11/11/97

Metropolis: Teaboro/Senneville
 Teaboro gained its name from its pre-Revolutionary War participation in
 protests against the unfair tea taxes, when the citizens of the area burned
 down the warehouses of the East India Tea Company. Today, Teaboro is the
 site of Metropolis International Airport, which is one of the nation's three
 busiest airports. Situated on the island of Hell's Gate, it lies between the
 mouth of the West River and the Atlantic Ocean. Senneville, which serves as
 Metropolis's resort area, lies directly to the east. The neighborhood offers
 a wide range of recreational activities such as swimming, fishing, and
 sailing. The area also has beachfront resort hotels (some offering legalized
 gambling) and amusement parks that could rival Disneyland in size and
 diversity.
Obvious exits:

New Troy <NW>  The Old City <SW>  Metropolis International Airport <A>

*OOm-pa-pa* *OOm-pa-pa*
	Organ music; chipper, gay, and frothy sounding. Upbeat and quaint
in its old timiness. Only...something about the tune the organ is playing
isn't quite right. The music is coming from a chubby, cheerful man, in a
black suit and top hat, grinding a little black and green ornamental
victorian organ box. There's balloons around him, tied to a signpost and a
little display. A small crowd has gathered, and you can vaguely tell he's
speaking to the crowd.

She -had- been watching the people losing money in extremely inventive
ways, over by the casinos. That had gotten dull after awhile, though, so
Gina now walks along the boardwalk, just listening to everything. The
unusual music catches her attention, and she wanders closer, trying to
catch a glimpse of the musician through the cluster of people.

"Come one...come all...and hear tell of the fantastic, the amazing, the
rarified, and peculiar. Come one, come all..." The man is saying, almost
in time to the slightly strange organ music. A few dewey eyed kids are
watching, licking lollipops, playing with balloons offered to them by the
man. Parents, couples, and assorted lollygaggers stand around in a semi
circle. A taxi-cab driver on his break mutters to a tired looking matron
of a woman. "What's this guy sellin'?" "I /think/ he's with some show of
some sort..." The organ grinder smiles at the woman. "A show of some sort?
Madame, I am with the show."

Gina blinks, and goes closer. She sidesteps a couple of people, ending up
in the front. She doesn't say anything, just listens. . o O (Hmm. A bit
arrogant there. But his story might be interesting, if he's going to tell
one like he says.)

With a grand flourish of his gloved hand, the man gestures behind himself
to the wooden handpainted sign. He reads aloud without looking over his
shoulder, having apparently memorized the bill. "The Moses and Milton
Mystery Carnival And Exhibition of the Unusual! On its way to this fine
city among cities, having made a triumphant track across this great
country of ours. Mssrs Moses and Milton promise a spectacle heretofore
unprecedented in the annals of delight and bewilderment! A carnival
unsurpassed in any of the eight corners of the world!" He pauses, adding
with a light smile. "At only 5 dollars for adults, and 2 dollars for the
little people and young old folks."

Gina inclines her head slightly. "Which one are you?" she asks in a
softspoken but direct voice.

The man in the top hat smiles beatifically upon Gina. "Why, the latter of
course, my dear." Some brief chuckles from the crowd. The man presses on.
"Now, my dear Metropolitans...you ask...what's so special about a
carnival? Another rickety old sideshow with stale cotton candy and rickety
rides? Well, my purpose is to tell you just what is so special about the
Moses and Milton Myster Carnival and Exhibition of the Unusual!"

Gina:
	To educated eyes, this girl is obviously a Discordian - to the
masses, however, she is but a slacker. Her light brown hair is pulled back
into a loose ponytail, with bright green clips on the sides that keep most
of the whisps under control. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then
through her grey ones you can sense a brilliant intellect that lacks the
proper motivation, and a bitingly sardonic wit. At this point, Gina's
rather tanned, but you can still see freckles across her young face. Her
nose is well formed, but slightly snubbed, which adds to the mischievous
effect produced by her wry grin and roguish eyes.
	Gina's wearing a dark green t-shirt, which is (quite carelessly)
completely un-tucked, a pair of rather beat-up wide legged jeans, and
Airwalks. The shirt bears one of the more recognisable logos of 'They
Might Be Giants', and the airwalks are painted in a variety of
mismatching, eye-catching colours. Around her waist is tied a
grey-and-white flannel shirt, the cuffs of which are severely unraveling.

Gina shoves her hands in her pockets, and keeps listening, a dubious
expression on her face.

"Mssrs Moses and Milton promise the following; The Hall of Holograms! A
step forward..nay...a leap...into the age of the laser! Yes, a Hall of
Mirrors, yet composed of three dimensional technology unseen by most men,
and arrayed to the responses of our guests! Then, the Rocketsled! To call
this a roller coaster would be to insult it's designers! This marvelous
and superbly designed craft of the next millenium is brough to /you/, the
public, in an exciting and amazing thrill ride that must be experienced to
be explained."

Even as looks of amazement or condescension form on the faces of people
around her, GIna's eyebrows shoot up. "This for five bucks?" she asks,
disbelievingly.

Gina thinks . o O (Roadside amusement. Gotta be, for that cheap, and from
someone like that.)

The announcer has quite a crowd now. Dubious or amazed, the faces of the
crowd are all locked on him. He gestures to a placard behind him. "See the
Devilish Haunted Man! A mortal gifted with powers of perception into the
great beyond! No mere fortune teller, you can /see/ his ghostly guests and
friends! See the Beasttamer extraordinaire, Miss Nedry, as she faces the
Great White Shark 'Gargutan' in his very tank! A bucket full of tarantulas
are poured onto her body, and yet she lives! These and many more examples
of the unusual, and the arcane can be seen. But wait..." He points at
Gina. "I see an unbeliever."

The crowd glances at Gina.

Gina grins crookedly and doffs an imaginary hat.

Smiling, the man returns the gesture. "My dear young girl; you say you do
not believe me? That this list of the startling does not impress you?"

Off in the distance across the sky, flies a familiar hero on her daily
patrol through the city. A few people along the street and in other parts
of the surrounding park take notice, some of them pointing, others
thinking nothing of it. o O ( Slow day today, but I guess even the bad
guys take a few holidays off. Looks like a crowd in the park, maybe I can
go take a look, beats flying around looking for crimes that aren't
happening. ) Almost instantly, Supergirl's form gets lost in a low cloud
and vanishes.

Gina shrugs noncommitally. Inside her burns amusement, and a pang of
guilt, as she thinks, . o O (No, no, I shouldn't. Even if -I- think it's a
crock, I shouldn't ruin it for other people.) She answers, a hint of
arrogance in her voice, "I believe every word you say. But you're right -
I'm not impressed. A ventriloquist with an impressive array of mirrors
could achieve your haunted man; there are nonlethal tarantulas; and..well,
a shark in a tank...I don't know. It'd be impressive if it weren't a shark
in captivity, but..." she trails off, and shrugs again.

The man smiles, and there's the signs of agreement running through the
chatter in the crowd. Holding up his hands, the man smiles to Gina. "You
are a bright and worldly child, my dear. Would it help your opinion of my
employer's offerings if I were to show you...an example?"

Gina replies guardedly, "It might. What did you have in mind?"

Supergirl_Invis floats down gently and hovers above the crowd unseen,
relaxing for a moment to watch whatever show it is they're gathered here
to see, catching the last part of Gina's setence and the response by the
man. . o O ( Sounds like a carnival, I guess it wouldn't hurt if I stayed
and watched for just a little while. )

As if on cue, the man stops grinding the organ. The music stops, and he
opens the box itself. There's some gasps and mutterings from the crowd.
The box is empty, save for a trio of smaller green, red, and yellow boxes
on the space where the works for the music box /should/ be. "Now,
miss...would you pick a box?"

Gina raises a single brow, and peers into the box. "You...hmm," she
starts, but doesn't finish. She points to the green box. "That one."

Gina thinks . o O (It can be done! Betcha he's got a tape player in there
somewhere, or some kind of piezo-electric thingie, which turns off when
you stop turning the crank...or something..)

With a wink and a nod, the man in the top hat picks up the green box
gingerly. "Now; what would you say if I told you that within this box was
a special invitation...from someone very special...for you, miss."

Gina grins! "I'd say that unless it had my name on it, then -anyone- can
do it. I'm a paid cynic, after all."

With a bow of his body, the man presents the box to Gina. "Take it then,
with my blessing." His eyes twinkle with merriment.

Supergirl_Invis watches silently, finding it all very interesting. o O ( I
bet she was hired to do this by the people who run the show. )

Gina blinks, looks at the box for a second, then takes it and lifts the
lid.

The box opens up as Gina looks at it. Inside, there's a tiny image of a
calico alleycat with one eye. It speaks in a tinny little voice. "Gina
Dare; It's Kitty! Come to the Carnival! It'll be fun." It smiles
cartoonishly. There's some more gasps from the crowd.

Slamming the lid shut and paling considerably, Gina looks back up at the
man. She forces out the words, "If...if that was supposed to make me
-want- to come, I'd...I'd hate...to see what you'd do to keep me away!"

With a dismissive smile, the man motions to the crowd. "Anyone else want a
special invitation? Miss...Dare, is it? Miss Dare has won a free week's
supply of tickets! Who else!" Hands shoot up.

Gina shoves the box back at him and backs away, keeping him in her sight
as she leaves. However, she watches from what she deems a safe distance,
wanting to see what happens next, in spite of herself.

In Gina's mind, Kitty's 'voice' chimes in again: "Curiousity killed the
cat, but it might make Gina fat." There's a tinny laugh, and a weird echo.
The words sink into her subconcious like water into taffy.

The man hands out the other two boxes, with similarly startling effect on
the people who view them. There's a general hubub. The man in the top hat
pauses as he elaborates on the opening hours of the carnival, squinting
into the crowd for a second. The eyes maybe looking for Mae. Probably not;
she is invisible after all. "Now, gentle friends, I must bid you a fond
farewell...much more spreading of the word to do! Adieu!" With a flourish
and another bow, he tips his hat, and starts gathering the signs,
placards, and music box.

Gina bites her lip, watching silently.

Supergirl_Invis examines Gina a moment, . o O ( She looks upset . . .
maybe it's part of the act to make it convincing. Hope she doesn't believe
any of this, it's just a show. ) Her gaze wanders to the man offering more
'unbelievable' tricks.

A tall man with pale features walks from apparently nowhere, and takes up
the burden of the items as the man in the top hat passes them over. The
man in the top hat winks to his companion, muttering "Come now, Ineo. We
have to hit Hob's Bay and the Central Business District before the night
is out..." The bigger man nods, solemnly, his pokerface unchanging as he
starts to walk out of the crowd.

Gina turns and walks off quickly. She looks like she wants to run, but
that's just so, SO undignified. Really, it /is/.

A rickety van pulls up with similar synchronicity to Ineo's appearance,
its driver a wizened old woman. The side panels of the van have been
painted with the 'Moses and Milton' logo in bright red green and yellow
colors. Ineo and Tophat open the back of the van, and start putting things
into the van.

Supergirl_Invis floats there a moment, slightly disappointed . o O ( That
was quick . . . all he did was an illusion the box. Maybe he's advertising
a larger carnival somewhere else, sounded like that's what he was talking
about. ) She catches Gina rushing off out of the corner of her eye and
looks in her direction.

Tophat peers over his shoulder with an unconcealed sneer after the
invisible Supergirl. "Lets get moving, Ineo." He moves into the back with
the luggage, and Ineo follows. The back door shuts, and the van starts its
engine rumbling again.

As the van drives past, Gina can't help but notice something metallic
sticking out of the base of the old woman's neck. The van trundles off,
and is soon lost in the streets of the Big Apricot.

Supergirl_Invis misses Tophat's sneer as she looks in Gina's direction, .
o O ( Maybe I should leave her alone, it was only a show after all . . )

Gina's eyes widen, and she slows, and stops. She puts her hands in her
pockets, and bites her lip again. . o O (What the -hell-?)

Supergirl_Invis shifts her form into something less attention-grabbing
before descending to the ground. Quickly, she looks around the park and
finds a relatively hidden but close spot where she become visible.

Supergirl_Invis starts to change shape and takes the form of Linda.


