The Universe's Mixer

( A girl can never have too many friends )

Eric gripped the handle of the bag he'd packed, a tote filled with clothes and anything else that could travel which might be useful. He didn't need much, he had never demanded more than what was needed for survival and even then he'd always had exactly what he'd needed to get by. The challenge had been packing. The challenge had been knowing not what lay ahead for him.

Being here at home was distracting. His mood lately had been turbulent at best and he couldn't bear to bring Macklyn down any longer. It was nothing that either of them had done to the other, not like before. That wasn't why he was leaving and he hoped Macklyn would understand. Macklyn usually did. Eric needed space, time to think and distance from the distractions here at the house. Music was a distraction, he'd been avoiding the studio like the plague. It didn't feel right invading that serenity with turmoil and darkness, it wasn't fair to John (if the vampire had even been going, Eric hadn't been around enough to check). But he needed fresh air and new perspective. His mate had always been there when he had hit a low point, but now Eric wouldn't burden the man with this pain, these feelings.

Lee was gone. It hurt more now than it had before. When she'd passed, Eric had known why. He'd felt it and knew it had been inevitable and right for her to go. This time it was without explaination. He'd finally had the courage to tell her how he'd felt about her, finally been able to admit it to her and now she had vanished. It was a deep wound that refused to heal completely and it left him raw on the inside. It was that darkness coupled with the intense desire to obliterate Selina Kyle, the woman whom had put her hands on a lot of things Eric held dear to him. He would get over it in time, but being here surrounded by the things she had tried to claim was too much.

Leaving Saucer behind to be with Macklyn and gathering only the sword perched by the front door to take in addition to the bag, Eric left the small cottage with the lush yard with Bran perched upon a shoulder. He left no note, nothing to tell where he might be headed. He didn't know where he was going or where he would end up, but it couldn't be here. Eventually he would return, but it and to be when his mind was clearer and he could once more face his mate with himself in his entirety instead of being so inwardly divided. Macklyn deserved much more and at the point it was now, Eric was doing him a disservice.

The porch met him. The yard met him. The street beyond the gate was welcoming, and so the Dark Avenger faded into the beginning light of sunrise on a journey he knew that might not ever truly end.

The ceremony was small. Private. Perfect.

Wayne Manor was picturesque, just the venue anyone with purpose could ever dream of with its rolling, manicured landscape. It would have been ideal to host any party or function where many were expected to attend. And, at first, that had been the idea. But after mulling it over, and after some good advice, Selina decided against a public ceremony. What she did in her private time was hers alone to know, and Bruce was always in the spotlight for something. He deserved some measure of privacy as well.

So with Alfred as thier witness, Selina stated her vows, said her 'I do's' and bound herself fully to the only man that could ever satisfy her in all of the ways she needed.

They didn't need large crowds, they didn't need cameras or fancy things to declare their love to each other. The simplicity was what made it so wonderful. It was a refreshing start towards forever, or at least until one of them was gunned down in the street. Whichever came first. Each had a slew of enemies, here and back in Gotham, but both understood that in spite of anything against them they would always have each other. With that, Selina could finally say she was happy.

After the exchange and the bonding, the couple returned to their home for a quiet "stay-cation" style honeymoon. The house itself provided ample things to keep them occupied, and because of the inability to truly travel to a destination they made the best of what they had, which simply was each other.

"Whaddya talkin' about, ya chump?" Harley snapped, hands on her hips as she leaned forward and glared at a man whom easily dwarfed her and outweighed her by two hundred pounds or more at least. "Well?" She demanded.

The large, thick man shifted uneasily from one foot to the other in a way that might suggest either distress or needing to use the facilities quickly. "I, uh...couldn't get ya anything, boss..."

Harley rolled her eyes. "Ya useless. I should feed ya to tha dogs for bein' so dumb. But I'm feelin' generous today. Guess ya in luck. Get back out there and don't come back until ya have something useful for me," Harley said, voice soft and soothing. The large man nodded quickly, before turning. He scurried away from the petite blonde in fear of his life.

