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Painite felt the arrival of some of the other Negaverse agents she had called to the game. She was so glad for their excitement and their loyalty, and was thankful that they had decided to show up to this little endeavor. They would all have their orders, and she would give them the cue for them to start their fun, though she hadn't told them what the cue was.

She imagined it would be pretty obvious to them, though, when it did happen.

Already tired from her efforts through the early evening, but excited by the result, Painite opted to keep herself hidden from the sight of any of the civilians at the carnival. Just in case.

There might have been a senshi or knight lurking among them, and they in turn could recognize her and she would be none the wiser. It was better for her not to risk it, for now, until she could really get the party started.


Anthony Darrow would have rather been at home as well, though he knew that his pregnant wife could not deny the puppy dog eyes of her daughter. That trait seemed to be genetic, and just as potent on those outside the family, as Tony had never been able to say no to Kyndall when she made that sort of face at him.

So here they were, at the carnival. Tony was doing his best to relax, but he stayed very close to his wife, and he made sure she wasn't stepping on any uneven pavement, that she wasn't walking too far for too long, that she was comfortable and happy. She was pregnant, after all, and he was not going let her hurt or overextend herself in anyway.

Even if they were having some fun.

He let Harmony run off where she wanted. Nathan had been invited but, of course, he'd declined in his typically polite fashion. At least the door had been closed, so Tony hadn't actually seen the middle finger being thrown up. Just felt its existence through the disturbance in the air.

He had Dogby with them, as she refused to be left behind, but of course she was already tired and she did not want to walk so Tony was stuck holding her in one arm, cradled like a baby. The Corgi could not have looked happier, gazing out at all the potential new friends in wonder and excitement.

"I'm glad you're happy, my love," Tony said sweetly, kissing her on the cheek. "I love you too, by the way. I suppose I should have led with that. Anyway, ah. What do you want to go and do first?"

“You're the one getting worked up,” Paris muttered.

He was being on his best behavior. Really. Honetly. Or at least he was trying to. Whether he was successful or not was probably up for debate given that he couldn't stop himself from making a few contradictory comments here and there, but he thought he was doing and okay job at holding back. A part of him didn't really want to. It'd be easier if he could say whatever and behave however he wanted without having to worry about what Chris might think or how he might feel about it.

Instead, he kept himself mostly quiet and sulked as Chris took his hand and pulled him toward one of the food stalls, more or less dragging his feet the whole way.

“I'm not hungry,” he mocked, another tiny small slip of the petty childishness he might have otherwise engaged in had Chris not been around.

It was far from the truth. He'd denied himself as much food as usual over the course of the day on account of coming here tonight, so that he wouldn't feel quite so bad for stuffing himself full of popcorn and funnel cake and other such carnival fare, but it was difficult to find enjoyment in the things he'd been looking forward to when he felt so frustrated over the entire situation.

Paris looked at Chris apologetically and finally just caved and snuggled closer for some comfort, not really caring if he seemed like a baby for hiding from the big, mean best friend he just wanted (but would never admit to wanting) a shred of approval from.

“I don't care, just get whatever,” he mumbled, but quickly decided he did care after all and amended the statement, “but not the twinkies, or anything deep fried. Ew, not a corn dog either. Or pulled pork. Gross. You're going to pitch a fit if I try to get some beer, aren't you?”

“We are not close to the same age,” Marissa denied.

She might like to insist that she was still twenty-seven despite really being a decade older, and she might not always be as mature as someone her age probably should be, but she refused to equate herself with Michael, whose typical behavior was obnoxious at its best and utterly piggish at its worst.

That wasn't to say there wasn't anything good or decent about him, just that it tended to get lost beneath the arrogant mental image she already had of him.

“Claire, do you not see anything wrong with trying to set your son up with your younger son's mother-in-law?” Marissa asked, shooting Michael a withering look when he turned his attention to her niece.

“Well, you're not dating anyone, are you?” Claire said.

“What? No. Claire, that's not the point.”

“Don't be silly,” Claire said, turning to continue leading them all along the Game Boardwalk again, taking Michael by the arm to encourage him to join them.

Marissa rolled her eyes and scoffed quietly, following a few steps behind and trying to focus on what she thought was the more important topic—that being Peter's penchant for sneaking out at night and the potential reasons for it—but as she didn't really want to allert Claire to anything untoward or reveal any knowledge she might have on the subject to Rhiannon (whom she thought was entirely innocent), there was not much more digging she could do on the subject for the time being.

But the way Michael had ignored her? Very suspicious.

“Anyone up for a game of air hockey?” she tried, staring at Michael in particular. “Rhiannon? Claire? Cupcake?”

Chris stiffened as he heard a voice he didn’t particularly like. And sure enough the guy Zia said she was apparently living with was there.

