The Universe's Mixer

For a day in the middle of February, the weather wasn’t half bad. Compared to how nasty Perivale got around this time every year, the City was a nice place. Ace decided to take advantage of the non-snow day and work outside. It was always safer to mix explosives in a large, open area than in a cramped hotel room. As long as the police weren’t around to stop you. Besides, what else were you suppose to do on Valentine’s Day?

Ace went exploring The City, trying to find the best place to set up a work area. Nothing was really suitable, if she was honest. It was starting to look like she was going to have to stick with the lab in the TARDIS. Maybe she could get something small set up in the hotel room she was renting. That could work if she remembered to keep the maids out. Cleaning crews always seemed to throw out the stuff she needed.

( She found a bench )

The City was so strange. Fred still didn't understand how she could have met two brothers when they were nowhere near each other. She didn't understand how she had stumbled on Angel, or how Wesley had stumbled on her with Angel, not that she was really with Angel, but she was around him, so she could be considered with Angel. It had even let her find Sam again. Yet, it had managed to help her avoid, well, not avoid because she wasn't looking to miss him or pass by him, but it had somehow managed to allow her to not see him - him being Pietro, this time. Of course, she hadn't really seen Norman either, so maybe that was a sign. Or maybe chance hadn't worked in a way to let her see them, not that she fully believed in chance. Yet, probabilities were bound to take place. She really needed to find something more to do than look for her friends, or acquaintances. She couldn't be defined by those she knew, right? She shouldn't be...

( So, what was Fred doing? )

Will sat on the curb in the strange city, trying to re-wrap his trailing bandage. His hand was bleeding again, or maybe just bleeding more. He couldn't tell if it had ever stopped. He didn't think about how he looked, a twelve year old boy with a torn bed-sheet as a makeshift bandage wrapped around his left hand, but he hoped no one would cause a scene. He didn't know this world, or why the knife had brought him here instead of his Oxford.
Bandage tightened and frayed ends tucked in, Will took out the knife. At first he thought it was the light, but when he looked closer, he realized that the infinitely subtle edge, the edge that could cut him a window back to Cittagazze, was dull. It looked like it would still cut through solid lead, but he would not be able to get back to Lyra and Pan, or his mother. His breath came quickly and his hand began to throb as his heart rate rose. He sat down again, suddenly lightheaded, and rested his forehead on his knees. No, no, it wasn't right, he had to get back to his mother! He had to get back to Lyra, had to find his father...
But without the knife, none of it was possible. Will tried his very hardest not to cry, but there was no reason not to. There was no one around, no one to help. He was stuck.


OOC: Open to anyone, but he'll be needing some medical attention soon... *hint*

Connor wasn't one for surprises. I mean, sure, he liked to joke around with his brother, but for serious pranks, that was left to other people. Working at the meat packing plant had certainly eaten a lot of their time up a few months ago, but ever since the discovery of 'The Duke' being their father, things were very different. The money they had procured from the hits in the beginning had been enough to sustain his 2 main food groups. Pizza and beer.

That random Wednesday he will not likely forget. He awoke to be standing in his disheveled room, with the other bed empty of his brother. Normally, his brother woke him, or visa-versa, so seeing the bed that way was...a little out of the ordinary. Quickly he threw on a black T-Shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Lacing his boots up, he then headed out the door, to see something that wasn't supposed to be there. A hallway. They traded in their squatting apartment for one with their father...and it wasn't on an upper floor. It was on the first floor. He walked briskly to the right of their door, passing several doors that he still did not recognize.

At the end of the building was a window. He stopped, weighed his options, and went back to his room to get a gun. Picking up his hand gun and two extra clips, he strapped them into his black boot and headed back towards the window. Connor was on the third floor of a building he didn't recognize, and a city he had never been to. That was bad. What made it ever worse, is his brother and father were nowhere to be found. Exiting the building via fire escape, he hit the pavement and stood completely still.

"Well, this is certainly sucks. How the fuck did I end up here?" he said in his southern Boston-Irish dialect. He scratched his head.

Things were not looking good. Not good at all.

Elle didn't know how she got here and where here was but that didn't make her freak out like it might have made other people freak out. Sure, she didn't know where daddy was, and the company's door had closed behind her and freaking disappeared. But that was no cause to panic. She just needed to find the way out of here, wherever here was. Maybe she was trapped in someones mind. Yeah, someone had that ability, she'd read that on a file. It could be, but there were a ton of people here. A ton of people. Elle stood there watching as the milled around like everyday normal people. This wasn't a nightmare or anything strange like that. Elle started off to look for the answer to where she was. Coming across a paper on the crowd she picked it up.

The City.

What city?

( It didn't say what city. )

Somewhere, not too far away, someone was singing. Pietro could not make out the words, and the tune was foreign to him, but the song had a good beat and was surprisingly cheerful given the ongoing zombie apocalypse. Zombies. At least, where he was from, the dead stayed dead.

Usually.

He was back in the black suit that Fred had suggested he abandon some time prior, but he had a long coat on over it and it helped to mask the ridiculousness of the outfit. Hey. His X-Men costume was aerodynamic, albeit slightly unfashionable in most places. With the walking dead wandering the City, he wanted to be prepared.

He was on high alert, and therefore a little more twitchy than usual. He had a bat in hand, and he kept hefting it experimentally. He moved in bursts, running a block or two and then slowing to look for people who seemed to be walking instead of shambling along like something from one of those corny movies that he'd seen on the television since he'd come to the City.

Pietro had enough self-control to stay calm, but it was growing more and more difficult to stay patient. He'd been around the City more than once already, and he'd found no sign of any familiar landmarks, much less any familiar faces. He found it all vaguely unsettling, from the completely mundane sight of a drugstore on a corner to the perfectly polite waitress who delivered his breakfast. Breakfast. At a restaurant.

It was bizarre.

Equally bizarre was the way they all walked about, perfectly unconcerned and focused upon their business. After his first morning snack, Pietro had set himself upon a park bench and had began watching the pedestrian traffic. He wore the nervous, disbelieving air of someone who either expected trouble, or had recently come from trouble. He'd been there five minutes already, and he'd long since passed 'twitchy.' He was going to have to move soon. He'd been still too long, in the open too long. Maybe two more minutes. Two minutes and he'd be on his way.

A shoe hit the pavement in rapid, staccato taps. Where was he? He'd asked, and a bemused woman had told him that he was in the City. As if it had been self-evident. And then, in a very gentle tone, she'd asked him if he was new.

To be honest, he didn't care where he was. That wasn't what bothered him. Maybe it was more of that time/dimensional travel business - it didn't matter. No, Pietro only wanted to know where the others were. Storm. Blink. His father. By some miracle, Pietro was still alive. Had the others survived, too?

Okay, yeah, he was getting up. Time to start looking for them, again.