The Universe's Mixer

Life was fairly peaceful for the vampire and his brood. Eric had never really been the sort to have a nest, and yet here he was with what essentially was one. His head had settled from the mixture of the two selves, and he'd become one whole person. Ish. There were occasional times when he got a little confused on what memories belonged to who, but for the most part he had it all sorted. Life in the City ran smoothly. He spent time at Purgatory, he spent time with his wife. He saw his progeny, though only briefly, as they had taken up lives of their own. He knew they were within the walls of this place, though, and that was enough for him. The castle was big enough for all of them to have their own space and not trip over one another, and that was another good thing.

But he couldn't deny that he was a bit restless. A bit antsy for something new to happen. Eric was not a vampire of routine. He didn't like being too settled for too long.

He stepped into the bright winter sun and looked up. The Viking didn't think that he would ever get tired of the sensation of day. Of not getting the bleeds. Of being able to walk under the bright sky and see the fluffy white clouds. He'd spent so long not being able to. Now, thanks to the blood of the woman he loved, he was able to do so again.

Eric had no idea where he was headed. He felt like he'd explored every single foot of this place twice over. But he couldn't stay cooped up in the castle, and he didn't know where his wife had run off to. He thought about finding Aidan. He knew that the strange vampire was around, but hadn't seen him. The man was a curious thing, with his different abilities and the fact that he was so ... so... very ... not vampire-like.

Uncertain of his destination, Eric walked.

He wasn't quite used to the idea of being two Erics in one, but he had to get back to the idea of normal that he'd had before all this shit had gone down. If he didn't press himself into it now, he wasn't ever going to get to it naturally. He knew that. He'd just drift and become bitter. Possibly excessively violent.

It had happened for a time when he'd become a vampire. Only reined in by his maker and the commands he'd been given to stop.

So Eric was at Purgatory, ready to play his part. All his vampires needed to work, and that included him. Of course, his place at the establishment was relatively easy. Running it happened naturally, so even the big problems were taken care of quickly. His work within the club itself was much simpler than being a bartender or waitstaff. He didn't even have to man the door.

His place was on the resplendent throne, looking like the king he was. Menacing the patrons into terrified giggles. It was boring, it was tedious, but at least he got to sit the whole time, and looking bored seemed to be part of the charm for the tourists.

Eric's eyes scanned the room, taking in all the patrons. From where his throne sat, he could even see the hunter side. He wondered where Jo was. He'd not seen hide nor hair of her since he'd been back.

Sleeping had done much for Eric. He'd slept longer than he'd intended to, but his body needed to recover - so did his mind. The trauma of the event had not been painful until the joining of the two minds, wherein Eric had gained every single memory from the other self from the time of their diverging lives.

He did not feel his other self inside, but Baba had stated that he was wrong on that matter. As much as Eric did not want it to be the case, it was not his way to doubt what his wife said and knew just because he didn't like it.

These thoughts returned to him as he lifted himself out of the peaceful fog of slumber. His nose told him they were still in the room that the horrors had happened in, burned and ruined by Baba's anger and frustration. He reached out with his senses, with their link, and with his hand to make sure that she was still beside him. Their link was stronger again, more like where it had been when he'd woken up from his strange slumber. It was not lost, then. He was glad.

"My wife," he said softly. "I suppose now is as good a time as any for you to explain why you don't think this other version of me is gone completely."

He knew she'd know about the memories, he'd already told her. He wasn't discounting those as alien, but he felt nothing more. Except for those memories, Eric felt entirely like himself.

The night had come. She wasn't nervous or upset. She hadn't minded that the two Vikings had found some solace or enjoyment in each other's arms. Oddly she felt it was to be expected. She hadn't even minded that she hadn't been asked to come and play; she would have been happy to, but it was neither here nor there. If it had been someone else, her feelings might have been different, depending on the time, place, and person.

So, there the crone sat on a bed she'd shared with her husband long ago before he was her husband. Before they'd taken to living together. Before a good bit. She looked around the dark room, meant to keep him save from the sun outside. Her blood now did that.

She hadn't dressed up for the night. She hadn't brought them dinner, or tried to set a mood. She'd simply made her way to the room and sat on the bed to wait. It wasn't that she felt she had to do anything, nor did she seem to be waiting to out the other woman, or man. She just waited patiently to see how the night would go. To see what might happen because anything could and possibly would happen.

