All characters portrayed herein either belong to someone, is a copyright of a company, exist in real life, or is a product of my imagination. Credit is due everywhere, take it as you will.
"At the beginning and end of life and death, souls and personalities come and go drifting through existence and finding themselves at the Café of Broken Dreams."
Manganate fanfiction presents.
A self-insert fanfiction by Bryce Chu
A post modern shrug
It began quite simply. Some say he did it out of greed. Some say he was insane when he started. Some say he was looking for enlightenment. Some say he was tired and bored with life. Some say he was lonely. Still others say he was trying to make a name for himself. In actuality no one really knew. Not even himself, but if you look for him you'll always find him. He'll always be there, taking orders, serving drinks, talking, and kicking people out of his Café of Broken Dreams.
The Café of Broken Dreams
(Episode 2)
"Really, that's interesting…"
"Yeah, I know…isn't it?"
"But I'll tell you something…."
"What?"
Bryce leaned over the counter and stared into the wide eyes of an aspiring (well not really, just dumb) swordsman.
"I really don't really don't give three quarters of a damn."
He nodded approvingly. The guy just sat there for a while gawking as Bryce put the last glass away.
Now this guy was your typical run of the mill reject (i.e. scum, low-life, unemployed, boozer, and on and on)…if they were meant to make it big in the animation industry they would've been picked up already. This one, however, was slightly different…he thought he actually had something…he had hope that he could still make it big. You see, this kid (now not a kid anymore but not in anyway more mature) was in line behind some other kid (who isn't a kid either anymore) for auditions somewhere a while back. It was for parts in a seemingly plot-less, near modern Japanese animation series with strange people, with strange abilities, and bladed weapons (now known better as Rurouni Kenshin). The "kid" in front of him had been very quiet throughout the entire waiting period and had a slight figure. This kid got the part as Kenshin while he was just booted out of the studio for making too much noise and breaking too much furniture (note: kids get excited when they hold large sharp instruments and they tend to do things that wouldn't been done under any circumstance whatsoever). As it goes, this kid grew up clutching his sword and believing that the only reason why he was kicked out that day was because they couldn't recognize his true brilliance (poor idiotic soul, Bryce felt no pity). He "knew" that someday he would be the star in a popular anime series too.
The guy stood up abruptly, his face lowered, and his eyes closed. The classic pose before someone did something dramatic. He pushed the blade out of the scabbard with an audible CLICK. All was quiet. You could've heard a drunkard burp. A drunk burped and the guy swung the sword at Bryce at neck level. CLANG!!! Clang? That wasn't the right sound for a sword on flesh. Bryce smiled and gave a low whistle. Stanley the bouncer walked out the back room, picked the guy up and drop-kicked him out the front door. Bryce put the butter knife away.
"Who needs another loser walking around with a sharp object anyway?"
The night was young and the special was marinara pizza (no cheese) topped with garlic, oregano, heavy spices, and fresh tomato sauce, it was very popular. Too popular because everyone was wolfing down food and not ordering any drinks. Which made Bryce very bored. The out of print fanfiction writer Chad Yang sat in the darkest corner trying to fully enjoy the experience of the Italian atmosphere. Bryce brought his pizza over with a full flask of oil and set it down on the table.
"Still hitting the papers?"
Chad said nothing.
"Just because they hate you doesn't mean you're not good."
Silence.
"Eat your pizza."
He did.
That wasn't the only thing he did. He also pulled an ancient typewriter out of his pocket and slipped in several pieces of skanda compress (a high quality print paper) and started typing away with a clickity-click. Bryce just shook his head and returned to the counter. A few more customers were starting to drift in, two couples to be exact. To them it was just a dream, and people act very naturally in dreams. Bryce smiled.
"What can I get for ya?"
They asked to see the menu.
"There is no menu, we're doing Italian tonight, the special is some marinara pizza."
They were a little confused but took a seat anyway. Bryce brought them some marinara anyway and set down a bottle of spicy oil.
"Family rules, meal in the middle, everyone shares."
They began to munch quietly on the meal.
Click-Click
"CHEERS!!!" one of the regulars lifted a mug to the girls and winked at her.
