The Universe's Mixer

Wash was accustomed to having vivid dreams, but they were usually weird, wild and wacky adventures that sometimes involved goslings or dinosaurs. Vivid nightmares, too, though he didn’t like to dwell on those - nightmares too close to life, nightmares of very real potential dangers and deaths. This, though... this was different.

He had been dozing off behind the wheel. Not while piloting, of course - just waiting. It happened, sometimes; he’d slip into dreamland and be jolted awake by Mal’s or Zoe’s voice over the comm system. And now he was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. There was no way this city around him, these unknown streets, were real. Unless he’d been kidnapped by some random group of miscreants, dragged off of Serenity, and dropped off here. Stranger things could happen.

It was clearly a city. That much he could be sure of. It was dusk in some nameless city, and Wash stood somewhere on a sidewalk in the middle of it, gazing at the things around him with a puzzled expression and slightly narrowed eyebrows. It was old here. Weirdly old. There were actual cars driving by on the street - not land-speeders, but cars, mythical things of legend that he’d only ever heard of or seen in pictures. Everything around him was in English; not a bit of Chinese in sight. Everything was antiquated, ridiculously so; it didn’t make any sense.

He tried the pinching thing. Pinch your arm, wake yourself up. Classic and simple. But not working. Head quirked to one side, he touched the side of the nearest building. It felt real. It felt like it was really there. After a moment’s hesitation and fully aware that, if the whole kidnapping thing had actually happened, he was being incredibly stupid, Wash clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it against the wall.

“Liou coe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze duh ur-tze!*” he swore loudly, causing a few heads to turn in his direction. He was a bit too busy being confused, disoriented, and, after punching a wall, in a decent amount of pain. This was real. This was very painful and very real. Wash flexed his fingers experimentally, hoping to God he hadn’t broken anything. Wherever he was, however he’d gotten here, the last thing he needed was a trip to the local hospital. All he could hope was that the rest of the crew was around here... somewhere... somehow.

*Stupid son of a drooling whore and a monkey.

Up to her neck in the engine was a place Kaylee felt comfortable, but it was not a comforting thought that Serenity had not been responding to her at all. Kaylee was tied up in wires, her lap filled wit tools and her face coveed in splotches and smears of grease and engine muck as she liked to call it. It was the lifeblood of Serenity there on her and Kaylee was feeling like Serenity had finally given her all for the last time. Disheartening. Kaylee still worked diligently on trying to get the Firefly-class vessel off the ground in order to keep Mal and everyone else happy. Kaylee would be glad once she was off the ground again, but even as she thought about it she thought about all the good things the City had given them so far.

There was the food, real food, not bags of powder that they tried to make food out of. Not bars of gross proteins or cakes made to look like chocolate but taste like mud. Even with her helping hand Kaylee couldn't get much out of the kitchen that tasted as good as it looked. Then there was all the interesting things she could see in the city. The movies, the books to read, the dresses to wear and the fancy technology she was itching to get her fingers on and try out. Finally there was Kyle, but even with Kyle being around now and then, it didn't replace Simon in her heart. She tried not to think of Simon and everytime she finally got him off her mind she found something that reminded her of him.

He'd tripped over this wrench. Kaylee held it in her hands tightly and gave a great sigh. She must have sighed too loudly because out from under the engine the pilot of Serenity gave a muffled curse, she must have made him hit his head. "Sorry Wash. Everythin' still ain't workin." Kaylee went back to tightening another bolt and then fiddling with the grav-thrust.

( She'd explained the different parts of the engine to Simon while laying under it with him one night. )

Jeannie was pleased as punch. Tickled pink. Which was most convenient, since pink was her favorite color and she was very fond of punch. Especially the kind that made her tipsy. She felt rather tipsy, even though she had not had anything to drink. She was just that happy.

( She had a master again! Sort of. )

Shameful. It was absolutely shameful that he'd been within the City for this long and this was his very first visit to its Museum of Natural History. Wash was far from being a scholar of Earth-That-Was, but had always had a healthy appreciation for the subject. Wash had thoughtfully wandered through the exhibits of ancient civilizations, local flora and fauna but it was no surprise that his eyes went delightfully wide as he followed his complimentary map into the large hall of dinosaurs.

