The Universe's Mixer

Click.

Edward sighed as he lifted one of his golden revolvers up to level, an eye aiming carefully down the sight. It was a task that came second nature, he had been firing weapons for as long as he could remember. Even before Effie had been born.

"Hold still..." Eddie grumbled.

A stifled giggle came from the other end of the gun. There, stood a tall, stocky man with pale skin cracked from age and worn from the trials of life. His lips were pulled tightly into his own mouth, teeth pressed hard into the skin. The man tasted blood, the sweet, coppery tang of essence as he tried desperately to bite back another giggle.

"Damned patients..." Eddie breathed.

Atop the man's head was a beer stein made of glass, a green question mark painted on the front in bright green.

A flex of the man's fingers and he shivered, causing the glass to teeter from side to side with the motion.

"I said...hold....still..." Eddie barked.

The sharpness, like a poke in the back, caused the man in the jumpsuit finally to giggle out loudly.

Then the air fell silent mid laugh as the crack came from the revolver. The sound of shattering glass resonated through the grounds and a loud smacking thud followed.

Eddie lowered his gun, looked down at the mess and shrugged. "I told you to hold still, stupid."

Then Eddie grinned and looked around, "Who wants to play next?"

Nobody paid any attention to the large black bird that soared overhead. It wasn't an uncommon sight, nobody thought it odd or out of place. Just a normal bird.

Even if this place was far from normal.

Everything hurt. Arya felt as though she'd been stomped by a horse and then thrown from a tall tree for good measure. Her head felt fuzzy. She groaned and opened her eyes, only to freeze immediately. This was no room that she was familiar with. It was beautiful. It made her think of Sansa and how much she would have loved a room like this. Her heart clenched and for a moment that hurt more than everything else.

Then it came back to her. Being somewhere new, being hit by--whatever it was--and being picked up by the strange man. Erik. Was this his house? Was there a maester here? Or a doctor? Whatever they called themselves? Whatever had happened between the morphene last night and waking up now, she couldn't just lie here until someone saw to her. Even if this place was safe, she knew nothing about it. Sliding out of the bed (and what a wonderfully soft bed it was--she'd never had a bed so soft as this) she limped painfully over to the fireplace, grabbing a poker. It would serve as a better crutch than Needle would, though she feared that she would be unable to use either as a weapon given how much it hurt to do so much as take a deep breath.

Arya made her way to the door and found it unlocked. She limped down the hall, her splinted leg and the makeshift crutch making it impossible to be sneaky.