1
	A young woman walks through the door. Without bothering to open 
it first.  Ghostlike, she walks through the Pub, not seeming to notice 
those around her. She walks directly towards one of the side walls. With 
each step she takes, her form becomes a bit more distinct, until at last 
she collides solidly with the wall. 
	This seems to take her by surprise. She raises her hands and 
shoves experimentally at the wall a few times. "Chappell?" she calls. 
"Jay? Anyone?"
	She turns. She is young, perhaps eighteen years old. Her hair is 
just above shoulder length, brown and curly. Her eyes are blue and large 
behind wire-rimmed glasses. She wears black jeans and a black shirt with 
a picture of a woman throwing her arms wide to the moon and the caption 
'Luna.' A miniature backpack covered with runes is slung like a purse 
over her shoulder. A snake-headed cane is in her hand.
	She looks around the room, noticing eyes on her. "You can see 
me?" she asks nervously? "What is this place?"
	She turns and glares at the wall. "Okay, Chappell, where am I 
this time?"

2
	A red-haired man and a bandaged man are having a conversation. 
The redhead says,  "Once they're discovered, they aren't very useful to 
the demon. Demons don't tend to reward failure. At that point, basically, 
they're well and truly screwed."
	"Granted, but how many Infernys actually think about that when 
they first sign the pact? I bet most are to blind by greed, lust for 
power, or their own arrogance. They may fear death later on, after a 
while and it fully dawns on them how deep they're in it, but not when 
they first sign up."
	"Yes... still it's amazing, but some of them _do_ think about it 
first. The here and now has so much more appeal than the future."
	The bandaged man shrugs. "Then they were well aware of the 
consquences, death included, and it didn't sway them. They choose their 
fate willingly and knowingly. Not wisely, but it's hard to feel sorry for 
them."
	The young woman who just collided with the wall scans the room, 
apparently 
looking for someone of reasonable normality. Her eyes light upon the 
bandaged man. 
	The red-haired man smiles. "Infernies. It conjures up all sorts 
of odd pictures."
	The bandaged man thinks. "I wouldn't know, I have seen any. At 
least, not that I know of." He smiles.
	She quietly slips up beside him. "Hello, sir? I seem to have 
found my way here
rather by accident... can you tell me where I am?"
	He jumps a bit, startled. "Huh? Oh, sorry. I've been a tad 
nervous lately. You are in Wolves Glen Pub, caterer to the supernatural. 
Most people do find their way here by accident, myself included." He smiles.
	Her eyebrows shoot up. "Wolves Glen Pub?" She takes a moment to 
be sure that he's not lying, and then begins laughing. Attempting to 
control herself, she continues, "So I -am- still in the Dream Realm! I 
didn't know we had any posters in New York..." She scans the room 
eagerly. "Who's here? William? Yelyana? Jess? Erehwon?" A happy grin 
settles on her face. "It doesn't look like I'd expected. But then, I 
didn't -expect- to end up here..."
	"Well, we have two Williams at the moment, and Jess is 
honeymooning - Padriac tends bar now - but I don't know about the rest... 
Oh, and don't bother with the "sir", it makes me feel like I'm supposed 
to be responsible or something. Call me Plots." He shakes her hand 
warmly. "Oh, also excuse my current appearence, but I haven't had a 
chance to get cleaned up." He indicates his bandages. "I'm just waiting 
for a blood transfusion from the doctor. And your name?"
	She smiles. "I'm Gegi. And the rest of it, you wouldn't believe 
if I told you."

3
	An innocent blue-eyed blonde laughs lightheartedly up at the 
tall, pale, elegantly dressed stranger beside her. "Packs of werewolves 
and Sabbat!  I'm sure I haven't come that far! It's odd, though," she 
adds, more seriously, but still with that child-like look in her eyes, 
"when I was a little girl, my father used to tell me these stories about 
vampires, especially this certain, um," she pauses, searching for the 
right word, "'club' of awful savages called the Sabbat.  When I was bad 
he would always say, 'Be a good girl, now Chloe, or the Sabbat will be 
looking for you tonight!'  I always thought he had just made them, the 
Sabbat, up.  I never knew other people talked about them.."
	The girl who has just collided with the wall jumps at the 
overheard words and turns to the conversation. "Your father must have 
been an odd man... most people just say 'the witches'.  Even knowing the 
word 'Sabbat' could probably get you hunted as a witch where I come 
from..." The girl claps a hand over her mouth. "I interrupted,  I'm sorry."
