She took her laptop out of its pocket of holding. 'Now, what do I want it to look like?' she pondered.

She looked around the rest of the Café. It had taken on the look of an old English pub, which seemed to be the favourite decor. She hummed brightly as she formed a picture of the bar in her mind and began typing it out on the computer screen. A bar rose from the floor and settled into place, gleaming brass taps popping into existence at various places along its gleaming wooden surface. Bar mats appeared along the bar's surface and stools rose from the floor and also settled into place.

A line of shelves appeared on the wall behind it and bottles popped into existence upon them. Seraph grinned to herself, and placed another command line into the computer. Now, like the SubCafé, that bar would automatically be stocked with whatever it was the customer ordered.

Seraph shook her hands out, and looked upon her creation. Not bad, if she did say so herself. Now all she needed was a bartender. There was a commotion at the door, and a woman stepped inside. Seraph glanced at her briefly noting her appearance, blond hair, worn 40's style to her shoulders, a slim, small frame, wearing a tailor-made blouse and 40's style skirt, both in green. The most unusual thing about her, though, was her six arms.

She glanced around the Café and focused on Seraph, walking over she held out one hand. "Hi, Mary Shiva, I'm your new bartender. Falstaff told me you were looking."

Seraph blinked in surprise. "Yeah, right, when can you start?"

Mary smiled. "Right now."

Seraph gestured towards the bar and Mary walked off, humming softly as she examined the facilities. Now that that was dealt with, she'd have to find a bouncer as well. After all, just as Writers tried to get into the SC some fictives were sure to try and get in here. Seraph wandered outside and, pondering for a second, took out her laptop and wrote a small ad. In seconds someone appeared before her.

"I heard you had a job openin'," said the small boy.

Seraph started for a second and then looked closer. She hadn't been seeing things. It really was Pinnochio. "Ahhh, well...we're kinda looking for someone a bit more..."

"Listen here, I may be small and made out of wood. I may be stuck at eight years old. But *nobody* messes with the guy with the nose."

Seraph raised an eyebrow. "What's to stop people from simply walking over you?"

Pinnochio smiled, "Listen, doll, I've got my secrets and that's one of 'em. Lets just say -- ain't nobody gonna walk over this little wooden boy."

Seraph sighed, 'Why not?' she thought.

"Okay, you're on a trial run as of now. If even one fic gets by, you're out on your arse, get it?"

"Sure, doll, I get it. I'd like to see the mook stupid enough to tangle with me. I took on Moby Dick's big brother all by myself, babycakes. You should watch yourself around me."

Seraph glared at her new bouncer. "Listen up, Splinters, if you ever want to grow up to be a little wooden *man,* then you'll shut up, and you'll like it. Or would you rather be a little wooden girl?"

Pinnochio held out his hands in a calming gesture. "Whoa, there, doll; no need to get threatening! I was only playin' wit' ya. "

Seraph sighed. "Fine, whatever, just don't let any fics through, okay? Think you can do that?"

Pinnochio smiled, "It's what I'm here for, doll."


=======================================


Meta: Right, time for the thanks and such.

Mary Shiva is a creation of Falstaff and used with his permission ;o).

Pinnochio of course belongs to Carlo Collodi but has been changed just a tad for this fic ;o).

A note when writing these characters if you choose to, both a Film noirish types so their speech and mannerisms will show that. Thus Seraph's conversation with Pinnochio.

One more thanks goes to Falstaff for helping me brainstorm that conversation with Pinnochio, and for letting me use Mary Shiva as out new Writer's Café bartender.

Everyone, there's still positions open for the other members of the Staff. The new café's manager, for one.


Seraph

Seraph

Wednesday, 24-Feb-99 23:16:16

207.172.156.69 writes:

Willey morphed his suit into that of one of the king's Musketeers. The feather in his hat kept falling on his forehead.

"I am ready to take my turn gaurding the door Lady Seraph," Willey said politely. He drew his sword and attacked the person who tried to enter and it was....

Jess Willey

Thursday, 25-Feb-99 06:56:30

202.189.10.76 writes:

"JUPITER OAK EVOLUTION!"

Lightning crackled across the sky, blinding any unwary observers. The boom of thunder had just faded when a voice rose up from the door, concern evident in the dulcet tones.

"I'm SO sorry! Instincts just took over... I'll make you triple choc fudge brownies to make up for it, okay? Here, let me help."