<later, at Metropolis's Centennial Park>

	*OOm-pa-pa* *OOm-pa-pa*
	Organ music; chipper, gay, and frothy sounding. Upbeat and quaint
in its old timiness. Only...something about the tune the organ is playing
isn't quite right. The music is coming from a chubby, cheerful man, in a
black suit and top hat, grinding a little black and green ornamental
victorian organ box. There's balloons around him, tied to a signpost and a
little display. A small crowd has gathered, and you can vaguely tell he's
speaking to the crowd.

Henry Johnson quirks an eyebrow at the scene, wincing a bit as he notices
the musical...wrongness of the song ..o0(Hey...can't expect the Metroplis
Symphony.) He chuckles to himself, and heads over, wondering what this
strange man is talking about.

Tophat beams at the park crowd, his little spot on the lawn of Centennial
Park marked by a ring of light thrown by a nearby lampost. "Come one, come
all; come hear tell of a fascinating and fantastic ornamention that is
coming here...yes, here...to the park! In a matter of days! Sights and
scenes unheard of, unrecorded in the annals of entertainment and
curiousity!"
	The crowd watches, entranced, bemused, or just bored enough to
listen.

Henry Johnson grins widely, always loving a circus, and continues to
watch. He leans over to an aging man nexts to him. "What's this? A circus
coming to town?"

*-------------------------------------------*
	Before you stands an honestly impressive man of obvious African
lineage. His cool, calm brown eyes seem to almost radiate a mixed feeling
of well-being and happiness coupled with the pain and guilt of a time long
since dead. He wears facially the marks of a man who has seen much pain
and death. However, he also bears the look of a man who has learned to
live with that pain, and to use it to find direction. His head is
completely bald, although it is not obvious whether this is due to age or
a razor. This is Henry Johnson, a man known well locally for his work with
the children from the slums of Metropolis, the disadvantaged.
	He stands at about 6'4", and is quite heavily muscled. His build
seems to suggest that at one point in his life he was a reasonably
competent athlete, perhaps a football player. And, apparently, he has
continued to keep himself in the maximum modicum of health. His hands
occasionally open and close, reflexively, as if at every moment he expects
something to happen, something unpleasant.
	His manner of dress is simple, a black, button-down shirt, and a
pair of brown jeans. On his feet are a well-kept pair of cross-trainers,
black, fitting in well with the rest of his ensemble. The sleeves of his
shirt are rolled up to the base of his biceps, showing off his frame even
more.

The older man shrugs his wool-covered shoulders. "Don't rightly know,
young feller." He looks up at you. "Sounds like a carnival or somethin'
though, alright..." He points at a brightly painted sign behind Tophat and
his music box.

Henry Johnson nods, eyes following in the direction indicated. Squinting
just a bit, he attempts to read it.

The placard reads:
	The Moses and Milton Mystery Carnival And Exhibition of the
Unusual! On its way to this fine city among cities, having made a
triumphant track across this great country of ours. Mssrs Moses and Milton
promise a spectacle heretofore unprecedented in the annals of delight and
bewilderment! A carnival unsurpassed in any of the eight corners of the
world!

Tophat's banter continues as you read. "...and this fine city's own
citizens...that's right, folks...you...your friends and relations as
well...are all invited to attend. What do you get for your ticket, you
ask? What's a rickety old carnival to me, an upstanding urbanite of the
new century?" He makes a flourishing roll of his wrist. "Pray, listen, and
I will tell you..."

Henry Johnson smiles, thinking to himself. ...o0(Sounds like fun...I'll
have to check it out...) He then stops, thinking of the large crowd around
him, a sure target for two-bit punks who love to ruin any good time with
their selfishness. He takes a quick scan over the crowd, simply to make
sure that there is nothing wrong...he then brings his attention back to
Tophat, grinning.

Tophat continues, his pace unrelenting, and his smile bright as the
lamplight. "Mssrs Moses and Milton promise the following; The Hall of
Holograms! A step forward..nay...a leap...into the age of the laser! Yes,
a Hall of Mirrors, yet composed of three dimensional technology unseen by
most men, and arrayed to the responses of our guests! Then, the
Rocketsled! To call this a roller coaster would be to insult it's
designers! This marvelous and superbly designed craft of the next
millenium is brough to /you/, the public, in an exciting and amazing
thrill ride that must be experienced to be explained." It sounds like he's
recited this a number of times, but it works up some more excitement in
the crowd. People are smiling along with you, their Metropolitan cynicsm
fading a bit. Some still frown and look dubious, of course, but the
majority are fascinated.

Henry Johnson stops chuckling, looking at Tophat now. ...o0(Must be some
new sort of tech...never heard of responsive...mirrors...strange). Without
jostling too many people, he weeds his way closer...all the while watching
Tophat.

One of the unsmiling faces in the crowd sticks out; its a tall pale man,
with a broad shouldered and loping build. His sunken brown eyes scan the
surroundings, his expression blank, almost dead.

"Bull-loney." A raggedly dressed man says. "You ain't givin' it away, are
you?"

Henry Johnson looks at the man, then Tophat, frowning. He squeezes closer
to the pale man, occasionally glancing to the man in ragged clothing.
...o0(All very strange...too strange...)

Tophat looks sympathetically at the homeless man. "Ah; an underprivleged
friend. My dear sir; we make no pretense of being a not-for-profit
organization, but our Carnival is so envigorating and entertaining, that
we can offer tickets for a pittance compared to most other shows; 5
dollars for adults, and only 2 for the little folk and our older patrons."

The pale man's eyes seem to suddenly alight on you. They stay there. His
expression stays the same, but the steady gaze is unnerving to say the
least.

Henry Johnson looks over at Tophat again, not liking that answer one bit,
but accostomed to the typical carnival rhetoric. He looks back at the pale
man, a bit unnerved by that gaze. "You doing okay, sir?"

There's some agreeing nods. 5 dollars; cheaper than a movie in Metropolis.
Cheaper than some video store rentals. 2 dollars for kids and the old
folks? A family affair. The thoughts of the crowd are apparent. The ragged
man rubs his grizzled jaw, muttering.

A woman by the pale man glances at you, wondering if you mean her portly
husband. "Huh?"
	The pale man shakes his head. Tophat's voice interjects: "Oh,
don't mind him, good sir. Just my associate and assistant, Ineo. He's
mute, I'm afraid. Actually, he's one of our special attractions..."

Henry Johnson looks back at Tophat, "Oh? Really? Do go into more
detail...youhave my [D[Ccuriousity piqued now..." He chuckles, forcing a
smile, still abit unnerved. He looks back at the woman, quietly
apologizing to her, all the while, the stray thought .o0("...pay no
attention to the man behind the curtain...") entering his mind...

Tophat tucks his tumbs under his lapel, smiling voraciously. "Why, he's
our 'Devilish Haunted Man'..." He tips his top hat towards a placard
showing the playbill for the human oddities attractions. He reads without
looking at the writing under the eerie painted image of Ineo. "A mortal
gifted with powers of perception into the great beyond! No mere fortune
teller, you can /see/ his ghostly guests and friends!"

Ineo just keeps staring at you.

Henry Johnson nods to Tophat, smiling with what he hopes looks like a
genuine smile. ...o0(Psionic pictures? Must be.../showing/ the dead? Sure.
buddy...now the Holograms make sense...probably have a few psions under
their belt...well...business is business). He chuckles. "Well, personally,
I prefer to have the dead stay underground, but to each their own..."

Tophat winks. "Well you should, my friend. Well you should." There's a
glimmer in Tophat's eye for a second as he says this...warning? Amusement?
A secret smile passes over his lips, and he returns to his addressing of
the crowd. "Now; who here would like a special week long pass to the show
Mssrs Moses and Milton have prepared...not all at once..." Hands shoot up.
A kid starts hopping up and down, waving his hand.

Henry Johnson chuckles, and looks at the child, then back at Tophat, "It
seems our little friend has a question for you." He smiles, again.
...o0(Don't like his tone...why does he bother me? He's just a PR
guy...nothing bad...so why do I dislike his look?)

Tophat grins, and points at the boy. "You, sir. Speak up."

The kid smiles, showing a gap in his teeth. "Thay, mithter! I wanna be a
thspethial guetht! Can I? Pleathe?"

Henry Johnson is almost tempted to raise his hand for a free pass...and
then realizes...he should shrug off his ill feelings. H raises his hand as
well, smiling, to recieve a 'special pass'.

Tophat beams. "And you sir, you as well? Most gratifying. And you, madame!
Excellent." He motions to a middle aged housewife who's hand is raised.

With a tap of his hand on the top of the music box, Tophat stops cranking
the organ grinder. The music stops, and the box starts to shudder a
little. With a sudden *pop* it's top unfolds, showing the insides of the
music box...

Henry Johnson begins to walk foreward, stopping as he sees the box open
up. ...o0(What in blazes?)

There's a platform where the box was. No mechanism. No device to make the
noise. Just a flat surface, with three boxes sitting on it; one red, one
green, one yellow. "Now, my little friend" Tophat chirps to the kid. "Pick
a box." He grins.

Henry Johnson narrows his eyes just a bit as he
watches...o0(Ooooookay...strange...either this guy is a /very/ good
magician, or we're in the presense of a decent psion here...pale-boy, or
tophat?)

Henry Johnson continues foreward...a bit wary now...

The kid picks up the red box. "Pretty!" It opens in his hands, and there's
a little ice cream cone in minature...plastic, maybe...it speaks in a
funny voice. "Billy Nickles! Come to the Carnival! You're a special
guest!" Billy stares, unbelieving. There's some gasps from the crowd.

Tophat now motions to you. "And you, sir. Take your box; green or yellow?
Which shall it be?"

Henry Johnson hrms, steeping up to the podium, thoughts racing. He looks,
and points to the green box. "I'll go for that one..." ...o0(Okay, calm
down, John...)

The box opens, and a little white rabbit sits in the palm of your hand.
Smiling cutely up at you, it chirps in tinny tones: "Come to the carnival,
Henry Johnson! Be our special guest! Please!"

Henry Johnson freezes up momentarily, looking at Tophat now, eyes
narrowing. His voice goes down, lace with anger. "Not funny...after this,
you and I are having a chat, sir...."

Tophat smiles blankly. "Sorry if I offended...but the invitations choose
you, really. Not my doing." He motions to the housewife. "Now, madame..."

Henry Johnson nods at Tophat, obviously not happy...he backs off the
platform, watching...

With a somewhat tremulous smile, the woman reaches for the yellow box. She
picks it up, and it opens in her hand. You can't see the image in her
palm, but hear the voice. "Gladys Doogan, come to our carnival! It'll be
fun! I promise!" She goes pale , and drops it. "I...yes. I'll come." She
says, smiling weakly. Its an odd smile.

Ineo stoops, and picks up her box. He shoves it back in her hand, and she
seems to be happy to accept it now. Her husband tries to look at her
invitation box, but she tucks it away in her purse, and adusts a lock of
her hair.

Henry Johnson notes he still has the invitation in his hand. ...o0(Gotta
have StarLabs check this out...this doesn't...seem right) He looks on, and
begins to walk away, quickly, hoping not to jostle people...

Henry Johnson notes the woman's reaction. ...o0(Okay...I don't know what
this is...but this in /not/ kosher...but way beyond me...)

Tophat bows. "Sorry folks, thats all for now. I do hope your taste for the
curious and the amazing have been tempted by our little display. Now,
Ineo...we must be off." With a few claps from the audience, the man steps
off, and starts helping his mute companion with the disasemblage of the
displays.

Henry Johnson gets to the edge of the crowd, and stands there, watching
Ineo and Tophat, now quite curious...

Tophat speaks momentarily with Ineo, who nods. As if on cue, a delivery
van with the 'Moses and Milton' logo pulls up on a park inroad. They start
piling the placards into the back of the van.

Henry Johnson steps back even more, attempting to make himself unseen.
...o0(Don't like these boys...something is definitely not cool here...)

At that very moment, you notice something glinting in the moonlight. On
the back of Ineo's neck. What /is/ it? Its not jewlery...

The old crone at the wheel of the van nods to the smiling Tophat as he
hops up into the cab next to her. The engine revs, and Ineo lumbers into
the back of the van with its cargo.

Henry Johnson strains his eyes, desparately seeking to see whatever it was
on the back of Ineo's neck...

