The Universe's Mixer

The dress was the usual vamp vamp. She didn’t feel ridiculous in it; it was just another outfit. She’d get to wear her more comfortable clothes once her shift was done; plus, she had to things to do at the bar. Business. She had a mind for it, even if her father hadn’t thought that way so long ago. There were times she actually thought about him and how very odd he’d find her life, even if she weren’t a vampire. Then again, if she weren’t a vampire, she’d be dead, or deader than she already was.

Pam gave a slightly fangy hiss at some silly human, then had to stop herself from rolling her eyes as the silly thing squealed and pointed. She would have been happier if the squeal wasn’t a sound of joy. Well, in this case anyway. She liked it when her food when it actually understood she could hurt it, or them.

She’d noticed that the bar felt a little strange; the humans were..docile. They felt off. She glanced around the main room. Something didn’t work. She hadn’t expected to see Eric at the throne, as it wasn’t his night, but she would have felt more comfortable to see him there, ( feeling just as bored as she. )

The crone had found the conference very interesting, but that reporter had asked questions later in her paper she didn't care for. The fact that the City was now...normal hadn't been missed either. How could she not know that her spell had been broken by someone with a good deal of power? She didn't have to think long or hard on who that someone was either. The god was a being she'd have to handle; she'd noticed the woman with him, but for the moment, she'd decided to take up a bit of distraction.

Baba Yaga'd sent a woman dressed in the crone's clothes to the Tower, given the woman instructions, and set her loose. The woman would definitely smell like the crone as she stood waiting for the beast to come out and play. She was built much like the crone, or Red, was, and she held a small basket with pieces of tasty meat inside. On the basket was a small envelope, inside, a note:

You may enjoy this one, or you may come play in the park. Bring the food. We could have so much fun, my darling.

It was unsigned, but the scent alone should be enough to tell the blue furred genius who sent him his little present.

The crone sat on a park bench and watched the world move around her. She had picked a spot that seemed more wooded than normal. Quite possibly her cabin was close by. Perhaps Eric would feel the strong hint of mischief, anticipation, and lust from the small woman. She was certainly in the mood for a distraction with so much possibility.

His encounter with Lestat had left him wondering. He had not seen the other vampire since to ask him if there had been changes in his own life. Eric had not discovered any new powers himself yet. It would make him very angry if he'd done all that and gone through the pathetic and annoying moments of lust for nothing.

He supposed he was going to have to test things.

If he was going to test things, he would need Baba there, just in case. Not to mention, she would probably have better ideas of what to test.

For now, though, he was taking another day just for the sun. Things were back to normal, it seemed. As normal as normal could get in this place, anyway. There had been no threats to his person, despite what Baba had told him, and he hadn't been able to happen upon Hank himself to ask or explore other options.

In his stroll through the park, Eric discovered a strange thing. There seemed to be a celebration going on, complete with a temporary pizza cart. There was a big, but portable oven, and a counter on wheels. The crowd seemed to be excited by this, as there were many of them crushed up in a haphazard line. Pizza in the park. It was amazing the things that humans found fun.

He began to turn toward it, to get closer to the crowd to observe them.

The City Hall was chosen because it held a room within it that was big enough to accommodate the droves of people that were sure to come. Plus, being inside space, there were no worries over weather that couldn't be controlled. The people could sit and listen and not have to try to hear past traffic or wind.

Even with the late notice, everything was done well before the scheduled start time, which Thomas was proud of. He was glad that the ones who were born here weren't entirely useless without him around. They were keeping their heads together, doing what needed to be done. Of course, it also could have been the fact that they believed Thomas was who he claimed to be, and with his presence there with them, they felt better about the situation they were currently in.

Thomas looked at the stage. That's where he would be standing, talking to the people he had brought here. He had no doubts that they would be the ones with the questions, the ones who demanded answers. He was ready. He could do this.

He sat in a seat hidden by a curtain, where he could still see the stage and the rows of chairs beyond, and waited.

