riverviewlogs | everything's on fire

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everything's on fire

who: Everyone!
what: The residential building is on fire
when: ~2am, August 23rd
where: The Residential building
warnings: Fire, destruction of property, injury, general warnings for crisis situations

It's a reasonably quiet night, pleasantly dry with a slight breeze. Almost nice, for those that enjoy the hours after midnight long before dawn starts to creep on the horizon. Right until it isn't, when the air changes, and there's the scent of heat that promises smoke. In most places it starts with a flash of blue light that arcs from floor to floor as energy pulses through the building, and there's a crack of sound that follows. The power dies for a moment, and if you're one of the unlucky ones, the light that follows is a literal spark in the dark, burning to life in bright orange-red, yielding heat and smoke and trouble. The energy surge doesn't just hit the lights, but sparked flames that burst to life, and they catch quickly, spreading.

The worst of it starts on the ninth floor, where the smoke and the beginning of heat starts moments before the surge. The fire spreads faster there, people starting to startle awake and realize what's happening as the flames crackle. Eventually there's an announcement on the Network, both alerting people to what's happening and trying to organize both those that are willing to help and those that need it.

Some areas are untouched, while others are ravaged badly, reduced to ashes and crumbling ceilings, so watch your step. There's chaos, but through it there's people doing what they can to help each other, and the official fire services show up to help control the blaze. After that, it's just a matter of repairing the damage that's been done, rebuilding and putting things back together, seeing what's been lost and what was saved.

Even later, people start putting the pieces together, and there's the official investigation into what might have caused a fire like that in the first place.

[ooc: As promised, the residential building is on fire! OOC plotting post is here if anyone wants to work out some last minute plans before diving in. Plotting post also includes the relevant details. Elsewise, just top level and mingle. Try not to get burned too badly. :) Good luck!]

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i. and everything's burning

[Ava doesn't waste time once she's realized what's going on-- it's happened again. There's that sick feeling that curls in her stomach, the guilt of it that hits her hard, but she pushes it down because she needs to move. Deal with her feelings about all of this, when people aren't in danger. There's that pulse, the beat of her heart as she needs to know how bad it is.

The dreams were bad. A mix of the Red Room and Alexei and her hand on the gun that killed him. It only takes a second, a second on that cusp of dreaming and awake, pushing back, wanting it all to stop and again she's wreathed in flames. She's moving fast, half in a daze, pulling on her boots, snapping on her belt, grabbing her phone, stuffing the things she keeps in easy reach into the duffle bag at the foot of her bed. The fire's in the hallway which isn't good.

She needs to get people here out, call Tony, make sure everyone knows what's happened, and then save everyone. She knocks on doors, and helps anyone stumbling out of their room with a quick explanation--] Fire. You need to go. Now.

[She doesn't seem to have noticed she's still in her pajamas. Probably not the best time to point it out, either.]

ii. suit up and get moving

[Once she's called Tony, made an announcement, and helped the first round of people out of the burning building and appraised just how bad it is (real bad) she's heading back into the building. She heads back toward the top floors, though she pauses and helps anyone that seems to need it on the way. But her concern here is that with how bad the ninth floor is, it's going to leave the six floors above cut off. She knows Tony's already there, but this is her mess.

She's on comms, for anyone that knows her, and has the post running on audio through her headset, too. The ninth floor is even worse than when she first left it, and she curses mutedly, glowing for a moment as she moves through the flames of the ninth floor, and then up to the tenth, coughing on the smoke. She gets clear, and immediately is calling out, knocking on doors, trying to see who needs help as she makes her way up to the roof. Aside from helping get people to safety she doesn't leave until everyone's out, checks every room, knocks on doors, fights her way through collapsed areas until she can tell herself that everyone's okay. Or alive, at least. She tries to keep her powers as muted as she can, but with her emotions running high it's hard, and especially when the pulse of them is the very thing that insulates her from the heat.]

iii. i'm afraid the cracks are starting to show

[After it all, when everyone's out, she's been up to the roof and back down and pulled people from fire at least a dozen times, she stands there looking up at the building, feeling a little numb. It's just all structural at this point. And that too, she feels like she needs to help with. But for a moment, it all catches up with her. Memories wrought in fire again and again, and how she can't quite stop this from happening no matter how hard she tries to force it down, make it this spark in her heart. Don't let herself react, don't feel, and she can almost pretend to be normal.

But she's so very bad at not feeling. Especially in her dreams. And then everything burns. There are some people, still getting burns bandaged, magic used as a cure for burned lungs and the horror of it starts to sink in, her hands balled into fists at her sides as she looks at it all. It's never been this bad before, but she's also usually been in a box of metal and concrete when it happens.

