The Universe's Mixer

It had taken some work, the notion that formed in the leprechaun's head. He admitted he was curious as to the way the City had kept the Djinn away from him, since they had a stint there where it felt like that infernal woman was everywhere he went. Always, as she tended to do, interfering with his day-to-day activities. And she was horribly judgmental. Not to mention ungrateful. Just when he was trying to take the high road, be the better person and make sure she got to safety... she acted out against him again.

( If Sweeney didn't know better, he'd have thought Jeannie liked him. )

Lois was still getting used to the concept of the City. She was still adjusting to the fact that she was stranded in a place where everything moved around and there were genies and leprechauns and the Mayor was literally from Wonderland. Wonderland! Of all the ridiculous things...

Worst of all was the fact that she'd thought she'd left behind the 'new kid' feeling when she'd graduated high school. She was supposed to have grown out of wanting to fit in when she went somewhere new.

Not to mention that she'd actually started to make a home in Smallville. She'd been there longer than anywhere else in her life as an army brat, being toted from base to base like a piece of luggage.

And yet, even though she was definitely a big girl now, she still felt that 'new kid' pang at being in the City. So far the only person she really knew was Ollie, who she'd seen all of one time. Just long enough to get the rundown on this crazy place and find out that her ex was now hanging around with the blonde bombshell in fishnets that had trashed his apartment shortly before they'd broken up.

She missed Chloe, and Jimmy. And even Clark. Not that she'd ever admit that to him, but she did miss him. Just a little bit. She would even be happy to hear the chair in the desk across from hers at the City Voice start squeaking, if only to see his smug grin at doing something so obviously obnoxious.

She was trying to bury herself in her work, but tonight was a rare night when all of her leads had dried up, and when the assignment board had already been picked over. So here she was, alone in a strange City with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

Luckily, there was a bar on the corner just down the street from her apartment. Lois would happily spend a night in margaritaville, and hopefully amongst the camaraderie of her fellow barflies. It was better than staying in with a movie, a pint of Rocky Road, and far too much to mull over.

The storm had come and gone and Ivy had been forced to watch and feel her babies deaths. She had withdrawn into herself moreso than usual and was currently muttering to a tree as she did her best to help it grow.

She had practically needed to start from scratch, but she would work with what she could. A thousand storms could come through and she would replant and tend to those plants and she would continue with her mission to improve the environment in this City.

She had no choice, after all. She wasn't here because she'd promised to repair the environment like she had with Gotham. No, she was here because she physically couldn't leave. She resented whatever power had trapped her here and forced her to watch the systematic destruction of the family she'd grown over her past few months here.

She would repair the damages. Those plants that were lost couldn't truly be replaced, but she could grow new babies. She would have to, or she'd go mad with grief. Of course, it was possible she was already mad with grief, not that she was the best person to judge her own sanity.

Mad Sweeney was no fool. Ok, sometimes he was a fool, like when he had been dealing with Jeannie. Maybe it was better to say he wasn't stupid. No, even he was prone to making stupid decisions. Perhaps it was best to say he was an intelligent man. That seemed fair.

Regardless of what one wanted to call it, Sweeney was bright enough to know what was going on. There were animals everywhere and not just your common urban animal folk, either. Not just squirrels and bunnies and things. No, there were wolves running amok and other such creatures... and Sweeney was pretty sure he saw a bear too.

At first he considered that perhaps the zoo was having more problems than just the escaped large mystery wolf. But then.... then, he saw what he thought was someone transform one night and it hit him. Well, why the hell not. The City had brought forth plagues of Godzilla, zombies.... little leprechauns. ( He was still sore about that last one. )

Guy of Gisborne was ready for a drink. It had been a very long… How long had all of this been going on? It felt as if almost every moment he had been in this strange place had been some sort of trial for him. Was he there to prove that he was more than just the Sheriff of Nottingham’s hired man? Was this a place for him to be the knight he had always meant to be? Or was this just to torture him by showing him what might have been before throwing him back under the shadow of Robin Hood and the sheriff.

