High up in the sky over Sunnydale, Xander concentrated on maintaining the spell he was casting. He'd just sent off the last Orb of Confinement downwards, and the teenager in another's body absently watched it zoom away, to find and capture the final wearer of the Chaos-charged outfits. As Xander continued to pour the Hellmouth energies he'd recently absorbed into the multitude of imprisoning charms that were hopefully subduing and safeguarding those people who'd had the bad luck to wander into a certain Englishman's Halloween costume shop and purchased something there to wear tonight, the Scooby Gang member noted with a fraction of his attention that his recent scrying spell had only revealed the specific number of those unfortunate individuals, but not what they were wearing, or even who these Sunnydale citizens were, either in their new forms or in their original identities.

Shrugging to himself in mid-air, Xander doubted that he really needed to know the answers to those latter issues, as he kept on casting the spell. Even though it might be a good idea to check anyway, the high school student simply didn't have time to be picky about it, just like before, when he'd first done his large-scale casting of the Orbs. It could be settled later, if there was indeed a later. In any case, things looked to be quieting down below on the streets of Sunnydale.

Xander cocked his head, listening while going through the last parts of the spell. Yeah, the noises of destruction had finally stopped - all the explosions, gunshots, screams, shattering glass, and everything else that showed people in their new costumes of Chaos weren't playing nice tonight. Unfortunately, this sudden silence was quickly broken by the numerous sirens of emergency vehicles, as the police, firefighters, and ambulance drivers started rushing to where they were needed.

Groaning in exasperation as he finally completed his casting, using the surge of emotion from his newfound irritation to nail down the spell that would surely keep his prisoners out cold and safe from harm in their confinement globes, Xander growled to himself, "Oh, now those guys are willing to stick their noses outside their safe holes?"

The teenager's mood wasn't improved by the remnant of Richard Wilkins' personality indistinctly pointing out that it was by his direct orders that city employees stayed inside during the nights in Sunnydale, making sure the secrets of what happened in the town's darkness remained restricted to as few people as possible. Basically, while Wilkins normally used his sorcerous powers charged by the Hellmouth to keep things in the city from getting too bad and possibly attracting outsiders' attention, the citizens of Sunnydale were essentially on their own every night, and they quickly learned to stay home and to stay quiet then. This included the town's public officials. Any cop, firefighter, or EMT who disobeyed the Mayor's instructions and went outside after sunset to investigate strange noises, odd events, and bizarre-looking people had a tendency to disappear. Which made the survivors even more determined to ignore virtually everything that happened past the walls of their stations, hospitals, and vehicles.

Xander grimaced, as he realized that if this rule known by heart by every guy having their paycheck signed by City Hall had for once been totally disregarded, things must be really desperate out on the town's streets tonight. Even for Sunnydale Syndrome, there were limits to what this memory-altering spell could do on its own, and something on the order of Barney the Dinosaur and one of the velociraptors from the movie 'Jurassic Park' holding a cage match in the middle of someone's front lawn would damn well make the householder call the cops, or Steve Irwin, or someone for help. Failing that, bring over a few dozen sets of earplugs before that incessant singing of "I love you, you love me" drove the entire neighborhood insane.

Glumly acknowledging to himself that he had to postpone his confrontation with that jerk Ethan while helping out with the consequences of that man's Chaos meddling, Xander began to quickly descend from his position in mid-air, his body heading towards the ground while checking again in his mind the spells that Wilkins knew concerning healing people, repairing destroyed homes and other buildings, and putting out fires. He'd undoubtedly also have to wipe away even more memories using the Sunnydale Syndrome spell at full power, which wasn't going to be fun at all, both for him and for those innocent people whose only crime tonight was to share the same town with a Grade-A bastard.

"Okay, that's it," muttered Xander to himself as he stopped about a hundred feet high above a major street, to then start smoothly gliding through the air towards the large cluster of blinking emergency lights ahead surrounding an office building currently on fire. "I was just gonna kill the guy, but now I think I'll torture him for a while before I do that."

His mature face grim, Xander Harris went off to help, forgetting his previous plans to possibly check upon those costumed people he'd just restrained in his Orbs of Confinement. Though, it really was a pity that he'd been distracted by other events at the moment in overlooking this, considering that various unexpected situations had just occurred at diverse locations where these energy globes had presently captured their prisoners. These circumstances included the following, in which had Xander known about them, he would have really, really wanted to be present there, if only to have his heart burst in joy, or just to take lots and lots and lots of pictures.

As the descending globes of glowing energy headed directly for them, Madelaine Giroux once again screamed as she took to her heels along the Sunnydale street. Running as fast as she could by the side of the fleeing French noblewoman, Willow had to admit in the middle of her own panic that this time the annoying girl that had taken over Buffy's body had beyond any doubt good cause for her current terror. The smartest student at Sunnydale High didn't know why they were suddenly being pursued by big balls of white radiance, but it couldn't be good.

That was the redhead's last coherent thought, as the onrushing magical spheres overtook the two girls in their futile attempts at escape. The Orbs of Confinement, having been drawn by their Halloween costumes imbued with Chaos magic, now simultaneously engulfed the pair, lifting them off their feet to dangle inside the globes as both females were then rendered unconscious by the spell cast by a very busy Xander Harris several moments ago, who had no idea that his bestest bud had somehow managed to become a real ghost. Not that this state of non-corporeal existence kept Willow Rosenberg from being unaffected by the Hellmouth energies of Mayor Wilkins, as she now floated limply inside her own magical orb.

