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geeky

Fic: 'Delirium', multi-fandom crossover
So, a few months ago (December, maybe? November, even? Who knows.) I got rather sick. Which meant for about a week I was totally drugged to death on DayQuil. It was an interesting week.

During that week, I had an Idea. It was a very bizarre idea, with its origins involving something about karaoke, if I remember right. The Idea never, ever went away, and people actually encouraged it, which was probably a bad idea on their respective parts.

This fic is the result of that Idea. Please give it a chance, despite your feeling about crossovers or strange multi-fandom universes or whatever.

Title: Delirium
Rating: PG? Nothing really objectionable, but I'd feel weird rating it G.
Disclaimer: Setting is mine, as are the staff and narrator. Everything else belongs to its creator(s).
Feedback: Yes, please. Anything you want. I want to know what people think of this one.
Summary: You don't know it's there until you arrive, and even then that's not too certain.
(Or: Cori sends a bunch of random characters to an indeterminate place, where they get talked about.)
A/N: Infinite thanks to Carmarthen and uselessplayback for all their beta work, and Katie, Ashlle, and Celestina for assuring me that the story didn't suck.

There is a bar on a street corner that no one can give you clear directions to. This is most likely because no one's really sure what universe it's in, or if it's really even there at all. Once you make it there, though, the Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters stop you from wondering about things like that. It’s only about a week afterward, when the hangover wears off, that you start wondering just where you really were.

The staff are nothing remarkable - please ignore the rumors that the bartender spikes the drinks. It’s the people who manage to make it there who have something special about them, and if you can make it there in the first place, it’s highly unlikely you need anything extra in your drink.

Ask the waitresses for the stories, though.

You may not have to tonight. The clientele seems to be interesting enough tonight to spare you the need for too much conversation - unless, of course, that’s what you’re after, in which case converse with the employees to your heart’s content.

The corner booths are always an interesting place to start, when observing here. There’s one man dressed in pure white who sits in the farthest corner. Most people avoid him - there seems to be something not-quite-all-there in his bright blue eyes; he’s both beautiful and somehow terrifying, and seems like he can strip you down to your very bones given enough time with you. Really, you’d think someone would ask him to leave, but they never do. The bartender lets him stay there night after night, even though he makes people feel like their bones itch, because of the flash of an almost a puppy-dog hope in the man’s eyes every time a tall, dark man in black walks through the door. No one knows whom he’s waiting for or if they’ll ever show up. Seems as though he’ll wait forever if he has to, though, drawing sand dunes and garlands on the cocktail napkins while he waits.

But we mustn’t dwell too long on him, this is a crowded place, after all, and surely you want to see everyone else here.

Take a look at the two gentlemen in the booth near the man in white. Interesting couple, aren’t they? We seem to acquire an impressive wine list whenever they stop by. The staff think they’re spies; they say all the bits of conversation they overhear are in some sort of code and claim that no one who isn’t hiding something would talk about ducks and Freud the way those two do. They make you nervous, too? Ah. Well, no one here is quite normal, so you may have to get used to it. The sunglasses are nothing out of the ordinary compared to what some of the other patrons wear.

For instance, no, that gentleman with long brown hair at the bar isn’t wearing a dress, and yes, he is allowed to carry that sword in here. We don’t try to take away weapons. We’d end up taking away everything from that katana to the very dangerous brain of the redhead in the green coat. Surely you couldn’t have missed him when you walked in. He’s currently alternating between sending seductive death glares at two men at the other end of the counter and wrapping himself around the black-haired man with glasses sitting to his left. Coincidentally, we’d also have to divest that black-haired man of his very expensive gun, and the two at the other end of the bar of their watch and katana, respectively. The weapons thing would really be more trouble than it’s worth.

You think you need a drink? Oh. Quite understandable, I suppose. Do try to avoid looking the wrong way at the man with brown hair and purple eyes on your way to the bar, or you’ll have that pretty green-eyed boy next to him and the blue-eyed man on his other side sending death glares your way for the rest of the night, and the shadows may do funny things when you walk by. No, not like shadow puppets. Take my advice and don’t find out. The man in white with mismatched eyes who stands in dark corners isn’t too fond of people who look at Purple-Eyes over there either, so I’d highly recommend avoiding that party altogether.

Oh, and don’t listen to the man who tells you to get the Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster, no matter how sane he seems. He will probably go on to tell you that no matter what people say, the only good flying saucer is a green one. Sane people do not drink Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters. Don’t drink those or the rum, unless you want to wind up very well-acquainted with the gentleman wearing eyeliner, dreadlocks, and two braids in his beard. Or with his pistol, depending on what sort of mood he’s in.

The bald one gives very good drink recommendations, though, provided you don’t have to disentangle him from his handsome companion with dark, curly hair.

And do yourself a favor - don’t ask that smirking man over there with the clever dark eyes for anything. You may end up owing him something in return and we wouldn’t want that at all.

Of course there are women in this bar. What a ridiculous question. There’s a gorgeous redhead who stops by every so often, though we prefer that she doesn’t. Fights just seem to break out everywhere she goes. You’d think that with our usual patrons...

But yes, she-who-spreads-destruction-in-her-wake aside, there’s also a lovely girl who always wears a lot of black and an ankh around her neck who comes in to talk with the customers. We’re not sure why - she seems to just enjoy the human interaction. But she’s always polite, and far nicer than her brother is.

At least, we think he’s her brother. No one’s really sure if the catlike figure is her brother or sister. But he - or she - is so charming that unlike his - or her - sister, he makes the bartender wary and puts the more...aware patrons on their guard. He often refers to this as one of his favorite spots - says we do a lot of his work for him, though he laughs at the name of our humble establishment, says it’s not his sister’s domain.

Now, didn’t you want a drink?

No, I’m not going with you to the bar. Don’t be silly. No one here bites. At least, not unless you ask very nicely, and even then you’ll have to be careful you’re not asking someone with a companion who will kill you for asking. And just when I was beginning to give you some credit for intelligence, too. Go on. I’ll be right here when you get back, I promise.

Lawrence of Arabia, Good Omens, Yami no Matsuei, Weiss Kreuz, YnM again, Hitchhiker's Guide, Pirates of the Caribbean, Smallville, Neverwhere, Good Omens again, and Sandman.