The Universe's Mixer

"No nononononono!" Jack shouted as he ran down the hallway. The staff weren't really very good at predicting his moods or what he would do and when he would do it. They constantly underestimated him, and more than occasionally believed him when he pretended to be catatonic. They would baby him sometimes when he babbled at them. He was kept in a straight jacket when they were at their best and most wary, but it wasn't often enough. His escapes from his room and their immediate care were many. But he never tried to escape the grounds.

Because this was his place. He'd owned it. He'd held a court here. He'd tormented the entire City with this as his home base. He didn't want to leave it. And having a whole bunch of people around just made it all the more fun for him. So he didn't want them to go either. Jack was really quite happy with the way that things were going. He even loved the games he played with the doctors, nurses, and orderlies. Well, truthfully, he loved those most.

Currently, the man known as The Joker was running down the corridor of the second level, heading toward the elevator or stairs, whichever would be quickest, and determined to get to the commons. He wanted to spend time with some of the other patients. See if he could get somebody riled up maybe. Insight a food fight, perhaps. Or just make somebody cry. He wasn't sure of his plan just yet.

Currently, the man known as The Joker was wearing a straight jacket, his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. He could feel the straps on the back that held the pieces of the jacket in place. He could hear the jingle of the buckles. He wouldn't be able to get out of it, he knew that. Not on his own. But maybe he could convince one of the others to help him. Promise them something. Even if it wasn't something that he could give.

Currently, the man known as The Joker was running down the hallway in a straight jacket and he had on no pants. They'd been helping him get ready for the shower when he'd broken free. Leaving the jacket on for the last possible moment. He'd slipped right by them then. They hadn't expected him to run around with no pants on, apparently. Jack didn't care. Sort of freeing, this not having any pants on.

There were three burly orderlies chasing him at the moment. He kept looking back at them to gauge the distance before they'd spring and tackle him to the floor. That was going to hurt. Probably a lot. Probably on parts of himself that he was going to wish he had pants covering.

"Nononononono!" Jack yelped, a large smile on his face. "Help! Somebody! Help! I need pants! Help! They took my pants!"

He whizzed by patients in wheelchairs, people coming to the doors of their rooms, confused nurses, and shocked doctors. He stuck his foot out at a guy with a walker, sending him sprawling and detaining the orderlies for a split second while they tried to decide if they should help the guy or go after Jack. It was just enough for him to get to the elevator which was just closing.

Jack turned and smiled at the other occupant. It wasn't quite a friendly smile.

Coming back to the warehouse after blowing up her castle wasn’t as upsetting as some might think. Yeah, Harl had liked having all the fancy things and people to order around, but it got a little boring after a while. They expected a queen to do things, and she really preferred to do her own thing her own way. Freedom was more priceless than any gem.

( Of course, that didn’t mean she hadn’t swiped some crown jewels as she went. )

Crowley stood at the base of the castle with an expression on his face that might have been interpreted as a smile were it on anyone else. On him it just appeared predatory. In a way, he supposed, it was. This castle, this entire experience was like prey to him. He and Elle had come here with the explicit purpose of causing trouble. Big trouble. Epic trouble.

( They were going to take on a building whose base was strong. )

Harley draped herself over the throne casually. As though it was every day she sat on an actual throne. In a throne room. ( In her very own castle! )

Harley had been happily strolling down the street, window shopping… okay, casing a few places for later. Because really, why buy when you could steal? And there was a hot little number she wanted to pick up to model for her Puddin’ later. Red, short, flirty. Just like her.

So there she’d been, strolling along, minding her own business when it hit her. ( BAM! )

Liz was bored. Not a lot had been going on with The Ghostbusters, and although Liz appreciated having the job, she wished there was more excitement.

She lit a cigarette as she stepped down the apartment stairs to head to work. She liked smoking while she walked, but to be perfectly honest, she liked to smoke while she did almost everything.

One thing that she had noticed was that her powers seemed to be more under control here in The City. Nothing seemed to make the fire want to burn, not unless she told her powers that it was time. She liked that. She felt like she had more freedom when her powers were under control.

She strolled down the street, not paying any attention to where she was going.

Charlie was feeling pretty good as he woke up that morning. He had a free scoop of ice cream out there waiting for him; it might have been a silly thing to be happy about, but how often did one get a free scoop of ice cream from a young lady? Not that he thought about her in such terms that might get him arrested, but she was a nice young lady; too many young men and women these days had problems with authority. Charlie had problems with authority, but it was of a different nature.

The detective showered, smiling the whole while, got ready for the day (clothes and such - no shoes yet), and went down to have his usual breakfast - some sort of fruit. He was curious to see what the City would bring to him; as he opened the door to the refrigerator, he took a moment to realize that he was happy. Happiness wasn't a bad thing, but he was happy in a prison. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the cool whiteness with what looked to be a couple fruits that didn't come from Earth at all. He was happy in a prison?

