Hi there. Me and I decided to pair up for a little Subreality Cafe story. This story came to life after reading several other Subreality Café stories. Actually I was complaining about the self-plugging and patting on one's back I was seeing in some of the SC and I discovered that Me was a little tired of it too. We pooled our resources and came up with this little piece...

It's a place where characters come to relax, to kick back and complain about the ridiculous hoops their respective authors have them jump through. Where they can sit back with an iced cappuccino and be themselves. It's usually a lively place, an eclectic mix of party-goers and conversationalists.

Despite the way some characters clash, the Subreality Cafe has an amiable atmosphere that allows everyone to relax and have a good time. But today that is not the case. Right now, tensions in the Cafe are running high; an invisible line divides the room.

At a two-top in the corner, two characters are sitting, their glasses long empty. They are Ariel Jubilee and Misfire.

"Personally? I'm glad I'm not a big character. You know? I mean, little Siku comes in here and she get mauled by just about everyone. But when, oh, I don't know, Celende comes in she gets a bit of privacy.

"Fact is, when I come in, no one knows who I am. Why, last time anyone saw me, I was a baby. I kinda like it. I've been written into this world, but I don't have to do anything." Ariel smirks and leans back in her chair.

Misfire glares angrily from her drink. She hates it when somebody interrupts her from her deep thoughts, especially if she's contemplating the meaning of life and death. Looking over to Ariel, she frowns. "You may be satisfied, Ariel. I am not. It's not enough that I simply exist."

Getting back to her drink, she tries to snag the remaining cubes of ice, when she notices her companion staring sadly at her. "Look," she replies in her defense. "I want to do something, make something out of my life. This place..." She shakes her head. "It gets real old after a while. There's nothing to do but sip coffee all day long." The melted ices stick firmly to the side of her glass. They don't budge no matter how hard she shakes the glass. Giving up, she places it down on the table and sighs.

Ariel picks up her empty glass and swishes the icy sludge on the bottom with her straw. "Listen, I'm going to go get another Sprite. Want something while I'm up?"

"Get me another Italian soda; raspberry flavor." She hands her glass to her and sits back, drifting off, dreaming of better days.

"Okay." Ariel stands and walks across the room avoiding a group of characters sitting at a large round table. A lovely picture of The Water Lilies, drawn by Claude Monet, hangs on the wall in back of them.

As she passes a small table to the side of the walkway, she feels a sharp pain on her butt.

"Ow!" she yelps, turning around quickly to catch the miscreant who pinched her.

A small robotic creature, conspicuous by his too-nonchalant whistling and averted eyes, sits at a table with a gumball machine and a dark-headed man.

"Crow!" the man exclaims. "I'm sorry, miss," the man says to Ariel. "I'm going to have to apologize for Crow here. I don't know what's got into him."

Ariel blushes a bit, flustered. "Oh...um, that's all right. "

"I'm Mike Nelson," says the man, standing and offering his hand.

Ariel smiles. "I'm Ariel. Who's your author?"

"Well, Martha (and cat) first pulled us into some mutant-crossover from hell. But Kielle," at the mention of the Scribe's name, the two humans and robots look to the full portrait of Kielle on the wall and they all cross themselves, "gave us our first story in this universe."

"Kielle's my author; she invented me," Ariel proclaims proudly.

"Well she did A ~GREAT~ job, might I add," replies Crow.

"Thanks..." Ariel answers uncertainly. "Is this your first time here?" she asked the group.

"Yeah," Mike says. "We received a letter about the Grand Opening, but this was our first chance to sneak out to see the place. I've got to say, it's really great."

"I think so. But let me give you a bit of advice...see that group in the corner?" Ariel indicates the straight-laced, unrelaxed group she had avoided earlier. "Don't talk to 'em. They aren't supposed to be here."

Ariel leans over the table and whispers. "They're here in character! Their ~own~ authors write them in here. They come here and act all cool like they belong here. But they don't.

"See those nerdy-looking kids in the back with the computers? Those guys are ~authors~ and they sit in the corner writing their characters into the Cafe. It is so weird. Like, if you go up to one of the characters and ask them something, it takes them a while to respond because they ~have to wait~ for their authors to think of something for them to say. They can't do anything by themselves; they're so dependent."

"Oh, the humanity!" exclaims the gumball machine-thing.

