The Universe's Mixer

Christine wished she did not have to leave Erik behind but he had made it very clear what she was to do. Although her Angel did not have to provide her with this option she knew she would need it. She could not stay in her current robe forever so clothes were a necessity. Which meant Christine agreed to allow Erik's car and service to go purchase clothing. She was very unsure when it came to money at first but at his assurance she knew she would be fine. Well, he told her to rely on his personal assistant and she would do. She had no one else to trust and rely on and if her Angel said this man is trustworthy then she would trust him completely.

But as he took her into one of the stores Christine was unsure. After all, the clothing was so different to what she was used to. Some of it shorter than a girl would wear out in public. Yes her outfits when dancing were not the most conservative but they were costumes. That was different. When it came to her personal clothing, the clothing she had to wear when around others and not rehearsing, normally she was covered. She ran her hand over one of the dresses, a very short one that would fall just below her knees, and continued to look unsure.

Were they proper? What about sizing and pricing? It was all so different to what she knew of back home. A lot of her dresses she was lucky enough to have help purchasing or they would be made to fit. Oh goodness, she had no idea. And not only should they fit proper and not be too improper, they had to please Erik. And what if what she picked did not do so?

Lois turned the business card over in her hands, studying it yet again. As if somehow she would find more answers in the simple design.

She was back on the hunt for interview subjects. It had been between this person who claimed he could provide 'custom dreams' and the guy who was listed in the phonebook as a professional wizard.

Even though Lois had just been saved from King Kong by costumed superheroes, the idea of someone who could 'create' dreams seemed a bit far-fetched to her. There were rumors as to what services were actually ordered, but Lois was going to take everything with a grain of salt until she got proof otherwise.

All the same, it was interesting enough to investigate.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number on the back of the card.

Ring ring, at a proper business hour of about 8:30 AM.

The storm hit just as Zoe was about to pull on her night job uniform. At first it seemed like any other bit of rain, but then...She cursed softly, stowing away the Batgear. The suit was useful and probably would keep her safe, yet she really did not want to get caught somewhere in it. Instead, she changed into something more durable than a pair of heels and some designer business suit. Actually, she was rather happy to find something like her old clothes before she came to the City. So, she went out to find her way home, or at least get some idiots off the street. She wasn't considering herself as one of those idiots, just a big damn hero type.

The Wayne building had pretty much emptied out for the evening, and Zoe's suggestion to the right people that they batten down the hatches, get ready for a hell of a storm, had been heard. So, when it was all over, they were ready to start repairs. Windows on various floors were blown out. Research was either destroyed or missing. Experiments were going to have to be repeated. Records had to be found, if they could be. The flooding had been stopped before it hit one of the key server rooms. She probably hadn't needed to say anything to the staff; unlike other people from the City, this lot seemed to have it together. She hoped.

The Amazon never made it home that night. Instead she found herself holed up once more in an empty church building; she wasn't sure if it had been Book's or the one she'd found refuge in during the zombie infestation. It didn't matter. It was a pretty damn good shelter during the storm, and it served as such for more than just the warrior woman. As soon as the storm died down, she crawled out from the small barricade she and the others had made. Zoe made sure they all got out and were on their ways to somewhere safe. She reminded them to be wary; crazy types tended to take advantage after destruction like this, or so her time during the war had suggested.

During the storm, she tried not to think about anything other than those people gathered in the church building with her. She'd make sure they made it. Now that it was over, she called work. Everything seemed okay. Checked on Alfred, again okay - he'd taken stock of her hideout in the Wayne Building, okay too. Nothing broken that couldn't be replaced. Dinah and Jake? Alfred would get back to her on that. All the while there was a nagging inside, and finally she gave in to wonder if she should call Jesse. Zoe never dialed the number. Instead, she got this feeling that he was just fine; she also sent a small curse at that feeling for gorram godlike powers, too. She was smiling at the good news.

So, with the others on their way, she decided to be on her own way, maybe help out any people she could find. She might not be wearing the suit, but that didn't stop her from trying to help and making things right.

With the sudden outbreak of animals loose in the City, Raven had turned the Magic Box into something of a sanctuary. Granted, she didn't actually know any magic, but she had guts and keys to the store and a willingness to extend business hours. She kept the coffee pot on in the evening and sold cups of fresh-brewed Joe for a quarter. People could read or chat while they waited for the City bus in the relative safety and shelter of the shop.

(She hadn't been billing Mr. Rabbit for her overtime. It didn't seem right, since she hadn't exactly asked him if she could keep the place open late. If he wasn't losing anything on the deal, perhaps he wouldn't be angry?)

The number of customers varied. This was a quiet night - only the little demon girl and a handful of regulars who'd holed up in the corner to argue the merits of crystal-magic versus herb-magic. Darkness had fallen and Raven had locked the door, but a sign in the window instructed would-be patrons to 'Knock for Entry.'

It had been a long couple weeks. The Batman may have finally found a suit that works; it hid who was inside, and it was something that could be put on and taken off with little complications. R&D was closer to the Batmule - it was what Zoe called it in her head - than before. While she only partially understood why Alfred was a little wary about the glider that existed in the Batman's future incarnations, Zoe was not going to let up. She'd have a vehicle that suited her; the car, assault vehicle, and at least one motorbike were fine, but they were not what she wanted. Why have all these resources and not use them?

The Amazon had just finished cleaning up after a night of patrolling and maybe a few beat downs. She didn't come home injured, which she thanked whatever deity might have been listening. She also thanked the new suit. As she sipped a cup of tea, she went through some files that Alfred had left for her; she found that she was relying more and more on him lately, and that she didn't mind having a butler. It was probably wrong, yet she had other things on her mind. Like Joker, that was the current file. She recognized him as the guy who wanted to climb her and the same one who painted a penis on the side of a certain building. Joker. She also noticed a card.