	"That's all right..." the girl continues, still talking to the 
man. A pleasant smile of reminiscence remains on her innocent, angelic 
face, "He always was telling me these fabulous stories of vampires and 
their secret world and rituals, diablasomething, and inter-club wars."
	"El diable? Was he a writer or a gamer?"
	Chloe looks at her, wanting to answer her questions, but with so 
many of her own.  "My father was not a witch or a writer or a gamer.  
Well, actually, what it is a gamer?"
	"Gaming. Role-playing. You know." She shrugs uncomfortably. "It's 
kinda hard to explain, especially since people get all kinds of wrong 
ideas... I'm an -actress-, it doesn't mean I'm -possessed-, but the 
bible-thumpers get all nasty about it."
	"He traveled a lot and worked late often. I don't know what he 
did, come to think of it.  It seems
so long ago.  I guess 10 years is a long time. El diable?  I don't think 
that was quite it.  Maybe, though.  It made the vampires strong.  I 
think.  Blood made them strong, but especially vampire blood, perhaps?  
It was a long time ago."  Chloe shudders and glances quickly to the door.
	She stares distractedly past Chloe, mumbling to herself. 
"Diablerie? I thought White Wolf made that term up... and it certainly 
wasn't ten years ago." She looks back at Chloe. "You -sure- your father 
wasn't a writer? Kept a lot of old, crumbly books in a back study that he 
didn't want you messing with?
Had crystals and black silk and stuff? Maybe wore jewelry with some 
strange symbols?" She gestures to the necklace she's wearing, which has a 
strange design on it.
	Chloe looks at her with wide eyes. "My father had a vast library, 
yes, but I certainly wasn't forbidden there. He did all he could to 
encourage  me to read all that he had.  But I was a little girl more 
interested in dollhouses and princess stories than thick leather-bound 
books with no pictures about war and violence.  I had to leave home when 
I was almost ten, for school in London.  When I was older, I dreamt about 
going back and spending hours with him in that library, sharing his 
world.  But then there was the fire and the disappearance..." she seems 
to look past, no through, rather, her companion as her voice drifts off.
	Snapping back to reality, "My father knew a lot about a lot of 
things. Maybe too much, and certainly more than I ever shall.  But he was 
no witch or occultist!" Her voice is almost angry, defensive.  
	The other girl holds out a hand, a feeling of calmness spreading 
from her. "There's nothing wrong with being an occultist... 'occult' just 
means knowledge known only to a few, after all. Your father -" she takes 
a breath. "Your father, assumably, was involved with a group of very 
powerful people. That doesn't mean he was evil. Just, like you said, he 
knew a lot."
	Chloe nods, looking embarassed. "I didn't mean to snap like 
that.  My father was involved with the rulers of my city, yes, and they 
weren't evil people, either."  She tucks a loose strand of hair behind 
her ear, looking alternately at the floor and to the other girl's face.  
"You seem to know a lot too..."
	She smiles. "I'm a psychic. That's my job."
	"I mean, I've practically told you my whole life, and I don't 
even know your name."
	She nods. "Sorry. I'm Gegi. I'm not from around here, so to speak..."

4
	As Gegi continues to laugh over her discovery of her location, 
the dark-haired pointy-ears-and-glasses girl wanders through the Pub. 
Suddenly, Gegi notices her.
	"Gabrielle?"
	The Nocker turns. Her pale face freezes.
	Gegi smiles delightedly. "Gabby! I never knew you played... did 
you just start in college? Is this -your- dream then?" She rushes over, 
hand outstretched.
	Gabby raises a hand and slaps the other girl across the face, 
hard. Gegi steps back, too startled to tear up.
	Gabby's voice shakes. "How -dare- you ask about my dreams, after 
you tried to take them away from me? Get the hell away from me, before I 
-" She stops. A bitter smile spreads across her features. Her voice 
steadies. "They threw you out. You have -nothing-." She laughs. "I can 
almost pity you." She walks away and doesn't look back.
	Gegi stands dumfoundedly staring after the other girl. "Is that 
what I am, in your fantasies? An enemy?" she mumbles to herself. "You 
always said it was my fault, but I really don't -remember- doing that to 
you... and I thought you'd forgiven me."