A singed Jesse made his way back into the Writer's Cafe, supported by a tall brunette in a sailor outfit. Her wide green eyes surveyed the assembled Writers warily but confidently, lingering a little on Seraph's wings.

"Hi, I'm Sailor Jupiter. I'm here for the cook's job?"

Yasmin raised an eyebrow. "Who's your Writer?"

"No one, actually... I'm more of an unborn potential." She grinned. "Being the Writer's Cafe's cook would probably be better than being a fictive."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Seraph smiled.


Yasmin M.

Thursday, 25-Feb-99 08:57:48

159.218.12.48 writes:

A different person was standing guard in Jess's place when he felt a strange presence. "Who's there?" He asked.

"The Invisible Writer." A voice repied. It was young sounding and innocent.

"I heard about you. You were the one who posted that rant about not getting feedback."

"Yep, that's me."

The new gaurd looked around oddly and he asked, " Are you a writer?"

"Not exactly. I was just an alter-ego of a disgrunted newbie. After I had been taken form I kinda had a life of my own. I was hanging around Subreality Cafe for a little bit. But I made everyone edgy."

The guard asked, "Why are you here?"

"Because I felt that I should be around other writers. I am the personification of the disheartenment of lack of Feedback now. I thought that maybe I can post gaurd for you."

"Why? You cant guard. Noone can see you."

"You don't need to be seen to be an excellent guard." The Invisible Writer did a "Hiya!" And a nearby board broke in half.

"Go inside. Seraph will talk to you about it."

"Thank you."

The door open and closed.

The Invisible Writer He He

Thursday, 25-Feb-99 17:45:58

203.23.41.99 writes:

Seraph tapped Willey on the shoulder, "Willey, we don't need a guard, we've got Pinnocio, he's the Bouncer, it's his job."

"But..."

"Willey, you'd be of more use inside, there's still some stuff to define in there. Now off with you."

Willey looked a little crestfallen but walked back inside. Pinnocio walked up to Seraph and leaned back against the wall beside her, "Problems doll?"

Seraph shook her head, "No, nothing I can't handle. How's it goin'?"

"Great doll, already tore some mook a new arsehole that thought he could get past me."

Seraph raised an eyebrow, "Glad to see you're having fun."

"Always, doll."

Seraph

Thursday, 25-Feb-99 18:21:03

159.218.12.32 writes:

Pinnocio smiled as Seraph left. He felt a small slap on the head.

"Hey!"

"You Jerk! I hated being ignored!"

Pinnocio rubbed his head and said, "Hey, I thought you were inside."

"I was but I left my car keys in my car and I got out while Seraph was getting in. How could you?!"

"You drive?"

"Yes I drive! I may be invisible, but I'm also earthbound too! Now why did you lie to Seraph!"

"You're the personifcation of the angust caused by lack of feedback. Is it my fault that you're the Invisible Writer?"

He heard a small growl and shivered. "Look why don't you go in and make yourself at home. I'll tell the others about you."

"You better." A voice sounding more like Xena said, "or you will wish that you even considered messing with the likes of me."

The door flung wide open again.
*****
Maria Cline saw the door flung open. She had been posting signs about various hints to getting feedback and safety procedures. She could feel an angery polterguist had entered the building. "Oh boy." She muttered.

Maria Cline

Saturday, 27-Feb-99 02:57:58

161.142.78.71 writes:

Yasmin leaned contentedly against her chair, swirling the remains of her Coke with a straw. "Ahh... this is more like it."

"The Cafe still doesn't have a Manager," Ana pointed out. "Who're we going to trust with the Cafe?"

"At least we have a Cook," Yasmin shrugged philosophically. "Where is Jupiter, anyway?"

Rossi looked over in the direction of the kitchen. "Last I heard, she was going to make brownies. And teppanyaki."

"All right!"

Seraph took a seat, carefully folding her wings. "That still doesn't solve the Manager problem, though. Any suggestions?"

"Sunflower Seed Man?"

The Writers stared at Yasmin. Several discreetly moved away.

"JB's fictive. He's Boob Woman's arch-nemesis, and his mutant power is to spit out sunflower seeds. I figure that since we're going to drive a Manager crazy we might just as well have one that's already insane..." She trailed off, and folded her arms defensively. "Just a thought."

"Right..."

Ana rested her elbows on the polished table, cupping a cheek as she said thoughtfully, "We need someone intelligent."

