The Universe's Mixer

Rufio had a problem. An embarassing one, too. He'd been battling a group of thugs when one had pulled a knife and glanced his side. He was an expert swordsman, yet somehow the street scum had gotten in when he was running another thug through, and he'd just barely dodged in time.

Finishing the group off quickly wasn't hard. After he'd killed two the rest took off, and the youth stopped, breathing heavily and looking at his side. It wasn't a deep cut, but it was long, running just below his ribcage. And there was a lot of blood.

He sheathed his still bloody sword and took off into the air, flying to the hospital. He knew what it was for, but the idea of just strolling in there and having them take away his sword was inconcievable. Instead the boy flew around till he found a window in the back which looked into a store room. Breaking in was easy enough, he was still small enough to slip through a window pane that would keep out a grown man, even if he did leave a fairly obvious blood smear across the pane. Inside the small closet he looked around, searching for bandages. He could mend himself without the help of any grownups, he'd only lost enough blood to make his head a bit foggy, after all.

Rufio hadn't moved much from where he'd gone when Tink had left. He was still curled up in the corner, if he moved from there during his nightmares he quickly retreated back when he had the sense to.

He paused when the door opened, braced for the old man to come back in, but froze when instead he saw a very beaten looking Enigma, standing with her leg in a cast and the rest of her looking hurt. Rufio stood up and hurried over, then paused.

"Enigma?" he asked hesitantly. "Is it really you or another dream?" He was exhausted from not sleeping and thrashing about in his terrors.

Rufio was more miserable than he could ever remember being.

It was bad enough that he'd been caught by some weird old man who came in every once in a while and gassed him, then asked him what was coming out of the dark to scare him, but even the lulls in between the visits and the effects wearing off the young Pan couldn't get his mind together enough to escape. Couldn't even capture a happy thought to try flying out. The "resting room" he was locked in had no weapons, no secret passages... it was plain and ugly and boring. He didn't know how to work with that.

Thankfully there was at least a window, and that was cracked open, so when he had enough of his senses to do so he went to it, looking out towards the City and letting the cool air try to wake him up so the nightmares didn't hound him as long.

He closed his eyes, resolutely not crying. Crying was for the younger boys, and girls. And pirates when they got hurt badly. The Pan never cried, it was practically a rule.

He did wish, though. He knew if Tinkerbell could find him he'd work something out with her, hatch some escape plot. And then he could leave, tell Enigma that her fathers were the worst parents even he had ever heard of, and then lock himself away in his own little Neverland and plot his revenge.

First, though, he needed his fairy.

It was brilliant to fly again.

Rufio soared through the City, going as high as he could and then free falling for a bit to feel the adrenaline rush. Reacquainting himself with the tallest towers and roofs he simply couldn't make it to without pixie dust.

Tink being with him had put him in a better mood than he'd been in ages, and after finishing a new apartment for her he'd gone to spread his joy throughout the City. Which, of course, was mostly just graffitiing and petty crimes, but it was all in good fun. He even let a cop chase him for a while, just to see if he could get away.

Eventually, though, his attention was drawn to a large, imposing looking building he had noticed before but never explored properly. It had a fence and the usual efforts to keep random people out, but Rufio wasn't random and not really a "people", either. He floated in and around the building, finding a few people who wore the same clothes as some people did in the hospital, except they didn't look injured. Just like most of them were ships missing a few sails.

Flying over to a tall fence Rufio landed lightly, crouching between the spikes on top and looking down at a man who had spotted him, and was staring at him as if he were trying to work out if Rufio was really there or not.

"Are you an angel?" he asked after a moment. Rufio blinked, then smirked.

"No. I'm a Lost Boy. Hey, what is this place?"

"A Lost Boy? Oh... you belong here, then. This is the place for lost things. Well. People who have lost things," the man said, sighing and then walking away. Rufio blinked, then flew up again, most curious than ever. There seemed to be some kind of security at most of the doors, so he stealthily circled the building and tried the upper level windows, well, the ones without bars on them, and eventually made his way into a hallway.

