EVENT: SHAKE THINGS UP.

[cuddlemods]

EVENT: SHAKE THINGS UP.

It starts with a roll of thunder. At least, that’s what you think it is—a low growl through the atmosphere that seems to echo deep and low in your chest—as you turn over in bed, or perhaps as you’re finishing your last drink at a local pub with some new acquaintances, or even as you’re walking home on otherwise safe streets, lamps and moonlight guiding your path. All’s well that ends well: the city is your haven, it’s been sold to you as such, and a little stormy weather never did much harm. You close your eyes. You take a drink. You turn the corner. But the sound continues, the vibration grows more oppressive, and you may think to yourself: Thunder shouldn’t shake my nightstand. Thunder doesn’t send a pulse through the tequila in a shot glass. Thunder wouldn’t compel the asphalt to rumble and churn beneath my boots. It all happens very quickly after that; things fall apart. The cheers of late-night partygoers tumble into a minor chord, sliding into screams—a party of five has just lost sight of two of its members as Main Street splits itself in zigzags rippling out from the city’s center. One side surges into the air as the other half plummets several feet down, small ravines forming along the thoroughfare. The damage replicates itself like dominoes, and citizens new and old alike cry for help into the empty night. Someone is hanging onto the edge of one jagged, yellow-striped mound of asphalt, fingers slipping, grip temporary. Do you know them? Do you help? Within minutes, buildings begin to buckle under the stress of the earth shifting. Metal and concrete siding, roof tiles, window panes—what first sounds like cannon fire clearly presents itself as establishments crumbling while panicked citizens race to covered positions or out into the chaos of the openly shaking streets for any semblance of safety. “Earthquake!” You hear. “Cover your head!” The tallest buildings suffer the most damage (the bigger they are, the harder they fall). At the city’s heart, the clock tower sinks almost gently down as if feeling faint, seeking solace in the skirts of its foundation. People blink in shock as the dust rolls over them moments later. Victims covered in soot and debris, looking for all intents and purposes as if they’d been disturbed from their graves, disperse across the city, trying to reach the authorities, to find their loved ones. It’s clear that amidst the rubble, both formed and newly falling, some of these loved ones are trapped. You hear desperate, muffled calls, buried beneath layers of shattered stone and cement. Voices struggling to be heard through the ongoing shriek and groan of the earth… still… shaking. One of these voices may even be your own. Are you near? Can you lead someone to safety? Can you pull victims from the rubble? Are you, yourself, in trouble? The city bank’s vault is loose, no doubt. The shops are in trouble, security gates destroyed. Do you take advantage while you can? Whatever you decide, watch for the emergency vehicles and fire trucks barreling their way toward the center of destruction, rescue crews ready to spot those in need. Perhaps you can help them. Perhaps they can help you, instead. (Perhaps they can apprehend you, too, if you misbehave and don’t cover your tracks.) The rumble continues, curls its way like a fist further out towards the city limits, losing ferocity as it does, but it takes the temporary housing district for its final victim. The city’s newest arrivals won’t get much sleep tonight. Rifts in concrete walls crawl their way from the ground floors, up, all vine and sinew and spider web. Some are more severe than others. While the first floor rooms may find more damage to their walls, bedroom windows bursting as foundations tilt, the upper floors will see things end up just a hair off in balance—askew. Put a glass of water on the table, and it may not stay in one place for long. Surely the building isn’t safe enough to sleep in, not now. Can you make it safe? Can you reach out to your neighbors? How do you manage? Three hours after the initial disturbance, long after earlier news programs had urgently advised all city dwellers to take due cover during the apparent earthquake, a crackling message filters through across television screens, electronic billboards, and on your city-issued devices. Mayor Drake sits in full view in front of the Energem, the symbol of the city, its life force. It is in one piece, from the looks of it, and so is she (if understandably haggard and dark around the eyes). “Citizens of Cadelle, as you know, we’ve suffered quite the seismic anomaly this evening. Tectonic plate shifting is not abnormal in a city so near the coast, but we had yet to experience an earthquake of this magnitude in all our recorded history. Although most of the damage was focused towards the city’s center, that center was hit hard.” The side of her mouth twitches minutely, as though she is biting back further words, and instead, she plasters on a smile of pure grit. “Our top tier seismology center is already on the case, and the administration will keep you informed of any significant findings. In the meantime, we wish to thank all our rescue workers and volunteer citizens who helped our loved ones find shelter and safety. Please be advised we will begin reconstruction of our Community Housing Facility immediately. Volunteers to assist with this project, and with the restoration of privately owned establishments along Main Street, are welcomed, even encouraged. After a more in-depth assessment, we may be able to create paying job opportunities for the duration of this project. Please stay tuned.” A constructive spin on this tale couldn’t hurt, could it? “For now, we wish for you to stay safe. Food and shelter accommodations at the public gymnasium are being made ready for those of you currently left without rooms. We apologize for the communal nature of these accommodations, but it is the best we can provide on emergency notice. We appreciate your patience, and your help.” And with that closing remark, the feed cuts. Mayor Drake’s shoulders slide out of their poised position, and she bows her head, hand over her brow. Behind her, unbeknownst to anyone, the Energem flickers—just once. On the far side, beneath the cover of the protective wall, a small fissure has formed in the crystal surface. A kinetic rift. For more in-depth information about this event and how it affects your character, to ask event-specific questions, and to plot with your fellow players, please visit the event's OOC PLOTTING POST.

Comments

daisy johnson ( ota )

[foreshock]

a. ( ʟᴀᴅɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇᴍᴇɴ ᴛʜɪs ɪs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴀ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴇʀ. )

( She isn't expecting it. For the most part, every single time she's felt the earth shake beneath her feet it's been because of something other than an earthquake. Such is the peril of being a SHIELD agent, people are often destroying property and trying to knock you on your ass. So it surprises Daisy, when the starting vibration of the ground reaches her, a drink halfway to her lips and a conversation she'd been involved in failing to reach her ears.

Her first thought is that she isn't wearing her gauntlets, her second is that no one else seems to notice the rumbling.

She's turning instinctively, surveying the weak points of the room, the crowds that are still gathered. There are too many people. And it was stupid of her to think she wouldn't need to be Agent Johnson here. It was reckless to put Quake aside, hanging it up like her leather jacket. She needs to act and she needs to act now. ) Get away from the windows! ( The music drowns out her shout, and Daisy doesn't stop to think before she's sending a blast through the DJ set. It explodes, but at least she's got everyone's attention. ) Get down. Now.

( And then the bar starts to tremble in earnest, glass rattling on the shelves, chairs skittering across wooden floors. Daisy grabs whoever's nearest and drags them behind the bar. ) Cover your heads! ( She sinks to her knees, palms pressed to the ground as she tries to take most of the impact. The pain rattles through her, bones bearing the brunt, but it's not enough, she's not reaching far enough. )

b. ( ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ʀᴜʙʙʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴜsᴛ. )

( Once she's managed to get everyone clear from the bar and away from any buildings, Daisy heads into the city properly. She uses her powers to hurtle herself into the air, taking massive leaps over collapsing buildings before landing where she's needed. By now she's sure she's fractured her arms to hell and back, the teeth gritting pain of it a constant niggling distraction.

If Jemma were here then she's had several colourful ( well, for Simmons at least ) words to shout her way. But she's not, and people are hurt, so Daisy isn't exactly thinking about herself. Throwing herself into action, Daisy directs her tremors towards the falling chunks of debris that are about to take someone's head off, shattering it into tiny pieces. Or maybe she's finding people who're trying to take advantage of the chaos around them, pulling them back from expensive looking building fronts as unstable foundations still shiver. )

You see anything that's bigger than you are? ( Are you listening? She's very tense. This is a very stressful situation. ) Stay away from it.

c. ( ɪ ᴘʀᴇᴅɪᴄᴛ ᴀɴ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜǫᴜᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ. )

( It's safe to say she's not exactly feeling peachy keen by the time she finds her way to the gym. Daisy's spoken ( read: argued ) with anyone who decided to stay in their buildings, picking up stragglers and panicked citizens on her way, and now all she really wants to do is sleep. Or maybe find somebody to fix the broken bones in her arms. Yeah, she should probably do that before the sleeping part, if she's honest.