"Hey! Don't get any funny ideas!"
Bryce looked up from the book he was reading. Things were looking to get ugly. He glanced at the back room. Stanley was already leaning against the door post. Nothing to worry about here. The drunk and the guy were already getting into each other's face. Nothing to worry about. All of a sudden the door flew open and a small man with long hair and a slight figure strode in boldy. He stopped abruptly and looked around. Something was amiss.
"Excuse me, where is this?":
Bryce shrugged.
"It's the Café of Broken Dreams."
"Is ShiShiohere?"
"I wouldn't know what does he look like?"
"Well, he carries a sword, like me, and wears purple robes, and has bandages all over his body."
"Hmmmm…why don't you look around."
The man looked around intently. His inspection was greeted with a bunch of slobbering drunkards and two girls sitting at a table trying not to be noticed and a two guys about to bash each other's brains out.
"I think I'm in the wrong place."
"Well, that depends, are you looking for some sake?"
He thought for a minute and nodded.
"I guess I could use some."
He sat down at the counter.
Click Click. Chad typed furiously and his pizza was all gone. Bryce looked at him sideways and poured a small cup of sake. The two guys started fighting and Stanley promptly kicked them out.
"You sword people are really into your thing huh?"
"What?"
"Well, I had another guy in here a while back that I had to remove because he felt inadequate about his technique."
"What was so bad about it?"
"Forget it."
The man shrugged and drank his sake. All was quiet. Bryce closed his eyes if only the peace could on forever. His peace was cut short when the door flew open again. The loser from early dashed into the room.
"CLICK CLICK CLICK", typed Chad.
"Kenshin!! I knew I'd get my revenge someday! PREPARE TO DIE!!"
Kenshin calmly stood up and drew his sword to his side.
"Wanko…you never had a chance."
Wanko ran at Kenshin and drew his blade.
"Four Quarters and Two Halves!!!"
He dropped at the last minute and rolled at Kenshin bringing the blade in a fast upward arc.
SMACK!!
Wanko stumbled back with a footprint on his face. Kenshin smiled and backed up. Wanko scowled at Kenshin.
"I am heir to the greatest sword-technique in the world, you've no chance for victory."
Bryce lifted an eyebrow.
"I think you two had better leave, there is no such thing as bar fight as long as I'm around."
He was ignored. Kenshin charged forward with unthinkable speed and drew his sword.
"Ryu-Kan-Sen!"
It was over as fast as it had started Wanko's sword broke, the tip spinning upward, and he dissolved into consciousness. Kenshin stood and looked around.
"Where'd he go?"
Bryce shook his head and downed a shot of scotch.
"He woke up, when people die in dreams they wake up. Simple."
"Then why am I here, I didn't fall asleep."
"You probably fell into a bottomless hole it happens sometimes. I'd advise that you leave now. You're more trouble than you're worth."
"What do you mean?"
Bryce pointed at a table near Kenshin and snapped his fingers. A thin sheet of wood raised itself from the surface and flew out the front door.
"You gave that table a close shave. Though there's not any real damage I don't appreciate it. Last time we had a fight in here it cost me a lot money."
"But…."
"Listen, just leave, you'll find yourself in the place you want to be when you exit that door."
Kenshin nodded and walked toward the door. Bryce called to him as he was about to leave.
"And one last piece of advice…"
Kenshin stopped.
"Get a REAL sword."
Kenshin gave him a sour expression and walked out.
"CLICK CLICK CLICK", typed Chad.
Bryce slumped down behind the counter. He cast his eyes around the room.
"Anymore orders of Marinara? We never know when we'll have it again."
There was no sound save the clicking of the typewriter and the occasional burp. Chad continued to type furiously. Suddenly a small piece of metal shrapnel fell onto the typewriter wedging itself between G and H. It was the tip of Wanko's sword. Chad looked at it thoughfully and typed some more. He smiled and reached for the small metal tip. It slipped right out of his hands. He stopped.
"Pig fat…"
Bryce looked up.
"What?"
Chad frowned.
"His blade was coated with pig fat."
