The Universe's Mixer

"I put your mail on your desk for you," Andrea told him. Lindsey, still half-asleep, just nodded as he made his way to the Mr. Coffee.

Lindsey didn't realize that he rarely received paper mail. Most things here were done via email, or in-person visits. Actual letters... as he poured the coffee, Lindsey started to realize that was a very rare thing. There weren't even a lot of government agencies here of the kind that just sent you things by default.

Coffee in hand, Lindsey went into his office, took off his coat, and sat down at his desk.

Sure enough, there was mail. There were two pieces of it. One was a bunch of pizza coupons for a new place that opened down the street. The other was a very official looking white envelope with a return address of CITY COURT on the side.

Lindsey took a quick sip of the coffee and tore the letter open with a pen.

He scanned it quickly, eyes dancing over the page to grasp why he was getting this and what in the Hell it was before processing the finer points.

Words stood out, right and left. IN THE MATTER OF THE CITY VS. RIVER TAM and NEW EVIDENCE and DINAH LANCE and PAMELA EISELY, AKA POISON IVY...

It was then that he got the most important part of the letter.

DISMISSED ALL CHARGES.

"Holy shit!" he yelled.

"Sugar, you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah... Andrea....I, uh, I gotta go out for a little while."

He sipped more of the coffee, grabbed the letter, and picked his coat back up. He smiled at Andrea and headed out the door, making a beeline for the hotel where he knew River Tam was staying. He'd been there a time or two to visit her about the case, so nobody kicked up a fuss about him heading up to her rooms now, and the front desk man actually waved at him and said good morning as Lindsey passed.

He knocked on the door, still smiling a little bit. He hoped River was here. Or Hannibal, even Hannibal. Or better yet, both of them.

Dinah wanted to help River. She still felt a great deal of guilt over not apprehending Poison Ivy while the ecoterrorist was still in the City. There had been a lot going on around the time that Ivy had showed up, but still... Dinah had been the only one in town who had experience with the redhead with a penchant for mind control and she hadn't done anything to stop the woman. As a result, a man was dead and another young woman was looking at potential life in prison for the crime.

Helping River wouldn't bring the park ranger back from the dead, but it was still a way of doing penance for letting Ivy slip through her fingers. After the meeting, Dinah had called Lindsey to set up a meeting of their own so she could discuss the ways in which she might be able to help with the case. She'd even pulled a few files on Ivy off the Clocktower's computer system-and yes, she'd managed that on her own for once.

Since the meeting itself ran the risk of being rather serious, Dinah had suggested that they grab a drink while they discussed it. There was only one bar in town that felt truly safe and so Caritas it was. Besides, Dinah hadn't seen Lorne in ages and she couldn't help but wonder how the green-skinned bartender was doing these days. He'd been one of the first people she'd met in the City and he'd certainly shown her kindness. Besides, she'd liked him pretty much from the start.

She'd suggested mid-afternoon so that hopefully it would be Lindsey's last meeting of the day yet they wouldn't be competing with the happy hour or later crowd. Once inside the bar, she grabbed a seat and kept her eyes out for a certain blond lawyer.

Maxine was now staying with Wash. Jo had mixed feelings about this. There was the blind relief because she wasn't anywhere near ready to be responsible for a five year old, but there was also an unexpected sadness. She missed the kid. Maxine would be back for weekends sometimes, but there was that. All the same, Jo found herself without plans for the night. No work, no kid, no Ted. She'd been curious about one of the other bars in town that seemed to cater to... unusual clientele. She'd heard things about Caritas and figured that now was as good a time as any to check out the club.

She wasn't dressed up-it was standard jeans and a black tank top. She wasn't here to meet and greet or attract attention. Just the opposite, in fact. She wanted to just blend in with the rest of the club. She was curious about the proprietor who supposedly could see bits and pieces of the future for people who sang karaoke. She'd also heard even stranger things about some of the denizens of the club. Potentially demons.

