(Abandoned Prologue for Drunkard's Walk V)

His current form was small and black-furred, but that didn't fool 
any of the Others at the Well.  It was, after all, nothing more 
than a symbol, just as everything else around and of Them was 
symbols.  They knew what lay behind it; some were comfortable 
with it, and some were not.

The Place that They were in was a convenient embodiment of 
certain multidimensional constants and functions.  Each of Them 
had their own preferred metaphor, but when They came together, as 
They had done quite frequently of late, a single common set of 
imagery was far easier to deal with than a welter of conflicting 
paradigms.  In a nearly infinitely more complex way, it was much 
like the virtual spaces most of the four-dimensional races built 
for themselves once their data-processing technologies reached 
sufficient complexity.

Only very, very different.

Much the same was true of the forms which They chose to take in
this common space.  Four-dimensionals still following the data
processing metaphor would call them avatars.  

Four-dimensionals following an even older metaphor would call 
them avatars, too.  But for different reasons.

This particular avatar -- whichever meaning of the word one 
prefers -- was in the form of a small, black cat.  And He was 
wondering if it was time once again to cross someone's path.

It had been a little too long since He'd had some fun.

The Pool around which They congregated was also a metaphor, as 
was the Machine near it, but the metaphor was a tool, and a tool 
was to be used.  The Being that appeared to be a black cat was 
using it.  Others watched.

In the pool was an image of an unconcious leather-clad man 
strapped to a motorcycle.  Both were grey, a faint contrast 
against the empty white nothing of the Void Between Worlds.  The 
cat-that-wasn't flicked a claw through the metaphorical sand that 
ringed the metaphorical pool, and sent a single grain into liquid 
that was not water (nor, strictly speaking, even liquid).  A tiny 
circular ripple appeared -- not in the surface of the pool, but 
in the white nothingness in front of the man and the motorcycle. 
The ripple expanded as ripples do, its edges becoming rainbow-
colored even as its center turned pitch-black.

The man and motorcycle plunged into its heart, and vanished from
sight.

"You have sent him..." began One whose voice was as the chiming
of bells.  She sounded ever-so-faintly cross, which to those who
knew Her was a warning sign of most terrible import.

The cat turned to Her and grinned in a way that mere four-
dimensional cats cannot.  "I've sent him to Paradox's incubator."

"That's not a nice way to describe that Earth, Elder."  She 
frowned disapprovingly at the cat.

"That timeline is quarantined until Niichan comes into his full 
power!" objected a smaller figure who spake as a child in the 
bloom of wisdom.

The cat glanced at this other and raised an eyebrow.  "'Niichan'?"

The Child blushed.

"I was bored, and young Paradox needs a kick in the pants," the 
cat declared.  "Besides, I have a special dispensation.  (Not
that I needed it)," he added, sotto voce.

"To the Abyss with dispensation!" the Third declared in Her 
sultry voice.  "We promised the Stormsdaughter that we would not 
interfere further in Sangnoir's life.  And here you drop him into 
the laps of our chosen incarnations!  Would you make of us 
oathbreakers?"

"How are you oathbreakers?  *You* didn't do anything.  *I* did it 
all."  He flicked his tail insouciantly.  "Your lesser selves 
there -- and Paradox's core -- will be able to handle him, see if 
they don't."  Then the cat's eyes narrowed and he smiled at them 
slyly.  "After all, she asked you just to 'Butt the hell out,' 
and you have.  You're not breaking that promise if he suddenly 
shows up on your doorstep."

"You split hairs too finely, Elder," the First said softly.

The cat shrugged.  "I have my reasons.  Besides, I'm thinking of 
marking him as one of my champions.  Chaos in the service of Law 
with a twisted sense of humor?  He's one of mine, all right!"

"Does that mean you'll be inserting there to advise him?" the
Child asked, grinning at him.

"Are you serious, Maiden of the Raven Hair?"  The cat seemed 
almost taken aback.  "Not even on a Bet!"