The crone felt...pretty damn good. Or she had as she slipped out of the lab in one of the blue boy's t-shirts. It looked like an awkward dress, and the crone didn't seem to mind that it wasn't exactly the most decent thing she could wear walking about town. She didn't bother changing or showering as she headed to her possible home away from cabin. She knew he'd be in.

On her way she paused as she caught a headline of newspaper as someone walked by. She blinked, and with little effort, she had the paper and was quickly walking away, reading. A brow rose. So, he was going to answer questions. Every question answered. She actually smiled, but not from happiness.

The crone was not prepared for what greeted her as she entered the vampire's now unnecessary hideaway. The place looked like someone had been dancing, or trying to. There were clothes on the floor, discarded along the way to the...bed. And there was a very large male on the bed who looked like he had had a rough time of it before losing hold on the living world. Somewhere among the tangled sheets and vampire limbs there was a sweater; the crone had no idea she was sitting on it as she settled on the bed to stare at him.

Her hands rested on her knees; her eyes moved over his body. It was rare she took time to just take him in like this. Him or anyone else for that matter. She could and would wait for him to waken. They needed to talk...about many things. So there she sat on a fairy's sweater, wearing a mutant's shirt, all upon the vampire's bed.

Being more used to, but not even remotely tired of, being in the sun, Eric had taken to exploring more of the shops that he didn't normally have access to. There were stores and restaurants that opened only at lunch. He did make a point to stay clear of Dinah and her shop, as he had promised her, but he felt that the rest of the City was fair game.

Not truly intending to buy any, Eric stepped inside a coffee shop and took in the smells. It was a strong, powerful aroma that covered pretty much everything within. It was almost overpowering to the point of causing him an inability to smell the underlying scents. Eric had no idea why humans would enjoy such a harsh thing, but the place was filled, so he must be missing something.

He was going to turn and leave when he saw the girl working the counter. Her pink hair wasn't really extraordinary to him. He'd seen wilder dos at his bar. But the wings. Now, those were something special. And it only took him a moment of watching to see that they were the real thing, not just some accessory worn by a pathetic wanna-be.

Eager, he stepped into the line. Part of him wished to push to the front, but he knew that it would only cause a ruckus in the shop. He waited as the line slowly inched forward until he was the one at the front.

He beamed.

He could smell her. Oh, it was covered with that odor of the coffee, and not as strong as others he had encountered. He was willing to stake a bet that she wasn't a full blooded fairy. But she didn't have to be, did she?

"Hello." He didn't wait for her to speak. "I'm entirely new to coffee. I'm hoping you can help."

Eric had tried to get her to come out of the cabin. He had been concerned, which was endearing. He had checked on her regularly. He had even done so when he knew that she wouldn't be the young vibrant Red; she'd be the crone that haunted some nightmares. She had come out of hiding now and then, and had almost been tempted to lock him away in her cabin with her; yet, she always went back to hiding, no matter how long she might have stayed with him.

Now, she was out. The crone had that youthful glow only her kind of power could give her, and she was ready to see the Viking king in public once more. She had found a very small way to thank him, outside the usual donation and wonderful experience in sharing their blood.

She'd left a very strong note for him through one of his many human staff. The girl had knelt at the door the vampire usually visited for hours, waiting on him. The message? "Find me." It was simple, and she had a feeling with his ability to be out and about in sunlight, he'd hear soon enough.

When he did find her, she was settled on a bench in an inappropriate for the weather sundress that was awful thin even if it had been the usual comfortable temperature. She sat on the bench so very still, her hands folded on her lap. She did have a bit of a chill, but she could wait. Where was the crone waiting for her Viking king? Outside the botanical garden, of course.

Lestat did not need as much rest as younger vampires of his kind did; in fact, he'd mostly gotten away from the Hells Bells of his youth, from the sound of dawn approaching feeling like a death knell.

But sleep he did, shortly after the sun came up, and he'd wake just before sunset. Fully fed and strong, he could withstand the sun--and had, in the dessert. The sun still put him to sleep, though, whether he wanted it to or not. There was only so hard he could fight it.