She can't help the feeling though, that people are looking at her a little funny. Anyone who saw her in action during the moments leading up to the earthquake are giving her a wide berth, whispering under their breaths as she passes. It's enough to make her neck prickle and her stomach twist, because honestly? She's a little done with being seen as the bad guy. Whatever. They're just going to have to deal with it as she finds a way to a cot, arm cradled carefully in front of her. Daisy's eyes close when she sits, head falling back to rest against the wall with a thunk. Just a minute, she'll move in a minute.

It doesn't take long before she feels someone approach. Daisy heaves a tired sigh without opening her eyes. ) This better be important. It's been a long day.

d. ( sᴏ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ɢᴏ ᴡᴇ ɢᴏ. )

( Find me at athosing or here for plotting purposes. )

c.

[acuerdo]

[robbie'd spent the vast majority of his evening shuttling people to safety, often having to argue with stubborn manly types who felt like they were more than equipped to handle falling debris and downed power lines. more than once he has to bite his tongue to keep from saying a smug i told you so to someone as a lamp post falls over or a crack in the pavement widens considerably. needless to say, by the time he makes it to the community center, he's bone tired. his hair, skin, and beloved leather jacket are coated with dirt and dust, and robbie swears he can taste smoke lingering on his tongue. he wants to just pass out, wake up tomorrow feeling refreshed, and continue on with the rescue efforts.

there's a gash on his cheek, a present from a piece of exposed rebar that he'd run into while saving a small child earlier in the evening. it's not bleeding anymore, but he's waved off anyone who has bother to ask him about covering it. there's no need, come tomorrow, it'll be gone without a trace. he meanders his way through the crowded mass, in search of a free cot where he can lay his head down and catch a few precious hours of sleep when he finally sees her. he'd recognize that head of hair anywhere. daisy's eyes are shut, one arm resting limply at her stomach, and the other is bent behind her head. he lets out a sigh of relief, a breath he hadn't know he'd been holding in. robbie drops to a kneel beside her.]

Glad to know you're not still out there... [trapped or worse dead is what he doesn't say, but thinks in his head, brow furrowed as he catalogs her appearance.]

b

[dedikated]

Know how this works.

( It's easy to feed off someone's tension, moreso when your own is bubbling under the surface, the result of falling from heights that hurt no matter how reinforced and ~beyond your body is supposed to be. Kate probably - okay, definitely - shouldn't growl and snap at the girl like a wounded dog, but reflex wins out, the one that says that this is a disaster and she doesn't have time to deal with people trying to play hero. )

c

[notthatgirl]

[There was little the Good Witch felt she could do in a situation like this- she's a public figure. All she could really do was put on a smile and inspire hope in others. Or rather, that's all she's felt capable of in the past. She had fictitious power in exchange for keeping her actual power under wraps.

That wouldn't do here. There was a distinct click of heels as Glinda walked through the gym to check on others, Grimmerie held tight against her chest with one hand, wand in her other. She stops just in front of the other woman, sinking to her knees so she's looking up at her rather than down, skirt pooling around her.]

I just wanted to check if you have any wounds... If there's anything I can help with?

kimberly hart • open

[recoined]

❱ that's not a hologram.

( okay, so it's not putties either. an earthquake is less of a thing you can actually fight, which puts her at a little bit of a disadvantage, but she can still help. well, kimberly hart probably shouldn't help, at least not if she wants to keep her identity a secret, but the pink ranger can, even without her zord or the rest of her team.

so it's in her armor that kimberly practically bounces across town, scoping out the damage and doing her best to help anyone who seems like they need it. things falling and potentially crushing someone or something underneath? no big, she's here, even if the weight shoves her down into a split in the process. luckily, she's flexible. )

❱ but we're still a team.

( when all is said and done, and the first wave of rescue efforts are completed, kimberly finds her way back to the housing complex to scope out the damage. her third floor apartment isn't quite as bad as the lower floors, but her furniture has seen better days and her clothes have been dumped from their previous homes in drawers and closets. staying here just isn't an option.

she sets up shop in the gymnasium, staking out a ring of cots for herself and friends — blankets and pillows are laid out in advance, and kimberly leaves herself flanked on either side by the two people she wants closest to her. clary on the right, marked by the pink and gold blanket they'd huddled under one night at the park, and zack on her left, kimberly's black leather jacket his symbol. there are a few more cots marked within her radius, too, for anyone else — (cough, jace, cough) — who might need an excuse to stay close.

if she hasn't heard from someone by the end of that second day, kimberly will send out a concerned text or two: )

are you okay? lmk

❱ et cetera.

( need something? want something? hit me up here, or holler at yo girl @ semicolons )

( o2. ish. )

[creatio]

( There's a noise, from Kimberly's right, the squeaking of sneakers against the gymnasium floor and a shout of her name as something hurtles towards her. Either the sound, or the streak of bright orange, should alert her in time before the other girl is flinging arms around shoulders and pulling her into a tight embrace. )

You're okay.

( For someone who finds it difficult to make friends, Clary's ride or die the minute you are one, and so her concern is real and legitimate as she pulls back, eyes roving over Kimberly's face. )

I checked the apartments and I couldn't find you. ( And she was clearly very, very worried. Worried enough that she's still holding on to her friend. At least she doesn't look too worse for wear - neither of them do - the only sign Clary's been caught up in anything is the dirt on her clothing. Runes help. )

robbie reyes ▸ota

[acuerdo]

i. come with me if you want to live.
[robbie's no stranger to earthquakes. east los angeles might not be right on top of the san andreas fault, but he's definitely felt the ground rumble for reasons other than daisy johnson having a bad day™. he's working out at sucker punch (it's leg day and much as he hates it, he never skips leg day,) when the earthquake rips its way through main street. at first he figures it's nothing major, a practical joke by none other than his friend and the one person he knows from home who is here, but when the screams of citizens trickle in his ears, robbie knows this isn't all fun and games. there's something serious going on, and if he doesn't do anything about it, people will actually get hurt. the prudent thing to do would be to head away from the rumbling.

but that's not robbie. he heads straight toward the danger, hopping into his charger without a second thought, and burns rubber as he heads toward main street. he drives around, eyes darting all across the road looking for people who need a way out. he spots someone looking rather frantic, face pale under the faint glow of street lamps. robbie slams on the brakes just a few feet away and leans over to open the passenger door.]

Hey. Hop in and I'll get you out of here.

ii. i can fix it.
[fade in to robbie reyes clad in a white ribbed tank, faded blue jeans, and a very necessary pair of clubmasters. the practical wardrobe probably should've been a pair of coveralls, but the weather is warm, and robbie's sweaty from helping clear rubble. he's taking a much needed break for the moment, heading toward a cooler filled with ice cold bottles of water. he pulls one from the cooler, dumping half its contents on his head before he drains the rest.

he wipes his face off with the bottom of his shirt, running a hand through his hair. it's then that he notices that a short line has formed behind him and he's (more than) kind of in the way. he has the decency to look a little sheepish as he cracks the cooler open again and offers a beverage to the next person in line.]

Sorry about that. It's way hotter than I was expecting. Drink?

iii. wildcard.
[want a custom starter, or have something else in mind that you want to run by me? swing by my thread at the ooc plotting post or contact me via plurk]

I

[neutronium]

[Hux is still gripping onto his cocktail, and he does not look frantic just--...concerned. There is a difference, thank you very much.

And he is very concerned about this car that comes to a stop so quickly near him. He frowns and leans down, eyeing the other man suspiciously.]

