The Universe's Mixer

Baba sat in a quiet room, a bowl of water before her. She put her finger in it and started to make slow circles. It was an old trick really, scrying. There was always a chance someone could have wards up, or the City wouldn't allow for such. There was always a chance she could look into something or somewhere and be looked back at. Baba wasn't worried. ( She was waiting for something... )

Frustrated with the way that things were going, not able to understand these people that it had brought in and their apparent inability to relax and go with the flow of things, their unwillingness to conform like the people who were it's natural born citizens, The City had decided it needed to round them all up and put them in one place. A place where they couldn't get out, where they could be kept calm and docile, where it could study them closely.

It chose Arkham Asylum. There were enough rooms within to harbor every person in their very own cell. It had both maximum and minimum security wings, floors actually. The higher up a person found there room within the walls of the asylum, the more they needed to be watched, sedated. Held on to. The asylum was also on an island. With only one gate allowing access into the rest of the city. It could secure the building very well. Make sure nobody wandered in that didn't need to be there. That nobody got any bright ideas about anything.

They were taken while they slept. It moved them silently, instantly, from their beds, couches, chairs - or wherever they slept - into a room at the asylum. The nurses and doctors would appear, setting up IVs and deciding drug doses. Some patients were strapped down to their beds for their own safety - and for the safety of the staff - until they could be properly sedated. Some, those in the rooms on the higher floors, were put into straight jackets and weren't allowed to have human contact at all. The staff had to use special poles to stick these patients with their medicine. Those were the ones that the City worried about most of all. Those were the ones that it was having the hardest time learning about.

After a while, it let the calmer ones, the ones that responded to the drugs more, wander about. They were allowed to go to the commons room, they were allowed to eat their meals in the dining area, spend time in the inner courtyard. As long as they didn't start causing problems, they were allowed to roam. They could interact freely with the other patients. They had something of freedom, right up until it was time for lights out. Then everybody was ushered back to their rooms.

The others, all except those of the highest level, were taken out at special times. They were allowed to see the courtyard once a week. But not when anybody else was there. And only with a veritable army of staff members on hand to regain control should it be lost. Those of the highest level of security, those people stayed in their rooms all the time. The City could not risk them being let out.

So it watched them. It studied them. It tried to get to know them better. Learn what it was that they wanted. Tried to learn their personalities. Tried to learn why they wouldn't submit. It couldn't really tell if it was having much success or not. If it was learning anything new. It couldn't tell if any of this was going to help in the long run, or if it had just given them further fodder to be angry and discontent. To hate it.

Well, a few more weeks then. A few more weeks.

It happened overnight, as many things did within its walls. In the morning, the inhabitants were going to wake up to a very fun surprise. It felt that it had been a bit remiss lately in celebrating holidays, though most of the people here seemed to find their own way to celebrate the last few. But this one, this one it wanted to play with and make memorable.

The first one appeared with a low ~thwop~ sound as it seemed to fall out of thin air onto the chilly sidewalk. The small being stood, took off his tiny green bowler hat to dust it off and looked about. The City was pleased, very pleased, with the look of the little man. He was exactly what it had envisioned, unlike certain large beings of the same ilk. No, this was much better.

It was so much better that the City decided that its original estimate of how many it would need was far, far too low. The first creature was quickly joined by many of his bretheren in rapid succession, each appearing with the same low popping noise, like the muted sound of popcorn bursting out of its kernels. By the time the sound stopped, there were countless numbers of two-foot tall leprechauns standing about in a myriad of shades of green.

Oh yes. Yes, this was going to be a great deal of fun. And this time, instead of one magical creature, as had been the case with the Cupid last year, there were many. So everybody would be able to join in the fun. It was just an added bit of wonderful irony that the place where the newest inhabitants had appeared was mere steps away from where another leprechaun, a much larger leprechaun, lay as he slept off the large quantity of liquor he’d consumed.

Having started, the City was further inspired by its little visitors. They were not enough. There would have to be more, much more, to make its inhabitants get into the spirit of the holiday and to make its leprechauns feel at home. A new color. And some gold. And, oh, there were so many ideas.

This was going to be fun.

They'd gone their separate ways; actually, the sorceress had sent her latest student on his way. It was a simple "I'll see you soon," but it got her point across. Whether she actually saw him soon depended on how well her next meeting went. She went back to the shop and got cleaned up, "borrowing" a few more pieces from the seer's wardrobe. Eventually she was going to need a new place to live; she was growing bored with Xanadu's things. She wanted her own.

Perhaps, that had always been her problem; she wanted her own things, her own power, her own path, her own country...Or maybe she was just too arrogant. Overconfident. It didn't matter; she was about to try something she'd never attempted before; well, she'd certainly not tried it in some time with this particular sort of being. There was the living island, but she'd never gotten a chance to actually talk to it.