He frowned some more. Something was amiss. This was awfully familiar, but what was it? Then he knew, his grew to the size of dinner plates.
"HIS BLADE WAS COATED WITH PIG FAT!! NOOOOOO!!!!"
Before he could react the blade burst into flames and consumed everything. The typewriter, the document he was typing, and his napkin. All was burned to ash. Chad stood there was a crazy light in his eyes.
"Perfect…."
He muttered. He grinned broadly.
"It was perfect….IT WAS FUCKING PERFECT!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
He burst out in maniacal laughter.
"IT WAS THE GREATEST WORK IN THE HISTORY OF FANFICTIONS!! BUT NOW IT'S ALL GONE!!! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Tears streamed from his eyes and they took on a sado-masochistic gleam.
"YOU WILL ALL PAYYYY!!!!"
With that he picked up his table and smashed a sleeping drunk with it. He leapt through the air toward the counter. Bryce was not expecting this.
"Hey!! Calm down man! Have a drink for God's sake!"
Nothing could reach him now. Chad had become the essence of himself.
"349 pages, 50000 words, 200 different series, including the adult ones, and all them perfectly linked each other, and it actually made sense for once!! GONE, ALL GONE!!!!!"
He reached for Bryce but crashed heavily into the counter.
"Stanley!! Get this freak show outta here!"
Stanley walked over and picked Chad up by the feet and held him in the air as he squirmed and wriggled.
"PUT ME DOWN!! I'LL WRITE ABOUT YOU!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"
Stanley simply tossed him out the front door. The sound of his wail fading as he spiraled away. Bryce shook his head. He picked up a small broom and dust-pan and walked over the table Chad was at. He cleaned up the ash and dumped in out the front door after Chad. An inhuman cry arose from outside.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! THE ASHES!! I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS BRYCE!!"
Bryce smiled.
"Maybe next time, Chad."
End of Episode of 2
Alright that was the second installment. For those of you who know Chad (aka The Seventh One or The Other Nanashi) you can relate to this installment. Kenshin had little or nothing to do with it. I don't want any comments or opinions having to do with Dogmeat and Set (what kind of garbage is that anyway? That's demented thinking
"At the beginning and end of life and death, souls and personalities come and go drifting through existence and finding themselves at the Café of Broken Dreams."
Manganate fanfiction presents.
A self-insert fanfiction by Bryce Chu
A post modern shrug
It began quite simply. Some say he did it out of greed. Some say he was insane when he started. Some say he was looking for enlightenment. Some say he was tired and bored with life. Some say he was lonely. Still others say he was trying to make a name for himself. In actuality no one really knew. Not even himself, but if you look for him you'll always find him. He'll always be there, taking orders, serving drinks, talking, and kicking people out of his Café of Broken Dreams.
The Café of Broken Dreams
(Episode 2)
"Really, that's interesting…"
"Yeah, I know…isn't it?"
"But I'll tell you something…."
"What?"
Bryce leaned over the counter and stared into the wide eyes of an aspiring (well not really, just dumb) swordsman.
"I really don't really don't give three quarters of a damn."
He nodded approvingly. The guy just sat there for a while gawking as Bryce put the last glass away.
Now this guy was your typical run of the mill reject (i.e. scum, low-life, unemployed, boozer, and on and on)…if they were meant to make it big in the animation industry they would've been picked up already. This one, however, was slightly different…he thought he actually had something…he had hope that he could still make it big. You see, this kid (now not a kid anymore but not in anyway more mature) was in line behind some other kid (who isn't a kid either anymore) for auditions somewhere a while back. It was for parts in a seemingly plot-less, near modern Japanese animation series with strange people, with strange abilities, and bladed weapons (now known better as Rurouni Kenshin). The "kid" in front of him had been very quiet throughout the entire waiting period and had a slight figure. This kid got the part as Kenshin while he was just booted out of the studio for making too much noise and breaking too much furniture (note: kids get excited when they hold large sharp instruments and they tend to do things that wouldn't been done under any circumstance whatsoever). As it goes, this kid grew up clutching his sword and believing that the only reason why he was kicked out that day was because they couldn't recognize his true brilliance (poor idiotic soul, Bryce felt no pity). He "knew" that someday he would be the star in a popular anime series too.