"Useless....why is it so hard ta get good help around here? A girl don't want much..." She breathed to herself, folding her arms across her chest as she watched the larger man fade out of sight.

Finally she turned and picked up the baseball bat she'd been using before the interruption. The night was still young and Harley was bored. Taking over the city seemed like a very large task but with an arsenal of lunatics at her disposal, at least it was fun to watch the drama.

She swung the bat and shattered a large display window. The sound of the glass breaking brought the smile back to her painted face. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction and she felt complete amidst the chaos. The siren of the closed shop blared at the night and a few people on the streets began running away from the sound.

Turning away, Harley clutched her bat and skipped down the sidewalk, looking for something else to smash into pieces.

John was not sure how to approach Eric after their last encounter. He'd still been on the rush from the blood, and interacting with Venom hadn't softened him for a while after. Feeling slightly less rebellious, however, his thoughts had returned to his morose friend and he'd felt an inclination to find him again.

Approaching the studio, however, he found his steps getting heavier. He wasn't sure if Eric would want to speak to him. He'd known John was a vampire, of course, but knowing and seeing were different things, and John hadn't been paying attention to the non-prey to see what his exact reaction had been.

Still, there was only one way to find out. Setting his jaw he pushed past the glass doors of the studio, tilting his head slightly to get an idea of where his friend was. His steps carried him towards the recording studio out of habit.

The City Opera blazed with hot light on this night. The opening for Ignite had gone off without a single slip up. It was exactly what he'd wanted, and he'd worked hard to ensure that it was so. He made his appearances, brief though they were, at the masquerade beforehand, and at the gala afterwards. Through it all, he kept his distance from the lead soprano. The woman who pulled at him despite his knowledge that his heart had been reduced to ash in the destructive inferno of Christine's absence.

Yet, he wasn't fool enough to believe that all his heart was destroyed. The music was his blood and breath; it would come regardless of his heart. But the constant tugging he felt when he saw Magdelene gliding over marble floors or through the electric lights on stage... the way he found himself leaning forward in his box when her lips parted and her throat opened... There was something there, and he knew well enough by now to recognize it.

And there was the fact that she hadn't left. Even though there was the excuse of the girl at his manor, that firebrand Arya, Magdelene had very little to do with her now that she was mended. Arya stayed because he had promised to train her when he believed he killed his only friend. Now that Hannibal was returned to them the promise still remained - but it carried far less urgency than before. Not that he would betray his word; he never would. But it seemed that his services were no longer required. And the need for Magdelene's had long ago dissolved.

Yet, they both stayed - she and she. He was a solitary creature, and it was odd to him to find his home filled with life that was not his own alone. That, too, did something to the heart of him. He had not yet found a name for it. But he did not scorn it.

Now, he moved toward the long stretch of black and metal that would take him from his Opera House to his manor. His first thought had been to find Magdelene and bring her with him - but despite taking her on as his lead soprano,she was not his and he knew it very well. After the rush of his blood through the auditorium, he felt raw and worn and too full of wanting to trust himself alone with her. He descended the steps of the Opera House, then, alone - and his attention was focused only on the car idling at the bottom.

"It's time ta give this City somethin' ta smile about. Don't cha think?" Harley inquired with a giggle, casting her attention out at one of her burly guards. It wasn't like she had to protect herself from danger, there was no opposing threat here. But it always did a girl good to have some kind of a brawler at her side. She liked to be prepared.

"Whatever you say, boss," came the grunt of a reply.

Harley's painted lips only grew in excitement, offering the man a Cheshire Cat sort of grin. "I like tha sound'a that. Boss....yeah, I could get used ta that!" She laughed, throwing her head back as she did so, squeezing her eyes shut. It was her turn to step up and take over. There was no one here to stop her. She had plenty of armed men at her disposal, floors and rooms full of guys crazy enough to do her bidding.

And she felt like her Puddin' would be proud of her.

Tilting her head back down, breathing rapid from the laughing, Harleen wiped at her streaming eyes with her fingertips, smudging the paint. "Then whaddya waitin' for, ya lunk? Let's get this place laughin'. I'm talkin' a real good time. Whaddya say? Send tha troops out. Give each of 'em a gun and none of them can come back without some good story ta tell. It'll be beautiful when it's all done..." She said with a satisfied sigh, offering her office a dreamy look. Bordem was not a girls best friend.