It seemed like the City had everything. Vampire bars, possibly demon bars. All of these creatures in one small, confined area. It was a wonder that anyone survived.

Lindsey was in at his usual time every day after meeting Hannibal Lecter.

He had plenty to look at with River Tam's case, and really, though he wasn't so sure this kid would grow up to be the monster that Anthony Hopkins played, Lindsey really wasn't about to get on the guy's bad side. He figured as long as he did his job--which he was very, very good at--that wasn't going to happen. He remembered a line from "The Silence of the Lambs" after watching it again, after Andrea found it: "He'd never go after me. I can't explain it. It's like he'd think it was impolite." Starling'd said it.

Today was no different, though when he arrived at work, Andrea looked sheepish.

"Everything okay?" he asked her.

"There's a Doctor Crane in your office to see you."

Lindsey sighed. "I didn't have any appointments."

"I know, but..."

"I'll go see 'em, just... enough with the early mornin' people thing," he muttered, passing her desk and going inside.

He set his coffee down and smiled at the man in the chair Lecter'd sat in just days ago. "Hi there, Doctor Crane. What can I do for you?"

The search for a lawyer who was not City born was a short one. The names that came up were very few. Hannibal was a little surprised by this fact, but glad of it as well. He needed to find somebody for River very quickly, and he didn't want to have to visit too many offices to discover just the person he needed. A City born lawyer wouldn't have the experience that Hannibal was looking for, the drive, nor the passion. He didn't trust the abilities of one who had never been outside the wall and didn't believe they would do enough.

He chose a name to begin with. Lindsey McDonald.

What he found at the office when he arrived was a nicely appointed space, not tacky, not too flashy. A lovely girl sitting outside a door with the attorney's name tastefully displayed. It did not take Hannibal much to convince her, Andrea, to let him wait inside despite not having an appointment time. She was loyal, he could see, but easily manipulated. He didn't know if this was a trait that she'd been chosen for specifically, or if it was just kind of a bonus. She knew enough to do her job, though he doubted she would be able to explain much of what went inside the inner sanctum.

Once in, he took the time to look around. There were adornments, things picked with care. None of it struck Hannibal as personal. He saw not a sign of what he would consider a man's true taste. He saw things that were expected of lawyers. Books on the law neatly arranged on shelves. Plush leather chairs for prospective clients or rivals. A beautiful wooden desk that was just a hair too big, but still on the right side of obscene. Swords on the walls. Such things that spoke of virility, power, conquest, nothing that could be construed as weakness.

Hannibal took up residence in one of the chairs and sat quietly, waiting.

The dinner invitation from Lindsey had been unexpected but very welcome. With Ollie missing, Lois now had exactly one person in the City who didn't seem to mind her company. Considering that the holidays were coming up, this wasn't exactly a great feeling. Lois had tried and failed to be okay with being alone for most of her life. Being a military brat had meant moving around and not many long-term friendships and things with her dad had never been exactly warm. All the same, she still needed people. Her time in Smallville with the Kents and with Chloe so close by had been the start of a new chapter in her life-she had stopped feeling alone after that, which made this life in the City that much harder to take sometimes.

All the same, she was happy to have a destination on this particular day and even happier to have a really cute guy at said destination. She still wasn't sure what the nature of their friendship was, but she knew that things weren't exactly platonic on her end. And she didn't know many guys who offered to cook Thanksgiving dinner if... hey, when it came down to it, she'd never had a guy offer to cook her Thanksgiving dinner for any reason.

She showed up a few minutes late-there had been a little bit of a kitchen snafu-with a bottle of wine and a slightly blackened sweet potato casserole. Hey, she'd tried. A for effort, right?

Takes place just after this

The night had gone very well in Lois's opinion. She'd gotten some good quotes and just enough backstory to keep things interesting in regards to the opening of the opera house. The article was still leaning toward puff piece, but Lois supposed that every reporter had to pay their dues on that sometime.