Getting into a stranger's car, when they are driving irresponsibly on unstable roads after such an incident?

Why do you think this is safe?

[He isn't saying no.

He just is suspicious(tm)]

kate galloway. ota.

[dedikated]

one/ black holes fill this empty space
( Exploring the city by rooftop - jumping from one to another with leaps that push the muscles in her legs and the power coursing through her body to their limits - quickly becomes habit for Kate, in the same way it was back home. Finding pathways across the city to avoid the traffic down below, to get from point a to point b without having to skid to a halt for oncoming cars or weave around a crowd of people. Up here there's nothing but the wind in her ears and the thrill of making it from one building to another.

The first signs of the quake come just as she misjudges distance between two buildings on Main Street, a grunt of pain as her body flies right into brickwork and her fingers manage to grip the edge of the roof before the building shakes, trembles from deep within in a way that's all too familiar- )

Shit.

( Kate lets go without giving it another thought, pushing off the building and trying to make out the ground below her, looking for people or objects in her way, or how badly the ground is tearing itself apart.

She's seen earthquakes, been stuck underground as they've happened, but never anything of this scale. Nothing where the buildings begin crumbling like dominoes and the ground begins splitting. )

Move!

( A barked command to a person she'll hit if they don't shift, voice grating in her throat. She doesn't raise her voice all that often, doesn't let alarm tear it out of her - opts for silence and measured tones most of the time - but there's no other option as she crashes to the ground below, bones and muscle aching as they hit the pavement, shock absorbed by superhuman abilities that just about save her the hassle of broken limbs.

Surrounded by buildings that are beginning to turn to dust and ground which splits apart like the morning clouds bending to the will of the sun.

Well. Shit. )

C'mon. Got to go.

( It could be anyone, but right now? She's not leaving them to work their way out alone, reaching for an arm. They have to get out of here, now. There's no time for introductions or small talk. )

two/ it took everything to give everything
( The effects seem to dissipate the further away from the city you are, which gives Kate a moment to catch her breath. She pushes pink hair back out of her face and stretches her arms with a wince, the dull ache of crashing to the ground a still-present twinge in her limbs.

But the city finally seems still. It's quiet long enough that Kate begins to pick her way - via the streets, rather than the rooftops - towards the Gamma building. She's not sure what she expects, hopes that they're still standing but knowing her luck-

Well. She doubts that very much. )

... Gettin' th' feeling summat wants me to move out.

( Is the only comment she makes as she enters the building, slowly edging through rubble and debris. First she's given the wrong key, then comes this. The ground floor is a mess, bits of concrete making it impossible to access the stairs, and Kate exhales before she pushes it slightly, the sound of cracking plaster and the dust of broken building a cloud that falls over her. )

Guess not.

( She doesn't bother to try again, almost resembling a ghost more than a human with the sheer amount of plaster dust coating her, eliciting a coughing fit. )

three/ i'm rude but i'll give till my last dime
( Feel free to check out the plotting comment, hit me up at forethought, or just throw some random starter here and let me love you. )

leonard snart ▸ ota + starters

[atms]

SHAKE RATTLE AND ROLL.

[ leonard had been taking a nap when all this went down. and, seeing as he lives on the bottom floor of gamma building, he ended up getting the brunt of it. it's not bad, not in the grand scheme of things. but bits of drywall and furniture topple over and leave him, well. trapped in his bedroom with a very sore ankle.

pushing through pain is a familiar thing, but even with his high tolerance, leonard isn't quite able to move the dresser that's fallen in front of his door, or the chunk of drywall that fell in front of the window. after long moments of trying, he gives up. sits on the floor, elevating his ankle, and pulls out his phone. ]

( un: elsa )

SOS. Gamma, South unit, floor 1. Stuck in the bedroom thanks to falling ceilings and furniture. Will buy a drink for whoever can get me out of here.

AND POOF! TURNED THEM ALL TO STONE.

[ though he's absolutely planning on moving out as soon as that's a viable option, leonard is still stuck in the gym for at least one night. and, though he's not entirely sure how it happened, (this is a lie, he knows exactly how it happened, it was a granola bar and a snarky comment) he's managed to gain a little entourage of about four kids between the ages of eight and twelve. they sit on the floor next to him as he lounges in a folding chair, air casted ankle propped up on another, listening intently as he spins a yarn. ]

There we were, soaking wet, the sprinklers going off but the alarms still cut, half the manager's office in flames and it wasn't even our fault. Now, I don't know if you've ever been in a thick wool sweater and got caught in the rain, but it's real damn uncomfortable. Clingy, itchy, heavy, and about a million other things I could mention.

So now I gotta somehow manage to sneak down the stairs to the vault while looking like a drowned rat and my boots squeaking with every step I take. It was like a dog toy--squeak, squeak, squeak.

[ the kids at his side giggle. it's probably not the best idea to regale them with tales of heists and capers, but they're entertaining. and some of them don't even need much cleaning up to be... well. as close to age appropriate as they can get.

leonard pauses, taking a sip of water and using the action to hide his smile at the reactions of his tiny audience. now would be a good time to interrupt. ]

ET CETERA.

[ starters for specific people will come in threaded comments! if you want a specific thing, feel free to hit up my plotting comment or ping me on plurk or discord: lyn#3878 ]

for sara.

[atms]

[ contrary to popular belief, len's not actually an ice-hearted bastard. cold, yes. not very outwardly emotional, yes. and definitely not a people person. but he's not made of stone. with the city in panic mode (and with both his life on the line and his planned theft of at least a mattress) it's hard to resist the urge to help out. but he's just about useless in rescue and relief situations. especially since he sprained an ankle.

there is one thing he knows he can do, though.

he meanders his way to the hospital and charms one of the nurses at the front. they need help, and he's got a certain set of skills that make him pretty damn useful. it's a good match. nurse able loans him a pair of scrubs since his clothes are all covered in ash and leads him to a certain wing in the hospital.

luckily, there aren't many occupants of the nicu and a handful in the attached nursery. but there's enough little ones there that need looking after while some of the nurses get co-opted for other jobs and new parents recover and try to sort out their lives. it's been a while, but he slides into the familiar motions for caring for a tiny like slipping into a worn pair of shoes.

he's sitting in a rocking chair with a little girl in his arms, head pillowed on his chest, when he gets a text from sara checking in on him. with a free hand, he types out a quick I'm fine. Helping @ hospital. and sends it, not really thinking much of it. certainly not expecting her to come see him in person.

but she does. and he's caught flat footed and off-guard as he catches sight of her in the doorway, the song he'd been humming softly coming to an abrupt stop. ]

You could've just texted back.

Kieren Walker | OTA

[depressiveoptimist]

(a) Apartments

[Kieren is awoken by the earthquake, nearly being shaken out of his bed. It takes him a moment to figure out what is going on, and to not panic over it. He's never been through something like this before, but after ensuring that nothing is wrong with him (no broken bones, no torn skin), he starts to slip on some clothing, and grabs his med kit before heading out of the building. He doesn't know much about this sort of situation, but from what he remembers from movies, staying inside isn't a good idea.

Seeing someone in the hallway, he reaches out to touch their arm--]

Are you okay? Have you seen anyone else?

[There doesn't seem to be a lot of damage but who knows. People get hurt in lesser things all the time.]

(b) Museum

...damn.

[Kieren sighs and shakes his head as he looks over the mess in the Art Museum. Paintings have fallen off the wall, there is rubble everywhere. Some of the canvases are torn, and he isn't sure if they can be repaired--it's a shame. Still, if they can be salvaged, Kieren is going to try.

Walking with his awkward gait, he starts to carefully pick up one of the paintings, touching the torn fabric gently.

Hearing a sound behind him, he turns--]

Can you help out?

