A/N: Total absence of review replies:)

Chapter Nine: Introduction of A Mythical Beast

The people who'd been sent to collect various characters were now returning, slowly but surely. Random surveyed them with a lazy eye; then covered that one with her hand and surveyed them with her good eye, and also with considerable satisfaction.

SimplyElymas entered, arm in arm with Nadir, laughing at something he's said which probably wasn't, in reality, all that funny; the most accurate word for the way she felt was 'giddy.' She hadn't had to catch Nadir— coming upon him in a discount auto parts store, she had simply asked him if he wanted some fun and gotten an enthusiastic "Yes!" She'd been somewhat surprised to find that he was wearing capri pants and a brightly-colored Hawaiian shirt along with his turban, but this was alright. What really bothered her was the white socks and Birkenstock sandals.

He was, however, still her Nadir, and she was proud to be with him, although she did try to draw attention away from his feet by repeatedly pointing at his face and grinning at everyone.

Monj and Reg had found a gaggle of Mary Sues running wild in a field. After some vigorous excercise with lassos, they had succeeded in splintering off a handful of them from the main herd, captured them, branded them, and hauled them off to the Administrative Office. Now, they crowded through the door, mouths open and eyes wide— a group of young women, blond brunette, black-haired, red-headed, silver-haired, and white with a black streak. There was an admirable variety of the species, the group including a modern-day, a post-Christine, two pre-Christines, a saucy cook, a perky understudy, and a paraplegic with a heart of gold. At the sight of the Eriks they stopped dead and started breathing quickly.

Behind them, Sarah Belle entered with Carlotta, dragging her by her corset strings; trincula walked in with the managers, who were chatting amiably and holding hands; and everything was shaping up according to the plan which did, supposedly exist. Jeeves settled into Crawford Phantom's lap and glanced over at Random.

"Can you tell us now?"

"In a minute," murmured Random distractedly. "I'm trying to win a staring contest with Colm Wilkinson Erik."

There was a shriek from the corner, and Mizamour leapt up. "I didn't see him here, where is he!" CW Erik being located, she tackled him immediately. Random straightened up.

"I win by default," she announced. "Now lets get down to business. The whole idea behind this thing was— well, remember we had a sort of agreement with the Eriks at the end of WLIIA? They would come and maybe play the muse for our writing?"

There were general murmurs of agreement from the writers and a shriek of delight from Mizamour, who was unbuttoning CW Erik's shirt.

"Well—" said Random. "That's basically what they're going to do, except— a lot more so."

Everyone blinked in tandem. It was audible.

The Eriks began to shift restlessly, whilst Kay Erik plotted Random's demise.

The Writers felt a bit of excitement grow in them— whatever this plot thing was, it seemed that it would be fun.

Jeeves slid silently off Crawford Phantom's lap and onto the floor, where she hugged his leg and untied his shoes.

The three Ks that were once Willow Rose squabbled amongst themselves in sign language.

OneWhoWalksWithPigeons painted CLE Erik's toenails.

Celtic Heart, who had ended up on Gerry Phantom's lap, was receiving a back massage and loving it.

There was dead silence in the room, apart from all the noise.

Mandy said, "Ran?"

Random blinked pleasantly at her. "Hm?"

"—was there more to it?"

"Oh! Yeah! Forgot, sorry, got distracted. Happens, you know. Um— where was I?"

Mandy exchanged glances with Adison, who said, "Should you punjab her, or should I?'

"Okay!" said Random. "Okay. The simple truth is that they are here to do your bidding. Instead of having to write an Erik for any of your phics— they will simply play the part for you. Do what you tell them to. It'll be like directing a movie. And you can choose whichever Erik is right for your story." She stopped talking and looked pleased with herself.

There was a quiet intake of breath by the Writers, and most of them said, "Oooooh—" The Eriks were too shocked to speak. MindGame glanced speculatively at them and said, "I think we have about three minutes before they start rampaging."

"Remember that bit about the power of fiction?" said Random. Upon receiving nods, she displayed her notebook. "Its written down here, this— what was it called again?"

"I— don't know," said Allison. "What are you referring to?"

"The thing we're discussing— there's not a lot of them— they're hard to deal with— mine never make sense—"

"Ideas?" suggested DarkPriestessofAssimbya.

"Conversations?" offered Gavvie.

"No!" said Random, with a peeved glare. "But thank you very much."

"Plots," said Celtic Heart.

"Yes! Thank you. Plots. Anyway. I don't recall what I was saying, but I think I meant it."

"Plots," said Celtic Heart again. Random stared at her.

"What?"

"You were saying," she said with infinite patience, "that the plot was written down in your notebook."

"Oh right! Oh right! The mythical beast called a plot. The plot's in my notebook, all's right with the world. If its written down, they can't violate it. Power of fiction, y'see. We have them," she said, her voice drawing down to a secretive whisper, "in our power."

This was enough to make Kay Erik, Chaney Erik, and Erik Destler leap from their chairs and start angrily towards her. Destler was subdued without much fuss by an alert Bee, Chaney was subdued without much fuss by Allison, and Kay Erik was subdued without any fuss at all by Mandy, who tackled him and sat on his chest.

He stared up at her.

"Kindly— get— off."

"Make me," she said with a smile.

