All around there is nothing but silence and an endless gray expanse. This is the place between places where nothing is or ever has been until a voice changes all that with timeless words that will signal the beginning of creation..
"Why am I doing this again?" asked a male voice that as yet didn't have a form.
"Because I told you to that's why," responded a decidedly female voice that held a hint of child like smugness to it.
"And why am I doing what you say again?" again the male voice with just a bit of sigh of weirdness in it.
"You are doing what I say because I'm your Muse," again the female voice only this time it held more than a hint of annoyance in it. "Besides," it continued the smugness back in its voice, "if you don't do what I want I'll sing until you do what I want. In fact I'll give you a little reminder so you work faster.
"This is the song that doesn't end, Yes it goes on and on my friend, Some people started singing it not knowing what it was, And they will continue singing it forever just because, This is the song that doesn't end, Yes it goes on and on my friend..,"
"ALRIGHT, I GET IT JUST STOP SINGING THAT SONG! For the love of all that is good and holy, please stop singing that song."
"Just do what I want and I won't sing."
"Okay, you win," said a broken and defeated male voice before an inn appeared.
At the bar within the inn there were four people two of whom could pass for twins if one didn't look slightly older than the other. These two individuals sat at a table together various foods around them and a pile of Twinkies at the center of the table. The other two individuals, a man and a woman sat at the bar counter. The man looked to be in his early twenties, slightly long brown hair, in need of a shave, and about thirty pounds over weight, he sat slumped on the counter. The woman was a striking contrast in personality though spinning on her chair and laughing a light joyful laugh. What was odd about her was she seemed to be continually changing features and clothing.
"I still don't see why all of this was necessary Iana," said the man.
"I thought that it would be nice if you took me somewhere for a change D," said Iana.
Giving her a frustrated look the man only identified as D almost exploded when he replied, "Take you some where, you're my muse! You live in my head, that means that you go every where that I go. Please explain to me how it is that I don't take you anywhere."
"I meant some where nice, and this place definitely has the potential to be nice. Besides I wanted a place where the other muses could come with their mortals have a drink or to, maybe add on to the inn if they want to do anything else. Anyway stop your wining or I'll split my self in to two and sing the Barney theme song along with Lamb Chop," Iana threatened.
Slumping even further onto the counter D began to mutter something about how cruel and unusual punishment was banned by the Geneva Convention when a giant green hand materialized out of no where, grabbed him and through him against the opposite wall.
"This is why I didn't want to do this Iana. Authors should never interact with their characters, especially characters they have been trying to avoid talking to," groaned D as he slowly lifted himself into a sitting position.
At the table the younger of the brothers got up a ring on his right index finger glowing brightly as his clothes changed from a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt and blue jeans to a full black leather body suit and mask that covered his face. On his right shoulder was a green marking, the same marking that was on his ring, and on his left shoulder was an outline of a medieval knight helmet also done in green.
Enveloped in an eerie green glow the figure flew towards D, stopping a foot away the dark figure took a step forward and looked like he was about to hit D. D just smiled and said, "Hay Xander how is it going."
"You know exactly how it's going D, nowhere! You haven't written one word about me in almost five months now, you just shoved me aside for him," the last was said with a jerked thumb pointing towards the older Xander Harris. Not slowing down his tirade the Emerald Knight began to demand an explanation from his creator.
"I've told you I'll start working on you as soon as I get his story done but things just keep coming up. I don't have time to write when I'm working or in school and when I'm not the only computer with MS Word is being used. Listen I've definitely heard your complaints and that is why I allowed you to act instead of stopping you, I also just gave you a very cool costume that will appear in the story latter."
Looking down at himself for the first time Xanders eyes registered shock at what he saw. "You aren't going to make me into a dark brooding type like Angle are you, because if you are I may have to kill you."
With a role of his eyes D just responded, "No you aren't going to be dark and broody. I just gave you that costume because the usual comic book GL costumes would look out of place in the real world. The vamps would dust themselves laughing at you before you had a chance to do anything." This seemed to cool down Xander as he went back to join Xander in eating as many Twinkies as possible.
Getting up on shaky feet D stumbled back to the bar counter to join his muse, who had a look of amusement on her face. Scowling at her for not helping him out, the man almost growled when he talked to her again. "Don't you think its time to establish the rules so I can get to bed?"
Iana simply nodded, knowing that this wasn't the time to annoy her pet as she thought of him. "Okay ground rules. One, Xander must appear as a main character in the story because this is going on the Xander Zone message board, we bent that rule today but only because we where in a rush. Two, you can add permanent new characters to the inn so long as they have a job or function. A character can be out sick or what ever for two parts to make room for another character with the same parts before the original character has to be brought back. Three, an author can add what ever he or she wants onto the inn so long as the author is shown adding it on, it just cant be there at the beginning for no reason unless some one else had added it on in an earlier part. Four, an author can't bring in another authors character or version of Xander without the other authors permission. Five, no bashing other authors unless it is done by the characters of that author. Six, the tile must say RR Fic The Inn and then the part, you are welcome to add on to the title in prentices to explain what the part is about. Seven, have fun and don't take your self or your writing seriously, this is meant to be light over all."
A flash of light appeared in the corner of the room and out of it stepped a man in his 20's. He had long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, green eyes hidden behind glasses, and he was wearing mostly black and grey clothing.
"Damn... rough ride over here."
Wyrdradio walked to the bar and sat down to catch his breath. He looked at the people in the room and nodded then motioned to the southeastern corner. Another flash of light occured and a permanent arch made of metal and stone appeared. Inside the arch, there appeared to be swirling mist that shifted through all the colors of the rainbow.
"There... that should be stable."
Just then, the arch flashed blue and a figure emerged. As he cleared the arch, those in the room could see him clearly. He was dressed in a strange skin-tight black suit with a faint hint of purple across his chest. Surrounding his body was a brown hooded cloak that covered his face completely. At his waist was a sword and a small metal tube.
The man lifted his hands to his face and pulled back the hood to reveal... another Xander. He looked at those in the room, then glanced down to a bracelet on his left wrist.
"Nothing is registering... that's... that's impossible."
The new Xander looked at the bar and glared at the smiling man.
"You... where the hell am I?"
Wyrdradio smiled.
"The Inn... and with that, I must be going."
He hopped to his feet and grinned widely.
"Have fun... Lost Warrior."
Then, with a flash of light, he vanished... leaving behind the portal and a very confused Lost Warrior Xander...
From outside can be heard...
"AHHHH!" *THUD* "Oooff!"
There was also something that sounded suspiciously like a snicker, followed by, "Laugh it up. After all it wasn't *you* that left a Bobby-shaped impression on the ground - which really *hurt*, by the way - and... hey, where *am* I?"
"Of *course* it was funny, after all, it happened to *you*, not me," was the reply in an irritatingly perky voice, suggestive of a serious caffiene and sugar high.
*THWACK*
"Hey! No beating up on the muse!"
"Why not? You do it to me all the time... hey! A pub!"
"Do you think they sell expressos here?"
"*God*, I hope not. You're hard enough to deal with as it is."
"Party pooper."
"When your party games seem to comprise largely of 'Destroy Bobby's Sanity'? You bet!"
The owners of the voices entered the inn, and conversations took brief pause as the people already there turned to look at the newcomers, a la movie cliche.
"Morning, all!" the man currently standing in the doorway said with as much cheer as possible for someone who's just survived what could have been a nasty fall. He looked to be in his late twenties, with brown hair, hazel eyes currently obscured by a pair on sunglasses, slightly in need of a shave, and could probably stand to lose some weight.
Silence was his answer. Shrugging, he made his way to the bar, shoving his sunglasses up so they rested on top of his head. What appeared to be a roughly human-sized mist followed him, glowing a number of colours. Slumping on to a convenient bar stool, Bobby said, "Rum 'n' coke, thanks," to the bartender, who nodded and began preparing his drink.
"And for your... friend?"
Bobby threw a glance over his shoulder and saw the cloud of mist that had followed him. He banged his head on the bar, and muttered, "For Christ's sake, can't you just pick a form and *sitck with it*?"
"Nope," the mist replied cheerfully. "This is much more fun. I get to torment you more like this."
"Jesus. Of all the muses in the multiverse, I had to get the deranged one."
"HEY!"
"Well, consider this - how are you going to drink your coffee like that?" Bobby remarked, head still resting on the bar. "And I can't believe I just said that," he added in a quieter voice.
"Hmmm... good point." With that, the mist *twisted* and solidified to reveal a brightly-dressed woman in her early twenties. "Is this better?"
"Not a lot," Bobby muttered after he glanced her way.
"What a ringing vote of confidence," the young woman said, her sparkling personality slipping for a moment. "But, then again, what else can you expect from someone who won't even name his muse?"
"Sanity, hopefully."
Ignoring that remark, the muse asked the bartender for a double expresso, before continuing, "Maybe I should name myself after one of the Classical Greek muses."
"Knock yourself out," Bobby said, claiming his drink and taking a sip before clutching it like it was a holy relic.
"Hmmm..." the muse pondered, before brightening. "I know! How about Calliope?"
"Well, the 'music' they play send me up the wall, which is pretty much what you do to me. A good choice."
Ignoring his remark, the newly-christened Calliope claimed the stool next to Bobby and asked, "Why are we here? And what are we waiting for?"
"Dunno," Bobby replied. "And as to what we're waiting for..." he pointed to a blank piece of wall. "That."
"But there's not... oh."
Calliope's remark was interrupted when a black speck appeared on the wall in question, and expanded to the size of a regular door in an eyeblink.
"Very nice special effects," Calliope commented. "But that doesn't really answer my-"
>From the door emerged a young man, in his early twenties, with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. It was obviously Xander - or *a* Xander, at least - wearing a dark blue shirt, jeans and boots. He looked around, confused, for a second, before spotting Bobby. Obviously coming to a decision, he casually strolled over and claimed the bar stool on the other side of him.