(c) Gym

[Now this is where Kieren feels incredibly awkward. It reminds him of when they had first been rounded up and sent to Norfolk, and while that is not this, by a long shot, he can't help but feel...nervous over the situation. Gripping at his medication bag, he heads towards one of the cots in the far corner, trying to find something relatively out of the way of most people, not wanting to be obtrusive. Which, being undead, isn't always easy.]

c

[proscribed]

[Credence had been sitting on his own cot, alone, for about twenty minutes before he falls asleep.

There's a lot of people around, but he hadn't felt unsafe at that moment. He has his phone in his hand, having sent out texts to everyone he knows - now it's a waiting game; they're either on their way or haven't answered yet. He wakes a little later, to a bunch of missed messages and he stands up, rubbing his eyes as he looks around the room.

Kieren. In the back, towards the wall. Credence stumbles over his bag on the ground, quickly rights himself and politely squeezes himself through everyone. When he's almost there he freezes, body tense.]

Kieren, I. [He'd been so worried. He can't pinpoint the exact moment he'd let the other so deeply in or how it happened so fast, but he cares about him and he doesn't question that. Credence wants to reach for him.] Are you okay?

clark kent | ota

[elscion]

a. another hero, another mindless crime

[Clark felt it coming at the edges of his senses. A rumbling like thunder that came from beneath rather than above, his keen sense of hearing picking it up before it became much of a motion. He'd been through earthquakes before, he'd saved people in earthquakes before. But Clark hadn't saved anyone in a while.

In the face of danger, especially danger of this kind, Clark knew that certain things needed to be done. In this instance that thing which needed done involved pulling a long-forgotten and recently repaired costume out of a wardrobe. The last time he'd worn this thing he'd died, but Clark Kent was more than just a man after all, he was a Kryptonian living under a yellow sun that'd learned a lot of things about doing the right thing. Regardless of his own feelings on being Superman, Kal-El knew that it was time to bring that old suit of armour back into the world and help people.

There's the soft explosion of displaced air as he launches himself skyward, heading from the residential area to Main Street, a grim expression of determination on his face as he plummets towards the rapidly opening ravine, grabbing hold of a hand just before the person dropped into the hell beneath, pulling them to safety.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No its that Clark Kent guy with his hair slicked back, totally unrecognisable.]

b. I guess I'm learning, I must be warmer now

[Clark relocated to the gym if only to be around people. Putting on the suit changed his perception of things; since his arrival in Cadelle he'd thought there would be no need for Superman or really even Clark Kent, his aliases had served their purposes back in Metropolis but it was an entirely different ballgame here. It was strange for him, after all, considering how things had been back when he last donned the suit.

He'd gone from being both publicly revered and then publicly hated to sacrificing himself for the same people who reviled his efforts. It meant that giving up Superman here had been something easy for him to do, especially when he'd been thinking there'd been no need for it. Now though, he knew that particular identity was important in all aspects of life. He had the duty to help people.

His quiet introspection makes way for a somewhat serious, almost grave expression on his face. His hair was tousled back into something closer to Clark's normal but the glasses had been forgotten for now, his suit back at his apartment where thankfully nothing was ruined; one of the perks of living with an upper floor.

In his current state he could probably do with a friendly face, a conversation to bring him back to reality.]

c. outside the dawn is breaking

[When morning came and the aftershocks of the earthquake had finally cleared Clark can be seen helping clear the rubble. He looks the same way he would any busy afternoon on the Kent farm back in Smallville: a plaid shirt rolled up to the elbows, unbuttoned to reveal a white tank complete with blue jeans and boots. It was clear for anyone familiar with the style that Clark Kent did not look out of place in this kind of attire.

A through and through country boy he was walking with a yard of lumber over his shoulder, something which was needed for the residential area, a pair of working gloves on his hands and a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he walked. More importantly, Clark was wearing a smile. This was helping the community, something he could do regardless of the role he was playing.

After settling the lumber down he wipes a hand across his forehead and strides over to a cooler of water, pulling a bottle out and cracking the lid, taking a long and healthy sip followed by a satisfied sigh. Wasn't manual labour just great? He turns to the person beside him, a smile on his features.] Nothing quite like hard work out in the open air, is there?

d. i'll face it with a grin

[Wildcard option! Any other interactions you want with Clark/Kal/Superman feel free!]

c

[dedikated]

( She doesn't look nearly as happy as Clark might, but as long as Kate's busy, she's actually enjoying herself. As much as one can when the new city you've moved into is half destroyed by an earthquake. She's doing something. It's constructive. Busy enough to keep her mind off things. It doesn't feel like taking a holiday simply to get her heart's wish.

(She's trying to let that go, but she can't. Not that easily. Cities like Cadelle and Eudio are too good to be true, especially for people like her.)

Kate drops a broken wooden beam on the ground next to her with a grunt, back of her hand wiping sweat and dirt from her forehead before she reaches towards the cooler of water, before Clark speaks and her brow cocks in near-automatic response. )

That's what you want to call this.

( It's not unfriendly, the lilt to her tone subtle, but there. )

thom creed | ota | (cw: seizures)

[sanator]

a. And it started with a hello, I could be your superhero

[Thom didn't quite know what to feel when the first rumble of thunder started. Thom was okay with storms, he'd lived through enough of them, hell he'd biked his way through a couple of them too. When it started to become apparent that it wasn't a storm though, the average ordinary gay teen superhero started to worry about what was happening. He knew what an earthquake was without ever having lived through one and was unlucky enough that he forgot the common procedure of stay indoors when it came to the natural disaster.

He ran out onto the street, a motion instinctive of any Hero faced with this kind of problem just as the seismic activity knocked a sign off the building he was standing beside, catching Thom on the side of the head. Momentarily dazed, a gash opens on his forehead. What was stranger though, was in the wake of blood came a white-hot heat coupled with a glowing light, the wound on Thom's head knitting itself back together even as he reaches out to the sorry person who followed him out the building, holding himself steady for a moment. Shaking off his dizziness he turns imploring eyes on the person.] The civilians... we have to help them! [His voice is strained, desperate.]

b. You revived me, now I'm sure that I'm gonna be fine

[While Thom could've returned to his apartment, it was on the uppermost floor and thus free from disaster, he knew that his efforts could've helped better elsewhere; namely in the camp being set up at the gymnasium. Thom himself was already distinctly familiar with the building. It was where the wounded had been taken, after all, and Thom was in the perfect position to be doing something about it. He started small, healing people who he could see upon arrival, their wounds closing beneath his burning, glowing hands.

In time though, it was harder to tell who was wounded and who was helping so Thom found himself climbing on top of a cot and cupping his hands around his mouth.] Everybody! My name is Thom Creed, I'm a healer! If you're wounded please shout- I can heal you! [His voice climbs higher and louder.] It doesn't hurt at all, I've been told a couple times it feels great! [It was a little different from the last time he broadcasted himself so publicly to the citizens of Cadelle. This time, at least, he was fully dressed.]

c. Don't you ever let me go

[Thom had had a busy day healing people and helping with clearing the rubble, finding lost citizens within the city in the wake of the seismic activity. It was something he should've been keeping his eye on, his output had been incredibly high after all but he didn't think about it. Some time in the after noon though he was forced to think about it. It started with a twitching at his fingertips, involuntary movements that looked as if Thom was getting jolted by tiny bolts of electricity.

It left him worried, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration at what was coming before starting his littany.] Major might, invisible lass, uberman, the spectrum, warrior woman... [He kept repeating the names of superheroes, trying to stop the surging chemistry of his brain the only way he knew how. He could feel it building though, the current surging up behind him like a tide, taking him down.

The last thing he saw through eyes that were already glistening with tears was an approaching person; which was the exact moment he went down, losing complete control of his body as his limbs bent and twisted out of place, the young superhero convulsing violently as darkness surges up and drags him under.]

d. Everything's coming up roses, shockingly better than I expected.

[Wildcard option! Thom can be found doing hero deeds anywhere around the city or even catching some R&R in the gymnasium if there's anything else you might want with him!]

b!

