The words Kitty says to him make Pete Wisdom grin like nothing else ever
has. He takes a second to pantomime hanging up a telephone with his
cigarette hand, there in the bar that somehow doesn't hurt as much as it
had a moment ago, still positively *beaming*, and says after a slight
hesitation (remember to breathe!), "You better, you better, you bet." Then
he peers around Kitty and Lockheed and proceeds to grin at Seishi,
reaching forward to shove the blackened ruin of a door out. Time to go,
yeah, go on purpose, see who we can find, see what good we can do. "Ta!
You too. Sorry about that." A human chain, all linked closely and firmly;
Pete tugs at Kitty who's holding Seishi and starts to head out the warped
frame. In too good a mood to even fake a grumble, wow. "Y'know, Pryde, he
still hates me. Said so last time. And first toilet we find, I'm
introducing him..."

As Pete goes for the door, Lockheed tugs on a mouthful of Kitty's
hair--pay attention to me! See what I found! The little dragon hunkers
down on her shoulder, snaking around to stretch a foreclaw out beside her
cheek and show her a bronze medallion marked with an oak leaf. Here! I
found for you!

The blackened door swings open more easily than its grimed hinges should
allow, pouring forth color and sound--tents, banners, and strings of
lights; popcorn, dust, cotton candy and humanity; a cheery up-and-down
carousel calliope. People teem back and forth, laughing and talking and
going between game booths and rides and attractions. As they pass through
the charred doorframe, the burned-out pub vanishes behind them, and when
Seishi, the end of the human chain, is through, the door swings firmly
shut and is gone as well. Up above their heads, nearby, the Ferris wheel
rises into the darkening sky, strung with rows of bright lights.

It's not too surprising that Seishi sees Holmes standing there
first--"Holmes-sama!" she cries out over the noise of the carnival, and,
letting go Kitty's wrist, darts across the short open space and launches
herself at him, throwing her arms around his waist heedless of any
resistance on his part.

Holmes doesn't resist, exactly, but he draws back a little in surprise at
the sudden Seishi-hug. He laces his arms around her lightly, diffidently.
"Sei-chan." he says, his voice warm. "Thank god, I see you are well."

Kitty shoves Pete gently with a shoulder, not nearly hard enough to
threaten his balance. "Creep," she tells him, and follows him through the
door, squinting for a moment into the light. "Lockheed doesn't - what'd
you find, baby dragon?" Seishi's darting from her side is greeted with
alarm, but given the name, not surprise - her freed hand comes up to take
the medallion from the little scaly thing's claw, stroking the outside of
his forelimb for a minute and petting his head. She hangs back for a
second, looking Holmes over at that distance before moving to join the
other pair. "/Smart/ dragon."

Not far down the midway is a familiar figure, though in decidedly odd garb
- rather than his usual jeans and jacket, or one of the suits he wears to
work, Jack's clad in a uniform of some sort, made of a deep dusty khaki.
He looks bewildered and uncertain, though he's doing his best to hide it
behind his usual mask, slipping among the fairgoers.

"Sei--" starts Pete, eye widening - but it's apparently all right, he cuts
himself off. A quick once-over their surroundings, and he turns the
attentiveness up about seven levels. Crowds. A forest, a sea of people.
Lockheed's sucking up to Kitty is greeted with undisguised amused disgust,
but he looks interested in the object the dragon's found, in spite of
himself. "What's that, then? --Of course he's smart, he wouldn't be half
so evil if he were as dumb as he makes out."

"You're all right." Seishi's voice is muffled against Holmes' shirt-front,
and she hugs him fit to bruise ribs. "We found you. Or you found us.
Doesn't matter." She draws back now to look up at his face, and give him a
*shake* as though he were a wayward child. "If you try to go alone, don't
think I'll understand. Have you found what you were looking for?"

Holmes informs her lowly, "Somewhat. Somewhat. I quite think so. I think
art is the key." He is light beneath her touch, and easy to shake, or at
the very least to hold in her strong hands. "It's the only thing here that
I know to function properly." He displays the medallion for Seishi. "I
also received one of these. The Green Man. I know not what it might
signify, but key figures seem to have them."

Kitty lets out a quick breath at the sight of Holmes's medallion, though
she doesn't actually relax much more than Wisdom does. The violet dragon
riding upon her shoulder wraps its tail across the back of her neck for
balance, and darts Pete a few smugly rivalrous glances over Kitty's head.
"Another one," she says aloud, holding the new medallion well over so that
Wisdom can see the oak-leaf side with his good eye, before flipping it to
show the triskellion.