"Hi."
"Hey, Xander. How's things?"
"Much better, now that I've managed to return to Sunnydale in my original time. Of course, I had to pretty much abandon someone I loved but, hey, who said life had to be fair?"
Bobby winced. "Yeah, sorry about that...hey! i haven't written that bit yet!"
"True, but you've hinted that I would, though."
"Yeah, I guess I have."
Xander nodded. "I liked that line from 'Aliens', too."
Bobby shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "It seemed appropriate."
"I liked it," Xander said with a grin.
"That was kind of the whole point of that line."
Calliope tugged at Bobby's sleeve. "What's going on? Why is Xander here?" She looked around the room, and noticed for the first time that there was more than one Xander present. "And why are there *three* other Xanders here?"
Bobby glanced around the room before shrugging. "I'm sure it'll be explained... such as now," he added as he caught sight of a sign above the bar. It read: "THE INN. A place for Xander-writing fanfic authors to hang out and relax. Of course, if you show up, expect the version of Xander you wrote to turn up not longer after you do."
"Okay... this is wierd," Calliope muttered.
"Deal," Bobby said. "After all, you've inflicted worse on me lately."
"*Not* funny," Calliope said indignantly. "Hang on... if every version of Xander you write shows up, aren't you a Xander short?"
As if to answer her question, another door opened up, and a Xander dressed in shorts and a T-shirt staggered through, as if he'd been pushed from the other side - which, in fact he had.
"All right," he said in an annoyed tone of voice. "What's going on? One second, I'm on a beach at the Gold Coast, and the next, I'm here."
Shadows-Xander glared at Bobby. "How come he gets a beach holiday and I don't?"
Sighing, Bobby picked up his drink and headed for a table. "Grab a drink - both of you - and I'll try to explain..."
"Told you it wouldn't hurt!" Said a nagging female voice.
"Shut up!" Came an exasperated male voice.
"She's right you know?"
"Steve, Sara..... Don't start!" Seth said, refering to the two muses.
The three walked through the door taking in the sight of the other authors. Seth blinked a few times at seeing several Xander's. He pulled up a stool by the bar, his muses sitting on either side nagging him. "Scotch, please. Coke for the muses." Seth said.
The bartender nodded and went to the cooler. Seth meanwhile turned to Bobby, " Yours isn't the only deranged one, Bobby." Seth said, motioning towards his two. One the was a vortex appeared, spitting out four Xander's. "Hey, guys!"
Two of the Xander's nodded, after shifting their faces to human. One Xander pulled out a katana, feeling a buzz. The last one started to rush Seth, the two Vampiric Immortals grabbed him and held him back. "Thanks, Guys. Alex put your sword away, this is not the place for that. Xander, I know your mad that I let Buffy stay dead, but for you to win the battle between good and evil you had to lose her. Her loss will make your team stronger."
"Alright, but I'm still not happy about it." What-If-Xander said, shrugging of Vampire?-Where?-Xander and I'm-Back?-Xander.
"Are you gonna work on any of us?" Watch-out-Hellmouth!-Xander asked, sheathing the sword.
"Of course! Those two took a break on me." Seth said, pointing at his muses.
The seven people turned to the door when it opened to reveal.....
Okay, I can't write to save me, can't find time to even post stuff I've already written, but I just couldn't resist this... Plus it contains an overdue apology of sorts.
Rules in Part 1. (And does it count as using other author's characters when I refer to them all as "Xander" and never specify?)
"Ooof," exclaimed the woman who was clearly pushed through the door, regaining her balance as it slammed behind her. "Maybe I *don't* want you to come back, after all," she threw back at the uncaring portal.
The petite redhead with the wild curls straightened her clothing and then smiled politely at the startled men inside the bar. "Hi. Oh, look - there's Xander. And Xander. And Xander, Xander, Vamp Xander."
"You're drooling," the slight auburn-haired woman who had quietly followed her in pointed out. "It's somewhat unappealing." The speaker, with her vaguely English accent and skin-tight leather catsuit, was, however, anything *but* unappealing, as the expression on the faces of almost every man, and all the Xanders, bore witness.
"You're just ticky because several people have asked for a sequel to your stories, and I haven't been able to get my muse to come back so it can be written. She showed up long enough to shove me in here and then took off for wherever the hell she's been for about the last year."
Unity pouted. "You haven't so much as finished posting my first story on this list, and it's been done for ages. And I swear, Lori, if you start that drivel about your kids and your work and all the things you're doing, I'll go Dark on you, and ."
Lori held up a finger. "I could Separate you! That would at least shut you up. Besides, everyone on this list that's going to read your stories already has, I'm sure. Although I do need to finish posting so it can go complete into the archive." The powerful being drew out her most awesome weapon - the puppy eyes of her Heart. But the author, used to it after so long, shrugged, turned on her heel and joined the gang at the bar. "Cabernet, please."
She glanced over her shoulder, and saw several of the Xanders chatting up Unity. "Hey, guys," the author called, "You might want to leave her be. She's - well, complex."
"I know complex women. I'm used to them," one answered her.
Lori picked up her glass and sauntered over. "This one's way beyond what you've dealt with so far. She's got Buffy's Body - as you seem to have noticed." The glare was a practiced Mom Glare, and backed the guys up a bit. "But she also has Willow's Spirit, and Giles' Mind. But the biggest thing is that she's part you - she has your Heart." The writer watched them all move a little further back. "And since I don't write group sex or slash, I really don't think this is the girl for any of you."
Noticing a couple of the Xanders still thinking about it, the writer went a bit further. "And get her angry, she turns into your evil twin." Seeing that had scattered Unity's admirers, she smiled sweetly and went back to the bar. "Hi. Who's in charge of introductions? I'm Lori."
"What!? NOW you're chosing to resurface?" I demand angrily, turning to see my 'muse' standing next to me, smirking.
"Why not? This is as good a time as any," she replied easily, still smirking as she grabbed me and roughyl hauled me down in one of the seat at the bar. "He'll have a whiskey," she told the bartender.
"Casseiopeia, you KNOW I don't handle liquor!" I shout angrily, drawing startled stares from the assorted clientele, which I
have to admit I haven't really looked at yet. "And I do SO not want to do this right now!"
"After that Hell Week at work, you need a break," Casseiopeia said, sitting down next to me as 'my' drink arrives. I ogle it as if it were human blood. "You haven't listened to me in weeks... ever since you finished For the Better you haven't
listened to me. And let me remind you that you promised to work on Atlantean Legacy next."
I snort, still not touching the drink. Even if the alcohol didn't knock me out, it would turn me into one drunk writer. And
drunk writers aren't pretty to behold. "Ever since finishing that monstrocity, I just don't feel like writing anymore. Seems like such a waste of effort."
"HEY NOW! For the Better is my best work, even if I do say so myself!" Casseipoeia protests.
I snort again. "Yeah, right. Admitted, I got some good replies to it. But you remember just as well as I do jut how much
feedback I USED to get! Besides, I don't need no advice from a bedsheet-clad figment of my imagination."
Casseipoeia bristled. "It's a TOGA!"
"I don't care."
"It's ROMAN!" She protests angrily.
"It's a BEDSHEET!!" I shout back. "Held together over your shoulder by a broche my GRANDMOTHER wouldn't wear! It's THAT old!"
"But..."
I refuse to spare her a second glance. I hate to do this to my muse... I really like her, I do... but this time, she went too far. I turn to the bar. "I need something stiff..." I whispered, sounding exhausted. "Whisky glass, fill it with grenadine."
The bartender raises an eyebrow, and fills the glss with a green- blue sludge. I nod apprciatively, and drain the glass in a single motion.
"Perhaps some people you know can cheer you up," Casseiopeia whispers next to me, her voice strangely neutral, as if afraid
I'll lash out again. I feel even worse now... but she should have known better than to push me when exhausted. I always snap when I'm exhausted...
"You know how I get when I'm tired... you of all people should know," I whisper, staring at the glass where my finger was mechanically cleaning the sticky syrup off the edges.
"Yeah, but..."
"Last time, Fred nearly disintegrated SG-1. And remember Joshua? You just kept throwing oil on the fire while we were having our discussions about GEX... it nearly destroyed a friendship before it started," I blurt out, nto really caring who I hurt.
I let out a deep breath.
Casseiopeia nods next to me. "Perhaps I should bring a couple of characters here. Maybe they can help conince you that you need to get back to writing."
I snort, and point to the door. "Can't bring the Elementals here," I tell her. "Only Xanders."
She smirks, and I can't help but shudder. A smirking muse is not a good thing. Last time she smirked I neded up in this weird bar, drinking grenadine. "Perhaps you know these gentlemen?" she asked, making an arm-motion I refuse to follow.
That changes when a hand on my shoulder swivels my chair around to MAKE me face them. Three Xanders. One is dressed in a dark
green uniform with a Phoenix patch on his left shoulder, and a howling dog patch over his chest. "XANDER' is embroidered in gold under the dog patch.
The second one is dressed in a blakc t-shirt, black jeans, and seems fairly normal... IF I hadn't detected a bulge at the
back of his pants.
The third one was dressed in exotic full-body armor, and seem like mister cool impersonated.
"I know 'em," I answer, trying to keep my cool.
"Care to introduce us?" Casseiopeia asks, smiling at the three Xanders. I blink.
"You know 'em better than I do," I answer calmly, turning to the bar and asking for a second drink.
"I want you to introduce me to them!" she barks angrily.
Angry Muse. Worse than Smirking Muse. I sigh, and sweep my arm. "Guys, this is Casseiopeia, my Muse. Casseiopeia, meet Wild
Mage Xander, Soul Warrior Xander, and Jokilar Gerius Xander," I finish, motioning first for the man in dark green, than the one in black, and coming to rest on the armored version.
The three Xanders look at each other, smirk indetically, then howl "Hellooooooooo MUSE!"