[novacaine]

( will's head snaps to attention as a voice echoes through the large gymnasium — "i'm a healer!"

bingo.

look. will was trying to be a fucking badass, rocking the cast, showing off his Battle Wound with pride, but even though it's only been a day since the quake, it's gotten old and fast. first of all, the cots suck ass and are uncomfortable as is. secondly, he couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in with this fucking mass of plaster keeping his arm still, so he's running on empty (as though he doesn't do that on the regular). third? how the hell is he supposed to play his guitar now, provided it wasn't like, smashed to pieces in his apartment during the quake?

rather than draw attention to himself, will hauls himself off of his cot and heads right towards the healer in question, which, wait, isn't that ... )

Hey! Underwear dude! ( coupled with his first genuine grin in over a day, a little wave of his shitty cast. )

Hux || OTA

[neutronium]

(a) Outside

[He is trying not to panic. Gripping a drink in his hand, Hux moves to lean against a lamp-post (after checking that it was stable). To anyone looking at him, he must have looked out of place in the chaos of the street, just sipping his cocktail, but if one looked closer, they would notice his normally perfectly in place hair was out of place, and there was a tremble to his hand.

This was not the Starkiller. The world was not going to implode underneath him. But thoughts like that couldn't help but rattle through Hux's mind as he tried to find his center, his focus once more. He had been in one of the bars when the earthquake had happened; he had only barely managed to maintain his composure before it had all ended.

So he found himself outside the bar, now, staring at the chaos, finishing his drink.

He should help--he should do something.

But instead, he glances at someone moving near him and says--]

I'm almost done with my drink. Want to grab one with me?

(b) Around the city

[By the next day, however, Hux has gotten control of himself, and has settled into his normal mood. Hearing that there were rumors of people looting, and the police currently busy helping people rebuild, he thought it might be good to patrol some of the more likely hit areas, himself (he had been meaning to join the police force, after all). His blaster attached at his hip, he's moving between the museum and the bank, glancing at everyone who passes by to determine if they're trying to cause trouble.

Seeing one particular suspicious look near the bank, he quirks an eyebrow.]

Just what exactly do you think you're doing?

Claire Bennet | OTA

[evogirl]

A. - Apartments

[Claire's awakened from the thunder. She thinks it's thunder, at first. She quickly realizes it's not. This is something else.

Earthquake.

Claire's not all that concerned for herself here, because she'll be just fine at the end of this. But everyone else? And what is the cause? Is it someone with powers? Someone like her? Or someone more like Samuel Sullivan that has the power to level this place?

She's panicking, as she remembers being buried alive with Noah. It hasn't been that long ago for her. But no, this isn't Samuel. Not unless there are a lot of evos here...and even then.

She takes a breath, and moves quickly out of her apartment and out into the chaos of the halls.]

It's going to be okay.

[She doesn't even know who she is trying to assure at this point. Or who she's talking to. But this is not something any of them should deal with alone.]

B. - Gym

[Claire's still pretty shaken up about the devastation around them, but it seems things have somewhat settled now. She feels a part of this community now, more than she had upon her arrival.

She's going around and checking on people, trying to make sure they're alright. She hasn't seen Sansa which worries her, as Sansa is the first friend she made here. But she tries not to worry too much. People need help, need comfort.

People are wounded all around her, and Claire knows she can help them, if only they'll trust her.

She comes upon someone who seems to be in pretty bad shape, but they're still conscious. She offers a kind smile.]

Hi, I'm Claire, and I can help you if you let me.

C. - Wild card

Want something else with Claire? Hit me up at liveforthefight and we'll plot!

Waverly Earp | OTA

[angelpants]

A - Apartments

[Waverly is no stranger to dangerous events, especially not since her sister got back to town and all the Revenants showed up. Not to mention everything else they have to deal with.

She hears the thunder, and somehow deep down, she already knows it's trouble. She's trying to keep her wits about her, as she leaves her apartment. It's pretty chaotic, people are running and screaming.

The streets are splitting open outside. Waverly doesn't know where to go, but she knows she can't stay here.]

Wynonna!

[She has no idea where her sister is, but she screams for her anyway.]

B - In the city

[Having made it out of the apartments, Waverly's in the street, witness to a whole new level of destruction. She thinks she prefers the Revenants, at least that's something that can be taken care of with Peacemaker.

Natural disasters though? Not so much. And somehow this doesn't feel quite natural, does it? Maybe she's just overthinking.

There's panic all around her and she's trying to lift a beam off of a fallen guy, when something strikes her hard in the back of the head and she slumps to the ground, unconscious.]

C - Wild card

If you want Waves for something else, just hit me up at liveforthefight and we'll figure something out.

▸ waves, don't die.

[advena]

( supergirl is doing her best to stay airborne as panic starts to spread through the city. from a higher vantage point, she can watch for emergency situations, use her enhanced senses to spot and quickly extinguish erupting gas fires or break through larger pieces of falling debris before they hurt someone on their way down. it gives her opportunity, too, to watch the city's volunteers show their own strength, as they band together to help each other, protecting friends and strangers alike with whatever abilities or skills they may have.

that pride turns to fear as a piece of rebar loosed from its cemented placement swings around, nearly skewering one lucky citizen who manages to duck out of the way only to strike another in the back of the head. kara watches with wide eyes as the girl crumples, head lolling to the side, and she knows without a second's hesitation that this is the time to step in — or fly in, as the case may be.

with a hesitant, gentle touch, kara slides one arm under the girl's knees, the other cradling her neck and head; only once she's sure the grip is secured does she lift off from the ground, flying slow and steady until she's clear of the damage, lingering just above the quiet park outside the hospital. if this girl is okay, perhaps just a little dazed from the impact, the peace will do her good. if she needs more than the fresh air, at least there's emergency crews nearby. )

Hey there, ( supergirl's voice is soft and quiet, her boots echoing a soft thump as they land next to a bench. it's a good place for kara to settle her down, careful to avoid bumping what's sure to be a bad bruise (if not worse) against the wood as she does so. ) Can you hear me?

will — ota

[novacaine]

ＷＥ＇ＲＥ ＡＬＬ ＣＲＡＺＹ， ＹＯＵ＇ＲＥ ＡＬＬ ＣＲＡＺＹ ＮＯＷ

( so, going out on a saturday night to a bar, maybe to meet people, or maybe to sit at the end of the bar by himself and get wasted while playing the cadelle equivalent of candy crush on his phone, sounded like a pretty good idea at the time.

what doesn't sound like a good idea? getting trapped in the threshold of the bar as he tries, in vain, to escape the bar like the rest of the patrons, asphalt rising well past his waist, meaning he's stuck. if this is the end of his shitty life, he thinks, at least it's in a bar. except when he turns around to head back inside, he realizes that the rumblings of the quake have shattered every last bottle of liquor on its shelves, precious liquids laying wasted and mixed on the floor.

fuck it, he wants out. he scrambles back towards the blocked doorway, thanking god that he's pretty fucking tall or else he wouldn't even be seen and tries calling out feebly: ) Help! Uh — I'm trapped! ( maybe he shouldn't have had so many cheap shitty PBRs. everything was already a little wobbly, but being drunk during an earthquake? that's some shit, dude. )

ＷＥＬＬ ＷＥ＇ＲＥ ＡＬＬ ＣＲＡＺＹ， ＹＯＵ＇ＶＥ ＡＬＬ ＧＯＮＥ ＩＮＳＡＮＥ

( his arm is fucking broken. great. awesome. love it.

after telling the city's medical professionals a more polite version of fuck ya energy debt, a cast is totally punk rock, dudes, it's finally time to pick and choose his extravagant cot for the next few nights. there are rows and rows and rows of them, practically a sea of ugly beige cots with green blankets and a flat pillow placed on each, and will's having a hard time picking where the most optimal spot might be. the middle, to be protected if another quake hits? the edge of the room, to avoid being surrounded on absolutely every side by loud snorers and people who talk in their sleep?

bingo. will heads towards the edge of the room, a few beds down from one that's occupied, and he stakes his claim by sitting down on it with a dramatic sigh. head turned towards his new almost-neighbor (it'd be super weird to pick the one directly next to someone when there are still so many empty cots, right?) and looking cranky as fuck and uncomfortable as he holds his arm awkwardly due to his fancy new cast, he attempts a terrible start at conversation: ) This is some shit.