Wash's eyes followed the elongated skeleton of the Apatosaurus as it climbed higher and higher to the ridiculously small head atop that long neck. The pilot cracked a smile as he looped around that first display. He'd seen quite a few things in his lifetime, back and forth form one end of the 'Verse to the other --but these gigantic creatures still captivated his imagination. Albeit an imagination that quietly gave them silly voices and traitorous plots for global domination. Folding the museum map, he shoved it into one of the leg pockets of his fatigue green cargo pants. He didn't need any more assistance, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Zoe had the map, and what with the weather letting up, she might actually have a decent chance in finding someone, anyone. The map though wasn't always the biggest help; it made her sick sometimes to look at it. Streets and dots moving this way and that. But, she wasn't going to let that stop her, not this time, not when she could find what she was looking for...finally.

So, with a new set of clothes, that were definitely lighter than the fare she'd been sporting, what with the snow and all, she headed out. The dot she'd marked as Wash, hoped was Wash, seemed to have settled for the day. Well, it hadn't moved, and she had to hope that that didn't mean he was dead. She actually had to stop as that thought came to mind; if he was dead again, she was going to kill him.

Grabbing a real cup of coffee, she might have become addicted, she made her way to where she thought the dot was. She didn't look like some tourist with the map open in front of her: one, she didn't want to look like an easy mark, and two, looking at the damn thing for long sent her into a tail spin. She wasn't going down that easily.

The Amazon wasn't all that surprised when she found herself at the docks; though, she did find the ship's new placement a little odd. How had they gotten it out of the warehouse? She didn't care; it just better be her ship with her crew, mainly with her husband.

She walked up to the cargo bay and entered the code to get in.

Things were not as they once had been.

There had been a time when Robin was a carefree outlaw, laughing in the face of the Sheriff, daring him into games of cat and mouse. The young Earl had been a spirited man of good humor and boundless energy, he had, in short, had a heart. That was lost these days. England seemed infinitely more gray and the gang, such as it was, had fallen into darker times. Their battle to right the wrongs of injustice had blurred, their pristine ideals stained with blood, his once master was turning into a man he no longer knew, and it pained much to a degree he dare not speak.

He knew why of course, they all did. None of them returned form the Holy Land the same as they'd left it. Each had suffered and left something behind...D'jaq and Will stayed. Allan gave up his chance to be the right hand of Gisburne and his intended regime. Much had lost part of what he admired and envied most in Robin, bur Locksely had suffered more grievously of all.

In all the years and all the bloodshed of war, Much had never seen such pain as he saw in Robin's eyes as the lady lay dying in his arms. Even then her strength carried on, she wed him with her last breath and she herself pulled out the killing blade to put her own body to rest. That was the turning point for his master. That was when Robin of Locksely, Earl of Huntington, hero of the King himself, lost his heart.
( They had returned to England, leaving behind memories and bodies. )

It'd been one helluva shindig. Laughter and music and drinkin' and dancin' and more drinkin'. Holes were punched in Jayne's memory, blotting out various points in time thanks to the vast amounts of alcohol he'd ingested. Although he might've been a man who knew his limits, that didn't exactly mean he was one to stick to them. At all.

He did remember settlin' in for the night at the inn with an awful pretty doxy, and he sure as shootin' made sure he got his money's worth before he rolled over and drifted off. He'd expected the Cap'n to come around early and start a-hollarin' outside'a the door, so imagine his surprise when he woke up of his own accord, the sunlight so hot and bright that it burned his eyes the second he started to open them.

Disgruntled, Jayne wrapped an arm up around his head, the bed feeling hard and uncomfortable beneath him. The blankets had been stripped from his body and he was laying in the light. He groaned loudly, reaching a hand out to see if the whore was gone, but his fingers grasped nothing but air.

The air felt cold and wet, despite the light, and in semi-conscious confusion Jayne rolled over to try and get comfortable. The next thing he knew, he'd fallen and hit the ground, and was shoulder-deep in snow.

( Cut for length... )

( a shot to the head and they're dead, right? )

Halloween.  Tony Stark's favorite time of the year.  The weather was perfect, not too hot or cold, trees around the city were changing colors.  And he had no reason in the world to complain here.  He and Pepper were together, and it'd been a blissful few weeks since their initial union.  For the first time in years, Tony could say he was happy and satisfied.