He tried to push her off but she planted her feet on his elbows and pinned his arms to the floor, then grinned at his outraged glare.

"So, why," said Monkey, waving a hand in the air to catch attention, "did you have people go and get Carlotta and Nadir and the managers and Raoul for? They weren't part of the agreement."

"Well," said Random, slowly, trying to work her reasons for doing things out in her head first, "I— am not sure. Probably because I thought it would be a little extra help for those that need it, to have some of the other characters too. And for original prototypes, thus the Mary Sues. I had it all thought out, see. It got a little muddled when my brain ran off— but the basics are still there." She frowned at her notebook and turned it to one side. "At least, I think the basics are still there. It's hard to read my handwriting."

"But what," said Monkey, further, "about Christine?"

Random turned huge, startled eyes on her, then swept them around the room, taking in the waiting Writers, the unhappy Eriks, the potted plants, and the total lack of Christine.

"Aw, crap, I knew I forgot something."

There was, from outside the door, some noise. Mostly it sounded like footsteps and female chattering. But there was also a light, steady drip-drip-drip. Everyone turned and looked at the door, except for Leroux Erik, who was trying to catch a fly with his tongue. He didn't succeed, got angry, and punjabbed the insect. Or rather, totally failed to punjab the insect. Flies are rather small. He did, however, succeed in punjabbing ElfLover.

The door opened and into the room stepped Emmy Christine, accompanied by a slight young man who was not looking at her face. She blinked at everyone; he waved distractedly.

"For Pete's sake," said Chanson d'Obscurite, "wipe your mouth."

He did, with the side of his hand, and finally turned a grin on the entire room. "Writers! Eriks! Random! I made it, finally, and guess who I brought with me?"

"Tom Petty," said Hoshi alertly. Random sat up straighter.

The young man blinked. "No—"

"Johnny Depp?"

"Uh, no."

"Darth Vader!" shouted PJ.

"No! Christine!" said the man, pointing at Emmy Christine, who managed to close her mouth long enough to smile slightly.

There was a pause.

"Oh," said Hoshi and PJ disappointedly.

"Thanks, FAB," said Random. "I should have known I could count on you."

FAB, formally known as Fallen Angel Boy, or possibly Darth Giloron, or even more possibly something entirely different, gave a short bow and a large grin. "Well, she's Christine, isn't she— if I can get her to follow me around, all will be peace and harmony. She's mine! Mine, I say!"

The Eriks shifted angrily.

"Um, FAB?" said Circe Rose. "I know you're just joking, but really, talk like that'll get you killed."

"Oh well," said FAB, and blinked cheerfully.

Stalker Erik stepped forward and looked the young man up and down. "New here?"

"Somewhat. I talk enough that I'm recognized, though. And I'm male, so."

"So am I," said Stalker Erik, as though he were making a very important point. FAB reacted badly to this.

"Ye-e-es," he said slowly. "And I understand you are also an Erik."

"Ye-e-es," said Stalker Erik in a direct parody of FAB's tone, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," said FAB, and nodded. "So, not your average writer then."

Stalker Erik put his hands on his hips and tilted his head to look at him from under his rakishly-tipped fedora. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," said FAB breezily. "I mean, you may be an Erik and all, but— can you do this?" Stepping away from Christine, he executed three cartwheels and, apart from wobbling a bit as he came to a stop, had very good form. Five of the writers produced large squares of cardboard with numbers on them and gave him a score. He bowed to some half-hearted applause and turned his grin on Stalker Erik, who snorted.

"Brava," he said.

"Bravo, you mean?"

"I'm not quite sure yet," said Stalker Erik with a gimlet-eyed stare. "All very athletic of you, I'm sure, but can you do this?" He sat down, and snapped his fingers. In a very few seconds, Le Chat had curled up on his lap, Random had planted a kiss on his forehead and stretched an arm across his shoulders, Jennyfair was having a wardrobe malfunction in his immediate vicinity, Adison shook a corset top at him, Celtic Heart started stacking up books for him to read, and Boomer was censoring him with a will. He grinned crookedly at FAB, who watched in quiet admiration and then began to applaud.

"Now that we've got that sorted," said Stalker Erik pleasantly, and stood up, shaking females off him and returning to his spot in the corner.

"I'm impressed," said FAB.

"Of course you are," said Random. "It's Erik the Abstract. He does everything."

"Everything?"

"Co-mod, musician, music teacher, singer, writer, poet, actor, book-stocker—"

"Book stalker?"

Random blinked and turned to the corner. "Book stalker?"

"Ooooh yess," said Stalker Erik, closing his eyes with a brief and graphic display of ecstasy. She turned back to FAB and shrugged.

"Alright then," said FAB. "But I can still do cartwheels."

"So," said Random, taking up a perch on Leroux Erik's lap, "we've got the Eriks, we've got a Christine, Nadir, the managers, Carlotta, Raoul, and Mary-Sues. All we need now— are some volunteer writers. So. Who wants to go first?"

She smiled at them all.

There was a dead silence in the room, and the uneasy feeling that, shortly, someone would be having some trouble keeping their sanity.

A/N: For real this time. If you seriously want to volunteer, send me an e-mail please. I'm only going to focus on a few writers; this doesn't mean that everyone else won't still be in it, it just means that only a few will get to do their stories with the help of the Eriks. Thanks!