ＬＯＳＳ ＯＦ ＣＯＮＴＲＯＬ

( or wildcard me! maybe you want to teach will a new skill once he gets magically healed of his Very Traumatizing broken arm. maybe you want to commiserate with him over a shared meal at the gym. feel free to plot with me at my ooc plotting comment, on plurk at frickin, or on discord at canary#4628! )

[recoined]

( by the time her path crosses to the far side of main street, kimberly's shining pink armor has collected a dull coat of gravel and dust and dirt, a few smears of dried blood from picking up the wounded. she's never been more grateful for that armor than right now, as falling chunks of debris bounce off her shoulders, crumbling as they drop against her head and sending the pieces to cascade down over her back. she manages to dodge a particularly large piece of sheet rock that comes from a second-story support column, and the movement pits her up against the now-blocked threshold of the bar, where she can hear the faint, tired sounds of someone calling for help.

it's enough to spur her into action, untrained gut instinct directing her to curve slim fingers around the barrier of asphalt, scrambling effort to break it apart, pull the pieces out of the way. it's slow going, but she's trying, okay? ) Just hang in there, okay? I'm going to get you out of there, okay, just — stay with me, okay? ( so reassuring. she really doesn't sound like she knows what she's doing, and if she's totally honest, she doesn't. without jason's leadership keeping her focused, kim feels a little in over her head, like she's trying to save the world all on her own. not exactly a good feeling in the middle of a crisis.

somehow, her brain remembers a lesson from a cpr class she'd taken one summer, when she was trying to increase her babysitting fees in order to earn gas money for beach trips with amanda clark. a lifetime ago, it seemed like, but hey. at least she remembered it. )

Can you, uh, can you tell me something about yourself? What's your name? ( ugh. lame and lamer. ) You're supposed to try and stay awake...

credence barebone | open

[proscribed]

one earthquake

[Normally Credence is in bed at this hour or at least at home. A curfew is a hard habit to break and he always has company when he goes back, so he doesn't think to change anything. Unfortunately, one of his friends live in an adjacent building and he's headed back late, head tipped down as the ground starts to shake.

His first thought is that it's him, he's doing this. Credence pulls out his wand, casts a barrier spell around himself - it's not very strong and wouldn't hold very long if his obscurus did release, he's a beginner. He's frightened as he looks around, practicing his breathing when the ground shakes again and splits open. He feels no pain, his body isn't shaking.. it can't be him. Turning, he runs towards the door that leads into his apartment and reaches for the person doing the same thing.]

It's not me. We have to get inside.

[He assumes that's what someone does during a natural disaster or attack.]

two slumber party

[Credence takes the suggestion to hole up in the gym very seriously, packing a few things in a bag and heading that way. He texts everyone that he knows and makes his way there, setting up a cot and spreading out a blanket, neatly tucking in the edges. Folding his legs under him, he sits and waits, looking around the room at all the other misplaced residents.

When others settle in nearby, he angles his body so he can talk to them.]

Are you alright?

[He pauses, hands in his lap.]

My apartment wasn't damaged but the building was. I thought it best to come here.

three - wildcard

[Credence suffers from some repressed ability based ptsd so he'll think at first that it was him causing the ground to split open. He'll quickly realize that it wasn't him, his powers are limited to within ten feet of him, and the first prompt will start with a little of that.

I'm open to any cr so feel free to tag the above or make your own; send me a pp if you'd rather plot first!]

two

[fightlikehell]

Yeah. All things considered. You?

[Matt wets his lips and fiddles with the sleeve of his hoodie.]

Things fell over at mine. Some busted glass. I'm not the best judge there.

steve rogers | open

[recruited]

a; don't you tell me what you think i can be

[ Steve's not a stranger to destruction and mayhem. It's like the Invasion all over again. Except this time no portals opening up in the sky. No aliens streaming in. Just an Earthquake. Which he can handle. For the most part. Once the shaking stops. He shouldn't suit up, but it's been with him since Eudio. The patches are missing. The things that made him Captain America stripped away by Steve's own hand. He's not Captain America anymore. He made sure of that. Right now he's just a citizen that wants to help.

When the dust settles in his apartment he dresses. Quickly. His door won't budge though. He could spend time trying to do that or he could pop open his window and dive out it like he's not on the sixth floor. This would be better with his shield, but Steve tucks and rolls once he hits. He doesn't even stop. Once he's on his feet he's running. Arms and legs propelling him forward as he gets on the move looking for anyone that could use a hand. ]

b; begging you for mercy (for patty)

[ It's not been easy. Builds damaged. People injured. This place is definitely in a state. How they weren't prepared for something this vicious is beyond him. Then again it's hard to really plan for this. All you can do is hope for the best and deal with the aftermath. This place must be really different if it's subject to things like this. Eudio never had problems like this. Not that he really encountered there at the end of his stay.

At some point during the day he's helping people trapped in a store front. A large column supported on his back as he bows. Attempting to make a small archway for the citizens to get through. ] Move, move, move. [ He shouts. Dust and dirt cover Steve by now. There's a few cuts and scraps, but nothing he's not handled. Sweat traps the particles to his sticky skin by now. The last one through is being helped by someone due to an injury. Steve's body groans under the weight of the store front. He can't hold it forever. ] Don't jostle them too much. [ For whatever pain he's in he knows they're in more. He doesn't want them to make it worse. He'll just have to hold it.

They get clear and Steve pushes back against the column. A groan escaping him as he pushes harder. Something metal. Piping maybe? It punctures his back and he howls. He doesn't stop though. Instead he pushes through it and buys himself some time to roll clear as the front finally comes down. The chaos and commotion makes the citizens trapped run and Steve's left with the injured party on the street. He hoists them up into his arms and he starts to cart this person to the public gymnasium. ]

c; do we get what we deserve?

[ Steve has a moment finally. Breathing heavy, dirty and grimy. He's holding together though. Probably more than most of the citizens that are here. He fires out a message. ]

Sound off if you're okay.

[ For the people he knows. The ones he considers close. The ones he needs to know are okay or if they do need his help. ]

d; who can you trust?

[ It's tough to get Steve to sit down. Tough to get him to stop moving. Which is probably why he's rarely seen inside of the gymnasium to take a rest or to take cover. Instead he's on the streets. Spending most of his time recovering whoever needs him. His device close at hand in case it's the only way to get in touch. When it's time to get everything squared away and cleaned he's out there as well. Bandaged and tired looking. His beard has more dust and dirt in it. Hair sweaty and pushed back every chance he gets. But he doesn't stop moving. For whatever pain he's in or whatever exhaustion he's feeling Steve is stubborn and he keeps moving. ]

[ OOC: Steve is basically running around an helping. Feel free to write another way to meet up with him. These are not the law. But just don't tell him to sit down because chances are he'll ignore you. If you have any questions feel free to PP me or hit me on plurk under mikaelson. ]

[taskforcing]

[ Patty had the same idea as Steve, taking people to the gymnasium nearby where she assumed there was, at the minimum, sound structures and more than just the basic first aid kits (and plenty of them). So when she's exiting the gym, out of breath but ready to help still (also covered in dust and dirt and tiny scratches), she's surprised to see Steve carrying someone her direction.]