Henry Johnson then looks around, mumbling..."Okay...may need Steel hereI
can't lose them."

With a rumble, and a brief jerking motion, the van starts to drive off.
Whatever it was that you saw, it wasn't natural.

Henry Johnson checking to see if anyone is looking, Henry changes quickly
into Steel...

There is a suddenly a strange rippling effect that surrounds Henry
Johnson's body, as he slowly fades from existance, quickly being replaced
by a man in steel armor.

The van starts to enter nighttime traffic, slowing and speeding up
alternately as it moves through the streets.

Steel taks off into the air, several feet above the van, following
it...currently just curious about it's destination...

The van takes a sidestreet off of the main throughfare after a few
minutes, its occupants apparently heedless of your pursuit. A few
bystanders pause to take notice of the dark shiny image floating in the
sky beyond, however. Still, the van drives on, its pace steady.

Steel continues to follow the van, aware of the people's stares, but also
unwilling to lose sight of it...wishing to see its final destination. He
continues onward, in no way appearing combative...just curious. To the
onlookers, it may simply appear that they have an escort.

The van pulls up near a backalleyway, where there's some storage buildings
arrayed.

Steel dips down lower, still keeping his eyes on the van.
...o0(Strange...where are they going?)

As the doors open on the van...it vanishes.

A hollow laugh rings in your ears as you float above where it /had/ to
have been a second before. The shadow, the trace of exhaust, the
oil...gone. Nothing. Not a trace.

Steel blinks...twice...then blinks again. Rubbing his eyes, or at least
the reasonable fascimilies on his helmet, he frowns. "Not good...not good
at all..." He looks again at the invitation in his hand. He stops as he
hears the laughter. "Not good at /all/..."

<later still>

An oppressive silence fills the room, broken only by the soft breathing of
the girl sleeping on the couch. The windows are shut against the cold, and
everything is completely motionless, like a tomb. There isn't even a clock
to make it seem human - the apartment's occupants have welcomed the
digital age with open arms.
	Without warning, the girl's breathing changes, becoming
accelerated and short. She tenses, a look of fear twisting her erstwhile
peaceful features - then with a cry, she sits up, knuckles white against
the dark green of the upholstery. Seeing where she is, she tries to calm
herself, and sits back on the couch.

There's just her room. Its quiet. A little cold. A window's curtains
flutter from a brief breeze.

Gina sighs, and shivers slightly. "Goddammit," she whispers to herself. .
o O (My god. I hope he's okay. I really, really hope he's okay. But it was
just a dream. He should be fine.) She bites her lip, then absently goes
over to shut the window.

...which is already shut. She looks blankly at it. . o O (I could've
/sworn/ the curtains were moving...)

The glass shows your reflection as you regard it. The latch is still
locked. But...you can definitely feel an occaisonal night city breeze
coming through it. Impossible. The curtains gently rustle.

Frowning, the girl places her hands on the sill and carefully runs her
hands across the bottom, sides, and top of the window - where a crack
might cause a draft. Finding nothing, she steps back, and looks around for
the breeze's source: a vent or another open window, or maybe even a fan
going in the other room...but that one'd be a stretch, because she'd have
heard it.

The sky...changes color.

Its green now.

The city lights begin to fade. Shadows of buildings and the skyscrapers of
Metropolis begin to fade. It all becomes a bit misty and indistinct.

Gina steps back, not sure what to make of that. . o O (How do I know when
to stop mowing my lawn?)

Gina's eyes widen. She finds her voice midsentence, "...the hell..?"

There's an indescribable greenish vapor hanging outside of the window. The
breeze grows a little warm. The city, as far as you can tell, is gone. The
desk in one corner of the room begins to tilt as the floor slowly angles,
like the deck of a rickety boat on an uneven ocean.

Crying out in surprise, Gina scrambles to a corner. "Gotta still be
dreaming," she says to herself, but sounds unconvinced. This is way real.

The room seems to be flying now, at around forty miles per hour.
Accelerating maybe. You feel yourself rise and turn, and swivel in the
green limbo your vessel...the room...is trapped in.

Making herself as small as possible, Gina sits in her corner, shutting her
eyes. . o O (This isn't happening. Can't be. I'll wake up in a couple
seconds. God, what a night for horrid dreams! I just hope...no, I won't
even think about it.) Despite her resolve, the image creeps into her head
of her waking up and looking at the morning news, and finding the headline
touting the death of Superboy, and showing pictures of his mangled corpse.
Or worse yet, opening the door to go out, and finding him there -
collapsed on the floor, having tried to get in, mortally wounded - while
she was sleeping. Of course they're unreasonable...well, the second one,
at least...he'd go to the hospital first. But the fear is still there. She
quickly opens her eyes, . o O (I'd rather face what this dream throws at
me than...than...that.)

Brainiac steps through the wall. It bends and gives around him like a
surface of thick chewing gum, then recongeals behind him. He smiles a
horrible smile down at you.

Brainiac speaks, his thin lips moving over his bared white teeth, his
voice almost a whisper. "Superboy?" He arches a thin black eyebrow, a
faint wrinkle in his metal-clasped forehead. "Superboy. How utterly
perfect."

Gina peers up at you. . o O (Ahh, choices. I /could/ be melodramatic and
cower in fear, which is probably what he'd like, or I could just face him,
which probably would disappoint and annoy him, or I /could/ tell him
exactly what he looks like, which - hey!) "You don't look like you feel
too well. Maybe you should see a doctor. You're distinctly peaked - just
don't barf in /here/."

Brainiac laughs, loudly. The sound echoes wierdly in your room-prison.
"Hahahaha!" He stops laughing suddenly, and waves his hand. You float
suddenly into the air, lifted by unseen hands. "Disappoint and annoy me?
You pathetic little human fool...it matters not to Brainiac."

Gina's face clears, but inside, she tries to clamp down on her thoughts.
She retains her indian-style position, thinking, . o O (Might as well.)
"Ah," she replies, nodding as if she understood what he meant by that.
"That explains /everything/."

Brainiac smiles, squinting ever so slightly. "Might as well." He says, his
mocking tone as grating as his voice. He glances around. "So; this
Superboy is a friend of yours. Or you pretend such. Such sad devotion.
How...typical. Always seeking heroes to worship. Hopes to cling to. Even
when you know there is no such hero, and no such hope coming." He waves
his hand. The wall disintegrates. You're not in your room anymore.

The control room of the headship is all alien steel and angles and devices
and displays. Glowing monitors and switches, relays, and the shadows of
machines lurking in the pale glow of the main viewport.

Gina nods, agreeing wholeheartedly. "'Course. Don't you know I've already
psychoanalyzed myself? Am constantly evaluating my psyche? I'm such a
little hoser, it's not even funny. Betcha Superboy laughs at how pathetic
I am, each time he goes out. There's probably a sneering heroes club
somewhere in the city, where all the folks that the populace admires
chill, get drunk, and mock their adoring fans." She grins. "I know I'm
stupid. I know my existance is useless. Hell, I even know half the people
I mooch off of would like to see me dead sometimes. But I don't care...I
might as well. If I didn't, I'd be bored, I think." She looks around and
comments, "Nice setup."

An image on another large screen hovers nearby; Its Superboy and
Supergirl, smiling as they stand next to the towering form of the Man of
Steel himself. Its an image you may recognize from a past news story.
Brainiac glares at it momentarily, as if reminding himself of something.
He paces across the room, cape trailing at his heels. He motions to a
corner of the room. Lights turn on, and show a group of men and women in
carnival outfits. You recognize the big form of Ineo, the crooked old
woman who was driving, and some of the sideshow people depicted in the
Moses and Milton Carnival placards around town.

Gina leans back on her hands. "Mmn. This is your stuff, then, I guess?
Explains a lot."

Brainiac turns around. He's Tophat now, smiling fattish Tophat, the
salesman and spokesperson for the carnival. The voice is the same. "My
'stuff' indeed. I've been working on my Carnival for some time. Gathering
my staff. My sideshow attractions. Biding my time. Preparing."

Brainiac takes of his illusionary hat, and motions to you with it. "Now,
Gina Dare; I must decide what role you will play in my carnival."

Gina nods, then grins. "So you're one of those 'master plan' people, huh?
I had a friend like that once...none of his ideas ever panned out,
though." She raises an eyebrow. "Me? Probably that of 'spectator'. I
coulsn't possibly hold anyone's attention, I'm far too boring."

Brainiac sneers ironically. "Ha. Well, that is the amazing thing about
this; the wonderous stupid human race is always fascinated by another
member of the race when they are somehow different. Somehow twisted.
Malformed. Inhuman. The 'other'. Years of your earthly distractions have
shown me this, time and again. There are many infirmaties and differences
that fascinate humankind. Weaknesses they delight in seeing in others.
Most of them, alas, are only visible to those like me; those with sight
beyond normal limited seeing."

Brainiac snaps his fingers. "But now: I can show those 'freaks' to the
world as well." A leering grin plasters itself on the jovial Tophat face.

Gina ahs. "Spiff."

Brainiac looks at you meaningfully. "Now..." Brainiac's face returns to
its normal shape. "What sideshow attraction will you be...how can I twist
you against this oaf Superboy..."

It appears that once she'd realized all of this was being manipulated into
existance by another mind, especially an arrogant one, she's no longer
impressed. "Aww," she says in mock disappointment, "You mean I don't get
to watch?"

You say "To Watch? My dear young weak fool...you will be one of the main
attractions!"

A machine with several arms suddenly grabs onto your shoulders, and drags
you into the receding darkness of the headship's laboratories. Brainiac's
laughter rings out in your ears as everything begins to fade to black...

Gina sighs, "Damn....*

<again with the laterness!>

Superboy wanders into the area, oblivious of the stares that the onlookers
toss in his direction. Occasionally signing autographs for his
(attractive) (young) (female) fans, his lopsided grin and wide-eyed stare
are evidence of his curious fascination with the carnival.

Linda Lee walks up from the subway, taking a moment to examine her
surroundings before she heads for the entrance to the carnival. Without
her uniform on, she's not very recognizable really unless you really know
her well.

	*OOm-pa-pa* *OOm-pa-pa*
	Organ music; chipper, gay, and frothy sounding. Upbeat and quaint
in its old timiness. Only...something about the tune the organ is playing
isn't quite right.
	Crimson banners waver in the strangely warm night sky of
Metropolis, with the words "Moses and Milton Mystery Carnival And
Exhibition Of The Unusual" emblazoned on them in bright yellow letters. A
few spotlights have been set up at the outskirts of the ten or so striped
red and yellow tents on the carnival grounds, and there's a large arch
marking the main entrance. Placards and signs of every kind litter the
area leading up to the lines at the two ticket booths. Balloons are
everywhere, and the smell of popcorn and cotton candy waft through the
air. Children, adults, the elderly...a crossection of Metropolis's
citizenry have lined up to be the first to enter the carnival.

Brainiac
	Malevolant. Sneering. Arrogant beyond measure. This lean and
tallish figure gives off a lot of sensations, most of them bad. One of the
more striking sensations however, is his skin color. Its a vibrant
greenish tone, almost glowing in its raw intensity. In spite of the
unearthly greeness, however, his appearance is definately human. Or,
perhaps more accurately, humanish. He has a compactly muscled frame, with
long limbs, and a thin waist. He's clad in a set of black tights, which
extend to his wrists and over his feet. A set of steely wristbands cover
most of his forearms, and a similarly shiny metal belt is clasped around
his midsection. Hanging loosely around his shoulders is a deep purple
cloak, with a high fanned out collar that sticks up out from his neck and
around the lower half of his head.
	His face is cleanly delinated, almost carven from his green
tissue; a large bald pate, slightly hooked nose, and a thin and barely
parted mouth. His thick eyebrows slant upwards in a most satanic fashion
over his deep set jade colored eyes.In marked contrast to his green shaded
skin, he has a yellow blonde goatee, with a slightly curling mustache
groomed under his slanted nose. Also notable are the series of metallic
studs marking his brow and skullcap, each one relatively small, with red
centers. They are cojoined by a series of flat narrow bars that encircle
the upper section of his head like some sort of brace.
	His gait is that of a person used to center stage. His gestures
loose and graceful, his stance like that of a statesman or performer. And,
above all, the look in his eyes darkly intriguing, compelling in their
audacious pride and evil cast.

