The Universe's Mixer

Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.

Most of the time, Harry figured Tolkien had an inkling of what he was talking about in that line. It seemed to be the mantra adopted by the Senior Council, the collection of the seven most powerful wizards in the world, but those of Harry's own age tended to shirk the 'subtle' part. Harry had been up most of the night working on a series of spells, all with no success. He wanted to give Murphy some space for the morning to do her mantras or katyas or whatever it was a black-belt akido master did.

The wizard, meanwhile, was looking for beer. Given how early it was, he settled for coffee.

Headaches had been plaguing him for over a year now, some days merely homicidal while others painted the world red and made him grit his teeth in response to anything. He paid for his coffee and leaned against the outside of the building, hunkered into his leather duster, his staff in his right hand, shutting his eyes to ignore everything but the scent and taste of caffeinated ambrosia.

Jake had discovered a newfound affinity for noodles. (Especially noodles combined with some kind of fish in a milky sauce.) Hence why he was trying out the Chinese restaurant that had mysteriously appeared at the corner of the park as he was walking home. The waitresses were very pleasant and didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that a cat was treating himself to shrimp low mein (with a side of Half&Half creamer for a beverage.)

Spread out across the table were blueprint plans of his ship. Yes, he was still trying to determine if he could make his ship fly again. Of course, he wasn't so naive as to think that it was broken. Certainly there was something that The City was doing itself to prevent his ship from breaking atmosphere and flying off into space. But he was curious about the particle physics and quantum theories surrounding space travel. Perhaps he could find some sort of gap in The City's hold on his ship? Maybe he could find some kind of loophole that would allow him to escape?

Not that he wanted to escape entirely. He did enjoy The City. But he wanted to know that he could leave. He wanted to know that one day he would be reunited with his people or with his old friends. And, of course, he would take Lucy-Belle with him. Provided that she wanted to go. But he couldn't imagine her not wanting to go. She had friends and family back on Earth, after all. And even though the two of them had each other now, she might still be lonely for her companions.

On a scratch piece of paper, a hovering pencil drew out some formulas. Jake's collar glowed as the pencil wrote across the length of the paper. He had considerably nice handwriting for a telekinetic cat. Some of the algorithms were in his own language, but anyone with knowledge and experience in mathematics would be able to see what he was trying to do.

It was a science thing.

Mmm, creamer. Slurp, slurp.

Dinah crouched on the edge of a four story building, surveying the alley below. She was waiting for her target for questioning for the night to appear. She stifled a yawn and did her best to keep herself awake. It was difficult to make sleep a priority and it was especially difficult to get any sleep at the Clocktower, which was so empty without Jake.

At least when she'd been able to go to Harry's, she'd gotten a little bit more sleep. But that was out of the question until Murphy found her place.

So, Dinah was more than a little on edge. She was probably more trigger happy than she should be at the moment.

Hank walked down the street, humming to himself quietly in between bites of his recently acquired Twinkie. A sack of groceries was clutched in one arm, the Twinkie box just poking out of a bunch of greens and bread, forgotten as he walked and tried to work out the specs for the Blackbird in his head. She was too far away to actually work on, of course, in a different universe altogether, but he wanted like nothing else to see her finished, and as heartbreaking as it was to be separated from her, he could still work out the finishing touches in his mind and finally be able to move on to something else.

He sighed as he swallowed the last of his Twinkie, thinking about how pathetic that much be. To be suddenly tossed into a completely new universe and the only thing you miss was a piece of machinery? Though it wasn't like anybody there would miss him, either, except maybe the higher ups in the CIA who benefited from his inventions. But he felt no loyalty to them.

Besides, here for a few days and already set up with a home, work, and then meeting a few people who seemed lovely… well, it was as easy a move as one could expect. He seemed to be fitting in here, as well as he ever did anywhere, and that was something. Not that he wouldn't try to find out what happened, of course, but all things in time. It was annoying, now, and he couldn't help but resent the giant wall he could see in between the buildings when he crossed the streets, but he'd have time to inspect it closer later, opportunities always presented themselves. Just like eventually the opportunity to get even with that snippy male nurse at the hospital would present itself, and Hank would gladly ruin the other's mood for a day in eye-for-and-eye retaliation.

"What am I doing here?" Gaius asked as he stared down into the glass of wine he was nurturing at the bar.

Six slipped around from behind, her hips moving in beat to the tavern music. She was wearing the red dress. The dress that made Gaius' head spin and swoon with (heavenly devotion? -- hardly.) She brought herself around his bar stool and leaned towards him, her hands placing themselves on each of his thighs. Long, neatly manicured nails dug into his legs. She had one of those expressions that was -- Gods, God, he didn't care what she was. Human. Cylon. His subconscious. He lusted after her every waking moment of the day. And when he was asleep? When he was asleep he imagined that he was with her even more in his dreams. The two of them together in his house back on Caprica City.