And besides, she'd had a fantastic night. The opera truly had lived up to the expectations and it had been... nice to be out with someone when it wasn't strictly business. Sure, she was there in a professional capacity. But Lindsey had been there as her date-or escort, or whatever the proper term was. It had been nice to have that. Nice to have someone to dance with and talk to. So far during her time in the City, she hadn't exactly made any friends. That wasn't new to Lois-she could be a little bit abrasive and with her line of work, friends usually didn't come easy. All the same, she wasn't hating the time spent with Lindsey.

Then again, Lois did have a knack for finding men who could be trouble. She hadn't forgotten Lorne's warning, nor would she just ignore it. She just knew that she couldn't live her life in fear of things that might or might not happen. And maybe that was part of what was attracting her to Lindsey-that mystery. She definitely didn't know the whole story and she couldn't help but wonder-it was in her nature to wonder. Maybe spending time with him wouldn't get her answers and she valued the new friendship (or whatever else it might be) too much to press too hard. All the same, she couldn't help but want to solve the mystery surrounding the lawyer.

"This is my place," she said as Lindsey's truck turned down the street where her apartment was.

Opening night for Verdi's La Traviata ran as smoothly as the City Opera House manager designed it. He allotted a certain number of complimentary tickets to be distributed by high-performing members of his production. Those lucky enough to receive these tickets were placed on a special guest list and personally escorted by the house staff to their box seats. The manager himself claimed a seat in Box 5, which was otherwise empty.

Tonight, the crowd glittered and shone brightly under the warm glow of the opera house. Attending the opera was as much about high art as it was about being seen. With every playbill this night came an invitation to the opening night celebration following after the performance. There, all would get their fill of the glamor brought out by opening night.

When the lights in the auditorium dimmed, so too did the chatter. Then began the orchestra, casting its spell with rich, full-bodied music. The pianist, one Hannibal Lecter, would be remembered by musical types for his mastery. But there was limelight enough for others, as well. The production's Violetta, Ms. Christine Daeé, sang soprano with a curious and heady combination of seduction and fresh youth, while the Flora of the opera, Ms. Enigma, carried the darker mezzo-soprano with an expert's touch. And when the lights came up, it was to the roar of an audience recognizing the triumph it just witnessed.

Once the curtain calls were done, the crowd began filtering down the staircase and into the Grand Foyer, where the night was just beginning. The wine flowed; the violins hummed -- a triumph indeed.

Lois had been chasing down answers on what had happened to the people who had disappeared and suddenly reappeared not too long ago. At least, she'd been attempting to chase down answers but had gotten quite a lot of misdirection and 'no comment' from those who might or might not have been involved. Her editor was breathing down her neck and so she'd been pulling a few more all-nighters lately.

Hence the coffee. Lois was pretty sure that even the most unreasonable of editors wouldn't begrudge their reporters a coffee break. Or even a breakfast break.

Lois was starving and she would argue that any good reporter kept themselves well-fed and well-caffeinated. Which was why she'd stopped in at a little cafe that had fantastic lattes and a nice selection of doughnuts.

She was currently holed up in the corner chasing down leads on the internet via her phone, all the while juggling the jelly doughnut and extra grande latte that were currently her lifeblood.

He wouldn't have been able to say what happened if he was asked. Quite frankly, he had no idea. One moment he was entering a hole in the wall in die Festung to sit down and nibble at food he had absolutely no interest in, pondering the blood of the woman he'd attacked and the curse she'd placed upon him, and the next, he was walking into a door.

Actually walking into it.

His head contacted the wood, and he looked around, confused. Lost. The smell was antiseptic. A smell he had become very familiar with. Bleach and ammonia to cover the scent of death and disease. The world he'd been living on did not have facilities such as these.

What's more, when he turned around, Aidan discovered that he was in blood storage. Surrounded by bags of the stuff. His instincts hit him quickly, and before he could stop himself, he was chewing through heavy plastic. When the cool blood hit his tongue, the pain that had been promised him ripped through his body. But he couldn't stop. He'd been without fresh supply for so long. The woman's had been strong, it had lasted him several days, but in the end, he'd drunk live. Live was always harder to quit. A stronger pull.