Jack's finally sighted the others, and eels his way through the crowd with
surprising grace, despite his height. "Hallo, all," he notes, rather
curtly though his gaze darts worriedly around the party. "Have you seen
Kate?" he demands. There's another of those medallions gleaming softly
from his chest - not hung on its thong, but peeking from a breast pocket
of the uniform like a parody of a medal.

Wisdom's is quite handily in his pocket - his Zork pocket - along with a
number of other things he seems to have been collecting as he went along.
He eyes Lockheed for a second, and then his gaze flickers over the
medallion Kitty's holding up for him to see. "Mm. Oak leaf." He purses his
lips slightly and says as he's looking up to watch Jack approach, "Yeah,
if wishes were horses. I don't remember. I'm sorry, Kitty." Finally, he
raises a hand - his cigarette hand, again, in greeting to Holmes and Jack.
"Holmes, Celliers. Sorry, haven't. Have you seen Constantine?"

The sun glints brilliantly off of something high up in the sky above the
fairgrounds. It doesn't stay far away for long, though: within seconds,
the faint sparkle has become star-like. An impossibly distant but powerful
roar accompanies the mysterious descent, and in another few moments a
shape is visible. It's a dragon, made of snow and ice, not melting in the
sun but instead turning radiant.

It roars again--louder this time, and there's a disturbing edge to the
sound now. For all its beauty, perhaps the dragon isn't very friendly.

Seishi takes a step back from Holmes to go digging in her jeans pocket,
and comes up with another medallion on a thin red ribbon. She holds it out
to Holmes, turning it to show him the triskellion on one side and the
crescent moon on the other, even as she looks over her shoulder toward the
sound of Jack's voice. "Jack! Another sheep back to the fold. I'm sorry,"
she tells him, concern lining her face. "I haven't seen her. But she must
be here somewhere--this is her element, isn't it?" Her eyes fall on the
medallion in his pocket, and despite her worry, a grin quirks up the
corner of her mouth as she looks around to the others. "Key figures all,
it seems. We'd better compare while we have the chance... these things
seem to come in waves, and we're about due..."

She trails off, looking up to the sky, brow creasing. Too late,
maybe...From out of the crowd a small figure comes, running headlong,
blonde curls flying--Katie, young eyes wide with fear, tears straight
toward the gathering as fast as her legs will carry her, dashing at Kitty
with her arms stretching out as though reaching for some kind of safety.

Celliers notes, voice as arid as teh dream desert he was in not so long
ago, "Seishi, you've been proving remarkably Delphic of late. This begins
to disturb me." He's already tensed, looking about for some for of
armament.

Around them all, the carnival-goers keep walking and talking and laughing
without concern for the dragon, the child, or the slightly-rag-tag
assembly of companions near the Ferris wheel.

Holmes stares up at the dragon, half disbelieving. "I know it." he says.
"She made that in the park." He forgets to run for a moment - Seishi's
presence makes him remember, though, and he grasps her arm. "Back. Back to
shelter, where he cannot reach. Hurry!"

Kitty keeps the medallion in her hand as she sees Seishi bring hers out -
and then there's a roar, and she tenses, her glance flicking up for an
instant. "That sounds -" Lockheed's wings are spread again, the much
/smaller/ dragon crouching for balance and clinging to her curls; and then
there's a flash of pink, and her eyes go wide as she whirls, not letting
go of Wisdom, reaching for Katie as if about to scoop the girl up bodily -
breaking into a run herself if she has to to close the distance, trusting
that Pete will catch on fast enough to follow her lead. Somewhere in all
of this, the medallion's cord has gotten looped around her wrist and
between fingers and thumb, as secure as she can hold it without having
time to put it somewhere safe. "/Here!/"

Everyone *else* has sense enough to go for shelter. But not, of course,
Jack. He's just standing there, as if proposing to defy the dragon with
his bare hands.

"Don't stop!" cries Pete, running alongside, having caught on at the same
time. They'd discussed it - half discussed it, enough for them. Who else.
Who else, looking like that? Where Kitty'd come from, and her shirt was
pink, and the kid looks for all the world like Illyana. Plus, Kitty
recognises, and it /fits/, it's what Seravina was talking about because if
that roaring /thing/ isn't rage then Wisdom doesn't know what is. And then
- then his words take on another meaning entirely. "Bloody /hell/,
Celliers!" He shoots Kitty a look and - and lets go. And splits off to
bodily shove Jack into /moving/. As he's running, he yells, "We're not in
charge, Pryde. Get, phase, /don't linger/." It's okay. We're wearing each
other's names, so it's not a tradeoff. No martyrs.