"Tell me about it," Ariel rolls her eyes. "No one likes 'em. They're real geeks. They just sit at their little table and talk amongst themselves 'cos no one else wants to talk to them 'cos they might as well be talkin' to the authors. They're puppets for cryin' out loud!"

The gumball-machine and Crow both yell "Hey!" indignantly.

"No offense," Ariel adds quickly. "Oh! Listen, I forgot. I just left my friend Misfire sittin' over at our table! I gotta go, but hey, call me sometime, eh?"

With that, Ariel scribbles her number on a napkin and gives it to Mike.

"Um, is there any time that's good for you?" he asks.

"Oh, whenever, I'm not an any story right now. I'm usually here. Bye." Ariel winks and makes her way to the bar.

Arriving at the front counter, she places the empty glasses on the table. "Hey," she calls to the bartender, a genial-looking man with black hair. "I need a Sprite and an Italian soda, raspberry."

"Sure thing, Ariel."

He disappears for a moment. While he's gone, Ariel suspiciously watches a woman bartender at the other end of the bar. She's standing by Vincent van Gogh's Starry Night. When the bartender returns with the beverages, Ariel asks him, "Um, hey is that...Whoopi Goldberg in the pink mushroom suit?"

Bartender laughs. "No, that's Guinan from Star Trek. She received notice that she might be written into a Marvel story, so she decided to apply for a job here. I've gotta say she's really great; makes a mean Tamarian Frost. But, she's kind of...talkative and she doesn't make any sense. Watch this."

Bartender turns to the other woman. "Hey, Guinan. C'mere. This young lady has a problem."

Guinan rushes over. "What's the problem?"

Ariel notices the Bartender's wink and so she begins talking. "Well, see there's this guy who likes me..."

"Men are wonderful creatures of the universe. They are like the little labels on bottles of hair spray that say 'flammable.' Everyone knows the hair spray is flammable, but we need the meaningless little label so that we can have something to ignore and throw away." Guinan smiles and walks away.

"See what I mean?" states Bartender.

Ariel shudders. "Oh boy. Um, thanks for the drinks and the warning."

"Any time." He goes back to glassware. Ariel makes her way back to Misfire.

"Here." Ariel hands Misfire her drink. "Why the sour face?" she asks. Ariel takes her seat, looking around at the abrupt appearance of the fancy decor. A crystal chandelier pops out, hanging overhead and a painting of the Mona Lisa, by Leonardo da Vinci, suddenly graces the atmosphere.

"Don't you ever leave me alone," she scolds. She fidgets around uncomfortably, moving her shoulders around.

A semi-apologetic look flashes across Ariel's face. "What is it, Mis'? Look, if that Jesse guy's been hitting on you again...well, don't kill him; he'd be conspicuous by his absence."

Misfire glares. "~No~, that's not it. I had to sit through another of ~her~ drivels again."

"Oh," Ariel answers, slightly confused. She peers around the Cafe, trying to see if she can spot the mysterious 'her.' She finds three Scott Summers and two Jean Greys, sitting around a large table, arguing. Or is that Madelyne Pryor? In the next table beside them, is a very young Rogue, sitting and conversing with a black house cat. There are a few more patrons, some well-known, others not, but no sign of 'her,' whoever she is. Evidently, Ariel is too late.

Misfire grits her teeth, her hand reaching for her hand pistol. Firearms are not allowed in the Cafe, but somehow she manages to hold onto hers. Actually, quite a few of them still have their weapons, ranging from a phaser to a common tablespoon.

"If I have to sit through another one of her ravings about her daughter and her damn sister, I'm going to kill her and her entire family," she snarls.

Ariel raises her eyebrow in concern. Her friend generally has a short temper and can really make a mess if she wants to. It's even worse when she's really peeved off. Ariel doesn't relish the thought of cleaning after her, which is what the Manager will make them do if Misfire does blow someone away. "What are ya gonna do?" she questions.

Misfire relaxes her grip and slumps down into her chair. "Ahhh, who am I kidding. They'll only get resurrected again, just like everyone else here. It's useless." The statue of David by Michelangelo shows up beside her and her eyes wonder, studying it indifferently.

"Well, cheer up. Guess who I ran into?"