Gaius closed his eyes and when he opened them he was no longer in the bar. Instead, he was on his back porch overlooking the lake that dug deep into the Caprican mountainside. He was lying on a lounge chair and she was atop him, straddling his waist. Her dress was hiked up to her hips, blonde curls falling at the sides of her face. The sun was dipping in the horizon and it created a glow around her. Reds and yellows and oranges. Like one of those impressionist paintings that came out of Picon forty years ago.
( Why don't you take your clothes off already? )

He was just in the mood for a light snack. Something quick. What the humans liked to call 'fast food'. He didn't want to have to hunt down Fred for it, it would take too long. It also hadn't been a very long time since he'd fed on her last, and wanted a little more time to go by before they saw each other again. Let those dreams get in there good and deep. He also didn't want to ask Baba. She was not the sort you went to for a quick meal. Baba was to be enjoyed. Savored. And on top of that, they had experiments to run, didn't they? He couldn't just ask her for something as powerful as her blood and then tell her that he had to run.

The sun had only just gone down. He'd been up for almost two full hours before sunset. He could tell that the blood he'd already taken from the ancient hag was wearing off. But not as quickly as he'd thought it would. Soon, though, he would be waking just before sunset as he had previous to ever knowing her. He still hadn't dared to go outside until the sun was dark, however. He wasn't foolish enough to try that this late in the game and without the help that Baba Yaga had promised him. Instead, he'd been irritated for those entire two hours by the new day girl. She talked his ear off. With the most inane crap he'd ever heard in his life. He didn't know if she'd been trying to impress him or flirt with him or if she'd been highly nervous. It didn't matter. By the end of the two hours, he'd really felt like killing her. If hiring a day girl wasn't so tedious, he might have.

He'd left as soon as he could, not saying a word.

Not knowing where he was going, he'd just started to walk. As he walked, he realized that he was a little bit hungry. Thus, the snack. It really hadn't taken him long to find somebody suitable for his needs. A lovely young lad walking by himself. Eric had taken him down quickly, sweeping him into an alley quickly, and before the boy ever knew what was going on. The kid was right around the age of 13, Eric thought. Young. Tasty.

His fangs slid easily into the flesh and Eric got ready to have his mini meal.

It was a typical day for Jesse Custer. He moved about The City, watching out for things he could help with. Seeing if there were any new faces about. Occasionally playing with the stupid fucking phone thing that The City had given him. Occasionally even doing the right thing with it. He had breakfast in a diner and lunch in a diner. It didn't compare to Zoe's cooking, of course. Nothing compared to a nice home cooked meal. But Jesse just wasn't the kind of guy who spent a lot of time doing his own work in the kitchen. There were simple things he could do, eggs, bacon, pancakes for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. But sometimes it was just easier to eat someplace else. Besides, it meant that he didn't have to clean, either.

He was currently standing outside said chosen lunch establishment, lighting his post meal cigarette. He looked in the direction of a couple of young guys who were having an argument about god. He shook his head.

"May not be no God here," He said to himself. "But he existed at one time."

Not to mention there was, well, himself. Maybe people didn't pray to him and ask him to bless their dinners and watch over their sick grandmas, but there were people here who knew very well what he could do. People who trusted in his abilities. Maybe one or two who revered him. Just a little.

He turned to walk from diner and continue on his random path through The City and came face to face with a blonde. At least he didn't actually run into her like he had Castiel. Didn't do much good to be God if you couldn't so much as tell when another person was walking toward you.

"Scuse me, darlin" He gave her a smile and waited for her to go around so they didn't end up doing that stupid dance trying to get by one another.

Patience was a virtue. Unfortunately, it was not one of Harley’s. It never really had been, actually. When she wanted something, she found a way to make it happen, even before she’d met her Puddin’. Now when she wanted something, she generally just took it. A reflection that did nothing to lighten her gloomy mood as she sat parked atop an office building, watching the two most likely exits to said structure.

This had seemed like fun when she thought of it three hours ago. The fuzz did it all the time. The vinyl vigilante practically lived to do this sort of thing. Which only reinforced Harley’s professional opinion that Bats was cracked in the head. Normal people did not put on tights and masks and skulk around rooftops, it wasn’t a healthy expression of emotion.

