This is not a normal story. That's a warning, not a cliched 
enticement. You may have once read a choose-your-path sort of interactive 
story. This is not like that. The story can go several ways to reach the 
same points, but it isn't a matter of this-way-or-that-way. It's all of 
those ways. They all happened. And if you don't see them all, you'll miss 
the story. 
	It takes an unusual place for so many things to happen at once. 
Where, then, is this story set? Imagine a restaurant somewhere in America 
with an attempt at a European pub atmosphere. There are fifteen tables 
and a dance floor. There are many doors, one which probably leads to a 
cellar, another marked Laundry. There are even a few trap doors in the 
ceiling. The world outside of the windows is always in twilight. On the 
walls by the door are a pair of dartboards, one electronic and one 
traditional. Further back are a foosball table and a pool table. An 
old-style jukebox sits against a side wall. There is a bar, with a dozen 
stools, a few bottles on it, a microwave, and a strange contraption 
marked 'Nutrimatic Machine'. Above the bar is a sign that reads: 

Don't drink more than your limit.
Don't drink and drive.
Don't let your fights get out of hand.
Don't hog the pool table.
Don't sit in the corner and not talk to anybody.
Violators will be tossed out the nearest door or window.

 	Behind the bar is a tall man, perhaps twenty years old, with 
shoulder-length dark hair and green eyes. He wears jeans and a plain 
white shirt, with an old and ornate gold Celtic cross around his neck. 
Despite his youth, he watches his customers with the grace and confidence 
of a fighter. 
	And there are many customers. In one place stands a girl, her 
blond ringlets pulled back with a cream-colored ribbon. Her old-fashioned 
dress emphasizes her innocence and vulnerability.  Beside her in 
conversation is a strange-looking man of over seven feet tall, his face 
chalk-white, his eyes completely black. A long embroidered black cloak 
falls from his shoulders. His hair is long and black, with one white 
streak, and a large silver and jade butterfly hairpin pulling the hair 
away from one pointed ear. 
	In another place is a man with shoulder length curly brown hair 
hidden under an Australian style hat. He has a small dark beard, and 
holds a tall staff beside him. The staff has various Christian symbols 
inlaid along its length in silver and iron. Beside him is another petite 
blonde, this one more cutely mischievous than innocent. She wears an 
oversized Soviet army jacket and a baseball cap, and rests her hand on a 
laptop computer on the table in front of her.
	An Asian woman in a grubby white jumpsuit compares gadgets with a 
short, dark-haired girl whose ears are as pointed as her old-fashioned 
glasses.  A man sits with his hand on a pistol's holster while a metallic 
ball floats beside him. A woman in a wheelchair sips a drink and 
curiously watches a bald man with sunglasses. A Japanese woman with 
bleached-blonde hair, a broomstick skirt, and a katana on her back flirts 
with a tanned, brown-haired man. A tall, thin woman, her long dark hair 
falling across her pale face, sits beside a man, equally long-haired, 
with hints of spanish background about him. An unremarkable man talks 
quietly to his metal cat. A tall woman in robes strokes her cross with 
one hand and her companion dog with another. An albino man leans against 
a wall. A pregnant woman stands with her fists clenched angrily. A 
brown-haired man with many bandages, a jacket, and a Hard Rock Cafe cap 
is sitting quietly with a red-haired man. A woman with green eyes and 
long silver hair is chatting with the bartender. Many things have already 
happened.
	This is where the story begins.