The guy stood up abruptly, his face lowered, and his eyes closed. The classic pose before someone did something dramatic. He pushed the blade out of the scabbard with an audible CLICK. All was quiet. You could've heard a drunkard burp. A drunk burped and the guy swung the sword at Bryce at neck level. CLANG!!! Clang? That wasn't the right sound for a sword on flesh. Bryce smiled and gave a low whistle. Stanley the bouncer walked out the back room, picked the guy up and drop-kicked him out the front door. Bryce put the butter knife away.
"Who needs another loser walking around with a sharp object anyway?"
The night was young and the special was marinara pizza (no cheese) topped with garlic, oregano, heavy spices, and fresh tomato sauce, it was very popular. Too popular because everyone was wolfing down food and not ordering any drinks. Which made Bryce very bored. The out of print fanfiction writer Chad Yang sat in the darkest corner trying to fully enjoy the experience of the Italian atmosphere. Bryce brought his pizza over with a full flask of oil and set it down on the table.
"Still hitting the papers?"
Chad said nothing.
"Just because they hate you doesn't mean you're not good."
Silence.
"Eat your pizza."
He did.
That wasn't the only thing he did. He also pulled an ancient typewriter out of his pocket and slipped in several pieces of skanda compress (a high quality print paper) and started typing away with a clickity-click. Bryce just shook his head and returned to the counter. A few more customers were starting to drift in, two couples to be exact. To them it was just a dream, and people act very naturally in dreams. Bryce smiled.
"What can I get for ya?"
They asked to see the menu.
"There is no menu, we're doing Italian tonight, the special is some marinara pizza."
They were a little confused but took a seat anyway. Bryce brought them some marinara anyway and set down a bottle of spicy oil.
"Family rules, meal in the middle, everyone shares."
They began to munch quietly on the meal.
Click-Click
"CHEERS!!!" one of the regulars lifted a mug to the girls and winked at her.
"Hey! Don't get any funny ideas!"
Bryce looked up from the book he was reading. Things were looking to get ugly. He glanced at the back room. Stanley was already leaning against the door post. Nothing to worry about here. The drunk and the guy were already getting into each other's face. Nothing to worry about. All of a sudden the door flew open and a small man with long hair and a slight figure strode in boldy. He stopped abruptly and looked around. Something was amiss.
"Excuse me, where is this?":
Bryce shrugged.
"It's the Café of Broken Dreams."
"Is ShiShiohere?"
"I wouldn't know what does he look like?"
"Well, he carries a sword, like me, and wears purple robes, and has bandages all over his body."
"Hmmmm…why don't you look around."
The man looked around intently. His inspection was greeted with a bunch of slobbering drunkards and two girls sitting at a table trying not to be noticed and a two guys about to bash each other's brains out.
"I think I'm in the wrong place."
"Well, that depends, are you looking for some sake?"
He thought for a minute and nodded.
"I guess I could use some."
He sat down at the counter.
Click Click. Chad typed furiously and his pizza was all gone. Bryce looked at him sideways and poured a small cup of sake. The two guys started fighting and Stanley promptly kicked them out.
"You sword people are really into your thing huh?"
"What?"
"Well, I had another guy in here a while back that I had to remove because he felt inadequate about his technique."
"What was so bad about it?"
"Forget it."
The man shrugged and drank his sake. All was quiet. Bryce closed his eyes if only the peace could on forever. His peace was cut short when the door flew open again. The loser from early dashed into the room.
"CLICK CLICK CLICK", typed Chad.
"Kenshin!! I knew I'd get my revenge someday! PREPARE TO DIE!!"
Kenshin calmly stood up and drew his sword to his side.
"Wanko…you never had a chance."
Wanko ran at Kenshin and drew his blade.
"Four Quarters and Two Halves!!!"
He dropped at the last minute and rolled at Kenshin bringing the blade in a fast upward arc.
SMACK!!
Wanko stumbled back with a footprint on his face. Kenshin smiled and backed up. Wanko scowled at Kenshin.
