Textbook:

	Reality: (noun) 1. The quality or state of being actual or true. 2. One,
such as a person, an entity, or an event, that is actual. 3. The totality
of all things possessing actuality, existence, or essence. 4. That which
exists objectively and in fact.  

Layman's:

	Reality: (noun) What your senses tell you is there, what you can see,
smell, hear, taste or touch.

	But what is "reality" really? What is real for one may not be real for
others. There is also the parallel reality idea, infinite dimensions with
infinite possibilities. Every one of these possibilities is played out to
its fullest extent in its own plane. And, on rare occasion, these planes
"overlap," causing confusion.

	Stepping through the shades of reality is a relatively simple task, just
ask anyone who's held a dream in their heart and held hope in their eyes.
There aren't many, actually depressingly few, but for those few, life is
never the same.

Let me tell you a story...


**********************************

     Psychosis & Grill Press

            presents

       DREAMS OF REALITY
	   Chapter One

              by:

           Arcadian
                   
           Based on:

     A wee bit of everything

**********************************

Side note: I own none of this with the exception of Psychosis & Grill Press
and Arcadian aka Arc. Most everything else is owned by whoever made it, and
most specifically Takahashi Rumiko who created the setting and characters
that this bit is played out in. Please don't sue or anything like that. 

Addendum: This may start out as a shameless self-insertion first-fic, but I
hope to pace it right and hopefully make it a pleasant experience. I
hope...  C&C greatly appreciated, MST's... why not, and flames will be...
um... considered. 

**********************************

	It was a lazy summer evening at the diner. It was a summer evening like
any other, though maybe a bit cooler and cloudier than most. The sign over
the doorway on the outside proclaimed "Ucchan's Okonomiyaki" to any who
where interested, and apparently very few were at this time. Inside
business was slow. The proprietress' line of thought amended this, it was
moving at a snail's pace, and closing up soon would probably not be a bad
idea.  

	Unnoticed by her, or anyone else for that matter, a door chose that moment
to innocuously appear a couple paces distant behind her, being completely
unsupported by anything. It was off white and bore the words: "Arcadian
Straits" at about the height you usually see those "Authorized Personnel
Only" signs. It opened slowly and somewhat reluctantly, its silver doorknob
glittering faintly, with the sound of a low and plaintive creak. A stale
breeze that originated from within the confines of the door wafted through
and played fitfully with the proprietress' hair for a moment before heading
off for something else to do. All this of course attracted her attention.

	"What the..." she began as she turned to face the portal, and all sense
left her mind at what she saw within, but consciousness decided to stay
behind to see what was up.

	The other side of the opening was not, as any would normally expect, a
view of the rest of the restaurant behind it. Instead it wantonly chose to
boggle the mind by being a vast, empty windswept plain stretching off into
the distant mountains. The grasses of the plain were of a medium height and
covered in a fine layer of dust that, were the broad featureless plain a
building, would make one think of it as old and abandoned. The mountains
barely visible far off on the horizon were bathed in the darkness of an
oncoming storm, and lightning played fitfully among the peaks.

	A well-worn pathway leading right up to the door made itself known at this
time when she noticed the shape of a figure trudging up said path, still
several yards distant. In the darkness of the oncoming storm an occasional
flash of a cigarette could be seen in the figures hand, punctuated on
occasion by a flash of electricity arcing through the clouds. As the
individual approached more could be made out about the person. First off
was the fact that this person was about six and a half feet of height with
long red hair tied back in a pony-tail and appeared to be of an average
girth, and was most definitely a man. When he got closer it could be seen
that he appeared to be in his mid- twenties and was wearing a hat and two
long jackets, the outer a duster, the inner a trench coat, that were made
of an odd material, his clothing too was of this material. It was solid
black, yet seemed to shimmer through the spectrum like an oil slick on
fresh tarmac, never remaining the same as he moved.

	The small audience that had gathered before the door saw the man stop on
just the other side, shrug off his jackets, give them a sound dusting,
throw them over his shoulder and, almost as an afterthought, extinguish his
cigarette on the doorframe next to a series of marks that suggested this
had been done many times before and step through. He then raised his gaze
and swept it slowly over the small group, and seemed to say, "What? Never
seen a man step through a door before?" with his eyes. 

	Those that were still observant at the time noticed that his eyes vaguely
matched his clothes, and that he had an odd, narrow spike shaped area on
his forehead that began just below his hairline and ended at the point just
between his eyebrows. It too was of the same coloration. He was also rather
blatantly western.

