I recently joined a website called Storium. It's been fun so far, and I'm getting some good practice in, so I might as well post my character's entry point! I'm also cleaning up and adding to my next update for Aura's Call. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!
----------------------------------
Across time and space, across dimensions and that misty interface between fiction and reality are scattered a hundred million white cubes. No-one knows where they came from, or how they got their special power. The cubes are made of purest, smoothest white marble, and - no bigger than the palm of a human hand - for the most part, they tend not to attract very much attention, dismissed as part of the environment. But every so often, by accident or design, a curious soul might pick one up for closer examination.
What happens next to the person who picks up a cube is the night of their lives. The cube is a portal to a point outside of time around which has been built an ineffably cool bar and nightspot called "Anatole's". "Anatole's" has been designed as a place where characters from all walks of life can stumble in, order any drink their heart desires and chew the fat with the other patrons, before returning to their everyday life. Where else might you exchange poetry with a cyborg assassin, arm-wrestle a dead president and fall in love with a sentient paramecium... all in one amazing night! "Anatole's" doesn't accept money - drinks can be purchased for tall tales and inventive ideas. Once in a while, eponymous owner & barkeep Anatole will call "Time!", close the tab, and drinkers are expected to pay their bill by sharing stories of their lives.
The bar caters for all languages and exists in a state of temporal grace - no weapons will fire (although that's not to say the odd fight doesn't break out - fists & cudgels still work just fine). And somehow the decor shifts to suit the current clientele.
Characters can arrive & leave of their own free will (or until Anatole throws them out!) There are no rules at "Anatole's" except civility... and an unspoken agreement not to upset Germ. No-one knows exactly who the hooded figure really is nor where she came from, except that she's occupied the end stool for the bar for more than five millennia...
Hosted and narrated by: Chris Lewis (Ceekayell)
--------------------------------------
Ryron could already tell today was going to be a lazy day. On top of his 8:00 am class getting canceled when he was already halfway to campus, he'd left behind his handheld game system while hurriedly packing his books for the day, figuring he'd be more inclined to actually study. That last minute decision had ended up leaving him in dire need of some stimulation. Add that to the fact that his next class wasn't for another 5 hours, and you had a pretty good recipe for boredom.
Looks like I've got two options right now, Ryron pondered. Either study outside, or study indoors.
Neither seemed very appealing, though the weather happened to be in a rare state of balance between warm sun and cool breeze. That was enough to get him wandering the campus for a suitable area.
He ended up settling beneath the shade of a tree in a relatively secluded area. Even if he ended up falling asleep out of boredom, it would be somewhere with fresh air. Looks like things are looking up,he mused as he found a non-textbook in his bag. As he stood up to make sure dropping his bag didn't make it flop onto the ground, a sudden glint caught his eye from the ground not too far away from him. Deciding the book could wait, and with nothing better to do, he decided to see if he could actually find it.
After a few cursory glances to make sure nobody was around, he combed the weedy grass around where he saw the brief gleam earlier. To his surprise, he actually found the source. A marble cube lay half buried in the weeds, about the size of his palm.
I swear, I've seen this kind of thing in some British sci-fi show before... he murmured to himself. Childhood memories of finding small plastic crystals came to him then, reminding him of a time he looked for magic everywhere. He had supposedly 'grown up' and become more accustomed to reality... so why did he suddenly feel a twinge of apprehension about just picking up a small metal object? Probably old childhood wounds, he rationalized. In a moment of indignation, he grabbed for it.
When asked later about how it felt, he would probably say that it was "Pretty much like the cube grabbed him back, but then again, it was more of a falling sensation. If you could fall into the sky in every direction at the same time." He'd probably have to be drunk to even consider trying to explain that in the first place.
The next thing he knew, he was in a swanky looking bar with a stripe motif. And not on a grassy school campus. And was that an angel? Maybe there were talking animals here too?
So. Many. Questions. Too many flooded his mind. His dumbfoundedness must've shown on his face, because the woman that came up to him managed to sound both cheerful and reassuring at the same time.
"Welcome to Anatole's!" she said cheerfully. "You may be a little disoriented from the journey, but may I welcome you to the Bar Outside of Time and Space! Feel free to unwind, relax and enjoy a drink!"
He was just about to thank her and head off when he realized he didn't know what it could cost him. Clearing his throat and trying to regain his composure, he asked what kind of payment is needed for the drink.
As soon as she said the word 'story,' his barely suppressed grin struggled to break free. He'd read enough fantasies to try forging a few of his own. "I'm not the type that to owe debts, so..." He let his smile show through. "Have I got a story for you!"
As it turned out, the stories go to the Bartender. Before he knew it, he had grabbed a seat at the bar and managed to get three chapters deep (summarized, of course) into one of his earliest 'amnesiac hero' tales involving a shipwrecked orphan and a cat who later gained human form. "I know the whole premise reeks of cliché, but trust me, the characters themselves are anything but that. If there's one thing I always try to do when writing," he continued, "It's giving characters enough personality to practically make their own decisions."
Surprisingly, Anatole didn't look like they were bored. More like... hungry? If anything, they looked like they still wanted more, which was much more than Ryron had hoped for.
"Thanks for listening to me for so long, but, uh... I promise I'll continue after some time!" Ryron tried his best to convey how he felt. "I really want to talk to the other... patrons? Is that the right word? Plus I haven't even gotten a drink yet!"
As if on cue, she heard a lady ask the bartender to serve drinks to herself, a soldier and the... 'preppie?' He looked down, and realized he was still wearing his uniform. Crap. Well, I could be wearing something worse, I suppose, he reasoned.
Anatole proceeded to announce that someone had earned everyone drinks on the house, which sent up a general cheer from those gathered.
This is going to be even better than I thought it would be! he thought, as he sat next to the lady who was going to get him and the soldier-looking guy drink. For once, knowing my way around a story actually turned out useful.