Steve! [ She immediately makes her way towards him, to help him. When she gets to his side, she notices his side.] You're hurt. [ She looks at him worriedly, not surprised that the wonderful guy she'd been on a date with was playing the part of superhero. That's what he was, after all. ] Let me help you. [ Carry this person, get them help as well as him.]

joshua faraday | closed

[sofar]

a; cowboy damsel (for sansa)

[ He's at home when it happens. Surprisingly he's not with Gwen. Which is probably for the best because he figures that with the chaos, destruction and injured parties she's probably going to be needed. Given that she's crazy good at helping people. His apartment came equipped with a bookcase, but Faraday hasn't read a single thing on it. It's kind of just decoration at this point. Something that's there and that he doesn't trouble himself with.

When it starts he's not sure what's happening at first. His brain eventually jumps to an explosion maybe? The ground shook like this when he used the dynamite. Maybe this was just like that? But it doesn't stop. It doesn't dissipate quickly. Things in his apartment. Plaster cracks and breaks. His ceiling groans and bellows under the pressure. Before he can really do anything with himself the bookcase tumbles. Faraday tries to stop it from coming down, but he's not prepared. It takes him down.

He must've cracked his head on the edge of the coffee table because when he comes to it's dust and chaotic sounds outside. He tries to move his right hand, but it won't budge. His gaze focuses and the bookshelf has it pinned complete. He can't get enough leverage to push it up. Not without injuring himself more. He reaches for his device and scrolls through blurry eyed. The back of his head is sticky and wet. When he finally lands on a name he knows he sends the quickest message he can. ]

Gonna need some help.

b; five cc's of whiskey (for gwen)

[ He's out of it a little, but he won't stay inside the gymnasium. He's broken away from Sansa for a bit. His mind on Gwen and what she could be doing out there. He knows that they got buildings that are unsafe and if one comes down on her maybe she'd be okay, but he doesn't think that's a good chance to take. He lingers outside of the gymnasium. His phone in hand until he can't take it anymore. He's tried not to contact her to let her do her hero thing, but he does it anyways. ]

Send up a flare or something and let me know you're alright, girl.

[theladyofwinterfell]

(Sansa at least has finally gotten used to carrying her device and it's a good thing because when the earthquake strikes, she loses her bearings for a moment before the world stops shaking and she can right herself again. She isn't injured aside from a few scrapes and she's not trapped, which is the best possible result. She takes to the streets in pursuit of more stable shelter when she hears the light ping of her device alerting her to a message. Oh. Faraday. )

Where are you? Are you injured?

Ava Anatalya Orlova | Marvel

[krasnaya_vdova]

one.

[She's in her apartment when it happens. She can feel it when it starts, the way the energy of it ebbs and builds, but she's not fast enough. All she has time for is grabbing her bag from a hole in the wall and moving into the hallway. She yells at anyone that can hear to get down, but there's already the sound of it, the way it tears through the city. It flings her to the ground as the world around her shakes and it reminds her so much of being nine years old again, caught in ashes as the world shook.

The lights flicker and as soon as she can get to her feet she does, shaking off chunks of plaster from the ceiling above that cracked and caved. But she's moving into action-- knocking on doors, moving rubble and doing what she can to get to people. Once she's moved through her building, she's heading toward the center, stopping to help anyone that looks like they might need it.

Although, if someone looks like the sort that's running into the chaos instead of away from it, she might flag them down. For all that she's capable of, she is five foot nothing, so she could use some help in man-handling people out of awkward places by virtue of body mechanics, if nothing else. Her eyes glowing ice blue, using her powers to stabilize a metal beam warped in the quake that had been seconds away from snapping, but she could use a little help, here.] --Hey, can you help me get them down?

two.

[Once the majority of people seem to be out of harms way, she settles in at the gymnasium, field medicine to help with cuts and bruises. She keeps a fully-stocked kit in her bag, but there end up being more than enough supplies. So anyone that enters with obvious cuts or bruises can expect a visit from a petite redhead once they get settled at their cot, her voice warm as she quietly insists to see their injuries.

Come in with something worse, and she'll make sure you're seen to before you have a chance to get settled.] Nothing personal- they just don't want blood on the cots. [She shrugs a little sympathetically, keeping her voice light as she fiddles with the gauze and disinfectant. She works diligently, helping as much as she can, forgetting about herself in the process. Someone might be inclined to make her sit down and drink some water out of a dixie cup and eat a granola bar.

But in the end she doesn't stay. Someone with sharp eyes might catch that once she finishes up, she's slipping out of the gymnasium and heading back into town. Not toward the residences, either- she figures that she did enough good to offset a minor case of breaking and entering. Away from where the blast hit, abandoned but not crumbling. Looking for a basement or a storeroom. Someplace that'll be safe enough, at least for the night.]

three.

[Wildcard me! PM me or hit me up on plurk at natalia_vdova if you want to plot something or want me to write up a specific prompt. I'm also down for post-quake stuff? Give me whatever, I'm here for all the things.]

2.

[fightlikehell]

[Got a minute? There's a blind dude that someone bullied into getting his knuckles wrapped.]

It's really not that bad. There are far worse.

[And yet here he is.]

gwen stacy ∴ spider-gwen ( ota )

[thiwp]

during
[ it's not a bird, nor a plane, but a spider-totem! Gwen's out and about in her costume before the quake is even fully over, used to springing into action as soon as there's a slight rumble in the city. she might've spent two years in Eudio, but the short trip home before coming here brought her right back up to superhero speed, reflexes quick when she thinks the city is in danger. and boy, it's in danger right now, isn't it?

so far it's been a lot of swinging around patching up crumbled structures with webbing so people can get out before it falls, but sometimes, like right now, she's helping someone out from one of the upper floors of an apartment complex ]

Just trust me, okay? [ it's probably hard to trust a girl wearing an all white mask with big pink-outlined eyes hanging from a thin web, but. well. she's holding her hand out for you and the building isn't very stable ] I've got you, I promise. I promise. Just grab my hand and hold on tight - I'll get you out of here.

after
[ and now! Gwen's laying on a cot, still in her costume, but at least her dusty mask is off now. hero'ing is Exhausting, even with her spider-stamina, it still took a lot out of her to rush around pulling people out of buildings and trying to patch them up and catching debris and blahblahblah. it's not the first time she's had to do something like this, but usually there's a Bad Guy to focus on, someone roughing up the city. usually there's a way to stop it. but now she feels antsy even as she tries to chill out and catch her breath. what if there's another earthquake? does she even have it in her to get up off her ass again and help like before?

she doesn't snap out of her train of thought until someone's waving a waterbottle in her face. she can hear that they're talking, but she only tunes in at the end of their sentence. ]

Oh, shit. Thanks. [ she takes the waterbottle, twisting off the cap and kind of sitting up just enough to dump it unto her mouth without choking. she's not even hurt, she's just exhausted. she doesn't seem to care that some of it spills onto her face. who cares. it kind of feels good, actually. ] --Don't tell anyone I just dribbled like a four year-old, okay?

Matt Murdock | Open to Alll

[fightlikehell]

A. Beta Apartment Complex [See, the thing about not being burdened with a dual lifestyle has had Matt turn in a little sooner. He is actually at home, actually settling down for the night. Actually on the verge of sleep. That's when the rumbling starts. He sits up stock straight in bed and tries to comprehend how the world is suddenly a snow globe. This is too familiar. His mind flashes back to The Incident. Matt Murdock was a kid trying to get his law degree then. The world wasn't full of aliens and heroes then.

It's not the most decorative place. He's out of bed fighting for the center of the room remembering there are windows to stay away from. For the moments that the quake lasts all he can hear is the rumbling and his own desperate breathing. The dresser toppled. The window is broken. He's barefoot.

Fuck.

The world around him comes alive with noises again. Car alarms. Screaming. Crying. It's almost all too much. Easy, Matthew. Easy. He takes slow shuffling steps, listening to class crunch on his hardwood floor.

