The Universe's Mixer

Dean hadn't seen Jo in a while, but he had a feeling she was still around. Something told him that he'd know if she were gone - mainly that a little creature by the name of Fred would let him know. Fred had been the one to tell him that Jack was gone. Perhaps she'd meant to tell Dinah, but the strange too smart for her own good woman had told him instead. He'd passed the information along.

He'd also told Dinah he was concerned about Jo, not having had a chance to speak with the hunter in a while, so he was going to go to her new place. He couldn't bring himself to call the bar by its name; it was a twisted joke, and Dean just wasn't going to join in on the laughter.

Purgatory was more than a little off putting, but he forged his way in, trying to ignore all the things he wanted to end. There were too many to try to act now, and rumor was there were precautions in place. Maybe Jo had mentioned it, maybe she hadn't. It didn't matter now; the place made his skin crawl, and that was saying something.

Settling down at the bar, the hunter's side of the bar, he order a beer and started to get a better look at the place, wishing he hadn't. As he did so, he noticed someone he hadn't seen in a while, and said someone was on the wrong side of the bar, serving the wrong kind of people.

"Son of a bitch."

Since he'd briefly met Logan Echolls, or rather... since he'd seen him at Eric's wedding, Lestat had kept quiet track of the boy.

He felt he had to.

Some of Lestat's blood ran in Eric's veins, now. And Eric had created this boy. He could not help but feel a little twinge of responsibility, wanted or not.

To his surprise and amusement, Logan and Veronica Mars, his favorite investigator, were an item. Even before Lestat found that out, he'd kept track of Veronica, too. He truly enjoyed her. He wished he could tell her that he was the one who'd given her the career-making tip off.

One day he would. When it was beneficial.

He'd tracked Logan tonight, stayed hidden, seen him take Veronica out on the fire escape, seen him use the Cloud Gift to take her on a joyride. Logan didn't know how lucky he was to be able to do such a thing; most fledgelings of Lestat's kind could not fly. Lestat himself only could because of Akasha.

Seeing Logan and Veronica entwined and flying reminded him of Akasha. Lestat lowered his eyes and set his jaw, reminding himself for the umpteenth time that Akasha was gone, that it was better that way.

He waited for Logan to leave, which he knew the boy would. His immortality was too new yet; he would likely not trust himself to stay the night with Veronica.

When Logan left the building, Lestat was waiting, standing across the street, bathed in the light of a streetlight. His hands were in his pockets to show he meant no threat.

Logan wasn't purposely trying to avoid his girlfriend, though he was still trying to sort out his cravings. Blood and sex were tied so closely together that it was just easier to try to figure out some way to control that away from her. He also didn't know how to talk to her about it. Then again, that was part and parcel for the two of them. Sweeping problems under the rug until they exploded into the light seemed to be par for the course. Not that it had worked out all that well in the past, but Logan just hoped that he would get a bit of a pass since he was dealing with something that was so far outside of anything either of them had experienced before.

During the weeks of darkness, he'd taken to following her from a distance to make sure she stayed safe. Maybe it could be seen as stalkerish, but he knew what lurked int he darkness and he'd be damned if he let any of those things get to her.

He missed her though and he was sure that her patience was growing thin with the fact that there'd been little more than a text message and a call here and there between the two of them. So he stopped by her apartment with Chinese food take-out by way of peace offering. He just hoped that it worked.

It wasn't a large explosion. No. It was just the right size and rather controlled. There was the smell of ozone and burnt flesh; the air felt electric. Everything seemed to have a strange hint of glow, almost like the afterimage left behind when one looks at a bright light or the sun.

The cabin sat, shaking ever so slightly. It had not been prepared for what just happened. It had come to help, but whatever was attacking its mistress kept biting at its legs. For once, some might say, the crone had taken pity on the poor cabin as it tried to defend her. Not just her by its yard. They had only just started the walk in the strangely dark day, just leaving the main castle grounds, when things started attacking the crone.

Baba Yaga did not like being attacked, and she liked it happening so close to not one but both her homes. Well, both her known homes anyway. She didn't care for it, and while the cabin was trying to be helpful, it was getting in the way of anything that could be truly devastating.

