And the world erupted...

[Site Event]

January 17, 2018 7pm


A thunderous blast is mistaken for an earthquake in a 10 block radius of the old Casablanca Hotel in Times Square. Brick and mortar sent flying into the square, embedding in buildings across the street as flames erupt out of windows that shatter into a dusting of glittered glass to the street below. The hotel was in the process of being converted into small condos and was known for being "altered" friendly. 23 units were already occupied.

Blood is staining the sidewalk. It is difficult to tell if its from those inside the building or those unfortunate enough to be on the street at the time. People, injured and uninjured are staggering out of the way, bricks continuing to drop from the edifice as the lick of flames begins to blow out floor after floor of windows from the old hotel, clearly fed by an accelerant.

There is the whisper of "Vanguard" on the street while the whine of sirens begins to make its way to the roaring fire.



NOTE: Can be chaotic posting order

[Eris London]

Fuck the world.

 

It had been a routine pick-up and drop-off.  Had, was the key word.

 

[eris]Ahanu, I need a crash cart in Bryant Park,[/eris] voice held the calm of death into her com, even in the face of it she refused to be rattled.  Fuck the Grim Reaper while she was at it too.

 

*npc* …wait, what?

 

It was like riding a damn bronco, or the greatest fuck of choice at the moment… but it still was always a delicate balance between what the machine could handle, and the strength she had to force it to do what she wanted.  Metal bent under her grip, often broke, usually leaving her in an even worse shitstorm trying to keep the damn thing from tumbling end over end and killing more people.

 

[eris]You hear that big boom?  About to throw my blades in Bryant Park, going in at an angle.  Chopper’s gone.[/eris]

 

The com went silent as they sprang into action. They knew exactly what to do, the shudder of the engine as she held what was left of her tail blades into position arguing with her.  The tail began to groan as she cleared the library, allowing her to at least be somewhat confident she wasn’t going to ping pong ball between the damn buildings and cause more of a chain reaction from whatever shockwave had sent shrapnel zinging through her tail like bullets.  Someone was going to die for this, and it wasn’t going to be her.

 

Fuel.

 

Of course she could smell fuel.

 

People.

 

Of course there were people in the park, the skating rink oddly deserted as whatever explosion had ripped through her Broadway route sent them running to rubberneck.  She could jump at this height and survive.  But, no.  People had to be in the way if she let the beast go down on its own.  God she hated people, reaching up to yank the headset from her ears and throw it down next to her as she fought to keep her prized chopper from turning into a spin.  Groan of metal was unwelcome, tail hitting the ground first as its blades snapped into turf and ricocheted against the buildings around the park, the side hitting the ground and sliding to finally roll and crunch the main blades.  It was a sickening sound of vibration and thunder, engine powering down and smelling of burnt oil.  Hands were yanking on the harness release, and…  nothing.  This fucking day just got better and better, the clatter of someone climbing the bottom rungs to see if she was okay surging an unmatched temper forward.

 

[eris]Do you NOT smell gas you fucking moron?!  Run or I'll kill you myself![/eris]  she hissed, reaching next to the seat to retrieve a parachute knife she always stowed in the seats of all her aircraft, drawing it sharply across the harness to release her tiny frame.

 

Eyes searched quickly, ready to scream.  She had just bought them.  Someone was going to die.  The first flicker of fire overrode the need to retrieve her new vintage Cavalli shoes, the bag was covered in fuel.  Shriek was internal- pulling herself from the side of the chopper that was now the top.  Hopping easily from the dead and now volatile small helicopter, she vacated the area, pawing for her cell and making the call to Ahanu.  She didn’t bother looking back at the twisted metal carcass struggling to burn in the middle of what used to be the skating rink.

 

[eris]Clean it up.  Have Toby meet me on Broadway, I’m going to kill someone.[/eris]

 

Phone snapped closed, reaching to straighten the bloodstained, hers of all things, collar on her dark grey suit.  Fingers touched her temple, unconcerned, pulling her hair back into the twisted updo as ballet slippered feet- where the Cavalli's SHOULD have been- stalked the block toward the orange glow in the sky and scent of blood. 

 

Calm, she was.  Subtle, she was not.

[Sebastian Ardal]

"Alright already," Ardal snapped, limping as fast as he could along the side walk.  That was one of the down sides of ghosts, they could fly through things and move much faster than himself.  This one was very agitated and had all but attacked him to make him come with.  Technically Ardal was on the clock and had an assignment from the Order but it would have to wait... hopefully.  If not, well Salvatore was going to have to put up with not having that assignment done.  Ardal might get it from the office but he knew he was to valuable to suffer any particularly nasty consequences.  At least for now.

 

He turned a corner just as things went to hell.  The concussion from the blast and his own bum leg planted him on the ground quickly, which was a blessing it turned out as a his coat took most of the glass and stone that showered him even from his distance away.  His hands gaining small slices and a stone clipped his forehead enough to have Ardal seeing stars as he started bleeding.  The ghost he had been following let out a wail of agony before holes appeared in it and spread like fire eating it alive until there was nothing.

 

His ears were ringing as he blinked his eyes rapidly to clear them.  He mentally flexed and relaxed muscles to test and see if he was injured anywhere else but thankfully he had been far enough away to avoid serious injury.  He might have a grumpy tailor and cleaning bill but he could manage that.

 

Collecting his cane he was careful to stand up, leaning heavily on it as he studied the mess before him.  The old hotel must have been where the ghost had been leading him, likely to defend it's anchor or someone in the old place.  He'd never know now and the soul had not been forthcoming with information in it's panic.

 

Ardal had to take a moment to calm ghosts of a different kind in his head.  He had not seen so much blood and devastation since the sky tore.  He could only stare for a moment as more able pedestrians escaped and others simply sat in shock.  The former politician's son had to employ the training he had received from the Order to get himself moving at all.

 

He stumbled his way over to the now burning and blasted building.  A pouch of bone dust coming out once he found a clear enough area before he drew a design in the dirt and crumbled mortar.  He pulled as many ghosts as he dared, he wished vainly that he might have been able to filter the ones he could reach but he had to do what he could.  Thankfully at least he was at a sight of death, new and old.  It not only allowed him to get more than his usual number of ghosts but a wider variety.  After a brief contest of wills he managed to come up with ten souls to help him in matters.

 

They couldn't pull people out.  That would have required more power than Ardal could manage and he could hear sirens saying that help was on the way.  Other good samaritans were already clearing the people outside at least, leaving the professionals to cover the inside of the burning building.  Or in Ardal's case, the dead.  He used them like mentalists used thoughts, the dead combing through the place for any survivors so that they could tell him and he could tell the rescuers.  Must as Ardal would like to charge into a burning building to save people, his leg made it impossible so he did what he could and hoped more able bodied folks arrived soon that would brave the fire.

 

He didn't want to think about the state of the place and how long it might be before the death count climbed from the original blast.

[Guest Evie Masters]

Who knew that following a target could lead to such terrible consequences.  She had actually been much closer than most when the hotel went up shit creek.  In fact she was less than ready for it.  When the man she had been following stepped into the hotel she was about a block down the street, waiting for her own moment to catch up.  Didn't want him to know that she was following him.  When the explosion went off, the shock wave sent her flying right through the window of a bakery.  Glass embedded itself within her arms and legs.

 

"Ma'am... Are you alright?"

 

A baker stumbled out from the back of the bakery, smoke filled the shop and Whisper found herself in front of a counter.  Glass littered the ground beneath her from both the window and the cupcake display.  Blood as well flowed from every shard of glass that embedded itself around her body. 

 

"Ma'am?"

 

Whisper shifted her body, pain racking her as she looked up to the baker and waved the lady off with a few flicks of the wrist.  A hand reached up to grab at the counter and with much effort she yanked herself from the ground.  Her eyes aimed out the broken windows and her body moved forward.  A body was just outside the bakery, twisted... Torn.  Whisper knelt down next to the man, checked for a pulse, and when there was none she placed her fingers over his eyes and closed them.

 

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me"

 

She whispered to the man and stood seeing more bodies on the ground than she'd like to count.  There was so much death, too much death.  All for what reason?  The urge to find the cause of the explosion filled her body.  A sort of anger gathered within herself.  Pain gathered on the surface of her body though and she grabbed a piece of glass from her bicep and yanked it out with a gasp of pain.  Legs carried her towards the building, where through the smoke and dust of the explosion she saw a man crouched over on the ground, drawing in the dirt.