The unsettling tune of the organ music doesn't register with the Kid -
indeed, the music he listens to has probably rotted his aesthetic sense so
deeply that he wouldn't recognize any error in the sound even if he
concentrated. As he walks through the entrance of the carnival, he rubs
the back of his neck and gazes around him in wonderment.

The signs in the area point out to the assortment of attractions being
offered at the assortment of tents. The first hundred or so visitors race
inside, many of them voracious in their eagerness to see the sights,
experience the thrills...

Linda Lee does notice the disturbing music, though she tries not to
concentrate on it as it only helps her verify her suspicions. She smirks
for a moment as she sees Superboy, though it fades as she realizes the
possible danger he's now in by coming here. She considers warning him for
a moment, before she reminds herself that she doesn't want to be
conspicuous. o O ( Besides, he can take care of himself pretty well. . if
anything goes wrong I can always intervene. )

	Signs Read: "The Hall of Holograms! A Hall of Mirrors composed of
secret 3-D Technology!" "The Rocketsled! A ride into the next millenium!"
"The Devilish Haunted Man! Master of the ghostly plane!" "Miss Nedry,
Beasttamer! Facing a tank full of tarantulas and Gargutan, the giant
shark!" as she faces the Great White Shark 'Gargutan' in his very tank!"
"The Human Puppet in the Theatre Of The Arcane! An unparalleled mime and
entertainer!"

Assorted clowns and entertainers in bright costume wander the carnival, as
do vendors with a variety of sweet and tempting snacks in their wheeled
carts. There's a lot of smiling faces around here.

Amidst the crowd of people, Superboy looks up and finds the sublime in the
absurd. If this were a movie, the camera would begin with a close-up of
the Kid's face and pan back, over and above the heads of all those in the
area, swinging around to focus on two signs. "The Devilish Haunted Man,"
Superboy mutters, "and the Human Puppet in the Theatre of the Arcance ...
beautiful. Brilliant."

Suddenly, there's a blast of sound and light from behind some of the
tents...a green and yellow vehicle straight out of an old Flash Gordon
comic strip races out from the carnival grounds and into the air. In the
clear bubble canopy sit a dozen screaming thrillseekers, arms raised like
any good roller-coaster buff would. It suddenly disappears in a flash of
bluish light.

Weaving through the crowd, Linda Lee tries to randomly pick an attraction
to experience in her attempt to find something wrong with this 'carnival'.
She looks curiously at the Hall of Mirrors and heads in that general
direction.

Some of the bystanders point up, emitting 'Oohs' and 'Ahhs'. There's
another flash of blue, and the Rocketsled reappears at its landing dock, a
bewildered looking load of passengers stepping out onto the ride-gangplank
from the now open canopy. None of them look like they're harmed or in
shock, but they do look like they've all experienced something not of this
Earth.

A ticket taker stands outside of the Hall of Mirrors; its a dwarf, clad in
a bowler hat and a loose fitting white suit. He tips his hat to Linda as
she approaches, and extends a hand. "Tickets, please." There's some
laughter and screams from inside of the deceptively calm looking tent.

Superboy's attention is caught. However, he's spoiled by technology - to
him it's all a trick of the computers and mirrors, an illusion based on
the refraction of light. It's a damn neat one, though, and he expresses
his view. "Brilliant," he mutters, breathlessly.

A skinny clown on stilts laughs cartoonishly as he ambles past Superboy,
briefly feigning losing his balance, then wandering on.

Linda Lee blinks, suddenly realizing she has no tickets. "Oh, I'm sorry .
. where do you buy tickets?" She inquires of the dwarf, trying to look as
innocent as possible.

The dwarf smiles in a friendly fashion, indicating the long lines by the
front ticket booth. "Just over there." There's a growl, a scream, and a
round of hearty chuckles from within the tent behind him.

Superboy makes up his mind. "The Devilish Haunted Man," he says softly,
beneath his breath, as he slides towards that tent.

The tent to see 'Ineo, The Devillish Haunted Man' has a large line in
front of it. The tickettaker there is a woman clad in black robes, her
face hidden by the shadows of her hood.

Linda Lee nods to the dwarf, before turning her head to look at the
disappointingly long lines in front of the ticket booth. For a moment she
considers just turning invisible, but decides to do what's right and pay
instead. She heads for the back of the line to wait.

Superboy steps to the back of the line. He crosses his arms there, content
to wait. When he realizes how slowly the line is travelling, however, he
frowns and steps out of it. He glances around, a thought crossing his
mind. He slinks towards the edge of the tent, sliding alongside the fabric
until he reaches the front of the ticket line. He attempts to slip in,
making a show of being invisible.

Superboy isn't really invisible, of course. It's a figure of speech.

The hooded woman says "Enter, Superboy; free of charge." There's a smiling
edge to her voice, and its slightly unnerving.

Linda Lee purchases her tickets after finally reaching the front and heads
towards the Hall of Mirrors again to present her new ticket to the dwarf.

Superboy pauses at the woman's words. He glances back at the line, winking
to children still stuck in line. "Suckers," he mutters softly, entering
the tent. "I love being a media icon."

The dwarf tears the ticket, and tips his bowler again, stepping aside for
Linda. He holds open a flap for her to pass through into the tent.

Stepping through the opening the dwarf makes for her, Linda Lee prepares
herself for the possible horrors she expects to be waiting inside to
ambush her. .

As Superboy walks into the tent, he suddenly notices a drop in temperature
and light. There's a bluish glow to the inside of the tent, and he can see
a circle of benches arrayed around a central stage. On the stage sits a
huge figure of a man, cloaked similarly to the female tickettaker outside.
The crowd is getting settled as the Kid notices a few spare seats in the
front row.

As Linda makes her way into the shadows of the tent entrance, she suddenly
notices herself...standing in front of her. Only...its Supergirl, standing
there...and she's twenty or thirty feet tall. The giant mirror image
matches Linda's movements and expression, but on the face of the Girl of
Steel. There's no other carnival visitors nearby right now, luckily. To
her left, she sees a further rows of mirrors, like a maze of glass. Surely
all of this couldn't fit into that one tent?

( This is so easy, ) the Kid of Metal Alloy thinks to himself as he takes
a seat. He stretches out his legs, glancing to either side of him.
"Paranoia'll get you far in life, kid," he says softly to himself.

Raising an eyebrow, Linda quickly moves onto another mirror before someone
notices or walks by. o O ( I hope no one noticed that . . How in the world
did that happen? )

Ineo stands finally, and a gong bangs in the background somewhere.
"Citizens of Metropolis! Guests of Mr. Moses and Mr. Milton!" a voice
announces. "See now...the master of the ghostly worlds, Ineo!" There's a
suddenly deadening of light. Then, there's a sound like a low moan. It
moves from the back of the tent to the back of the audience, and then, in
a circle, towards the stage. A shimmering phantasm of purplish light ebbs
around, its humanoid face regarding the staring, gasping, horrified,
amazed crowd. The ghost shimmers into Ineo's chest, and disappates. The
blue glow resumes. Ineo smiles.

The next mirror shows Linda standing in a rainforest, in her current
guise. There's an assortment of rustlings in the leaves around her.
There's also a distinictly authentic temperate zone humidity and floral
scent in the air.

Superboy swings his head around, fingers jerking the sunglasses from his
nose so as to get a better view. "Wicked," he says softly, "like a buncha
Disney renegades went off an formed their own carnival ... "

Linda Lee takes a moment to examine her current mirror, . o O ( I wonder
if any of this is even real technology. ) She tries to discreetly look for
any indication of how the mirror might work.

Ineo's mouth opens, his skull-like features made all the more sinister by
the lighting. "Ineo calls...and I obey." The same voice that announced
Ineo speaks again, asking "Spirit...what is your name...who are you?" The
crowd mutters amongst themselves. Husbands, mothers, brothers, cousins
comforting their friends and relatives. Confirming that is all just an
act.

As Linda looks closer at the mirror, she notes a snake in the mirror image
is looping down from a tree limb behind her...

Superboy's knees begin bobbing, his eyes squinted as if to see the hidden
strings of this bizarre marionette.

Ineo says "I am the spirit of a friend to this boy..." A gaunt finger
points out. The pale-faced boy to the Kid's left? No. The old woman to his
left? Thats right out. No, the finger's pointing at Superboy. "I was a
friend to him in my life."

Linda Lee quickly considers her options and moves onto the next mirror
before the snake proves that this is more than just an illusion.

Superboy pauses at this. Superboy's face freezes in an awed grin, his eyes
suddenly flaring with doubt. Somewhere in his mind his instincts kick in.
Somewhere, whatever it is in his brain that generates suspicious hunches
is acting up. "I've a number of friends," Superboy says, calmly and
coldly. .oO( This, ) he thinks, ( is weird. )

Something brushes against Linda's hair for a second after she turns away
from the mirror. There's nothing there. The next mirrors are somewhat less
troubling; images of herself walking through a field of stars.

Ineo speaks "Your friend, before I was lost. Before your arrogance and
inattention destroyed me. Before I faced your doom."

The announcer's voice asks "Who do you think it is, Superboy?" All eyes on
the Kid now, some of them wondering if he's in on this. Publicity stunt"

"Publicity stunt" someone mutters.

Superboy squints an eye and sets his jaw. His muscles tense as he crosses
his legs, attempting a casual pose. "F*ck off," he says in a controlled
anger. "I'm gonna guess it's a really bad joke, Jack," he says to no-one
in particular as he rises to a stand.

The crowd recoils at the Teen Idol's foul language. Some of them say
"Can't take th' heat, Superkid?" "Boy; he's just another rude young
punk..."

Ineo laughs.

Ineo says "You know who I am, then. You see it, Superboy. See your
destiny. See the Human Puppet." Another sinister laugh, then Ineo's face
goes slack.

Finding nothing else unusual, Linda returns to the jungle rainforest
mirror, trying to discover proof of something dangerous at this carnival.

The purple vapor seems to disappate into the air suddenly, leaving Ineo's
eye sockets in a flash. The crowd gasps. An old woman faints.

The rainforest mirror is also a field of stars. Nothing terribly
interesting here...no...wait...there's a star thats moving around 'behind'
Linda. Its getting closer, more distinct. Its...an orb of some sort.

Superboy stands silent, oblivious to the crowd's taunts. "You're going to
tell me I'm the Human Puppet?" he asks, softly. "Fine. You got all the
answers, _you_ tell me my destiny ... " his voice trails off as the "show"
comes to an end.

The lights kick in, illuminating a simple straw matted floor and a simple
wooden stage in the middle of a simple tent. The gong sounds, and Ineo
resumes his seated position, face expressionless. The announcer remains
unseen, but says "Thats all folks...next show is in ten minutes. Stay, if
you dare."

Linda Lee reaches her arms at where she thinks the orb is by the
reflection in the mirror, which actually looks painful considering the
position she's standing in, though there's no sign of any pain obvious on
her expression. o O ( That star . . it's moving? What this time . . . I
better stand ready just in case. )

The orb grows more distinct; its metallic...and huge. Immense. Its a small
moon. No a planet. A world.

	Warworld.

Superboy places both hands on his hips, shifting his weight to his
opposite foot. "Fine," he mutters softly, tilting his head to one side.
His eyes remain squinted, a slight sneer on his lips. "I'll stay. I'll pay
attention to the man behind the curtain."

The woman in the robe appears at Superboy's elbow. She hands him a ticket.
"Superboy; you have a special seat waiting at the Theatre of the Arcane."
There's that unseen smile again as she passes over the ticket.

The Human Puppet:
	Ever seen Pinocchio? You remember the marionettes? Dolls in bright
clothing with painted wooden faces and wide-open, bright blue eyes? Dolls
tied to strings, which the puppet masters pull, and make the dolls dance.
Well, what you see in front of you appears to be just that, only...she's
human?
	Shiny brown hair braided in long plaits spills over her shoulders,
tied with red silk bows. She wears a bright red dress with a fluffy skirt,
black velvet Peter Pan collar, black velvet belt, and smart black buttons
all the way down the front. It fits tightly around her form, and its color
brings attention to her - red always seems to have that affect, and this
is no exception. Black Mary Janes and white socks cover her feet, and her
hands are quite daintily covered in white gloves which end where the
strings are attached to her wrists.
	The strings are attached to her feet, wrists, waist and head, and
it looks like she somehow has the joints of a wooden doll - utterly
flexible and not of much use at all, if she wanted to break free on her
own. A look of terror and helplessness shines from her hazel eyes, above a
cheerful smile and reddened cheeks.