5
	Somewhere, a man with long dark hair is laughing. His eyes are 
green, and his face shows a mix of French, Spanish, and Native American 
blood. He wears heavy workboots, black jeans, a t-shirt, and a long black 
trenchcoat with the greek letter "omega" on the back. An antique .38 
revolver peeks out of a hip holster. The woman beside him is very tall 
and thin, with waist-length brown hair. She wears a black t-shirt and 
black jeans, and a pair of jade earrings hide in her hair. The man 
speaks. "Of course.  I'm a mage, remember?  We're always right, and when 
we're wrong, we change the answer keys," he says to his companion with a 
smile.
	Gegi overhears... "Mage? Nifty. I never -did- get those books. 
Don't suppose I could weasel magic lectures out of you?"
	He turns to her and raises an eyebrow. "That entirely depends on 
what you want the information for."
	She grins. "Pure curiousity. It's not often I get - well, I don't 
think this chance will come again."
	He inclines his head to her. "Garret Corven, bani Euthanatos, at 
your service. And you are?"
	"I'm Gegi. Sometimes psychic, always wandering through 
experiences that no one would ever believe... right now, I'm on a quest 
to save the universe, but I seem to have wandered through the wrong gate. 
So until the Chappell-unit figures out where I am and comes back for me..."
	"Chappell-unit?  Sonds like something the virtual adepts might use."
	"I don't know -what- he is, besides something supernatural. The 
guys said that he's the last of the faeries, and that he can't walk on 
holy ground, and that he has lots of magic and psi powers... they call 
him the Chappell unit because he looks like this guy whose last name is 
Chappell. But he isn't him, at least I don't think so, because the real 
Chappell is supposedly in California doing experiments in time travel... 
so, of course, in a twisted causality, he could still be him." She shakes 
her head. "The others are better at that than me... I haven't had very 
long to get used to it. Anyway, they call him the Chappell-unit, or 
Elfboy, or Martin, or Fabio, or a lot of other things. They haven't quite 
told me why
yet. It's been a pretty crazy week."
 	She glares speculatively at the wall with which she collided. 
"And they had  -better- not forget me. But after all the trouble we went 
through rescuing Jon from the demons, I'm sure they wouldn't leave me 
here..." She turns back to him with a smile. "Sorry. Wrong plane."
	"Of course.  We get lots of multi-dimensional visitors here."
	She grins. "I know. I remember when - " and cuts herself off quickly.
	He looks at her curiously, but goes on. "This place plays host to 
all sorts of strange things. Prepare to be amazed."
	"Oh, I do hope so." She looks around. "I don't know how much time 
I'll have, I don't want to waste it."
	He looks at her with unconcealed amusement. "Time before your 
friends pick you up, you mean?"
	"That, or before I wake up on the plane to New York and discover 
that this was all a dream. But I really hope that isn't so."
	He nods. "So, what else would you like to know?"
	She smiles. "Everything!"
	Thus began a long, technical discourse on the nature of Mages...

6
	"Of course. We get lots of multi-dimensional visitors here," 
Garret says. 
	Gegi grins. "I know. I remember when - " and cuts herself off quickly.
	"Ah, so you -have- been here before," Plots says with a smile. 
"Thanks for answering that."
	Gegi shakes her head. "Well, no, I haven't exactly been here 
before. Not in person, so to speak."
	He nods. "You realise, of course, that I have no idea what you're 
talking about." 
	"I told you, you wouldn't believe me."
	"Try me. I've come to believe a lot of things lately."
	"Yes, but believing my story might be fatal."
	Here Plots actually laughs, a full and rich sound. "I'm sorry," 
he snickers, "But *not* believeing what people told me *was* fatal. I got 
better though." A wry grin. "Honestly, try me. Unless you don't want to 
talk about it, which I understand."
	She sighs. "I really shouldn't do this. Just assume that I'm insane."
	"This place is a -story-. We wrote it. We made it up, on my side. 
That doesn't mean it isn't real... but we created it. I've been here, and 
at the Cafe, as so many other people, as Synthea, Carmina, Elyana, Lady 
Helen, Geoffrey of Lancaster, Rick, Wolfie, Tink, Emily, Christine, 
Vivian, Bait, Ice, Dragon..." She trails off, counting on her fingers. "I 
overdid it for a while there."
	"All of this:" she gestures around "is our imagination. And I'm 
from the other
side." 
	Plots listens with a smile. "Okay, fair enough. Now for you to 
think I'm insane: I can beleive you. I'm not saying I do, mind you, but I 
can see the possiblilty. I heard once about a book in which the author 
stated that every time we write a story, we bring that world into 
exsistence."
	She nods. "Anything that can be imagined, is.... somewhere."