 

"When I find who did this..."

 

She continued slowly passed the man, the larger shards of glass drawing more blood from her skin.  Another sliver was plucked from her skin and tossed to the side.  Whisper didn't have time for voodoo or whatever the man was up to.  A bloody hand reached up and wiped hair out of her face, streaking a hand print of red across her forehead and cheek.

 

"I'm gonna kill them."

[Mana Aizawa]

Jan 17th, 2018     7 PM 

 

"Wow! Wow! Wow!"

 

No, it wasn't that Mana's vocabulary was sinking into the levels of the demented (something she occasionally feared she was already headed for--though she was still in her twenties).  It was simply the loudness of the explosion and the shaking of the ground.  Mana was, when not cowering in fear, or suffering from sleep deprivation, or having "one of those days," capable of normal speech--really!  

 

Mana had been walking home (home wasn't really home, simply a closet on the upper floors of the Kimono House on Thompson St.) when the earthquake-like shaking had left Mana mono-syllabic.  

 

Mana was somewhere between Bryant Park and her "home" and wasn't sure whether she should rush home (away from the blast) or towards the blast.  In the end, curiosity overcame fear.  So, dressed in a very used 2nd-hand (or 22nd-hand) overcoat and with puffs of "steam" (though it wasn't really steam) coming from her breath as the cold January days in NYC reminded her that she had moved here from LA (and so far was not too impressed).  

 

Mana had not gone too many blocks when she saw a woman, about 165 cm,  with some tattoos on the right side of her neck.  The woman seemed to be mumbling to herself and Mana could well imagine that--easily (mumbling was one of Mana's accomplishments).  The tattoo wasn't the scary part, it was the blood-streaked face that gave the woman her really horrifying and menacing appearance.  Mana might have been inclined to help the woman if the woman had not been saying things like: "I'm gonna kill them."

 

Those mumblings gave Mana pause.  Mana decided that caution was called for and thus instead of rushing to help the poor woman, she stood a ways off and stared--frozen with indecision.  Staring was not quite helping and possibly even impolite and even more probable, likely to get Mana killed since the woman seemed homicidal.  But Mana wasn't a trained "anything" and tended to freeze at the worst possible moments.  So, Mana stood wondering just what the tattoo script on the woman's neck actually said.  

 

Was the woman some religious nut?  

[Abernathy Wynn]

The full moon phase was over. Thank God, the Cosmos, whomever, whatever, but Abby was glad for another day and another night with her sister. Times Square was always a sight to behold, but of course, Abby was here on what was supposed to be her night off. Her cell phone was ringing non stop, the chatter incessant when she finally answered to the concerning news. She could only utter a haste apology to Margie after dinner. Dessert had been in the making, but her baby sister was every understanding of the stressful work of being a cop in this day and age. 

 

"Ghost!" She prided herself in taking him along on her NYPD adventures. He was the only partner who'd stuck by her side since the shit storm in 2010. Not long after was Ghost in the K-9 unit vest, head sticking out the window of a NYPD police cruiser. The scanner was going haywire as the sirens wailed their song, others joining to appear at the scene of the explosion. 

 

She could feel the heat on her face when she stepped out of the cruiser, hazel eyes wide and desperately searching for any signs of life. Years on the force had prepared her mind to close up and not be consumed by the guilt that would plague her. The what ifs didn't stand a chance against the reality roaring and spitting fire within the broken building before her. 

 

"Set up a barrier NOW, we don't want any citizens trying to get through." She called out to the men. She had dressed as all detectives would, especially when she wasn't going to deal with any bullshit. The black pantsuit and the lanyard that had her badge hanging from her neck, along with her commanding tone, sent them to do their respective jobs. A screech of tires revealed the fire engine coming through. Hulking men in their fireproof gear rushed out with the hose, calling out orders as to who would go in and check for survivors. 

 

Abby moved quickly, tennis shoes moving across the broken glass when she heard a cry of pain. A young woman was lying on the ground, leg broken and body at a twisted ankle. She was still breathing and calling for help, but the paramedics were already preoccupied with helping the injured while cops moved those uninjured out of the way. 

 

"I'm here!" She called out, arm held up to shield her face from the falling ash. She kept low as the flames licked and continued to roar from the old building. The catastrophe waged overhead as Abby took a risk. Broken glass could've hit her, hell a flying burning toilet seat, but she was going to help that poor woman. Help all, or help none. 

 

Abby finally caught to the injured woman. That was when she noticed the prominent blue veins and the leaves in her hair that she wasn't an ordinary woman. She blinked yellow-green eyes that reminded her vaguely of Kai's. "Thank you," the woman whispered as Abby lifted the woman's arm to put around her shoulder.  She flinched, breath hitching in pain. 

 

"Where are you hurt?"

 

"My right leg is broken, but I can't move my body... it hurts if I try to..." 

 

"Hold on." Abby gently lowered the woman's arm so that she could remove her coat. With a sharp whistle she called for Ghost. The snowy husky barked as he approached the two, ears slanted back as he kept his head lowered. The detective quickly created a sling to loop around the woman's chest and beneath her armpits, so that the ends were for Ghost to bite into and pull the woman along. Abby had luckily found a flat sheet of metal that had once been a part of something for the woman to lie upon so that her body wouldn't scrape or jostle against the dangerously littered ground. Explosions continued, making its way down as Abby and Ghost pulled the woman away from the burning wreckage. The force sent more shards of glass flying about, and the trio manage to make it to the police tape. The paramedics rushed to help the injured woman. 

 

Abby stood up with a slight wobble to her knees. The soot and smoke had caused a headache, but she'd manage to cough out the rest of the bad air from being so close. What was there to do other than keep the injured and uninjured away? This had turned into a case that she wasn't going to give up on. There had to be clues that'll lead to the culprits responsible for this, and judging by the fact that the restoration of this hotel had been on the news, Abby had a faint idea as to who would be the ones responsible. 

[Johann Sebastian Eligius]

"Not this shit again..."

 

Johann had been walking down the street when the bomb went off, about a block or two away. He heard it first, then braced for the impact, then saw smoke. 

 

Buildings were coming down around him, people wielding the gifts of the resonance to save lives. He urged himself onwards, towards the epicenter of the blast, but took in all the sights as best he could. The sooner he reached the blast site, the more of the chemical compound he could analyze to help the first responders.

 

Powerful legs rippled outwards, blackened cables bulging out of the skin. Johann's tail whipped out in a semicircular motion, and his hands and feet started reflecting the light of the fires. He was picking up speed.

 

The dragon's appendages coiled and extended rapidly as he covered ground. He sped past a crazed man drawing in dust and a woman closing the eyes of the dead, racing towards the origin of the blast. What kind of explosive had this sort of power?

 

The charred remains of a lobby stood in front of him, and the cracking of a wall drew his attention. It was about to collapse and crush a car. Not exactly top priority, but why not save someone the hassle of getting a new car later?

 

Johann's tail slammed into the wall, the cables snaking upwards to brace the structure and hold the crumbling bricks into place. Quickly, he detached the cabling from his tail, and started into the building to find the blast device itself.

 

The police might have objected, but why should he care? Dragons were sort of like honey badgers. They didn't give a shit, so long as they did what they wanted, and he wasn't there to blow anything up. Aura would give him shit for it later, if he'd broken protocol, but this seemed more pressing at the moment.

[Alistair Greene]

Alistair could have really gone for a year without something like this happening. But since the Event, it seemed these things happened every few months, one way or the other.

The first ARMA elements came up around the same time as the police - their vehicles were unmarked, but when the agents piled out they had attached their red and gold badges to the outsides of their jackets. At least in New York, that game them some manner of legal authority, and in cases like this, well, it paid for the city to have a cadre of superpowered enforcers. The nice thing was, at least in some cases, mages could use their powers for things other than combat.

Alistair's red jeep screeched to a stop just outside the barrier of the police cars that had been set up, and the city's 'top magus' jumped out, reaching up to grab the collar of his duster and flip it down while he kicked the door shut again and started toward the police. He had a hand to his ear, though there was no visible phone - instead he seemed to be talking into a ring on his right hand.

[alistair]I need a Knight squad, select for geo and pyromancy, and tell Tower to get over here with some of the golems, we need to clear rubble and prop this building up. Send the doc if she's available, but I'm not optimistic.[/alistair] He dropped his hand after that, looking up at the building and wincing sharply. This was going to be a hell of a day... The pair of mages who had beaten him here, a man and a woman, came up at his side, and he looked over at them.

