The Universe's Mixer

The warehouse was as well-fitted as it could be, defensively and offensively. That had been step 1. But now he and Bane needed information -- more of it, that is, than what could be found on newspapers left littering the sidewalk in this mostly-deserted side of town. Refuse told much about a city - even living refuse that clumped in dirty piles in the alleyways - but there was only so much information that could be extracted from half-gone junkies. With distaste, the Cleric dropped the latest wellspring and dusted his gloves off gingerly.

This wasn't working.

It was a risk, but one that needed taking. Bane was too conspicuous to do the job well; it fell to Cleric Brandt, First Class. Clothes were the first hurdle, quickly overcome by a little quiet street intervention. Wearing another man's clothing, then, he took the first car he found into the City proper and ditched it on the edge of a long line of houses a few streets down from a busy part of town.

And then he began walking. A fresh newspaper was easy to pluck off a nearby outdoor table. He tucked it under his arm and kept walking until he got around the corner, then propped his arm against the side of the nearest building and began to read.

Selina wasn't usually one for childish things, she had long since given up girly and kiddie things for more adult adventures. Even before her family burst apart at the seams her life hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows. An orphan for most of her life, Selina had learned quickly how to get what she needed to survive by any means necessary. She didn't kill, she would not tolerate blood like that on her hands. If someone died in the process, it wasn't by her purposeful doing. That wasn't to say that people didn't meet their demises, they did, but she liked to think that she was not the cause of that. It was just a part of life.

Today she had left Wayne Manor with the prospect of shopping for something. Anything that caught her eye, and anything her heart settled on. She was trying to be good for Bruce, but being good all the time was so boring! She hadn't been called the Robin Hood of Gotham for nothing in her younger years.

Stepping over a small pile of chalk, Selina made her way gracefully across the sweeping expanse of the City Park. Today she was dressed down from her usual glamorous attire, clad in denim shorts and a tank, with flats on her feet. Clothes easy to get around in, clothes that blended in to the natural fashion of the modern age. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Finding herself standing on the cusp of where the grass met the sand of a playground, Selina breached the barrier and found herself sitting down on one of the swings. The park was vacant. She was curious to know if the park was always so empty, or if the children just happened to all be at home or at school. Why have a park if there weren't children?

The chalk doodles on the sidewalk, the clouds and flowers and hop-scotch etchings suggested that there were children. Perhaps they had all gone in for lunch. Well, that was alright with her. She had never been one for brats anyway. Selina figured she was much too selfish for that. Cats were much more tolerable.

Swinging herself, Selina hummed and she watched the park carefully.

The room was nice. It was almost like the guest room at Alison's, but it was not. Alison's guest room is neat and clean, but this room has been decorated with flowers and stuffed things. Helena likes flowers and stuffed things, but she was instantly wary because this was not Alison's guest room and she does not like surprises.

She found clothes, soft and pretty like the other things in the room, and put them on. She walked out of the room and found a small house, or an apartment. It was an apartment. It was clean and comfortable, and there was food on the counter. Helena immediately went to the food and began to eat, because that is the smart thing to do and the food looked good. As she finished a bunch of grapes, she saw the paper. The writing was not in English. The letters were Cyrillic, and the language was Ukranian. She knew this language. She read the words, then read them again. She crumpled the letter in her hand.

The letter said that her babies are not in her stomach any more. Her babies are safe, but they cannot be here with her right now. Her science babies will be returned when she leaves, whenever that is. The letter was signed, "The City."

The apartment did not feel so nice now. Helena was angry, and if she did not have babies in her stomach then she wanted to drink. She left the apartment without locking it and went to see where she was now that she had no babies and no family.