"I am heir to the greatest sword-technique in the world, you've no chance for victory."
Bryce lifted an eyebrow.
"I think you two had better leave, there is no such thing as bar fight as long as I'm around."
He was ignored. Kenshin charged forward with unthinkable speed and drew his sword.
"Ryu-Kan-Sen!"
It was over as fast as it had started Wanko's sword broke, the tip spinning upward, and he dissolved into consciousness. Kenshin stood and looked around.
"Where'd he go?"
Bryce shook his head and downed a shot of scotch.
"He woke up, when people die in dreams they wake up. Simple."
"Then why am I here, I didn't fall asleep."
"You probably fell into a bottomless hole it happens sometimes. I'd advise that you leave now. You're more trouble than you're worth."
"What do you mean?"
Bryce pointed at a table near Kenshin and snapped his fingers. A thin sheet of wood raised itself from the surface and flew out the front door.
"You gave that table a close shave. Though there's not any real damage I don't appreciate it. Last time we had a fight in here it cost me a lot money."
"But…."
"Listen, just leave, you'll find yourself in the place you want to be when you exit that door."
Kenshin nodded and walked toward the door. Bryce called to him as he was about to leave.
"And one last piece of advice…"
Kenshin stopped.
"Get a REAL sword."
Kenshin gave him a sour expression and walked out.
"CLICK CLICK CLICK", typed Chad.
Bryce slumped down behind the counter. He cast his eyes around the room.
"Anymore orders of Marinara? We never know when we'll have it again."
There was no sound save the clicking of the typewriter and the occasional burp. Chad continued to type furiously. Suddenly a small piece of metal shrapnel fell onto the typewriter wedging itself between G and H. It was the tip of Wanko's sword. Chad looked at it thoughfully and typed some more. He smiled and reached for the small metal tip. It slipped right out of his hands. He stopped.
"Pig fat…"
Bryce looked up.
"What?"
Chad frowned.
"His blade was coated with pig fat."
He frowned some more. Something was amiss. This was awfully familiar, but what was it? Then he knew, his grew to the size of dinner plates.
"HIS BLADE WAS COATED WITH PIG FAT!! NOOOOOO!!!!"
Before he could react the blade burst into flames and consumed everything. The typewriter, the document he was typing, and his napkin. All was burned to ash. Chad stood there was a crazy light in his eyes.
"Perfect…."
He muttered. He grinned broadly.
"It was perfect….IT WAS FUCKING PERFECT!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
He burst out in maniacal laughter.
"IT WAS THE GREATEST WORK IN THE HISTORY OF FANFICTIONS!! BUT NOW IT'S ALL GONE!!! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Tears streamed from his eyes and they took on a sado-masochistic gleam.
"YOU WILL ALL PAYYYY!!!!"
With that he picked up his table and smashed a sleeping drunk with it. He leapt through the air toward the counter. Bryce was not expecting this.
"Hey!! Calm down man! Have a drink for God's sake!"
Nothing could reach him now. Chad had become the essence of himself.
"349 pages, 50000 words, 200 different series, including the adult ones, and all them perfectly linked each other, and it actually made sense for once!! GONE, ALL GONE!!!!!"
He reached for Bryce but crashed heavily into the counter.
"Stanley!! Get this freak show outta here!"
Stanley walked over and picked Chad up by the feet and held him in the air as he squirmed and wriggled.
"PUT ME DOWN!! I'LL WRITE ABOUT YOU!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"
Stanley simply tossed him out the front door. The sound of his wail fading as he spiraled away. Bryce shook his head. He picked up a small broom and dust-pan and walked over the table Chad was at. He cleaned up the ash and dumped in out the front door after Chad. An inhuman cry arose from outside.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! THE ASHES!! I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS BRYCE!!"
Bryce smiled.
"Maybe next time, Chad."
End of Episode of 2
Alright that was the second installment. For those of you who know Chad (aka The Seventh One or The Other Nanashi) you can relate to this installment. Kenshin had little or nothing to do with it. I don't want any comments or opinions having to do with Dogmeat and Set (what kind of garbage is that anyway? That's demented thinking