Shoes. Cane. Maybe a shirt. Heightened senses don't take up as much time to collect these things as it would have been but it's much longer than necessary. Stepping out of his apartment door there's chaos in the hallway. People scrambling down from the stairwell.]

Hey! Hey! Careful.

B. Out and About

[There are places to gather, to be safe from the wreckage and rubble. Matt meant to go there. Meant to. Except there are voices in the air calling out. Cries for help. Cries of anguish and fear.

Is that a gun being cocked?]

C. Gimme Shelter

So. This is cozy.

[He's seated on a cot. No red shades to hide his blind eyes. So many people together in one room. Matt's lips purse as collapses his cane. Knuckles are bloody and he's got dirt and glass in his hair. He's keeping his ears open for familiar voices.]

B /backdated like whoa

[glaza]

[ By the time she makes her way over to Matt's apartment, he's gone. She has her own weapons on her, the suit she took to Eudio with her ages ago, and isn't afraid to jump into the fray once she can manage to get out the buildings.

It's almost hysteria and the fact it's dark just makes everything that much worse.

She doesn't find Matt, much to her distress, but she keeps an outward cool when dealing with the other citizens. As much as she can considering what is going on around her. Seeing someone cock a gun and pointing it at someone else in an escalated altercation, Nat is quick to shoot off one of her Widow bites into the arm holding the gun. The man cries out and the gun drops to the ground, miraculously not going off. ]

oliver queen ➹ open

[unrecognizable]

↪ labor till the work is done

( familiarity in unwanted ways; a low rumble, vibrating the ground below, leaving his stomach in tight knots. the moment stretches out. time passing imperceptibly; each second threatening to become an eternity. his resolve, usually a thing made of steel, falters. back to star city; debris scattering a broken landscape, air thick with dust, choking the breath from him. and what had lain underneath the rubble created a wound incapable of fully healing. his best friend; caught in the aftermath of malcolm’s scheme, speaking quietly for the last time. open your eyes, tommy. open your eyes.

the illusion shatters. realization casting it aside; to let anyone else suffer a comparable fate would dishonor the promises made before. panes of glass shattered. the world feeling as if it had tilted on an axis. instability paints no effect on his measured steps; deftly moving through an apartment coming undone to grasp the trunk hidden away in a closet. an action practiced so many times to be second nature. pulling on the suit that identified him as star city’s vigilante archer.

selfishness pulls at his heart; tendrils wrapping and clenching. a disaster on this scale, natural born or not, is tragedy. never sought after nor wanted. to feel useful again, able to make any kind of difference, sparks something dormant within him. a guilt in needing this. escaping the apartment block comes slowly; wreckage pushed away from exits, doors kicked down to free inhabitants.

once on the street, green leather takes on a different hue, bathed in grime and powder, trickles of perspiration slipping down the sides of his dirty face. pitiful screams echo from the left; growing fainter towards cry’s end. an elderly gentleman, trapped under the remnants of a roof. )

You. ( his voice carries a grow; the kind that spurs others into action ) Help me dig him out

↪ truth is to me that I was caught in the storm (for kara)

( to know one’s limitations; a lesson neither taught during the five years of his bitter education, or learned since. hours of running on adrenaline and grit. determination the strongest combatant of fatigue. what were the ache in his muscles compared to wounds received by so many? a sight like this is too close to home; star city laid siege upon year after year. the aftermath and recovery. a curse following over into cadelle. no, his shoulders, broad and strong, don’t carry the guilt of thinking this is his fault.

when they find each other, oliver’s reserves are drying up, and that, combined with a trust built up through months together, was why kara’s help didn’t mean his typical stubborn resistance. gliding through the night sky, arm loosely around her waist, his eyes close for the first time in recent memory. she’s earned that; a glimpse at the vulnerable side, tucked away from others.

the sounds of chaos dissipate; as they land, he swallows thickly, breathing in the sweetness of the air. overestimating his remaining strength, to prevent the buckling of his legs would have been an impossibility, and he falls to the ground, onto the lush grass. she had taken them towards the mountains; a reprieve in solitude. )

Kara ( hood now pulled down, streaks of dirt painting his face, he exhales, knowing she won’t listen ) There are other people that need your attention more than I do.

↪ wildcard

( if you want a custom starter, or to hash things out, hit me up at wherewolf)

[advena]

( it's quiet here, in the outskirts of the city, under the shadows of the mountaintops. the city is filled with noise and fear and restless energy born of crisis, too many bodies all swarming to find shelter, to feel useful in some way.

in the daylight hours, kara had let herself sink into the patterns of heroism, lifting rubble and pulling people to safety, but as the harsh beat of the sun had dipped below the horizon, even kara could recognize the limits of her particular skill set. she offered no capacity to heal, nor to create food or water on demand. now, as twilight takes over, the city's wounded and trapped have been pulled to safety; they congregate in a crowded community center, queue for food and medical treatment, and wait.

she's never been particularly good at waiting.

as for oliver, she'd known he was okay. she'd seen him, earlier in the day; they'd exchanged tense glances, nods of understanding; you're alive. that was enough. that was then. this is now. and now, she needs to know that he's more than just okay.

they land in soft grass, and his legs buckle underneath him, exhaustion evident in each motion of his body. kara sinks down beside him, pulls his body in to hers, cradles his head in her lap; it lets her brush the hood down to his shoulders, smooth her fingertips across his forehead, wiping the dirt away from the corners of his eyes. )

Oliver, ( her tone is soft, reassuring; her touch is gentle, too, as she brushes her thumb against his temple. ) I'm always going to take care of you.

( she's quiet for a moment, listening to the sound of his breathing, occasionally scanning a limb or two for broken bones or other injuries evident via x-rays. )

I'm just glad you're okay.

jace herondale; open

[obdurates]

↪ once the dust settles

( natural disasters didn't typically fall under broad set of circumstances shadowhunters are trained to deal with; a honed skill set, better equipped at handling shax demons than earthquakes. knowledge which fails to serve as a deterrent; aid comes in any way he can provide it. stamina runes to keep him going long after exhaustion should have set in. uncovering things trapped beneath rubble; reuniting friends, having gone agonizing hours without contact due to the cell towers being down or flooded, and everything in between. it's nice, having a sense of purpose. to use the abilities granted by his blood for a worthwhile cause. a feeling lacking in cadelle altogether previously.

his current quest, just as noble as the others, proves far more frustrating in practice. during the height of panic, animals were released at best friend's rescue; some escaping on their own, others freed to prevent the cruel fate of being trapped within a building that may fall at any second. it survived, defiant and well built, but now a different task lay ahead. they still needed care; the escapees, basic necessities, and above that, a safe home until their adoption day came. how did someone like jace decide to use their energy on such a thing? a complicated answer; in large part due to clary's influence, healing ancient wounds, and the scars left in their wake. his only pet had been murdered cruelly by valentine; this felt like a way of making up for that

a plan he may soon regret; sweat cascades down the sides of his face, eyebrows furrowed together, determination and frustration mixing into his expression, body language tense, ready to pounce. why? because of the orange tabby five feet to the right, meowing in that expectant tone that cats have perfected. ) Okay, big guy. We understand each other, yeah? Look at me. This is a face you can trust. ( blonde strands of hair fell before jace's eyes; licking his lips, the time arrived, and he sprang forward, closing the distance between them in impressive fashion. this was a game already played several rounds over; chasing his feline delinquent down an alleyway, in sweeping circles, and nearly up a telephone pole.

arms extended, he leaps, body moving through the air with surprising grace, and a roar of triumph erupts from somewhere deep in his throat as soft fur graces over fingertips. the cat, now dubbed houdini, was pulled against his body as he twists, positioning to land on his back, breath momentarily expelled ) That's right...I've taken out a den of vampires, you didn't stand a chance, you little creature of satan. ( instead of being met with claws, he could feel the rumbling purr against his chest and sighed, head dropping back against the ground, only to see someone standing above him, image turned upside down ) Don't laugh.