The Universe's Mixer

John inhaled deeply, letting the crisp night air bathe his senses more completely. It still felt a bit strange to breathe intentionally and irregularly, but he was starting to forget what it was like to breathe constantly.

Tonight he was avoiding most everybody he knew. He hadn't spoken to anybody since Eric found him in the alley and then left him to clean up the bodies. The blood had given him power and energy, but no better an outlet for the unhappy thoughts than he'd had before. He was now simply working to avoid the rest of his blooded family, sure that any of them would be able to tell about his large recent meal and probably would disapprove. He'd only fed on the synthetic drink since, but the live blood had left a soft burn in his stomach, and he was still looking for an outlet to spend it on.

The young vampire walked through the park's trees, just off a path that was just off the main road, senses keen and muscles tensed under a the facade of a leisurely stroll. He was just hidden enough here to walk watch the street without being seen too easily. It was a comfortable place to be.

John was humming one of his and Eric's tunes as he moved through the back alleys of the City. Tonight he was working on his stealth, moving through the City as fast as he could, pushing himself in endurance and perception. He was strong, he'd always been strong. Since he'd been a delinquent, and later a soldier, he'd been In excellent physical condition, but he'd always wanted to be faster. So tonight, he pushed himself.

The City was always changing, that meant it was great training ground. He worked on perceiving things even as he pushed himself harder, faster, till his muscles ached.

And then he noticed the webs. Skidding to a halt, and feeling the particularly off feeling of not needing to catch his breath, he turned and looked up, seeing a slight mass of dark, odd substance. He blinked, despite the dark of the alley able to see it clearly, though he didn't understand what he saw.

Caught up in reaching out slowly to investigate, the young vampire barely registered the other presence coming up to him.

Now that her home was in something of a respectable state--real food growing in the garden, a goat of her own--Siggy could focus on other things. She had no use for the clothing of this odd, decadent city. With some surprise, she had found that new clothing of her own preference appeared in her room: rich wool and linen, of the type that she had worn as an Earl's wife. She began to feel herself again. And thus, she would look her old self again when next she met Thor.

She wandered what passed for a marketplace in the City. She would need jewelry and cosmetics. She had once worn gold taken in raids, or crafted by the finest smiths in the holdings. Now she would be forced to purchase it for herself. Cosmetics, though--she could buy that with no compunction.

Siggy walked through with purpose, then hesitatingly, and was soon lost in the press of people.

Eddie breathed out a sigh of relief.

This wasn't any city he knew. It was far from the Manhattan skyline he was used to, and entirely opposite of what he had expected to wake up to. It was random, refreshing and welcome. His skin crawled with the feeling of delight, the essence of freedom. Many in his position would be worried, scared that wherever they had ended up was ultimate. But to him, the newness of the finality was alright. Nobody knew his trials here, nobody would know his failures.

To his surprise, Eddie had awoken in his apartment as was usual. The peeling walls, the same smells, the clutter and the mess. There was a wall full of newspaper clippings from the Globe, articles about Spiderman....Spiderman. Hah. What a joke. But he was obsessed just the same. Had he the opportunity he would have killed that red and blue tights wearing nobody the second he could. Spiderman was the reason he'd been fired in the first place!

Revenge was a dish best served cold, and bloody...and tasty.

Eddie found himself salivating for an instant. Standing at the foot of a bed made of rumpled sheets and nightmares...he smiled some, shrugged and dressed. It was in the middle of pulling on a shirt that he noticed the laminated badge sitting on his desk. It said something to do with The City and being a part of the team there and there it was with his photograph and everything.

It was the second chance he had been waiting for.

This place, whatever it was, recognized his greatness. Finally, someone did. He wasn't a bad guy, not really. He had potential. He just needed someone to see it, to acknowledge it. He was Edward Brock, star reporter and this town would know it.

With confidence, Eddie marched in to the building of the job he had been assigned and he got straight to work proving he was better than everyone there. He had nothing to lose. And he was going to be making all of the headlines.

They would just need to wait and see.