I groan, and drain half my glass. "What? It's sweet!" Casseiopeia laughs.
"I KNEW it was a mistake to let them watch Animaniacs," I groan.
"Why? It's a cool show, Old Man," Wild Mage Xander grunts, sitting down, and asking for a double Whiskey.
"Watch who you're calling old. YOU are the one four hundred years old," I reply somewhat testily. "And do'nt get drunk, or Em will have you sleeping on the couch again."
Wild Mage Xander grins, and slams down his drink. "Esmeralda has been teaching me... but you'd never know that, since you never wrote a part six to Student in Sunnydale, did you?"
I grunt something, and drain my glass, refilling it with the bottle the bartender left for me. I nod my appreciation to him.
He shrugs.
"Esmeralda? Jokilar Gerius Xander asks, turning to me. You MARRIED him to Vires Invictus? Are you NUTS!?"
I shrug. "I made him a Wild Mage. They make a cute couple."
"What's your deal, anyway?" Soul Warrior Xander asks the Gerius version of himself.
"I'm Jokilar Gerius. I work in a team, directly to God Himself. Lots of travel, lousy hours," the other one replied. "And you? I've never hear of a SOul Warrior."
"I'm something called a Jedi... able to transfer my soul into a Light Saber and use it as a weapon. Only, I never received formal training, so I need someone else to actually use the weapon," the first one answers. "I'm from For the Better," he says, extending his hand.
"Phalanx Series," the Gerius answers, taking the hand.
"Student in Sunnydale," the third version of Xander said, clapsing his hand on top of those of his two 'brothers'.
"They're getting along well," Casseiopeia says with a smile as I empty my glass. I groan, and look at the bartender.
"Gertrude's Booze Challenge, the Widow Maker," I grunt to him. I get my drink, just as Wild Mage Xander hears my words.
"No! That can knock out..." I hear his protest in the distance as I finish my drink, and feel the darkness of overwhelming drunkenness overcome me. I'll wake up in my bed in a couple hours...
I hope.
Dreams are strange things! They can be totally pleasant, like reminding you of the lost days of summer, ice cream on a scorching august day, long held fantasies or even memories of relatives that have passed on, Not this one.
Oh it started out normally enough. I was dreaming of being tortured in a place most people call a gym, but I call it the dungeon. The thought of a stair climber is enough to send an out of shape 43 year old writer straight to straight jacket heaven, but toss in living LAN's and CDM's chasing you around the gym forcing you to exercise. For those of you that were wondering, LAN's and CDM's are file extensions for Novell, my newest nightmare in school. Well anything would be better, save one thing… An author meeting his own characters.
Think about it: Think of all the nasty things that you've done to your characters just to satisfy the plot bunnies running around your head. Normally I try and play nice with my characters but even they have to admit that if they never faced adversity then they'd just be boring, right?
Well I found out for certain.
I found myself standing outside a bar. I knew it was a bar because only a bar would announce itself in bright red neon lights. Damn it was gaudy; it reminded me of Las Vegas. The even stranger thing was that it was the only place around for miles.
I stood there staring at the light wondering what the fuck I had done to deserve this.
"Nothing." The voice came from behind me and there was absolutely no doubt in my military mind who it was. "I thought it was time that you meet some people."
Now please bear with me for a second, while I describe my muse. When I first met her she was a skinny blonde with a high squeaky voice. Think of Gwyenth Platrow and you'd be very close. That was before I had finished Wheels of Fortune and Sword of Life. Then the bitch that I call my muse went on vacation. She came back with an overall tan. No doubt the result of sunning herself on the beaches in Mexico drinking Margaritas. She had also come back with a rack that would impress even the most ardent breast man. I guess she found the time to get a boob job while she left me high and dry.
I turned around and faced her. "I don't have time for this. I already have two essays due and Early Edition; Slayer Style is just begging for more on part three."
"Too bad."
"Well that's just fucking typical of you. Look I had all summer to write and you go and leave me hanging. I had to dump Wedding Day because you didn't feel like showing up for work." I'm sure most authors wouldn't be at all surprise with her attitude. Almost from the start she did pretty much as she pleased. When she wanted to work, well I couldn't eat or sleep, all I could do was type and let her tell the story. Demanding bitch isn't she?
"Those are the rules of the game. You can play or not." She laughed, it sounded like slow mountain stream gurgling over small rocks and gently landing in a pool and the bottom. Then she turned towards the door.
Did I fail to mention that my muse never wears clothes and the fact that she has a nice ass?
The bar was dark inside. There was an unidentifiable ambient light source and there were pools of light at each table. It reminded me of one of the numerous strip clubs that I'd visited in my younger days.
Muse, sorry folks but she never told me her name; and every time I ask she just smiles! Led me to a corner table. The bitch even had the gall to pull my chair out for me. "Wait here, he'll be along in a minute.
He was one of my favorite characters, Andy from the Journeyverse series.
His wheelchair rolled up on the table silently. I guess if you are the premier gunsmith in your own world you'd have the skill to modify a wheelchair so that it doesn't squeak. Andy stopped and lifted a large case and planted it on the table. Whatever was in there was heavy. It rocked the table, threatening to upset the coffee cup that had appeared at my elbow. "Hey Kid, " He said in the gruff voice that I'd always imagined he would have.
What does Andy look like you ask? Remember Lt. Dan from Forrest Gump? That's Andy almost to a tee. Save that Andy's arms and chest are much more heavily muscled and there is a grim look about him.
"Hey Andy." I sat there with my mouth open, gaping. What the hell do I say? "Happy birthday."
"Yea right," he grumbled. "Thought you were being cute when you gave us the same birthday didn't you?"
"Well it was convenient and I thought it would give me a, I don't know, a connection to you that would let me put myself in your place."
Andy leaned toward me a look of pure rage on his face. "You come sit in this chair for thirty years and then tell me about putting yourself in my place." The rage subsided, "look kid that's why Muse brought me here to find out… Why the chair?"
How do you explain to your character why you did something? Do I tell him about Tenhawk and I discussing how having a crippled immortal would bring a change to the whole Highlander bit or do I simplify and say it was just a more interesting way to tell a story?"
"Look Andy, you know you are a fictional character right?"
Yes" he answered, "at least here in the bar I recognize that fact but there something you don't realize." He paused, as if searching for the right words. "When I'm not here I don't know that. I feel the love for Lynn that you've shown in your stories. I feel the brotherhood with Terry that started in Nam that day. But what's even worse," Andy's voice choked up. "I still feel my legs even though I know they aren't there."
Tears filled my eyes. How could I have done that to him? Empathy is not my strong suit but those simple sentences made me question all of the choices I have made in my stories. Yes it did fulfill the purpose of the character but at what cost?
I wiped the tears from my face with my sleeve and sat up straight. "Andy, I'll make you a promise. Somewhere along the line in the Journeyverse I will restore your legs."
A smile brighter that a lighthouse broke out on his face, "That's all I need to know. Everything else you've written about me I have liked." He leaned on the heavy case that was still on the table. "By the way kid, Recon was a nice touch. He is a funny dog but I like him a lot."
"Thanks. I had a dog like that when I was a kid and I thought you needed a friend." Curiosity got the better of me. " Andy what's in the case?
"Just a little taste of my work." He unsnapped the latches on each side of the case. "Well since you won't be finishing Wedding Day I thought this would look cool hanging over the bar here at the inn."
Huh! I was totally confused until he pulled the Barrett M-82a1 .50 caliber sniper rifle out of the case. He winked at me. "Besides, you never know when a character might need to be a little more forceful with his creator.
After the initial tension between Andy and I was cleared up we had a great time. Which if you think about it isn't all that surprising considering that we share many of the same interests. Andy even admitted that stealing the Ingram design for Xander's Five-Nines was one of the last things he would have done, so I guess it all worked out in the end.
The crowd in the bar was getting to be a bit much. Too many over- powered Xander's for one place to hold. "Hey Andy Can I borrow the Barrett for a second?"
The immortal just smiled and said, "Won't do you any good, but if it makes you feel better than be my guest."
I lifted the nearly forty pound rifle and slapped a magazine in the receiver. Note to other authors: when designing a weapon make sure that it doesn't weigh more that the average television, that son of a bitch was heavy.
I pulled the bolt back and felt the .50 caliber enter the chamber. Balancing the bipod on the table I took aim at all the arguing Xanders. I touched the trigger…. BOOM. The explosion of the round was multiplied by the closeness of the room. The bullet went through all of the Xanders in line one right after another, With absolutely no effect. The bullet buried itself in the far wall and even that shimmered out of existence with in a few seconds.
"See I told you it wouldn't do any good. It's not the weapon it's who is using it. Only the original author can be hurt by the characters and vice verse."
"Oh well, I tried."
It was as I was putting the Barrett back in the case when my eyes caught a glimpse of a woman ordering a glass of wine at the bar. "I'll be right back. I owe someone a thank you."
As I approached the bar the woman was showing pictures of her kids to anyone that would look. You just gotta love a parent's pride in their children. "Umm Lori," I asked.
The woman turned around. "Do I know you, she asked.
"Not really! I'm Kyle from the Journeyverse and I just wanted to thank you for your very nice comments about Wedding Day. After reading your stories your opinion really meant something to me, and those words made my day.
I could see that my praise embarrassed her so I said goodbye and went back to my table.
When I got back to the table Andy had ordered a beer and was chatting with my muse. I over heard a little but even with that little bit I wished I had heard the whole thing. He was giving her holy hell for leaving on vacation when he was looking forward to walking his 'niece down the isle.
"… and another thing leave the kid alone when he is studying." Andy's voice trailed off as I sat down.
"Don't you two look all friendly and cozy." Muse went oddly quiet, now that was a first, I'd never been able to intimidate her in the least and now one of my characters had her shaking, well I'd say in her boots, but she wasn't wearing any.
Muse glared at Andy. "You really should teach your characters some manners," she huffed angrily.