When he awoke this evening, in his beautifully appointed apartment made to look just like his home in New Orleans, something caught his eye. He was reaching into the wardrobe for a jacket and shirt to wear, something eye-catching.

That was when he saw it.

The heart on the mirror. A lipstick-drawn heart. And a square in the middle, a picture.

Holding his chosen garments, Lestat crossed the room in the blink of an eye, grabbing the picture up.

Eric. Eric in the park. During the day.

Lestat growled. It was a low, angry, predatory growl.

The clothes were donned in a flash. And he was out the door in a blur. Eric was out during the day? Eric, whose particular brand of vampire was so vulnerable to the sun?

Once he was on the street, he pursued Eric with a single-mindedness that rivaled actual obsession.

Dinah was doing the avoiding thing for the most part. Zee had tried to call and she'd sent a text telling her friend that she just needed some time and would call when she was ready. She didn't want to talk to her friends right now, but she did want to keep busy. Which meant that she'd been spending a lot of time working on getting the shop fixed up. She was currently sweeping up the glass and soon she would be installing the new windows that had just been delivered. Unlike the last time the shop had gotten trashed when the materials to fix it up had just magically appeared, Dinah had had to wait for everything to be delivered.

But it was here now, and working with her hands was exactly what she needed.

Working with her hands and... answers, really. She needed answers. She wanted to know what had happened to Jake. She needed to know if he had made it back home-even if she dreaded the confirmation of that news.

She knew how his story turned out. She knew that if he'd made it back home, he didn't have long before his death.

She knew all that.

But she still needed to know. Not knowing was driving her crazy.

Somewhere in the middle of sweeping up the last of the glass, it hit her. There might be someone in the City who could answer her questions. Someone who had shown up when they'd needed him most. She still didn't know if he was a god-or God, capital G, or just a guy with god-like abilities. She really didn't know what to believe in that.

She also didn't know how to get ahold of him, and she wasn't usually much for praying.

All the same, she did say a little prayer. She wasn't sure if she should say it silently or out loud. And she wasn't really sure if she was wasting her time or not.

"Um, Jesse. If you're out there, I could really use someone to talk to right now. I suppose if you are around, you're probably busy with more important things. Assuming you can hear me at all. But if you can hear me and you're not too busy... I could really use your help."

A tear slipped down her cheek as she admitted out loud that she needed help, but she just swiped at it and went back to sweeping. She didn't expect an answer, but she'd tried anyway.

I hope that you are doing alright after our little spat. Are you? Please let me know if I can do anything to help.

-Eric.

Beast woke up in the a quiet, lightly wooded part of the park. It was comfortable here, but something was wrong. His head lifted, emerging from beneath the blanket he'd curled under over the night. It was a good smelling blanket, but the little female it smelled like was no longer next to him like she had been when he'd passed out.

He scowled deeply, testing the air. She'd been gone for a while, and that was unsettling.

Climbing off the wooden pallet that had been his bed the creature-like man stayed on all fours, stretching out and letting a grunting snarl out as new muscles were called to duty. He felt immensely better, the pain from the night before was almost gone and he was rejuvinated. Now the only thing wrong was his stomach, and the lack of his companion from the night before.

He dropped the blanket, it smelled good and of her so he'd return here to sleep, but he had no use of it if he was going hunting. He followed where his nose hinted she might have gone, leaving the small canopy of trees and heading across the park, still on all fours. He followed her scent until a much stronger one caught his attention, and more importantly, his appetite. A delicious smell coming out of a box with wheels where a few people were gathered. Beast changed his course almost immediately, and was pleased when he didn't have to do anything to scare them off except snarl a bit. The people, one a mother with a small child, took off running, leaving him to stick his fist through the side of the flimsy glass box and get at the lovely pieces of meat roasting inside, stuffing himself full of hotdogs without worry or care about where he was or who was around him.

Eric was annoyed after his encounter with the human who liked to stab him with silver. But even that couldn't spoil the general mood he had still at being able to walk in the sun. To see the bright day.