( He would rather have a drink. )

Sweeney was sore.

Not the kind of sore after a grand night on the town or from a cheerful romp No, this was the sort of sore that told him that he hadn't slept in his bed last night. The sort of sore that indicated he was waking up on a park bench that was far too short for his long frame. ( He came to that conclusion when he realized that he was on his back and that his legs were partially dangling off the plank he was laying upon. )

“Play us a song you're the piano man,” Sweeney sang in a raspy voice. He wasn't the greatest singer there ever was, but he was far from the worst. He was sitting on a bar stool at the closest bar to his apartment in a tshirt with a pole dancing woman’s silhouette on it and the words: I support single moms. His hair was mussed, but he didn't care. Really, he was just one step above scrub today.

Or perhaps wino since he'd started the day in the park with the bottle of rail whiskey wrapped in a brown paper bag. It was on his way home that he decided to have a drink and a bite of greasy bar food before going to pass out on his City furnished sofa.

Perhaps he was a little depressed. Perhaps he was just overly intoxicated, but his eyes were glassy as he sang along to the Billy Joel song blasting out of the jukebox. Funny, he wasn't usually one for mushy sentiment, even in music, but this song spoke to him. “Sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody and you've got us feelin' all right.”

Oh he was drunk. He was so ridiculously drunk. Sweeney rested his forehead in his hand and sighed before taking another lazy sip from his glass even though he wasn't sure there was even alcohol in it anymore. It was possible the bartender had started giving him some virgin mix that looked authentic, but it wasn't sweet enough to be straight soda. Even so, Sweeney was suspicious, but too drunk to do anything about it.

Buffy walked calmly down the hallway. The alarms were loud enough that the sound in her ears had temporarily dulled, while lights flashed on and off like camera flashes. The Slayer couldn't remember who she was looking for-- someone who had helped her. Someone British. The only thing she could remember, having woken up early from the medication she'd been given, was Sherlock Holmes stories. At least fragments of them. They didn't help her deduce anything about the current situation except that she was leaving. Now.

"SLAYER."

Orderlies rounded the corner equipped with tranquilizer guns and fired. Buffy had less than a second to duck and did so, as unfriendly looking darts embedded themselves into the wall. Buffy blinked, still hazy. Her head was swimming like she'd woken up from a lengthy slumber. She didn't waste any time charging, leaping in midair and in a cinematic kick. All three medical staff went down like dominos, unconscious. Though Buffy didn't have much experience with firearms, she'd used a tranquilizer gun pretty effectively against a werewolf before. Crouching down she picked up one of the guns and kept walking.

She walked past doors but it wasn't until she passed one with someone locked in a room that she stopped.

"Come on slayer strength. Don't go all wiggy on me now."

Buffy ripped the door off its hinges.

"Alright, who all is for leaving this crazy train?"

Sweeney wasn’t happy, but he was surprisingly calm for someone who had been denied his cigarettes and booze. Instead he chewed on a piece of rolled up paper that he’d previously inscribed the words “Fuck Bran” repeatedly in purple crayon on. He fumbled through the cards in his hand, organizing, strategizing, all without looking up from his cards or giving any indication on his face as to what was in his hand.

He transferred his hand of cards to his left hand completely and brought his right hand up to fiddle with the rolled up paper between his teeth. Sweeney pulled it out as if to speak, narrowed his brow, put it back between his teeth and fiddled with the cards again.

( He knew where he was without a clue how he got there. )

Sweeney still could not find his apartment. Damn City with it's continuous changing ways. So drunk, and still relatively pissed off from his altercation with the Djinn, Sweeney fell over and slept where he landed. It was when he woke up that confusion set in.

( First of all, he was uncomfortable, and not just from laying on the ground. )

Sweeney woke up initially with a pounding headache. He wasn't quite sure what had happened at all. There was something oddly familiar about the stench of his locale. Given that in his time in the City he'd taken care to clean himself up a bit, this was not comforting. It helped that everything he wanted was at his fingertips. Thankfully the City provided where necessity was.