"I don't know about that, I kind of like him the way he is." Muse stalked off to wherever muses go when they are pissed at their writers. "What the hell did you say to her?"
"Oh this and that." Andy looked around the room, You know with all of these Xanders we are going to have to make name tags to tell anyone apart."
"I don't know about that. The costumes are a pretty big clue." Sitting there, watching Andy I noticed that his attention had switched from the group of super Xanders by the bar towards the door.
"So that's what she looks like,' he murmured. I followed his gaze and was stunned. I guess that once I understood what this place was I should have expected her, there is no missing Elanthielle of Atlantis.
Elan is both easy and nearly impossible to describe. In ten stories she spend most of her time as a metal battle staff, the rare time that we get a look at her is the dreaming, then she shows her natural form. Sea green hair, which made her look taller than her six feet, spread around her head like a halo. But it's the tattoos that first draw the eyes.
Her beauty drew the admiration of a lot of the Xanders and more than a few headed her way only to stop when her chain mail bikini was transformed into a full suit of armor. But even more than that, she looked ready to kick anyone's ass.
"C'mon on Andy I want you to introduce me to Xander." I shoved my chair back and headed toward the corner both that Elan and Xander had staked out.
Andy laid his hand on my arm, "Leave them be for now. Its not an easy thing to meet your creator."
"Didn't seem to phase you much."
"Yea well, I'm a hard case. Besides I just got a call and Dragan and Jesse are coming. Besides I think you may want to go over there and meet the lady that just showed up." Andy had seen something I hadn't, Honor Harrington had just been called.
"Damn."
"Well get up and go say Hi." "
"If Bobby wanted for us to meet them he would bring them over. He may not know me but I m sure that he knows you. Besides that I have a few more characters that I want to meet. Damn I like that rule, draw a weapon, bring in more characters."
I sauntered over to the weapons bar. "Hey Jab, how's it going?"
The guy behind the bar answered with a huge grin on his. "This is the most fun I've had in a long time, whatcha need?"
"Hmm decisions… decisions… Give me a brace of Konzaki modified Five- Sevens with the suppressors and an Atchission shotgun.
"Hmm don't get much call for specialized weapons, but I think I can help you out." Jab disappeared behind the counted and returned in just a few minutes. He tossed the weapons on the counter. "You know the price right?"
"Bet your ass I do. Have to wait and see who shows up.
I tossed the guns on the table and Andy stared at them with distaste. "You I'm getting tired of everyone showing up with my guns and I have no memory of building them.
"Sorry Bud… that was from the Journeyverse 1.0. Trust me we just need them to get
"UNCLE ANDY!!!"
"More characters to show up," I finished.
The young teenager rushed through the crowd of Xanders like it was an everyday occurrence, not even pausing to excuse herself for being rude. She slammed on the brakes but her tennies slid across the waxed wooded floors of the Inn.
Andy reached out with a powerful arm and caught his niece. A look of pure joy covered the immortal's face. "How ya doing munchkin?"
Like an overeager puppy Lynn Powell grabbed Andy by the neck and gave him a big ole bear hug. She was so happy to see him started giggling in his ear.
"That good huh? Andy added with a humorous lilt in his voice.
"That's enough Lynn, let Andy breath for a second." The voice of Lynn's father Terry broke the moment. Terry slapped his best friend on the back in a gesture that meant more to the pair then anyone else except their creator would understand. "Hey Dude," He added in a tone of voice that left no doubt he was glad to see Andy. "What's the deal? We were doing inventory at the shop and the next second we were here."
Andy poked a finger in my direction; "Blame Him. He's the writer of our stories."
Andy's words set Lynn off like a ton of dynamite. "You bastard." she screamed at me." Then the little brat started to slap me. Then the slaps turned to punches. Granted she didn't weigh more than 95 pounds but still it wasn't pleasant.
I turned to her father, "Are you going to do something about her or not?"
Terry's face was tightened up with the effort to control the laughter that was just dying to break out any second, "I'm on her side. What you did in Sugar and Spice wasn't very nice." That's when he lost it and a peal of laughter, driven by Terry and joined in by Andy, roared through the bar. When the pair got it back under control he added, "It was funny as hell, but it wasn't very nice.
Ok so I'm on my own with one pissed off teenager. I grabbed her hands. "Stop it."
"Why should I." The words came out thought gritted teeth and she still struggled to escape my grasp so she could continue her assault.
"Because if you don't."
I noticed that both Terry and Andy were watching intently. I pulled Lynn down so I could whisper in her ear. "Because if you don't…"
Lynn's struggles stopped as I explained the consequences of her actions. Then her face changed to the most intense crimson shade as what I said truly sank in. I let her hands go, "Go over to the bar and get yourself a Coke."
I don't know which was better, Lynn meekly walking over to the bar or watching Andy and Terry's jaws hit the table in shock that she actually did what she was told too.
"I don't fucking believe it," said Terry in an astonished voice, "She never does anything without at least a week of arguing. What the hell did you say to her?"
I made sure that there was no chance of Lynn overhearing. "You're just her father, I'm her creator." I leaned back in my chair and enjoyed my second of victory. I glanced around quickly and added, "I told her that if she didn't stop right then that I would make sure she remained a virgin till she was 60."
The laughter roared from the pair again.
Lynn returned a few seconds later with two glasses. She pushed the pistols that I had gotten from Jab earlier and made a space for her drinks. It was only then that I figure out that I was missing a character. I drew three guns from the weapons shop I should have three characters.
The portal opened and a flash of red came shooting out of it at a very high speed. It crashed into the Karaoke stage that was still under construction. Another Xander had arrived. This one dressed in a bright red suit, The Greatest American Xander had arrived.
I hung my head in shame, "Oh Christ," I muttered.
"I changed my mind, I'm not going in there," the panicked deep voice said just outside the entrance to the Inn.
"You're going," another male voice told the first.
"Or we'll just have to drag you in. Or blackmail you in. Ooo! Can we blackmail him in?" a third, drawling male voice said.
Finally the owner of the first voice entered the Inn, dragged rather reluctantly, and then dragged further across the Lobby to the cocktail bar just to the right of the entrance. Five steps in he stops and stares, it almost looks like he was going to start drooling, but he kept swallowing the extra saliva down so he only embarrassed himself with his stares of disbelief and appearance.
He was about 5'8" with soft brown hair and blue eyes hidden beneath thin wire glasses and white freckled skin. Lightly freckled in favor of a slowly growing tan.
The two men on either side of him, having stopped dragging him by this point, had featureless faces, one had black hair, the other had light brown, and seemed to be larger than the black haired one and everything about him screamed "Id". The other was thin, though not strong looking, and almost geeky except for the unusual confident air about him.
After gazing about the room, full of what he seemed to already know were fictional recreations of Xanders from some of his favorite fanfics, the central guy turned to look at the bar itself.
There he sees five figures, two of which he immediately recognizes, and with a sinking feeling in his gut. The fourth, the one drinking back a large earthen jugged drink, had only a slightly familiar look to him, but that was because he'd only "seen" him for about five pages before he got seriously buffed up.
Excited, despite the unusualness of the place, he raced forward and shout "E!" just after the person at the bar begins to chug. He didn't seem to hear the first guy, then he falls off the stool. E's friend, who had been told to meet him hear after an ICQ message, stopped short, and with three Xanders around me and an average looking chick in a bed sheet...
"IT'S A TOGA!" three voices shouted after reading his thoughts, as muses could do.
...they stared down at the crumpled body. He looked back up at the characters. "So? Now what?"
"Now I think you had better introduce yourself before people start to think you're crazy," the black-haired man told him. The first shrugged and grinned sheepishly as he helped the lady in the be…toga, help his friend back into the stool to sleep it off on the bar.
"Sorry," he apologized to the muse of his friend. "I'm Joshua. You must have been the one that forced him to send me that Instant message telling me to meet him here. This is Jake," he pointed at the black haired muse, "And Ernie. The pervert half of my imagination," he pointed at the Id guy.
"Hey," the Xander's said. Joshua waved back, a bit intimidated, and not because he knew, almost, what each of them could do to him if he pissed them off.
Cassiopeia just smiled and nodded, acknowledging the other author.
"Okay then. Now what?" he turned to his muses.
"Oh no, we are not doing this again," Ernie groaned. "You take care of yourself. We're just here to associate with other muses."
"But I…"
"But nothing," Jake interrupted. "Look, why don't you play good host and introduce your characters around?"
"All of my… but only Xanders are allowed in her for right now!" Joshua protested.
His muses walked off to chat up the once formless girl at the other end of the bar. Joshua turned back to the Xanders Enterprise had brought in. "Uhm…hi?"
"Chill out. I'm not gonna blow you up with my Bane of Darkness," Phalanx-Xander clapped the mortal author on the shoulder.
"Yeah, not yet anyway," Joshua replied as the door to the side of the bar opened again and five more people walked in.
"Don't worry," FtB-Xander assuaged, he pointed just over the back of the bar. "The ground rules say the only characters that can harm author's are that author's characters."
"Yeah, and Ernie might just be vindictive enough to do that to me," Joshua said back.
G.O.D.S. Xander was first, followed shortly by the White Knight with his light-helmet off, and then a broody looking Xander in black and red behind them. Immediately on his heals was a rather strong looking Xander with a confused look on his face…and Buffy, with the same confusion on her face.
"Whoa! Time out!" one of the other Xanders who was involved with Buffy in his fanfic, "No Buffy's allowed."
Joshua ignored him and raced towards the last couple. "What are you two doing here? I haven't posted your story yet! Hell, I haven't even finished it yet!"
"Beats me," 'Xander' replied. Though it was Buffy that had spoken. "We were in some waiting room and then told to walk through this door. Along with those three. What is this place anyway?"
"Uh…let me explain," Joshua began to address the room, and then just told the Xanders around him instead. "This is from a story I haven't finished yet where Buffy and Xander switch bodies. I haven't exactly come up with how to reverse that yet by the way!" He shouted the last, where Jake and Ernie threw their glasses at him.