The crone shifted a little, feeling oddly restless. That was perhaps the only thing that distracted her from what enjoyment she sought here. Things were changing again in the City; balance or chaos was soon to come. Or both, knowing this place.

So, she waited to see what was going to happen.

The castle was somehow peaceful despite the fact that there were so many people living in it, and Eric did not for once believe that it was due to the structure being so big, or that they all liked one another. Vampire nests were notoriously hostile at the start as creatures vied for their positions in the hierarchy.

Not even he and the other Eric had butted heads on anything.

Of course, they were sleeping together regularly, so that likely helped.

He knew that his pseudo twin had not touched Baba Yaga, despite there having been contact in the past. And he knew that it had been done out of respect. But they'd had a conversation and it had been mildly disturbing. Not because of the content, it was fully something he expected her to do, but because he hadn't before considered that he might not be the one left behind once everything was righted. He knew as well as the other that this arrangement was temporary, but he'd assumed as his other had done that everything would be returned to how it should be.

Eric, though, knew once it was said aloud and her emotions reached through the bond to him, that there were more possibilities. He knew the City too well to expect it to be clean in any way. As Baba was aware, and had said, it might not be him left behind, which was something of a problem.

He wished to continue the talk his wife had begun with the other.

The fire in the sitting room off of their bedroom was lit for no particular reason, and Eric was stretched out on the couch.

My wife. he called to her through their link, through their feelings. There was no true telepathy there, but she would sense that she was wanted.

The sun shined, and Eric found himself to be extraordinarily happy. He mourned the loss of Logan, but had hope that the boy would return. He still felt the progeny in his blood, so he was somewhere. Perhaps not in this world, but somewhere. Alive, and hopefully thriving.

He had never been one to live in a nest, yet he was finding the company at the castle to be ... nice. Perhaps it was because two of them he was already familiar with. Having a second version of himself and Pam was not so much like having two other vampires there, and yet they were very clearly their own. The world that they had been on had been so very different that they'd become something that himself and his Pam had not. Something more savage and wild. He enjoyed them thoroughly.

Pastor John Tudor was an acceptable choice for a son. Much different than Logan. John wasn't vain and cocky. He wasn't harsh and ready to kill. But he was still taking to being a vampire quite well, and he was lovely in his own ways. Eric was having a little bit of trouble being around the newborn, as when he saw him all he could think of was Logan. He wondered if the two would get along. If Logan came back, would he fight for his right to be the only son? Or would he take to his new sibling?

Technically speaking, Eric had now sired three. Pam, Logan, John. In that order. He wished that his middle child were here to share in the nest and learn what he could from the other vampires. Every individual had secrets and powers to share. Knowledge.

Little Melody was a strange one, too. Eric had met her during his time in that other world, and he was still fascinated by her. She was human, and yet he felt the death within her. They called her a living vampire, and he could see why. She fed off of the dying as much as they did. Could kill, even. She also had the ability to control the dead, which made him nervous. But his mirror had assured him that she had not tried such things and knew that if she did she would be destroyed. So he would not touch it.

Eric had spent a very long time becoming familiar with his wife again. Because of that, they were back to the way they had been since he'd apparently disappeared. And he was back to full strength against the brutal sun.

Maybe he was a little too caught up in his thoughts, or maybe he just hadn't expected a little redheaded human to be so careless as to run into somebody and get paint all over them. Whatever the cause behind it, Eric was bombarded by the sudden scent of wet latex-based paint and near the same moment, covered in it.

His suit was expensive, but he didn't care so much about that. It could be replaced. Usually he was fast enough to get out of the way of people who might run into him. This time he hadn't. He could only guess that she'd been walking that erratically, and he'd been that caught up in his thoughts. Still, it wasn't that which bothered him.

Eric looked at the color dripping off of his hand and down his front.

"Violet? Really. Really. Who even paints their house this color." He flicked his wrist and paint spattered against the sidewalk.

The crone stared out the window high in the castle, a small stool beneath. She didn't need a physical item to fly anymore, but she did like it; it was a strange comfort, magic focused as it was. She watched the night sky, knowing that they were closer to stars than some might realize. She watched the night creatures in the park, wondering if they understood there were things more dangerous in the daytime than they would ever be. She watched her Viking king, the one who belonged to and with her, walk her cabin; it had thankfully not trampled the vampire when he returned.