She glances annoyingly at Ariel. "I'm not a mind-reader, Ariel. You wanna go talk to one of those Jean's for that. I'm not in the mood for guessing games." Misfire takes a sip from her drink and gazes at another life-size portrait of Kielle.

"Well...I'll tell you about him. His name is Mike. And he's real cute. Keeps weird company, but Kielle wrote him into a story, so he has to be a really great character. Anyhow, he's going to call me sometime. I don't think he's a mutant, but that's okay."

"That's just great, Ariel. I'm happy for you, really I am." She loses interest in the statue and Ariel.

"C'mon. Don't be down. You've gotta have a positive prospective. Jus' look at Lee Forrester over there. Do you think ~she's~ upset? She been here for months and it doesn't look like her writer's ever gonna pull her out of here, but she fine as a..."

Interrupting Ariel's chatter, Misfire's eyes widen. "Oh god. Look who's coming back." Ariel turns her head halfway when Misfire restrains her. "Don't look. C'mon. Let's get out of here." Grabbing hold of her drink and Ariel, she drags her away from the table.

"Wait!" Ariel reaches for her Sprite, almost missing it in the attempt. "Where are we goin'?" she asks.

Misfire pulls Ariel into the Ladies' room. The Ladies' room is entirely in pink with pink doors, pink walls, pink sinks, even pink toilet paper. Ariel groans in disgust. Who's designing the Cafe? He or she has terrible taste.

Misfire turns and locks the door shut. "We'll hang out here for a bit and then make a run for it."

"Who's here that's got ya so upset?"

With distaste Misfire begins to explain. "Oh, it's--"

She is interrupted as someone comes out of a stall. Misfire casually unbolts the door. The woman is dressed in a baggy black sweatsuit. Her hair is a lovely color of silver and cascades over her shoulders.

"Mary!" Ariel exclaims, giving the woman a hug. "Where have you been?!"

Mary smiles and speaks in unaccented English. "Oh ~heavens~! My author dropped me a ~long~ time ago and I've been left to my own devices ever since. I finally grew that damn mohawk out and look respectable."

"It does look a lot better," Ariel concedes.

Mary puts on a pair of black sunglasses and begins smearing some black paint on her face.

"What are you doing, Mar?"

"I came in about three days ago, just hangin' out, and I gotta leave in camo. I mean, if I go walkin' out in the real world my author might find me. And if I'm found...I might get a sequel." Mary shudders.

Misfire looks skeptical. "Why wouldn't you want a sequel? I would give anything to have a job again!"

Mary shakes her head. "I would too if ~Kielle~ was my author. But she's not. And if my author finds me, I'll be destroying worlds and killing telepaths and running amok in general. I know I'll end up dressing like a hooker if I'm ever found! Gotta run!"

With that, Mary dashes out the door. Ariel and Misfire shrug and follow suit.

Outside of the bathroom, Misfire carefully scans around the corner. She has her pistol in her hand, ready to fire. Ariel calmly sips from her soda again, watching her.

"Your friend seems a little nervous," stated a male voice.

Startled, Ariel follows the voice to a man sitting in a booth table. The painting, The Night Watch by Rembrandt, hangs on the back wall. He slowly takes a gulp from his coffee and smiles. Something about him is very familiar to Ariel. She can't seem to place him, but he does seem nice and friendly as well as being very attractive.

Wearing a dark business suit with a blue tie, his trenchcoat lays beside him on the cushion bench. Leaving Misfire to her business, Ariel approaches with Sprite in hand and inquires, "Hi. You must be new here. I don't recognize you. Who's your writer?"

A perplexed look crosses his face. "My writer?" He seems to think it over, his forehead furrowing before coming to his answer. "You must mean my creator. That's Chris Carter."

"Chris Carter? He must be new; I've never heard of him before," Ariel answers, scratching her head. "My name is Ariel Jubilee. My writer's name is Kielle." She beams with proud over that last remark.

Reaching over with his hand, the man answers, "It's very nice to meet you, Ariel. I'm--"

"Special Agent Fox Mulder," Misfire finishes. She finally notices Ariel's absence and advances toward them. Her gun is back in her holster and she grips her glass with two hands like she's choking it.

"Well, my parents didn't give me the Special Agent part, but that's close enough," he jokes, giving a wink to Ariel. "And you are...?"

