The Universe's Mixer

There was no music playing inside Fixit. Megan was officially sad.

The shop hadn't disappeared when Annie had, which Megan chose to take as a sign that maybe her friend and boss would be coming back at some point. But for now, Annie's disappearance was just another in an ever-increasing list of people she was resigned to never getting to say goodbye to.

Eric Northman had been one of those the news had reported missing, though, so that wasn't so bad.

But for the moment, the mood in Fixit was one of dispirited mourning. Megan imagined that the various electric thingies in the shop missed Annie. She knew that if there was only one person capable of talking with her and understanding her, of seeing her as a person and not a thing, then she'd miss them, too.

So maybe the jump from having that thought to flying around talking to the various electrical thingies like they were pets or plants or very quiet people was a bit of a leap. But it made Megan feel a little better.

Oswin had become something of a fixture in Leto's apartment. With the exception of conversation the dalek shell never moved, staying motionless in the living room. Despite housing a supposedly human consciousness it lacked the need to move or even fidget. And in the dead of night, the dalek was an uneasy presence with only dim ambient light to outline its existence.

It was easy to wonder what Oswin did all day, and it was easy to forget that the classical music that frequently played in the apartment wasn't the radio being left idly on, but her own broadcast. It wasn't constant and it was hard to say if she realized she was even doing it.

To Oswin, there was plenty to do inside her imagined shuttle. She cooked. She cleaned. She decorated. She reinforced the door almost daily. There was ritual to keep her sane, or insane depending upon your perspective, and it was sometimes very time consuming. Every so often she would peer over at her view screen, particularly when Leto was in view. But given their circumstances they were less roommates and more long distance video pen pals.

She never followed him into his room or around the apartment. Oswin was just simply there. Some day, she realized, that wasn't going to be enough.

It was mid-afternoon and completing much of her daily ritual, Oswin started to prepare her kitchenette for another souffle attempt.

"EGG... STIR..."

That was strange to hear the cold, robotic voice of the dalek. Whenever possible Oswin preferred to broadcast her own human voice through the appliances in Leto's apartment.

“Sorry," she called out. "I must have pressed the wrong button.”

Power? The City wanted power? There were dozen others it could have claimed, but it took her husband? It took her Viking king. She was tempted to raze large parts of the places to show just how much she didn't care for this situation. She was tempted to see just how many of its children she could turn into frogs or snakes; perhaps they could go about eating each other. The crone was more than ready to shove the City back into a human body and see just how much power it might need. It didn't even have a God to protect it. Stupid City.

Baba Yaga didn't stay in the castle. She couldn't. She took to the cabin more often than not; it seemed just as sad as its mistress. She wanted to hide away, but the cabin knew just as well as she did that the crone couldn't stay locked away forever. So, soon it did the only thing it knew how; it dumped its mistress out and walked away, taking itself to some other place and leaving her there on Dracula's lawn in little more than a black shift.

She sat there and stared, realizing the sun still shone brightly and the people still did as they did - lived. This angered her again, pulling her from the sadness and loss. She needed to make someone else hurt.

Rising to her feet, Baba Yaga started to walk with one thing in mind. Causing someone else pain, confusion, and then some.