	Moving around the cluster of people he made his way towards the counter,
picking up a menu on the way. As he sat upon the stool at the counter he
gave a weary sigh and, unnoticed to the others, the door swung slowly shut
and, without preamble, faded from view. He then looked at the menu with
tantamount confusion, randomly selected an entr�e, and made a gesture for
two, and then waiting for the meal, he lapsed into a comptemplative
silence. The other customers gave a group shrug and returned to their seats.

	Ukyo finished cooking the meals with her usual grace and slid them down
the counter to come to a stop before the man. He nodded his thanks,
produced a set of silverware from a pocket in his jackets, and started in
on one of the dishes. 

	As the stranger ate, Ukyo watched. He seemed to have all the patience in
the world, savoring each bite as though it might be his last. At one point
he accidentally dropped a bite onto the floor and sighed. The dropped bit
then flipped up and over the counter and into the trash bin as though it
were a tiddly-wink, and the man continued to eat. Ukyo's mind did a few
backflips around the thought of "how did he do that?" and she walked over
to voice exactly that.

	"Um..." she voiced

	"Yes miss?"

	"How did you do that?"

	"Some would call it telekinesis."

	"Ah." Who is this weirdo, "And you would be?"

	"Heh, not a telekinetic," he replied with a slight grin, "call me
Arcadian, or merely Arc."

	Arc it is then. "So Arc, how did you do that, and what was with that weird
door?"

	"I'm not going to tell you."

	This guy is starting to piss me off. "And why not?" she returned with a
bit of force.

	"Are you ready to know how reality works?" he returned looking her
straight in the face with those odd eyes of his. He then stood up and
placed five silver coins on the counter, shrugged on his jackets, and
headed towards the door of the establishment. As he passed through the door
he called over his shoulder, "good evening, Kuonji Ukyo..."

	All sense left and once again forgot to turn out the lights.

******

	The park is generally a peaceful place at midnight, what with most people
home asleep. However at this time we see Arcadian sitting on a bench. He
mutters to himself in english and occasionally looks up to the stars.

	Another figure staggers into the park under load of a backpack and notices
a brief flash of fire from Arcadian lighting a cigarette, and approaches.

	He speaks with a slight tone of despair in his voice, "Which way to the
Tendo Dojo?"

	"I'm not sure friend, I've only been here for a few hours. Sit down and
take a load off." 

	"Hibiki Ryoga," Ryoga says by way of introduction as he sits down.

	"Arcadian, nice to meet you." Arcadian says finishing the age-old ritual.
"What brings you here at this hour?"

	"Eh heh... I don't have the worlds greatest sense of direction." Ryoga
replies while nervously scratching the back of his head.

	"Happens to the best of us, friend. Let's go find a bar, the world can wait."

	"But I..."

	"As I said, the world can wait, it has for untold millennia, it can wait a
few more hours."

	And so the lost boy and a wandering soul went in search of a bar, and one
succeeded beyond his wildest dreams...

******

	Ryoga, with the aid of Genma and Soun, who they had found at the bar they
ended up in, were recounting old escapades that they had been involved in.
Admittedly there was an unprecedented amount of exaggeration in the tales,
but alcohol has a tendency of doing that. Arcadian was looking around the
bar with a grin plastered on his face as though someone had just told him
he'd been elected king of the world. The flame of the candle he had pulled
from a pocket earlier would occasionally flicker and assume the shape of a
dragon or a flower or anything in between. He was in love.

	"Boy's," he stated interrupting the flow of the tale, "I have just broken
a fundamental law of the universe."

	"And what's that son?" asked a slightly bleary Soun.

	"Never fall in love with a bar."

	Genma chuckled, "Too true."

	"I'll be right back." And with that Arcadian got up and strode toward the
bar with great purpose.

******
Interlude One
******

	he pencil moved across the sheet of paper in uneven strokes, and the sound
of a poorly played guitar wafts in from elsewhere in the apartment. The
lead of the pencil snapped from irritation, a miniature, yet still
accurate, knell of doom. With intent movements the writer moves over to the
closet and pulls from it a large red wiffle bat with the words "No Gravity"
emblazoned on the side and then leaves the room. From elsewhere several
sharp thwacks, a few flat thumps, the sound of an acoustic guitar being
bent in angles it was never intended to, and a low thud can be heard. The
writer returns, drops the now bloodied wiffle bat, and sits to write:

	"Once he reached the bar...

******
End Interlude
******

	Once he reached the bar Arcadian asked to see the owner.