"I could be happy anywhere, or content. A prison is only in the mind. The world is not a prison unless I make it so." His voice took on that singsongy nature that he'd heard on the tapes, but it held questions. Was this true? Could he make a prison a place of content?

"I should find someone and discuss this. Wish Reese were here. Perhaps Jennifer?"

It was always the same.

Harl, do this. Harl, do that. Clean all the dead zombie bodies out of the courtyard, Harl. Feed the hyenas, Harl. Where’s my acid-spewing squirty flower, Harl. Get me the TV Guide, Harl. Make me a sandwich, Harl. Have you seen my spinny bow-tie, Harl. I need the triple set of carburetors out of an L69 engine of a 1966 Oldsmobile 442, Harl.

( It was wonderful. )

As days went, these were beautiful ones. The sun was warm, but not hot enough that Firekeeper felt that shedding clothing was necessary, or Blind Seer like sleeping in the shade was an overwhelming need. Neither of them saw the use of being indoors or roaming the City, where the concrete and asphalt absorbed and amplified heat, so to the park they went.

They slept in their den under the bridge when the sun was too hot for Blind Seer's thick coat, chased rabbits and deer, and generally had a good time loosing themselves in being wolves. Blind Seer was glad to be someplace where he wasn't crushed by humanity; Firekeeper was relieved to not have to act like a human all the time.

This particular afternoon, they took out their good spirits on each other by wrestling, a time-honored pastime of wolves everywhere. "You're holding back," Firekeeper accused Blind Seer, wiping sweat from her eyes with a battered arm.

He panted, giving her an innocent look. "Of course not."

She snorted. "Liar. You have spent too long with the two-legs, to learn their habits."

He growled a challenge back. "Perhaps if Little Two-legs would give this her full effort--"

Firekeeper interrupted whatever Blind Seer was about to respond with by leaping at him with a growl of her own. Soon enough they were laughing as they wrestled, but to an outsider, all that could be discerned of their fun was a very large wolf and a bruised and slightly bloody girl attacking each other.

After her mysterious love affair in the park, Tink finally got her mind to right, or at least the parts that were right to begin with. Right for fae is very different from right for the vast majority of other creatures in the world or in any world. She had fallen in love with a strange man who was not unlike the Lost Boys of Neverland. It had not been love though, in the end she recognized the smell of magic all over their affections. Still it had been nice having such an fling, it had quite brightened her new arrival to this sentient city.

( Now the little fairy was back to her usual )

Jack was more than a little disappointed that Harley hadn't appeared immediately after he'd left his note for her, because he'd really expected her to. And those two idiot henchmen hadn't returned either, though now that he thought about it, he was fairly sure he'd killed one of them, hadn't he?

There was only one thing left to do about it, really.

Find her himself.

Oh yes.

Jack set out into town, that's how he thought of it, going into town, as if he lived in some quaint little townhouse on the edge of a nice sunny field with daisies. Maybe some trees. Woodland wildlife prancing about happily while white smoke drifted lazily upward from the all brick chimney. Rocking chairs on the front porch, a porch that he'd made himself with his own two hands. There'd be a bird cage inside, too. Filled with chickadees. Or whatever those little fat ones were. And out back....

He shook his head, bringing himself out of the sudden daydream. Really. Prancing wildlife? That was so not his style. Headless wildlife, maybe. Especially if the 'wildlife' was people. Prancing, never.

Jack skipped around the streets, half wondering if he'd wander into that hulking tree of a female again, cause if he did, he was climbing her, and there was goddamned nothing she was going to say about it. He didn't care if she beat his ass to a bloody pulp after, that didn't matter. He'd laugh the whole time, cause it'd be worth it.

"HARL!" Jack stopped and screamed the name at the top of his lungs. It came out a little louder than he'd thought he was even capable of. Startled himself. Then laughed at himself.

Very few people were wandering around the streets. Probably cause it was late at night. Almost midnight, he figured. Those out were the derelicts and the druggies. His kind of people. Once in a while a happy looking couple walked together hand in hand, going home, or going to some late thingy. He bet not one of them had an explosive anything in their pockets. He did. He had several explosive somethings. He took one of them out. Ordinary looking glass marble, it was. But when he tossed it at a dumpster, it exploded loudly. Jack laughed.

"HARLEY QUINN!" He yelled it again, trying to be louder than the last time. It worked. It hurt his throat, but it worked.

She was standing, holding a gun, pointing it at something. Somebody was wrapped warmly around her body, showing her how to stand, how to squeeze the trigger, not pull it. Moments ago, she'd felt warm and cuddly toward that person. She'd wanted to spend the rest of her life with Harley.

But suddenly, that was all gone.

Karen went a little limp, gun in one hand and turned to Harley.

"I'm sorry honey, I must have been drunk on accident or something. I'm just not as into you as I thought I was."

No big deal, right?

Harley reflected, as she strolled through the park, that Red really would’ve liked this place. It sucked so hard that the zombies had eaten her brains, but that was the only conclusion she could come to since she’d not seen Poison Ivy since that incident. Which sorta meant that Harl was free to do something naughty with the plants without her best friend making her feel guilty.