Taking a few steps back, to then scrape the toe of her right shoe across the ground in order to dislodge the upper left incisor stuck onto the material there, Cordelia Chase paid no attention to her actions, as instead she regarded with a very cold eye the whimpering creature lying before her, one hand clutching its groin and the other arm wrapped protectively around its head. That meant she'd be unable to kick out any more of Jo-Jo's teeth. However, it also meant that its ribs were now unprotected, so with the light of battle gleaming on her flawless features, the young woman in the tattered cat costume that was barely holding together during all her strenuous activities now stepped forward and swung back her right foot, about to find out how many fractures she could inflict on that hairy idiot's sternum.

In the next moment, while her foot was in mid-air, a blurring streak of whiteness fell from the sky, instantly covering all of Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy, who jerked once and then gratefully became unconscious. Flinching backwards, Cordelia gaped at this creature now inside a glowing globe just a few feet away. She then started blinking and squinting at the sphere, as her immunity to Sunnydale Syndrome fought against the upgrade that Xander had just imparted to all of his Orbs of Confinement, which also resulted in giving Cordelia an overwhelming urge to avoid her present location. Stepping back further, Queen C then glared for a few seconds at her pursuer, who'd somehow found a way to avoid its deserved punishment, to then transfer her enraged gaze upwards at the sky from where the globe had descended.

As anybody who knew her would have resignedly admitted, the young woman's next actions were perfectly fitting for Cordelia Chase. In a blur of motion, her right arm shot up, fist clenched, as she furiously shook that part of her body towards the heavens, where an unknown someone had just spoiled her fun, all while shrieking at the top of her superb lungs, "YOU BIG JERK, I WASN'T FINISHED YET!"

That infuriated action also caused the last few remaining strands at the upper part of an overstressed, clawed, fabric costume to finally snap.

Instantly becoming stock-still in her displeased demeanor, her right arm still raised up high, Cordelia's eyes widened with horror, as she now felt a cold breeze where there most certainly should have been none, in a certain area of her upper torso that, other than her mother and her doctor, only someone possessing a financial portfolio with a minimum of nine digits (ten would have been better, but she was willing to negotiate) would ever be fortunate enough to see on their wedding night together.

Cordelia hastily clapped her crossed arms across her bare chest, looked around wildly for any possible witnesses, and when she thankfully saw none, this young woman then scuttled off homewards, having had more than sufficient Halloween entertainment for tonight.

His head tilted back, Angel wonderingly watched the white globes in the sky descend all around him into other parts of Sunnydale from where he was standing in the quiet residential street, having halted there during his trek to Buffy's house. The vampire with a soul now heard the sounds of anarchy in the city abruptly end, and shaking his head at another of tonight's mysterious events, Angel resumed his quick jog down the sidewalk. After a few more steps, something flickered at the top of his vision, and quickly looking up, the former member of the Scourge of Europe saw something that caused him to become alarmed.

A last white globe had descended to head level further down the block over the sidewalk, coming to a standstill in mid-air until it then started bobbling there in a somewhat disquieting motion. Executing a wary stop, Angel stared at this mysterious object, an uneasy feeling beginning to build inside him. Strange as it might seem, it felt as if that sphere was searching for something. Or someone.

As if that reaction itself had started things off, the radiant globe now blurred with pure velocity as it rushed right towards Angel, who used every bit of his own demonic speed as he promptly dove to the side, above the front yard of the house on his left, in a desperate attempt to evade the oncoming object. Faster than even a vampire could react, the sphere then swerved in its flight, to instantly engulf the Irishman in mid-air and render him unconscious, even as Angel's form continued in its comatose arc, twisting slightly so that when he crashed onto the yard, his body landed upon his front and slid along the grass, all while still covered by the Hellmouth energies. Finally coming to a halt, the prone vampire remained motionless, with the Orb of Confinement easily maintaining its function of keeping its prisoner safe and quiet.

Which was very odd indeed, since Angel certainly didn't have on him what these imprisoning globes were supposed to search for: the Chaos-imbued costumes of tonight's Halloween revelers.

However…

Just a couple of minutes ago, that vampire had a truly ridiculous encounter with someone who had decided to spend Halloween dressed up in his costume as his most favorite comic-book character, an amazing swordsman from ancient times, which had ended with Angel running for his unlife after barely escaping being decapitated by that barbarian hero. The creature of the night with the immense forehead hadn't managed to find out then exactly who he'd met, which was really a pity, since if Angel had known anything at all about Groo the Wanderer, that animal-blood-drinking demon would have fled right back to his Crawford Street mansion, hidden in the deepest, darkest corner of that building's basement, and started fervently praying, even if his lips blistered over the words.

Groo. A legend in his age, absolutely superlative with his pair of katanas, he'd been known to slay entire armies using only those swords. Unfortunately, in most cases, it was his own army that warrior massacred, either by being tricked into it by someone or just forgetting which side he was on. Not only was that man the most stupid person on earth, he carried inside himself the potential for ultimate disaster for anyone even encountering him. Or simply sharing the same continent with that walking catastrophe. He'd brought down entire businesses, towns, civilizations, and cultures, all without meaning to, or even noticing.

In his comic book, Groo was a living, breathing avatar of pure chaos, and Angel had spent several minutes in his company. Which might explain just why an Orb of Confinement had just collected that vampire.

Or why, when Angel slid along the lawn after passing out inside that mystical globe, he'd finished his short trip across the yard to wind up insensibly face-down at the exact spot where earlier today the neighborhood Great Dane had happily ended his week-long constipation.

Or why the lawn sprinklers turned on two seconds later, drenching the entire area with their icy spray for the next couple of hours.