	"That would be me sir, is there something the matter?"

	"Not at all, I'd like to buy your bar," Arcadian said with great
seriousness and a grin that would frighten a raving lunatic.

	The owner was somewhat taken aback. "I... I think you've have to much to
drink, sir."

	With a slight rustle of cloth and what can only be considered a dull clang
Arcadian placed five large dull silver metal bars on the bar-top. "Do you
think this would be enough?"

	"What are those?"

	"Platinum," Arc said with a slight grin.

	"I think that will do quite nicely sir," the owner said in a small voice.
"We'll do the paperwork tomorrow then?"

	"I'll be here, and for now I'll take a bottle of your finest whiskey." And
with that he left the owner to deal with the bar and returned to the
martial arts trio that was looking at him with some confusion.

	He sat at the table and with a flourish filled four glasses from the newly
acquired bottle. Sliding the bottle to the center of the table and lifting
one of the glasses he motioned for the others to do the same. "Boy's," he
said, "drink up, you're looking at a happy man." The debauchery lasted
quite a while.

******

	Ranma sighed, breaking the silence at Tendo hall. It was a sigh that mixed
elements of satisfaction and boredom. The reasons were many: no new martial
artists had showed up trying to kill him or marry him, (or the occasional
one that wanted both), Shampoo hadn't been seen for several days, the same
with Mousse, (though in a way this should have worried him), Ukyo was busy
working, Ryoga was gods knew where, the Tendo daughters were all off doing
there own thing, and his father and Mr. Tendo were off getting drunk. This
meant no one was bothering him, this also meant there was nothing to do.
Looking at the clock he saw that it was approaching eleven, and with a
feeling of disgust at the world in general he decided to see if there was a
late night movie on. About halfway through a movie he found that wasn't
boring him to pieces, sleep claimed him, and eventually, he dreamed.

	He was surrounded. Everyone he had ever "wronged", whether by intention or
accident, was slowly closing in on him, many he recognized, and most he
didn't. At first he tired to bargain his way out and eventually he tried to
fight, but there were to many and they were closing in on him like a noose.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see a man standing about ten feet off
the ground that seemed to be robed in an oil slick made solid. He tried to
call out for help, tried to escape, but he was buried under a mountain and
the only sound was that of his tortured screams.

	He awoke with a start and quickly took stock of the situation. It was
morning, a Thursday, if he recalled correctly, and the sounds of a city
awakening wafted in through the walls, and he could hear Kasumi cooking
breakfast in the kitchen. He decided to go out to the courtyard to enjoy
the morning since his father probably would not be up to sparring this
morning. Once outside he lay back on the grass that was still moist from
dew and breathed in the morning air, letting it relax him. He had almost
dozed off again in the sunlight when he heard a metallic flick from nearby.
Moving nothing but his eyes he quickly scanned the area and saw the
culprit. Sitting up in the cherry tree was a man with long red hair that
was tied back and was wearing blue jeans and a tee shirt, who was calmly
smoking a cigarette and watching the dawn. Deciding to find out what was
going on he called out to the man.

	"Eh?" was the reply he received.

	"I said what are you doing in our tree."

	"Watching the dawn."

	"That doesn't answer my question."

	"Ah... yes," said the man and then he calmly climbed down and walked up to
Ranma. "You must be Ranma. I met your father and Mr. Tendo last night at a
bar, and seeing as I had no where else to go for the night, they let Ryoga
and me crash here. I'm Arcadian."

	"Nice to meet you I suppose, so where's Ryoga, I could use a workout."

	"Probably somewhere nursing a hangover like your father and Tendo."

	"Oh. How about you, do you fight?"

	"Heh, not really, I'm more of one to defend."

	"What do you mean?"

	"Let's spar and find out," Arcadian replied and flicked his cig over the
wall.

	With that Ranma walked away a couple yards and assumed a loose stance and
Arcadian merely stood where he was looking indifferent.

	"Ready?" asked Ranma.

	"Whenever you are," came the reply.

	I'll go easy on him at first, see how skilled he is thought Ranma as he
leapt in with a small series of punches and pushed Arcadian back three
steps, but none connected. He pressed the attack and still his target kept
just out of reach. Getting a bit frustrated at not hitting his target he
increased his speed and varied his attacks yet still he just couldn't get
the range necessary to hit. This kept up for several minutes with Ranma
continuing to increase his speed and Arcadian continuing to flow back out
of range. Ranma then flipped over Arcadian's head and managed to land a
punch that staggered his opponent forward. Arcadian quickly spun around to
meet another attack and just smiled and pointed down. They were both
standing on the surface of the koi pond.