He'd gone and gotten himself a flat. The only trouble being that from day to day it became difficult to find it. That was given the City's propensity for moving things around at whim. Normally he found it after a few hours. That was unless he was so blue-blind paralytic drunk that he couldn't make his way around decently.

( Where Sweeney found himself, though, was not in his flat. )

Harley draped herself over the throne casually. As though it was every day she sat on an actual throne. In a throne room. ( In her very own castle! )

Sweeney was enjoying life in the only way he knew how. With a flask of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. There were other things that would make his life even better, but those were things he didn't have access to. Not at present and not in the recent past either. So he was satisfied with what he had.

His hair was clean, his clothes were clean, he was doing well with having a place to live -no matter that he had enjoyed the vagabond lifestyle before being pulled into this City. He'd even momentarily given up on his quest for the missing coin that the pirate had. Hell, not even the foul-tempered Djinn could remove the smile from his face.

( Everything was alright with the world at the moment, from his opinion. )

Jack wasn't sure what was going on lately but it was equal parts frustrating and confusing.  Gwen and Ianto being here was definitely a very good thing but it still irked him and he had so many questions.  How did they get here?  Where was here?  Was this heaven and they were all dead, even Jack?  Had he finally figured out a way to die and stay dead without even realising it?

He sighed in frustration and looked up to see the bar in front of him.  Funny he hadn't realised he was anywhere near there.  But then again, whatwas it someone told him, the City takes you where you need to be, not necessarily where you want to go?  Or maybe it was something different but it was close to that.  He pushed open the door and stepped inside.  There weren't a lot of people there and Jack moved to the end of the bar and sat down.  He moved his great coat out of the way and leaned on his elbows as he reached for the bowl of bar nuts.

Getting the bartender's attention, he ordered a plain glass of guiness, smiling as it didn't take long to get his pint. Jack smiled and thanked the man before taking a longer than usual drink.  He turned a bit to his right so he could keep looking around, see who was actually here and if it was anyone he knew.

The grocery store was a place of wonder; the food was right there and fresh. It begged to be touched, caressed, taken, which was exactly what Zoe was doing. She'd decided that since she found her husband and since the power was working, that she'd have to make dinner. Actually, seeing as no one was around to do it, she was making something more appetizing than those damn protein bars that Wash had returned to eating since he boarded Serenity again.

Actually, the Amazon was happy to be cooking with real food; it was a rarity that wouldn't grow old too soon. They had to scrimp and save for real berries, berries that Kaylee loved, and now they could simply go get them at a store, a grocery store. The Amazon was feeling motherly, so she put a few containers of the berries into the basket. She'd already stacked different vegetables and fruits into the buggy, some she knew, some she didn't - it didn't matter, they were going to try them all.

Moving from produce to meat, Zoe smiled. They would have real meat on board, meat that didn't moo or create a mess. It was already dead and butchered for cooking. All they had to do was cook it. She started looking over the different cuts; stew seemed the easiest and quickest, and it could take a good many of the vegetables. Stew meat, she even liked that the packages were marked. Who knew that she could be so very domestic? Sometimes she wondered if the City hadn't changed her, hadn't made her into a new person.

Little did she know that she was about to become an even newer, and possibly not so improved, Zoe Washburne.

Everything in this city was weird. Elizabeth couldn't get over that. Nothing was what it seemed and she was pretty sure there was no way to get back to reality. What happened with Will? And the war? Did any of the pirates survive? Did Barbosa double cross them in the end? Elizabeth didn't want to think on it too much, it would just depress her in the end. The snow was annoying as hell and she kept having to break ice off the deck, railings, and riggings of the pearl. She did not need it to sink under the weight. It was the only thing that reminded her of home these days.

Elizabeth finally stepped down onto the docks and stuffed her hands into her jacket, it was cold, but she wanted to go find some more rum. She started down the docks and off into the city. One turn, two, she knew this by heart now. Course, the City kept changing things on her as well. Where the hell was that bar? She went around another corner and nearly ran right into someone. She tipped her hat and kept going. By the sea it was cold.