( What it was, currently, was a dead bore. )

Fred was feeling different lately. Oh, she'd been having very interesting dreams, and she'd been allowed to work on some very high tech equipment. She was helping, but she'd felt..different recently. It wasn't a good or bad different, although she did feel a craving. It was one of those cravings she couldn't quite figure out for what exactly she was craving. She couldn't name it, and if she could just name it, maybe then she'd be able to get back to feeling normal. Not that she really considered herself all that normal.

As if the City felt a need to help her out, or give her yet another distraction, she received an invitation from the City Institute. They were thinking of holding a panel for the leading scientists and thinkers on the interplay between science and magic or supernatural. The invitation was to a private meeting, and she guessed it was part of whatever was going on to find answers about the City. The Institute was starting to wonder? Maybe it was someone who was part of that meeting? There'd been flyers, she was pretty sure of that.

She knew she should probably sit at the computers and do more work, but the programs she had running, which didn't seem to be giving her more information than she'd already provided, were working well enough on their own. She wasn't needed.

Fred dressed in her more scholarly gear, even the glasses not that she always needed them much lately, and headed out to the Institute. She'd found the small conference room that looked set up for a small round table discussion, or debate; it even had snacks: small sandwiches, chips, crackers, pastries, juice, water, soda. It didn't look like a lot of food, but she'd guess at least five or six were expected. Scholars, thinkers, did like the free food and usually tried to sneak some home.

Fred Burkle settled down in a semi-plush swiveling rolly chair and waited. She didn't want to touch the snacks until others were there. It seemed more polite. She was a little excited; it'd been a while since she'd gotten to have an in-depth conversation of this kind.

Lestat was hoping that Bella would finish reading about him soon, and that he'd see her again. He rather liked Bella, and he didn't really understand why. But for now, he sat in the same outdoor cafe where he'd sat with her, watching people.

An untouched cup of coffee was in front of him, as was a notebook and an old-fashioned fountain pen. He wore his sunglasses, even though the sun had recently set. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal, if pale, young man.

This evening in particular, his attention was drawn to the redhead.

He could feel the power that was within her as if it was trying to touch him. It'd been the same with Rowan, with Merrick, with many of the Mayfairs. He squinted his eyes, trying to determine--nicely, without interfering with her mind--who she was. Hadn't... wasn't there... there was someone. There was a witch. Had Spike mentioned her? Had Buffy? It didn't matter. Lestat knew enough to realize this was one of their people. A witch of Sunnydale, rich with power.

The vampire smiled. And he waited for her to pass. And when she did, he said hello to her and invited her to sit down.

Lorne felt pretty good.

He was glad he'd hired Logan Echolls. The kid could use the help, and from what Lorne had seen when Logan sang, it was all going to work out well for him and for Caritas. Having more time free to entertain, to sing, and to put people right on their paths... that was going to make him a much happier demon. It wasn't all altruistic, though; he intended to use some of his free time to try and get out of here, or to find more people like Angel and Fred.

He missed some of that. Not the part with his head getting cut off in his home dimension, but still. He wanted that family aspect back.

Still, though, the demon whistled his way down the street, shades on, hat on, flashy suit on, wing tip shoes on, the tune this time 'Almost Like Being in Love.'

He stopped to grab a newspaper, and thought he'd catch a bus downtown and grab a good lunch, too. The bus was going to be late, it looked like, or his watch was slow. That was fine. Lorne didn't stop humming.

Somehow, Ivy had managed to find a few rare saplings in the City over the past few weeks. With her help, they'd grown and flourished fairly quickly. They were in a carefully guarded section of her garden, and she visited them often.

Today, however, she was tending to some of her roses when she caught a little hint of trepidation from the trees. A few seconds later, she heard the sound of... was that barking?

It had better not be Harley's hyenas, she thought to herself as she straightened up from where she'd been kneeling by the rosebush and turned to rush over to the grove of trees.

Drinking with Devon, his asshole of a roommate was probably a bad idea, Logan reflected. He'd accepted the invitation out without giving it too much thought, but now the jackass refused to shut the hell up.

Logan downed another beer, hoping that he would get less annoying through the pleasant haze of alcohol.

"And that girlfriend of yours... I'd definitely do her," Logan caught the last bit of that ramble. "If you ever decide you're done with her, let me know."

He slammed down his beer, and turned to his roommate. He stood up, puffing his chest out.

"You want to say that to me again?"

"Sure thing," Devon agreed and stood up, crossing his arms with a grin. "I said-"

His sentence was truncated as Logan's fist impacted squarely with his jaw. Devon reeled, and then dove at Logan.

Before Logan quite knew what was happening, several others had joined the fight and he was now parrying drunken blows from all sides and taking the advantage to work out some of his aggression as he fought his way through the crowd.