	Ranma's mind boggled. "What the..." was all he got out and into the pond
he went. Arcadian then walked over to the edge of the pond and pulled out a
wet Ranma-chan.

	"And now breakfast should be ready," he said.

	"Breakfast!" called out Kasumi and was followed shortly by three groans
from throughout the house.

	"How... how did you do that?" asked Ranma-chan with a slightly incredulous
look on her face.

	Straightening into a sagely posture and adopting a similar accent Arcadian
said, "ancient Chinese secret." And then seeing the expression on
Ranma-chan's features he amended in a normal tone of voice, "just kidding,
all in good time lad, all in good time."

	When they entered they saw Nabiki and Akane looking at their father, Genma
and Ryoga, who all looked like the came out of a package of instant death
that was left in the microwave too long. Kasumi then entered carrying the
last of the food and set it down on the table. Noticing that they had
another guest she smiled and said, "good morning, I don't believe we've met."

	Ah, everyone," Soun said before Arcadian could speak, and wincing slightly
at the volume of his voice, "this is Arcadian, the new owner of the
establishment that Saotome and I visited last night. Arcadian, this is
Kasumi, Nabiki and Akane," he pointed to each in turn, "and I see you've
already met Ranma. Come, join us for breakfast."

	"Nice to meet you all, but I really should be going, that "establishment"
is going to have a bit of paperwork for me to do if I'm to have my grand
opening tonight. However I would like to invite you all to come by later,
and invite everyone you know. And as a side note, I'd advise you three," he
continued, pointing to the hangover trio, "to take some aspirin and drink a
lot of water. Good day." With that Arcadian left the family to their
breakfast, collected boots, jackets and hat from near the door, and left.

	"My what a polite man," observed Kasumi.

	"There's somethin' strange about that guy..." muttered Ranma to himself,
he then shrugged and ate with a little more gusto than usual.

******

	Shortly thereafter Kasumi and Akane left to do some shopping and extend
the invitation, and Nabiki left to conduct some business, (which at the
moment entailed finding out who this Arcadian person was), which left the
two parents, Ryoga and Ranma up to their own devices.

A couple hours later Ryoga was sitting on the porch overlooking the yard.
He was relatively happy considering his normal mood. He had made it to the
dojo days ahead of when he had expected to, he was invited to the opening
later, and most importantly at the moment, his hangover was gone. He even
felt like being nice to Ranma... well... maybe, but for right now he was
just going to soak in the warm summer sun, especially since if he didn't
move, he couldn't get lost.

	Ranma had spent the time since breakfast on the roof. He was also
sunbathing, but that wasn't on purpose. He was wondering how the hell
Arcadian and he were standing on the pond earlier, and had come up with a
few ideas. A few of those ideas could work, in theory at least, but most of
them were downright ludicrous. He decided to put a few of them to the test
and leapt down by the pond. He looked at it curiously, and tried to
carefully step out onto the surface. Failure for idea one, all he had to
show for his efforts was a wet foot, okay, onto idea two. He hopped back a
few feet and ran full tilt across the surface of the pond. He stopped on
the other side of the pond with a squish. Partial success, he hadn't sank,
but he hadn't stood on the pond either, (plus he now had two wet feet). He
continued trying variations and spontaneous ideas until he ended up
splashing completely under.

	Ryoga watched as Ranma continued despite that he was now a she. This is
funny, Ryoga thought, what's he trying to do, be Jesus or something. He
stood up and walked over towards Ranma after a particularly spectacular
splash and helped her out.

	"What're you doing Ranma?"

	"Trying to stand on the pond," she replied.

	"Ah. Why?" he asked while chuckling to himself.

	"That guy and I were sparring this morning and I just couldn't hit him,
eventually I managed to hit him once and then he just smiled and pointed
down and we were standing on the pond..." she explained, and Ryoga's
eyebrow hitched up a bit, "and then I fell in."

	"Let me get this straight, you were on the pond, realized it, then fell in?"

	"Yeah, I was figurin' if I could figure it out, I'd hafta worry about the
pond and the canal a whole lot less."

	"Mind if I give it a try?"

	"Go ahead, I'll go get the kettle."

	Over by the dojo Genma and Soun were playing shogi while all this was
going on.
	
	"I sometimes wonder about those two, Saotome."

	"So do I, Tendo, your move."