The dragon dips into an all-out dive. A tiny figure becomes visible on its
back. He--she?--shines as well. Perhaps the first image evoked is that of
a knight in shining armor. Increasing proximity at first seems to confirm
this perception. Then the dragon roars again. The sound is far louder and
longer this time, and it's rapidly becoming more disturbing than majestic.
The knight in shining armor atop the dragon is starting to look a bit
shabbier.

Now the dragon's face is just barely visible, and the sight is a
terrifying one--a rage-filled visage with both icy eyes shattered. The
face of the "knight" is not yet visible; the harshening light thrown back
by the dragon's icy form doesn't do him (and it somehow appears to be a
him) any good at all, even enough to make a definite identification solely
by his looks. In fact, he no longer looks like a knight in shining armor,
or even any kind of knight.

And judging from the way he moves, the way he leans forward, he seems to
be *enjoying* the terrifying ride, as if it were some kind of roller
coaster. The roaring is continuous now, harsh and furious. The dragon
looks more savage than ever. If its rider ever had any control of it, he
seems to be losing it now. It approaches the ground too rapidly. Still
several feet above the ground, Aughrevere swerves wildly. John Constantine
loses his last claim to control on his supposed mount and goes flying
through the air, tumbling and splaying. There's a sudden shine in the air
as his medallion swings around his neck. He hits the ground with a
surprising lack of nasty cracking noises, goes tumbling helplessly, and
finally comes to a halt in a miserable puddled heap, gasping and coughing
pathetically in the carnival dirt, wearing not shining armor but his usual
less-than-stylish assortment of cheap suit and trenchcoat.

A moment longer spent staring skywards--"She made him, and someone killed
him," Seishi murmurs--and then Holmes grips her arm, and her hand closes
on his wrist and it's a toss-up as to who's pulling who as everyone bolts
for the nearest shelter. Katie flings herself into Kitty's arms and clings
like a limpet, sobbing against her shirt. In the fading sky overhead, the
blind dragon rages. And all around, the carnival goes cheerfully on,
unconcerned, unseeing.

Holmes spies Constantine lying in the muck and something /clicks/.
"Sei-chan! Quickly! I think he is the key! Hurry!" A detour to grab him up
forcibly and carry him even before he has his feet.

Everyone's carrying /someone/, here. Kitty lets Pete go in the instant his
hand releases her arm - which leaves her both arms to sweep up Katie in,
staggering back a step as she finds her balance. "'S okay, 's okay, I
gotcha," she breathes to the little girl as she's getting her bearings,
settling the girl's head on the shoulder not occupied by a frantic dragon
- somehow its wings don't /actually/ club either of them in the head as it
struggles to keep its place, then launches itself into the air as a
slightly indignant escort. "Won't let anything hurt you -" Not this time;
not /this/ time. Holmes, and Wisdom, and the others - /that/ way. It's
harder to hurry while carrying the girl and trying to watch the dragon as
much as she does the crowd, but she does her best.

"Steady *on*, Wisdom," Jack replies, as if he has no idea at all what
prompted Wisdom's motion. He's windmilled for a moment, trying to keep his
balance and turn to head for Constantine at the same time.

"Steady on, my /arse/," exclaims Pete, absolutely astonished. "Celliers,
you /git/, there's an immense fucking /DRAGON/ what'll bite your head off
if you don't run! If it's death you're after, let your fiancee kill you
for getting yourself hurt." Of course, at the moment it's wheeling blindly
up in the sky, but it was definitely headed for Jack - didn't he just look
like he wished he was St George? - and - "Sod it." Thoroughly disgusted,
Wisdom sprints off in Kitty's direction.

Constantine is already starting to shove himself to his feet when Holmes
grabs him. "Fucking hell, I can *walk*." He tries to walk a little, but
whether or not he can is yet to be determined, because the way Holmes is
carrying him isn't giving him much room to make his own pace. "Holmes!" he
manages in a hoarse, falsely cheerful voice. He coughs a few times,
swallows hard, and starts again in a somewhat more normal voice, "I didn't
know I was your type." Why is he trying to be offensive now, of all times?
Who knows? Celliers also gets a big sarcastic grin at the sight of his
approach. Without apparently thinking about it, John reaches up to where
his medallion hangs and clasps it tightly in one hand.

"Constantine, you colossal idiot!" Seishi snaps. Icy wings claw the sky in
impotent anger as the lot of them duck into a nearby tent; a painted sign
flashes by in peripheral vision: Enter the HOUSE of MIRRORS at your OWN
RISK.Inside, it's dark and quiet. Mirrors stand all around, warped, bent,
rippling, casting back twisted reflections.