He'd sent out invitations city wide in hopes of drawing in the citizens to his home for him to have a chance to meet them.  He hadn't ventured out much since he'd been here, mostly because even if he was ever the social butterfly, Tony was too focused on fixing the once damaged relationship between him and Pepper.  Now that was all taken care of and here he stood in his bedroom putting on his costume.  He'd laid his choice of cstume out on Pepper's bed for her to put on, chosen since she'd lost to him in a little game they'd played to determine what they'd spend this night as.  It was custom tailored to fit her form perfectly, having taken the dress she'd worn for their first night together and used its measurements.

He stared at himself in the mirror, thinking that his goatee would make wearing the mask a little awkward at best, but he didn't care.  He thought since he should play the mysterious host of the night, that he should don the look of someone just as mysterious.  Taking a step back from the mirror, he attempted to twirl the cape, almost tangling himself up in it the first few times until he got the hang of it and smiled.  Affixing his mask to his face, he smirked as he gave his appearance one last once over.

The Phantom of the Opera was ready for his grand entrance.

[ooc: If you're character is showing up, feel free to start your own thread under this.  Tony will attempt to greet everyone but might not for getting sidetracked by others.  If you plan to crash the party, I will start a separate thread after a day or two to give people a chance to do regular party stuff.  Have fun, and don't be shy with your characters!  This is a very social log!]

There was pain, a great deal of pain, and fear. There was the certainty of failure. There was anger and awe. There was a whole helluva alot more feelings and emotions and all that goshe.

The Amazon jerked, punching at the air, kicking. Sure, she could be having a bad dream, but she knew differently. She knew that she'd been fighting for her life, and the deck had been stacked against her. There was no way she could have lost that easily, not with out taking the bastard with her. He'd have bought her life with his own. At least that was what she had planned, only it didn't happen that way. She had died, and now she wasn't...dead.

Zoe Washburne blinked as she sat up. It was her bedroom. Or more a facsimile there of, in a regular house. She knew she wasn't board ship - one because the walls looked too much like a building - not enough metal. Two? Because she remembered finding the key when she was searching Wash's pockets, for whatever reason a woman might inspect her husband's pants pockets when he was still in said pants.

As her mind shifted through things, her body aching from the fight, she came to decision. If he wasn't dead, he'd serve for what he did. And if the man hurt her husband...

"Wash?!?" She wasn't dressed for exploring more than the apartment. Actually she wasn't dressed at all. "Wash!" The Amazon took the time to find clothes, and thankfully, she found the clothes she was used to wearing on Serenity, not the frills and ruffles the City had obliged her to wear. "Wash, you better not be dead when I find you."

There they were on an all too open field; they were being fired on yet again, and it had passed the time to find a new hiding place. People were yelling, screaming, dying, and they were all doing what they could to stay alive. She felt the stinging heat of the shot and fired back; she'd assess the blood loss later. Somewhere someone was demanding that someone else pull them back, get them better cover, any ruttin' thing that'd keep them from losing every-nothing. She didn't hear anything else; it was all lost in an explosion she knew she'd die in....

Zoe jerked up from the awkward position she'd found to be the most comfortable to sleep in while sitting in a chair at bedside. She lowered her head to the bed, resting against it as she focused on the here and now, which was just as confusing if not more so than the battlefield. When people died, they stayed dead, yet she was sitting there beside her husband, the man she thought she'd lost. Simon had kept Wash in the Hospital too long for either Washburne's liking and had been strongly encouraged to release them. The Hospital was probably going to run out of jello and willing orderlies soon if Mr. Washburne wasn't released, so, once both were awake, they could go.

Zoe was now awake, and she soon looked up to see if Wash was. Her mind was already working on a plan to keep him from going back to the Serenity. It wasn't that she didn't want go back, so much as she wasn't sure she was ready to fly in it again. Anytime she thought of the Serenity in conjunction with her husband, she flashed through some wonderful times, but always ended up with that one image - his lifeless body skewered...

"Wash? Are you awake?"

Wash had been quietly thankful that upon arriving at the hospital that Simon didn't look at all surprised to see that he was, in fact, alive. He was equally happy to find out that all the preliminary tests and scans that he'd so patiently went through were coming back negative as far as serious injury went. While he wasn't so pleased to be kept in a hospital bed overnight for 'observation', there had been one saving grace to all of this. As Wash stirred awake by the warming of the morning light spilling in from his window, that saving grace was so faithfully sitting there at his bedside.

A warm tray of hospital food.