	"So right now, there could be dozens of worlds I've created 
through my writing and imagination." He stops, and looks worried. "Of 
course, I don't think I'd like to visit there anytime soon, as some of my 
charaters--the people--would be rather peeved at me for some of the plot 
twists I've done to them." 
	She smiles and looks around. "I don't -think- anyone's here who 
would consider me an enemy..."
	He shrugs. "But hey, I've always beleived in storytelling. It's 
what I do." He shifts his weight and settles down into a chair. "So if 
you're from the other side, what're you doing here? Not exactly the 
vacation spot of choice, you know?"
	"You want the whole story, or the short version? As for how I got 
-here-,  precisely... well, we were chasing a demon, and had to follow it 
into a demi-plane sort of thing, out of phase with my old reality, and we 
spent some time there... and then Chappell set a gate out, but I must 
have missed it, or
skewed it when I walked through, or something, and ended up here instead 
of wherever they were."
	Plots looks a little sad as she explains about the demon chasing 
and the world tripping. "So, I guess you probably aren't a sleeper then." 
He sighs.
	"My beliefs shouldn't conflict with the magery, anyway... I 
wonder if you could make a Tradition out of my kind of stuff? Need more 
data..."
	"I'm not sure what they would classify you as, but if you not 
only can chase demons around, but do so willingly than you're outta my 
league." He motions towards Stryder and the other members of the pub. 
"They can help you out better than me." He shrugs again. "I take up space 
here, and attract danger to those within. That's about the extent of my 
resume." He states this last part somewhat angrily.
	She holds up her hands. "It's not quite like that. I'm not the 
one with the  power. Except for the minor telepathic extras, which Jay's 
better at anyway, I'm just excess baggage."
	She turns towards the bar with a smile. "Story time... as much of 
it as I dare tell, anyway."
	"You see, when I got to college, I made friends with a bunch of 
goths. Vampire wannabes, like me. And we hung out and did some weird 
occult stuff and the like, nothing serious. Anyway, one of the girls, 
Nancy, said that there was some vampire lord coming to New York, and we 
should all go there to meet him. And I'd been wanting to go for a while 
anyway... been waiting to see Rent." She smiles. 
	"So we planned a trip up there, all thirteen of us, but because 
of my class schedule, I had to take a later flight, and they were 
supposed to meet me at the airport. But when I got there, no one was 
there. Stuck alone in NYC with not much money, no hotel, and no one to call."
	"That's when Jay found me." She blushes. "And he offered to let 
me stay with him and his friends until we could find where I was supposed 
to be. And -his- friends were tailing this bat-man like serial killer, 
and my friends had talked about the vampire lord being at the Batcave, so 
I figured the two were
related, and managed to get myself kidnapped by a cult. My friends turned 
out to be into some -really- weird stuff... demon summoning and all. And 
I had to play along with them for awhile before I could escape..."
	"Anyway, I missed my flight back when I was being held by the 
cult, and all of this was a lot better than my life had been, so I stuck 
around... and we found the bat-thing, which turned out to be a demon, and 
we fought it, and then we had to follow it into the other plane to rescue 
one of our party... and so on."
	She shrugs. "I'm a projecting empath. Beyond that, I'm just a 
normal that has lots of weird stuff happen to her. I was lucky."

7
	The attractive Asian woman in the grubby jumpsuit approaches 
Gegi. "Please excuse me, but I believe we met before in Rick's Cafe 
Americain, across the road. This is the Wolves Glen Pub, a similar place, 
but without the no-violence restriction. My name is Hitiko, and I believe 
you called yourself Synthea, and said something of having various 
supernatural talents."
	"Hitiko!" She smiles, and bows, then smacks herself on the head. 
"Wait, I'm sorry, I should explain... I'm not Synthea. I just look like 
her. I'm Gegi. As for the supernatural talents," she grins, "I certainly 
hope so."
	Hitiko looks puzzled.
	"If you are not Synthea, I am unclear how you recognised me." 
	"Well, I've never seen you myself, but I've heard of you. So to 
speak. Pleased to meet you."
	"So you are not the person responsible for ICME, and these very 
nice chocolates?" And she holds out a bag of chocolates to Gegi.
	"Interesting candies. I'm vaguely allergic myself, I have to be 
careful with
chocolate... What's ICME?"
	"I think it is supposed to be I.C.M.E, like ACME so someone said, 
a purveyer of strange resources, I think someone else said. Synthea is 
supposed to be running it while drifting between realities, assisted by 
Gabby, a Nocker I believe, some Sons of Ether, I think, and a number of 
other people."