They weren't zombies. Or vampires. They were misbegotten things, green, scaly, and ugly. Apparently, the City thought it was a good idea to bring a few ogres from one of the kingdoms. A couple of them seemed to remember Red, and a few others seemed to remember how badly a certain Red had treated them. They saw her, but in the darkness, she could not see them. Attacking was the plan, only it didn't go the way they planned.

It wasn't a long fight. Once the cabin had gotten the hell out of the way, she was allowed to let loose a spell that burnt the closest ones to a crisp, as well as the grass beneath her feet, and her clothes. She thankfully came out of it little worse for wear. She hadn't gotten all of them; a few stood on the edge of the circle of death, wondering what to do. Attack her or run?

"Decide quickly. I haven't got all day." She was a little tired, but she'd survive, hiding the drain well. It'd been some time since she'd actually done something like that. Controlled magic of such power was much harder than creating a storm or nudging a libido.

Edward had been suffering a great deal over the last week or so, since things had gone so badly with Jonathan to the point where Edward had ended their relationship. It made more sense than just sticking it out despite what had happened between them. No no, Edwards ego was far too inflated for him to continue to be thrown under the bus any longer at the snap of Jonathan's fingers. And it was far too inflated to allow Edward to forgive Jonathan for what the man had done. He simply couldn't do it. It just wasn't possible. Though it broke his evil little heart, Eddie had decided to try to move on with his life, having moved himself entirely out of Arkham and back into the warehouse where he had been lurking before his incident with Bruce that landed him in the nut house. His re-location to Arkham had been willing, however, and Jonathan had insisted almost as if he had been trying to protect Edward. Well, that plan had certainly backfired on the good doctor, and this time Jonathan had no one to blame but himself.

Who needed love anyway, right?

Well, Edward did need love, despite what he wanted to allow himself to believe, and he was of course only human. Humans had needs and love was one of them unfortunately.

While he missed Jonathan terribly, Edward had kept the pain at bay by being intoxicated almost all of the time he'd been able to get to a bar or some place with access to alcohol since the time he'd left Stark Tower. He'd only been at the Tower long enough to walk Enigma home, and stop in for a minute to say hello to Timmy, his robotic grandson, but of course Enigma had tempted him with a minibar and that had been the start of the party.

That was how Eddie found himself at Purgatory, one of the few places that looked remotely tolerable despite the clientele. He didn't care who was drinking there, they could've been zombies and Eddie wouldn't have noticed or minded. All he cared about was getting completely drunk and not feeling a thing anymore.

He had managed to get through the bouncer at the door, the tiny, pretty little thing that was dictating who went in and who she turned away, making a bee line for the bar once he was inside. He didn't care much for the music, but once he'd had a few drinks the music had become only a buzz in the background.

His head swam, but he felt a little better, keeping to himself as he sat alone at the bar, curled almost against the counter itself, a shell of the man he usually was.

Why did love have to be so hard? He hated it when things got complicated.

He took another sip of whatever the bartender had given him, not really caring what it was, and set the glass down on the counter, before taking a slow glance around at the patrons that surrounded him. It was almost like a dream, the way the people moved, or maybe he was just too drunk to remember what reality was.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was he was finally beginning to feel better.

Finally.

Logan had kept to himself over the holidays. Christmas had always been pretty miserable growing up and he couldn't fall back on his typical activity for New Years' Eve since he could no longer consume alcohol. He supposed that he could have gotten a buzz by feeding on one of the many partygoers of the night, but he'd chosen to just keep a low profile.

Things with Veronica were weird, to say the least. Not that he could blame her, but he wasn't all that confident that she would just suddenly be okay with his new state of existence. She was trying, he would give her that. He just didn't get the feeling that she trusted him any more than she'd ever had.

Logan decided to venture back out onto the streets after the new year. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he'd know when he found it. He'd sated himself with Tru Blood but that never did quite satisfy. He was always a little on edge, always craving live blood.