He found himself in the park again. This time with no particular goal in mind. He just wanted to be in the day and see the grass as green as it could be. Look at the flowers soaking up rays of energy and nourishment. See the humans playing because they were so sure no evil could touch them in such glorious conditions.

The Viking had a bit of a soft spot for daylight activities, he was discovering. So much that he saw during the night was completely different. It was like being a child again. Or a brand new vampire, seeing things for the first time with the new eyes, hearing the world with the new ears.

And there was a true freedom now. Having one less restriction placed on him. Of course, he had to share blood with Baba to achieve this, it was not a freedom that came completely free. But he was willing, and she was willing. She was willing enough to continue to share with him often, he had not had to worry about the sun once since they'd began this journey, and didn't think that he was going to have to worry about it for some time. She seemed to enjoy seeing him in the daylight as much as he enjoyed walking in it.

If he could get rid of the pesky problem with silver, he could truly be a god. Unfortunately, he saw no way around that.

Eric found a bench sitting out in the open, not covered in the shade of trees like most he passed. He sat and stretched his lengthy body, letting his head bend over the back. Soaking in sun on all his exposed flesh, much like a cat in a sunbeam.

Dean was feeling pretty damn good. Life wasn't becoming any less strange in the City, but he was getting the good ole slap and tickle slowly going on regular from a very nice Federal agent, which wasn't something he'd ever expect to happen. So, he was feeling comfortable after a very good night with one Jennifer Government; she'd made it possible to forget all the things he'd been dealing with in the City lately. Forget for a little while anyway.

He stepped out onto the street, knowing that there weren't many problems that would bother people during the day. Ghosts, demons, and then some may be out in the daylight, but he didnt' know of any at the time. Other than Crowley. He didn't even know of any angels around; they might have been, but he hadn't seen them in some time. Even Jimmy was missing. As he started thinking about how good his life was getting, he started realizing how very good it wasn't.

It was too early for a drink of alcohol; he'd been trying to get a handle on that. It wasn't working as well as some might like, but it was better than what it used to be, maybe. Coffee and pie was the second best option for the time. So, he started out across the street for the small shop. Pie and coffee would be just the thing. Then he'd deal with Sam, Jo, Crowley, Castiel, Gabriel, Jennifer, Dinah, Murphy...the list was damn long if he actually let himself think about it.

Dr. McCoy. Dr. Henry 'Hank' McCoy had given her a check up. He was young, but that didn't matter. He had given her a check up. Fred still felt a little strange about it a couple days later; not bad strange, just strange. Sure, she'd stood near the U.S.S. Enterprise. She might have talked to more than one superhero who liked wearing spandex, but this was Beast. Or a Beastette? He was the really smart one other than maybe Forge. Okay, so there were quite a few intelligent comic book types, but Beast had always been her comic book crush. Now he was just downstairs from a guy who...Fred still wasn't sure what to make of Jake Jensen.

"This would be so much easier if..." she paused as she thought the rest of that out. "No, no, it wouldn't be easier if Wesley, Charles, or Angel were here. Maybe if Cordy showed up, but then she'd probably want him, or maybe she wouldn't. She'd probably like Jack Poor Jack." Her brows furrowed as she walked along in the park, ignoring anyone who looked at her while she talked to herself.

"He probably thinks I'm awful. I am awful, look at what I did. I kinda dump him, then he does sweet things, then I officially dump him. Or maybe he dumped me. Cause he did sort of walk away, but I didn't try to make him stay. Course, I really just wanted to take him into my place, Angel's place - I can't have sex there ever, can I? But, I didn't want to be his girlfriend, maybe I did. Just not the mayor's girlfriend. You could have waited to see if he would stay mayor -yea, but how long does he stay mayor? For as long as he's here." She stopped. "Oh, if you just jinxed him, Winifred Burkle...

"Right, so there's that. Then there's Jake. He breaks in, I drug him. I molest him sort of. He sues us. Kinda. What do I do, I end up getting kissy with him. Sexy times. Well, not full on sexy times. I cannot have sex in the Tower. That's not right. But, do I want to be his girlfriend? Is it fair? Is he rebound boy? Why are you asking me?" She looked at herself in the reflective surface of the hot dog vendor's cart.