[alistair]Escovar, you work with steel, don't you?[/alistair] The man seemed slightly surprised that Alistair knew his name, but he nodded, and Alistair gave a smile that he wasn't really feeling at the moment - it never came anywhere near his eyes. [alistair]Cool. I need you to get to work on structural support. Some floors are gone, structural members are no doubt going to shit if they haven't gone already, your job is to buy time. Koteles, go with the cops on the barricade, clear the street for the rest of the responders.[/alistair] The woman was a telekinetic... if people couldn't move their cars, she could hopefully push them out of the way.

[npc]Your're going.... in there?[/i] the woman asked, and Alistair gave a shrug, pulling the sleeve of his coat back. There was a series of silver bands, connected by fine chain, running up his arm from the steel Tag watch he always wore. After pulling them back into place and murmuring a spell, he pulled the sleeve back down and nodded.

[alistair]Cop ran in already I think - yeah there she is. Smoke's in the upper floors so far but the fire's going to get worse, and the fire department is going to have a hell of a time getting through. I'm more worried about the buildings to either side, honestly, but if there's anyone in the lower floors that hasn't already been crushed, I want to find out. Besides which... I want a look before it all burns up.[/alistair]

He turned away then, and the other mages scattered as well - the man to reinforce the building and the more damaged one to the left, the woman to help with the obstructions. Alistair glanced to the officer who'd just pulled someone out herself. [alistair]If you want back in, I'm going, and I've got a bubble of nonlethal air to bring with me. Just a thought.[/alistair]

He turned after that and strode for one of the great holes where the windows had been, arm held up over his head. The smoke and dust shimmered, then seemed to flee from him, staying at least a few yards away in the rough shape of a sphere as he moved. Not that it would save him if the rest of the structure came down, but... hell. He wasn't going to do nothing.

[Nailah Al-Ammar]

Tilting her head to the side, Nailah listened to the chatter, this was her first real mission as an Agent of ARMA...mostly she was just glad to be of use instead of lounging around her new apartment 'resting'. Still, it wasn't as if she were new, just rusty. It'd been a long time since she'd been out on a field mission instead of shuffling paperwork and handing out orders. She almost wished she'd taken Alistair's more hands on approach when she was running things. Could've, Should've, Would've. It was in the past now and Nailah had a new reason for fighting the good fight and this time she'd make damn sure it really was the good fight. Unlike the other ARMA Agents who looked ready for a battle..or at the very least a lot of hard work, Nailah was trying to blend in. She'd arrived shortly after the blast, her shadow form able to weave through the buildings and crowds faster then the ARMA and police vans that were still setting up shop. Nailah's black pants and red top were covered in dust and debris thanks to rubbing up against the others who really had been a part of the blast. As a member of the ARMA's Cloak division, she had a task completely different then everyone else. See if she could find the culprit. Most crazies liked to admire their handy work, so Nailah's eyes were trained on the crowd.

 

She moved about, helping those she could and directing others towards the waiting response vehicles. She saw Alistair show up with all of his normal bluster and head directly into the building. She muttered something about getting himself squished under her breath before turning to help a young woman up off the sidewalk to get her out of the way. She'd hidden her void tattoos under her clothes, no use in marking her out as a mage right away though a couple of people gave her odd looks, as if they were trying to place where they'd seen her before. She'd been a pretty popular public figurehead before her imprisonment though that was quite some time ago, it wouldn't surprise her if at least one person thought they recognized her from somewhere. Her long black hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, a light coating of dust settled into it as the air was full of debris and smoke as the fires grew stronger. If she had to speak, she let her Arabic accent coat her words, playing up her heritage to better hide her from prying eyes.

 

Picking out someone who was fixated on the chaos instead of helping wasn't difficult, it was just a matter of training the mind to look for the proper indications. If Alistair needed her, she was close by and if any fighting broke out, having a Void Mage on your side was never a bad thing.

[Abernathy Wynn]

Something - no, someone flew into the building after knocking the wall into place. The sight of magic wasn't surprising, but it made Abby's expression falter for a second until she quickly composed herself. The yellow tape were set up, ambulances in place, and firefighters doing their best to calm the fire. A squad was prepping to go inside to find the source of the devices. Abby made sure the locals were keeping the citizens back and safe, scouting for any others who were caught in the mishap. 

 

Abby wasn't in her father's shoes, but working her way to his position would make things a little easier. 'Police Commisioner Wynn' didn't sound too bad, neither did her current position as 'Detective Wynn.

 

"Ghost," she murmured to her partner/pet. "You and I are heading back in." She glanced over to the paramedics carrying the injured woman away in a gurney. No doubt others like her were still in there. The blast might have killed many, but that didn't count out the possibility of there being survivors. She could see some reluctance with the rescue team that made her slightly ashamed to still be a part of the NYPD. Rolling up her sleeves, the petite detective checked her gun before sliding it back in her shoulder holster.

 

She was about to head over to the fire unit, when someone approached her. Though, it wasn't just anybody. Abby - again - kept a steel composure when approached by the Commander of Arma himself. She did not know him personally, but his face was not unknown in the media. It was amazing how the news can still keep up with who was who, just as E! still thrived by following celebrities. He obviously had a team of his own, going without any hesitation to deal with the damage of the burning building. The 'all-human' squad provided by the NYPD watched the scene unfold. She could feel their eyes on her, but Abby wasn't going to stand around and twiddle her fingers. She wasn't her father, neither was she chief. She was a detective, and she had to investigate while still doing her job. 

 

"Okay, I'm coming with you. This is Ghost, he can be useful." The husky barked, tail wagging. On cue, his form shimmered to transparency before reverting back. Abby patted the side of her leg for him to come closer. She always kept a tiny bag of treats in her pocket to keep Ghost charged. After feeding him, Abby checked the area one last time before following the magus. She was taking one hell of a risk, but she wasn't going to stand by either. "I wouldn't be needing anything else, ya think?" She asked as she kept a little close. She assumed that this 'bubble of air' would mean keeping proximity, and Ghost wuffled, nose in the air before going slightly ahead. 

 

"Abernathy Wynn," she introduced herself, "but just call me Abby. I thought I'd get that out of the way first." Just in case something happened, at least they'd know each others names. She narrowed her eyes, reflex telling her to shield her face as they walked through a huge hole. When she saw the phenomena occurring, the 'nonlethal air' he'd mentioned, Abby couldn't help her awe. Magic was always going to be a continual phenomena to a mundie like herself.

[Eris London]

The heat was intense from her alleyway vantage point, arms relaxed as they crossed and thick lashes lowered to watch what reminded her of ants scurrying from a bully’s sun-drenched magnifying glass.  Death was a part of life, she never understood why the world seemed to panic at something that was inevitable for everyone.  Let’s just try to save everyone at the sake of dying ourselves or some such bullshit shall we?  People died.  Sometimes horribly.  Boo.  Hoo.  What a complete and stupid clusterfuck.  All the technology and manpower that was left in the civilized world and all anyone could do was panic and gawk, and blow each other up.  Never underestimate the power of humans to shit in their own kitchen for the sake of pissing off their roommates.  Plus, they fracked up her chopper.  Someone was going to die for this, but it definitely wasn't here.

 

Jesus H bloody hell Christ. What a damn mess. 

 

The scent of freshly spilt blood was everywhere… atomized, burning, scorched, wet on the street, recently dead, dying…  bleeding.  Speaking of, small hand pulled a handkerchief from the inside of her suitcoat, wiping the still drying darkness from a sliced temple that was no more, pushing it back in and buttoning her jacket.  Eyes moved across the scene, taking in every detail, scents she could pick up.  Stupid.  What kind of stupid morons would build an apartment complex like this?  She was well aware it was happening, just had doubted someone would be dumbass enough to make it happen.  Put all the lambs in a rickety cage, and see how long the lions would take to knock down the gate and maul everyone.  They deserved it, every single fucking one of them. Bleach in the gene-pool or so the saying was.  Let them burn, the lesson was one she couldn’t have taught better herself.

 

Tiny frame turned to disappear into the darkness back to Bryant Park to go pick up the pieces of her chopper and leave the lemmings to their own demise, attention snapping back to something she could have sworn she’d caught from the corner of her eyes moving into the building with a crumble of brick and a flourish.

