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Disclaimers et al at the end. Oh, and I've not read any of the list for two days. Been busy....
Introductions, Singalongs and Booze It was a building three blocks up and a hop skip and jump over from the Subreality Cafe. As with all things in Subreality, it was just created but has existed for the last thousand years. Wooden timbers, brick, concrete foundation studded with little pieces of glass to form a mosaic. At least, that's what it currently looked like. Which doesn't explain much. The wooden sign hanging over the door was painted in a gold-outlined bronze. "Bronze Menagerie" Horses, demons and rabbits were painted in tiny miniature, frolicking. There had originally been a plate-glass window, but it was taken out the day three Buffys went through it without care for the other patrons. They'd been playing around. That was the day that Doyle, the Manager, had decreed that NO play-fighting would occur on the main floor. All of it was restricted to the basement. In short order, the basement room became known as the Dust Swirls. Probably since any vamp that went down there tended to clog the fan after dying. Xander, the resident bartender, liked to smile charmingly and ask everyone their troubles. His co-bartender, a slightly saner Drusilla someone had once written, tended to NOT scare people so much as, well, charm them. "Hallo, luv." The blond vampire in black leather sat down swaggeringly on the stool and leered at the pretty barmaid. "Hallo, my Spike. You really want a whisky." "No, I--" His eyes glazed. "I really want a whisky." She smiled and chirruped. "Good." And so on. Xander is a nice young chap, tends to get a little googly-eyed over certain of the female customers. But controllable. At least, that's what the Manager tells me. Doyle, the aforementioned Manager, is a nice lad. If a bit on the occasional demonic side. His lovely hostess, Ms. Cordelia "I'm only doing this so I can be discovered and then I'll be the Star of every major motion picture for a decade." Chase, is a bit overwhelming when you first meet her. Not that many do. She's deputised some of her Cordettes to do it all for her so she can go snuggle in a back room with the Manager himself. No, most of the customers are greeted by the sugary sweet blonde bimbo, pre-vamped Harmony. When she can be dragged away from mooning after Spike. Very few know the Owner of our establishment. Even fewer would be ready for the knowledge. You see, quite a lot of them detest him and think he should die. Quickly. Some have even asked for his head on a platter. With cherries for garnish. His partner, one Reginald Flutie, is the one that many see. Not that he's all that accepted either. Considering he thinks everyone should be one little family. Of course, the Owner is really more the Financier, since he never enters the premises. And, actually, there are four of them. They decided the best way to get revenge for failing miserably all the time was to get money from their beloved enemies. Ethan Rayne is really the mastermind behind it. He's the one that contacted Darla and made her the offer she couldn't refuse. Snyder was already running a good, steady business with his House of Ill Repute on Flop street. And Flutie was aimlessly wandering, searching for revenge. And had lots of money, since he always had beginner's luck at the clubs. They decided to hire Doyle, who took the job with an oath to never reveal who they were. And he can basically run the club as he sees fit. It's why he hired the two Bouncers. One working night shift, one day. In reality--or, Subreality, as this is--neither Bouncer liked the other. And both tended to 'overstay' their shift out of spite. Not that you can blame them, one died so the other could live and the other then proceeded to betray everyone. Everyone is welcome at the Bronze Menagerie. Fictives, Buffyverse or otherwise. We sometimes even get the off-duty ER folks complaining mightily about the lack of good fic for them. Muses aren't usually a problem, since they tend to like coming in and talking witchcraft with the Willows. A Giles or two might try to butt in, but he usually gets ignored. Or dragged off by a rogue Jenny Calendar. The Writers, on the other hand, are only allowed in on alternate Saturdays. Of course, considering the mess after the LAST Saturday, the Bouncers may object to that. Drooling fanboys and Buffys in flirtatious moods just do NOT mix. But, really, it's a quiet place, or loud, depending on who's doing the writing. Sometimes it's in the middle, to mediocre, to just... But I'm probably boring you. Oh. One last thing, since I think I've covered the basics, you're probably wondering who I am. I'm the person that's seen this cafe/bar/club/whatever they want it to be through thick and thin. I'm the building it's in. Now, must dash to think up some lovely timber thoughts. Bye now, come visit! Unless you're a Writer. --- They were laughing. Really, they should have been out working, since their Writer was supposed to be finishing the epic saga. Instead, they were pub-crawling through Subreality. And laughing. "So, so anyway, I turned to him and said 'No, I didn't know that was your jacket. Sorry. The tiger kind of ate it.'