The speaker was a tall, thin man with graying black hair. His light green eyes studied her and the Cafe with barely-concealed intensity. Dressed in a black hooded robe with tiny silver stars and crescent moons, he looked like a graduate from the Obi-Wan Kenobi Fashion School.
"My name is Peregrine," he introduced himself, and held out a hand.
"Seraph," she answered, shaking his hand firmly.
The smile transformed his saturnine, almost expressionless features, making him look years younger. "A good name."

Peregrine was the avatar of a fanfic writer. S/he apparently retired for no discernible reason, leaving him to wander Subreality for some time until he was hired as the Cafe's manager. He's serious, methodical and courteous, but not the sort of person you'd want to cross -- think of him, if you will, as a combination of Raistlin (Dragonlance) and Ingold Inglorion (Barbara Hambly's Darwath novels). He takes care of the administrative duties and leaves the social side to Hank, rarely interacting with the patrons. He's only called in by the Cafe's staff as a last resort if the problem is beyond their capacity to solve. Other than that, don't bother this guy. The old adage about not interfering in the affairs of wizards apply. ;)

A ruckus from the assembled Writers caught their attention. A blue-furred and tuxedo-clad man had appeared out of nowhere, landing in the middle of a table. Some Writers, typing away at their laptops, were clearly the cause.
"I see that the Assistant Manager has just arrived."

Also The Genius Mutant Otherwise Known As Hank. :) Henry McCoy, as most of us are aware of, is a member of the X-Men. The Writer's Cafe version has all the intellect, strength, and blue-furred cuteness, plus an extra helping of charm to smooth away all the little humps and bumps that comes with large consumptions of alcohol and madness. While in the Cafe, he constantly wears a white tuxedo and can usually be found chatting with the Writers or catering to those not sitting at the bar. Hank manages the social side of the Cafe's administration, as well as Peregrine's right hand man. His more cheery nature plays off well against the Manager's faintly menacing air, and together they make a good team.

There was a commotion at the door, and a woman stepped inside. Seraph glanced at her briefly noting her appearance, blond hair, worn 40's style to her shoulders, a slim, small frame, wearing a tailor-made blouse and 40's style skirt, both in green. The most unusual thing about her, though, was her six arms.
She glanced around the Café and focused on Seraph, walking over she held out one hand. "Hi, Mary Shiva, I'm your new bartender. Falstaff told me you were looking."

As provided by Falstaff:
Mary Shiva is a private eye in 1940s Los Angeles. It's an LA transformed; sort of filled with magic and witches and other such things. She has six arms, and it's from this she draws her name. She has a suitable Mysterious Past; but she's basically a typical hard-boiled private eye. She has an off-and-on relationship with Mike Jenner, the counterman at her favorite greasy-spoon diner. She carries a gun -- a silver- plated Luger -- but has never used it and doesn't much want to.

Note: Mary Shiva is not public domain, nor was she created solely for the purpose of the Cafe. She's copyrighted to Falstaff, so treat her accordingly.

"I heard you had a job openin'," said the small boy.
Seraph started for a second and then looked closer. She hadn't been seeing things. It really was Pinocchio. "Ahhh, well...we're kinda looking for someone a bit more..."
"Listen here, I may be small and made out of wood. I may be stuck at eight years old. But *nobody* messes with the guy with the nose."
Seraph raised an eyebrow. "What's to stop people from simply walking over you?"
Pinocchio smiled, "Listen, doll, I've got my secrets and that's one of 'em. Lets just say -- ain't nobody gonna walk over this little wooden boy."

The Pinocchio beloved of generations of Disney-watching children, given a noir-ish twist. Think of your typical touch-talking, tough-hitting mook, and you have Subreality's first wooden Bouncer. Despite being the size of a child, Pinocchio is more than capable of kicking out a stubborn Fictive or an unruly Writer... or both.

"JUPITER OAK EVOLUTION!"
Lightning crackled across the sky, blinding any unwary observers. The boom of thunder had just faded when a voice rose up from the door, concern evident in the dulcet tones.
"I'm SO sorry! Instincts just took over... I'll make you triple choc fudge brownies to make up for it, okay? Here, let me help."
A singed Jesse made his way back into the Writer's Cafe, supported by a tall brunette in a sailor outfit. Her wide green eyes surveyed the assembled Writers warily but confidently, lingering a little on Seraph's wings.
"Hi, I'm Sailor Jupiter. I'm here for the cook's job?"

As part of the Sailor Senshi, eighteen years-old Makoto Kino is Sailor Jupiter. She represents the element of wood, and (obviously) the planet Jupiter. Her attacks are mostly lightning/electricity-based, so annoy her and get the shock of your life... literally. ;) She's physically the strongest Senshi, and yet probably the most nurturing. Makoto's also a great cook, able to whip up practically any dish. The Cafe version is not so obsessed on being the ideal housewife/mother, but she's still a perfectionist about her work as a cook.

Then a tall elderly man in a tux walked in. He asked in an English Accent, "Excuse me ma'am is this the Writer's Cafe?"
Maria nodded and asked, "Are you here for the janitor's job?"
"Why yes ma'am. My name is Alfred Pennyworth. I am from the Batman fan fiction."
"Which one?"
Alfred looked down in shame, "The one with Adam West in it."

Servant, confidante, and friend, Alfred is the archetypical gentleman's gentleman. As the janitor, he's responsible for the cleanliness of the Writer's Cafe, and does it with an air of old world dignity that eclipses Peregrine. That said, if you're in any way responsible for making a mess in the Cafe... beware of the man with the broom. ;)