Eric probably knew she was watching, and he even looked to the window she sat at, no wave, no goodbye kiss, just a slight nod of his head before he went to work. He was a fair king, mostly, and he did not expect anything from his vampires that he wouldn't do himself. She watched him speed off to Purgatory, a hint of a smile on her lips at how that played in her head. With that done, she lowered the stool and set off in search of the other one. Hers, yet not hers.

There was something in the air, and instinct said it had something to do with multiples - twins were often genetic mistakes or miracles. Humans weren't meant to whelp in multiples. Reality couldn't allow for mistakes, yet they weren't in a normal reality, not even in a fabled one. So, she felt the need to talk to a possible mistake, or miracle. It depended on the beholder.

That or the crone was simply curious to see what the man who came from little and had fought for what he had, ruling with a very sharp fang and strong hands, what he thought of the City now that he had been here for a while. The City, the castle, her Viking king and his kingdom.

"Hello." She hadn't asked permission to enter the other king's quarters, finding him in one of the two places she'd expect from knowing her own king. She wore a dress that some might think indecent to wear around a man with whom she was not intimate; it wasn't quite sheer. A leather bound book in her arms as she stood there.

The mermaid had been... fascinating. John had had to fight the impulse to go after her, to ignore the gnawing in his stomach, but ultimately it was too important to find a source of blood. He wouldn't let himself get out of control, to hurt anybody.

Still, what did he do? He shied from the noisy, bright streets and into the alleys, moving swiftly and as invisibly as possible. He tried to think of sources. Volunteers would be difficult to find. He couldn't just start propositioning people on the street, after all. Not if he wanted to stay discreet. Hospitals, blood banks? Perhaps he could buy somebody off, but with what money? And what would he tell them he wanted it for? Pam had told him about the importance being hidden had been in her origin world, and his instincts told him to keep the same low profile until he found out what was happening around him.

He'd been sprinting before he'd realized it, and slowed, falling to a human pace and then stopping, breathing hard. His head pounded and he winced, leaning against a brick wall and touching his head. It was so much louder than Dallas or the dead world had been, it made it hard to think clearly and calm down the mindnumbing stress. He didn't have time to panic, he had to figure things out.

The weather in the City was pretty much always perfect. There were days with rain, but they were still mostly warm. But there were still seasons. In fall the leaves fell (the trees were never bare, though), in winter there might be some snowflakes (never anything like the one great storm where the City had gotten carried away), and summers were warm and sunny and nobody had school.

Still, this year, the City felt like celebrating spring. Not any particular holiday. Just spring in general. There were new people around, there were couples in love, and it wanted to have a great big party for everyone.

Overnight, it set up the great festival. Streets all around the park were closed off so that people could walk around without issue. The park itself was expanded to over twice the normal size. A great clearing was made in the center, stretching from one side to the other. There needed to be lots of room.

Through this clearing the City placed tents, stands, and tables. These were filled with food and wares of all types. There were representatives for all the popular shops, as well as some that nobody had ever seen there before. There were stands for balloons for the kids, too, free of charge. And flowers absolutely everywhere. Woven into the stands themselves, laying on tables, set up in vases, growing in every patch that the City was sure nobody would accidentally step on them. Colorful ribbons, some as large as crepe streamers, also decorated everything. The City wanted as much color as it could possibly get.

At one end of the clearing the City placed a small carnival. Rides, games, everything it could think of. Even a petting zoo, though some of the animals within weren't typical farm animals that usually went in petting zoos. At the other it placed a few stages for performances. Concerts, plays, musicians. The stages were all contained within their own invisible sound barriers, as to not disturb one another, but the noise from all could be heard on the main promenade.

It put signs up all over, put notices in mailboxes, ads on the radio, commercials on television, and even made Candy and Frank talk about it on the morning news.

The celebration would go from sunrise to midnight. At sunset, the City would have a bonfire, complete with a pig roast and s'mores. At that time, it would move the park closer to the water, creating a beach between for the bonfire to settle on.

The crone didn't leave her cabin for a while; she couldn't. She had to make sure it would survive after what the angel had put it through. She didn't rush to her husband, not yet. Now and then she would check to make sure he was still free, within reach - the feeling of distance and unavailable no longer playing along the bond between them.