G.O.D.S. Xander erected a psychokinetic barrier to deflect the projectiles. "Thanks," Joshua said.
God-Xander shrugged. "No prob. Why don't we get a table since we seem to be attracting too much attention just standing here though," he suggested. Joshua quickly agreed, and leaving E at the bar, they all walked over to a round table that apparently had enough seats for everyone. Jake and Ernie joined them after a minute.
"So…"
"If you say that one more time I'm going to hurt you," Ernie snapped.
Joshua got ticked and an aluminum baseball bat appeared in his left hand before he swung it at his muse's face. The muse was knocked back and nobody helped him back up.
"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Joshua commented.
"How'd you do that?" the White Knight asked.
Joshua shrugged. "This is a fic. I'm an author. I'm more powerful than him," he jerked his thumb at G.O.D.S. Xander, "and him," he gestured at Phalanx-Xander, "fused together. Every author is. Duh."
"Oh don't start that again!" Phalanx Xander moaned. Ernie got back into his seat.
"They fought for months and months about power, and the muses weren't any help in that matter," SiS-Xander griped along with him.
"Sorry, but he asked," Joshua defended himself.
Suddenly there was a loud explosion and the character door opened fully before another Xander came flying out of it and collided with the far wall in an explosion of splinters and dust. He got to his feet quickly and dusted off his all-black outfit. "Uh, we'll talk when you get back Cordy! Bye! Have a nice trip!" he called. The door closed with a slam. "Sheesh!"
This Xander was wearing a vinyl-looking jacket and a training outfit and black army boots, a katana casually strapped to his back. "Hey! Joshua! And Jerry-me!"
"It's Gerius, you weakling!" Phalanx Xander snapped back as Champions- Xander took a seat between the Gerius and the Bang Baby.
"Oh knock it off, you two like each other, don't even deny it. And you're both married to Cordelia," Ernie griped.
Joshua squinted his eyes and then looked up at the ceiling and shouted, "HEY! ANY CHANCE WE COULD GET A WEAPONS RACK AROUND HERE?"
Instantly, a portion of the wall opposite the entrance to the bar, began flipping around until a counter and wall with every weapon imaginable existed. Every male eye, and two sets of female eyes locked on the new addition to the Inn and drooled. Even Joshua.
He looked back up at the ceiling and shouted, "I LOVE THIS PLACE! I am never leaving here!" Then he raced up to the counter and began going through the displayed objects. He finally chose a noisy cricked with built-in MEGA silencer. He pointed it at Ernie's head and fired without any warning. The muse ducked and his chair was atomized instead. Ernie stayed under the table except for whenever somebody needed a pervert to insult a lady and get beat up for it. (RR AN: Consider that permission)
"Hey!" Joshua suddenly felt inspired. He looked over his shoulder at Iana, the muse that sung the annoying song and inspired this place into being. "Thanks!" he said before jumping up and behind the counter. "Can I run this thing? The Weapons Rack! Cool. Anytime you need anything to blow somebody up, just come up and ask me for whatever weapon you can imagine. Oh. I need a sign."
Joshua was suddenly in a uniform matching the bartenders as he relinquished his character form over to the story Inn itself. A sign appeared on the counter, just underneath the register Joshua stood at. "WEAPONS RACK: Proprietor: jab21kill Any weapon you can imagine available. What you use with it, I don't care so long as it doesn't break the Inn's rules. Kill the proprietor, and you become the proprietor. If you can imagine it, if you want it, (or need it in case of demon invasion), we've got it. Price of weapons: Bring the secondary lead character from one of the fics already present. IE: Kes or Ron for G.O.D.S. Xander or Cordelia for Champions Xander."
"Hey, before you get too settled, don't you think we should talk about you're other writing?" White Knight Xander asked jab21kill. He shrugged. "I'll get around to it. I promise. I just have to finish his fic first," he pointed at Dark Times Xander, the one in black and red.
"As soon as I finish Dark Times, I'll add like…another paragraph. I promise."
"A paragraph! A PARAGRAPH?!"
"Blame them. I've lost my inspiration for your fic," jab21kill pointed at his two muses. The two guys froze.
The White Knight considered using his powers to severely motivate the muses, but then thought of a better idea and turned back around and asked for a Mark X Plasma Quantum Phaser rifle from the 31st Century. Jab21kill brought out the requested weapon, but held onto it, giving the White Knight a meaningful look.
Xander sighed and then looked at the door, which suddenly burst open as a teenage African American wearing a white mask and a blue duster floated in on a trashcan lid emitting purple electricity. Static stopped suddenly and blurted out, "What the…?! Where am I? How'd I get here?"
"Sorry Virge," Xander apologized as he picked up the Phaser rifle, "but I needed a weapon."
"Weapon? Why not just use your powers?" Virgil Hawkins aka Static asked.
In reply, the White Knight just took aim and shot a massive explosion in Ernie's direction. Nobody else was hurt or damaged in any way. "Because it's more fun this way. Hang around. You might have fun!"
"Well I don't know…" Virgil trailed off when Yunni, or Unity crossed his field of vision. He ended in drool and landed with a thud on his feet, the trashcan lid forgotten. "Well on the other hand," he started following Unity around like a little puppy dog.
Friday night, and the place was already so packed that the entire Inn was just the bar, the Lobby, the outside Entrance with the neon signs, the Weapons Rack, and the seating areas, which was only the size of a typical real world bar.
Jab21kill saw the problem, from his side seat before everyone else did. Taking a foghorn from under the counter, he shouted into it after the second explosion noises (which incidentally signalled the arrival of two goddesses, one an Author the other 'Her').
"EVERY XANDER THAT IS, HAS BEEN, OR WILL BE A CARPENTER! WE NEED RENOVATIONS! SECOND FLOOR AND A STAGE FOR KARAOKE THAT THE FIRST GUY TO BRING LORNE OR AN ANGEL (the vampire) IN WILL GET EITHER TO SIT NEXT TO MUSE AND ANDY, OR KILL ANGEL IN THE MOST PAINFUL AND FUN WAY POSSIBLE!" He put the foghorn down.
"Who the hell says you get to decide that?!" the Xander that had spoken earlier about no Buffys being allowed shouted at him. jab21kill shrugged, "I called it first. And we do need more room. Maximum capacity at the moment is about 150. We're already half that. With a second level, balcony, and stage, we can seat over 500."
Several people, mostly characters and a few muses, nodded in agreement with that logic. And if they didn't agree, they didn't speak out in time.
"YEAH! Let's have some Karaoke!" Ernie shouted from his seat at the table where jab21kill's characters still sat. All the characters, however, the moment the muse spoke, got up and started to mingle with the other Xanders, Authors, and muses.
"Free guns for everybody!" jab21kill announced and started chucking highly accurate and powerful pump shotguns. Many non-empowered Xanders took the guns, and several human-like muses also took up weapons and started to aim at Ernie.
'Gulp!' Ernie started to run before the table was completely shredded by shotgun pellets. A couple of Xanders that hadn't been fully or properly introduced yet, chased after the perverted muse, shooting the entire way.
"Hide me!" Jake begged White Knight Xander. The Bang Baby rolled his eyes and adjusted the light so that Jake was invisible from now on. Before the muse left though, White Knight grabbed him hard and whispered harshly, "You had better get him started. Soon."
"He still has to finish *his* story!" Jake pointed at Dark Times Xander.
"Dude, I'd start running now," Champions-Xander commented at the supposedly invisible muse.
"I promise, I'll get him on something tonight. I swear." Jake quickly left the new table.
"Well I'm bored," G.O.D.S. Xander announced after the muse left.
"So go do something," Dark Times Xander told him sullenly.
"Dude, do you like ever smile?" the young god asked back. For a reply, he got a cold stare from the hell spawn. "Right. Never mind." The Enhanced disappeared.
"We might as well mingle ourselves," Xander in Buffy's body offered.
"But wouldn't that kinda mean like we'd start showing up in different parts? Other authors would be writing with us and stuff like that," the White Knight observed.
"Wouldn't have to be anything big. Just sit by them and hang out. If the author's read the story we're from, save ours," Buffy in Xander's body answered, "then it shouldn't be a stretch by just giving basic history, or describing who and what we are. You know, introductions."
"Well...I guess that's all right. What do you think?" White Knight asked Champions.
"Doesn't bother me. I'm just hanging out here till Cordy gets back." Champions told his "brothers".
"Where's Cordy?" Phalanx Xander asked, sitting down, after finally having found a spot to place E in until he woke up.
"Ah, she's in some other guy's fic. Part of the Slayer's Knight by Doc, she's going with Thailog and Chobe on their quest. Although, shush. Spoilers for
"Right. I think I remember Soul Warrier mention something about it at the bar earlier," Phalanx Xander nodded.
"Yeah, real confusing how this guy is writing like seven fics all at once, and two of them with two other authors. Hey. Where's that G.O.D.S. guy?"
"Uh oh," White Knight found him quickly. Over at Tenhawk's table.
"Shoulda seen that coming. You don't think he'll..." Champions stopped talking as he saw Ernie sneak back from around behind the Weapon's Rack. "Aw hell."
"You said it" five other Xanders said at the same time, and one Buffy with Xander's soul. They got up and started to mingle.
The confusion had been settled, at least about who was who and who was what, at Tenhawks table. Then G.O.D.S. Xander teleported into the empty seat beside Trace.
"Who the...?" she started to ask.
"I'm his," he pointed over his shoulder at the Weapons Rack. "Hey? Yah mind if I hang for a bit? Got nothing better to do until he get's mister broody black and red hellspawn taken care of."
"Who?" two Xanders at the center, one next to Elanthielle asked.