"Custom dreams and realities..." Zoe laughed softly. "Background check?" Her brows raised. Why would anyone need a background check? Why would this card be here. Right underneath she found a note.

Madam,

This may be of some interest to you.

It was simple enough. The card and the note. Had he heard her yelling out one night when she fell asleep by accident? She'd been having nightmares, but she didn't think they were bad enough that Alfred, a man who seemed to understand and see more than he let on, thought he should offer advice so indirectly. But, if he thought it was important...It was at moments like these she missed Shepherd Book.

"Okay, old man." She dialed the number on the card, and waited. She sat up a little straighter when a voice came on. "Yes, I'd like to speak with Arthur."

The next day at a busy lunch found her sitting in the park, near a set of kiosks and roving vendors. The sunshine beckoned to the whole City it seemed, and everyone was having fun. Zoe, on the other hand, had settled down by the fountain with a pink ball of fluff. She understood it was spun sugar, but...it was just odd. She absently watched the children who had their own cotton candy and ice cream treats. She couldn't help the sad soft smile as she watched. One of these should have been hers.

The cards are white, simple, and comforting in their businesslike conformity. The raised black print is from a local shop, and Arthur only leaves them at establishments with expensive clientele, including restaurants with exotic cuisine, cigar clubs, Chinese medicine parlors, and purveyors of fine and collector's books. He asks permission to leave the cards and generally pays a small fee for them to sit in their little mirrored holders.

On one side, the card says:

CUSTOM DREAMS AND REALITIES
to your specifications

In small text, below, it says:

Clients must submit to full background check,
pricing upon request.

On the back, in the same black lettering, it says:

ARTHUR
009-555-5905

Beretta? Check. Silver bullets? Check. Knife? Check. Flask with holy water? Check and double check. ID…? Sam ran through the mental checklist, making certain each item was physically accounted for and on his person before taking further stock of his surroundings. At first glance, it appeared to be a normal motel room, in a normal city, but this time Sam knew better. And it still him flashbacks to the time the Trickster had stuck him in an endless loop of Tuesdays. “Come on, Sam,“ he muttered to himself as he stepped outside, “What is wrong with this picture?” 

The car parked outside his room, for one. That hadn't been there the last time he'd stepped out the door. 

It made him wonder...what else had changed?

Arthur wasn’t afraid of heights. If he’d ever been afraid of heights, over-exposure had probably squeezed it out of his system a long time ago. He stepped up the last step of the fire escape, a sturdy, to-code construction of twisted metal that Arthur approved of for its functionality as well as its design. ( Only Arthur chose buildings to jump from based on their aesthetic design. )

Well, date night had been interesting. It did teach Fred to pay more attention when she read flyers. It hadn't been bad, just not what she expected. Speed dating was not at all like a conference on time travel, not one bit. Well, she supposed it could be a little like time travel; daters were forced to go through a whole date in a short amount of time forcing them to go through many dates in one night, but it still wasn't exactly the same. She also didn't realize that there were a few odd balls out there, which was saying something seeing as she'd met Norman Bates, which reminded her that she was going to have to work up the courage to head out to the black and white part of town, which also made her feel a little racist. Was it racist to think of a place that was literally black and white as a black and white part of town? Or would it be better to think of it as the shades of gray part of town, seeing as it wasn't really and truly black and white?

"Yeah, gray part of town. Though that makes it sound rather sad and gloomy. I guess it is, but not all black and white shows are sad and gloomy." The brainy female had gotten into a bad habit of talking to herself, aloud. She had thought of going for food, but was caught off guard by a slightly larger Library. Or it seemed so. So, she'd made her way into the building and noticed that there was now...she wasn't sure what it was, but it looked for all the world to be a museum. There were a few small displays at the entrance, but the rest, well, it looked a little not ready. She wasn't sure she could go have a look, so she'd decided to look at what was up front. Nothing overly exciting really, just a few trinkets that looked a little modern and medical-ish. There was a small amulet too, which looked a little familiar.

She focused on her reflection in the glass case front and couldn't help the hint of smile. She had grown to be someone else since she came to the City, but she wondered if she hadn't changed very much. Her hand lifted and rested absently on the glass. It would have stayed there for a while had a security officer, which was an addition or she just hadn't noticed before, gave a soft cough and spooked her.

Amy Pond was harassing a lamppost. Or rather, a strange bit of technology that was attached to said lamppost.

"Okay. This one is on. Are you sure you're not getting any signal?" With her obviously Scottish accent the young twenty-something year old appeared to speak to no one in particular. It wasn't until she brushed back long red hair over her shoulder with blue painted fingernails one could notice the earpiece. There was a sigh.

"Doctor? Are you there? I said it's on. It's working. Are you there, Doctor?" Apparently she was in some sort of technological dead zone. The TARDIS wasn't picking up signal from either her earpiece or the piece of timey-wimey alien technology. Pulling out her earpiece Amy scolded it, "I really hate you."

She had until then she'd seemed almost normal compared to the madness of The City with it's shifting streets, vampires and unassuming police call boxes that were really alien time traveling space ships. Occasionally people walked past Amy or there would be a car, but for the most part her work was ignored. The City natives got under her skin. Like zombies that didn't eat brains - which somehow made them a little more unnatural.

Amy pocketed the ear piece. The street corner had already changed on her.

"Great. Now I'm lost again."