Ariel jabs her elbow into Misfire's ribs. "Ouch! Oh, pardon me." Misfire grips her shoulders tightly in vengeance. "My little friend here can be very ~pushy~. My name is just Misfire, Agent Mulder."

"Why don't you join me." He waves his hand to the empty bench opposite to him.

"We'd love to," Ariel answers.

Ariel pulls the reluctant Misfire into the seat with her.

Misfire snorts. "So where's your partner, Scully? I thought you two were inseparable." She puts her drink on the table and leans back. Her head is still turning, looking about the Cafe.

"Don't mind her. She always like this, Mr. Mulder," Ariel retorts. "She's a little nervous."

"I can tell. Are the little green men after you? If so I can help." He smirks, amused by Misfire's anxious behavior. She only ignores him. "As for Scully, she's on assignment without me. I got killed off."

"Ouch," Ariel says, wincing. "That's right. Valerie bumped you off too."

Misfire shoots out, "Sorry to hear that." Half-way out of her seat, she peeps over the Mr. Mulder's head. All she finds is a Picasso over in the next booth. She is clearly not with the conversation.

"Sit down!" cries Ariel. She yanks Misfire down and gives her a stern warning. "Jus' take a chill pill will ya."

Misfire folds her arms, shutting her mouth. She stares angrily at a Rembrandt, trying to pay no attention to either of them..

"She's a little paranoid, but once you get to know her like I do, she's great company," Ariel explains. She is relieved to see Agent Mulder grinning at Misfire. Obviously, he's not annoyed or bothered by her pal's behavior.

"That's fine and I think I know what she's going through."

Misfire snorts at his comment. "Sorry to cut this short, but we have to go."

Ariel protests, "Go where? We just sat down."

"C'mon, Ariel." Misfire tugs her out, leaving their drinks behind. "Bye, Mr. Mulder."

"Good-bye." He seems rather disappointed by the hasty departure, but he smiles. "Maybe another time."

Ariel grins, "Oh for sure."

Misfire and Ariel are some distance away when Ariel stops Misfire. "Hold on a second." She races back to his table and jots down something on a napkin. Whispering into his ear, Ariel hands him the napkin. He smiles and nods his head at her.

When she returns, Misfire looks at her with disapproval. "Isn't he a little bit old for you?"

She grins back at her. "I know that. That's why I gave him your number."

Dumbfounded at the unexpected announcement, she utters, "You did what?!"

"I gave him your number," Ariel repeats. "And told him to call you."

"Why did you do that for? Where do you get the crazy idea that I would be interested in him?" Misfire asks. Her hands fly to her hips, waiting for Ariel's response.

Ariel replies, "Well, you said you wanted to do something. Now here's your chance."

She only gawks at the younger character. "Unbelievable!"

"You two have a lot in common. You both work for the government, you both like to carry loaded weapons, and you're both dead at the moment. It's not like you have anything else better to do," Ariel counters. Misfire has been in a slump ever since she was killed off. This outing will be good for her. Dead Nights haven't been lifting her spirits lately, especially since Misfire was killed by her own clone; in the Cafe that's pretty embarrassing. Plus, if she can get Misfire to go out with Fox Mulder, think of all the juicy rumors and gossips she can start.

Misfire shakes her head at the idea. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"You don't have to marry the guy. Maybe go out to dinner and talk. C'mon, you'll have fun." Ariel smiles expectedly at her.

Still shaking her head, a ringing sound radiates from Misfire's coat. Pulling out her cellular, she answers it. "Hello?" A pause follows. "It's for you."

"Me?"

Nodding her head, she hands the phone over to Ariel.

"Hello?...oh, hi." Ariel blushes deeply. "Really?...oh!...so do you, cutie. You animal!" Suddenly Ariel laughs out loud hysterically. "You are so funny! 'I am not an animal, I am a human being,' I loved 'Elephant Man!'" Ariel giggles. "Well, listen...me and my friend were just getting ready to leave...right...right...uh-huh...a satellite? Wow. What? Satellite of Love? Sounds like a nice place...huh? Oh, I'd like that. I'd ~really~ like that. Okay...Okay. Sounds good...yeah, good night and god bless to you too."

Ariel clicks the cell phone off, smiling broadly.

"Hot date?" Misfire asks sarcastically, obviously uninterested in Ariel's love life.