Thrusting his multi-colored paint stained fingers into his jeans, the Pan walked casually down the corridor, finding himself in a place that looked like a hospital but had little windows on the doors. Rufio frowned and went to open one door, but it was locked, so instead he lifted the cover to the small window, peering in. The howling that exploded from within came a split second before a large body flung itself at the little window, and with a startled yelp Rufio launched himself backwards, drawing his golden sword in a flash and crouching in the corner between the wall and ceiling opposite the door he'd just tried to open. However, the cry stopped as soon as the little window fell shut again, and Rufio was left breathing heavily, still in the air, feet and non-weapon wielding hand braced against the wall and ceiling so he could launch himself quickly again if he needed to.

Rufio had had nothing less than a blast with Enigma, setting fire to buildings in the City and causing general mayhem. And it certainly stirred up the troublemaking blood in his veins. After only a day of sleeping off the initial rowdiness, Rufio had struck up his old habits, skating through the streets and alternating pickpocketing and taunting different adults to get them riled up, and tagging buildings and signs with the Lost Boys' symbols and drawings.

After a few days he decided to take a break, and getting a lunch of sugary cakes and soda from the local convenience store he went to a building with a nice roof for sitting and observing, and perched on the edge, putting down his skateboard and danging his legs over the side. He munched on one of the chocolate cakes and looked around, wondering what Enigma was up to, and what he could cause on his own. He also wondered if the Mayor had noticed thier trouble making, and if it was disrupting for him. The tri-hawked teenager hoped it was.

As the first sugar ruch kicked in he laughed at the look that might have been on Jack's face, and leaned back, letting out one of his victory crows. He'd visit the mayor soon and make sure the old man knew who'd set fire to the government buildings. Maybe it would be enough to kick up another fight.

Enigma leaned against the park bench, waiting for Marcus to deliver her present to her. He had sent the man after Rufio, hoping he would manage to lure the other teen over to where she waited, but she doubted her right hand would have an easy time of it. Of course, he could just hog tie him and toss him in the back of her car, but she had told him to be gentle.

Crossing one booted food over the other, she pulled out her PDA, checking off a few things, before tuning into her security feeds, frowning as she watched Bruce approaching Stark tower, her hand clenching on the phone.

The more he hung out with heroes, the higher the chance of losing him.

She turned away from the phone, glaring at a tree, hoping Marcus hurried up. She wanted to have a bit of fun, and her best friend was the easiest way to accomplish it. She plucked a leaf from her crossbow tights, smirking. Hopefully he wouldn't be too angry for her outfit.

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.

Enigma sat on the edge of the lake, as close to the water as she dared, her mind a million miles away from her, still in the opera house where rehersal had closed only minutes ago. She had been there until she couldn’t stand it any longer, Erik turning his focus onto Christine and getting her ready for opening night and almost forgetting Enima in his obsession.

She drew her knees up to her chest, resting her face against them, trying to block the emotions raging through her. She wanted to scream, to torment The City in her pain...she wanted to cry.

Raising her head, she looked out at the lake again, shivering in spite of herself, her warning emotions making her sick. She should just give up on her stupid fantasies and move on, return to her life of murder and theft, of causing as much mayhem as she could until some hero came swooping out of the shadows to grab her.

She should walk away from the dreams of an idyllic life of going straight and falling in love. They were the stupid wishes of a stupid child.

Tears slowly fell down her cheeks as he hugged her legs tighter, falling against the blanket she had wrapped around her, staining the velvet. She gave into them and started to sob, memories of Christine and Erik so close together tormenting her as she buried her face in her knees again.

Rufio had come to a bit of a rut. The days were all starting to bleed together and leave him with little to nothing new or exciting to do, and he didn't see Megan or Red enough to fill in the hole the rest of the time fell into.

He'd taken to messing around on the streets, but found that as he looked older more people seemed to be intolerant of his presence. Maybe growing up meant you really couldn't be different looking. After trading foul words with an old man he'd been called a deli-something and told to "get a job", and that had made him think.

Megan had a job. Annie, the girl who'd given him Buzzer, had a job. Maybe Red had a job, he didn't know. But they didn't seem to be bad things, and they kept people busy.

So the rapidly-turning-not youth had set about the city on his skateboard, exploring and looking at what people did here. There was no end of really boring looking jobs, from working in stores to garbage men, guys who drove trucks and carried heavy things around all day.

