The Universe's Mixer

They had flown.

Karen hadn't quite known what to expect when Lestat had said he hoped she wasn't afraid of heights, she couldn't even begin to think of anything that he could come up with doing that would include them. Not that she was worried about it anyway. Heights didn't bother her any more than anything else did. Whether that was because of the drugs and booze in her system, or because she'd long ago sold her soul to the devil, or just because she was naturally fearless, Karen couldn't have said.

They ended up on one of the highest buildings in the city. On the roof, looking down at all the small people who looked even smaller from up here. Karen liked it. She liked that there was no way for them to see her up here. She only wished she could see them better. So she could make fun of their clothing.

"Oh honey." She sighed. "You do know how to show a girl a good time. But I had no idea that vampires could do that."

Of course, she didn't really know anything about vampires at all. Not really. Just what movies said, and she had a feeling that they didn't know anything about real vampires.

It was time to get back to the monkey.

He'd helped a girl get herself back, he'd gone and seen River. And now it was time to get back to the one thing that hadn't left his thoughts since he'd gotten it. A certain little undead monkey that had been given to him by a certain pirate captain.

There were plans for the monkey.

Hannibal hadn't been anything close to nice since he'd been given it. He hadn't fed it. He hadn't given it a very big cage. He hadn't let it out of that cage. It didn't have any water. It didn't have anything to play with. And he'd turned the cage around so that the monkey couldn't even look at anything.

Yes, it was all childish and juvenile, and rather below him. But it was an undead monkey. What else was he supposed to do with it other than torture it at every turn? Torment it in every little way possible?

He walked into his office. It had been House's office once. Now it was his. He kept it locked at all times. Nobody wandered in and out of it as they'd done with House. The monkey was in there, waiting for him.

"Hello, little one. It's time for you and I to have a little time for ourselves."

George was missing. Deb had been here, and now she wasn't anymore. The strange girl at the shop where he'd gotten the knife was even gone. He couldn't find Selina, but at least her apartment was still around, so that told Dex that she was still somewhere.

Everybody he'd met since being here seemed to have vanished.

Oddly, it didn't sit well with Dexter. He wanted very much to have that nest. That surrounding of people who thought that he was normal. That thought that he was just a blood spatter analyst. He felt the need to blend in.

After everything that had happened with the knife, he'd learned just how important it was to him to appear like everybody else. He'd had his chance at being what his Dark Passenger wanted him to be, and while it had been fun, it wasn't ultimately what he wanted from life.

Sulking a little, he sat in the park.

The newspaper had said that the man, John Coffey had been found dead. That somebody had shot him. There was, of course, an idea in his head brewing. That this 'somebody' needed to be found. John Coffey should never have been killed. He was an innocent.

Dexter set the paper aside and looked at the children playing.

Jack looked up at the building.

Paint covered his hands, his face, his clothes. And the side of the building. Of course, it had taken him all night to do it. And as soon as the sun came up, they'd be looking for him. But it was going to be so worth it.

The idea had come at him when he'd remembered drawing a penis on the side of the vampire's face so many months ago. If that was funny, then this was going to be a serious laugh riot.

He backed up so that he could see his work better.

There was a big yellow penis painted on the side of WayneTech now.

It was really just going to be glorious. It was.

How had he agreed to this?

How had this seemed like it would ever be a good idea? Somebody after a meeting had told him they had a perfect match for him, and he'd said -rather offhandedly- Yeah, sure, set it up, and then he'd completely forgotten about it. He'd put it out of his mind.

Then, two weeks later, he'd gotten a phone call which he'd promptly forgotten about. But then this morning, his secretary had reminded him of the date. That he was to meet the young lady out front of some Italian place. That he needed to wear a blue tie and bring exactly three orange poppies so that he would be easily spotable.

This was rediculous.

The only reason that he was here now was because he didn't want the poor young lady, whomever she was, to feel badly. He didn't want her to think that it was something to do with her, rather than the fact that Bruce just didn't date.

He really needed to find a way to let her down easily. Whoever she was.

She'd spent hours carving each selection of wood uniformly, working each piece until they were smooth in her fingertips. Tiny sprite creatures circled her room in excited patterns, encouraging her with tiny voices. In reality they were sometimes more of a hindrance than a help, but if they ever wore on her patience Nimue did not show it.

"Nimue look!"

"Nimue see!"

Crouched over a dirt floor, painting uniform letters on each newly crafted wood tile in red, she still wore hoof-shaped platforms, attached only to the balls of her feet. Her calves had adjusted to the unusual footwear long ago and she'd ignored the small ache in her back. Combined with the small antlers she wore in her hair, the creature though human cosmetically in appearance, also looked very wild. When she finished and the paint had dried, Nimue cast the runes.

"Nimue look!"

"Nimue see!"

"Nimue alone?"

Each tile landed face down. Not one offered her insight as if to say you have no future. Nimue looked up excitedly, wildly about her underground hut. The shelves, as always, remained silent, as was her bed and her hearth and her straw rug. There were no answers and yet...

"Nimue go!"

"Nimue scared!"

"Nimue hiding?"

The seer froze in place, knowing that eventually she had to leave the safety of her home and discover what silenced the rune tiles. Yet she prolonged her only option until she heard the frightened sniffles of the sprites and noticed that they had stopped talking as well. If there was one thing Nimue knew about the sprites it was that they rarely stopped squeaking. She rose to her feet, and for their sake, felt a bit braver.

"Nimue go?"

"Nimue look?"

"Nimue find."

So she did.

Leaving the hut, the forest was utterly recognizable. The trees were all strangers and the seer did not feel welcome. Whatever magic had transported her to this new land did so without the smallest sign or warning. Feeling faint, she steadied herself against one of the strange trunks.

"Gods, what is this?"

She had only to walk a small way before this new place became even less familiar. She spied on a building from a safe distance behind the edge of the forest trees. The structure as imposing as a castle's keep, and yet there nothing built or in place to protect it. Nimue immediately noticed the absence of stone walls and guards. It looked to be made of wood like a peasant's hut but far too grand to be so. It appeared so box-like and unnatural that Nimue immediately mistrusted it. The neon sign in front lit without a hint of natural or magical assistance and she came to the conclusion that it should not be able to exist at all. That it did startled her.

She could not comprehend what the large metal slabs parked in front of it were.

She'd spent so long staring at The Bates Motel that the moment she noticed the skyline of The City behind it, she fell to her knees which were scraped upon impact, praying loudly to the trees which had no reason yet to care for her, begging between gasps and tears for protection.


( OOC )