The burly, armed guard nodded and with a duck of his head he trudged out of the office to spread the word.

It was time to take over the City, person by person, and Harley wouldn't stop until all of her men were gone. Good thing she had unlimited resources at her disposal. Things could've gotten really sticky if not.

Ariel had been studying relentlessly.

There was so much to the ritual and ceremony she was still unfamiliar with and it seemed that, in all of the studying she had done thus far, there was a basic structure to be ceremony. She wanted to please James, she wanted him to be proud of her. Little did she know that perhaps his knowledge of marriage ceremonies was not much greater than her own. All she considered was that humanity had a way of doing things and she didn't want to get any part of it incorrect.

It had to be perfect, this wedding.

Day after day the mermaid poured herself over the knowledge. Over the details. Over the process and every small thing she could absorb.

Magazines had been gone through. Books and archives. Anything Ariel could get her hands on she read and memorized.

She had a running list of things to remember. After a while her head had begun to ache with the knowledge. It was more than she had ever dreamed but she strived for perfection.

Rubbing her fingers over her eyes, Ariel sighed. The lines of text were becoming blurry. The letters were beginning to run together but she continued to make herself read onward. She couldn't afford to miss a single detail.

Everything had to be perfect. James deserved no less than that.

John inhaled deeply, letting the crisp night air bathe his senses more completely. It still felt a bit strange to breathe intentionally and irregularly, but he was starting to forget what it was like to breathe constantly.

Tonight he was avoiding most everybody he knew. He hadn't spoken to anybody since Eric found him in the alley and then left him to clean up the bodies. The blood had given him power and energy, but no better an outlet for the unhappy thoughts than he'd had before. He was now simply working to avoid the rest of his blooded family, sure that any of them would be able to tell about his large recent meal and probably would disapprove. He'd only fed on the synthetic drink since, but the live blood had left a soft burn in his stomach, and he was still looking for an outlet to spend it on.

The young vampire walked through the park's trees, just off a path that was just off the main road, senses keen and muscles tensed under a the facade of a leisurely stroll. He was just hidden enough here to walk watch the street without being seen too easily. It was a comfortable place to be.

Find her. Make sure she's alright.

Bran caught a wave of air and soared across the expanse of buildings. The destination was a familiar one to him, the sill of an apartment window. It knew already what it would find, the energy was somehow different today than it had been the day previous. Something felt...not wrong per say, but not exactly right either. Different. Empty.

The sill greeted the too large corvid and Bran settled with the flap of his wings. Twitching, the crow peered through the window seeing no signs of life. The darkness was a friend, a companion, but this darkness was void of its usual presence. It could feel Peter's energy, and while it could feel Lee's as well it was fading away like a scent on the breeze.

Strange.

Ruffling it's feathers, Bran pushed from the sill and took in to the air again. It soared through the buildings, searching each wall one after the other. It was following that fading energy, which was even more vacant out in the night.

She is no longer present here. Bran said.

I felt it too... the hybrid replied.

Eric had felt nothing like he had before when she had gone, no death and no finality. He was glad for that. But losing her again was as hard as it had been the first time. He would miss her dearly. Very dearly.

Come back, said the hybrid.

Without a response, Bran turned its wings, circled a building and headed back to their little house to rest.

It was often Beauty's habit to sit on her porch among the fading scent of jasmine and watch the sunrise. This morning was no exception. As the early morning silver faded into shades of blue and violet and orange and pink, a brighter delight slid over her. The stable was back again.

The Here-and-Gone Stable, which is what she'd named it some years ago, sometimes appeared on the hill just across from her cottage. When it did, there were beautiful horses whickering and nickering for someone to come and take them out of their pens. She didn't hesitate when the sunrise lit the rooftops of that stable, but launched herself off the porch and dropped into a sprint. Not much later, she'd picked out a lovely white mare.