	"With Gabby, huh?" She glares suspiciously at the Nocker. "What 
did she do, steal my characters? She -couldn't- have... I never told her 
about them...
	"Does this mean you will not be able to tell me whether there is 
any progress on the various items I requested?", and Gegi could swear she 
is hiding a smile, and possibly suspects Synthea of wanting to remain 
incognito for some reason.
	She searches for appropriate wording. "I haven't seen Syn in a 
good while. So to speak."

8
	Plots is talking to a tall older man. "Those are the kind they 
like best, because they know they can always get a rise out of them." He 
shifts uncomfortalbly. "I remember too well from my own playground days."
	 "You were easily riled, were you Plots?" the older man says.
	"Yeah, and I went through it all the way. Tried to hit them, got 
in trouble. Then on the way home from detention, the bullies jumped me." 
He shrugs. "It was a pretty regular occurence. I guess every school needs 
its whipping boy. I filled that slot. Fortunately, I've grown wiser since 
then At least I like to think so."
	Gegi shudders. "I went to an all-girls school... physical 
confrontations weren't usually the problem. Especially since I didn't 
fight by the rules. I may be a clumsy nerd with glasses, but I'm tougher 
than I look... No, they just teased. Ran around screaming about 
Georgina-germs. Threatened me. They knew it was easy to make me cry... or 
to get me mad enough to chase after someone, who would then
manage to run by a teacher and make it look like I was picking fights..." 
Her eyes fall on Gabby, who continues to ignore her. "Eventually I got a  
reputation for being psychotic, and they got scared, and left me alone." 
She shrugs. "Kids."
	"Well, I can't say that psychotic worked for me, mainly because I 
was that way throughout all 12 grade levels. Fortunately, the junior and 
senior year I found the art and theatre crowd. That helped." He smiles. 
	"Yeah, well, I call myself an artist, but I get so incredibly 
frustrated with my work that no one wants to be around while I'm doing 
it. As for the theatre geeks," she shrugs, "I didn't do theatre outside 
of school, so I was second rate and doomed to stay that way. I think it's 
just because my school was so 
small. It was hard to find places. I got my groups from the trekkies and 
the gamers, and the goths..."
	"I've been called weird, but that's about the extent of it."
	"What, no witch hunts?" she asks. "You missed out."

9
	She shrugs. "I'm a projecting empath. Beyond that, I'm just a 
normal that has lots of weird stuff happen to her. I was lucky."
	"I can empathize with the weird stuff happening to a normal, but 
that's as far as I go. No telepathic powers, no extras, just me. You 
chase demons," Plots says. "That puts you way ahead of me."
	"Well, if a demon popped up in front of you and started clawing, 
you'd fight too."
	"Actually, from what I've seen, I'd run away, terrified, or pass 
out, or something equally useful," he says with a sigh.
	"It's all a matter of channeling energy - transfer the fear into 
anger and you'll have all the backup you need. Emotion is a very powerful 
thing."
	"Oh, I'll agree with that. But my emotions aren't usually 
negative. The strong ones, anyway." he says.
	"What do you mean by negative? Anyway, any powerful emotion can 
be used... love is a great healer."
	"Negative would be fear, hatred, and things that tug on the dark 
side of a person."
	"And fear can help fuel a shield, but so can a commitment to 
peace, and that's not a dark emotion..."
	He shrugs. "I bet love is a great healer, but not useful as an 
offensive power. Anger might be better, but I don't get angry very often."
	"If you don't get angry, why are you looking for an offensive 
power?" 
	He smiles and shrugs again. "If I have any powers, they have yet 
to show up, and I've been through enough. Maybe not as much as some 
people here, but a lot. But to be honest, that's fine by me. The longer 
I'm normal, the better."
	"Why would anyone want to be normal?"  
	Plots looks around the pub. "Why would I want to be normal..." he 
repeats to himself. "Maybe because I always used to think that I'd be so 
cool to have superpowers. To be superstrong, turn invisible, and so on. 
But now I've learned that there comes a hefty price for those powers. As 
long as I remain normal, I can still manage to stay completely out of 
their world." He motions to the rest of the patrons.
	She shakes her head. "I don't care about the cost... I wouldn't 
want to live as a mute. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe I'll burn out or get 
eaten by demons or something, but it's better than being -nothing-. There 
was a Thomas Hardy poem like that, I think -I'd rather be targeted 
personally by evil than squashed without notice. I want to matter."