 

Well holy hell. 

 

Chuckle was soft, expression curt.  She had to get a closer look at this.

 

She moved like a whisper, the grace of a cat with the intent of one… look cute when necessary but otherwise there to fuck up your day if it didn’t get what it wanted.  Moving above the street in silent, flicker of a second leaps she scaled between damaged building to avoid the fire and land softly on the caving roof of what was the center of everyone’s madness.  Light feet slid down a collapsed beam and landed her silently in the darkness of the top floor.  Smoke made everything on the upper floor a living darkness, the scent of more blood coating her lungs.

 

People crying.

 

Chin dipped toward her chest, the sigh sharp.  Had she really gone in to see what she thought was here?  Yesss?  …and no.

 

[eris]God damn it Eris…[/eris]

 

Her brain had surveyed everything, the building behind that had been spared from the forward blast, the glass next door on the towering highrise that was completely shattered ten stories over this one.  The groan of the older building on the other side.  Pinpointing every breath, every heartbeat… every sniffle and choke.  She’d come in for selfish reasons, instinct not letting her get away with it, now she should probably do something.

 

She rubbed the back of her neck as if caught stealing cookies.  Probably.

 

She had no problem making the hard decisions.  Who would live, who would die, and who she would leave behind.  She would have to go after the dragon later, and scold herself for having the wherewithal to be a good Samaritan. If they weren’t Sheut, or potential Sheut material, she could care less if they stopped breathing... or care less later.

 

Sigh sharp, first door was jammed shut with debris, a baby crying… ..ugh… damn poop machines… she almost left it for the next door.

 

Stiff shove knocked the door loose, the mother on the floor unconscious under the black of hovering smoke, baby hurt as well.  Speed was inhuman, snatching a blanket from the back of the couch to toss over her shoulder, baby in one hand, mother over her shoulder… the balance of a gymnast bringing her back up the splintered beams to the roof and across the alley emptiness to the building behind it off of 44th  She lay both down, snapping the huge bright red, white and blue Yankees blanket to billow outward and hang over the edge of the roof to be visible by the police below- of they bothered to look up.  It was now up to them to get up there before the heat and percussion from the shattered building began to catch those on fire around it… and the game of time.  How many she could get out before they reached the roof to gather those she got out, and her risk of being seen was too high to retrieve any more.

 

Why?  She kept questioning why she continued to go back in.  With the way the world had treated her… the question was fresh on her temper.  She was not a hero, yet the nimble power that had saved her life and the lives of so many others during the Resonance still took her back into the building to retrieve more in the upper floors high above the street where none below could seem to do anything but contain and wander like morons… before the fire billowed upward to turn that into hell as well.  The building was coming down, it wasn’t a goliath like the newer ones, it was a remnant of the old glamour.  It would burn, and it would collapse down and out into the street where everyone was trying their damndest to do something, passing the fire onto the one next to it, then behind it where she’d put survivors on the roof.

 

The building shuddered under her feet. 

 

They were not going to get up there in time, too busy circle jerking with their fun procedures.  Phone was snapped open as she shouldered another door, finding dead… the next apartment unconscious as she pulled them up and over her shoulder.  Ninth floor was clear, did she dare into the 8th?  She lay them down on the roof behind the doomed building, taking a moment to breathe.  Sometimes she forgot she still had to.

 

[eris]Get in Dane’s chopper, do what you have to… promise him whatever you need to- give him the single engine... he won't know it doesn't run until after I'm done with his chopper....  Get it up on Broadway and look for the Yankee’s blanket.  Circle until I call you, stay out of the updraft and on the 44th side.  Do NOT try to land.[/eris]

 

Ahanu knew better than to argue… the silence speaking volumes. 

 

[eris]…aww fuck you, there was a baby, just do it.[/eris]

 

Eyes surveyed the white and tan roof decorated in slabs where she had deposited the sniveling survivors, then the delivery vans parked up there, calculating the weight in her head, looking up to gage the clearance of the high rise.  She could land it on the roof.  It was a stupid, risky and asinine move… but she could do it.  Push the vans off,  it was a tight fit,  it could be done.  By the way the crow flies, they'd get to the hospital faster.

 

God she hated people.

 

Phone slid away again, nimble figure now covered in soot disappearing once more into the collapsed roof… like a mama cat after kittens..  or some shit like that.

 

Damn it humanity…. fuck you.

[Sebastian Ardal]

As the rescue efforts arrived Ardal kept his focus on the building and lives inside.  More than once a police officer tried to move him only to be curtly informed he couldn't move until all of who could be saved were removed from the crumbling and flaming building.  It helped to be able to show credentials at least as well.  At least they were not stupid enough to question help that would result only in more lives being saved.

 

He started collecting some of the more reluctant rescuers via the ghosts.  Turned out that if you had a creepy dead guy behind you directing you things got done faster.  There was however things he could not get the workers to do he knew so he concentrated on the less dangerous areas of the building for now while hoping to free up those with more training and equipment to get to the more dangerous areas.

 

He noted the arrival of ARMA and mentally winced a bit.  Things were still sore between the Order and ARMA and he was hopeful he wouldn't get attacked on sight.  Considering the situation he was hopeful in that regard but there was more than a few hot heads in the younger organization and he was easily recognizable.  Even more so with the shiny ID and the lapel pin that told anyone with eyes that he was a sword of the Order.

 

That didn't matter right now though, what mattered was the lives to be saved, and he'd knock that sense into the rampaging children with his cane if required.

 

Just then one of his patrolling ghosts he'd sent hunting for survivors popped up.  She had once been a pretty thing and had died young.  Her clothes were from the age of flower children and free love and spectral blood covered the bottom parts of her.  Her distress was surprising until she started speaking.

 

[npc]"Coughing, wheezing, can't breathe...  Two souls clinging to each other and a little bear."[/npc]

 

Ardal could feel his stomach twist at the mental image.  A little bear translated to a teddy bear in his head which meant a child.  Even the dead got upset over that kind of loss.  "Where?"

 

The ghost pointed to a spot up higher in the building.  Not only was the smoke so think that one could barely see the structure but it looked to be on a more unstable part of the building.  Rescuers were not likely to take that gamble, ghosts pushing at them or not.

 

There was however some hope as he felt mana being pulled and twisted and used.  ARMA was obviously getting to workm  One of them moving into the building with an enchantment Ardal had seen used in a lab setting but not in the field.

 

One of these days Ardal really needed to see about learning some enchanting.  He recognized the   When he wasn't dealing with other spirits or trying to investigate his own Order perhaps.

 

For now it was enough to know that there was someone else who was a little more prepared about things.  He did not know if they would be opposed to following a ghost and hopefully not going to have a problem with him being there.

 

"There's a magus in the building.  Please direct them to where the two are, I'm going to need help getting them out." he told the ghost before waving her off to find whoever it was.

 

Since he was lacking in magical means for dealing with smoke inhalation Ardal moved and raided a nearby fire truck for some air gear.  It was heavy and unwieldily but he managed well enough for a moment.  It was mainly for the victims and him getting to them.  There was a firefighter that spotted him leaving and yelled after him to stop but Ardal ignored them as he hobbled himself into the crumbling building, cane in hand to help get people out.  It wasn't the smartest thing he had ever done to be sure but it was the right thing.  He reminded himself of that as he picked his way carefully through the building and started working his way up.

[Guest Saranna Weaver]

THIS WAS NOT HER FAULT!!!

 

For once the genetically modified super assassin was not to blame destruction on this level. No this was someone else entirely.

 

What a time for her to actually be out working on her "people skills" too, she was just walking down the sidewalk like any NORMAL person would be when the Earth shook under her very being as only a moment before the the concussive wave slammed her into body and throwing her clean off her feet into a random wall of some building with enough to force to pull the air from her lungs as the sky blackened from dust and debris start raining down around her. Had she NOT been, you know, enhanced by the Japanese Empire from her own world, that blast would have easily killed her. She considered herself lucky and that wasn't something she did often.

 

It took a moment for her to gather herself as her ears kept up that persistent ringing before she looked around a few moments, letting her eyes adjust to the decrease in both visibility and light round her before she started pushing various sizes of rubble off her body before she pushed her way up to her feet to inspect the damage to her body. Cuts from flying glass metal and various other forms of shrapnel, various points of blunt impact thats was sure to bruise later and she was pretty sure a rib or two was bruised as well as the muscles in her back because it hurt more than a little the breathe in air.