Holmes ignores Constantine's quip, favoring it without even a 'Tchah',
just runs, his long legs rushing ahead. Into the house of mirrors he goes
- he has no trouble keeping his perspective here, and doesn't look
nauseous or confused at all. Indeed, he keep an eye on the dark entrance.
"Silence." he urges Seishi and Constantine softly, listening for the
dragon's activity outside.

Kitty carries the sobbing girl inside, in Wisdom's shadow. She doesn't
reach for him again for the obvious reason: both her hands are occupied
with Katie. It's not quite silence from her; there are occasional soft
whispered reassurances, cradling the girl close against her shirt.
Lockheed's wingbeats do quiet as he reclaims his perch on Kitty's
shoulder.

Celliers steps away from Holmes and Constantine, cocking his head to
listen as well. Not quite a ninja, but certainly a hunter.

Pete, on the other hand, -does- reach - he has his hands free. Or as much
as you can when you've got a cigarette that won't go away. He takes
Kitty's arm, carefully, glancing down at the girl. He's sure. Silence,
Holmes had said. Well, Rage or Hatred is accounted for - the other is
still after the little girl. "Someone," he breathes, "mind the passages.
Vampires don't reflect, and I can't see right, in here."

As they enter the house of mirrors, Constantine flashes the sign a quick
glance (after all, that's all the speed they're going at allows). In that
brief look, though, is a whole lot of worry. He does, at least, have the
sense to be quiet for the moment and listen for the dragon. He doesn't
think it'll come in here, though--this seems more like another challenge.
He casts a gaze around the mirrors with some trepidation. He frowns as he
glances at Kitty--who is she? Then he catches sight of the girl in her
arms and his eyes widen. Katie. Guilt flares up on his face. He left her
behind when he took off on Aughrevere. How...how *typical* of him.
"Vampires?" he murmurs. "Is she still..." Is she still a Vampire. Or
appearing to be one. And the "she" referred to is pretty much obvious.

Seishi doesn't let go of Holmes' wrist even after they've stopped running;
she stays close, gripping her medallion in her other hand and looking
around them. Outside, the carnival sounds go on, but muffled. There is no
indication of Aughrevere or what the dragon is doing... and now there's no
way in, or out, only mirrors all around.

Katie snuffles against Kitty's shoulder, quieter now. "Don't let me g-go,"
she begs.

The reflections off the mirrors tease the eye, on all sides, half-seen
pieces, bent by the unnatural shapes of the glass. Here's a glimpse of
Kitty looking much younger, with long brown curls and a tight blue and
yellow costume; here she is with her hair shorn and an eyepatch, older and
harsher, in black and grey with bloused sleeves and a pirate's curved
sword; here in a sky-blue evening gown with her hair upswept and diamonds
in her ears. Here's Pete at seventeen, Nintendo hat and all--here his
proper age, or nearer it, but with both eyes--here with just the one.
Seishi in jeans and a teeshirt, and in a black catsuit with her mouth
painted red and her eyes shadowed and sly, and in a white gi and holding a
bright sword, and in black again with blood on her hands. Jack in his
uniform, and in Victorian evening clothes, and robed like an Arab; black
leather jacket like a biker, and here chained by his wrists, back whipped
and bleeding. Constantine is here reflected in his usual cheap suit and
coat, and here the same but horned and fanged, skin tinted reddish, and
here casually spinning the chamber of a revolver. Here Holmes looks back
at himself, reflection distorted almost past recognizing. Katie's
reflection laughs in one mirror and cries softly in another; from one
mirror a woman watches, a bronze disk resting on her brow. One reflects a
horseman, and a red light that isn't there; one glitters like ice and in
it a frozen dragon roars without sound. Now and again a broken reflection
shows Moriarty, he of the protruding face and cold serpent's eyes,
watching. Seravina grins slyly, and her face twists into a demon's, eyes
going animal yellow, skin greying with rot. All of this just at the corner
of one's vision, dissolving into senseless ripples like disturbed water
when anyone looks directly at it. And here and there is the briefest sight
of the child Sera, twilight eyes wide and blank, hand curled at her throat
where a medallion ought to hang.

And then there's the image which seems like a strange, twisted picture to
be sure -- it's a colorful, garishly spangled platform on which Kate (yes,
aviatrix Kate) rests. Yet her nubile form is twisted in and around itself
in ways that no human body could comfortably hold...could it? Not to
mention there's that large boa constrictor coiled and twisted around her
sequinned-leotard, fishnet-hose clad form. "Oh /there/ you all are...I
thought you had gotten lost for good!" She laughs, letting out a peal of
delight that bounces and echoes off the glass walls.