"Patient," Seraph added.

"Fun," Rossi suggested.

Yasmin arched an eyebrow. "Charming enough to handle troublemakers."

"And strong enough for that same reason," Shai pointed out.

They pondered on it for a while.

Simulatenously, a bulb flashed over their heads, drawing the attention of a few moths.

"THE BEAST!"

"In a tuxedo!"

"A white tuxedo!"

"With spectacles on, of course."

"What is it with you and men with glasses?"

"Look, I just find them sexy on Hank, 'kay?"

"So what do you guys think? Do we go with Hank McCoy, or do you have any other suggestions?"
_____________________

Just as I finished this, I thought of something else. Subreality Cafe has a bartender who's a retired comic book character. My suggestion: how about we make the Manager of Writer's Cafe the avatar of a retired fanfic writer? It doesn't have to be a REAL writer, we can just make on up. ;) Hank could be the Assistant Manager, the "social face" (greeting people, chatting with them etc), while the avatar is in more of an administrative role and seldom interacts with the Writers.

It's all up to you. ;)

Yasmin M.

Saturday, 27-Feb-99 14:20:10

159.218.12.53 writes:

"Or you can have me." A voice said. The writers looked around and Seraph asked, "Who are you?"

"The Invisible Writer. I have been overhearing your need for a manager. I know writers because I am in a sense created by them. I am skillful in the martial arts and no one can see me."

Maria said, "You can't be the manager. A manager is supposed to be seen."

"I want to be a manager." The voice firmly said. "I may be invisible but I can make my presence known."

A chair slid out and the voice continued, "Look I don't like interaction with fan fics. They just consider me an alter ego. I like this place. All these writers give me strength. You can have this Beast character be co-manager. He is carming enought. I am smart. I want to be the manager."

"We'll think about it."

"Good." The voice stated, "Can I have a vanilla Coke please?"

"You drink?" Seraph asked.

"Yes I ingest liquids. I don't drink alcahol. though.

The Invisible Writer strikes again

Saturday, 27-Feb-99 21:31:17

202.9.65.47 writes:

"Excuse me," said a voice behind Seraph. "I'm here for the Manager's position."

The speaker was a tall, thin man with graying black hair. His light green eyes studied her and the Cafe with barely-concealed intensity. Dressed in a black hooded robe with tiny silver stars and crescent moons, he looked like a graduate from the Obi-Wan Kenobi Fashion School.

"My name is Peregrine," he introduced himself, and held out a hand.

"Seraph," she answered, shaking his hand firmly.

The smile transformed his saturnine, almost expressionless features, making him look years younger. "A good name."

Yasmin frowned. Something about the man niggled at her. Looking aside at Ana, she saw that her fellow Writer was troubled too. "Err... are you a Writer, by any chance?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I'm the avatar of one, but the Writer retired. I've been wandering Subreality for quite some time now."

"But..." Shai started, but the faintly menacing look he gave her prevented further questioning.

"Ahem. Your qualifications?" asked Rossi briskly, trying to dispel the uncomfortable air.

"Although I am not an accountant, I have some skills in that area. I can balance the budget, do any paperwork needed, and fulfill general administrative duties. However, I will not interfere with the running of the Cafe unless absolutely necessary. Incidentally, I can also do magic, which is convenient should trouble arise. For my... salary, I only need a furnished room to stay in, food, and privacy." Peregrine held up a hand. "There is one thing, though. I will need an assistant to help me run the social side of administration. I'm not a people person, and someone who could be a host, so to speak, would help me immensely."

Seraph looked at the other Writers, who nodded fractionally. "We'll consider it," she told the stranger.

"Thank you." He bowed to them, and left to sit at the bar.
_________________________

Invisible Writer, being the Cafe's manager means that you become a *fictive*, to be written by all and any writer who wants to write a WC story. Stories for the WC isn't just restricted to this RR, and we're not going to write it only when you're there. Hell, we don't even know who you are and what's your e-mail. Personally, I'd feel uncomfortable writing you as a Manager simply because you're a writer and not a fictive or a fictional creation, especially since I don't know you well. It's an ethics thing.

Please think about it. And read Kielle's Subreality Cafe FAQ for SubrealInfo in general.

Yasmin M.