She was wondering just how easy it would be to drive one of those tree-digger thingies. Her plan was to rearrange the trees into an arboreal artwork of her true love. She’d scouted this place, it was perfect, because it could be seen from the top of the building bearing the message from Mr. J, and from several surrounding. So if he was looking for her, he’d know, she’d gotten the most incredible love letter he’d ever written her. ( He used a whole building! )

Harley had, since beginning her new life after meeting the Joker, lived by the motto of “drive it like you stole it.” Which was not hard to accomplish since, most often, the vehicle she was in actually was stolen. However the blonde sidekick had expanded the scope of that motto and pretty much applied it to anything with wheels. Including the bright red Radio Flyer wagon with the odd baby buggy hood she’d attached (causing it to look a bit like a Conestoga crossing the prairie) that she was currently pulling down the street at breakneck speeds.

( Not so coincidentally, it too was stolen. )

(For Laura)



Snow sucked.

Well, not all the time. Sometimes, it could make the roads a lot of fun, slick enough to whip donuts in parking lots. And occasionally in the middle of intersections. That was always exciting. Harley was a good driver, even in snow. It wasn’t like Gotham didn’t get some snow now and then. Freezing rain too, which was both more irritating and more challenging. But snow? Snow was easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Except when it kept falling and falling and falling until there was no way that Harley could manage to keep the stolen Caddy going through the drifts. Even with the weight of the car and the fantastic, powerful eight cylinder engine, it just wasn’t quite enough to plow through. The rear-wheel drive didn’t help once she’d gotten stuck either. Great for playing, not so great for getting out of the snow bank.

Harley had spent a bit of time venting her frustration on the dash of the car which now sported a few fist-shaped indentations. Then she’d given in to the inevitable fact that she was going to have walk. But it had only taken five minutes of wading through the snow to come to the conclusion that she’d made a mistake. The car was stuck, but it was warm, and wherever the hell she was, there was nothing here. Nothing. She turned around to go back to the stuck Cadilac, but somehow got turned around or something, because after ten minutes, she was still trudging through the ever-falling snow.

( Which was when she decided that snow sucked. )

Harley was not wearing a happy face. Because Harley was not a happy camper. This was the second time those butterfly bozos had managed to slip away before she could find out where her Puddin’ was. She was gonna tease it out of them. Or maybe exchange the skull for it, except Selina had managed to swipe it right out of her hands. But even the option of tailing them back to wherever they had their hide out was lost to her.

Because the morons snuck out while she was distracted with the kitty. What kinda henchmen were they that they just gave up in the middle of a job? They sucked. They sucked a lot. And they made Harley feel all kinds of cranky, so she’d done what she could to make herself feel better.

( She stole something else. )

You're all handcuffed together in a circle, facing outward. Handcuffs can't be broken, but there's a key taped to the ceiling. The floor below is metal grating that leads to a bottomless pit. Every two hours the grating retracts half an inch away from the wall.

Note: Hours are not real time hours

This sitting around stuff was crap. Just… crap. Harley was not very good at sitting on her hands and waiting things out. So long before it was truly safe, she had ventured back out. She had been cleaner, but not in a much better frame of mind, and that had sunk even lower when she was forced back into her hiding place by the hordes of zombies still roaming the street. There was impatient, and then there was stupid. Harley wasn’t stupid.

But she was irritated and restless. There was nothing to do here, and no one to talk to and she was going out of her mind wondering what was happening. It had been a while; was it safe yet? ( Only one way to find out. )

Harley was no wuss. Even before Pammy had given her that funky cocktail that made her better, stronger, faster, she hadn’t been a wuss. But by the time that she was just a couple blocks from the botanical gardens, she was flat out exhausted.

( She was also seriously grossed out. )

Susan Pevensie had found herself in a dark alley with only her bow and arrows, but she knew something had to be amiss. "Feels like the White Witch" as she slung the quiver onto one shoulder and ventured beyond the safety of the alley (which she saw was behind some sort of place selling food). She only knew this place was not her native England or even Narnia but she would not let anyone see how scared she actually was. The young queen moved with a sense of purpose as she slipped one arrow into her bow, having a weird feeling she would be back in battle.

Her feeling was correct.

Within a few short minutes Susan was ankle deep in a battle against zombies, something she had never seen before. But something in her knew one thing, she had to find someplace safe and fast! But anyone could see the young woman was a crack shot, abet with a semi unusual choice of weapons of course. As she dove into a doorway to fire off another shot she found herself in a sporting goods store. "Well I do need to restock the arrow supply" finding just enough cash to restock her quiver with her choice of arrows (complete with red feather tips). As she restocked she sent a few more arrows flying right into various zombies and dove into another entryway. This was kinda fun but getting very old very fast. But the music blaring from a nearby radio gave her just enough time to slip away and send a few more arrows flying in the process.

The whole time she was thinking of one thing,*Oh Aslan! Point me to a haven of some sort! Point me to the local version of the How!*