There were the weird looking jobs he heard about, like the people who had super powers and weren't well liked by the City (though the Mayor seemed to like the one girl, Rufio hadn't missed noticing his arch enemy's picture in the paper). But Rufio didn't really think he should be in that, either. Not when he still couldn't fly or find Toot Toot.

There were doctors (boring) and repairmen (it was more fun to break stuff than fix it) and one guy who would stand by the fountain all day and fish out the garbage and leaves that fell in it. There were the guys who pushed hot dog and ice cream carts around, but Rufio would rather eat those things than sell them.

After a while, licking an ice cream cone and walking down the street, Rufio thought the only job that seemed like fun was already taken by the girl who walked other people's dogs around. They'd been great fun, but then he found out he'd have to pick up thier poop and the position lost most of its appeal.

Frustrated the spikey haired youth considered giving up when he heard sirens. He blinked, ready to run, but the cop car passed by him swiftly, heading to a small restaurant. Rufio dropped his cone and scrambled up onto a dumpster, jumping up onto a fire escape just to be sure they wouldn't come after him anyway, then crouched down to watch the officers as they ran in. The uniformed cops soon emerged, each holding two different men who were beaten up and trying to lunge at each other. Rufio let out a low whistle as the police threw them against the car and cuffed them, and a crowd filtered out of the restaurant to watch.

Then it struck Rufio. Maybe he could be a cop. He liked to fight, after all, and driving around looked like fun. Sure, most of the cops here were stupid and useless, but Rufio could be the first good one, maybe. It would definitely be fun to beat up bad guys all day.

He wondered how somebody became a cop, and pondered the matter as he continued to watch the two officers and their suspects.

She probably should have expected to be fired when she made an entire coffee shop full of people hallucinate and took off with no notice. It still stung, though.

Megan let herself have one day of full-time moping, where she didn't even change out of her PJs and bathrobe and ate cereal and ice cream and watched movies. It didn't really make her feel better, and the sugary cereal and ice cream made her feel sick at the end of the day, so one day was really all that was needed.

What she really needed, she decided, was to actually cheer up. With friends. A friend. She hadn't seen Rufio in a while, since she'd been busy with work, but--well, it wasn't like that was a worry right now, was it? Fanged sniffy guys, on the other hand, were. She doused herself with Febreze just in case and teleported from her living room to Rufio's fort.

"Hello?" she called the second she was fully there. Outside, because she didn't want to just 'port directly into somebody's house with no notice. She knocked on the door. "Rufio? Are you home?"

Rufio crouched on a fire escape over looking one of the busier streets of the City. He'd found it a bit disconcerting when the buildings stopped moving and everybody started setting up routine methods of travel, but everybody else seemed pleased by the change. Still, it felt far too permanent the way it was now. Rufio didn't like it.

The growing boy dangled his legs over the side of the fire escape, leaning through the bars and watching the dull crowds at the end of the work day. Sunset would come very soon, and then he may be more inclined to get up and find something to do, but for now he was content eating a bag of potatoe chips and ocassionally dropping a water balloon on a passerby from the small box sitting next to him. That was always good for a laugh.

After her visit with the mayor--okay, if she was being perfectly honest with herself it was more like after being caught spying on the mayor--Megan had things to do and questions to ask. She'd need to find these J-whatsit people Mayor Heart had mentioned if they had powers because she needed to find out more about what things were like here for others like her outside of the six-block radius she'd been mostly sticking to for home and work.

Also, and top on her list, she needed to find Rufio again. She'd almost accidentally ratted him out. Stupid big-mouthed Megan. She flushed almost as pink as her hair at the thought of it as she flew along, high up in the air. But she might have got some information, provided it could be trusted, and if she could just talk to Rufio she might be able to piece together a better picture and maybe figure out what to do.

God, she hated being the one in charge of figuring plans out. She wished any of her teammates from back home were here to think things over and just tell her what to do. Ugh.

Megan kept an eye out for what she'd remembered about Rufio's fort-building-house-thingy: that it had a hole in the roof and a painting of a tree. It took the better part of the rest of her afternoon, but she found it, tree and all.