******

	Manami Kyoko, the "second in command" walked back into the kitchen to talk
to her new boss. In her opinion the man seemed a little off, not
necessarily a bad thing, but with the way he would look at someone with
those weird eyes of his, it sort of unnerved her. What was her old boss
thinking when he sold the place out of the blue? She gave the kitchen a
quick once-over and the only thing she found "out-of-place" was her boss's
jackets hanging in the corner. Walking over to the corner she examined said
jackets, wondering at the material.

	"Find something you like," came a voice from behind her.

	"GAH!" was all she could reply as she spun around with a guilty look on
her face.

	Arcadian smacked himself in the forehead and asked, "I did it again didn't
I?"

	Kyoko nodded weakly and stated, "yes Mr. Arcadian." He had seemingly
appeared behind her three times already today.

	"Please, just call me Arc, after all, "Mister" and "Arcadian" don't go
together very well. You had something to ask?"

	"Yes, the crew and I were wondering when these "guests" of yours that you
mentioned were showing up."

	"Well, lessee, according to that clock on yonder wall it's now five, and
factoring in other random occurrences, the Tendo's, the Saotomes' and any
other stragglers should be here... um... later I suppose," said Arc with a
shrug. "And tell the crew not to worry, they may be reputed for causing
mass destruction, but just wear your new aprons and don't worry, things are
under control."

	"OK, if you say so..." said Kyoko with a slightly doubtful look. "Where
are the new aprons anyway?" 

	"Right, haven't given them to you yet, be right back." With that he walked
out of the kitchen and by the sound of things was rummaging around behind
the bar. Where had he gotten that bar anyway, Kyoko mused, whoever heard of
a giant fish-tank for a bar, it was pretty, yes, but weird like her new
boss. Arc then wandered back in and handed her five aprons cut from the
same material as his jackets, that same odd solid oil-slick pattern, and
with "Arcadian's Bar & Grill" embroidered on the left breast. "With these
on you and your crew should be fine."

	"How will these help?" she asked looking rather perplexed.

	"See my jackets?" he asked pointing over her shoulder. At her nod he
pulled a throwing knife from behind his back and handed it to her, hilt
first, and continued with a slight grin, "throw the knife at them."

	Not seeing the point, but wanting to humor her new boss, she complied and
pitched the knife end over end at her target. At about two feet from its
target arcs of electricity leaped from the jacket vaporizing the knife. She
was impressed, confused almost the point of shock, but still impressed. She
managed to force out a weak, "W-w-what happened?"

	"Just a little "force field"," said Arcadian, fingering the quotes,
"nothing to worry about. Now, I have a few errands to run, I should be back
in about an hour." He walked over and pulled on his jackets and walked out,
leaving Kyoko standing in a daze.

	"Who the hell is that guy?" she muttered to herself, "And when did we get
a coat tree back here?" With a shrug she turned to go out to the main room
and as she reached the door she stopped and with the look of a man, or more
accurately, woman, hunted, looked back where the jackets had been hanging. 

	There was no coat tree, or even hooks on the wall...

******
Interlude Two
******

	Speaking to himself quietly in english, Arcadian looks down from where he
is perched on the edge of the bridge, into the calmly flowing waters of the
canal. Thunder strikes off in the far distance portending one of three things:

	"One, an approaching storm," he says to himself, but there are no clouds
in the sky.
 	
	"Two, Kuno is out and about today and he ran into Ranma," he amends as he
looks to the sky for people appearing to fly under their own power. Nope.

	"Three� something worse than all the Kunos in the world, and I don't want
to think of that�"

	He hops down and wanders off towards his new "home," thinking about things
that could, things that should, and things that should not be, and where he
could get a good cup of Darjeeling tea.

******
End Interlude
******

******
End Chapter One
******



Author's notes:

Thanks to one Pat Olsen for comments on the beginning bit of this chapter.

Additional: This is a "self-insertion." In here I can merely do some cool
stuff, and am by no means a "god," but in later chapters this should be
explained. And yes, I -am- about six and a half feet tall. Manami Kyoko is
as far as I know my own creation.

Additional additional: This may end up being a longer story than I thought
it would be at the start, but soon I hope to get Arcadian out of the
spotlight and get the characters that are supposed to be the spotlight back
under it. Just doing intro stuff.

Additional^3: Watch for falling cameos� You have been warned.

	Thankee-sai
	
	JR
	Crater Corps. Chairman
	mailto:Arcadian@plazma.net
	http://www.plazma.net/users/arcadian/
	Psychosis & Grill Press
	http://www.plazma.net/users/arcadian/P&G/