Superboy takes the ticket from the woman, holding it in his gloved hand.
He passes his eyes over her face, or lack thereof, pupils focusing on what
is not there. "The Theatre of the Arcane," he says, slowly. "And what
wonderments will be witnessed?" he exclaims, mimicing carnival brochures.
"More mysteries to mesmerize? Or will there be some sort of ringleader to
show me the error of my ways?" His voice doesn't sound normal - it's
obvious that he's been disturbed by the recent events.

The robed woman smiles invisibly, then steps back out of the tent.

Linda Lee almost instinctively switches into Supergirl as she sees
Warworld, taking a step back from the mirror, which actually takes her
closer to Warworld since the mirror is a backwards reflection. Managing to
stop herself, she goes through her mind . o O ( It's just an illusion, get
a hold of yourself. . this is some kind've twisted hall of mirrors . . .
but how could anyway know about Warworld unless it was reading my mind or
. . ) Her thought just stops there as she realizes the only two possible
options.

"I'm not amused," Superboy says to noone as he exits the tent, slipping on
his sunglasses as he enters the light.

The Hall of Mirrors suddenly fades around Supergirl, swirling away like a
roiling mass of liquid color down an unseen drain. Sinister laughter rings
in her ears as she begins to see the walls of Warworld rising around
her...

Superboy makes his way to the Theatre of the Arcane, slipping both hands
into his pockets. This time, he doesn't even bother glancing o see if
there's a line. This time, he walks right in, like he's facing his
destiny.

Linda Lee quickly looks around herself and yells out rather rashly, "Where
are you!" Half expecting a villainous reply, though she doesn't shift into
Supergirl . . just yet. Trying to remember her time spent in Warworld, she
runs for the room where the one person is who could possibly be the cause
of all this.

As Linda runs through the corridors, the main control room grows nearer.
The laughter more distinct. Then, she sees a crowd of Warworld alien
warriors, staring at her with disjointed faces and uneven eyes. They look
more shocked than angry.

The Theatre of the Arcane is a good deal like Ineo's tent, on the inside.
Same setup, with the chairs in rows facing the 'front' - only, a curtain
covers the stage. An upright piano is also off to the side, but there's no
one sitting at it - you realize it's a player piano. As Superboy walks in
and the other carnivalgoers take their seats, the back tent flap is closed
and the same eerie announcer's voice begins to speak. "Witness the Human
Puppet," it says. "Mime and entertainer extrordinaire - see her dance to
your tunes!"

Superboy steps to the side of the tent, corssing his hands behind his
back. "So then it's not me," he softly says, entertaining his own fears.
He grows quiet, sliding his sunglasses into a jacket pocket as he watches.

Linda Lee tries to ignore the Warworld aliens, concentrating on reaching
the control room, almost certain that the answer lies there. She tries to
increase her running speed, to reach it faster, bordering on superhuman
speed now.

A Warworld alien is jostled aside as Linda runs past the crowd. It begins
crying...like a child. The control room door opens and Linda races...out
of the tent and into the carnival grounds again. The organ music echoes
strangely in her ears as she realizes she's just run through the Hall of
Mirrors.

The dwarf tips his hat to Linda, smiling. "Care to go in again, miss?" he
asks, congenially.

The curtain is drawn aside when the last person takes his seat, revealing
the 'entertainer' inside. You see what looks to be a life-sized
marionette, which, upon closer inspection, is alive! The player piano
starts up, starting with a lively ragtime tune, which the human marionette
dances to brightly, swishing her shirt as she goes. The announcer says
over the music, "After the initial performance, we'll take requests..."

In shock as she emerges, Linda looks around as it dawns on her what just
happenned. She mentally scolds herself and listens for a moment if a real
child is crying inside, which she might've accidentily knocked over. o O (
What a mess, I'm lucky I didn't change . . something definately isn't
right. )

The child is indeed real; his mother carries him out, looking at Linda
with a wicked frown. "Well!" she exclaims. She takes her kid off from the
tent, and to a ice cream stand.

Linda Lee looks at the dwarf a moment and manages a smile that almost
looks sincere, she's certainly had enough practice, "No, thank you. But it
was really interesting." She states honestly. She starts to try to tell
the mother that she's sorry . . but unfortunately she misses the
opportunity.

The dwarf smiles. "Care to see the Theatre of the Arcane?" He produces a
ticket to that attraction.

The crowd oohs and aahs as the girl on the stage dances, wincing as she
missteps and her joint seems to bend the wrong way, then shrugging it off
to double-jointedness or something. The piano switches to a slow, sad
ballet, and her dancing slows accordingly - it's so real; as you watch,
you could almost imagine she really /was/ a marionette, the strings move
her so.

Superboy sees something familiar in the figure on the stage. He's unsure
at first - the form is recognizable, as are the features. But who would he
know that would partake in such an extravagent set-up? He doesn't have
many close friends .. at least, very few that don't live across the ocean.
Not Bart, certainly. Who would have ... been ... oh. God - he suddenly
realizes who it is. His knees give slightly, and for the moment he loses
his breath.

Linda Lee smiles at the dwarf again as he offers a ticket, . o O ( Well, I
guess that's going to be my next stop. ) "Oh, thank you." She says in
reply as she takes the ticket.

There's some smattering of applause from the audience. Most seem to be
most pleased with the Human Puppet's performance. Another clap comes from
somewhere offstage, and a figure gradually appears. Its a portly
gentleman, clad in a black suit and a stovepipe hat. He has a bemused
expression as he applauds the dancing figure. "Well, folks! What do you
think? Isn't she something? Now; lets show the folks just what sort of a
performer you are, darling....any requests?" Tophat looks out into the
audience, regarding the suddenly raised hands and eager faces.

"GINA!!!!" Superboy suddenly screams, at the top of his lungs. His left
hand grasps onto a fold in the tent's fabric, hisright reaches forward in
an impotent gesture. He remains frozen for a moment, his voice left
hanging in the air and his eyes open and frightened.

Tophat quirks up his mouth, and rubs his brow. "Can't say I know that one,
son. Anyone else have a request?" He smiles and regards the audience.

Gina sinks to the floor, waiting for the next song, as a puppet would when
its strings are put down, but her eyes are visible on the way - she looks
at Superboy, quite plainly, eyes full near the end of sanity with terror
and helplessness.

Examining the ticket in her hand, Linda walks towards the Theatre of the
Arcane, expecting some other kind of horror and embarassment to await her.
o O ( Maybe I'll get lucky and it'll just be some kind've sideshow. )

"No," Superboy says, rising into the air as if subconsciously. He rips his
left glove off with his free hand, and then does the same to his right.
"Oh, no. No," he repeats. His voice trembles, his movements are shakey and
his jaw quakes. "No," he says again, dashing down towards the stage from
the air, oblivious to bystanders. "No. No," he continues.

"Sweet Georgie Brown!" an old codger shouts.

Tophat snaps his fingers, pointing to the Human Puppet with a wink and a
smile. The piano starts playing 'Sweet Georgia Brown'.

Rising to her feet, pulled along by the strings, Gina begins to dance
again to the tinny sound of the player piano. With that grin so cheerful
in the back row, so frightening in the front, she even starts to clap her
hands in time to the music, then mimes spinning a basketball on her
finger, and making a basket.

Tophat looks with a curious smile at Superboy as he advances on the stage.
The audience doesn't seem to notice. "Something the matter, son?"

Superboy slowly settles onto the stage, the tip of his right foot touching
down even as his left foot steps forward. He makes a smooth transition
into a quick walk, stepping next to Gina. He can't quite bring himself to
look at her - so he turns his attention to Tophat. "Stop," he says,
simply.

Tophat shrugs confusedly. "Stop...stop what? The show? The show must go
on, my fine young friend!" He smiles toothily. "The show's the thing in
which we'll capture the conscience of the king!" The audience applauds
senselessly now.

Linda Lee pushes the flap to the tent aside after handing whoever's at the
door her ticket, peering inside for a moment before she actually enters.

As the song ends, Gina stops the dance and the act, not sinking this time,
but only motionless, paused, suspended by the strings until the next song
starts.

"Let her go," Superboy says. His voice is calm now, focused anger. A
fragment of a hint of what he will someday become. However, he's not there
yet, as evidenced by his next words. "You want me? F*ckin' take me. Let
her go. Now."

Linda Lee narrows her eyes at the scene and stays in a back a moment,
closing the flap of the tent. Slowly her clothing changes and shifts, and
she's instantly recognizable as Metropolis' Girl of Steel . . Supergirl.

Tophat gestures grandly to the Human Puppet. "Let her go? From what?
Herself?" He smiles broadly. A voice from the excited exacerbated audience
shouts "Daisy!" The piano starts playing "Daisy".

Superboy turns back towards Gina. He reaches out slowly, attempting to
pull her away from the invisible source of her slavery.

The laughter and applause of the audience is deafening now. You suddenly
realize that the entire crowd of carnival-goers and carnival staffers are
surrounding the theatre, cheering and laughing. Easily three hundred
people.

Tophat's eyes alight on the caped figure of the Maid of Might in the back
rows of the crowd. He smiles winningly, and makes a clutching gesture with
his fist. A flash of greenish energy wraps itself around Superboy's
reaching hand, and drags it with terrific TK force towards the stagefloor.
"No no no...I can't have visitors touching our performers!"

Supergirl scans through the crowd, trying to look for -him-. The only
person who could be responsible for this, the only one who was evil enough
to enslave Warworld and attack Earth, the only person she knows of capable
of doing this.

The girl immediately reacts to the song, placing her hands behind her back
and raising her face upward, as if appealing to some cupid floating on a
cloud somewhere. She acts the entire song out, wordlessly, picking an
invisible daisy from the ground and plucking its feathers one by one, then
raising her hands to her face in a girlish gesture of sweet embarrassment.
The whole time, her eyes watch Superboy, asking - no, /begging/ - for
help...and even as she appears to release a happy sigh, in her eyes, her
spirit is crushed as Superboy's prevented from even coming near.

Superboy watches, stunned as he slams against the stagefloor, hand first.
"Wuaah!" he exclaims, wincing as he hits the ground. "Let ... go ... !" He
manages, lifing his dark eyes towards Tophat.

Tophat's smile seems to expand impossibly...it engulfs his nose, his eyes,
his chin, then his forehead, and then wraps itself around, unfolding on
itself....then...Brainiac is before you, cape fanning out as he spreads
his arms amidst the uproar.

Superboy's eyes widen dramatically, his loose jaw tightening into an angry
sneer. With great effort, he throws himself forward, his free hand
clenched into a fist and aimed (roughly) at Brainiac. His right hand,
unfortunately, remains locked to the ground. He ends up falling again,
albeit in a more painful, contorted position.

Supergirl steps past the crowd to the front of the theatre, narrowing her
eyes at Tophat. She states loudly, "I have a request. How about 'End of
the Road'?" She says over the noise, "I don't know how you escaped and
survived, but this is where it ends." She raises her fists that glow a
bright red, mostly for show and intimidation. o O ( It took all of Earth's
heroes to stop him last time . . . and now it's just me and Superboy. )

Superboy manages to mutter, upon hearing Supergirl's voice, "What a ..
horrible song ..." he looks over one shoulder at Gina, his jaw tightening
once again.

A green hand raises, and thick row of boards from the wooden stage leap up
to counter Superboy's blow. They shatter into a million splinters around
the Kid's hand. Brainiac cackles, floating off of the stage, cape swirling
as he speaks in a triumphant mocking voice. "Fools! Pathetic idiotic
fools! You trifle with my plans? With my carnival?"

Gina focuses on the Kid, and - yet unable to speak - seeing the sheer
orders of magnitude that seperate his tactile TK from the Brainiac's
power, she fears for him again...then stops, remembering that's what got
her into this mess. Dammit, that damn compassion's gonna tie me to him
tighter, and make him easier to get at...no. No!