The rooms will be repaired but that doesn't change the fact that there's no place for her there. She recovers her duffle bag from where she stashed it, slinging it over her shoulder, still in her mixup of summer pajamas and the red tac boots she wore with her uniform. She takes a few steps back, not quite sure where she's going, just... needs to put some distance between her and the people here.]

iv. i am not safe

[Wildcard option. Open to post-fire stuff too, and I'll happily write up individualized prompts. Ava is the accidental culprit of this mess, so feel free to poke her with investigative stuff, too. Her plotting post is here or PM this journal or pplurk me @

natalia_vdova if you prefer.]

[This was a bit of a disaster. Bucky counts himself lucky he had been having a sleepless night at the new place; as soon as he saw the smoke from the residential building and found the update on the network, he had thrown on his boots and headed over to help. There were plenty of people around getting others out and to safety, so he focused more on trying to direct the fire away from occupied areas, toward spots already evacuated or already damaged to lessen the overall damage done. He's not sure how good a job he did, but he'd made the effort.

Now it's about over. Everyone's out, the fire has died down. It's not a stroke of luck that he spots Ava, maybe he was seeking her out on purpose, to make sure she's okay. She's got her bag, wearing just pajamas and boots, and he's not much better. He's sweaty and sooty and wearing his sweatpants and Perimeter Guard t-shirt with his combat boots.

Wordlessly, he joins her, curling his fingers around her upper arm to gently tug her in a certain direction.] C'mon. You can crash on my couch for now.

[She's not okay, not really, but she's trying to fake it. To get away before she lets it hurt, lets every person she saw choking on smoke, every dislocated knee and broken ankle, burned arms and twisted shoulder hit her with the guilt she knows she's earned.

She's tense, distracted, and she almost doesn't notice until he touches her, and there's that gut reaction where she tenses for a breath before she leans into the press of his fingers. She lets him tug her, but she looks up at him, shakes her head, lips thinning as he mentions crashing on his couch.]

What if I hurt someone else, hurt you?

[Her voice is quiet, but the worry there is sharp. She feels dangerous, all sharp edges and ashes. There's a tremble to her shoulders, the weight of it all so very heavy.]

[The hand on her arm becomes an arm slipped loosely around her shoulders, trying to offer some bare comfort in what has been a hell of a night so far. He exhales, glancing up to watch the road as he starts them walking away from the residential building. At least the warehouse apartment isn't too far, a handful of blocks. The cooler night air can't be too bad for either of them anyway.]

It'll be alright. The new place is mostly brick and concrete, and it's just me, Steve, and Tony. [There is less to burn and fewer people to worry about if she did happen to start another fire in the warehouse.] What happened in there?

[She's honestly not used to it, that sort of physical comfort. Not in the past few years, not since she fell out of contact with Sana, anyway. So it's... nice. Good. She leans into it, sighs as she walks with him. She's still worried about the idea of it, but it's at least better than doing something like that again. And brick and concrete is a good thing.]

Doesn't mean I wont hurt you.

[Her tone is quiet, but there's worry there. Concern about hurting people she usually keeps buried but now it's sharp, on the surface. At the question there's a bitter sound, her voice soft.]

I had a nightmare.

[Lately, Bucky isn't either, but it seems good to offer. He knows what it's like, to spend most of your life without a little human contact. Since he and Natasha split, maybe he's seeking a bit of it out himself, here and there, falling against Steve's side on the couch or putting an arm around Ava like this.] I been through a lot worse than an electrical fire. You're not gonna hurt me. [His voice is a little raspy from the smoke, but otherwise, he does seem fine, despite his time spent in a burning building.

His arm around her shoulders tightens just a fraction. A nightmare. He knew this all had to be an accident (or someone else's fault, though he doesn't know any pyromaniacs here), but that explains it succinctly.] Happens to the best of us. It's gonna be okay, you know. Nobody died.

[She sighs, reaching out and holding onto his shirt, reciprocating that contact a bit, but also there was reassuring about having someone to hold onto. And the fact that he didn't seem scared of her, didn't look at her like she was a freak no matter how much she felt like one right about now.]

I'll hold you to that. [Which is maybe ridiculous, trying to hold someone to a claim that she wasn't going to hurt them, but she needed to believe in it, so there it was. It was an accident, just that moment when she was asleep and the dream hit something too real that for a moment she lost control.]

I hurt people, though.

[He exhales softly, and they walk the handful of blocks to the warehouse apartment like that. It's been a long night, but Bucky knows he won't be getting back to sleep, and he wonders if Ava will be able to rest at all herself. Well, that's a problem for the next moment, the next hour.] You got my word. [Honestly, he's used to being around fire. His best friend (the one his own age, at least) during the war could light himself on fire and fly, and they used to go into battle like that, Toro on fire down to his forearms, Bucky hanging onto his hands while he flew them into the fray. He can handle a little heat. It's not something he's scared of.]