She made her way back to the same warehouse, or what she believed the same warehouse. A small tote hung from her shoulder; the bag was filled with the odds and ends of a conjuration spell. Baba was about to call on the City to have a nice conversation. She wanted to know what was going on. Her brow lifted as she walked into the warehouse; there was no sense of blood, magic, or even death. The place looked as if it hadn't been used in ages, but felt as if it had just been created. She didn't take the time to wonder if the City had made this place just for her, if it knew what she was about to do.

There was no table, but then, the sorceress didn't need a table. She pulled out the candles, setting them in certain places. Then she drew the circle, small symbols set between the candles. There was the usual incense, burnt bits of twigs, herbs, and paper. What was going to make this powerful? Why the blood and the eyes. The eyes were set carefully in the middle of the circle; Baba traced them with a circle of the Cupid's blood, the City's creation. Then she took a sip of the still sickeningly sweet liquid. She set the jar of blood into the circle and settled back to chant softly.

There weren't any true words to the chant, nothing intelligible. The sounds were just meant as a focus; her will needed to be focused. She called on the City, called on a physical representative. She called the City to join her, and she'd bind it to the spot. She could have used the heart, she could have used the brain, she could have used any organ she wanted, but the Cupid's eyes were really the only thing they hadn't destroyed while playing. So, the eyes lay there, staring blindly at her by jar of blood that had once given them life, made them work. She demanded it show itself. Now all she had to do was wait.

Who: Jennifer and The City
What: A phonecall finally made


Jennifer waited, patiently. Listening to the phone ring. Only half wondering where Charlie was. Maybe it was better that he wasn't in the office right now, anyway. She wanted to get this done and over with. She wanted to wash her hands of Smith Wall and go on with the real business of police work.

Finally, she heard the line pick up. It had run an unnatural number of times, in her opinion.


"Hello, Jennifer." The male voice came from the other end of the phone. Smith Wall, who was not actually corporeal right at the moment, was glad to finally hear from the agent.

"How did you.... nevermind." She didn't want to know. Not really. "I found him. That guy you wanted me to find."

"I'm so very glad to hear that, Jennifer. Please, don't go near him. I don't want him to harm you."

"He doesn't seem all that dangerous, actually." There was a bowl of fruit on her desk. She had to assume that Charlie had placed it there. It would be a fairly good assumption. Not that she minded, not really. She actually sort of liked the fact that Charlie liked fruit that much. It meant she ate a little healthier.

"Just tell me where he is, could you? Did you find anything else out about him?"

"No. He had no records. No family here. Did you really expect me to find much?"

"No. I did not. Where is he?"

"He lives in the Manchester. He's got one of the four top floor condos there."

"Very good, Jennifer. Thank you. My check to you will be in the mail shortly. You have done me proud."

"Can I ask.. who are yo...." The phone was dead in her hand. No dial tone. Just no sound at all. As if she hadn't been talking to anybody to begin with. For a long moment, Jennifer stared at the receiver and then put it back in the cradle.

Hopefully that was all done, then.

It had let the citizens take care of the mess, as usual, instead of just reversing it's poor decision. They had done fine, The City thought. They had taken care of it. Made sure that everybody was safe. Solidifying the idea that The City had chosen them well.

It looked at the dead flesh of the giant monster, mourning it only a little bit. Wishing that things had turned out better, but only momentarily.

The City repaired itself, cleaning up the flesh and the mess of the once great Godzilla, fixing the streets and the buildings that the monster destroyed or left it's mark on. Soon, it was as if none of it had ever happened. Only the memories of those involved would remain as proof.

As it walked away, The City thought to itself. Considering the zoo and the animals it had wanted to put into it.

Perhaps dinosaurs weren't such a great idea after all.

It had only recently become aware of the concept of monster movies. In this new body, this new form, it had taken to doing some more human things. One of them had to been to visit something called a video store, rent some videos and find some place to watch them. Since it was The City itself, it just made a house with everything it needed.

One of those videos happened to be Godzilla, featuring a giant angry lizard. It sat intrigued through the whole thing and bolted to it's feet at the end, fresh with a new idea.

There would be a zoo in The City. It would collect animals to put them on display. The City didn't currently have a zoo of it's own, which was sort of sad for the children. But they'd grown up here so they didn't really have a concept of what a zoo was. They would love this.

It would get Godzilla. The monster couldn't be that big, could it? After all, it had ransacked and Japan was a small place to begin with. Just an island. Sort of like The City, only ... different. Plus it had stayed mostly in Tokyo. One city.

After Godzilla, it would get some dinosaurs maybe. A unicorn. A phoenix. Dodo birds. Things that people would know but had never seen in their lives. It would be fantastic. Everybody would be filled with wonder. They would be pleased by what The City had given them.