"You f--- with _my_ friends?" Superboy cries, his voice full of rage. "You
_dare_? You _DARE_ ... _"trifling"_ ... with _my_ friends? My planet? My
_FRIENDS_?"

Brainiac squints his eyes in Supergirl's direction. "Two pawns of the oaf
Superman for the price of one! Its almost worth my personal effort.
However..." He snaps a finger. Four lumbering robotic machines form out of
the tentpoles, sidestepping, pieces of the tent fabric disappearing into
them like rolls of cloth back into a press. Finally constructed, the giant
robots look down at the heroes and the crowd alike with pyramid-faces.
"Capture them...I need these two to complete the Mass Mind!"

Superboy glances toward Gina, eyes filled with fear. "No," he says,
softly, "no ... "

Trying to act quickly before Superboy possibly acts rashly, she raises her
glowing fist and aims it at Brainiac, "Carnival's over Brainiac, let these
innocent people go!" She looks in shock at the robots as they enter,
"Superboy! Try to get these people out of here, I'll take care of the
robots!" She yells out, half expecting him not to listen to her.

Gina looks at Superboy, saying far too much to say, to think about, in
that one glance - and then at Brainiac, and her gaze turns to one of utter
loathing and cold fear...a far cry from her previous brave attitude.

Brainiac laughs, horribly. "My dear, Supergirl! These 'innocent people'
already owe their souls...their very minds to my mighty power! Behold! My
Carnival's number increases!" The eyes of the bystanders glow greenish
suddenly, and they stare up at Supergirl as one. There's tiny metallic
rods sticking out of the bases of their necks...men, women,
children...every race and build and occupation...

Two of the tentpole robots step forwards, reaching for Supergirl.

"Gee, Girl, that'd be _keen_," Superboy shouts, his voice a mocking
rendition of happy 50's sitcom stars, "but as you may or may not know, I'm
currently stuuUUCK TO THE FLOOR!!" his words are angry, forceful, snarled.

Supergirl gazes at the enslaved people, . o O ( Oh no . . he's got them
under his control! The robots . . . I wish Superman was here . . )
"Stuck?" She yells out in reply. "Great." She mutters to herself below her
breath as she charges at one of the two robots head-on, bringing her fist
forward to hopefully strike it down.

The tentpole robot' midsection bends under the mighty blow, and it sails
backwards a good twenty feet, its metallic feet digging up trenches in the
park's lawn. The other robot's claw snatches at Supergirl, narrowly
missing her. The second pair begin lumbering forth, now intent on the
flying girl as well.

Brainiac regards Superboy and Gina with a curious expression. "Do not be
so concerned, 'Superboy'; you will be joining your friend in a mental
convocation never before seen. You will be more than friends...you will be
one...the Mass Mind!"

"Sounds charming," Superboy says in a tired, frightened voice. "You raised
on old B movies, too?"

Thinking quickly, she levels a psychokinetic blast at the second robot,
hopefully buying her enough time to attempt a quick telekinetic pull at
Superboy before turning her attention to the other two robots approaching
her, "Can you try and pull free?" She asks between actions.

Brainiac smiles, bringing his head closer to the Kid. "You will scream a
hundred times for every insult, my young friend..."

The second robot's arms shatter, and it studdenly topples over, the blast
having ruined it's internal workings utterly.

Brainiac snaps his fingers, and Superboy and Gina suddenly feel very
sleepy...

Gina thinks . o O (No! No, please, he didn't do anything! Please....please
don't hurt him dont hurt him he didnt do anything more than care and hes
scared and i dont care what you do to me just dont hurt him please no
please no...*)

Brainiac peers over his shoulder, sneering. (Blasted contraptions...she
has the Kryptonian's luck...Still, I have all I need here. Yes. All I
need.)Oo.

Superboy ignores Supergirl for the moment, concentrating on Brainiac's
threat "Your name and image are asinine," he says, "you're ugly. You're a
waste of good skin. You've a low sperm ... count .... You're ... ehn ..."
he begins to drift off, slipping to the floor with a hard sound, "Ehn ..
what's .. that ... five hundred ... screams?" *thhnnnk*

Gina's eyes close, utterly concealing the turmoil within, until she looks
exactly like a doll...only the fact that she looks so real is any
indication that she's not made of ceramic, or wood. She hangs from the
strings, unmoving.

The last two robots reach out with extending arms after Mae's spiralling
form.

Supergirl looks back at Gina and Superboy before she slowly vanishes into
nothingness, invisible to any form of vision. . o O ( I can't handle this
alone . . I'll come back for all of you, I promise. ) She thinks to
herself before she streaks off at superspeed.

Brainiac motions to the mind-controlled mass before him as the robot stop
chasing the now invisible Supergirl. "Never mind her, my friends. We have
much work to do...yes...much work." He motions out to the sparkling
skyline beyond. "We have a City to destroy!"

	The organ music slowly grows in intensity as the crowd of green
eyed figures march after their new master, the figures receding into the
reforming tents, disappearing, and the sounds of the Carnival
continuing....

<not so much later>

Metropolis: Centennial Park
 Sandwiched between slums and high-rises, Centennial Park is a public gathering
 place for picnics, cycling, or long meandering strolls. The grass and
 various trees are upkept by the city, as well as the benches and war
 memorials. By far the greatest monument however, is the 'tomb' of
 Metropolis' once-dead first citizen--Superman. Though the Big Blue Boyscout
 is once again flying faster than a speeding bullet {and very much alive),
 his larger-than-life bronze statue stands guard over the park, with the
 words 'Earth's Greatest Hero' etched into the granite slab upon which it
 stands. This massive piece was erected less than two weeks after the battle
 between Superman and Doomsday, and funded by LexCorp. After Superman's
 return however, the city also took over the upkeep of the statue.

The shambling form of Ineo, the Devilish Haunted man looms tumescently
above the dully walking crowd only for a moment, then his hideous bulk
ducks vertiginously under a tent flap and is gone, leaving only the eerily
faint and malevolent whisper of spirits trailing in his inhuman gait, like
distant buzzsaws striking metal.

	 The large circus style tent declares that this is the launching
area of the thrillride known as the Rocketsled. A patch of the roof has
been cut away to allow the night sky of Metropolis to blink through. The
interior of the Rocketsled is a smooth example of retro-whizbang style,
all done with fins and curving arcs. The interior of the super high tech
Carnival ride is a bright green color, with red highlights. A few pale
lights mark the control panel in the front, where there's a pair of
mind-controlled Metropolitans seated, hands loosely placed onto the yoke
and throttle. Through the clear bubble canopy, there's a slew of several
hundred carnival-goers, all staring mindlessly at the Rocketsled. They are
encircled by many of the Moses and Milton Carnival's freaks. In the middle
of the Rocketsled's seating area sit Gina and Superboy, cuffed together by
some greenish glowing telekentic force.

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man stands nearby. Something rattles in his
throat, a corpulent gurgle that does not move his lips: a loathsome,
sacriligeous laughter, slithering outwards towards the Rocketsled. Then a
clearly different voice speaks from near him, sneering, sarcastic, "Ground
Control to Major Tom." it snarls. "The papers all want to know whose shirt
you wear." Then a female voice barks up from nowhere: "Shut up! Let's get
this show on the road." Ineo himself tilts his repellently motionless face
slightly and says nothing.

With long strides, the slender green skinned figure of Brainiac appears in
a nearby hatchway. A bent old hag with a leering gaze lopes behind him,
carrying on her hunched back a strange cylindrical metal device.

The silence that falls over Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man's normal
rustling is almost worse than its continual horrifying speech and
whispering.

An involuntary shudder runs through Gina as she realizes afresh what she's
gotten herself and Superboy into. She looks down silently at Ineo, and at
the masses of mindwiped minions, and at the circus freaks...then shuts her
eyes and whispers, "I'm sorry, Superboy..."

"Wow," Superboy says, his voice weilding a dry edge like a can of Mace, "I
feel like a Jules Verne character, man. What the hell _is_ this .. thing
.. hey, hey, don't be sorry," his tone changes mid-sentence, a soft
feeling creeping into it. "Be angry. It works wonders for me."

Gina clenches her fists, knowing she can't break free but trying
anyway...then she lets her hands fall and sits back. "It won't do
anything," she says quietly.

Brainiac looks briefly at Ineo, and then his two zombie like citizen
'pilots' with a fleeting v-shaped smile. "Hmmmm...yes...put that there,
Crooked Witch. Do be careful. No drool on it either...yes, thank you." The
Crooked Witch cackles strangely, and makes a painful few steps to near
Gina and Superboy. She sets down the cylinder near them, and then backs
away. "See to the mindless pawns below, my pretty."

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man dips his malignant gaze towards the ground,
as if trying (in vain) to not overshadow Brainiac, though the nonsensical
mumblings that fill the air around him slowly return like a music box
being wound up.

There's a hissing sound from somewhere within the rocketship, followed by
the initial rumblings of some sort of test sequence. The two brainwashed
operators of the Rocketsled move their hands like poorly made puppets,
sloppily hitting keys in sequence with the sides of their hands and the
edges of their thumbs.

Superboy glances at the cylindrical device. "That's a lie," he says under
his breath, in response to Gina's comment, "Anger _always_ does something.
Maybe not for the better, but it always has an effect. Now what, do you
think, lies in this cyndrical device? Could it be poison gas? Kryptonite?
Nubile, young women sent to seduce me?" He twists his body, attempting to
speak directly to Gina, "Should I be frightened?" he asks, but the tremor
in this young man's voice betrays his inner fear.

The Crooked Witch's hump disappears through the hatchway, and her needling
voice can be heard over the din, shouting orders to the slackjawed crowd
outside. They begin standing in rows of twenty, nice and neat concentric
rows.

Brainiac points a slender finger at Ineo. "Ineo! It is time to prepare
these two for the Mass Mind sequence! Connect the brainwave stimulators to
them, and begin the cycling process." He leans luxuriantly back in a
padded chair near the front of the ship, steepling his fingers cannily.

It's plain to /her/ that the Kid is scared, but his attitude works
wonders. If he can do it, so can I. . o O (Well, at least I can try...but
look what it got me last time!) "I..." she starts, then looks at the
cylinder. "I doubt it's nubile young women. Unless they're elves or
something." She bites her lip, "Kryptonite? That stuff doesn't affect you,
does it?"

The crowd outside gradually form a few rings around the Rocketsled, the
Carnival's freaks pushing, prodding, and jostling them into place like an
army of idiot children.

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man straightens up to his full height and nods
once. "Don't do it!" a frightened voice shrieks, then a chorus of hisses:
"Shut up!" "Do it!" "Yeah!". Ineo just reaches down, silent, with thick
arms beneath a nearby shelf and withdraws two metal skullcaps, the wiring
glistening like metallic intestines across the surface, the tubing and
connectors knotted and coiled, the flanges part of some ghastly smooth
otherworldly geometry. He holds them easily in each hand, though they are
about the size of basketballs. He approaches the Rocketsled and looks with
tilted head down into it again. "Now this won't hurt a -bit-." the
sneering voice wheedles. "Well. It won't hurt -me- a bit." Ineo carefully
lowers his hands down and places the helmets on Gina and Superboys head,
then adjusts a small knob on each. They whirr metallically and slip into
place firmly, irising down to fit their heads perfectly.

Gina laughs nervously. "Mass Mind? Sounds like some cheesy plot thing from
outta one of my cousin's manga comics...I just hope there's no giant
squidlike things with lots of tentacles...that'd be overboard. I mean..."
she trails off, looking at the people outside the sled, then at Ineo, and
her eyes widen. "What are you /doing/?"

"NO!" Superboy screams, his face suddenly screwing up, features contorted
into a look of evident pain and anger. "NO! Take .. please, please, take
it off me!! Not .. Not my _haaaiiir_!" his catches his breath, and his
features return to normaly, although somewhat tighter than normal. His
eyes remain narrowed, burning with anger. "You're messing up my HAIR," he
exclaims.

Several burbling chuckles of laughter ease out from around Ineo. Then a
small boy's voice: "Run! Run!" Then a chorus of boos and "Shhh!"s.

Brainiac nods approvingly as the preparations are made. "Thank you Ineo.
Now. Keep your eyes on them. I can't keep my mind on everything at once."
He pauses, raising a finger signifigantly. "Not yet, anyways." He bows his
head down, sinking further into his chair.