Sunday, 28-Feb-99 11:41:38

24.66.15.48 writes:

"You got the papers?" Dave asked.
"Do I look like you?" came the reply from Dave.
"Yes, you do. Remember the plan?" The bet with Jesse was just for fun, but he intended to win it anyway.
"Oh yeah."
"Good now forget it. Here we go." He flashed that winning smile that he loved so much to use when he was being sincere. The Bouncer looked at him.
"And you two are?"
"The Goldfish Twins."
"Twins?" asked the Bouncer skeptically. This might be legit. There was something about these two that seemed they were linked. "Is one of you an avatar?"
"We both are," beamed Dave. The other Dave showed him a copy of the first fanfic written about him. "And that's avatarr. Like grr. Only arr."
"Whatever," said the Bouncer. "And him?" he gestured to the other. "This doesn't mention a twin." The second Dave produced another fanfic.
"There are FIVE of you?" asked the Bouncer.
"That's right."
"Hmm," said the Bouncer, uncertain, but there what had been shown had definately been legit. But this guy was new and maybe he wasn't like the others. "Okay," the Bouncer said eventually. "But I'm watching you."
"Excuse me," said the second Dave to the first Dave's surprise. "You might want to read this." He passed the Bouncer a copy of the newest fanfic. The first Dave looked at his twin, his smile fading as the other's grew. The Bouncer looked at the first Dave. "Well?"
"W... what do you mean?" struggled Dave trying to regain his composure.
"This says that the writer retconned all his previous works bar this one and all those that follow it. According to this there is only one of you in all reality."
The first Dave looked at his character. "You bastard," he said in a tone worthy of Edmund Blackadder himself. "After everything I've done for you."
"Killed me several times, killed my friends and family, wrecked my career as a hero, ruined the only home I had, then turned told me 'sorry, only joking'? If that's your idea of a favour, don't do me any more. This is neutral territory, where we are equals. Except some are more equal than others. May I?"
"Go right ahead, Mr Goldfish," said the Bouncer.
"Thank you, my man, there'll be a drink in this for you later. Cherrio, David."
David Wheatley watched as his creation walked in to the building. "I'll get you for this!" he shouted after him. "You think your life was hell before, just you bloody wait. I'll make five minutes in the company of Tornado and all his Power Ranger cronies seem like eternal paradise."
"You'll find the Writer's Cafe just over there," said the Bouncer, with a chuckle.
"Frazzin' razzin' Goldfish," said David as he walked away. Now he owed Jesse a favour. Davey-boy was going to pay for this one. He might even send him back to X-Wars. Nah, he wasn't that vindictive. Then he had an idea and he chuckled as he pulled the notebook from his pocket and started scribbling notes. At the top he underlined the title - the New Goldfish Adventures. Payback time, he thought as he walked in to the Writer's Cafe.

Dave Goldfish

Sunday, 28-Feb-99 18:00:04

159.218.12.14 writes:

Maria was finally finished with the safety signs she had been making. The other writers was amazed at the 'no flaming' signs, no minors here to see NC-17, and other things. She was board. She and the Invisible writer had been talking about the deterioratinon of the American sociciey. But it was hard talking to someone who can't be seen.

So she went over to the Writer's lab to make some plot devices. In the Writers cafe, Writers use the lab to conjure up stuff to use in their storyies. A potion to tranform. A special device for Rogue to use to be touchable (those are common). Even special superpowers. As she tried to think up a way to turn men into women she overheard the conversation of a need for a new manager. An idea sparked in her head.

Maria went over to the other writers and suggest "Why don't we make our own manager?"

Everyone stared at her. Maria was one of the newest writers here. But her ideas are stange and eerie. Some of her stories were very unique and the powered up vac she conjured up was so...her.

Seraph asked, "What did you say?"

Maria beamed and said,"Make our own manager. We're writers. In this place we are gods! We can do anything if we can see it in our heads! Why not make up a manager in the lab? Give him or her the perfect qualities. Make him/her smart but caring. Tough but tender. Oh, and maybe even make him handsome. What do you say?"

*****

Why not?

Maria Cline

Sunday, 28-Feb-99 18:47:25

203.23.41.98 writes:

Seraph considered the suggestions for a new Manager, waying up the pros and cons.

'While creating our own is quite tempting. I'm going to have to go with Peregrine as Manager and Beast as the social side of things. Still, there are many other positions to fill. We still need to create a janitor for one.'

Seraph called for peoples attention, "I've made a decision on the Manager," she said.

The writer's looked at her expectantly.