Once she was certain her cabin was fine and settled at the castle, she started toward the Dracula's castle. She sent an inquiry out to the vampire she shared such a strange bond, the one that had found its way to getting the Viking king and the crone married. She wasn't asking for anything; she wasn't requiring anything. She simply wondered about him, and she felt the need to see him, to put her hands on him and know that he was.

Her destination in the large castle was a library; there were stories there, and she felt the need to find her story again. She felt the need to find the story of angels as well. Angels, demons, vampires. Tradition wanted something; it always wanted something, usually to be satisfied and to maintain the status quo. She needed to know what tradition may throw at them with the combinations. She wanted to be prepared. If she did not find what she wanted among these tomes, she would actually visit the Library, and she would learn more.

The smells were sweet. Like home. And why shouldn't it? It was the day hideout that he'd established. The odd thing was that he was here and not in the castle. Eric had given up the apartment when the castle had appeared. There were more than enough hiding spaces within those walls to satisfy an entire nest of vampires. Or two, perhaps. They - him and Baba - had not explored every single nook and cranny.

He realized that he was tangled up with somebody, but it was a body distinctly not alive. There was a chill to the skin that he had not known in a long while. It wasn't Pam, the chest pressed against his arm was barren of her soft parts, and the form itself was entirely too long. The smells coming from it were familiar, and yet not. Eric opened his eyes to see who he slept with and spied... Eric.

"Oh." He sighed. He had hoped for his wife. Where was his wife? "You. How did you get here?"

The other Eric opened his eyes then, a much more difficult task for him, as it was mid-morning. "This is not my home." He said, body tensing.

"No. It is mine. One of mine."

"Where is Pam?"

"The Pams are not here."

"But we are in the City again."

"Yes. Of course."

"And your witch?"

"I have no idea. Alive, I can feel. Somewhere here. But unless I go look, or she walks in that door, I do not know the exact place."

"And we are?"

"Sleeping together, apparently."

"We're vain."

"News to you?"

"Not in the least. Stating facts out loud. For the fun of hearing my own voice."

"Shall we get up and figure out this mystery?"

"Can we have just a little while longer here?"

"I don't see why not."

The castle felt a lot more fitting to him than any of the residences he'd taken up within the City to date. More than the hotel room he had shared with Baba, more than the hidden day place he kept even now, just in case. More than Fangtasia, certainly more now that it was Purgatory. And definitely more than Baba's weird little cabin - which followed him around as he walked the grounds of the castle like a puppy.

It wasn't just because of his royal bloodline, the fact that he should have been a king in a former life. It wasn't even the fact that he was pretty much a king now. A king with a queen he'd waited centuries for.

The place was just... right.

Of course, even with a place that was right, there was something missing. He hadn't seen Logan in a while, and worse, he couldn't feel Logan within the City anymore. There was just a void where the boy had once been. It wasn't, admittedly, as large a gap as it would have been had this been Pam, his first progeny would always be his favorite, no matter who came along. But Eric couldn't deny that he had a fondness for Logan that had been growing since the first time they'd met. And he had filled a strange, previously unknown Viking need to sire a male heir.

Given that Pam could, and would, be able to take over completely and with authority and ability should anything happen to him, it was an absurd need to have at all. Still, that very ancient pride had welled up after Logan's making.

The vampire sat, brooding a little, in a vast living area that had a giant fireplace. He'd lit the wood within, even though it wasn't cold and he'd never particularly feel the need for a fire. There was a large wingbacked chair situated directly in front of the warmth. He was planted in it, staring at nothing.

Life very rarely slowed down for Dean and Dinah. She'd given him gift certificates for couples' cooking lessons for Christmas. Her intentions had been good. After all, she burned just about everything she tried to cook. And though he said he didn't mind that they lived on take-out, she'd thought that a lesson or two might be fun for an outing for them.

She just hadn't expected over half a year to pass before they finally used them.

Even now, there was a lot going on and taking a night out seemed like something that probably wasn't the best idea. Even so, Dinah firmly believed that even superheroes and hunters needed a night off sometimes. Which was why she'd all but insisted that they put aside their current worries (barring the City being on the verge of destruction, of course) and go to a cooking class together.