Usually she'd take her horse through the park, but this morning, there was a path into the woods. On a lark, she nudged her beast toward the twining trees and stretching vines, and onto the dirt path that slid into the morning shadows.

A few minutes later, it seemed like a mistake. The path had all but vanished, and she was about to turn around and head back -- until the strange crashing sounds came to her. Her mount high stepped and shimmied, and Beauty almost immediately slid off, her palms coming up to sooth the upset horse with soft touches and softer coos. When her horse had settled, she tied the reins to a low-hanging branch, then turned toward the sounds.

From the edges of the clearing, she watched a very familiar figure systematically destroy a huge log cabin. She knew this man. Logan. He had a strange sort of pull on her. When he finally stilled, she waited, then took the few steps she needed to get herself within arms reach.

"Hello," she said gently, her face creased with worry that was clear to see, even in this early morning light.

Something was wrong. He knew it before consciousness had settled in on him. A feeling of loss, of emptiness. It ached, the void, and he found himself reaching for Leeloo, reaching out for the comfort of her, the softness of her.

His hand found cold, empty blankets.

Peter sat up, blinking. He reached out with his mind, expecting to find her not far, maybe up to eat something, but she wasn't there.

She wasn't there.

A cry rose in his throat, and his arm reached out again, desperate. He could feel Evey there, in the back of his mind, he could touch on a half dozen others, and knowing that his powers hadn't suddenly vanished, that it was his heart and love and life that was gone...

Logic tried to intervene. She was the Fifth Element, the Supreme Being. She was needed, necessary to the world - many worlds - being this one.

But his heart was breaking, shoulders heaving with sobs.

How much time has passed before he was able to regain control of himself, to close off his mind and retreat into himself, he didn't know. It didn't seem to matter anymore.

The sheets were far too cold this morning.

Logan inhaled a long, drawn out snap of air and released it just as heavily. Her scents filled him completely and warned his skin more than his blood ever could. Giselle. There was something about her, about that untouched innocence that Logan adored. He didn't let himself fall for anyone so easily, it had taken him a good while to come around to committing to Giselle. How she had managed to tether him to her, he wasn't sure. And he definitely didn't mind. Everything about her was pure gold, her smile was the best part and her laugh came second - a music all on its own with an enchanting sound that captivated his interest instantly. He only ever wanted to keep her happy, to make her promises he could keep.

The idea that she could vanish never crossed his mind. Logan was fully aware that Giselle missed her home, that people came and went here, and that somehow they all managed to cope with the ever unstable terrain. But, selfishly, Logan never guessed it could happen to him.

A shift and Logan's palm glanced the wrinkled sheets of his bed. He buried his face in to his pillow, flexing his fingers against the cloth that was void of body heat.

Curious, the man opened his eyes and tilted his head so he could glance over at her side. Instantly, upon not finding her there where she usually was at this hour, Logan's heart began to race. His ears listened for any small sound of motion, any light footsteps, any humming...any heartbeats...the cabin was void of human sounds. He could hear the structure's natural sounds, the soft groans and creaks, but no familiar human noises.

That struck him as odd.

Frowning, Logan slid out of the bed, pulled on decent clothes that he'd cast off the evening before when everything had been right, and headed for the kitchen. There was no coffee brewing. No breakfast being made. Odd. It was odd.

With a grunt, Logan sniffed the air and found her scent there. It was faded, like scents normally can be, but he could still pick up on it. Eagerly, Logan tracked it outside, following the steadily fading aroma of his heart. In town, he found no trace of her. It was far too early in the morning for any of the shops to be open for business, and anything that was open smelled wrong.

He searched the City, tracking the scent back to the cabin.

Just as he had left it, no lights were on. No smoke cascading from the chimney he'd constructed with his own hands. Nothing.

His shoulders slumped. And then out came the claws. In a flash of fury and rage, teeth and roars of heartbreak and pain, Logan tore the cabin apart bit by bit, nail by nail. He destroyed it, the Berserker taking over easily. When the cabin was entirely demolished, the surrounding trees sitting in various stages of chips, leaving naught but the foundation did Logan stop. He closed his eyes, retracted his claws and sank to his knees amidst the splinters.