"While all the applicants were quite interesting, I believe Peregrine would make the best manager. He has all the qualities we need, plus a certain air that I believe will add quite a bit to our little Cafe. I've decided to add the Beast on as the more social side as well."

The other writers nodded, and went back to their own creative endevours.

Meta: Yasmin, I love the idea's you put forward. Peregrine will make a great Manager as will Beast. Sorry Invisible writer and Maria but as I said, there are still positions to be filled and parts of the Cafe to create.



Seraph

Sunday, 28-Feb-99 21:16:27

207.172.139.169 writes:

"Well since Analogue seems to be the word of the day, I think we should make Max Larkin the janitor. I mean, he's rude, he's obnoxious, he's cruel. He even looks like the other cafe's janitor," Willey said humbly. Then he noticed Dave walk in. "Oh hi Davey old chap. Don't worry, nobody's been able to get past the Bouncer tonight. Not even newbies. Now, for that favor.... hmmmm perhaps you could find out if Rufus is from Gallifrey."

Jess Willey

Monday, 01-Mar-99 03:23:56

199.103.216.54 writes:

"Rufus?" asked David, his train of thought momentarily interupted. "Who's Rufus?" Then he remembered he'd been in the middle of something with Jess. "No, he's not. He's an alternate reality shapeshifter who has infultrated the Time Lords and is going to use Joe to recreate the Earth, thereby redesigning the universe." It was a spur of the moment answer, in his old familiar style. "You can accept that answer or a hale and hearty 'couldn't tell you, I quit the list' answer. I prefer the first one. Gives scope for character development. Just don't credit me. What's the coffee like here?"

David

Monday, 01-Mar-99 06:59:29

207.172.137.119 writes:

"So you don't even know who Rufus is? HA! You're such a smeghead. You mean to say you never saw Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure? Ah god, we're going to have to break out the tar and feathers," Willey said.

Jess Willey

Monday, 01-Mar-99 09:15:22

159.218.12.54 writes:

Maria watched the two talked and scoffed. Then a tall elderly man in a tux walked in. He asked in an English Accent, "Escuse me ma'am is this the Writer's Cafe?"

Maria nodded and asked, "Are you here for the janitor's job?"

"Why yes ma'am. My name is Alfred Pennyworth. I am from the Batman fan fiction."

"Which one?"

Alfred look down in shame, "The one with Adam West in it."

"I'm so sorry. Go to Seraph, she will talk to you."

He politely nodded. And walked off.

*****

I have nothing against that show really!

Maria Cline

Monday, 01-Mar-99 11:10:48

24.66.15.48 writes:

"A butler?" said David to himself. "That gives me an idea." He turned forward a couple of pages and scribbled in his pad again. Then he looked at Jesse. "Rufus. Slightly balding chap, travels in a phone booth giving advice and generally getting Bill and Ted out of trouble. I remember the films. They were terrible. But everything Keanu made since was worse. He isn't a timlord. He wants to be - phone booth, time travel and all - but he isn't. Classic case of Gallifreyan Obsession Dementia. Mainly suffered by Daleks, Cybermen and Sontarans. And that gives me another idea." He turned backa page or tow and scribbled some more words. "This place is inspirational," he muttered as he quickly wrote a few names and letters. He glanced at Jess. "You gonna introduce me to these people or what? I thought you said you were a very important bloke round these parts?"

David

Monday, 01-Mar-99 14:06:44

207.172.137.57 writes:

"Of course I'm important. I am the king after. The lady with the wing is Seraph. There's maria, Yasmin, Ana, Shai, Teri and Rossi," Willey said pointing out the different writers. "Oh and Kielle is around here someplace."

Jess Willey

Monday, 01-Mar-99 14:41:59

198.209.223.180 writes:

Ana was fighting laughter as she turned to meet David, "So, you're saying Rufus has a God complex? Oh, and yes, I *do* know who the Cybermen, Time Lords and Daleks are."

--
meta: oh, gods.. I did it. A one paragraph post.. Still, it was just too, too silly to pass up.. *whistling the Inspector Gadget theme again*
Ana

Ana/Lyssie

Monday, 01-Mar-99 18:39:25

161.6.71.32 writes:

Shai sat at a table, oblivious to the goings on around her. She was too busy plotting revenge. She scoured her mind for ways to torture her favorite fictives.