Elizabeth finally found what she was looking for and headed inside. She scraped the snow off her boots at the door and sauntered over to the bar. The Bartender as already pouring her a glass of rum. Elizabeth sat down on the stool and fixed her sword belt. Before she nodded with a smile at the bartender. "Please keep them coming good sir." She took some money out of her pocket and laid it on the bar in front of her. She looked down the bar. There was a flash of red hair for a moment, almost familiar. Elizabeth shrugged it off and tipped the first shot of rum back.

She was turning into an alcoholic. Honestly.

Mad Sweeney yawned and pulled a bic lighter out of his pocket, flicking it to light a few times before tossing it into the air and catching it again. His cigarette was already lit and pinched between his lips, but his hands required something to play with. The trouble with lighters was that they were difficult to balance, difficult to judge how they'd land.

Within a moment he had dropped the lighter back into his pocket and kicked at a tuft of snow on the ground. There wasn't much, but enough to kick at in disdain.

He was walking through the Botanical Gardens, more people watching than looking at the scenery. Boredom did that to Sweeney. It made him stare at passerby and fantasize about the kind of people they were. About their lives.

Like the man he was currently watching. Tall, dark, handsome by most standards. He was probably an attorney or a doctor. One who made a large sum of money and spent it with abandon. Probably had six or seven women stashed away in various parts of the city... Probably...

Sweeney stopped in his thoughts just long enough to pluck a coin from thin air, from his hoard. He flipped it in the air a few times before letting it rest in his palm. All things considered, things were good.

When Sweeney fell asleep outside his apartment door, he had been a dog. Outside it because he lacked the dexterity and thumbs, not to mention overall height, required to turn a door knob and let himself in. When he woke up, curled up on the floor of the hallway, he was a man again.

Oh when he got his hands on that Djinn, she was in for it. She was really in for it.

( He was Mad Sweeney. Suibhne Geilt. )

Jeannie had been thoroughly disappointed by her visit to the Magic Box. The Willow Witch was not there and the lady to whom she spoke did not know where she had gone or when she would be back. Nor had she, herself, heard of Spike. That was very depressing for the djinn, as she was quite fond of him. He was so very sweet.

Standing on the street corner after leaving the shop, she chewed her lower lip and watched the street light for a few minutes, hoping that her master would give her a sign. But the City was somewhat silent, telling her only that she could now walk. So that was what she did, crossing the street, but once on the opposite side, she paused again.

Looking down, she unsnapped her purse and looked inside. There really was no other recourse. She had no one else to talk to. She knew only a handful of people in this place, and one of them was currently missing. Besides, now that the rude leprechaun was in a size more appropriate to his actual importance, he was far less irritating. And he might possibly be beginning to grow on her. Who knew. Someday, she might feel bad enough for turning him into a Chihuahua that she would return him to his previous form. Not any time soon, but someday. Perhaps.

“I do not know what else to do,” she confessed to him. “I have looked everywhere I know to look, and I cannot blink to where he is. I have tried that. Nothing happens. I find that very worrying, do you not? That my blink does not work in locating my friend? I do not think that should happen. What if something has happened to him? Oh dear.”

Jeannie sighed and looked up, glancing around as though Spike might suddenly appear, simply because she had been speaking of him. But he did not, and she could only repeat, “Oh dear.”

Lex Luthor wasn't used to doing his own laundry. He wasn't used to doing a lot of things on his own. Oh, he could do his laundry, he just...wasn't used to it. Thankfully a dry cleaners was just down the street from his apartment. The same apartment that this City had provided for him with furniture and decor and suits in the closet. The past weeks had almost been a blur, but in a way it was almost refreshing. No responsibilities. None at all. All he had to do was wander around, getting acclimated with the City, finding his way.

He hooked the hanger over his shoulder, making his way down the street, not really in a hurry. Honestly, he had no where to be. No pressing meeting or corporate take over. It was nice. Nice was an understatement. Lex Luthor, President of the United States, was picking up his own dry cleaning. And he was in a good mood.