	"True, but I am a 'mute' in this case. So what good would it do 
me to run out into some wild fight, way beyond my capabilities, to get 
killed? I can't remember who first said it, but: "Not all of us can be 
heros. Someone has to stand and clap as they go by". Besides, in this 
position, I have even a more personal choice. If I go out into some 
battle, it's strictly my choice. No burden of responsibility from power 
can push me in. That's kind of nice. Gives you more freedom, even if it 
does shorten your life span."
	"There are always smaller battles." She sighs. "I wanted to be a 
counselor once, but now I find it hard enough to handle succeeding for 
the wrong reasons... but everyone's responsible, and expected to give 
what they can, according to some beliefs."
	Plots is quiet for a moment. "I agree with that, and that's why I 
think I'll be better off "normal". I was responsibile for warning my 
friends in here when those HitMarks walked in. Did I? No. I just ran. 
Fear completely took me over, and I failed to warn them. Maybe then 
Garret wouldn't have almost died."
He sighs, then says angrily, "I mean, I didn't even see them! All I had 
to do was say something like, 'Oh, by the way guys, some HitMarks are 
heading in'. Instead I ran and hid. If I couldn't even say anything, how 
can I *do* anything?"
	She reaches out and touches his arm, trying to project comforting emotions.
	Plots looks at the back door, shaking his head. Slowly, his anger 
ebbs away.
	She looks him in the eye. "What happened happened, and although I 
wouldn't wish a repeat occurence on you, you can't know that you would 
behave the same way next time... I used to have 
dreams where I would try and try and not be able to scream or run, and 
then suddenly I got control over my dreams." She smiles. "Not exactly the 
same thing, I know, but you -can- do things." A pause. "Anyway, you're 
important to someone, or you wouldn't be here."
	"Oh, and yes, I have a hunch that I'm important somehow, but as a 
person or tool, I don't know. If it's as a tool, who's to say I need to 
be alive, or willing, or anything else like that?" He shakes his head. "I 
got some answers to old questions, and now they've given me new questions."
	"Everyone's a tool of everyone else... maybe. Whether they are or 
aren't doesn't really matter. It's one of those irrelevant concepts... 
whether or not its true makes no difference in one's actions. Like 
predestination. It doesn't matter."
	"Depends how much weight you put into predestination. I prefer 
the thought that we have certain paths we're *likely* to go down, but the 
choice is still largely ours. We might stray from what "fate" intended, 
but still have a chance to find it again later on."
	"Yes, but what' I was saying is that it doesn't matter whether 
you're predestined or not... you still do what you're doing." She shakes 
her head. "I don't know how to put it."

10
	Garret and Gegi discuss the nature of magic, and of magick. "Why 
do we stick the k on the end, anyway?" she asks. 
	"To differentiate the act of altering reality from what stage 
magicians do.  there's a difference between really pulling a live rabbit 
out of a hat and only looking like you did."
	"I tended to frustrate people who tried to watch stage magic with 
me... I knew enough to catch them when they slipped. I give away too many 
secrets." She shrugs. "I suppose it's weird for someone who believes as I 
do to go around messing up other people's suspension of disbelief.... but 
I didn't want lies." 
	"I tend to think there's a difference between consensual illusion 
and a lie."
	She nods. "And I'm careful about my illusions." She stands silent 
for a moment, then shakes her head. "We -lied- to that woman. We saved 
her life, but we lied to her. I hate that."
	He raises an eyebrow.  "Sometimes, regrettably, holding on to 
some of your principles requires sacrificing others.  In what way did you 
lie to her?"
	"It was on the list. We had to provide a ray of hope. There was a 
woman. Her family had been killed in a car crash. She was planning to 
kill herself tonight.We found her sitting alone in a dark house with the 
power and water and everything cut off, trapped inside herself. Chappell 
told us to save her."
	"We were in the realm of the mind, you see. Where dreams are 
real. There was a cloud all around her head. The guys went after the 
cloud with weapons, trying to make it go away and let rays of light 
through. Stupid. I was the one who searched the house and found out what 
had happened." She sighs. "Then Jon pretended to be the voice of her son. 
And we talked to her. And it took forever. And I had to be her daughter, 
and Charlie her husband, and we went on and on telling her that we loved 
her, that it wasn't her fault, that she should live for us. And 
eventually we convinced her to go on." She shakes her head. "We -lied- to 
her! We took her memories and we twisted them and we used them to 
manipulate her. It was all a lie. We told her she was needed, that she 
had a reason to go on, but we were just making it all up." By this point, 
she's obviously fighting tears. "We lied, and she lived. And I don't want 
to be lied to! Everything I believe in and hold on to and keeps me going, 
I don't want to find out that it was all lies."