Gina lets out a surprised laugh, and looks at Superboy. She grins, "I'd be
more worried about making a 'twins' fashion statement like this in public.
After all, a comb can fix any damage the chrome inflicts, right?"

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man, nods respectfully as the voices
collectively make the sound of drawing in breath, though the stagnant air
does not move.

"This look," Superboy says softly, eyes surveying the area, "takes hours
to perfect." He lets a sigh escape his lips, and relaxes his muscles and
stance. "I wish something would _happen," he says, his voice rough, "I
can't do a damn thing locked up like this, and these mindless bastards
make for a dull landscape."

An invisible hand holds the Kid and Gina's heads, twisting them slightly,
so that they face Brainiac himself. "Be proud, my little catalysts; you're
about to accomplish something many members of your pathetic race have
never been able to do...total and complete oneness with your fellow
monkeykind." He squints, smiling as he imagines the experiment to follow.
The glory of it all. "...the Mass Mind...the most powerful energy battery
known to the cosmos, a force unimagined by even my former masters on the
planet Colu...the fools!" He clenches a fist.

Gina says in a small voice, hesitating, "No?"

A few of Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man's accompanying voices put out a
smatter of ghostly applause. It sounds like the cracking of small bones
underfoot.

Brainiac curls open a palm, as if holding some invisible precious jewel,
studying it. "By merging the psyches of your good, noble-hearted, idiot
Metropolitan citizenry, I can create a source of power...a battery beyond
the reach of your tiny purile intellects! Capable of turning your
insignifigant little planet a few degrees from its current orbit...capable
of vaporizing the ocean! But...first...first...I must test my theory." He
opens the fist into a clawlike gesture in your directions. "On Metropolis.
Only fitting. Only fitting."

"I think the Buddha mentioned something of the sort," Superboy says out of
the side of his mouth to Gina, "B'bout oneness with all beings. But the
Buddha, you know, was chubby and cute. This guy's got nothing on him." He
raises his head, struggling against the force of Braniac, "F*** YOU!" he
snarls, before muttering out of the side of his mouth, "That got him
running."

Brainiac sighs. "Sometimes, I wish that I had acquired the caped oaf you
imitate, 'Superboy'. At least he would have had the common courtesy to
avoid...Earth slang." He says the last phrase with utter contempt and
disgust. Brainiac imagining Earth slang. Lower than the lowest,
apparently.

Gina stifles a laugh. "Yeah," she agrees quietly, "Yeah. I mean, the
Buddha also didn't have one of those /green/ things going. I mean, not
that, like, the Green Lantern isn't cool - but at least he doesn't have a
fetish or something. And I'd think having one's brain exposed to the open
air would drive you to distraction. I mean, what if you got a head cold?
EeeeEeewwwWWWww."

Brainiac purses his lips. "Ineo...see to silencing the girl."

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man does not react to Superboy's outburst at
first. Then he leans over the Rocketsled again and puts one thick finger
on Superboy's helmet and pushes gently downwards, back towards his seat.
Eerie silence surrounds him.

Superboy seems to bristle at that. "Sorry?" he says, "Imitate? Imitate??
Did I hear you .. I did, didn't I?" his eyes flicker toward Gina. "He says
I imitate ..." but before he finishes his sentence he looks back at
Braniac, "I'm the one and onnlluuurck! Okaaay! Okaay! I'll be quiet!" his
last words are choked and high-pitched as Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man,
forces his skill to contract against his spinal column.

There's a humming sound running through the Rocketsled now, and a few
lights begin blinking. The mannikin-esque pilots tilt their heads at
lolled angles, hands moving weirdly over the controls.

Gina's eyes widen. "Coping mechanism, I /swear/," she says quickly.

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man looks up, then nods to Brainiac. "Hey, uh,
which knob is it?" a dull-sounding voice says. "Shhhh!" another one says.
Ineo looks over Gina's helmet with a deliberate gaze. He puts one massive
finger to his lips. Then he reaches out with the other hand and places it
on a control on the helmet's surface, apparently at random. He puts the
finger to his lips again and gives Gina an inquisitive look. Quiet? Or the
knob, whatever it does?

Gina claps a hand over her mouth, and shrugs at Ineo, eyes wide, as if to
say, 'It must've worked. Really'.

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man smiles almost imperceptibly. The same
dull-sounding voice says "But...but he didn't actually -press-
anything..." A sudden gust of horrible fetid wind curls around him and a
few shrieks of pain screech outwards. "Okay! Okay! I get it!" the voice
says finally.

Gina winces.

Brainiac regards a fingernail. "Now; where was I..." He snaps his fingers,
a crazed light in his eyes again. "Ah, yes. Now, I have calculated a
thousand probable courses of potentiality...narrowed that down to a
hundred or so prime results...this, by declension, to one, final, perfect
result. The method; gather roughly three hundred unsuspecting and
relatively easily controlled human minds into one area. Gain control of
them by means of my cybertransmitter arrays. Prepare a vehicle for the
focusing of the Mass Mind effect. Establish the vehicle as nothing more
than a whimsical sight on the skyline of the city...so that none should
suspect its true purpose. Then, gather two minds with a psychic synch, and
a strong pair of signatures. Clash the minds in the psychoreactor, channel
the Mass Mind through their mental husks...then..." He blows onto his
hand, flattening it. "Superman's city; destroyed by an idle fool clad in
his very symbol."

Gina raises her eyebrows at Superboy at the word Clash. . o O (No, no. I
don't think...no, it's a cheesy reference. You gonna get it, Boy of
Steel?)

"No, no, you've got it wrong," Superboy gestures to himself, "I'm
Superboy. You're looking for the Eradicator."

Gina whispers, "Yah. Raddy or John Hancock."

With this, the helmets begin to hum. Bluish hazy lights dance around their
edges, and blue rivers of energy stream through the cables towards the
chair upon which Brainiac sits. At his telekinetic behest, a series of
cables snake down out of the ceiling above him, and 'jack into' his brain
terminals. "Now. The experiment begins." A holographic series of images
appear, depicting the crowd outside, overlayed into one big jumble. Images
flicker of memories and images and stretched mirror faces and screaming
running figures and hollow eyes and open mouths and teeth reflecting
bluish light in a vortex of energy...

"That's a cute plan, though, kid," Superboy shouts down to Brainiac, "and
it'd work, too, if it wasn't for us pesky kids." He then glances around,
furiously looking for a way out of the situation. "Err .. damn. I wish I
was MacGuyver."

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted man moves back behind a gaily-painted yellow
line that now takes on a sinister overtone.

You say "Only you would have been so easily duped, Superboy; your weak
affection for this girl proved most helpful."

Gina wrinkles her nose. "Too bad we don't have a pet dog who's good at
disguises. And a killer computer book." She tenses suddenly, her hand
searching for the Kid's, and she's silent.

The crowd outside shutter and sway as arcs of blue energy begin spinning
around the insides of the huge tent, casting blue, then dark, blue then
dark...organ music picks up somewhere, playing a hurdy-gurdy jumpy-dumpy
tune backwards. "The Band Played On"...backwards...

Superboy pauses. "Thanks!" Superboy exclaims, "that's possibly the kindest
thing you've said to me all day. If I could move my hands, I'd break your
neck!" His voice is chipper and happy, like a hellish Disney cartoon. "Hey
Gina," he whispers, "I think it'd be really good if we could somehow get
on the other side of that gaily-painted yellow line." He finds Gina's hand
and squeezes it tightly. "No worries, kid. We're young and, thus,
indestructable."

The Rocketsled trembles, and starts to move from its launching platform
with a screeching of metal and the hum of its alien engines.

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man raises a hand and gives a mindless, weirdly
childlike wave, curling the top part of his hand up and down: bye-bye. You
can't hear the voices now, except as a wild perverse chattering sound just
beneath the whine of the Rocketsled.

Brainiac smiles horribly, his rows of teeth shining in the flickering
light. "Yes!! Its working! Feel it! The minds of hundreds, focusing,
converting to energy!" He laughs, a finger 'conducting' the freakish
carnival music as the Rocketsled starts to lift off.

There's a thunderous boom that fills the area as a red and blue streak
forces it's way into the tent, slowing down and revealing itself as
Supergirl. "This is the end, Brainiac. No more lives, no more deaths, no
more games. Today is the day that someone stops you once and for all." She
glares at him, her eyes glow a bright red as her hands start to glow as
well.

Superboy spies a streak of red and blue. "Superman!" he cries, although he
is unheard over the roar of the engines. "Oh - wait. Supergirl. Hmn." He
glances to either side of him in the rocket, desperate for a way out.

Gina squeezes your hand tightly - if you weren't invulnerably, you'd
probably be worried I'd break it. The girl starts to say something, then
inhales sharply as the sled begins to move. She breathes, "I can't believe
that, boyo, no matter how hard I try. And I'm trying like I never have..."

Ineo, the Devilish Haunted Man looks up and his almost imperceptible smile
disappears. No expression at all replaces it.

Brainiac peers upwards, out of the clear canopy of the Rocketsled. "What?!
What!?You!" He slams a fist down on a bytton on his chair. "Not now...no,
too late, Supergirl! Too late! Hahahaha!" The Rocketsled suddenly jerks
skywards, and a quartet of alien brain-seeking rockets fire off from its
sides, heading for the Maid of Might.

The distant image of the blue flash and the hurtling Rocketsled cutting
through the night sky over Centennial Park doesn't even draw a glance from
the children of Metropolis as it flies upwards. Few even notice the
trailing blue stream of energy that now follows it, that glows around the
ship like an aura of eerie starlight.

Supergirl raises a telekinetic shield between her and the rockets as she
yells out, "Superboy!" in shock and surprise. Turning her attention back
at Brainiac, she prepares to charge at him if she can successfully shield
herself first.

Superboy grows completely tense, his breath quickening. "This is a hellish
way to die," he says, "I didn't plan on dying like this at all, I have to
admit." His hands tremble, and he swallows shallowly as if to stave off
dryness of the mouth - like that's any concern when one's about to die,
you know? Those Little Things.

Suddenly, the night sky is lit up by not only blue, but red, as the four
rockets explode with terrific force all around Supergirl. The flourescent
red and yellow flare and smoky falling debris catch the attention of a few
residents of the neighborhood...

Gina mutters something foul under her breath, then sighs. "Okay. Awright,
this is ridiculous. I feel like a goddamn elf, and this is fricking
santa's /sleigh/. Except santa's /green/, and going to kill us." She
closes her eyes, then opens them again, looking at the Kid. "Time for
fireworks, o fellow tin-can-head?"

Supergirl tries to catch the falling debris as best she can to prevent
injuries to any civilians, and then charges at the main man himself, "End
of the line, Brainiac. There will be -no- more people hurt because of you,
I won't let you, even if I have to stop you myself once and for all
today." The red glow in her eyes intensify as she lets lose a combined
psionic and psychokinetic blast at him.

Superboy says nothing. His eyes are closed and his concentration his
elsewhere, although his is anything but calm. He appears to be tightening
his muscles - but is there anything to fight against? He's certainly not
going to be able to break the telekinetic brace.

Gina wonders if utterly disorganizing her thoughts would make her less
useful, or at least harder to make use of.

Gina thinks . o O (Just sit right back and you'll hear the tale, the tale
of a fateful trip...)

"Your mindplay is weak compared to the might of Brainiac, Supergirl!
Behold the force of the Mass Mind!" Brainiac squints and a shield of
mental energy reflects the psionic and psychokinetic force back towards
Supergirl. The canopy of the Rocketsled is destroyed however, and the
night wind whips through the rides atop of the vehicle. Ineo the Devilish
Haunted Man opens his mouth in an empty scream, and he (and his ghostly
consort) yell for help as they are thrown off of the side of the sled. The
two zombie pilots, Brainiac, and Gina and Superboy remain strapped in.
"Mere moments before I unleash that force through every inch of your
city!"

night wind whips through the riders

Supergirl's eyes become wide in shock as her bolt is unexpectedly hurled
back at her . . and she's unfortunately charging straight at it. "*Ughn!*"
is the last thing she manages to say as she's struck and sent flying
backwards into some equipment.