"My author. The guy at the weapons shop over there. Oh, you meant hellspawn. Uhh..." the young god looked around the place, and then pointed over to a table where Crow Xander and Lost Warrier Xander were chatting with Dark Times Xander. "There he is. Damn. That has got to be the most depressing table in this joint. I read what happened to the Lost Warrior, and a Crow and the guy who is 2nd in command of Hell's Army, and deserving of it, all sitting together. Glad I'm over here." He turned back to see several murderous glares aimed at him.
"I can shut up if you'd like," G.O.D.S. Xander weakly replied. Then he did a double take at Elanthielle and cocked his head to the side in confusion and asked, "Kes?"
(Whoops. Forgot to get permission.)
Champions Xander walked over to a singles table with Phalanx-Xander. "Arm wrestle?" the black-clad offered.
"I'd beat you." the Jokilar Gerius said, uninterested.
"Pure physical, and only normal levels. No ki, no mental stuff, and the winner gets to atomize that BS Xander."
"DEAL!" Phalanx Xander suddenly exclaimed, sitting down.
Champions added, "And the one that cheats, loses." Phalanx Xander nodded and held up his hand. Champions Xander nodded back and set his elbow and grasped the other hand tightly. For the next four hours they stayed like that, the only strain able to be told from the creaking of the table beneath them.
"Wanna take bets?" Xander in Buffy's body asked Buffy in Xander's body.
(I think I'll stay out of it for a while now)
Seth watched Virigl follow Unity before approaching Joshua.
"Could I have a high powered sniper rifle? Unlimited supply of exploding bullets with it, please." Seth asked.
Joshua ducked under the counter and came back up with sniper rifle, a box-like contarption attached. "Character, please."
The doors spun fast, sending an Immortal Willow through. "AHHHH! OOOf!" A crash followed as she went tumbling. She got back up, but ended up tripping over E's unconcious form, giving the unconcious author an awakening jolt.
"STEVE! SARA!!" Seth roared.
"What? We're doing our jobs!" The two Muses said, evil innocent looks on their faces.
"Can I have the gun?" Seth asked Joshua.
Seth caught the gun, aiming it immediately at Steve. "Don't do it again, got it?"
Steve's reply was cut off as the building shook, sending all the patrons to the floor.
"Wasn't me!" The muses shouted as one.
The building shook again. "Josh! I think we're gonna need more weapons!"
The two figures walked calmly past the solid oaken doors, idly glancing around as they sauntered in.
They walked in an unthinking unison, both in carefully sink with each other and their surroundings. The man was actually typical of those in the room, a little over six feet tall, slightly unkept brown hair, brown eyes, and the faintest trace of the goofy grin that was echoed on a dozen faces in the inn already. Behind his eyes, though, he harbored a seriousness that would have looked foreign to any who counted on him being exactly like many of the others, or even like he used to be.
The woman, on the other hand, was as atypical of the room as she could be. Also six feet tall, she had long wavy hair that just seemed to float down around her head and shoulders in a sea-foam cascade. Her eyes were alert and sharp, a product of thousands of years of caution that didn't dissipate even here where she knew it was safe. She did, however, grimace as at least four of the duplicates of her companion wolf whistled in her direction.
"I see that some of your siblings have overcome you're peculiar problems with making advances on women." She muttered to her companion, then deftly tapped a control surface on her wrist.
Interlocking pieces of armor snapped into place, altering her 'chain mail bikini' into a battle hardened War Armor. Then casually flipped the finger to the whistlers as their jaws dropped before ignoring them altogether.
Alexander 'Seraphim' Harris rolled his eyes, "Jesus Elan... For someone who doesn't mind walking around half naked through eternity that seems like a terribly uptight move."
Elanthielle Bosca Timone shrugged under the form fitting armor, "I've long since learned that if I don't put you in your place from the start, I'm just asking for trouble down the road."
Xander pursed his lips at her, but the Ancient entity ignored the sharp look and frowned around the room. "You know, Alexander... I believe that we've found a nexus..."
"A what?"
"A Nexus." She returned calmly, "Look."
Xander followed her gaze, then frowned himself. "Ok. This is too weird. I know all about alternate realities... I mean, after that last excursion with you I guess it was fairly obvious. But why in the name of hell are there a dozen copies of me in here?"
Elan sighed, gently rubbing the bridge of her nose with two fingers.
"Hey..." One of the Xanders walked over to them, "Where's your author?"
Xander looked at him as if he were certifiable, "My *what*?"
Elan flinched, pulling Xander to one side. "There's a corner booth over there... Come on, I'll explain."
Xander wordlessly let her draw into the spacious booth, listening to some of the rather odd conversations floating around him for the first time. When they got to the corner booth, Xander noticed that she'd picked one with plenty of room for a rather large party. "Hey... Uh, Elan, we don't need all this space..."
"I'm just being careful." Elan replied, taking a seat.
Xander shrugged and slipped down beside her, "Ok. Why are all these people talking like they're fictional characters?"
Elan shrugged, "How many times must I explain to you, Alexander? This is the dreaming. People tend to believe whatever they are told... and this IS a Nexus."
"What IS a Nexus?"
Elan sighed, "A Nexus is a localized folding of space time that overlaps through multiple dimensions... usually in one of the upper dimensions..."
"Ok... this one I know." Xander said quickly before she could respond. "The universe is comprised of Nine Dimensional Axis. The first Three we know as the physical. The next three are the Temporal. And the last three are 'Dimensional'."
Then Xander frowned, "You know, it would be easier to understand if we didn't use the word dimension for two different things."
Elan shrugged, "If you didn't insist on speaking English then we could converse like civilized entities in Atlantean were we HAVE proper words for the concept."
Xander groaned and slumped his head to the table.
A musical laughter brought him up and he frowned to see a slim brunette in biker gear drop into the booth. "Who are you?"
She laughed again, reminding him a little of Paige or Phoebe, but with looks that were much closer to Elan's despite her hair color. "I'm your liason."
"My what??" Xander started holding his head.
"Your liason." She replied easily, extending a hand. "I'm Trace. I'm the Liason with your Chronicler."
Xander started to speak again, but Elan cut him off. "Before you ask 'your what?' yet again, allow me to explain?"
His jaw clicked shut with a audible click, and he nodded.
"Trace here," Elan said, "Is responsible for reporting your life events to a person in an alternate dimension who keeps track of them. He writes your 'Chronicles'. Though, I must say, in my day you were known as 'Muses'?"
Trace shrugged, "Still are mostly. But what can I say? I'm a corporate girl."
"Dressed like that??" Xander asked in disbelief as he took in her form fitting biker leathers.
"Hey, it's a weekend." Trace shrugged, "I get together with a few associates on our days off and we tour around some. You want me to wear a suit and tie all the time?? Besides, it's better then the bedsheet brigade over there. Some people just can't get their heads out of the 1950's... BC that is."
Xander, chagrined, shook his head, "Sorry."
"No problem." She shrugged, "Anyway... That's what this place is."
"What? A place where we get to meet people who have been writing about our lives?"
"More or less." She shrugged, "Chroniclers pretty much have absolute power within their realms though, so in some cases it's a matter of meeting your creator."
"Been there. Done that." Xander grinned.
"Yes. I know." Trace shook her head, "But not quite what I meant. You see... within their realm of power, a Chronicler... or Author if you wish, has pretty much absolute power... even over Her."
"Whoa."
"It's a little complicated though... the jurisdictional lines are a real mess." Trace confided, "Cause, you see, She has absolute power over the Chroniclers in THEIR home dimension... sort of a trump card, you get?"
Xander pinched his nose, trying to work through what he'd just heard, and frowned. "Wait a second. You're saying that someone out there is writing every word I say?? Someone is playing me like a damned puppet!?"
"No." Trace responded instantly, "Though it does happen. There are many Chroniclers who map out every event in their universe down to the last minute detail... Yours, however, does not. He likes to follow Her idea."
"What's that?"
"He sets things in motion, and then watches to see what happens." She replied, smiling slightly. "You, for example, have seriously screwed him up several times."
"I have?"
"Oh yes." She grinned.
"Ok.." Xander sighed, "I'll bite. How?"
"Paige for one."
"Pai..." Xander's eyes fired up. "That SOB was WATCHING US??"
She burst out laughing, "Oh relax. He barely peeked in enough to catch your words and general actions. Nothing worse then a soft R movie, I assure you. Though that time with the Spell pushed even his limits."
"If he had anything to do with..." Xander threatened, eyes flashing.
"He did actually..." Trace sad uneasily, "But really I think it was better then the alternative."
"What alternative?"
"Well, if he hadn't nudged Willow into casting that spell, then she probably would have gone a Dark Side binger a few years later and tried to end the world..." Trace explained, "He didn't really want that to happen."
"Willow would never..." Xander said, then paused. Finally he sighed, remembering her reactions to receiving a Whitelighter, "Ok... maybe she would."
"Trust me, you could do worse." Trace grimaced, "This one guy turned the entire gang into a parody of the hero's you were meant to be... trust me, you could do worse."
Xander shook his head, "I really don't like the idea of being some joker's puppet."
"You aren't." Trace said easily, "Like I said, you were never intended to fall for Paige you know... He expected you and Amanda to get together actually."
Xander blinked, shrugging. "Ok... so I threw him a curve, did I?"
"More then one." Trace replied, then paused as a tone emitted from her pocket. She frowned and pulled out a small Pocket PC. "Oh Damn."
"What?"
"It's him." Trace sighed, "Looks like he's noticed the Nexus."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I have to go back there and whisper in his ear about what we just talked about."
"Whisper?"
Trace shrugged, "Oh yeah... it's important that they don't know how powerful they are, you know... Their egos are hard enough to manage as it is. Besides, there are some really weird Chroniclers out there... You wouldn't believe how many of them have you in love with Spike for example."
Xander's jaw just about hit the table. "I'm WHAT??"
"Relax." Trace advised, "Most of those aren't a part of this Nexus... and besides, most of those versions of you are pretty much helpless without their vampire lover... and the Inn was built by a very competent guy at PJHX construction..."