The City lights twinkled merrily as he roamed through the streets, covering ground quickly as he went. Or perhaps the City was just being cooperative and moving quickly under his feet. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

Logan was now bruised and bloody and the worse for the wear after his encounter with the Hulk. The part of him that used to be a teenaged boy was geeking out over the fact that there was actually a freaking Hulk in the City, just a little bit. But who he was now-the baser side of his nature-just wanted to rip into someone.

Whatever the situation, he needed to feed more than ever now. He was in bad shape and blood would restore him.

He did know that he would have to be more careful with wherever he got his blood from. Perhaps he would just head back to the bar and help himself to some synthetic blood, though that didn't sound anywhere near appetizing at the moment.

If he had to, he would. But for now, his eyes were open for anyone else that might make an easy meal. He would just have to get their name and make sure he wasn't feeding on someone who could really fight back. He might even have to glamour them if need be.

Bruce was finally out of his room, having been feeling rather low as of late, needing the fresh air and the change of scenery. The night was being good to him, as well, offering a full moon, bright stars and a mild breeze which teased at his clothes and hair in a capricious manner, causing him to smile a little at the very thought of being blown away. That would never happen, of course, especially since now he felt more like an anchor than anything. He had nothing to fear but himself, and maybe that was more frightening than anything in the history of the world. He wasn't exactly sure. He knew he'd yet to meet anything any more frightening than himself as of yet. And then there was the thought in the back of his mind about what Dinah said that day in the library. Vampires? Was that true? He was still undecided. She had seemed serious enough, and she seemed to know things about this city that he would probably come to know in time. However it still puzzled him. Did they really exist? It couldn't be scientifically true.

He walked slowly down a back alleyway, trying to remember his way back to the warehouse, as it was getting late. The prototype of his new watch needed to be finished as it was near completion, he just hasn't felt like working on it as of late. He had given Dinah his other gps watch, figuring she might find it more useful. He was a smart man, he would find his way back. He could've had a car if he'd wanted one, but he was afraid of being enclosed in such a small space surrounded by metal. That was never a good combination. He wasn't exactly sure if he would ever drive, fly or sail, but at the present time that meant little to him. There were more important things.

He wore khaki colored slacks, which had a hidden stretchy band on the inside, a purple button up shirt that was only fastened to right at the clavicle, and a pair of soft soled loafers. He hadnt really had a need for tighter fitting clothes until he'd run into Enigma and moved into her place. It seemed only right that he remained decent looking and not like a homeless caveman, which is what he did look like until the night Enigma found him. He was grateful to her.

Now he needed to find his way back, and the hour was drawing later and later, and he was tired from being tired. He was tired of a lot of things, but some o those were very much out of his control.

He continued along the alley, making no sound against the concrete, watching a small cat scurry around a dumpster, as if it were afraid. It should be. Poor kitty.

Pam stood in the middle of what used to be Fangtasia. She didn’t move. She just stood there in her khakis and cashmere. There were small red spots on the pink, and if one only looked at the sweater, one might think the strange pattern had been on purpose. If one moved closer, or one had preternatural senses, one would know what was on her sweater was blood, and it wasn’t human. If one actually looked at her face, one would see the telltale traces of the vampire’s tears on her cheeks.

The petite vampire had worked hard with and for Eric to build up the hole in the wall place in a hole in the wall city of Shreveport. She’d worked damn hard to make it a booming business, and could be credited for part of its success. This was partly hers, and now...now some fucknut of an unseen entity had come in and ruined it.

She might brush away the tears with words, saying that the decor hurt her soul or some such, but it was the very nature of the beast that brought forth tears. Or more the very undoing of the bar as she had helped to make it.

So, there she stood, still as a statue. The bloody tears dried to her cheeks and her sweater. She knew eventually she would have to stop moping, but at the moment, she didn’t really care to.

( ---- )

Logan could avoid like the best of them. He was good at self-denial, self-deluding... yeah, usually he was good at drowning his sorrows only that wasn't exactly an option anymore. Not unless he found a drunk person to feed on. Which he certainly had done a time or two, but his issues with self-control in regards to alcohol seemed to translate into looking for that 'buzz' in a somewhat different way as well.