So he doubled over in pain, but pulled down several more bags with him to consume on the floor. Aidan pushed the plastic against his mouth to keep himself from crying out or screaming, but there was nothing to do to stop the tears that sprang to his eyes. It hurt so badly, yet at the same time, his system was happy with him. His hunger and need satisfied. It was enough that Aidan continued to drink despite the pain until he was ten bags down.

Able to relax some, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, content to lay there forever. Until he heard voices. This caused a panic, and he was up in a hurry. Picking up the empty receptacles and full ones, shoving them into an emergency transport container until the thing was almost too full to close. He wiped his face with his shirt and used his jacket to cover it up.

Blood drunk, but still able to sense he'd be in a lot of trouble and with enough wits to get himself out of the hospital, Aidan pushed the door open and made a break for the waiting room. He wasn't questioned until he was to the front doors, and by then it was already too late. He had what he wanted and he was free.

Only then did he take time to wonder about the place he'd been put.

(Takes place right after this thread)

Lois let Lindsey lead her into Caritas, not quite sure what to expect. Whatever she might have been expecting, the array of colorful, horned demons was not it. She instinctively moved a little bit closer to Lindsey.

"You sure this is the right place?" she said in a low voice.

She was open minded enough that if he said that these people weren't going to eat them for dinner, then she'd trust that for now.

She was also still curious to hear the answer to her question about the owner of this place. She'd heard rumors that people could go in and sing and have their fortunes read, or something along those lines. Of course, the last fortune teller she'd gone to had told her that she was destined to end up with a guy who wore tights and liked to fly. She might have previously joked about waiting for her crossdressing pilot, but after seeing those comics, she had a feeling that that fortune teller hadn't simply been some hack making up a laughable story. Maybe.

Sued. She was being sued. For libel. Lois wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or be completely pissed off.

She settled for a bit of both. After all, if you weren't making someone angry in journalism, you probably weren't doing your job.

There was the smallest part of her-the part that still sometimes indulged in Rocky Road at night and wished she had at least one friend in the City-that was sad about this. But that part was pretty much buried under the layers of armor that Lois was very good at wrapping around herself.

So instead, she had her head held high and was ready to fight this lawsuit when she let herself into the office of the lawyer that had been recommended to her.

She'd called ahead to make an appointment. While she might be pretty good at bursting in on people unexpected even she knew that there were some times when it was better to simply make an appointment.

The City was slowly devolving into a sort of panicked chaos. Jo could understand this, even if she wasn't all that broken up about the fact that streets were now stationary. Everything else, however, was a little bit nervewracking.

The Roadhouse still had a store of alcohol, but that was rapidly declining as people tried to drink away their concerns about the changed City and Jo could not for the life of her find where the shipments had come from before.

Which meant that she didn't worry too much about closing down the bar for a day. It was better than stressing about running out of booze, and she really wanted to check out what exactly was going on in the City.

She'd spotted the wall a few times, but it had seemed to go on forever. Now... well, the wall was high, but climbable. She'd brought gear to help with the climb and of course she had a gun, a knife, and a pack that held an EMF, rock salt, and a lighter. Just in case.

She was also dressed in the heaviest jacket she could find because the temperature in the usually pleasantly warm City was starting to drop and it had started to snow. She wasn't going to let the cold deter her though. Her curiosity won out over any desire to avoid the cold.

Once she touched down on the other side of the wall, she noticed that the trees were moving. And not from the wind. Which was... extremely eerie. All the same, she pressed on and kept walking through the forest until she came to an edge.

"Holy-" she muttered as she looked out over the drop off and saw stars. Lots and lots of stars and planets. They appeared to be moving, but then she realized that whatever planet or whatever it was that the City was on was actually the object that was moving.

She sat down, just a few inches from the edge and just stared in awe for a bit.

As it turned out, The City had a few tattoo parlors. Lindsey looked into all of them.