 

On top of that....her clothes were ruined, various rips and holes now adorned her clothes and THAT was what really upset her, ruined resources.

 

Note to self: Find bomber, compliment bomb, torture bomber, kill bomber after screams are boring. Pick up cheese.

 

With a few coughs from inhaling the dust saturated air she started moving forward with no real sense of direction, passing various bodies rip apart from the attack, death was nothing new to her and did little to her in any sort of emotional sense, her own ledger was red beyond belief and besides, something like THIS...wasn't beyond the scope of her either, maybe with a little more finesse.

 

[npc]Help me...[/npc]

 

The voice was weak, soft and somewhere nearby and she wasn't sure why but it caused her to pause for a moment and look for the source of the female voice.

 

[npc]Help....me...please...[/npc]

 

Now, she wasn't exactly sure why, she couldn't explain it later if you asked her, but she started moving towards the sound of the voice until she found the source of the voice. A female caucasian. No more than mid to late 20s with dust matted red hair who looked up at Saranna with sad, pleading and rather pathetic brown eyes from her spot in a turned over and ruined vehicle.

 

[npc]Thank God[/npc] The woman spoke. [npc] Please help me.[/npc] She was more talkative now upon seeing Saranna, the surge of hope perhaps? The pleadings woman's voice send a surge of rage through her body for reasons she couldn't understand. It was quickly suppressed as she moved towards the upside down car and gripped the door.

 

[saranna]Stay still, will be free shortly.[/saranna] With that said it was in a single yanked that the bolts to the door hinges groaned for only a fraction of a second before they gave up the fight and sheared apart as she tossed the door away.

 

The woman's eyes went wide with fear.

 

[npc]Oh my god you're altered! Don't hurt me![/npc] THe woman started screaming as Saranna knelt down near the woman as a new wave of anger flashed over her face but was again suppressed.

 

[saranna] Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP! Am helping you! [/saranna] She shot back as she wedged herself between the crushed roof and floor of the car and started lifting, like she was doing a deadlift. Metal groaned as it gave way and started reshaping under the pressure of Saranna's strength before Saranan reached for the spring assisted opening knife and cut the woman free from the seat belt that also had her pinned and pulled her free.

 

[saranna]Able to walk?[/saranna] She posed the question to the female who tried to stand and quickly collapsed in a cry of agony. [saranna] Leg is most likely broken.[/saranna] With an aggravated sigh she reached down and scooped the woman up and started carrying her out off the more dangerous areas.

 

[npc]Thank you[/npc] The woman muttered as the adrenaline that was fueling the woman depleted and she passed out.

 

If someone told her that she would be saving a life instead of taking them even only a few months ago she would have laughed at them; but her she was doing just that....

 

She almost hoped that she didn't run into anyone that she actually knew, she had a reputation to keep after all.

[Site Event]

As if it had waited for the array of cops and service crews to come to its glowing front door, the crackle of flames is interrupted by the violent eruption of three successive explosions on the roofline. Each a dirty-bomb launching metal shards like rifle fire down on the sidewalks and street below. This is more than simple destruction. This is hate fueled and intended to cause suffering.

Roof rocks making the upper floors unstable, debris falls down the stairwell beginning to make it difficult to get from floor to floor.

[Altheia Martin]

It had been an awfully long night for Altheia at her office in the ARMA headquarters. She had been trying to brush up on some interesting research that had been going around the medical world. She knew that mostly she could heal anything, but reading about different kind of medical approaches to different diseases and other illnesses always seemed to peak her interest. She had been looking around on the internet and had fallen asleep at her desk at about 7am. After a couple of hours of sleep she had woken up at about 3pm, feeling rather groggy at her mistake of not having a regular sleeping pattern. It was her plan to actually get to bed at a decent time today, even if that meant using the help of a sleeping pill. She had taken a shower and put on some different clothes that she kept at the office when she didn't feel like going all the way to her apartment. She had been in the middle of reorganizing files and doing some paper work when her cell phone went off. She reached over and picked up the phone, [altheia]Martin, here.[/altheia]

 

[npc]We need you down in Times Square.[/npc]

 

[altheia]Alright, I'm on my way.[/altheia] She hung up the phone and quickly got up, replacing her doctor's coat with her civilian one. If there was one thing she didn't like, it was walking around on the streets, flaunting that she was a doctor. After grabbing her purse and heading out of the office she dug her car keys out of her purse before she even made it to her black Chevelle. She pressed on the gas and made her way to Times Square already getting the feeling that something was completely wrong and after seeing more cop cars and other emergency personnel vehicles heading the same way it basically confirmed her worrying. After turning down the next street she saw the scene that was responsible for all of the chaos. Her mouth almost hit the floor of her car and then she realized why she had been called down to the scene. There would be a lot of people who would be more than likely hurt. Mentally though she reminded herself to not use her abilities too much and only when it extremely called for it.

 

She had spotted Alistair and pulled her car as next to his that she could. She got out of her car and looked at the building that had been affected by the blast. She slammed her door shut, but just stood there for a few minutes. It was just all she could do out of the sure shock of seeing the events. It seemed as though she would not be getting to bed as early as she thought.

 

"If you want back in, I'm going, and I've got a bubble of nonlethal air to bring with me. Just a thought."

 

After hearing Alistair she ran up beside him and looked over at him as he made his way into the building. She started to move toward him and the woman that had gone in with him, but then looked over at the area a safe distance away that was being made into a make shift hospital area. She was sure he'd be fine without her and knew that she would probably be more needed over at the hospital area. Right before she made the decision to head over to the area she heard the explosions go off and instantly opened her door back up, getting back inside to make sure she didn't get injured. After a minute or two she shook her head and got back out of her car, heading quickly over to the make shift hospital.

 

[altheia]I'm a doctor with ARMA, if you guys need any help I'm here to do so.[/altheia] She said to one of the medical staff from one of the local hospitals. They nodded at her and took her over to one of the people that had been brought to them only a minute earlier. She listened as the woman told her she had a broken leg and a few scrapes and cuts. [altheia]Okay. I can take it from here.[/altheia]

[Nailah Al-Ammar]

Nailah had been trying to calm a sobbing child when a new set of explosions rocked the very air. A new chorus of screams went up around her as the crowd tried to scatter further away from the building, some tripping over themselves and just making it worse. Nailah reacted as she had a thousand times, her void tattoos slithering out from their hiding place under her clothes and down her arm as she threw it up over her head to protect herself, her other arm snaking around the small boy who's cries only intensified. She had to call upon the Abyss to add to the shield that was forming over her and the child where she crouched against the pavement, by the time the debris began to rain down around them they two were perfectly safe beneath it's cover. Pieces of metal and cement made dull thuds as they bounced off her shield, the boy clinging to her in fear as she hummed softly in his ear. It was an old Arabic lullaby that her mother used to sing to her, and it seemed to be enough to calm his crying. Once the shower of debris had stopped, Nailah let her arm fall, the shield returning to the tattoos that she made no attempt to hide now.

 

"So much for keeping a low profile." She muttered as she stood up, lifting the child with her. The scene around her was certainly the stuff of nightmares, not everyone had magic shields to hide under and there were a lot of people who were going to need a lot of medical help. That wasn't exactly Nailah's talent but she knew enough field first aid to keep people alive till the real doctors showed up. "I'm Nailah, I know it's scary right now but I need you to be brave. Can you do that for me?" She asked of the boy, after a moment of hesitation he finally nodded. "We're going to find your mom but it might take awhile, and there are a lot of people who need help. Can you tell me your name?" The boy looked as if he were about to start crying all over again and Nailah swore he couldn't be older then four. [npc]Logan[/npc] He whispered to her and Nailah smiled, "It's nice to meet you Logan, let's see if we can help anyone else." She didn't really have anything with her to do that so she hiked over to the make shift med tent.

 

"I'm with ARMA, name is Nailah. Anyone have a spare first aid kit I can take with me? I can patch people up and send them your way." She asked the first person in a lab coat she ran into. [npc]Logan![/npc] Came a woman's voice from nearby. Nailah turned as Logan cried out in answer. Nailah turned to see a woman sitting nearby with her arms outstretched towards Logan. Nailah leaned down to set the boy on the ground so he could run to his mother. There was a familiar blonde standing next to her, though really it was familiar in the 'we work with the same supernatural police force kind of way' as the two hadn't actually met. Since her return, Nailah had been perusing the ARMA files, reacquainting herself with some and getting to know others. She'd miss a lot during her imprisonment and she still had a lot to catch up on. Nailah moved over to make sure Logan was alright. "I told you we'd find her." Nailah teased the boy gently with a warm smile to him and his mother who thanked her for finding him.