He'd said something about the hole in the roof and traps, hadn't he? She couldn't remember if it had been go in or don't go in, and decided to play it safe. She landed on the roof with a thump--flying all afternoon almost nonstop was tiring--and peered in to yell. "Rufio? It's Megan. Are you home?"

It had been a quiet night. Rufio was up in the rafters, staring through a small hole in the ceiling at the stars. He couldn't fly anymore, the pixie dust had worn off, but he wasn't so upset about it. There were fun enough things on the ground. All he was really worried about would be if he saw Megan flying up somewhere and he wouldn't be able to catch up to her.

It was late, far too late for anybody regular and boring to be around when he heard something happening in the back, in the cold room with the carts and moving boxes. He'd painted over some the 'LO' and 'G' letters and dubbed that region of the warehouse "ADIN BAY", but in truth he never really went back there. Just set a few of traps; nets and paint bombs and a few nasty spring traps that were so well hidden Rufio sometimes forgot where they were, and didn't like to go back there without being able to float.

There were big metal doors separating that from his painted, festive piece of Neverland, but right inside the doors of his home the traps were dense it was impossible to make it through without setting off something, by land or by air, and each one was meant to disorient the victim. Once you fell in one even if you managed to free yourself you'd most likely walk straight into another.

( And now there were sounds back there... loud sounds. Harsh sounds. Metal on metal and the big doors were shaking. )

Charlie had been right. All Annie had needed to do was look and there were things there. First a set of keys, and then the phone. Though, the phone had been where the set of keys had taken her. Or, more where the streets had taken her after she'd discovered the keys. Which had been an odd experience in and of itself.

Her keys opened a store called Fixit, which happened to have a small apartment above it. A place to live. A shop of her own. A shop of her own? Annie didn't know if she was ready for that kind of responsibility, but she supposed that she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. It was hers.

The best part, though, was that the place was filled with things that made her happy. Machine parts, computers, computer parts. Everything that Annie loved was sitting right there in the store. And everything that could greeted her as she walked in. That made her smile a lot. She felt like she fit right in immediately. She felt at home.

And then the phone, that had been sitting on a table in the apartment. The thing was pretty amazing. It was a tiny computer that fit into the palm of her hand. It was advanced even for what she was used to. The thing was everything one would need in a computer, but small enough to fit into a pocket. She loved it.

She was busy playing with it while standing at the counter in the shop, her shop, when the bell above the door rang. Annie couldn't quite tear herself away from the thing, she glanced up and saw red and black hair but that was about it.

The last thing Jo remembered was resting her head on her mom's shoulder. She had been exhausted and she knew she had fought the good fight. She was just going to close her eyes for a few minutes, and open them again when the hounds came. She wasn't going to let her mom face the hounds alone.

When she did open her eyes, however, she wasn't in a hardware store. In fact, the first thing she noticed was that she could feel her legs again. Then there was the smell. Wood paneling mixed with stale cigarette smoke and whiskey. Home.

Her eyes darted around the room as her surroundings started to sink in. She was lying on a floor. A bar floor, to be exact. She turned her head ever so slightly, instantly recognizing the counter at the Roadhouse.

The Roadhouse? Jo frowned. The Roadhouse had been destroyed almost three years ago. It couldn't be.

She sat up slowly, her head spinning ever so slightly but otherwise feeling a whole lot better than she had just an hour ago. Her hands went to her neck, feeling not a gaping wound but the slightest outline of a scar. She lifted the bottom of her shirt and looked down at her side. More scars. Just barely ridged and faded as though she'd had years to heal. Or as though her injuries hadn't been that bad to begin with.

Her eyes closed again as she tried not to think about the memory of the hound's teeth tearing into her. Of the numbness that started to spread, dulling out the intense pain. The feeling of the life slowly draining out of her.

"The other side?" she wondered out loud, her throat dry and cracking on the words.

If it was, well, she wouldn't have expected to end up at the Roadhouse. As much as it had been her home, she'd also fought tooth and nail to get out of it. Then again, with everything she'd learned about angels over the last two years, she wouldn't put it past Heaven to not quite be all it was cracked up to be.