One had a reputation for doing shoddy work. Another had a reputation for tattooing people who came in drunk. There was a tattooist at one shop that had a huge portfolio of tribal work, and it could be seen at the shop's web site. A lot of the lines looked like the stuff Lindsey'd be getting redone. The man had himself a new client.

After a phone call describing what he wanted, and after a ten-minute consultation in person about price and amount of time the work would take, Lindsey had an appointment. By the end of the next day, he'd have himself a new set of protective tattoos. He'd be invisible to anything looking for him again, except for the naked eye. The Partners wouldn't see him. Neither would surveillance, though that was more of a funny perk than an outright objective.

He cancelled his afternoon appointments (there were only two, and they were for some easy stuff--small claims grade, easy crap) and headed out to City Ink. When he arrived, a girl with orange and blue hair and a nose piercing that reminded him of a bull smiled at him and took his coat. She took out the drawings Lindsey'd given over the day before, nodded at them, and said she'd go get Ben.

Ben, the tribal tattooist, was a skinny kid of about 25, who weighed maybe a buck twenty if he was lucky. He had stretched-out ear lobes and a hole in his chin Lindsey didn't understand, and a shaved head, as well as sleeve tattoos and a tattoo that stretched from the back of his neck to the top of his skull. He was wearing a wife-beater undershirt and pants that kept falling down slightly because he was so skinny.

"Okay. I'm gonna go set up my workstation. You want a water, or anything? We got some cookies Shauna made, too."

The orange-and-blue-headed bull girl grinned.

One giant ape settled in the zoo. The fact that there were facilities to handle Kong kind of made even Zatanna go “buh?”. Whatever. At least it was contained with minimal damage to anything or anyone. The new JLC seemed to be pulling together, personality conflicts not withstanding. They might just need to let Dinah take a free shot at their new comm guy though just to get it out of their system.

Zee had her own things going on outside of the League. She was trying to stay busy, get into the swing of things in the City since it looked like she was going to be here a while. She had her own research into what magical properties were present along with what she said she’d do for Lindsey. All of it was slow going since a lot of the things she was researching was temperamental at best. Shadowcrest would help or not as the house felt was necessary, and recently one thing kept coming up over and over in her research on the City: some sort of bar by the name Caritas. Apparently it was being suggested that she check it out. All righty, then. It wasn’t as if Zee’s social life was burning up her calendar so she took the subtle hint and went to look into this bar.

It was easy enough to find. Then again all she needed to do was call a City cab and she was taken right there. Yet one more piece of evidence that the taxi drivers were in league with some nefarious deal that they could navigate the changing streets with ease! Zee paid the driver with a respectable tip then headed into the bar.
( Read more... )

She'd been a little busy since she'd been hit by Lindsey's truck, but she hadn't forgotten that she owed him a thank you and an apology. Now that she wasn't limping quite so much she figured it was time to get on that. Being the season it was and as in the festive spirit as she was Zee decided this would be perfect.

Shopping was easy. The hard part was tracking down where Lindsey lived. All there had been on the business card he gave her was a phone number. She had tried a few scry spells but they didn't give reliable results with a map of the City since the dang streets changed all the time. Finally she tried the internet with a reverse phone look up and thwapped herself in the head as an address came right up. "Brilliant, Zee."

She called a cab, not wanting to rely on her own navigational skills. Teleporting was right out. The cab drivers must have some sort of weird pact with the City since he didn't have any trouble getting her to the Lindsey's. She overpaid him, hey it was the holidays!, then went up to the door, gift wrapped package tucked under her arm. This was going to suck if he wasn't home!

She rang the bell then pulled her new scarf closer around her neck.

Fred had been woken from a somewhat pleasant sleep by knocking upstairs. The knocking was rather demanding, and she was a little afraid that it would break something soon. She grabbed a robe, put on her slippers, and headed upstairs to find a rather large gruff looking man banging at the office outer door. She opened it and didn't get a chance to say anything. The man shoved paper at her and walked away with a grunt. She looked from the large man to the paper.

