The Universe's Mixer

Carmen was two weeks away, and Erik had yet to cast certain minor roles. His orchestra was prepared and had begun learning the part -- all but one. Hannibal Lecter had yet to be told what was next after La Traviata.

Today was a strange day. Erik kept looking out the window of his office, expecting to see an overcast sky -- it felt like it should be darker out. But as always, the City shined brightly in its perpetual May pleasantness. Strange, this place. Strange, that his fancy should wander to weather, of all things!

With the score in one hand and a pad of scrawled notes in the other, the opera house manager bent over his work again. By now, the sun was sliding down toward the horizon, and practice was beginning on stage. Erik never watched the first day of any practice; it was far too painful to endure, and best left to his maestros to handle. As he waited for his assistant to return with his favored pianist, Erik began sketching out the direction for Act II.

A now-familiar shooting pain traveled down his left arm. He only rotated his shoulder and grunted at it, too busy with his notes to stop now. It had been a week since his return from "composing" and he still felt exhausted. But there was music, and there was his opera house, and that was worth pressing on.

(Note: Adult content warning - smexy stuffs)

Enigma glanced around the small, out of the way cafe, making sure Erik or anyone associated with him wasn't there, before she lowered the hood of her black velvet cloak, crossing the room to where Bruce sat, pulling off the heavy material to reveal her clothes.

She had slipped out of the mansion to meet her roommate of sorts and hadn't had time to change out of the clothing she wore around Erik and into her more...normal attire, and was highly worried as to how Bruce would react to this version of her, still not used to being so cleaned up and polished as compared to the super slut Bruce knew well.

She took a seat across from him signaling for the waitress, giving Bruce a hesitant smile. “Thanks for meeting me here, it's getting harder to escape from Erik's watchful eye.” She still hadn't confessed she was fully healed, but had a suspicion she was going to have to soon, considering the looks Erik kept giving her when she did something she shouldn't have been able to in her previously weak state.

Far too soon, she was going to be booted back to the lake house while Christine cozied up to her man.

Dinah stood in front of the asylum, staring up at it in silence while she tried to psych herself up to enter. She had heard rumors about the asylum's reopening. Rumors that the Joker was now a patient here. Rumors that there was a new doctor in town.

She didn't like this place. In fact, she hated this place. Memories of being held against her will and drugged up were nothing compared to memories of how she'd found Jake here. Memories of wanting to kill the Joker and hesitating because Jake-Jake was in the room and she couldn't cross that line. Not with her son watching.

Memories of all that had happened in the months when Jake had been missing, and of everything that had come out in the months when he'd been recovering after the fact.

She hated this place, but she wouldn't let that keep her from doing her job.

Perhaps she could have brought Dean or Zoe or Oliver. Maybe she should have. But this return to Arkham was something she had to do on her own. She wasn't sure why exactly, but she knew that she had to face this on her own.

She wasn't wearing her fishnets today. She wasn't even wearing her other, slightly less revealing costume. Maybe she would have felt better if she had one of the costumes, but she was visiting in broad daylight and it would be better to be less conspicuous. Which meant normal clothes and a cover story. If Crane was indeed here, he would most likely recognize her. But if he wasn't, well, then she would at least have a chance of getting her information and leaving without trouble.

She finally found her courage and entered the building. Once inside, she made a beeline for the receptionist desk and asked to see Dr. Crane. She was most definitely hoping that all she received in response was a blank, confused look.

Bruce was finally out of his room, having been feeling rather low as of late, needing the fresh air and the change of scenery. The night was being good to him, as well, offering a full moon, bright stars and a mild breeze which teased at his clothes and hair in a capricious manner, causing him to smile a little at the very thought of being blown away. That would never happen, of course, especially since now he felt more like an anchor than anything. He had nothing to fear but himself, and maybe that was more frightening than anything in the history of the world. He wasn't exactly sure. He knew he'd yet to meet anything any more frightening than himself as of yet. And then there was the thought in the back of his mind about what Dinah said that day in the library. Vampires? Was that true? He was still undecided. She had seemed serious enough, and she seemed to know things about this city that he would probably come to know in time. However it still puzzled him. Did they really exist? It couldn't be scientifically true.

He walked slowly down a back alleyway, trying to remember his way back to the warehouse, as it was getting late. The prototype of his new watch needed to be finished as it was near completion, he just hasn't felt like working on it as of late. He had given Dinah his other gps watch, figuring she might find it more useful. He was a smart man, he would find his way back. He could've had a car if he'd wanted one, but he was afraid of being enclosed in such a small space surrounded by metal. That was never a good combination. He wasn't exactly sure if he would ever drive, fly or sail, but at the present time that meant little to him. There were more important things.

He wore khaki colored slacks, which had a hidden stretchy band on the inside, a purple button up shirt that was only fastened to right at the clavicle, and a pair of soft soled loafers. He hadnt really had a need for tighter fitting clothes until he'd run into Enigma and moved into her place. It seemed only right that he remained decent looking and not like a homeless caveman, which is what he did look like until the night Enigma found him. He was grateful to her.

Now he needed to find his way back, and the hour was drawing later and later, and he was tired from being tired. He was tired of a lot of things, but some o those were very much out of his control.

He continued along the alley, making no sound against the concrete, watching a small cat scurry around a dumpster, as if it were afraid. It should be. Poor kitty.