"Let's just say I'm going to be a member of the million-mile-high club."

"Right. Let's get out of here."

Misfire and Ariel make their way to the back door. But suddenly, a voice calls out:

"Hey Misfire, where ya going?"

"Damn it," Misfire mumbles. "Damn it to hell!" Reaching for her gun, Misfire turns around.

"How can I help you, Selana?"

"Uh-oh," Ariel says under her breath. "So that's why she wanted to get out of here..."

"Hey, no shooting allowed," shouts the Bouncer. He makes his way to Misfire, but Wolverine blocks his path.

Aiming her gun at Selana, she asks, "What's wrong, Guardian? Cat got your tongue?"

"Take it easy, Misfire." Selana carefully raises her hands in the air. "I know it's tough being dead, but that's no reason to go shooting people."

The Marauder eyes her wildly as an evil grin suddenly appears on her face. "Tough, huh? Yeah, you can say I had it tough, but then you just don't know what tough is."

"NO! Misfire!"

BANG! Then a PLOP.

Rouge scurries over to the body laying on the floor. "She's dead, sugah."

The Bouncer manages to push Wolverine aside and grabs the gun from Misfire's hand. "Missy, I told you before; no shooting. What would happen if you hit one of the artworks, huh?"

"So sue Kielle then," she retorts. "Let's go, Ariel." Together they exit through the back door.

"Misfire!" Ariel hisses while they walk down the street. "That was ~no~ way to talk about the Scribe!"

Misfire only glares.

"Look, Mis', I hate to end this on a sour note, but I've got to go. I'm meeting Mike..."

"Have a nice time," Misfire says; though Ariel didn't think she meant it.

"Bye!"

...On the Satellite of Love...

ARIEL: Wow, Mike, this is ~really~ cool!
MIKE: Well, you know, we try and keep it nice.
ARIEL: Oh, what's that? Is that like, a vault door? What's inside?
MIKE: A theater. Want to see it?
ARIEL: I'd love to.

[They step inside.]

'BOTS: Heh heh heh heh heh!
ARIEL: What was that, Mike?
MIKE: Um...I don't know. I think it was the 'bots...they must, uh, be watching a funny tv show.
ARIEL: Oh, all right. Wow, another door?
MIKE: Yup. There's six of 'em.
ARIEL: Wow, tight security for your theater, eh?

[Coughs]

MIKE: You have no idea, Ariel.
ARIEL: What movie are we going to see?
MIKE: Oh, you know, some sci-fi B movie, those are always fun.
ARIEL: Uh-huh.
MIKE: Well. Here we are!
ARIEL: Spacious!
MIKE: Yup. Here, have a seat.
ARIEL: Thanks.
MIKE: Look, Ariel, I'll be right back...okay?
ARIEL: Sure thing.

[Slam!]

ARIEL: Mike? Mike, are you there?

[Silence]

ARIEL: Mike! Hey, Mike let me out! The movie's starting!

[Laughter]

ARIEL: Hey, I'm locked in! Let me out guys!...what is this? This is some bad movie! Help!

~FINIS~

Ariel Jubilee, Misfire, Dead Night and The Subreality Cafe concepts belong to Kielle. We are not worthy! The Manager, the Bouncer and the Bartender belong to Falstaff. Celande belongs to Ms. Marvel. Siku belongs to Darqstar. The Lee Forrester character is written by Dandelion, but belongs to Marvel. Mary Silver belongs to Bluesilver. Rouge belongs to all the writers who never proofread their story! You know who you are. Mike Nelson, Crow T. Robot, Tom Servo, and the Satellite of Love are a part of Mystery Science Theater 3000, all belonging to Best Brains, Inc. Special Agent Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are a part of X-Files, belonging to Chris Carter. Guinan is a part of Star Trek: The Next Generation, belonging to Gene Roddenberry, "The Great Bird of the Galaxy." Kielle, Martha (and cat), Valerie, Chris Carter, and Jesse belong to themselves. All the X- characters belong to Marvel Comics. All the artists named are long dead, so they can't do anything to us, and all the artworks are on special loan for this one story.

Email Me (you know who I'm talking about) at: monet@uky.campus.mci.net if you have something nice to say.

If you don't, then you can email me, Link. Otherwise leave me (Link) alone.