Today was not going to be a very good day.

A scream rang out in to the darkness.

Whimpering gave way to muffled pleas.

Laughter followed a split second later and caught the immediate attention of the too large, black corvid. A caw, and the bird settled on the lip of the rooftop to peer down at the scene below.

The alley was coated with fear. It stuck to the brick like glue, washed the pavement like an acid rain. Co-mingled in that the bird could feel the heightened stress coupled with jubilation. A girl was there, and around her lay a scatter of men dressed in dark clothes in various stages of injury. One of the men was crumpled, having been hit hard by something much more powerful than him. A couple of other men were moving to get up from the dark pavement of the alley, their own injuries not as serious as the one laying on the ground.

And there in the shadow was the one whom had thwarted the group from the girl. A familiar shadow. Bran could feel the essence of the power lingering in the air, it was palpable and the corvid almost could taste it.

Another caw and its wings settled. The hybrid was close, always close. The situation needed judgement before it would send the Dark Avenger in to handle what lurked in the dark. John was capable of handling himself.

The girl was shaking. Her heartbeat was drumming, echoing in the alleyway unbeknownst to her. Bran could hear it. Eric could hear it too. She was afraid. What was happening in the alley to the men, she was frightened of the pale man towering before her to protect her. Something about the situation, though, told her she wasn't out of the realm of danger.

"Please..." The girl begged to anyone that might listen. "Please..." She begged again. Beneath her breath she was praying, mumbling a stuttered version of the Lord's Prayer in hopes someone might hear it above her.

Bran cawed in response as if to silence her with the night.

It waited to see what would happen next.

John was humming one of his and Eric's tunes as he moved through the back alleys of the City. Tonight he was working on his stealth, moving through the City as fast as he could, pushing himself in endurance and perception. He was strong, he'd always been strong. Since he'd been a delinquent, and later a soldier, he'd been In excellent physical condition, but he'd always wanted to be faster. So tonight, he pushed himself.

The City was always changing, that meant it was great training ground. He worked on perceiving things even as he pushed himself harder, faster, till his muscles ached.

And then he noticed the webs. Skidding to a halt, and feeling the particularly off feeling of not needing to catch his breath, he turned and looked up, seeing a slight mass of dark, odd substance. He blinked, despite the dark of the alley able to see it clearly, though he didn't understand what he saw.

Caught up in reaching out slowly to investigate, the young vampire barely registered the other presence coming up to him.

The city was bright below as Iron Man soared through the late night sky, once more surveying the way the City had shifted and reorganized itself. He was starting to feel like this was an unsolvable problem, at least until new developments arose, and the thought irritated and frustrated him greatly.

This might have been why, when he snagged a random mugging, he grabbed the criminal a little rougher than usual, and when he dropped the man in front of the police station and an officer on his smoke break it was from a little higher than usual. He didn't stop to tell the officer what had happened, simply using a close range hack to text the man'so phone with his details, and didn't bother to watch the man with a newly sprained ankle be taken in.

The brightly colored suit turned and blazed back into the sky, and finally Tony touched down on a rooftop with a good overlook and rested.

"Anything, J?" He grunted.

"Sorry, sir. The sensors are picking up no new data," Jarvis said in his helmet.

"Great."

Eric had not revealed everything about his plans for the night that they'd reconnected, but Macklyn didn't need to know all the details. He knew enough. He knew the emotion behind it, and he knew that it hadn't just been an idle thought. Eric had given away their cat.

He wasn't angry. Not just because they'd already worked past it, but because it actually showed a lot of love for Eric to do what he'd done. He'd made sure that the kitten had a safe place to be, with somebody that would love it a lot. He was sad, though. Because he hadn't meant for that kind of finality to come about.

Macklyn wanted the cat back, though. They were together again, and they were in their home again. It needed every part of them in order to be a family. So he'd made it a goal to track down Selina and retrieve the feline from her.

She wasn't difficult to find. Browsing the shifting shopping area, peeking through windows. The fairy could only imagine the thoughts going through her head.

The task was finally complete.