"What the hell does that mean?"
Trace smiled nastily, "Ask Tim if you see him around. I've got to go... oh, hey, keep an eye out for a few other version of you that are monitored by the same Chronicler... I'll have the bartender direct them over to your booth when they arrive... now that his attention is focused here, you can bet that they'll be slipping in fairly soon."
"Hey wait!"
Trace paused and glanced back, "Yes?"
"If all these other guys are getting to meet their 'chronicler', will I?"
Trace shrugged, "Doubt it."
"Why not?"
"Your guy is a bit of a traditionalist... He thinks that he should be read, not seen." Trace grinned, "Just as well really..."
"Oh? Why?"
"Because you would remember him... and it's really not good to realize that you can kick the ass of the guy who technically tells you what to do."
Xander's jaw dropped again, and he tried to think of something to say, but by then, of course, she was gone.
He looked over to Elan, "This is really confusing."
"Nine dimensional physics tend to be." Elan grinned, "When you start mixing in Metaphysical concepts and then begin debating the existence of God... well, I prefer to assume that someone out there somewhere knows what they're doing... Do you know the song Desiderata?"
"Huh? No..."
"There is a line that sums up my philosophy quite well." Elanthielle smiled, "I like to do what I can with what I have... and then trust that the universe is unfolding as it should."
Bobby and the two Xanders had found a table and were chatting animatedly when the red-head accompanied by the auburn-haired beauty entered. The quick glance they tossed at the door to find out who the newcomers were turned into fixed stares, as one by one, parts of their brains began to shut down.
As the newcomers made their way to the bar, Bobby's slightly glazed expression turned to one of intense concentration. <They seem... familiar for some reason. Why would that be?> Then realisation dawned. <Oh, yeah... that's right.>
"Er... guys?" he said, and was completely ignored. "GUYS!"
Both Xanders snapped out of their trances and looked at him. "What?" they said simultaneously.
"Staring and drooling is not a good idea - particularly at *her*."
"Why not?" Call-to-Arms-Xander asked, his head already starting to twitch back towards the newcomers.
"Remember the rules? Authors and muses are the only people allowed in... and the version of *you* they're writing about."
"You mean..." Call-to-Arms Xander started.
"That's ME?" Shadows-Xander concluded.
"Yes... and then again, no," Bobby replied.
"Huh?"
"You see, that author's name is Lori Bush, and... well, it's a tad complicated, but remember that enjoining spell?"
"Yeah," Shadows-Xander said cautiously, while Call-to-Arms-Xander looked between them with a confused expression, which was hardly surprising, as they were discussing events in his future, and which probably wouldn't happen anyway.
Bobby didn't say anything, but sat back with a smirk on his face and took another sip of his drink, waiting for Shadows-Xander to draw the proper conclusion - which he did.
"You mean that's part ME?" Shadows-Xander exclaimed.
"Yep," Bobby replied with a slightly evil grin.
"Okay... now would be a good time for that explanation you promised," Shadows-Xander said, his expression indicating that a headache was gathering strength.
"Sure," Bobby agreed easily. "But before we start, I think I'd better get new drinks."
That was easily done, although the person sitting slumped at the bar, surrounded by three Xanders and a toga-clad woman bickering about what to do next provided a momentary diversion.
"What do we do with him *now*?"
"Wake him up?"
"Drag him to a quiet corner so that he can sleep it off?"
"I don't think there *is* a quiet corner in this place."
Shrugging, Bobby returned to his table, and distributed the drinks. "Why two drinks each?" Call-to-Arms-Xander wanted to know.
"I just know this is going to be a long story, andf I don't want to iterrupt it by having to get new drinks," Bobby explained.
"Fair enough," Shadows-Xander replied, snagging a glass of Norfolk Tears and taking an appreciative sip. "But before you start, how come Tears are available here?"
Bobby shrugged. "Dunno, but if I had to guess, I'd say that any drink that's mentioned in a story is available here."
"Which brings us to your explanation," Call-to-Arms-Xander said.
"Right... explanation," Bobby said, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Okay, out there-" his expressive gesture took in the world(s) outside the walls of The Inn "- is an infinite number of universes, dimensions... call 'em what you want. In each of them is a version of you. Standing slightly outside the whole deal are people like me.
"Call us 'authors', 'chroniclers', 'storytellers', whatever..."
"Is 'bastard' one of the available options?" Shadows-Xander interrupted with a smirk, while Call-to-Arms-Xander grinned.
"No. And stop interrupting. Anyway, what we do, is write of your adventures, and set the path for what you do in the future."
"WHAT?" both Xanders exclaimed together. "Do you mean that there are 'people like you' deciding what happens to us? And jerk us around on strings like puppets?" Shadows-Xander continued, slightly angry.
"Nonono," Bobby said hurredly, remembering that *this* Xander had weapons built into his body, was well-trained in their use, and was about twice as strong as the normal human. "Well, yes to the first question, but as for the second... yeah, some do, but I don't. I decide *what* happens next - the important events, anyway - but *how* you react is pretty much entirely up to you... which has caused me some difficulty, by the way."
"Caused you some difficulty," Call-to-Arms-Xander replied acidly. "My heart bleeds. So, it was *you* who decided to break my plan for dealing with the mayor at Graduation."
"And who decided to inflict a Big Bad on me that made everything we'd faced in the past pale in comparison," Shadows-Xander growled.
"What'd he do?" Call-to-Arms-Xander asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Shadows-Xander replied, not taking his eyes off Bobby for a moment.
Sensing that things could get very ugly *very* quickly, Bobby talked quicky. "What happened at Graduation was simply bad luck... could have happened to anyone."
Shadows-Xander nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. That was one of the things I was worried about at Graduation. And now that I know what one of the possible results of something going wrong is, I'm even more grateful that it worked."
Call-to-Arms-Xander shot a suspicious look at his other-dimensional counterpart. "What are you saying? Are you taking his side now?"
Shadows-Xander shrugged uncomfortably. "Sort of. Remember, the explosives in the High School *were* sort-of jury-rigged. Although Soldier Boy *was* demolitions-qualified, we'd forgotten most of his skills by that time, remember?"
"Yeah, but still..."
At this point, Calliope, who'd been listening quietly up to now, spoke up. "Boys... we're getting away from the subject of the conversation, here."
"Right," Bobby said, sending her a grateful look, which vanished as soon as both Xanders turned to look at him. "So... you decide what we're going to do at any point in time," Shadows-Xander said thoughtfully, but still with an edge to his voice.
"Hang on," Call-to-Arms-Xander said thoughtfully. "Does that mean that you're watching everything we do?" Both Xanders' expressions darkened somewhat at that. After all, they *both* had private moments that they wanted to *stay* private.
"Again, some of us... yes. But not me," Bobby explained. "I respect your privacy too much for that. I just take note of the important bits."
"That's not much better," Shadows-Xander muttered.
Sensing that things were still rather precariously poised, Bobby decided that now would be a good time for a distraction. "But we don't work alone. We're helped by 'muses', who provide us with our ideas and kick us in the arse when the fancy takes them," he explained. "Or bugger off to parts unknown... also when the fancy takes them," he muttered.
Calliope sent a glare at him, which he completely ignored, but her expression shifted to one of complete innocence when both Xanders started glaring at her in turn. The glares lacked the heat that had been aimed at Bobby - after all, it's difficult to glare at an attractive woman who's perfected her innocent look.
Just then, the glare-a-thon was interrupted by a, "Mind if I join you?"
The table's occupants turned to see *another* Xander approaching the table. For some reason, a rabbit was loping along beside him, and perched on his shoulder was...
"What is *that*?" Call-to-Arms-Xander asked increduously.
A *THUD* drew their attention back to Bobby, who'd banged his head on the table. "Ow," he muttered without looking up.
"And why is a rabbit following him?" Shadows-Xander asked.
"That's no ordinary rabbit," Bobby muttered.
"What, it's the one from 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail?" Call-to-Arms-Xander muttered.
"No, it's a Plot Bunny," Bobby said, lifting his head from the table. "It represents an idea that gets stuck in an author's head and won't go away until it's written." He glared at Calliope, who stuck her tongue out at him. "This is *YOUR* fault. I haven't even decided if I'm going to write this story yet, let alone actually written it!"
Calliope shrugged unconcernedly. "Consider it a hint, then."
"Do you know the meaning of the word 'subtle'?"
"Yes, but I choose not to be."
"Why does that not surprise me?" Bobby mumbled. "See what I have to put up with? *She's* the architect of most of your misery."
"And of the nice things that happen to you as well," Calliope put in.
Ignoring her, Bobby ontinued, and the 'animal' on his shoulder is a treecat who's adopted him." Seeing the confused looks on the two Xanders at the table, he continued, "A treecat is native to a world called 'Sphinx', where they live in the forests - hence the name - and they're not much less intelligent than humans, not to metion empathic with the human they adopt, and telepathic amongst themselves."
Shadows-Xander and Call-to-Arms-Xander were both looking at the treecat with intense interest. "What do they eat?" Shadows-Xander asked.
"Whatever they can catch, but rabbit is their favourite," Bobby explained. "They also enjoy celery."
"Then why hasn't he eaten the Plot Bunny yet?" Call-to-Arms-Xander wanted to know.
"Probably because he doesn't see it as a rabbit," Xander-with-a-treecat answered.
"That'd be it," Bobby agreed. "Pull up a seat, Xander."
"Thanks."
Just then, a couple of loud explosions rocked The Inn, but caused no lasting damage, and one of the walls flipped to reveal a weapons rack. "Calliope..." Bobby started.
"I know - get you some weapons, just in case," Calliope said, rolling her eyes before heading towards the wall in question.
"Thanks, Calliope! I really appreciate it!" Bobby called after her. "And besides, you owe me a few favours for trying to destroy my sanity the way you do on a near-continuous basis," he added, much more quietly.