	He looks at her uncertainly, then reaches out and takes hold of 
her hand and squeezes it.  "I can see how what you did would upset you.  
I've thought about the issue for a long time, and I'm still not sure 
about what is real, or wether it even matters.  But I *think* that not 
all lies are bad.  Ascention may be a lie, but even if I knew that, it 
wouldn't stop me from searching for it.  Each of us has to make a 
descision about what truth is.  Ultimately, you forge your own."
	She sighs. "Sometimes I find myself choosing not to ask questions 
because I'm too afraid of the answers. Easier not to know than to know 
that things aren't as I'd want them to be. Easier not to try than to deal 
with my failure. I want to help, I want to make things better... and this 
the first time that I've made
a truly direct impact on someone's life, and I hate it. It's all a bit 
frustrating."
	He gives her a crooked smile.  "We *all* feel like that 
sometimes.  We try to do what we think is right, and events seem to twist 
it until it comes out as something completely different from what we 
intended.  But even that's better than not being able to do anything at all."
	"And that's exactly what I'm afraid of. Not being able to do 
anything." she says.
	He grimaces.  "I get afraid of the answers, too.  Sometimes I 
throw up my hands, feeling like none of the things I bleed and suffer for 
are really worth anything.  But what's the option?  Do nothing?  Stay 
ignorant?  I couldn't if I wanted to, and neither, I think, could you.  
That's why my sense of duty, of responsibility, is so important to me.  
Despite my mistakes and failures, I don't feel like I have the *right* to 
give up, to stop caring."  
	"If I stopped caring, I wouldn't be me anymore... it would be 
someone else, someone who would be thankful to be free of the dreams..."
	He looks intently at her.  "Could you really go back to being 
"normal", knowing what's out there?"
	"Was I ever normal, and am I less so now?"

11
	Gegi stares distractedly past Chloe. "Diablerie? I thought White 
Wolf made that term up... and it certainly wan't ten years ago."
	A red-haired man in leather grins dangerously at her. "White Wolf 
Games? Would that be the Storyteller rules? You might want to be a little 
careful, they seem to have quite a lot to do with how reality works 
around here."
	"Most of the time, anyway, with a few modifications," she adds 
absently, then jumps and looks at him again, her hand flying up to cross 
herself. "Shit! How do you - " she pauses. "Chappell? Is that you?"
	He chuckles. "People rarely cross themselves," he makes the 
gesture, "when they meet me."
	"Sorry.. I thought you might be a demon. I've had problems with them."	
	He nods and continues. "Shall we say I am well travelled, and 
this is far from the only world that seems to correspond to written 
rules... of the same general class as I mentioned. And, no, 'Chappell' is 
not a name I have ever gone under, 'Bavin' is the one I most commonly use."
	Gegi nods warily. "Greetings, Bavin."
	"If you wish, though, I could provide you with a copy of the 
rulebooks for Vampire and Werewolf. They might cause some interesting 
reactions."
	"There are rules for vampires?" Chloe asks innocently. "I don't 
want to upset anyone, but I would very much like to see one..."
	Bavin grins over at her. "I am afraid you will have to ask Gegi 
here. It is really up to her..."
	"What, you're not allowed to tell her?" Gegi asks. 
	"Some things must be said by the proper people." Bavin eyes 
Gegi's necklace. "I don't recognize that one. I could track it down with 
a little research..."
	Gegi looks down at the necklace. Her eyes widen. She grabs at it, 
then relaxes and looks away, distracted and confused.

12
	Garret is speaking to a teenage gothgirl. "Pentex *wishes* it 
could be as bad-ass as a demon.  Fear is a very healthy emotion where 
they're concerned, although in my experience, it's their human cults and 
corrupted servitors that you really have to watch out for.  Unbelief 
keeps the worst demons from setting foot on earth, so that's how they do 
most of their work."
	"The cult wasn't that bad..." Gegi begins. Her hand absently 
rises to touch her necklace, and her eyes go blank.
	He turns to her.  "If the cult you dealt with wasn't so bad, then 
they were either very small, very new, or not demon worshippers."
	Her eyes remain slightly unfocused, and her speech slower than 
usual. "I wasn't there very long, you see, and I'm sure I wasn't the only 
one who hadn't known what was really going on. It was only a game..."
	He raises an eyebrow.  "You were playing games with demons?"