When it came down to it, there was only so long he could postpone telling Veronica about his new status of being technically dead. Or undead as it were.

He was scared out of his mind that he'd lose her again. It seemed he was always on the edge of losing her and this situation was no different.

All the same, he finally manned up and worked up the courage to drop in for a visit.

Note: There is no posting order in this. We know that some people won't be able to throw in very often or as fast as we will. Don't worry about it. Just jump if you see a chance you want to take. Otherwise, we'll count your kids as there and witnessing what happens

Eric had sent out a messenger with the invitations to the actual wedding ceremony. A thing that would be small and intimate with only those in attendance who were important to either him or Baba or the both of them. He didn't think that this part of it needed to be in the public eye, and he didn't want any interruptions or missteps. This part of it was very important to him. Eric had not taken a wife since Aude. He'd never thought to ever again. He wasn't the sort of vampire who enjoyed living in a nest and he didn't require constant companionship that other beings craved. But he did love Baba and did want for this to happen.

The time he picked for it all to happen was late night. He wanted his vampires able to attend but not have to worry about too much time between the ceremony itself and when the reception would begin. The moon was full and the stars were out in force. It was warm but breezy.

Location had been a little more difficult. He didn't want it to be traditional, but he also didn't want it to feel as if they were getting married in a school cafeteria. In the end, he picked a building he had found when he'd first begun to be able to walk in the sun. It was an old building. It had been in the City for a very long time. It looked as if it had been transported from England, from a time before Pam was even born. It was also empty and had been for some time. It was unused and ignored. Eric had it cleaned and decorated. Everything was in darker shades of purple, even the flowers which were orchids and some of which were almost black. Candles were the only illumination, and there were hundreds of them. All carefully placed around the edges of where they would be.

Eric had gone with her suggestion of royalty in some ways, but not others. The colors for one. But instead of some garish kingly outfit, he was wearing a very nice and finely tailored Armani suit. On his head he wore a simple iron crown that was very much like the one his father had worn. Just a circle of metal with a little decoration carved out at four points. He had sent Baba a crown as well. Hers a little more fancy than his own.

He waited with the man that she had picked to officiate the wedding. Eric didn't know him, but knew of him. He would have known immediately upon meeting that this wasn't just some human, though he'd been told as much already.

The crone stretched and rolled over to find that the bed was empty. It wasn't overly shocking, but there were times she did like waking up to the Viking's cool body beside hers. She smiled slightly, knowing he was somewhere in the City without even trying. She could find him, pinpoint him, and be at his side as quickly as she'd like, but she was pleased with simply knowing he was indeed around and did not seem to be in any trouble. A hint angry perhaps but not in trouble.

She stretched again, got out of bed, and put on the usual summer dress and sandals after a quick shower and a look in the mirror. She had changed, and she might continue. It bothered her on a little; she liked being more in control, yet she knew it wasn't always in her grasp. She laughed softly at how she seemed to accept that a little better at that particular moment. With a shrug, she headed out.

Her destination was wherever the City took her. They weren't as connected as they had been, but the City wasn't keeping itself completely from her either. She had access to its power, and tonight, she simply let it change the streets around her. Of course, when it put a building directly in her path she might have been a touch upset, but, keeping with the rather laid back theme of the evening, she only slapped the building's wall and turned, stopping when she saw what felt more like a bad monster movie monstrosity, even if it didn't appear to be obviously so.

It was but wasn't Fangtasia. Well, the City had something in mind for her after all.

She stepped off the curb, crossed the street, and walked in, only to be hit by just how wrong the City had gotten it. The crone tsked softly as she took a seat on the more vampiric side of the bar.

"You really screwed this one up, didn't you?" The crone spoke softly into the air.

Logan still had Eric's business card in his wallet. In fact, he'd programmed the number into his phone. Just in case.

He was curious. Of course he was curious. Who wasn't curious about the prospect of eternal life? He didn't know exactly why Eric had offered him that chance, and in fact Logan hadn't known anyone who wanted him around for one lifetime, let alone several.