The brick and mortar laid. The structure tall and strong. The inside regal and suitable for its occupant. It had been a chore long awaiting completion and now that time had finally come. Logan could look at the structure and be proud of what he had built. He could only hope that Maleficent liked it just as much as he did. He had built it to her exact specifications, down to the last bauble of decoration.

At present, Logan was fitting the last panel of curtain in the living area, a vast expanse of luxury and wealth. Though it exuded regality, there was something about the home that never lost its charm. It was a fortress, a protective lair, but a home just the same. It wasn't without its secrets, Logan had built the place with divots and perches, places for the Queen and her bird to conceal themselves if anyone found themself brave enough to take on the home and invade it.

He doubted that would ever happen, someone would have to be out of their mind to approach Maleficent with haste and the intent to do harm. She could fend for herself, he had seen some of her magic work. And there was always the ring, that circle of a connection they shared between them in the event something did happen that she couldn't control.

Logan slid down the ladder, folded it up and carried it down through the hallway to the foyer. Crossing the threshold, the mutant crossed out in to the sunlight and carried the ladder back to the truck. He secured it with tie downs and then turned to behold the small structure that the Queen had taken as residence while he finished her home. It was time to tell her.

Without a glance at the truck, Logan moved for the smaller abode. Once at the door he paused and knocked gently, knowing he could knock the thing over if he wanted to without much effort. "Maleficent? You home?" He called softly. He didn't need to shout, that wasn't necessary. But he didn't know if she was home or not either.

He would just have to wait and see.

Brick by brick the structure was quickly becoming less of a skeleton and more of a home. There were plans, blueprints to follow and a strict timeline to adhere to. Logan maintained a level of loyalty with his crew, the best in The City, and still managed to keep his promise to Giselle. He was home every evening for supper and though he left before the sun rose, he knew she would understand. They had come to terms with where they stood, and once this project was in its final stages he could focus more of his time on her. Which, ultimately, was what he wanted deep down inside.

It had been a few weeks since the project had begun, and being the powerful creature that he was, Logan was able to do much more work than anyone else. That helped speed things along quite nicely.

The outer structure has sprung up almost overnight, the foundation cared for with consideration of the land. It would be sturdy and hold for ages as long as it was well tended to. Any cracks in the Earth met with water, and keeping the foundation itself just moist enough to prevent shifting. But it was becoming complete. Beginning to look like itself.

After the foundation and skeleton, Logan had fashioned the bricks and mortar, minding the doors and windows. The inner structure was completed as the outside was, and slowly but surely (or quicker in his case) it began to take shape. Logan had a feeling that in the completion of the home entirely, his friend would be satisfied with it. She would know the care, the diligence and the effort it took to create such a thing in the first place.

Without her approval, Logan did take the executive measure to add a few places for her bird friend to stoop should he choose to. Most houses weren't built to accommodate avian companions, thus Logan took it upon himself to ensure happiness for both the mistress and for her friend. Along with plenty of roosting spaces, most with enough privacy for a bird tha could still give it view of its mistress, Logan added in a small aviary. He would eventually fill it with trees and wildflowers to mimic the land it was being built on. That would come later.

By staying on task, Logan expected to have the abode completed the week before Christmas. That included painting the inside, the decor, and any fine tuning that might be needed at the time. Otherwise, he was set on that deadline. Nothing would stop him from completing his task because of what lay ahead for him once he was finished. That was all he could ever want.

Now that her home was in something of a respectable state--real food growing in the garden, a goat of her own--Siggy could focus on other things. She had no use for the clothing of this odd, decadent city. With some surprise, she had found that new clothing of her own preference appeared in her room: rich wool and linen, of the type that she had worn as an Earl's wife. She began to feel herself again. And thus, she would look her old self again when next she met Thor.

She wandered what passed for a marketplace in the City. She would need jewelry and cosmetics. She had once worn gold taken in raids, or crafted by the finest smiths in the holdings. Now she would be forced to purchase it for herself. Cosmetics, though--she could buy that with no compunction.

Siggy walked through with purpose, then hesitatingly, and was soon lost in the press of people.