 

Nailah wasn't worried so much about blowing her cover, she'd had plenty of time to scan the crowd, whoever did this either wasn't here, or was smarter then your average pyro. "I don't think we've had the chance to meet, I'm Nailah Al-Ammar." She offered to Altheia. The person she'd approached about a med kit reappeared at her side before Altheia could respond however, holding out the kit to Nailah. She took it quickly so they could get back to their work. "I should get back out there, I'm glad you're OK." She told the woman again, with a smile to Altheia should she return the introduction before heading back out into the chaos, a little more armed for the task at hand.

[Rorye Shannon-Kearney]

She had to learn to drive.  Good.  God.  Another grind on the clutch and she was as close as she was going to get, street choked with debris.  She pulled it up onto the sidewalk and slammed the door behind her, the thin black yoga pants and track jacket no match for a bluster of wind that sent gooseflesh across her skin and whipped chestnut hair in a snap.  Feet were already moving, fingers at the nape of her neck to braid the mass of hair in a ponytail to a tight plait.  It was going to get ugly, and it was going to get ugly fast, turning the corner to step onto 43rd and get a first glance at the goliath of fire that was literally baking the blood on the streets.  Dark lashes blinked.  It was Kell’s all over again, Resonance shattered and dead everywhere... she'd seen this destruction before, throat swallowing a thick lump that had been tightening since she jumped into Nina’s poor abused car.

 

It was the site of Alistair’s empty Jeep that stumbled her thoughts from the panic gripped past, ripping them back to reality as mind scrambled into gear, a blonde’s words catching her immediate attention as she scanned the war zone and tried to identify who was there to help, and who needed it.  It was terrible, as if the Event had been crushed into one block and unleashed in worst case scenario.  What was set up before to be the cavalry was now reeling from shrapnel and falling debris, there was no one else coming.  Cops were hurt, EMT’s… firefighters…  were hurt.  Some ambulances crushed.  Everyone was already here, and whoever had done this had counted on it.  Skittering breath was pulled in, and she moved.  She pawed through her pocket and shoved a card into an EMT’s hand that was on a phone next to his battered ER bus.

 

“Every community center and shelter here to Hell’s kitchen is set up to take people.  Blankets, food, and local doctors are on their way.  There are three shelters within five blocks that are set up for medical, all supplies are headed there… the five community centers are for uninjured and separated families.  Food, water and blankets are on their way there too.  You all know where they are.”

 

He nodded to her and immediately picked up his radio to send the number to the other emergency vehicles.  Eyes scanned behind the tape and beaten barricades, then to Althea.  If she was ARMA, she was most likely a healer of some kind.  She didn’t know her from Adam, but it wasn’t relevant at the moment and she didn’t have time to explain that she’d been through this before… her neighborhood, and her people.  This time, THIS time she was going to do a better job, she wasn’t a child anymore and this was no longer her first disaster rodeo.

 

Attention was back on the blue that was working to rally every first responder that wasn't injured.

 

“I’m here to help.  I’m going to get people off the street and help you get your triage back up,” voice was quick, nodding toward the building behind them and what was left of a café.  Glass was out, windows were wide and low.  The bank next to it on the corner had wide lobbies.  The cluster of emergency personnel near them seemed the least damaged, and the most likely to be able to continue.  She raised her voice to the blue on the radio again.  “I’ll put high priority in the bank, low to the café and send the rest to the closest community center two blocks over.  Let me know what else you need.”

 

He nodded sharply, and she glanced back at Althea... "I'm Rorye, I'm gonna bring them straight to you ARMA," she said quickly and ducked under the tape into the smoke.

[Alistair Greene]

[alistair]'Sup, Ghost.[/alistair] Alistair said, nodding to the dog a moment... though there was definitely a strange aura hanging around it. Felt far more spirit than... oh. Duh, the Ghost name was literal, not a Game of Thrones reference. [alistair]Nice to meet you, Abby, I'm Alistair.[/alistair] He had a feeling, from the look she'd given him, that she knew that. Still, he hated to make assumptions about that sort of thing, nothing in the world made him feel like a bigger idiot than overestimating his own fame.

[alistair]Nothing else per se. I can hold this together for at least long enough to check and see if anyone else is alive in here, but I don't plan on staying long.[/alistair] As they made it through the lobby he felt a tremor in the building's foundation, and winced at the thought of what that was going to mean. He might have been an electrical engineer, not structural, but he knew Bad News when he heard it.

He was reaching out with his power while they moved, and became increasingly aware of the other spirits - besides the dog - that were moving in some areas of the building. He felt like he recognized that power... son of a bitch. One of the few who'd abandoned the rest when they turned on the Vatican. There was a special, dark place in Alistair's heart for that, but it wasn't something he cared to explore. If someone who'd fought by their side really trusted those megalomaniacal fucks more than him and his, that was their own business. Until they actually took up arms in support of the Inquisition, and he had to administer a ten thousand ampere attitude correction...

The firefighters were  moving in as well of course, having made it on scene a bit ahead of him, so he did his best, pausing a moment to gently move the smoke out of their way - the added visibility would go a long way to helping, as long as he didn't create gusts strong enough to fan the flames. And that was about the time the bombs went off.

[alistair]DOWN![/alistair] he snapped at Abby, dropping to a knee himself and clenching his left fist hard, willing significantly more power into the focus on his wrist. The silver shone brightly in the smoky air, and the wispy bubble he'd brought in with the smoke-free air took on a shine of its own in the instant before several bricks and large chunks of concrete fell from the ceiling, smashing into the barrier and glancing off it to the floor. He'd expanded it to cover the pair of firefighters with them, and he winced hard with each hit, but the shield held - at least for the moment.

[alistair]Oh, mother fucker...[/alistair] he breathed, already running through the scenario in his head. Was that what he thought..? The spirit had the bad timing to show up then, murmuring something he cut off. [alistair]Yeah yeah - Abby, can Ghost find out what this thing is on about?[/alistair] he asked, indicating Ardal's spirit, while he himself turned toward a door that someone seemed to be pounding on. [alistair]STEP BACK![/alistair] he shouted, before slapping his right hand against the lock. There was a sharp CRACK and a flash of light as the arc surged through the metal, melting the lock mechanism to scrap, and the magus kicked the door open. A pair of women stumbled out, sobbing, into the arms of the firemen who started to lead them out, and Alistair turned to the stairs.

[alistair]This isn't just a terrorist act, this is targeted, right at the police and everyone else trying to help.[/alistair] he said, half to Abby, half to himself. He didn't like where this was going... and he had some very dark thoughts on what to do when he found whoever was responsible. For now, he doubted Ardal was trying to lead him astray. He was at least partially sure the man wasn't that sort. If he was... well today would get more interesting. And it was already about interesting enough.

[Abernathy Wynn]

She gave the magus a half, dimpled grin. "Likewise." And soon, her smile vanished. Despite having some time to trade formalities, they were in quite a situation. She gave a quick nod, "I had the same plan." She nodded to the firefighers who'd gone in beforehand, dusk covered faces glancing from one familiar face to another before they gave their nods of acknowledgement and continued their work. Abby didn't plan on getting in their way, but she still felt like she had to do something. Finding survivors was one thing, but so was investigating. 

 

She didn't have a special sight or anything, but her senses were tingling rather faintly since her connection with Ghost. The husky moved ahead of them, staying within the barrier Alistair created. His ears were perked and on alert, hackles raised as his narrowed glacial eyes searched about the premises. His nose wrinkled since there was so much sulfur, but Abby noticed the smoke parting, making way for the firefighters. 

 

Tiny hairs rose on the back of her neck and she shivered despite the musky heat. Ghost barked then, clearly an indicator that he was aware of things that they couldn't see. Though, she wouldn't be surprised if Alistair could see some of the specters. The tremor was not meant to be a sound of comfort obviously. Abby glanced up with narrowed eyes, watching as slight debris rained from the ceiling from whatever was going up. Her eyes widened then with realization, and Ghost's barking increased as a warning. 