"Hi, I'll have one please, just mustard today, thank you." Thankfully the vendor didn't seem to mind her personal conversation, and just gave her the dog as ordered. This was how Fred Burkle was going to spend her day.

Baba had, of course, stayed with him after the sun had made it's way high into the sky to make sure that when he stepped out into it, he didn't accidentally kill himself. The point of this test was not to see how long it would take him to fry with her blood, but to see if he could exist in the daylight because of it.

It had been like a miracle to him.

To see the sun, full and dazzling, blinding. Hot. The day turned out to be cloudless. It had been difficult for him to move at first, not because any of it hurt, but because of how much it didn't. He had felt stuck for just a little while, standing there, and looking up into something that he had not seen in such a long time. The sun, despite how he'd wondered if it would, had not changed from when he'd been human. He knew that it only seemed brighter and hotter because he'd not been caught in it for so long.

When it was clear to them both that he wasn't even going to end up with the bleeds, Baba went on her way and blessed him toward having as much fun as he possibly could. How long would this last, after all? He admittedly had not given much thought to how she might be responding to certain things. If she could feel his wonder. It would be an oversight he would correct the next time he saw her.

The first person he wanted to interact with was somebody he'd never really stopped playing with since the day they'd met. He'd stolen Dinah's phone long enough to get a look at her number, and had ever since been sending her profane texts and naughty pictures that didn't show his face, but showed plenty else. There were even one or two in there where he'd had partners, though their identities were well hidden. Eric knew that Dinah must have gone through many attempts at stopping his deluge, but either the City didn't want it to stop or it didn't care what she wanted, because he never got any notice at all that his number was blocked or his messages bounced.

With a smile on his face, Eric made his way to Sherwood Florist. Oh, he couldn't wait to see the look in her eyes. He found he had to wear sunglasses against the brightness of the day, but other than that and his extreme paleness, looked as if he belonged with all the other 9-5 citizens.

Hank took a running leap off of one of the taller buildings in the City, eyes closed as he fell, cold wind swirling around his limbs and through his hair. Better and more dynamic than having a convertible going at top speed.

He fell until he hit the rooftop of a much shorter building, tumbling and winding up on his feet, letting out a grunt and a breath as he hit a crouching position. Then he grinned, looking up at the height before slowly standing up. He was getting much better at landings, something that had recently come to his attention as needing work. Since joining the Justice League he'd resolved to get himself more fit, in case he was needed by the group to be on scene again. If they were going to be a task force every member should attempt to be their best, and Hank knew that he had never even attempted to seriously reach his true potential.

Besides, he hadn't been able to sleep lately. Ever since that last meeting with Red Hank hadn't been able to let go of her during his inactive hours. It was like she was hanging onto his thoughts, and even though he could avoid the thoughts through mental discipline during the daytime, at night his dreams had become consumed by her presence. They weren't exactly… nice, either. The one last night had been downright bestial, though to Hank's waking horror the ferociousness and animalistic attributes had been his own. Red had been as she was in more dreams, a beautiful, inviting figure of warm and permission for him to do as he liked.

The dreams unsettled the boy when he was awake, and wore on his nerves. To combat it he'd been working himself to his dropping points, setting up his new laboratory in the JLC headquarters, moving out, and exercising and training at night.

He'd made himself the start of a new suit for the workouts, a skintight, breathable shirt and the loosest pair of sweatpants he could find to leave all movement unhindered. He was discovering that with stretching he had incredible range of motion with his limbs.

Turning he looked out across the rooftops and then down at his watch, setting the timer. If he really pushed himself he could attempt to break his four-block sprint across the City. He readied himself, then clicked the button before exploding forward, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, hands and feet moving fluidly to carry him forward faster than any human could sprint on a simple road.