!" Domino snickered, "Marya, if I really thought you'd eaten a jacket..." "I'd be nuts." Marya DeZorga supplied, snickering, herself. "Something like that." The third member of the party replied. "So, this is what you do? Get drunk and tell ridiculous stories?" Marya giggled. "Aw, poor Maddie. She's a psychotic-kinetic being and can't drink." "I will be if we don't do something interesting. Soon." The redhaired woman replied. "You will be what, a drink?" Domino asked, her eyebrow raised. "Psychotic." Maddie sighed. "Why don't we leave this establishment and try the next one?" "Sure. I've heard there're two places that just opened-have been--never mind. Just opened recently." Marya hopped off her bar stool and tossed some coins on the bar. "Let's go, ladies." The other two trailed her out the door of the Writer's Cafe. Where Marya stopped and shook Pinnochio's hand. "Thanks, sir." "Y're welcome, ma'am." And with that, they were off, traversing the night-time streets of Subreality City with the panache of old-timers. Within a short amount of time, they entered another street and found themselves outside one of the newer drinking establishments. "Hrm." Marya read, "Stake House." "Sounds very punny." Dom said dryly. "I hope not, I've had my fill of puns." noted Maddie sardonically. "Let's just go in and get this over with." As they approached, a little man stepped out. "Hello, ladies, welcome to the Stake House. In this establishment, you'll find many colourful drinks and foods. And candy that you will not believe." Marya looked at Maddie and Dom, her eyebrow raised. "Well, we did say--" "Every place we'd get a drink." The other two chorussed. "Yes." With a grin, Marya stepped past the little man and through the door. The interior of the Stake House was reminiscent of every 80s nightclub born. With some disco parlours thrown in and enough black lights from the goth side of things to make it eye-catching. Which is, to say, it was brightly coloured, multi-coloured and flashy. "My eyes are bleeding, can we leave?" "No, Dom, we must see this through." "If there's a drink called the Weasel, we are SO gone." Maddie decreed. "You an' me both, sistah." Marya nodded and led the way down the short set of spiral stairs. And thence to the bar. "Bartender? What's the house special?" The bartender batted extremely long and silver-tipped blue lashes, then smiled without flashing fang. "Tonight's House special is the Blue Mango Lagoon." Marya raised an eyebrow. "What's in it?" "Blue Cirroco, irish cream and a dash of mango juice." He smiled at them and mixed one quickly. "Lovely and swirly, isn't it?" "Erm..." Dom looked at it, then looked at the bartender. "Just give me a shot of whisky." "Same here." "And I'll just watch my two companions get drunk off their asses." Maddie smiled sweetly. "Oh, tomorrow morning is going to be so fun." "I don't get drunk." Marya replied with diginity. "No, you get smashed off your arse and end up dancing on table-tops, then singing in the gutter when they kick us out." Dom retorted reminiscently. "That, too." Marya grinned and raised her shot glass. "To friendship." "To a really good bar brawl that we're not involved in." "To... Well, whatever." Madelyne turned away and looked at the clientele. "Ladies, do you get the feeling we're surrounded by badly dressed men--er, scratch that," She amended hastily as one of the aforementioned men yawned and flashed a large amount of fang. "Badly dressed *dead* men?" "There're some well-dressed dead men, too." Domino nodded, and looked around, "And some gaudily dressed dead men as women." "Wow." Marya blinked. "This is the gay bar for vampires." "We cater to every individual's needs and desires." The Host stepped up and smiled at them, his satellite-dish ears waggling slightly. "There wasn't a place for us. Now there is. That's why I, Snyder, chose to build the Stake House." "Ah...." Marya blinked at him. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, 'us'?" "Please, ladies, do hang around for another little while. The nightly karaoke is about to begin. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get our announcer ready." Dom looked at Marya, who looked at Maddie, who looked back at Dom. "Let's get another drink." "Good idea. Bartender!" Ten minutes later, as promised, the small stage off to the side was suddenly strutted upon. The woman--er, man--wore way too much makeup and an atrocious blonde wig. "Didn't that outfit go out with Hoover?" Dom asked idly. "It should BE hoovered." Marya corrected. The outfit was sequins. In every colour. All over a bodysuit of every colour. The thigh-high white boots made it, though. Really. "I am out of here. Now." Maddie didn't bother with the conventions, just hopped into the air and out the door. "Well, hell." "Yeah." The two looked at each other, then at the bartender. "Check, please." Two minutes and an "Oh, it's on the house." later, the two exited the Stake House and found Maddie leaning against the building next door, giggling. "I had a recomendation from one of the gentlemen who entered after I left." "What was it, Maddie?" "He suggested the Bronze Menagerie. Said it was a new club, but fairly nifty." She snorted. "Nifty. Yeah." "Where is it?" "Across the street, several doors down, I believe." The Bronze Menagerie's front door was only partially opened. A young black girl leaned against it, playing idly with the stake in her hands. She glanced up as the three approached. "You are?" "Marya, Dom, Maddie." Marya smiled charmingly. "We've heard this is a lovely establishment. May we enter?" She scrutinised them. "I--" "Oh, c'mon, Kendra. It's not like they're going to be a problem. Unless they score on my boys." A smiling young brunette peered out the door, leaning absently on Kendra's shoulder. "Hi, I'm Faith. This is Kendra." Kendra stiffened and shrugged Faith's arm off. "I was merely checking their credentials." She snapped. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." The dark-eyed Faith smiled sardonically. "Come on in, gals." "Thanks." Marya nodded and stepped up to the door, then blinked at Faith, who still blocked it. "Move." "Oh. Sorry." She smirked and moved just enough that Marya would have to almost touch her as she walked past. "Yeah." Telekinetic fingers snapped out of the wall and jerked the girl against it, squeezing her back. "Sorry." Dom snickered softly as she stepped into the hallway, Maddie following closely. The moment all three were past her, the fingers released Faith who sagged, gasping for breath. "Well, can't blame a girl for trying." "Yes, I can actually." Marya tossed back. She dismissed the girl. "Now, let's get a drink ladies." The difference between the Stake House and the Bronze Menagerie (sometimes called the Bronze) was that the Menagerie was much calmer. Dark tones in the wood panels and dark red brick around the fireplace in one corner. The bar was topped with a dark, seamless slab of granite veined with bits of gold and silver. Background music was provided by a jukebox in one corner, and, occasionally, a band on the small stage. Currently, Depeche Mode was playing softly.
~o/I give in to sin The bartender looked up and blinked. "Marya?" "Xander!" She leaned over and hugged him. "How've you been, I haven't seen you in ages!" "Not since you sort of wandered off on that quest to find yourself." He smiled. "But that's okay. What'll it be, ladies, this one's on the house." "Kamikaze." Dom replied promptly. "The same." "And, as before, I'm going to plot exactly how to video tape you singing in the gutter." Maddie calmly perched on a stool and smiled at Xander. Xander nodded and turned to mix the drinks. Marya took the moment to lean against the bar and scan the room. She froze, "Hrm. Be right back, ladies." She hopped off the stool and wandered across the room, stopping at a table that contained several Angels. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but, did I hear one of you saying something about *missing* New Kids on the Block?" "That would have been me," The one on the left replied gloomily. "I mean, Backstreet Boys and N'Sync try, but, but... They just don't DO it for me, y'know." "Uh-huh." Marya called, "Buffy!" About twenty blonde heads popped up. "Yes?" "Could I borrow a stake from one of you?" The several tossed pieces of wood cause Marya to duck behind the accidental disintegrating of a few Angels. "Oops. Damn. Got the one I'd wanted to, to." She straightened and smiled brightly. "Thanks!" Dom looked up as she walked back. "What the hell was that all about?" As she dusted herself off, Marya grimaced. "Never mind. Where's my drink?" --- "Oooooooh, a Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar on evenin' fair--" Marya stopped and yelped as an elbow drove into her midsection. "What," she wheezed out, "Was that for?" "I haven't gotten a camera, yet." Maddie replied sweetly. "Oh." Marya smiled the smile of the very drunk. "Well, I'm going home. Dom?" "Hrm?" The violet-eyed mercenary looked at Marya. "What?" "Let's go home." "Okay." "Dammit. You two are no fun. You have NO stamina." Maddie stamped a foot. "Look, the suns only JUST coming up, you should still be all wide awake!" "Maddie?" "What?" She glared, arms crossed. "Bugger." "OFF!" --- End
Credits: Whooohoo.... |