Not that he would take the vampire up on the offer. Not right now. He had a life that he couldn't just walk away from. And there was Veronica. He had Veronica. Somehow, Logan didn't think that she would be all that cool with the idea of her boyfriend becoming a bloodsucking creature of the night.

So the number was in his phone-just on the off chance that circumstances changed dramatically-but for the most part, it was forgotten about.

In fact, Eric and the offer didn't come into Logan's mind again until he turned right at an intersection and saw the car careening toward him. It was one of those odd moments where time seemed to slow down just long enough for a person to think "Huh. Isn't that funny?" about a missed opportunity or some other regret in life.

After that there was the horrible sound of metal crunching and the sensation of soaring through a windshield.

Logan landed on a hard surface some distance away from his car. How far, he really wasn't sure. In fact, he wasn't sure of anything.

Somehow, his fingers found his phone and managed to get to a listing in his contacts. He pressed send and mumbled something that was nigh-unintelligible. Perhaps it was a plea for help or perhaps it was a plea for something that would save him.

There was calm in the bar. But not the kind of calm that says everybody is having a good time, and everyone is going to leave happy. It was the kind of peace that only comes before a big storm. Where every moment that goes by without words or laughter just makes everyone more tense. The only sounds that could be heard were the scraping of chairs across the floor and drinks being put down. The music in the background was loud, but it seemed to be faded out. As if it were a soundtrack being played over the top instead of coming from the jukebox.

People had been ill at ease lately. The City not moving, then suddenly starting again. The citizens were confused, they were ready to break.

All it took was one guy lightly bumping into another as he tried to get by, a drink spilling a small drop onto a shoe. Then the shouting match started. Soon, almost everyone in the bar was on their feet, taking sides, even if they had no personal quarrel. The noise became great, then. People turning to the person closest to them to start their own fight over more little slights that wouldn't have gotten more than a harsh look on any other day.

Nobody could have said later who did it. Who threw the first punch. But it happened.

Then, chaos.

( notes )

Charlie was on his own for the evening, and that could mean any number of things. This particular evening meant checking out a bar he'd heard about. Supposedly there was karaoke and fortune telling. He wasn't sure he needed his fortune told, nor was he all that sure he wanted to sing; but, he was curious. He gave in to curiosity and hoped he wasn't the cat in the box with the possible poisonous gas. Dead, yet not dead. That was a thinker.

He stepped into Caritas, his badge in a pocket not out to be seen, just always there. His off-duty piece stored at his hip under a light jacket. The blade was stored in his pocket. He didn't plan on doing anything with them, but he didn't go anywhere without any of it. He also was curious to see how a certain riotous type was doing. He knew Logan Echolls worked here; he wanted to know if the kid was still working and doing well. He knew this could end badly, but he wanted to know all the same.

The detective headed slowly toward the bar, pausing when he thought he saw someone with a horn? He knew some people liked putting things under their skin to give themselves an interesting profile. Everyone had control, for the most part, of his or her own body; if they wanted to augment, it was their choice, wasn't it? Even if he always thought that extreme augmentation was...extreme. Charlie wasn't much for extremes.

Dinah was doing the avoiding thing for the most part. Zee had tried to call and she'd sent a text telling her friend that she just needed some time and would call when she was ready. She didn't want to talk to her friends right now, but she did want to keep busy. Which meant that she'd been spending a lot of time working on getting the shop fixed up. She was currently sweeping up the glass and soon she would be installing the new windows that had just been delivered. Unlike the last time the shop had gotten trashed when the materials to fix it up had just magically appeared, Dinah had had to wait for everything to be delivered.

But it was here now, and working with her hands was exactly what she needed.

Working with her hands and... answers, really. She needed answers. She wanted to know what had happened to Jake. She needed to know if he had made it back home-even if she dreaded the confirmation of that news.

She knew how his story turned out. She knew that if he'd made it back home, he didn't have long before his death.

She knew all that.

But she still needed to know. Not knowing was driving her crazy.

Somewhere in the middle of sweeping up the last of the glass, it hit her. There might be someone in the City who could answer her questions. Someone who had shown up when they'd needed him most. She still didn't know if he was a god-or God, capital G, or just a guy with god-like abilities. She really didn't know what to believe in that.

