The Universe's Mixer

"Nice picture? What picture?" Ted was talking to himself.

There were a lot of messages on his phone. A lot. Certainly more than usual. And all of them having to do with things that were not finance. It seemed to Ted that there were a lot of people looking for a date from him, and he didn't know why. Then the message from Charlie telling him that the picture of him was good and they should have dinner.

At least he knew that Charlie was still here. Out there. Somewhere.

"Do I owe somebody dinner?" He asked his phone, confused, as he pushed the button to go to the next message. He listened for a moment and then blinked. "I'm pretty sure that's illegal to do in the greater United States area..."

Where had all of these requests come from?

Ted put his phone down and looked at it, more than slightly confused. The City provided many things, he was coming to understand, but a dating service as well? That seemed to be more than a little bit too personal to him. Something that perhaps a man should decide for himself if he wanted to partake in.

He picked his coffee up from the table. He'd been spending more time in coffee shops lately, glad to be away from Arkham. Needing to be out of the house. But also trying to find Charlie. He figured if he stayed in one place for a prolonged period, eventually Charlie would wander by.

So far, the theory hadn't worked.

The phone jingled again, Ted picked it up and hit the button for voice mail. He listened for a moment before blushing and putting it back down. "Now that's just dirty."

There had been a lot to think about post-asylum. Not the least of which being the angel he'd released from the porno and set loose upon the City. He'd not heard of any terrible acts since that moment, but he still wondered. The angel had seemed to think that Jesse should be using his powers to do whatever the hell he wanted to do. Jesse did not share that sentiment. He really felt that responsibility was the right way to go with it.

Plus the whole idea of being the one who people came to with their problems, being the one they blamed for the situation they were in, just didn't fit into the things he was really gunning for.

He'd come to the park with an idea for peace. But the new gadget he'd been issued kept making noises at him. At first he'd tried to turn it off completely, when that didn't work, he tried to quiet it. Now he was just listening to the messages and grinning at himself.

Sounded like personal ad responses to him. Though he'd not put one in himself. Never quite saw the need to. Jesse could get himself laid pretty much any time he wanted to. But this? This was pretty funny. He had a feeling that the City itself was to blame for this. And that didn't surprise him one bit. The place seemed to try to be 'helpful' once in a while, stirring up massive trouble in the wake of the attempt. Sometimes, just sometimes, it could be downright hilarious. Which was what he thought of the current situation.

Eugenides discovered one other thing that morning: he didn't like coffee.

His face wrinkled as the bitter flavor swept over his tongue and he set it down on its small plate and pushed everything away from him, sending the tiny spoon clattering out of its place. Its warmth had been extremely welcome to his otherwise cold body but he never took it back.

In the meantime, he straightened his back and looked around. Only an hour ago, he discovered himself to be sleeping on the ground well away from the comforts of his bedroom and hadn't been at the peak of himself since. He was confused, he was cold, he was hungry and his body hurt where the ground met it. The diner (they called it one) had appeared to him seemingly out of the blue and before he knew it, he was stumbling inside, welcomed as the first customer of the day. It was coated in pale cream walls and the empty couches that filled the place were of the same shade, the tables basking in the natural brown of their wood which shined when the early sunlight hit it. Eugenides sat closest to the window parting the street from the interior and he found himself gazing at the brickwork and the cemented road for the sixth time in that hour. A wave of loneliness filled his chest like water in a hollowed space.

"Here you are," a female voice said.

He turned towards the bowl of cream chowder placed before him, bits and pieces of white meat and croutons peeking out the surface and he felt his stomach move at the scent of breakfast.

"It's not much but it's soup of the day!" she said brightly, tray pressed against her skirt. "Always the first thing we finish in the morning. Want some bread to go with it?"

Eugenides nodded to her, looking frail under the weight of his tattered brown cloak. "Yes," he said after.

"Right, I'll get you some," she said with a smile, a nod, and was off.

Eugenides returned his gaze to his background. It didn't take long for the waitress to return with half a bagel on a plate and she smiled to him sweetly again. "Well, eat up! Don't worry about paying, it's on the house."

I can pay, Eugenides had almost told her but decided to keep it to himself as he nodded to her and took up the spoon on the right side of the bowl by his left hand and began to stir his breakfast. Better to keep his money for as long as he can and act as he dressed. It would come as a surprise, after all, if she saw him revealing a healthy wad of bills from his mice-nibbled cloak pocket, both of which he stole from no less than two people in the same hour.

Eagerly, he slurped his breakfast and chewed the chicken meat. Warmth washed over his body and he didn't waste time on taking another sip. Finally, breakfast! Nothing can go wrong with breakfast...