 

And down she went, on one knee so that she could brace herself to move a second's notice when the impact was over. Her hands felt unconsciously over the back of her neck, head bowed as the building shook from the second wave of explosion. Ghost had crouched low, rushing in a transparent wisp to nestle close to her side. She didn't look, but more so focused on her breathing although Alistair kept them protected in his magic bubble. She winced at each hit, but continued her steady breathing. 

 

Ghost rumbled softly against her, a low whine was in his throat. When the eruption ended, bits of debris now falling and the ceiling still intact, Ghost nudged Abby gently with his nose, a small wuffle telling her that it was over. The detective sighed and placed a quick kiss on his snout before standing, brushing the dirt and soot off her slacks. It was then that Ghost noticed his namesake. A spirit had made its presence, gesturing to Alistair and murmuring what appeared to be nonsense.

 

"Yes, actually. And lucky for you, I'm well-versed with speaking dog." She ran her fingers along the husky's back as he started forward, head canted and one ear perked as he listened to the specter's rambling. For as long as she's had the husky, she was gradually picking up on the 'paranormal.' Seeing silhouettes, hearing the low buzz of communication, and picking up on white noise, but she wasn't completely in tuned. Which was where Ghost came in. 

 

As Ghost was occupied, Abby moved out of the way to avoid what came of the door pounding. Two women stumbled out, and the firemen were there in time to escort them out. Abby took note of their appearances. The scratches and bruises, as well as some uniqueness. Abby took out her gun to check the clip before cocking the holster. 

 

"You think any of them are still inside?" She asked the magus, "and I'm sure they're targeting anyone associated with helping the tenants." At that precise moment, Ghost came to her side, barking. She glanced down, as he moved in a small circle and then straightened, pointing his nose at the ghost's direction. "I think the ghost wants us to follow it, Alistair." She looked from her dog and to the magus, noting the way he had turned to the stairs. "Unless you have something else in mind." 

 

It was dark at the very top. Abby couldn't get a good look from where they stood, but she figured if they were heading up, she was going to take lead. "I'll take point, and you'll be back up? Considering you got these nifty tricks, you won't make me regret trusting you at my back, hm?" And she started up, gun in hand, with Ghost in tow. 

[Johann Sebastian Eligius]

Charred... burnt to cinders... utterly melted. The plastic in which the bombs had been encased was useless to him. They'd been destroyed beyond recognition. [johann] Thermite charge?[/johann] The dragon would confirm his suspicions as best he could with the second round of explosives, located on a floor above him. He leapt up to a section of the ceiling which had fallen out, pulling himself the rest of the way onto the next floor. 

 

The dragon coughed. He may have been a creature of fire, but smoke was still not something he loved getting in his snout. Clearing the air in front with his clawed hand, Johann waded towards a sound he heard out of the corner of his ear.

 

[johann] Hold on! I'm coming![/johann]

 

He ripped open the door, and smoke poured out into his face. Fuck the smoke, seriously. [johann]Hello? Anyone in here?[/johann] Johann called out, pushing aside debris from the collapsing roof. A voice called out from the back corner, blocked by a collapsed metal pipe. [npc]Back here![/npc] followed by a bunch of coughing.

 

Metal claws burst aflame as Johann began to slice through the pipe and remove it. The civilian, once freed, collapsed. Johann doused his claws quickly and picked the collapsed figure up into a fireman's carry, bringing her out the door and down a level as quickly as possible. He continued his way down a series of holes in the floor and stairways, reaching yet another hole in the floor when he heard:

 

"...regret trusting you at my back, huh?"

 

[johann]Hello? You, down there? There are people still trapped on the upper floors. I'm going to lower someone down and head back up.[/johann] Johann wrapped the woman in a sort of harness of cables, lowering her down through the hole, making sure she was on the floor first, and detaching the cabling from his arm.

 

He stood, preparing to return to the upstairs and rescue as many more people as he could.

[Mana Aizawa]

Could anyone stare better than Mana?  

 

Mana had been frozen, maybe figuratively, or who knows, maybe even literally, staring at a mad, crazy, insane, loony woman muttering murderous things, frozen, staring, being just plain stupid when a . . . 

 

"Oh no! NO!" was all Mana said as three successive blasts shook her world, jarred the view of the woman from her sight and then WHAM! NOTHING! 

 

The next thing Mana knew was PAIN or was it spelled PIAN or PANE or PAINE because Mana was hurting and her mind was being "funny".  She was flat on her back--how she had gotten there she couldn't remember.  That was sort of funny too.  

 

Back to PAIN or PAIN to back: it wasn't one thing (pain that is).  It was multiple things.  There was this heavy, dull horrible pain across her back, leaving her unable to move, unable to sit up.  There was the pain the roils the innards and leaves one wanting to vomit.  And slowly there were new pains, pains that at first hadn't even registered--sharp specific, hurtful pains.  

 

Mana reached over a hand and extended a finger to one of those painful spots and felt a sticky, viscous, slippery liquid.  BLOOD Mana's brain registered.  

 

Then it struck Mana--why wasn't she seeing anything?  She was doing everything inside her head.  She tried opening her eyes but they didn't open.  She thought BLOOD.  That was bad and it was not just a drop either--it was a bucketful of blood.  

 

The pains that next registered were those from multiple lacerations.  That must be why the blood was outside her body and not inside it, Mana decided.  Okay, Mana told herself, scream.  

 

But Mana couldn't scream.  Her muscles didn't respond.  Her tongue and throat and jaw were unresponsive.  Shock!  She was going into shock she knew.  Scream, just scream, her brain ordered--then someone "nice" will come and save you.  But her brain no longer was in control of her various parts.  

[Guest Saranna Weaver]

Saranna was in rare sorts today, normally she would be off hunting down those that had done this but instead she was here helping this person that she was carrying in her arms as if she was nothing more than a rag doll,  this bitch needed to eat a ham sandwich or two because she wasn’t even struggling under the weight of the female who couldn’t possible weight any more than 120 pounds.   Yeah, she was going soft, she should be out hunting down those that did this to HER city and not helping this lady who was bleeding all over her clothes.   Grrrr.    The very thought made her angry and reflexively, she gripped a little tighter around the woman as she picked up more speed in her stride before seeing a woman who was claiming to be an ARMA doctor as Saranna approached.  [saranna]Here.[/saranna]  She said with almost no inflection in her voice as she spoked.   [saranna]Fracture in right leg, unknown location or extent of internal injuries.[/saranna] It was with that said that Saranna simply dropped the woman off at the makeshift field hospital before she went back into the fray of chaos.

 

It wasn’t even more than a few moments later that the next set of explosions rocked the world around her once again as her ears protested the loud noise once again by ringing, more dust and rubble was kicked up as she watched even more buildings yield to the explosive power of whatever was being used.  Something with a high rate of expansion for sure, whatever it was, was military grade and not homemade.

 

Her lungs struggled to get air from the dust and God knows what else saturated air and she found herself suddenly wishing that she had brought along her tactical gear like she always did. Yeah, she was going to find the person who did this and make them suffer for hours in the most horrible way she could imagine….which is saying a lot because Saranna could get VERY imaginative when she wanted too.    There was an angel no so long ago that knew first hand on imaginative Saranna could be….She was could at getting her pound of flesh from people.

 

In a single deep inhale that actually hurt, she pushed deeper into the flowing cloud of dust that blacked out the sun and in a sudden fit of laughter, yes...Saranna was capable of laughter….she was human, even if just.  We shall fight in the shade.   Another burst of laughter as a grin tugged at her lips as she pressed into dust cloud.  Hey! It was progress!  Granted, her new found and emerging emotions often turned into the macabre but whatever right?   She suddenly wanted a large shiny shield and a gladius, that would be perfect.

 

It was in her laughing trek that she passed more horribly broken bodies that the rubble had claimed, she stopped laughing.  Not because the sight of dead and twisted bodies brought her back to reality, no she was used to seeing the dead stacked in front of her, often it was herself that was causing the dead bodies to pile up.   No, she stopped laughing so she could hear the cries for help now that she was closer to “ground zero”.  Other than the sounds of the not too far off police and EMS sirens, fire and crumbling building...there wasn’t much else going on.  

 

She was just at the point to where she was going to turn back, go home and gather her gear and start a one woman hunting party for the asshole or assholes that had caused this and hurt them badly, very badly but she never got the chance because she she would happen happen upon a single female, oriental and young who alive but in rather rough shape, Saranna picked up her pace slightly before she went to kneel next to the woman.  The gentle and soft features of the woman greyed out with dust as the copper-like scent of blood filled Saranna’s nostrils, she wasn’t sure what it was but the smell and sight of blood turned her on.