They'd even managed to make a meal together that was... well, a little better than edible. It wasn't too bad at all, actually. Nothing had been burned and perhaps that was because Dinah had been determined to live in the moment for the night. To truly be present and not thinking about the dozen or so things that probably needed her attention.

Small doggie bag of leftovers in hand, Dinah smiled as she took Dean's hand and started to walk toward the Impala.

It had taken some arranging to get the opera house to himself for the night. Especially with the upcoming season. But at last Erik presented him with a handful of choices, and Eric took the one that most pleased him.

As he had said, he did all the decorating himself. It didn't take him long at all, considering the speed at which he could work. It would take him less time for it all to come down. Nobody would ever know they'd been in there, except for the ones that were in on it. He had dinner for Baba arranged in the box that he'd been loaned, sitting under a sterling silver dome was a robust steak and some rare vegetables. Eric had picked an expensive red wine to go along with it. The table was small, but it would suit her needs.

He had been given a violinist and a dancer, as he had asked. There would be only music as she ate, so she didn't have to worry about missing anything, and then a bit of a show.

The fairy lights created a tunnel from the front door all the way to the box, only the floor was bare of them. He had taken care to not mess with any fixtures or put holes in Erik's walls, he doubted that the man would like that even a little. But he'd managed to do what he'd planned despite the detour of no nails or stick pins. Eric had laid down thick black velvet along the path's floor.

He waited just outside the opera house for his wife. He'd left a note on her pillow saying only find me. Eric knew that she could do so without any hints or directions. He didn't want to tip his hand too soon.

Lisbeth spoke aloud in Swedish: "What a pathetic fool you are, Salander."

After deciding she was in love Mikael Blomkvist and going so far as to buy him a thoughtful gift and a confession of her feelings, she saw the journalist with his boss and -- their body language had been quite obvious as to their intentions -- lover. Lisbeth turned on a heel and began to walk home, throwing the gift into a dumpster when she had really wanted to throw it at Berger's head!

By now she should have passed Zinkensdamm, but instead found herself on a street that could not have existed anywhere in Stockholm. The night sky had turned to black and there were only stars, brighter than stars in a city ever should be, to light to path on the sidewalk.

I've lost it, she thought. I am completely insane and it's Mikael Fucking Blomkvist's fault.

It was a nice sentiment but if Lisbeth had gone mad, she wouldn't have imagined a city like this. She remained dead calm as she walked, in case it was some sort of temporary insanity that fresh air might correct. It didn't and, Lisbeth began to suspect, the roads were shifting on her. Her sense of direction was aided by a photographic memory. The alleys and turns she took didn't add up.

Lisbeth saw a bar, Purgatory, up ahead. Her mind had already considered several scenarios which might account for her Wonderland-like displacement. If she was drugged or had gone insane it was probably an appropriate time to get crawl-home drunk. The bar's interior didn't make Salander feel much better about her situation, looking like two establishments cut and glued together in half. On one side, there were burly North American looking rednecks. On the other, goths who were decked out in various degrees of fetish gear.

And everyone was speaking English with North American accents.

Lisbeth had the don't-fuck-with-me attitude of a hunter, but the tattoos and piercings of a fangbanger. The truth was that she didn't belong on either side. She took a seat at the bar as close to the invisible divider as she could and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. Lisbeth didn't see any No Smoking signs, and was having the sort of day where she couldn't be assed to care about any ordinances, either.

"Vodka," she said while holding up three fingers. The shots were just to start.

Eric wanted to do something special for his new wife. Something unexpected. He was very much enjoying his time with her, loving her, loving that she was his. She was everything he had ever looked for in a mate, and more. He did so love to spoil her.

His idea took him to the City Opera House, he needed to talk to the man in charge.

He'd been on a couple occasions, to see the works that were put on, and he had been very impressed with the way that everything had been run. The actors had been perfect, the music divine. It was because of these things that Eric thought this would be the best venue. He appreciated the kind of attention to detail that he'd seen.

When he got to the building, it was oddly dark. He'd expected to find more life within. He walked around a couple of minutes before he ever saw another living creature.

"Excuse me." He smiled softly, not wanting to startle the poor human. "Can you direct me to the manager?"