The sun was setting, which meant it was time to find a certain safe house. The crone rarely took the same way twice, even with the shift of the City. Anyone who could or would follow the crone could and would find a way to remember where she was going. She took her time as this was likely to be the last time she would be her own self. She had no idea what the outcome would be; she'd seen the girl that Eric frequented on occasion and had seen the effects. But, she knew she was not that simpering little girl.

Stopping by the shops to get a few things for herself, a dress, some shoes, maybe a small bag of chocolates and a bottle of wine, Baba Yaga prepared for the night. There was nothing overly different in her preparation, but there was a different feeling to it. She'd put it off for many reasons, and finally decided perhaps it may help in the coming days. She had big plans, and she was going to share them as well as a few other things with the Viking.

The crone got into the safe house without much issue,seeing as what could be worn was. She rarely left a clothing store in the same clothes she'd been wearing when she walked in. The two other treats in a small bag. She didn't care if he was already awake. Though there were times she watched him when he was dead to the world. It wasn't romance so much as curiosity. There were times she had to fight herself from touching him or worse to see if there was any sort of survival instinct.

Having set her "treasures" down on a counter, she found the one glass she bothered keeping here. He didn't need it really, so why bother? He drank right from the source after all. Now, what would he want to do first?

The last few nights had been exhilarating. The crone couldn't remember the last time so much fun and mischief were to be had, and certainly couldn't remember having someone so interesting to share it with. It bothered the crone sometimes how much the Viking was becoming part of her world, or actually how much he was a part of it. There were no ridiculous school girl notions as the crone had no wish to change the Viking. Yet, when she, or he, had said that Eric's death would be a very bad thing, he, or she, had meant it.

The nights had been filled with extreme debauchery, as if there were any other kind, and the crone in the borrowed male form had enjoyed every moment of it with the Viking. They had taken a few to someone's bed. They had put the silly humans through so much turmoil, teasing them to the point of pleading. There was blood, lust, sex, and chaos. There might have been a little death in there, but Baba really didn't care. In the end, it had been a nice vacation and release for the crone.

The crone had gotten away during the day; while the crone was immortal, closer than even the Viking, he/she did need something more than what the small snacks Eric kept in his place. Perhaps the closest thing to domesticated either would ever be, save for Baba's cabin. So, the man had slipped out, careful that no one was watching, to eat some fruit and meat. A few large meals, none of which the crone paid for, and he was back before the sun was setting.

Perhaps to awaken the sleeping prince, or simply because the damn thing felt so good, the crone in the more manly shape he/she'd been wearing the last few days took to the shower. The sensations were so very different from one body to the next; a small curious notion had settled into the crone's mind - maybe she'd have to see how Eric felt it next, or someone else....

Evening had fallen, and things were picking up at a particular club in the City. The night suggested mischief, which was exactly what a certain member of the City's more aware citizens was creating. The tall man didn't look as if he belonged in the club with its blood drinkers and fangbangers. He didn't look as if he didn't belong there either. The jeans were fitted without being too tight; the button up shirt hinted at the toned physique underneath. His hair was longer than the more conservative types running around, and his green eyes held a hint of the mischief he was after.

He moved through the club, giving faint smiles and slight nods to anyone who noticed him. He wasn't a vampire, that much was obvious, but there was something different about him. He certainly wasn't one of the tourists, here to see a vampire and get a picture with one, not that pictures were allowed really. He gave a quick glance to the throne to see if it was occupied before he turned to the bar and ordered a beer, bottle.

He didn't ask for who he had come. He didn't say anything more than chat quietly with the young thing that was sidling up to him now. His accent was English, and his voice soft and smooth. He watched the woman bat her lashes at him, and he even leaned in ever so slightly to show that, yes, he was flirting back in return. Only, he wasn't there for her. Now and then he would glance around to see if his true target was in. Would the great Viking king even know what was happening?

It was time to play, and not even the newcomer knew all the rules of the game.

After 800 years, Nick could sense when the sun was near rising or setting, so it was no surprise when he carefully opened the trunk to peer out that he saw that the sun had dipped below the horizon. Twilight was upon him.

( He climbed out of the trunk... )