"I *HEARD* THAT!"
"Bugger."
Before long, she returned with an assortment of weapons, even though the Inn had quietened down by this time. "What'd you get?" Shadows-Xander asked, eyeing the pile eagerly.
"For you, a maser carbine and gaussgun," she replied, handing the weapons to Xander, who checked them with practiced efficiency. "For you, Xander, a MP-5SDW," she continued, handing it to Call-to-Arms-Xander. "And a plasma carbine for you, Xander. For Bobby, a F-89 Minimi," she concluded, handing over the last two weapons in the pile. The orange-and-cream-coloured treecat hopped down from the third Xander's shoulder and 'bleek'ed at him.
"I know, I know, Sylvester," Honor-Xander said. "I'll be careful, so don't worry."
Sylvester the treecat 'bleek'ed again, but sounded more approving this time.
Bobby, however, wasn't too pleased with the weapon he got. "A *Minimi*?" he spluttered. "The one we called, and I quote, 'a girly-toy-thing'?" He raised his pinky to his mouth, and added in his best Doctor Evil impression, "And I shall call him... Mini-Me."
"Consider it payback for that last comment you made," Calliope said with a smirk.
"You are evil and vindictive," Bobby muttered.
"Oh, and there's one more thing. According to the rules of the weapon rack, if you want weapons, you have to bring the lead secondary character from one of your fics in," she added, still smirking.
"Alex," Shadows-Xander said immediately.
"Honor," Honor-Xander added quickly.
Call-to-Arms-Xander opened his mouth, and then shut it with a perplexed look on his face. "There's no-one I can think of to match those two - I think," he said, glancing at Bobby.
"Don't worry, there will be," Bobby reassured him. "Just not yet."
Call-to-Arms-Xander nodded. "So, who do we get?"
Bobby glanced at Calliope, who grinned broadly. "And the winner is..." she paused dramatically to point at the nearest wall. A portal appeared, and a tall woman stepped through it, moving with the grace of a dancer... or a martial-arts expert. She was dressed in a black-and-gold uniform, and was wearing a white beret over dark brown hair. A blaze of medal ribbons perched above her left breast, and there was a red stripe on her right jacket sleeve. A grey-and-cream-coloured treecat rode on her left shoulder, and Sylvester 'bleek'ed a greeting, which was returned.
She couldn't be called 'drop-dead gorgeous', but there was an atractiveness about her features that attracted attention, although the way she held herself strongly advised against taking liberties.
"Honor Harrington and Nimitz," Bobby, Honor-Xander and Calliope said together, and Bobby gestured for her to take a seat.
Nodding her thanks as she dropped into the indicated seat. Nimitz hopped off her shoulder to join Sylvester in the centre of the table, and tucked into the plate of roast rabbit that Calliope had thoughtfully supplied.
Honor surveyed the people at the table. "So," she said in a lear soprano voice, "can anybody explain to me what's going on here?"
Bobby put his head in his hands as Calliope grinned eagerly.
It was a normal day in heaven and Cute Kitsune Kaydee The Goddess Of Sex And Perversion And Exhibitionism was bored.
'I'm so bored!' , thought Kitsune. 'I need to find some excitement! I need some fun! I need to get laid!'
Kitsune looked around in her dresser for something to help relieve her boredom. She tossed out various articles of ... clothing with less fabric than a bandanna has. Not being able to find her Nene Romanova vibrator she was about to slam the drawer when something caught her eye. It was a flash of reflecting light. She picked up a mirror and laughed at what a baka she was for actually forgetting she had it, and cried a tear onto the Ranmaverse Nan Ban Mirror and said, "Take me to where I can get some fun!", and then vanished in a flash of light.
Kitsune looked around and found she was in a bar. She saw a sign. The sign said (THE INN. A place for Xander-writing fanfic authors to hang out and relax. Of course, if you show up, expect the version of Xander you wrote to turn up not longer after you do.) and thought, 'Oh, one of those places. Hmmm... This could be really - fun -!' while grinning very lecherously.
Kitsune sat at the bar and said, "Sake. Now. Lots of it." and dropped a bag of gold on the bar. The bartender took the gold and served allot of sake. Kitsune proceeded to down sake as if it were water now.
A slightly buzzed Kitsune Kaydee took out a bag of holding and looked around in it. "Now where did put my Muse?", she asked to herself.
She reached in and pulled out a large quadruped with horns that was about to charge at her.
"Whoah!", she exclaimed stuffing it back in. "That wasn't it! I'll try this again."
She reached in and pulled out a humanoid being with antlers.
"Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat.", said Bullwinkle.
Kitsune stuffed it back in saying, "Still not it!"
Kitsune reached in and pulled out a Chinese boy with long black hair wearing a white robe, glasses, and jeans.
"Shampoo my love!", cried out the boy loudly.
"Ack!", said Kitsune quickly stuffing back him in.
Kitsune reached back in and hoped this time luck would be with her. Unfortunately it wasn't. She pulled out something that said, "HOTCHA! SWEEETO!" and tried to grab her breasts.
"Oh! Hello there father. How are you?", asked Kitsune.
Happosai looked up at her and said, "Oh! Hello there daughter. I'm doing fine. Thanks for asking. How are you?"
"I'm doing fine father dear. Thanks for asking. So what have you been up to lately father?", asked Kitsune.
They talked awhile and then Happosai said he had to leave so they said their goodbyes and Happosai jumped in the bag to access it's dimensional gateway to their universe.
'I'd still better look for my Muse.', thought Kitsune.
'She'll probably be angry if I don't.', she realized.
Kitsune reached in and hoped for the best and finally pulled out her Muse.
Her Muse looked at her and said, "WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA OF LEAVING ME IN THERE FOR DAYS! WELL ANSWER ME! I'M WAITING DEAR! ARRRGGGHHH! I'M CHARGING YOU TRIPLE FOR THIS!", the small and winged version of Nabiki Tendo yelled.
Nabiki kept on listing the things she was going to do with Kitsune's Heaven credit account and Kitsune Kaydee kept hitting her head on the bar asking pitifully, "Why Me Dear Kami-Sama?"
A bolt of lightning hit the floor and spelled out a message 'Hey you chose her remember, I didn't.' and then repaired the floor good as new without any damage sign.
Lost Warrior Xander stared at the last people who entered and watched them walk to the empty booth near him. As they spoke, he listened and nodded to himself.
"A Nexus... that makes sense... but if there is one version of me... then where are the others I am so sure there have to be..."
He glanced over at the portal he had emerged from. It was still there, glowing and shifting colors continually. As he stared at it, it flashed a gold color and a figure emerged.
The figure was another Xander, only as he entered the room, he fell to the floor with his head hanging down. Slowly his body began to tremble and a strange hush came over the room. A soft shimmer rippled in the portal and seconds later a dark black bird followe the figure, landing on his shoulder.
Slowly, the figure got to his feet and lifted his eyes to the people in the room... his black-ringed eyes on a ghostly white face. LW Xander stared and then swallowed and caught the man's attention. The new arrival nodded and walked toward him.
"Yes?"
LW Xander motioned for him to sit... but he jumped and perched on the edge of the booth... like a bird on a tree limb.
"You're with me... I think. We both came out of that."
He pointed at the portal and the figure just nodded... then tilted his head as if listening to someone.
"Ah.. I see... the strange one brought you here as well."
LW Xander nodded and then decided to ask what was on his mind.
"What are you?"
A smile crossed the other Xander's face and he laughed.
"I... am a Crow."
LW Xander just shrugged.
"Crow?"
Crow Xander sighed.
"People once beleived when someone died, a crow carried their soul to the afterlife..."
As he told his story... sound filled the room again as everyone went back to what they were doing...
[The Blind Man is from an original fic I wrote.]
FWOOOOSH!
I blinked. One moment I was watching '2 Fast 2 Furious', the next I was in some pub somewhere.
"Heck, these people look alike...," I mused out loud. "Must be a family reunion or something."
Hang on!
"How did I get here?"
"Easy," a voice said to my left. I looked, then screamed a bit.
A figure in Red Faction armour, helmet tied to his waist. Faction Xander.
"I've fallen asleep, that's it," I said. "You don't exist."
"This is as real as you're gonna get," Faction said.
"Reality is only what you can perceive," a voice to my side said. I looked; the youth looked like Faction.
"Lovecraftian Xander?," I asked weakly.
"Lovecraftian?," the figure asked, puzzled.
"Lovecraft was a guy who wrote horror stories about the Necronomicon," I explained, not really with it so far. "I need a beer."
"Sure thing," Faction said. "Any kind? What about you?"
"Guinness," I muttered.
L-Xander mmm'ed in agreement.
"You're underage, even for where I come from," I snapped.
Something mentally twigged.
"Hold on a second...," I said. "You're all characters of my creation slash modification, right?"
General noises of agreement were made, as a Xander in a two piece suit toting an immense cross turned up, cigarette in mouth.
I immeddiately legged it for the door, resisting any and all attempts to stop me.
"LET GO! I AM *NOT* HANGING AROUND WAITING FOR THE BLIND MAN TO TURN UP," I shrieked.
"Hey! It's only Xanders you've created," L-Xander said, trying to calm me down. It didn't really work.
"How do you know that?," I asked, still trying for the door. "I'm NOT waiting to find out the hard way if Serus turns up -- being flayed alive!"
Faction sighed, then conked me on the head.
I woke up chained to a chair at a table, a pint of Guinness sitting in front of me.
"Okay," Xander the Evergreen said. "If you calm down, and promise to stay, we'll unchain you."
"If this Blind Man turns up," Faction said, "we'll protect you."
I thought about it.
"No!," I shouted. "Even if he is old, frail, and blind, I'm not hanging around!"
Faction looked a bit hurt at this. "What, you think we couldn't beat him?"
"Maybe L-Xander," I admitted. "But I want out until a reputable source can tell me that I'm in no danger of angry fanatical sociopaths torturing me!"