Logan had kept to himself over the holidays. Christmas had always been pretty miserable growing up and he couldn't fall back on his typical activity for New Years' Eve since he could no longer consume alcohol. He supposed that he could have gotten a buzz by feeding on one of the many partygoers of the night, but he'd chosen to just keep a low profile.

Things with Veronica were weird, to say the least. Not that he could blame her, but he wasn't all that confident that she would just suddenly be okay with his new state of existence. She was trying, he would give her that. He just didn't get the feeling that she trusted him any more than she'd ever had.

Logan decided to venture back out onto the streets after the new year. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he'd know when he found it. He'd sated himself with Tru Blood but that never did quite satisfy. He was always a little on edge, always craving live blood.

The City lights twinkled merrily as he roamed through the streets, covering ground quickly as he went. Or perhaps the City was just being cooperative and moving quickly under his feet. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

Dinah was in a festive mood at the moment. She had just finished her Christmas shopping so her arms were loaded down with bags of presents, and now she was taking a stroll by the City's gigantic Christmas tree. There was still that sadness at the idea of having Christmas without Jake, but there were things to be happy about too. She didn't know what they'd do and she didn't much care about the details, but she was looking forward to her first Christmas with Dean. She had a new team member to work with, and she currently had bags of presents for everyone else that was important to her too.

The tree itself was a sight to see. Dinah had always liked Christmas lights and this year was no different. She lingered just a bit and bought some hot chocolate from a street vendor before finding a bench to set her things down on. She planned to patrol later but it couldn't hurt to take a few minutes to simply be, could it?

The sounds of Christmas carols greeted her ears and there was just the faintest bit of chill in the air as she sat and enjoyed the hot chocolate and the lights.

They had discussed further steps that could be taken to assure the safety of all the patrons. Hunters, vampires, and humans alike. What Jo had come up with, and what Eric grudgingly agreed to, was spells. Protection spells. She apparently knew of a wizard who could put such things into place and he told her to go ahead and do it. That he was going to trust her and not hover over her, and reminded her very gently - but firmly - that he had his own source that could check and make sure that nothing was put there that would harm himself or any of his staff or custom.

The spells would assure that no fights broke out and that nobody did harm to anybody else while on the bar's property. It extended out into the parking lot for good measure. Eric knew that many a bar fight was taken outside, and he didn't want to have to deal with dead anything on any part of land he owned. If they wanted to fight so badly that they all wandered to the park, then so be it. It was on them, then.

He knew that Jo was unhappy at the prospect of vampires taking humans home, but he told her that there was nothing to be done about that. There was no accounting for taste, for one, and there was no law saying that a citizen of legal age couldn't have sex with or supply blood for another consenting adult.

Safety measures in place, rule board duplicated (in the rustic style of Jo's half - Eric had had it made as a joke, but it didn't seem to be coming off as one) and in place on the less-than-vampire side, it came down to renaming and reopening.

Which was what the meeting today was for.

Eric stood in his half of the bar, looking at the other half, still wishing that she would agree to just burning all of it to the ground. He'd tried placing table cloths over the un-stylish wood tables, only to find them neatly folded on top of his half of the bar as soon as he turned around. The City, it seemed, was determined to keep this fiasco in tact.

Hannibal knew that they were meeting to go after one of the few remaining Asylum employees on the list they'd created. A list that existed only within his head, of course. He would never be so stupid to leave such a thing laying around where somebody might stumble upon it accidentally and have reason to implicate him in any of the crimes.

But Baba had told him that she had a little surprise for him. She would not give hints as to what it might be, even in vague nature. Because it was her, he could not bring himself to be irritated by the situation, just intrigued.

She had told him to meet her in the park and they would go from there. Many of their interactions had begun or ended in the park, so it wasn't a new or strange thing. It was nice because it gave them a meeting place where it wasn't noticeable if they went to walk off by themselves, and where most people weren't even paying attention to what they were saying anyway. They could blend in with the others and still say the things they wished without worry.

Hannibal found a bench to wait at, one in the full sunshine, and he sat basking in in. The day was pleasant as were most days within the City. An occasional slight breeze. The flowers were always in bloom, butterflies always flitting about. Some might find it boring, but Hannibal loved the beauty in it too much to be bored by the constant temperatures.

He wished briefly that he had brought with him a sketchbook. He would have liked to draw things while he waited for his partner in these bloody things.