Don't get him wrong, he loved his wife. And while she wasn't in the hospital room at this exact moment, she'd been there with him through the majority of his time there; out of love and perhaps a little out of guilt since she was the one who landed him in there. Oh, but hospital food. It wasn't artificially created, it wasn't pressed into some food-like shape. He reached over to draw the rolling bed-tray over to settle over his lap. Wash picked the cover up off of the plastic tray and set it aside to reveal his breakfast.

Reheated waffles, slightly burnt sausage links, slices of orange, a small carton of milk and an odd favorite he'd discovered from his meal the evening before. "Ooooh..It's my little, brightly colored, jiggly friend again.." He commented to himself as he picked up the clear plastic cup of strawberry jello. "I don't know what you are, but the fact that you're apparently served with every meal is making this new place very promising."

(( This initial hunk of text is from a thread that happened via email. ))

"You know, I must have been absent the day they went over 'silencing beagles' in class when I was a kid. Boy is my face red." Wash said as he gripped the controls of the ship. The barking had been constant. Okay, not constant because sometimes the smallish dogs had broke up that canine banter with a long, drawn out howl. Either way, their assortment of bellowing and barking pierced through every wall and door and was making concentration on silly little things like.. oh.. landing, difficult. Even with the bit of cotton he'd snagged from the medbay shoved in his ears. A glance was stolen towards the figure standing beside him, Captain Malcolm Reynolds.

"The quicker you get 'er down on the ground, the quicker we all get back to not shouting over the chorus of hellhounds.." Mal clapped his hand onto the back of Wash's chair -- steadying himself for the shudder of the transition of passing through the approaching planet's atmosphere. "Not to mention the quicker we get paid, and that rubs me all kinds of the right way."

"Next time can we transport something small and mute? Things that come to mind are plastic ficus trees or perhaps those little, squishy bits people pack stuff with.. I could do with some "soft rustling" after this... okay.. hitting atmo.." Wash's gaze dropped back to the illuminated panel before him, monitoring the control Kaylee kept of the ship's engine as they passed through from the Black. The ship lurched, shuddering, and then the barking stopped. Wash's head snapped up -- where there should have been the aerial sight of clouds with parting glimpses of terrain -- there was terrain, from a purely terrestrial view. Not just terrain, either, interior terrain. Walls, like a small hangar built around the ship. The viewshield was smudged, foggy. The pilot was confused, seemingly frozen as his brain attempted to process what he was looking at. Had he passed out? Hadn't he just been in the sky?

"Captain..?" Slowly, Wash turned to look up at Mal -- finding nothing where the Captain had just been standing. "Mal?" This time the query was shouted a little louder, panic rising in his voice. Wash was pretty prepared when it came to piloting -- but having your ship.. land without you landing it? That was startling. As he reached for the ship's comm unit, it was then he realized the dimmed controls. Auxiliary power? But they'd just been running at 100%! In fact, aside from the lowered power, everything else was off, there wasn't the hum of the engine, there wasn't even the clamor of anyone running to the bridge to see why they'd suddenly stopped.

Wash depressed the comm button. "Hello?" There was an uncomfortable silence and no response. "Anyone?"

Nothing.

Wash spent more than an hour frantically running through the ship. Every bunk was searched, ever room torn through. Everything was in place, everything was where it should be, but it all looked untouched for years. Dusty. Abandoned. He'd call out for "anyone" and he'd call out for "Zoe".. but eventually those pleas for a response were begged from his wife alone. But there was nothing. Not even one blasted beagle. The cargo bay was empty. If this was an Alliance trick, it was a good one. Either they'd gone into wizardry or he was hallucinating. Slamming his hand against the controls to Serenity's cargo hatch, the doors parted with creaks and hissing, and Wash ran down the ramp into what looked like an abandoned storage facility -- a warehouse. No guards, no.. anything. The place looked as neglected as the ship. Light creeped in from one, human sized door along the metal wall and even said door was hanging by a thread to the doorway. Wash took one step towards the light, then paused -- remembering what Zoe might do in a situation like this. He turned back and hustled into the ship to return with a smaller gun from Jayne's collection. Hey, he wasn't exactly there to say no right now and Wash needed.. something.

Creeping towards the door, Wash's heart was pounding. This wasn't his deal. He stayed in the ship and the others explored new territories. But where were the others? Where was he for that matter? Drawing back the door a little to allow himself through, Wash took his first step into dank, humid air of The City docks.

( more... )