"But he said it was okay." She was more than a little confused.

Hours later she was sitting in an appointed room in a building she'd only passed by but never entered. City Courts. She was being sued. The room was seen as neutral territory. It looked like some room she'd seen on tv, when she had one that worked. She expected some really nice looking lawyers to come in to tell her what was going on. Maybe it was some weird joke. Maybe Jensen had broken into the court system and put out the summons. It was to get back for the rough handling?

She sat there in a nice skirt and sweater set. She had dressed up a little to look presentable. She didn't know who her lawyer would be, it was court appointed? She thought people usually picked their own lawyers when they were being sued. Didn't they see judges or something too? Let's just say this didn't seem right to her and her limited experience with courts and lawyers - it was all tv based.

"Jake Jensen vs. Winifred 'Fred' Burkle, Dinah Lance. Sexual Harassment, suing for emotional and physical abuse." Fred's nose wrinkled. "I didn't even think he knew who she was. This just don't make any sense." She wasn't even certain the summons looked right. Someone was playing at someone, surely.

She and Dinah were going to look into getting members for a new League together. That made Zatanna feel good, especially considering her history with the League and Batman, but bygones were apparently bygones and she'll take whatever chance she can get! It did mean that she needed to get to know the City a bit better. She thought the best way to do that was to put Fred's theory of random teleportation to the test. Her working theory was that so long as she wasn't trying to get out of the City, was working with it the teleports shouldn't be that terrible.

The best laid plans of mice and mystics should be her new motto. Her teleport planted her right in the middle of a road, facing down an oncoming pickup truck. She only had enough time to gasp out a profanity before it connected with her, sending her sprawling and her hat flying off her head to land perfectly on the hood of the truck.

There were things that were extremely important to Aziraphale. Saving souls had been the highest point on the list until Armageddon had loomed. Stopping the Antichrist from destroying the world had then taken precedence.

Just below those two ethereal priorities, were his books.

His bookstore had always been a front. It wasn't so much a place to sell books as a place to keep them. His collection held only first editions, and rare books that were not only out of print, but that few, if any, knew had ever been printed in the first place. One of the greatest challenges of his long life was to avoid selling them. There was the necessity of money, and occasionally he had been forced to part with a dear friend or two in order to live comfortably, but somehow or another he always managed to get them back. And when other collectors contacted him regarding a specific volume, Aziraphale always convinced them it was in their best interest not to pursue the search any longer.

For an angel, he could be very persuasive in ways that were far more Crowley's style.

( When the storm hit... )

He didn't want to sleep in that office.

Lindsey was glad to be out of... wherever the fuck it was that he was, with that basement, and the fake wife, and the fake kid... but he didn't believe for a second that this wasn't another one of Wolfram and Hart's tricks. There were innumerable hell dimensions. This was probably just another one.

It was really unlikely he'd see 'his' L.A. again, or Eve again. That second part made his chest hurt.

Almost immediately after arriving and checking out his office, trying to find a letterhead that said something other than LINDSEY MCDONALD, ATTORNEY AT LAW on it, Lindsey was out the door.

The street out here was pretty normal looking, but that didn't mean anything. He felt exposed here, and he didn't like it. Those tattoos were starting to look like a good idea again. He could find a tattoo artist to re-do them, he knew. He furrowed his eyebrows, half-glaring, and continued down the street.

When he saw a convenience store, he ducked in, looking for a newspaper or something that'd tell him where he was. There was a t.v. on behind the clerk and it was running news he didn't recognize, but it wasn't mentioning the name of where he was.

There wasn't anyone else in the store besides the clerk, who went from half-asleep to full-on asleep, looking seriously like he might be dead. Lindsey scowled, pushing his hair off his face, and looked up when the bell on the door rang. Good. Maybe he could get some answers, now.

A blonde woman walked in, and Lindsey turned on his best million-watt smile. "Hey, 'scuse me," he said. "Sorry, the clerk seems a little checked out. Do you see newspapers in here anywhere?"