The Universe's Mixer

Deacon wasn’t a foolish man. He didn’t let his guard down around people he didn’t know, and he never drank blood unless he was holding a limp body or owned the bloodbank it was from.

So how exactly he’d ended up lying on what appeared to be a bed, in a strange room, was a complete mystery. Leaning up on his elbows, he looked around the room. Clean, crisp white bedcovers over crimson sheets, minimalist monochromatic furniture, and his clothes laid out over a chair. Yeah, this definitely looked like a place he would live.

But he’d be damned if he could remember ever being here before in his life. The last thing he remembered...standing in that temple, stench of dust and dried blood in his nose, the feel of Blade’s blood dripping down his face...and then nothing.

Maybe it hadn’t worked. Maybe something had happened, and he’d found his way here. Wherever here was. Sitting up, he slid out of bed, pulling on the pants that lay ready. Shirt on, sleeves cuffed to just below his elbows, and shoes. Now he felt ready to face whatever was out there.

He could tell the apartment was empty, at least. And as he walked around, he knew he lived here. Could smell it. Hell, he could tell just from the way everything was decorated. This place wasn’t too bad. Bit of a stepdown from the penthouse, but that he could live with. There was a cellphone sitting on a desk in the living room, but the contact list was empty. He tried Mercury’s cell...nothing. Quinn...nothing.

Looked like he was on his own. Shrugging on a black leather jacket - his, he remembered the scuff mark on the sleeve, the faint scratch next to the collar where Mercury had caught the leather instead of skin when she'd tried to scratch him in a rage - he slipped the phone into the inside pocket. He patted the coat down, trying to work out if he had cigarettes...nope. Well, at least that gave him a reason to venture outside. It looked like the sun had just set, and while he didn't recognise the skyline, he knew going out into the streets was the only way he was going to find anything out.

Murders, chaos, the usual was going on. They were still no closer to finding the answers than they had been, although Charlie's gut kept coming back to the only cannibal he knew that lived in the City. He was beginning to worry about his partner, but he wasn't sure if he should butt in to her life. He cared about her, much like he had cared about Reese; he'd have to talk to her eventually about Simon Tam. Apparently the doctor was no longer working at the Hospital, and his apartment was now someone else's home. He'd wait for the right time, if there was really something like that when it came to the matters of the heart.

Lucy-Belle was out with Jake again, which he wasn't going to stop. At least one creature in the house seemed to be having a good time of it. It was nice to know what the fluff ball of a Persian thought of her home, and when Jake was around, she would often times be rather vocal. Who knew cats could be so demanding, or so exacting?

Ted was...probably around. Charlie would need to spend more time with his friend. They hadn't done anything in a while. Not much at all since they'd decided to get a cat.

To be nice, and perhaps in hopes of seeing that strange woman again, Charlie went out to gather some fruit to make Ted a nice salad. Now and then Charlie would look for a particular tree, a strawberry with chocolate sap tree. It was a fanciful idea, but Charlie was curious to see if it would happen. Though he'd supposed it'd be more of a bush or a vine of some sort rather than an actual tree. So, there he was, collecting fruit to make a salad for his housemate, now and then saying something to the fruit to see if it spoke back to him.

The field sprite most commonly known as Toot-Toot flitted through the City mostly unseen, in spite of his growing...talent. It had been six months--had it been six months? or had it been longer?--since the last time he had heard that familiar tugging at his magical senses that was Harry's summons. Six months of silence, while he fought to keep Chicago safe for his younger, smaller, weaker companions and followers. Three whole seasons of forging new alliances in order to feed his rapidly growing 'family.'

It wasn't just vanilla mortals, or small time magic-users that were disappearing. It was the lesser fae as well; being captured and forced into servitude as they once had, before the great 'Za Lord had deigned to care for them. Oh, the crazy wizard's friends did what they could, but they had their hands full looking after their fellow humans, and it just wasn't the same.

And then it happened. A whisper, a brushing at the back of his mind. A tingle between his shoulder blades. A wish. He had to follow. He'd slipped through the veil into the never-never in a twinkling, and somehow emerged in this place between what, when, where, and who. And why? Because Harry needed him. Harry wanted him.

But now that he was here, the wishing had stopped. Was he too late? No, no, no. This was the right place. Never mind that it changed, seemingly with the lightest of light breezes, such as the one that his dragonfly wings made as he beat his way above--and sometimes below--the streets. He just needed to learn its Ways.

He would gather information at a pub--that's what he would do! Mortals liked to congregate and gossip at the pubs. And they had pizza...