“Beer isn’t liquor,” he pointed out, a forced smile on his face. If this guy was going to give him a hard time for whatever reason, he could at least listen long enough to hear the context of what they were talking about, before jumping to conclusions. Not that Chris even drank. He outright refused and had only been convinced all of two times in his life.

“I’m sure there’s a policy that allows the ride operators to bar anyone whose judgement they think has been impaired,” he pointed out, not even getting into the fact that there were plenty of safety restraints involved to keep people from getting hurt. He was sure that small carnivals like this wouldn’t be very welcome to having lawsuits thrown at them.

But Paris’s comments kept him from making any more of his own, although he did have to force back a grin of amusement. He watched as Paris went to get drinks, his annoyance lowered only slightly. As long as he wasn’t in the middle of the cat fight, he could appreciate his partner’s show of immaturity a little more.

“So you’re skipping out of a lab to come here?” he said with a small nod and a look that clearly showed how unimpressed he was with Pascal’s work ethic. And without even thinking about it, he took the extra plastic cup of beer from Paris when he returned, if only to appall Pascal even more than he already was.

Whether he meant to or not, there was a small blush on Nicole's face when he mentioned Valentine's Day. It was just so embarrassing! Not only had she nearly died that day but her mother pretty much danced when she heard. Way to go huh? Nicole is in the hospital telling her worried mother just what happened and she only seemed to care about the man who had practically kissed her! It was close enough, and finally her dream for her daughter was coming true. Nicole on the other hand felt something else.

"Yeah, my mother was estastic." She said with a very exasperated tone.

It was his comment about how she was dying to see him that simply made her laugh. It was so inappropriate but she definitely preferred it over the comment about their Valentine's Day "date".

"Yea, just seeing you here made my heart practically stop!"



Pascal found himself reassuring Zia only long enough to notice the compact mirror she had open. His brow shifted uncomfortably as his hand quickly went over to snap it shut and take it away from her. He put it in his pocket simply because he didn't want Zia to complain about how he's broken it. However, feeling it in his pocket made him feel so uncomfortable that eventually gave it back to her with a plea.

"You don't need to look at yourself constantly, you're beautiful. If you want something to check out every minute then you're free to use me as your guinea pig." He was honest about what he said but he was also making light of a subject that caused him great discomfort and Zia knew it. He had no doubt she understood because this wasn't the first time.

"I am glad you understand. I'll be sure to steer clear of the swings," he said without so much of a sneer. He was actually being quite serious as he looked back to Paris, falling back to his comfort zone. Her introduction didn't say much about her other than her name but the ring on her finger and the following comment about significant others made him fall to the reluctant conclusion that this girl was married to Chris. Chris' acceptance of the beer settled it and he found himself remembering his past. It was a sign he'd seen often as a child.

With the fact that Paris was married to Chris, it should have given him more fuel dor the fire but for whatever reason he didn't make any snide comments.

"Actually, since I am already finished the lab I was excused early," he corrected both Zia and Chris. "Don't get me wrong, I am not here entirely for play. So how about it Zia, I've been wanting to scope out the mechanics of the rides and I would love some company."

"Aw, dang it!" he shouted in frustration, still clapping. How the hell was he supposed to find her now? It was only the twenty-first century, it wasn't like there was a technological device that people carried on them at all times so that you can contact them and ask them where they are. This wasn't Star Trek. "I ain't seen no one else in here either, but I lost my friend. Her name was Haley. s**t, I'm sure she's fine but..."

That sentence never finished.

"I'm Ricky by the way," he said after finally finding the willpower to stop clapping. "You got any idea how to get outta here? This place is really confusing, and why are there so many mirrors? I don't like this none bits."




Meanwhile, in the picnic area, Haley's quest to find Ricky was proving to be just as useless. While Ricky gave an actual attempt to look, Haley's search mostly involved her standing in line for a half hour to buy an ice cream cone, only for it to topple over on the first lick.

"Awwww," she groaned in sorrow as she contemplated eating the ice cream scoop off the pavement. No. No, that would be bad. She's not an animal, she reminded herself. ANIMALS! It was then that she remembered one of the appeals to this carnival that made her want to go in the first place - an animal pen! As a huge animal lover, she was less interested in seeing beloved animals, but instead was planning to go to protest the caging and penning of animals.

Excited about the idea of protest, she dropped the rest of her ice cream in the trash as she skipped ahead to the Animal Pen with a determination to annoy.


Tag waited and waited in the children's park for any sign of Chelsea and his son, but he began to lose his patience. They either weren't showing up to the carnival after all, or just elsewhere in the park. With a light groan he got off a bench and began to scour the park some more, and feeling that the Rides may be a good place to look, began to head in that direction.