Retrieving Godzilla as it had everybody else, The City suddenly realized that it had not only misjudged the creature's size, but also it's intelligence and determination. The cage that had been constructed turned out to be rather flimsy.

Just as one of the lesser writers for The City Voice was receiving information about the zoo for an article, Godzilla broke loose.

( OOC )

It had used this face to talk to Doctor Schreber. To communicate with him. To show him the power, not to mention the importance. Schreber had been the first. But not the last. The man had been so uncomfortable with the disembodied voice. With the mere presence. He had wanted something to look at.

And The City had discovered that people responded much better when they had a pair of eyes to gaze into. When there was a body there to respond to. It had seen how much easier it was to manipulate and use people when they were comfortable. Schreber had been more willing to do it's bidding with this face.

Aeon Flux had also taken a contract she probably wouldn't have otherwise when he'd shown up with this face.

That was what had caused the decision to keep the face around. To use it in the future to communicate with it's citizens. For those times when the wooden soldiers were a little too... abrupt... for the job.

It still hadn't mastered the techniques of human subtlety when it came to body language. Or blinking. But few people were in company long enough to notice such things. The City was fairly blunt and straight forward with what it wanted.

It was out today because Schreber was gone, and it needed somebody to continue that work. Unfortunately, the ones who could continue it in the same manner as Schreber had been here too long and had a bias. Or a hatred for The City itself. They wouldn't allow themselves to be used.

There was one though. New. Unsure. She wouldn't be able to do everything it needed her to do, but she could do some. It had decided to employ her shortly after bringing her in. Now it was time to put the works into action.

An appointment had been made, just like any good citizen would do. It was on time for that appointment, and sitting out in the lobby, waiting. The face as nondescript as it had been previously. The suit a not-too-expensive looking model. Only the shirt and tie were different now. Blue colors. It had decided it liked blue.

It left Dr Schreber, still wearing the body that it had created. Walking to where it wanted to go was an unusual thing, and The City reveled a little in the simplicity of it. Just walking. Just being one of the people wandering the streets. Pretending.

Of course, it wasn't about to just wander until it found who it was looking for. It shifted the streets to suit itself until he was face to face with the black haired woman who he sought. Making it's trip very short indeed.

"Miss Flux." It called out in a bland, ordinary tone. Knowing that it would get her attention no matter what. She had too much ability to leave a stranger who knew her name ignored.

The City stood, it's hands in it's suit pockets, looking as casual as it could manage considering it had never done such a thing before.

It was an insightful article by Ms. Hylie, presenting a brave face in an atmosphere of prevailing chaos. Ever since the shift they have been trying to impose a structure in this place, or go on with the show, only with half of the characters gone. They insist on keeping records - archives and police reports - so that memories may be passed on, touched, and locked in a filing cabinet safe from the ravages of mass-amnesia.

I set the City Voice down on my desk and look out the window. None of those people out there understand this place the way I do, especially the pawns. You almost grow to hate them at times, the ones who walk through life half-asleep, content to be a function of collective forgetfulness, accepting whatever bland reminiscences sputter along behind their dead eyes. I used to envy them when I worked for the Strangers. At least they have a sense of self, even if I gave it to them.

The people who were brought here, on the other hand, the ones with memories of other places, seem to burn like torches through a dim fog. I find myself clinging to their humanity - the small gestures of kindness, genuine expressions of emotion - smiling to myself as if I am gazing at the seeds of a bright future. Real memories glow behind their eyes, and the envy almost cripples me. I rub the heel of my hand against my sternum, encouraging my fluttering heart into a regular beat.

Is there such a thing as too much memory? If so, this place suffers from it. It accumulates and congeals into buildings and park benches, a geographical pastiche extracted from the minds of its inhabitants. It is democratic and anarchic at the same time. These days the buildings seem more solid and grandiose somehow, as people cling to their memories with more ferocity than ever. At least they appreciate what they have.

It occurs to me that I am like the City - an extractor and artisan of memories, but with none of my own. Every day we are re-set, reborn, reconstituted out of an unselfconscious void. I am the silent witness of a world trying to recall itself.

I decide to initiate contact.

"I know. you are listening. We need. to talk."

Buildings suddenly vanished, people followed closely behind. Everything was very suddenly gone from view. Darkness consumed everything and everybody.

Slowly, very slowly, the City started to rebuild itself.

Those who had just gone through the horrors of the massive chess game between the City and Death might have seen this as a fit thrown by the City due to it's massive loss to the reaper. Those who had no idea what was going on would just continue to be confused.

Buildings slowly reappeared on streets that were fresh and clean. People began to reinhabit them, the City born citizens appeared first, as if nothing had gone on at all. As if it was all just another day.

Holes remained in some places, the City taking time to heal itself. To repair. To fix. To reset.

Life would return to normal.

Eventually.