She also didn't know how to get ahold of him, and she wasn't usually much for praying.

All the same, she did say a little prayer. She wasn't sure if she should say it silently or out loud. And she wasn't really sure if she was wasting her time or not.

"Um, Jesse. If you're out there, I could really use someone to talk to right now. I suppose if you are around, you're probably busy with more important things. Assuming you can hear me at all. But if you can hear me and you're not too busy... I could really use your help."

A tear slipped down her cheek as she admitted out loud that she needed help, but she just swiped at it and went back to sweeping. She didn't expect an answer, but she'd tried anyway.

Jensen was feeling pretty thrashed emotionally after Fred left. It didn't help that she pretty much told him how much of an ass he was. He didn't need her to tell him that. He knew that already, but damn it he was allowed to be pissed off! And hurt. But you don't tell people you're hurt when you're a guy. No. What you do is you text message another guy that you were in a vulnerable place right now and wanted to do something stupid like go out and get drunk off of whiskey and hurricane shots in an effort to numb the ouchy parts, possibly get in a pointless and needless fight and he should come be supportive. That translates to:

Dude. Girls suck. Beers? Sent to Logan's phone. Logan, who responded in kind to something that translated into: I totally understand and sympathize, man. Why yes I would be happy to meet you for imbibing alcohol and support you in your hour of need for indulgance and school yard behaviour. Still won't bail you out of jail, though.

Logan had the night off and suggested another bar to go to, some place called The Roadhouse. Jensen had texted back saying if Patrick Swayze was going to be there to not be nice when it was time it was a no go. He was assured there would be no Swayze ass kicking so to the Roadhouse it was. He showed up with the mostly dead flowers and tossed them on the bar in front of Logan before sliding onto a barstool. "Here. Don't say I never gave you anything."

It was 'date night' for Logan and Veronica. Which meant that he had the night off from Caritas and he'd actually been able to pry her away from her case long enough to watch the Big Lebowski and eat some takeout. Logan hadn't seen a whole lot of his girlfriend lately, so he'd actually made an effort to clean up the discarded beer bottles and pizza boxes so his apartment was presentable.

Man, he missed having a maid or at least room service.

Unfortunately, those days were behind him which meant that his apartment usually looked like the typical slob's bachelor pad. Which meant that it had taken the better part of an hour to get it looking more like... a slightly neater bachelor pad.

The food had already been delivered, which meant he was just waiting on Veronica. He was already hoping that he could distract her from the movie after they'd had the chance to eat. Especially since they hadn't seen that much of each other lately. Hey, he'd missed her and all the things that went along with seeing her on a regular basis.

Life was actually going smoothly, for once. Logan realized that he'd better not get used to that. After all, nothing went smoothly for very long. Especially not his life.

But for the moment, he had his job and he had Veronica. Things were going fairly well at Caritas. Even with the arrival of a new bar in the City (yes, Logan actually kept an eye on these things int terms of competition potential now) business at the karaoke bar was still going well.

He was actually taking time for the moment to study. Which meant holing up at a nearby Starbucks with coffee, his laptop and its wi-fi connection and trying to keep himself from getting distracted by gamefaqs.com while he worked on a paper for one of Business classes.

Logan didn't usually like Christmas. Christmas at the Echolls household had involved big showy parties where everything was over-the-top and everyone looked the other way while his dad had snuck off with half the female guests at the party. Then there was the actual day of, which usually involved presents (the good) and fights, generally of the particularly nasty kind that Logan preferred to repress.

Repressing was always good.

All his dislike for Christmas aside, he knew that Veronica did like Christmas. He also knew that this was her first Christmas where she didn't even have the option to celebrate with her dad. While he couldn't literally relate to missing a father, he knew how close Veronica was with her father and he knew that this time of year might be hard for her.

Which was why he was more than willing to celebrate Christmas with his girlfriend. He was doing well at Caritas, though not nearly as well as when he'd been living off the trust fund. All the same, he was doing well enough to get something nice for her.

So he showed up, right on time, at Veronica's apartment and pushed the buzzer to be let in.