"HaHaHAHA!" Brainiac concentrates, channeling the first few bursts of Mass
Mind force through the psychoreactor and out from the tent far below.

Suddenly, the seats shift beneath Superboy and Gina. The former youth
opens his eyes and grins a cocky, crooked smile. "Yeeehah!" he exclaims,
in his worst Southern accent, and his (say it along with me) Tactile
Telekinesis dismantles the bonds holding he and Gina to the seat. He
catches himself from tumbling over and hovers, flying forward with the
Rocketsled as it tavels. The only problem - his hands are still bound to
Gina's, although he holds her up as they tumble through the sky, on a road
to nowhere.

Brainiac taunts the heroes. "When I unleash this force, 300 Metropolitans
will die as their minds implode! A mere annotation compared to the deaths
my final unleashing of the psychic backlash!!!" He suddenly widens his
eyes as Gina and Superboy hurtle out of place. "What! No!" He reaches out
with his own telekinesis to try and hold them in place for the channeling
of the Mass Mind...

Supergirl nnnghs as she picks herself up from the pile of junk she's
managed to create . o O ( That's obviously not going to work. Time to pick
a different strategy . . ) She starts to fade from view and completely
vanishes, hoping this will offer her some advantage of surprise as she
flies straight at Brainiac at superspeed, leveling her first for a punch .
o O ( Let's see how well you take brute force . . )

Gina gasps! and shuts her eyes. "Spiff fireworks," she says, with a
nervous, tense giggle. "Hold me in case he turns off the green stuff?"

Supergirl's fist suddenly slows at the Master of Mentalism puts up a force
barrier to eat up her kinetic force. Sweat beads on his green brow, but
he's still got reserves left.

Superboy is suddenly held in place by an invisible telekinetic force. He
glances at Gina and says, as any good cowboy would to a faithful sidekick,
"Just trust me." He smiles again, a grin filled with confidence.

Gina turns her face down, looking at the ground below, and all of the
people there. She looks up at you again and replies simply, "I trust you."

Supergirl can sense...in fact...everyone can sense a rising upsurge of
psychic energy...

Supergirl strains against the force pushing back . o O ( This . . is not
working. Maybe I should destroy all this machinery. ) Remaining invisible,
she sets about trying to ruin all the machines at superspeed, hoping she
gets lucky and ruins something important.

The interior of the Rocketsled begins to shatter and collapse around the
figures, the blue glow around the slowly disintegrating vehicle
intensifying.

Gina closes her eyes, and concentrates on what she can do - she, the girl
responsible for including Superboy in this mess. . o O (We're the
focus...the lens, for this damnable machine. Why? What makes us special?)
She thinks back to the crazy villain exposition from before - when
Brainiac was insulting Superb- . o O (Oh, my god. That has to be it. 'Weak
affection', huh? Can't be that weak if a) he got that upset about it, and
b) it makes us 'attuned'. I...damn.) She sets her face, and tries not to
let the Kid read her.

Brainiac leers over the now clear image of the city beneath him and his
snaking cybercabled-throne. His eyes open wide, as he begins to feel the
full force of his deadly 'experiment' coming to a head...the serene
skyscrapers and sparkling lights of the windows and streetlamps dancing in
his eyes. He parts his mouth, and opens it an inch. "Yes...yes! Its more
power than I even surmised! This entire coast will be laid waste! Too
late, you fools...too late!"

Superboy struggles against the invisible force that holds them in place.
"Christ!" he exclaims, suddenly pondering the concept of religion. "I'm
gonna die and go to hell, which sucks, 'cause I'm a goddamn atheist!" He
glances at Gina, tightening his jaw. "Any ideas, hotshot?"

Gina glares at Superboy. "Me? /You're/ supposed to be the hero!" She
shakes her head, "If you were any good at all, we'd have gotten out of it
before it even /got/ this far."

Gina makes a face. "Hell with /that/, if I didn't know you, that dork down
there wouldn't even have been interested in the first place!"

The bluish glow from the carnival grounds begins to eke out of the tents,
out across Centennial Park...the statue of the Man of Steel cast in its
horrible light.

Supergirl suddenly appears from her invisibility and yells out, "NO!" She
looks at Brainiac and then looks at Superboy and Gina, "It's not too late
. . . " she replies, closing her eyes as her hands glow a bright redish
orange color. . o O ( God forgive me . . if this is the only way . . . )

"Hey," Superboy snaps at Gina, "So I'm not goddamn Superman, alright? So
I'm not as much of a hero as you'd like me to be. I'm sorry, oh - what the
hell, I .. damnnit, I had nothing to _do_ with this! We're about to die
and all you can do is pass the blame??"

You say "Now...to focus the energy...open your minds, my catalysts! Open
your minds to the force of the power I have unlocked!"

Supergirl raises her hands and points them at . . Gina and Superboy, her
eyes closed tightly as a symbol of the pain it brings her to be forced
into this action, but the lives of millions are on the line, and if this
is the only way . . then she has no choice.

Lancing blue lightning dances around the hovering figure in the floating
chair, his smile broad and garish. It plays over his broad green forehead,
and plays up and down his head-bands.

"F--- yeah," Gina retorts, "I'm a stupid goddamn helpless little victim,
remember? The kind that gets tied to the railroad tracks? You just do this
for the kicks, and you /know/ it. You do it to get the girls, and this
time you screwed up." . o O (I pray this works...and I'm /so/ sorry,
Superboy. I'm sorry. I just hope we make it through this so I can
explain...) "This time /you/ screwed up, and /I/ have to pay. Hell,
/you're/ not gonna die, you're f---in' invulnerable!"

Superboy appears hurt, stunned. "The girls -- it's just to piss people
off, Gina. It's just .. rebelling for the sake of .. iconoclasm but .. I'm
.. don't .." He pauses at this, biting his lip. "You're one of my only
friends, Gina. Don't .. please, don't do this." He stops stuggling against
his invisible bonds, focusing his attention on Gina.

Supergirl states plainly, opening her eyes as a single tear streams down
one cheek, "No, Brainiac. Not today." The energy glows brightly as it
expands and crackles about her hands . . she hesitates for a moment . .
hoping, praying that something will happen . . anything. A miracle . .

Brainiac narrows his eyes, the same triumphant smile on his face. "Think
your last thoughts, fools..." The lightning lances out, and gets thrown at
weird angles around the two arguing teenagers.

Gina bites her lip to keep from stopping, to focus, to make sure she
doesn't start to cry and - god forbid - tell him she loves him and she
hates herself for what she's doing. With a massive effort, she actually
makes her eyes quite cold and unemotional, her jaw set hard. "No. If I'm
going to die, I don't want to die uselessly. And I would, if I didn't
admit to myself that anything I've ever felt for you is a lie, and a
desperate move to advance myself." She smiles slightly - coldly,
distantly. "How do you like the feel of that, you damn sex symbol? Media
icon? Being used as much as you use other people?"

The energy glows to it's peak and Supergirl makes a sigh of sadness and
remorse, "Forgive me . . " She quickly turns in a blur of motion, release
the full power of it at Brainiac, hoping that her timing is right . . that
he's concentrating too much on his pet project . . that she's fast enough
to do it.

"I can't believe you're saying this," Superboy says, his voice soft and
trembling. "I .. I can't believe you feel this way." He draws his breath,
and turns away from Gina, his face a mirror of the turmoil raging through
his conscious mind. He says nothing more, but enough has been done. The
roots of the friendship, trust and companionship, have been broken. What
is left is little more than a shadow of what could have been.

With a snarling yell, the Coluan mastermind and his flying chair are
thrown out of the loop by Supergirl's blast. The chair smoking, and his
eyes glittering with brilliant daggers of hate. "Die, Supergirl! Die!"
Flashing bolts of mental energy assault the superheroine, like a barrage
of impossible missles.

Supergirl quickly raises her arms as if it would help, and screams out in
pain as they mentally assault her and begin to eat away at her shields.
Gritting her teeth she closes her eyes and tries to hold on . . .
wondering to herself how it could end this way, when she's tried so hard.

"Hahahaha! Betrayed at the last, you pathetic weakling! Now that I have no
distractions; FEED MY HATRED! DESTROY THIS CITY!" There's a thunderclap
and a sudden explosion of dizzying proportions as the lightning and blue
flashes coincide around the flying forms. There's a sound of a sudden
scream that echoes far over the concrete and steel canyons of the mighty
city of Metropolis, and suddenly...silence.

	A blue flicker dies out as the falling form of the still seated
Brainiac twirls towards the bay, leaving a faint trail of smoke. The light
dies at last, and the sounds of police sirens ring out over Centennial
Park...

Supergirl floats there a moment . . half expecting to be dead as she holds
her hand to her head, . o O ( I feel like Superman smashed my skull in . .
. what happenned? Is the Metropolis ok? ) She looks around her,
"Superboy?" She scans for Brainiac within her field of vision also.

The carnival grounds are mostly silent, save for the sound of an organ
finally slowing down, the weird music dying to a halt. A bunch of confused
Metropolitans stand around, some walking to examine the carnival, some
sitting down and rubbing their heads.

As the Brainiac's telekinetic grip is severed, the two teenagers are free
in the air. And since Superboy can fly, he's fine - but that sweet little
hellspawn argument between the two left him with his back to Gina, so she
starts to fall, silently. As high up as they are, well... she cries,
falling, "Aaaas you wiiiiiiiish...."

Superboy pauses for a moment. Suddenly, his brain kicks in and ponders
Gina's statement. It has since been hypothesized by many a philosopher or
psychiatrist that, in this fateful moment, Superboy proved one thing to
himself and to all who know him - he truly does live life one prop culture
reference at a time. Before the eye can blink, Superboy is plummetting
downward at a rate significantly faster than 9.8 meters per second,
squared.

Supergirl sees that Superboy has matters on his end taken care of, and
slowly descends down to the park, . o O ( What happenned? Why didn't
Brainiac's machine work? Not that I'm complaining . . . where is he? I
can't see him anywhere. . dammit! He must've escaped. Well, at least the
East Coast is safe again for now at least. )

Supergirl holds her head in her hands . o O ( Ugh, how do I get rid of
this headache. I'm going to be feeling this for -days-. )

At about one hundred meters above the ground, Gina reaches terminal
velocity. Superboy, however, is still out of reaches, and continues
hurtling downward. As his jacket flaps behind him from the force of the
wind, he reaches forward, struggling to touch glove against skin -- and
does so, barely ten feet off the ground. The moment he touches Gina, the
both of them stop, dead, in the air. Gotta love comic book physics, man --
tactile telekinesis betrays the law of inertia.

Supergirl floats down beside Gina and Superboy, "You two look amazingly ok
for having had all that energy siphoned through you. Are you both
alright?" She asks with concern, stilling holding her finger to her
temple.

Gina flings her arms up in front of her face, in a last futile gesture -
and...nothing happens. The wind stops.

Superboy ignores Supergirl's words. In fact, he ignores her very presence,
focusing entirely on the young woman that he clings to. He gently lowers
he and Gina to the ground -- the moment they reach the grassy earth, he
lets himself fall down out of (emotional) exhaustion.

Supergirl watches you both collapse and gently sets herself down on the
ground, "All I need is a nod. Otherwise I'm taking you both to a hospital,
even though you both should go anyway . . that was some ordeal." She
waits. For a nod, for grunt, for anything.

Ignoring Supergirl for the moment - just the moment - Gina holds on to
Superboy for dear life...crying now, shamelessly, but silently. "I'm so
sorry," she gasps, "I had to." When they reach the ground, she buries her
hand deep in the drying grass, as though unable to believe she made it.
Then she looks up at Supergirl.

Superboy simply lies on the grass, as if his mind is too busy to formulate
a worded response. His eyes watch the sky as the world moves around him on
this sunny day. He inhales and exhales the crisp air slowly, seeing
patterns in clouds and remaining ever silent.

Gina nods silently. Her eyes are bright. Mmn. Not gonna expand; at a loss
for words.

Supergirl glances at Superboy to make sure he's breathing and has some
sort of brain activity before turning to go discuss with the Police as
quickly as possible and leave to get rid of this tremendous headache.

Gina says softly to Supergirl, "I...I think we'll be okay."

Supergirl nods to Gina, pausing before she pivots to leave, "Ok. Do you
need an ambulance?" She stops and waits for a definite reply.