Now, have I done the toenails thing yet? Maybe I should give Rogue a method of being less than a spoiled rotten southern belle with an attitude problem to make her appealing to that sexy cajun again so I can get back at Lament. As for Kristi, heck, she's in Algeria being hunted by the secret police, I can have lots of fun with that . . . .

Shai yanked out her spiral notebook and got to work.

Shai

Tuesday, 02-Mar-99 02:05:24

202.189.10.68 writes:

"Can I get you something, green eyes?"

Slightly startled, Peregrine looked up to see the Bartender's smiling face. He hesitated for a nanosecond but something in her posture told him she wasn't going to take "no" for an answer, and he didn't feel like arguing.

"Just a glass of ale, thank you," he said courteously, the unreadable mask back in place.

"Welcome. Here you go." She watched him drink, noting his careful, methodical movements. "You're the new Manager, right? I'm Mary Shiva, Bartender of this joint."

"Peregrine. Pleased to meet you, and yes, I'm the new Manager." He looked around at the Cafe with veiled wonder and just a slight hint of what Mary thought was apprehensiveness. "It feels strange to be among people again. Writers. I have been..."

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

She winked at him. "Perry darlin', I'm am here to listen and you look like you could use it. It's not like I'm going to go around and gab about your dirty past."

The mage looked offended. "My past is far from dirty, Lady Shiva."

"So why're you so damn secretive 'bout it, then?"

Peregrine sighed. He must be getting soft. Her persistent efforts were actually getting to him. "I've been alone for too long, milady -- ever since my real life counterpart retired. To make a lengthy and painful story short, I was abandoned to wander Subreality. If I had not come across the ad..."

Mary recognized the note of bitterness in his voice, and stifled her curiousity. "Sorry to hear that, Perry."

"It was over a long time ago." He shrugged. "And by the way, my name is Peregrine, not Perry."

She grinned roguishly at him. "Like it or not I'm calling you Perry. Bartender's prerogative."

A slight smile hovered on his lips. "Giving people unwanted nicknames?"

"It's in the charter. Don't make me club you with a beer mug."

"I will do my best to avoid it," he said solemnly.

A ruckus from the assembled Writers caught their attention. A blue-furred and tuxedo-clad man had appeared out of nowhere, landing in the middle of a table. Some Writers, typing away at their laptops, were clearly the cause.

"I see that the Assistant Manager has just arrived." He got up, dignity personified.

"Have fun!" Mary called after his receding back.
______________________

Jeez, I hope I got Mary in character. This one goes before Seraph's post. Nothing earth-shattering here, just some character development. ;)

Yasmin M.

Monday, 01-Mar-99 20:13:07

203.23.41.98 writes:

Seraph nodded at the new Janitor as he went about his business. It was time to end this. She'd had fun and she was sure the Bouncer had had a ball but she had decided that this RR would only go for a certain amount of time.

The Writer's Café was looking great; it hadn't been so well defined in ages. Mary Shiva was serving the visiting writers drinks and Pinnochio was keeping out the Fictives who had decided it might be cool to try and sneak in. It was a change from the usual order of things.

'Who would've thought it'd be us keeping them out?' Seraph thought with a smile.

Whatever happened after this was anyone's guess but Seraph knew the Writer's Café wouldn't be abandoned like it was before.

'The old girl deserves a history. We need to give it one but it'll take some time. Oh well, other writer's will come along and add to the story. It'll finally start being used like it was supposed to be,' Seraph thought.

Seraph stood up and clapped her hand; "It's closing time people. The hour runneth late and it's time you were all leaving."

Some of the Writer's looked at her with sad eyes, "But we were only just getting started. Please can't we stay?"

Seraph shook her head sadly; "Not tonight I'm afraid. This story is just about over. Don't worry though, there'll be another one soon."

Yasmin walked up behind the angel, "When?"

Seraph smiled, "In another couple of days. I have a plan!"

Yasmin chuckled, "Why is it I always get worried when I hear that phrase."

Seraph looked innocently at Yasmin, "Why, I don't know what you mean."

Yasmin laughed as the shadows came down and the story ended. A sweet voice called from the ending, as the voice has from time immemorial, completing the story, as it should be,

Gentles do not reprehend;
If you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck.
Now to 'scrap the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call:
So good night unto you all.


Meta: Right, as I said I was only going to leave this RR up for a little while. Don't worry though, I've already got my mind on a new one. Hope you all enjoyed yourselves as much as I did. I'll see you all on the flip side.

Seraph

Seraph

The End