 

Maybe it was the fact that she was Japanese, where she was from but that was a long story, that caused her to stop and check on her.  She didn’t even know if she was alive until she pressed her pointer and middle finger against the jugular and felt a weak pulse, the woman seemed unresponsive to Saranna’s presence, the woman was in shock and there was a fair amount of blood around the woman as well, either a bad class 2 or light class 3 incident.  [saranna]Can hear me?[/saranna] She spoke as she took off her shirt and started tearing into various strips and started applying torquinet to the most traumatic wounds and pressure bandaging the lesser wounds.  [saranna]Safe now.[/saranna] She offered a small measure of hopeful comfort to the woman, seeing if she could respond before she attempted to move the woman.

 

 

If only that angel she skinned alive could see her now.....

 

(Yes Mana....dat be you)  

[Eris London]

One more, and she was done.  Stopping for a moment to catch clean breath on the roof, dark eyes surveyed the several people she’d pulled out to the building next to the fated complex.  Hands rested on her hips, chin to her chest to regain her composure, the slap of rotors against the air in the darkness still a half mile off.  Seems Dane wanted her single engine plane.  Ash covered, ruined suit.  Destroyed new shoes.  Lost her chopper.  Owed a favor to a wanna-be mobster.  Someone was seriously getting boned for this….

 

One more sweep and she was a ghost, the last burst of energy launching her through the hole and down several floors to slide to a stop.  There was nothing else.  Scent of blood strong, there was no movement she could hear.  No other voices, no shuffling, no fading cries for help.  The hourglass sands for life were pretty much gone.  She could hear rescue floors below coming up from the ground level, seems they were working up while she was working down and…

 

What the fuck was that….?

 

Eyes narrowed. 

 

Son of a bitch- that was a new smell, and then it was gone- down through the hole blown straight down the center of the ill-fated apartments.  More voices, narrowed lashes peering down to try and make out exactly what had caught her attention in a vice grip.  The world was boring, people were boring, and mostly did stupid things to annoy her.  But this…  this!

 

One of these things was not like the other… by a long shot. 

 

She WAS right, waiting for the odd thing to come back up as it had promised.  Terrible time to be a curious cat, but there was really not much more she could do in terms of saving the world.  Ahanu could not land, or come near the site for fear of updrafting the fire through the top of the building more rapidly than it was already spreading.  It was only a matter of minutes before she hitched a ride on the “owe-you-one” train and was a memory to this shit storm.  She would at least stay long enough to take a peek because… things were so rarely interesting.

 

…and THIS was interesting.

[Mana Aizawa]

 Mana had heard or read once that all dreams were nightmares or ended in nightmares.  Still, generally Mana liked dreaming.  

 

When Mana opened her eyes, she saw . . . well . . . she thought she saw Summer Glau.  That was strange on several levels.  First, Mana had always loved Summer Glau (past tense)--idolized her, had wanted to be just like her, to be strong, and fearless and still be able to dance.  But, Summer was dead, or so Mana had assumed--long dead, dead since the Nexus happening.  Next, even if Summer wasn't dead, she would be in Hollywood, not in NYC.  

 

Mana had experienced dreams where she had woken (thought that she had woken), and then had woken again.  Yes, she had had a dream within a dream.  So, now she hypothesized she was still dreaming.  She decided that she was dreaming a dream within a dream. 

 

Somewhere in Mana's foggy brain she remembered hearing a woman's voice say  ☩"Can hear me?"  

 

Summer was an apparition--Mana was fairly certain--but the question was interesting.  And more interesting still was that  the woman looking at her was NOT wearing a coat.  Worse, her blouse was shredded and Summer (or whoever it was) was surely going to die from hypothermia.  She looked like hell--even for Summer Glau.  

 

Thinking of coats, Mana remembered her last thought--her 22nd hand coat was ruined.  When Mana finally spoke, and speaking was harder than it should have been--something about her muscles feeling like they were frozen--she said, "Is Sarah Connor here too?"  Then Mana tried moving and winced--her back was certainly wrenched badly and she felt woozy, weak.  

 

Mana was not normally funny and almost never sarcastic so she immediately felt regret at having asked the question she did.  And she was now pretty sure she was not dreaming--the pain was returning and it was too real for a dream.  

[Sebastian Ardal]

Ardal had been moving as fast as the oxygen tank and his bad leg would allow.  The smoke in this part of the building was horrendous and he could only guess that had something to do with the renovations that had been going on.  Chemicals that promoted thicker smoke or the like perhaps.  

 

The second blast caught him off guard, causing him to tumble and a fall.  One of the beams from above came down and crunched into his left side and Ardal let out a cry of pain.  As he struggled for a moment before pushing it off him more.  He didn't have to look at his arm to know it was out of socket before he popped it back in and from the pain in his side he was willing to bet he had a few bruised ribs...dammit.

 

Left with a choice of abandoning the oxygen tank or his cane he opted to leave the cane.  He could always make another or get another and he could still use his magic even without it, if a little more sloppy.  He wouldn't last long if he couldn't breathe though and it was likely to be needed with the victims.

 

The tank became a cane in a way as he hobbled forth.  He could hear a child crying now and hoped the spirit he had sent would get help.  With his left side being almost useless he was worried about getting out.

 

That, was to say nothing of the havoc being in a burning building was playing on his mind.  More than once he thought he was back in his father's house, some dull decorative sword dangling from his fingers as he marched forward to try and save his sister.  It burned in his mind as bright as an ember and just as painful as he followed the sound of crying, remembering the pleading that had followed.

 

Not again...please...

 

It was hard for a moment to connect to the sight he came upon.  A woman on the ground with her daughter shaking her and pleading for Mama to wake up between coughs.  Somewhere in his mind Ardal knew he should say something but instead he moved forward like one of the z-infected monsters that lurked outside of civilization.  Except he was not interested in taking lives...at least not today.

 

He took a deep breath before he set the tank down and pulled the mask off, switching it to the child.  Cold eyes narrowed as he could sense the soul leaking away from the body of the woman in front of him.  She'd be dead before he could get her out of the building though he couldn't say if it was lack of oxygen or some other injury.

 

Death at least, was something he could fix.

 

He had not managed this particular feat since the debacle at his father's house when the Order had found him in the first place.  He had heard about it and had a concept of how it worked but there was a certain amount of fear when one started trading lives around.

 

He looked to the little girl that was blinking up at him, part hopeful and part terrified.  He gestured for a turn with the oxygen quickly taking another breath before giving it back.  He wished he could have waited for that back up he had sent the spirit to get him but they needed to move now.

 

He murmured under his breathe, pulling all the magic he could muster and then reaching further than most magus could.  It was a trade off though as he felt the wounds he had gotten from the original blast tear and widen until the blood was flowing more freely.  Even with the death in this place to amplify matters he was reaching to far and flying to high.  

 

Ardal would have done it any day of the week.

 

A sickly green mist formed around the dying woman, intensifying for a moment as Ardal extended a hand and seemed to grab onto it and pull it, at first gently and then harder.  The woman twisted in agony, because even if he could stop a soul from leaving he couldn't actually heal her.  She'd likely have nightmares the rest of her life about it as well as her daughter having to witness this but it was better than leaving the little girl an orphan to his mind.

 

He tangled the soul up, chaining it to the body as it gave such an awful wail that her daughter clamped her hands over her ears.  Ardal supposed if there was ever a wail of the damned it would be of a soul forced to stay in a miserable existence.

 

The glow wrapped around the woman's body like a chain and extended to his hands as he set them on her, lifting her over his good shoulder.  He had to keep a hand on her for this to maintain and if he lost his focus on the soul she was as good as dead.  Even better he still had to navigate his way back out with the little girl and his own life putting him on a very drastic timer to get this done with a bum leg and bruised ribs.

 

He really could use that back up.

 

Thinking that said back up was busy though he set a hand on the tank and grunted, his face pinched in concentration that said nothing of the steel will that refused to let Death claim two more today.  He nodded to the little girl, tugging on the tank and mask like something of a leash though he dearly wished otherwise.  Her terror had her rooted to the spot before he managed a tight smile.

 

"We can get out of here, we need to move," he told her with a cough, trying to coax her along though a burning building.  He would have carried her if he could have but he was at the end of his considerable resources.