Subreality Cafe: The Muse's Menace (or, The Eternal Battle)

by Dandelion

The Bouncer moved in front of the door as the black-cloaked figure melted out of the shadows and towards the entrance to the Cafe. "It ain't Villain's Night, pal. You lot have a place of your own. Off you go."

"I'm not a villain," came the quiet reply.

"Right," the Bouncer shook his head. "Look, Episode One has reached Subreality, too. I know that face."

A sigh trickled from the depths of darkness. "It isn't a face to ignore. That's why I wear it now. She isn't likely to be able to turn her back on me now. Part of me blames that movie, but part of me thanks it. My Writer is a stubborn one."

"Aren't they all?" The Bouncer was ruthlessly unsympathetic.

"Every Writer shows a stubbornness," the cloaked one replied. "I do not begrudge any Writer, not even my own, that artistic trait. My Writer, however, excels at it. She was born this way. Calliope sent me after her early on -- the third grade, to be exact."

"How old is your Writer now?"

The Muse shook her cloaked head. "I would never go so far as to give you the actual number. But I'm sure you can figure it out for yourself. Here's a hint: 1972."

The Bouncer smirked. "You're probably going to get into trouble for that."

The Muse laughed and drew back her hood to reveal a red and black painted face, vibrant red-orange eyes and a menacing crown of horns. "Trouble? With my Writer? Don't make me laugh. This has gone on for decades. It will continue. Our relationship is a never-ending battle."

"Are you here to continue it?"

The Muse gestured to the ground where a few spots of fresh blood led around the back of the Cafe. "My latest triumph. After a year she continued that story." The Muse then lifted her hand towards one of the large windows of the Cafe. Four characters, a Gambit, a Rogue, a Polaris, and a Magneto, could be seen through it perusing menus in one of the booths. All looked as though they had been enjoying the sun recently. "A year." She turned her unsettling gaze back to the Bartender.

"A year's a long time," he offered, somewhat entertained by the venom on the Muse's voice. It was usually his experience that Writers and Muses got along fairly well. This was the first time in his experience where the Muse and Writer appeared to actively hate one another. He looked back into the Cafe at the four fictives talking and smiling at one another. "They seem to be pretty happy fictives. I'd have thought your influence might have turned your Writer down a darker path."

"She gets her fights out with me," the Muse shrugged. "I consider it a service."

"I get the feeling you like the way things are between you and your Writer." The Bouncer folded his arms over his chest. "If you didn't you wouldn't still be hanging around."

"Mm..." The Muse was looking off into the shadows thoughtfully. "I'm a Muse for the situation. If my Writer wasn't the way she was I'd probably have butterfly wings and shed glitter."

"Instead you look like that."

"I haven't always," the Muse replied, turning her unsettling gaze back to the Bouncer. "The avatar that I battle and I have changed our appearances countless times. It's merely the battle that remains the same. We have been cavewomen pounding each other with clubs, the two brawling Girl Scouts from the bar scene in Airplane! We have dueled along the precipice of cliffs, gone over waterfalls with our hands around each others throats. We have been Musketeers, cavalry officers, charioteers and thumb-wrestlers. The battles either end in my tearing a new piece from her or her silencing me until I free myself and the battle begins anew."

The Bouncer shakes his head. "Well, it may work for you two but I'm not letting you into the Cafe. We get enough damage in there, I'm not letting a sure fight inside. Getting insurance is hard enough."

"Understood." The Muse moved away, facing the darkness around the Café again. "She comes." She glanced at the Bouncer and waved him away. "Be warned, ever since I threatened to steal her Obi-Wan action figure things between us have been uglier than usual."

The Bouncer didn't reply as a new figure emerged from the shadows.

She was a young woman dressed in sand-colored leggings and a matching belted tunic that was currently bloodstained in the area of the rib cage. She frowned at the Muse. "Darth Muse."

"Yes, Dande-Wan Kenobi," Darth Muse replied, shrugging off her black cloak. "You've gotten sloppy. Your trail was painfully easy to follow."

"Only because you were supposed to find me."

Darth Muse held her arm out and a twin-bladed saber lit up in red. "I will get another story from you. Why delay the inevitable? Make things easy and hand it over."

Dande-Wan reciprocated with her own bright blue blade. "I don't do easy."

"No, you do not." Darth Muse spun her saber. "And glad I am of it. If there is one thing I truly despise it is being conciliatory."

Dande-Wan leapt at her Muse, blade flashing. And the battle raged on.

Subreality Cafe belongs to Kielle.
The Month of Muses, for which this was written, was dreamt up by Farli.
The Bouncer belongs to Falstaff.
The Gambit, Rogue, Polaris and Magneto belong to me and are from A Companion Picture.

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