Rufio left the hospital still a bit dizzy from giving his blood to the doctor, but otherwise wide awake after eatting that yellow cake thing Hank had given him. It had been pretty good, and did help somewhat with the dizziness.

The young man decided to go get more, so dropping his skateboard to the floor he hopped on it and took off down the street, winding up at a small convenience mart where they sold sodas and snacks. Heading in he ignored the owner who gave him a withering look for bringing his sword in the shop, and instead went to search for the little cakes.

He found them fairly quickly and grabbed a few, paying quickly and then heading out front to sit on the curb and enjoy his treat, his board resting next to him as he tried to work out how to open the plastic wrapper without hurting his hand too much. Even grabbing the whole thing was making the cut on his palm pull and start to bleed a little bit again.

He looked at the bandage and the red straining the center of his palm, but then shrugged and let it go, picking up his sword and carefully using the tip to slice through the plastic wrapper. Overkill? Yes. Oddly satisfying to watch the sword nearly cut through the entire package in under a second? Definitely.

Rufio had finally finished compiling a new outfit for himself, and just in time. While tying up a new trapeze to get across the warehouse faster in case of emergency he'd ripped his pants up the sides. All of his clothes had started to get tighter, and seeing as he'd built them to be tight in the first place, it wasn't comfortable to be wearing them anymore. Of course, he hadn't ever planned on growing anymore, so he hadn't needed to worry about seeing his ankles under his pant hem, but if he had to get bigger he'd still make sure he looked good.

It was night when he finished and pulled on his new clothes in the warehouse's bathroom. A pair of tighter blue jeans with a heavy studded belt he'd stolen from a store, a new, bigger leather jacket which he'd attached spiked studs to the shoulderpads. He'd also found some new shirts at a small shop that had a bunch of them in large bins, but the little old lady who was running the store had been nice, so he'd given her money for the shirts instead of stealing them like he did his pants. He liked the shirts, he'd picked out ones with cartoons and characters on them, and one that the woman told him read "RAWR". He wore that one now, and that and some new black combat boots and a spiked metal collar made him feel a bit better, and fingerless leather gloves and an arm band completed the look. He was certainly more comfortable, and when he looked at himself in the mirror of the warehouse bathroom he thought he cut a rather impressive image. He taller, anyway. And willing to let some of the hair on his chin continue to grow in. It really wasn't growing on the sides of his face, which was fine by him.

He touched his hair, wondering if he shouldn't change it too. He'd let go of most of his homemade jewelry, after all, and the red and black stuck out in this city and been laughed at. Rufio shook his head, it was still too cool to change. Attaching his sword's sheath to his belt he grabbed his skateboard and headed out into the City, not bothered that it was late into sunset and getting dark quickly. Dark was fun.

( Skating through the streets he turned to go find the hospital. )

It was late. Too late to be out without the ability to fly or the will to fight, but Rufio couldn't bring himself to spend one more moment in the fortress by himself. His investment in a stolen pocket mirror had only made him more anxious. Despite ripping out the hairs that the ferocious Zoe woman had pointed out to him more had appeared, and he was starting to notice them on his chest, too.

And it wasn't just the hair. Rufio felt different, had moments where it seemed like change was taking place in his very core, and no matter how much he focused on making it go away it only seemed to make the matter worse.

( The young man sat on the front step of his fort, sniffling softly as he resisted the urge to go kill something, and the urge to cry outright. )

Logan was enjoying a day off from schoolwork and Caritas. Sure, he had a huge paper due on Tuesday, but it had been a long time since he'd had a good day of slacking off. He also still hadn't rebuilt his video game collection.

As such, he was currently walking the streets of the City in search of a Game Stop. He actually had money coming in again thanks to his job at Caritas, which meant that he was going to track down an X-Box 360 and some of the games he'd owned back in Neptune. And he wasn't going home without them.

He muttered to himself slightly as he passed the fourth Bed, Bath and Beyond and still there was no sign of a Game Stop.

"More pillowcases and sheets than anyone could ever want and no videogames? This City needs to seriously reconsider its priorities.

( Rufio floated through the tall buildings, silently moving through the air and looking for any signs of trouble. )