	"My friends. Turned out to be a cult. And I was the thirteenth. 
But it was nothing, really..."
	Plots eyes widen. "You were part of a cult?" He asks bluntly.
	She fingers the necklace absently. "I told you, my friends turned 
out to be into some really strange stuff... and I had to play along until 
I had a chance to get away. I was just trying to find things out about 
the killer... just trying to be useful."

13
	Garret and Gegi discuss the nature of magic, the Avatar, and the 
divine spark within that, once contacted, allows a mage to alter reality.
	"The moment of touching your inner self is called Awakening, and 
there are all sorts of ways of doing it.  Some people just never go to 
sleep, but for most people, it takes a severe shock, one that tears their 
illusory world to shreds and forces them to dump all their 
preconceptions." He cocks his head. "I had to die, if that gives you an 
idea of the level of intensity that's required."
	"But you got better?"
	"In a manner of speaking." he replies dryly.  "I was grateful 
that the hallucinations and fits finally stopped, anyway.  I was not 
exactly stable afterwards."
	She manages a half-smile. "I haven't been stable in a long time." 
She looks up with wistful eyes. "I don't suppose you could... check me?"
	He looks intentely at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his 
mouth. "Sorry, it's just that you make it sound like...pulling out a 
dipstick and checking someone's oil.  Yes, I can touch your avatar and 
figure out  if it's sleeping or awake.  Although if it were awake, I 
don't think  you'd need to ask."
	"I'm not from your world... I don't know if the rules even match 
up. It might be meaningless. I'm -something-, anyway. But I don't know if 
I'm that, by your rules."
	"Then it becomes an interesting challenge."
	"And aren't interesting times a curse?" She smiles. "Although one 
I willingly inflicted upon myself."
	"Most curses are self-inflicted..." He closes his eyes and begins 
to sway slightly, chanting something melodious and rythmic under his 
voice.  Opening his eyes, he seems to look right *through* her. 
"Fascinating..." he says dreamily.  "I don't think you are 'awake' in the 
sense in which we use the word, although your soul turns restlessly. You 
are definetely not from this reality, or any other that I am familiar with."
	She chuckles. "Restless soul. Sounds about right."

14
	Gegi shakes her head. "We -lied- to her! We took her memories and 
we twisted them and we used them to manipulate her. It was all a lie. We 
told her she was needed, that she had a reason to go on, but we were just 
making it all up."
	Plots blinks. "You didn't lie to her, unless her family really 
didn't love her, which I highly doubt. She sure wasn't responsiblie for 
the car crash, which you told her. And wasn't she needed? You may have 
thought you were making that stuff up, but trust me, it's true. There's 
always a reason to go on."
	"We pretended to be the people she loved and we used that love to manipulate
her. It isn't right." By this point, she's obviously fighting tears. "We 
lied, and she lived. And I don't want to be lied to! Everything I believe 
in and hold on to and keeps me going, I don't want to find out that it 
was all lies." 
	Plots hesistates, then steps forwards and touches her arm, trying 
to comfort her. "Gegi, don't let yourself be boxed in like this. Finding 
out things you thought--hoped were true are actually false is part of 
life. I know it better than anyone. My entire world and beliefs were 
shattered in the span of about two days, not even. But you don't see me 
giving up." He thinks for a moment. "Some things are always true, anyway. 
Take stock in that. I still have the same ideas about life and death 
before I came here, they're only expanded or updated. Even if you find 
out everything you ever knew was wrong, that's no reason to get 
depressed. I mean, you can only go up from there."
	"I just don't know if it's worth it. If I can't - if I'm not - if 
no one can... oh, why can't things just be right?"
	
15
	Gegi chuckles. "Restless soul. Sounds about right."
	"There's something else." Garret says suddenly, and from the tone 
of his voice, it's *not* good. He frowns, hooks the fingers of his left 
hand into claws, and makes an raking motion in front of her face.  His 
eyes narrow.  A look of surprise shows on his face, and is quickly 
replaced by a grim expression.  He spits out something that sounds like a 
curse in spanish. "All right, we have an official problem.  I need you 
not to panic, all right?  It's important that you don't get unduly 
alarmed.  There seems to be an entity in residence inside you, and from 
what I can see, it's almost certainly infernal in origin.  Before you 
panic, it's dormant right now, and not a threat."
	Her eyes widen. She takes a step backwards, hands flying to her 
head. She flinches. Then, slowly, her posture relaxes and her eyes open. 
She chuckles quietly to herself as she raises her hands...