Yeah, I know. [He says it softly, but not unkindly.] We all have to take responsibility when we hurt people. But nobody died. Burns and smoked-out lungs will heal.

[She knows she can't sleep, not now, not with the adrenaline still racing in her veins, not when the horror of it still feels so heavy on her shoulders. But that can wait. For now, she lets him lead her to the warehouse apartment he'd picked up when he'd moved out of communal housing (a fact she is immensely grateful for, at the moment).] Good. And I'll do my best.

[She lets herself believe it. That she wont hurt him, no matter if she does lose control. That he can handle the heat and a few burns.]

I know. You can't erase these things. People you hurt, people you can't save, the dead.

[She sighs, maybe holds on a little tighter, because even if she isn't safe, he agreed that he was. That she couldn't hurt him, and that's a reassurance she's never had.] But they have healers and magic here, so that's good. The first time it happened there was a girl in medical for over a week.

I know. You didn't do any of this on purpose. [They come up on the apartment, and it's a bit of a run-down looking building on the outside. The previous owner had run out of money halfway through renovations and sold it off for cheap to get rid of it before he left the Quarantine. Steve, Bucky and Tony are all working on improvements; it's nice to have a project. But true to his word, it's all brick and metal and concrete, on the outside, with three stories and big windows. He opens the door to let her inside to the spacious, open garage, which currently houses his bike and a service elevator. It'll wind up being workshop space for Tony, most likely.]

No, there's no erasing it, but you can try to make up for it. We'll both go help with the rebuilding tomorrow. [After you've rested is implied but not voiced, because he can't really enforce it.]

It was an accident, Ava. And everyone is going to be fine.

[To be honest, given some of the places that Ava has lived, the apartment doesn't look particularly bad to her eyes. Maybe a little shabby, but it's intact, at least. And much like he said, the building does seem to be fairly fire-resistant. Even if it did catch fire, it probably wouldn't spread, not like it had in the residential building.]

I was planning on it anyway. [She admits it quietly, a shrug of her shoulders. She catches the implication, of course. She's not sure she can really rest- as exhausted as she is from the nightmares and the panic and the exhaustion, she's also not sure she could sleep.]

Yeah, but I still feel guilty about it. Just because I couldn't help it never seems like it makes it better.

[A short trip up in the elevator, and he steps out into the apartment itself. It's a little shabby, but has a vaguely Brooklyn feel, modeled after Steve's apartment back home. It's a little more lived in here, with sketches on the walls and minimal but comfortable furniture. He motions for her to make herself at home and heads to the fridge to get a couple bottles of water.] I'll go with you. Probably falls under Perimeter Guard duties somewhere.

I get that. [There's a bit of a somber look on his face that says he understands the sentiment all too well. He passes her a bottle of water.] The best thing to do is spend your energy trying to make up for it instead of beating yourself up. And remember it's only minor injuries and property damage.

[She follows after him, and there's a pause as she looks around. It feels a little like Brooklyn, like the sort of place she might expect in one of those brownstone apartments and there's something nice about that. Brooklyn had been the only place she'd ever really called home.] Be nice to have a friendly face around.

[Her lips thin a little as she takes the bottle of water, uncapping it and taking a drink as a way to dodge how clear the understanding there is in his eyes. Which is a different sort of comfort, but one that's harder to admit to seeing.]

I'll do what I can, at least. Wish I was better for fixing things instead of just-- [There's a slight gesture with the water bottle and a sigh. Ruining things, breaking things. She was capable of doing some neat tricks with electricity, but it wasn't quite the same as fixing things, putting back the things she'd broken.] That.

[It's definitely Brooklyn-inspired. It wasn't Bucky's home the way it was Steve's, but he had found a lot of good there, living in Steve's old apartment with the New Avengers.] As if I'd be anywhere else. [Not just for her, but also because he gravitates toward work that will make a difference. He has his own shit to make up for.

He's quiet for a long few minutes, draining his water bottle and splashing a bit of it on his face to wash off some of the soot that darkens his cheeks.] When I was with the Invaders, I used to wish I had some kind of superpower. Here I was, this seventeen year old kid in a domino mask trying to keep up with men on fire and super-soldiers and the Prince of Atlantis. But there were things I could do that none of them could.

We all have to work with what we've got. For those of us who got the short end of the stick, sometimes it means gettin' creative. You're a smart kid, I know you're capable of doing whatever you want to do.

[She likes it. Tempers a little bit of her worry and the strain of feeling like she's out of control, like she's about to lose herself entirely if she doesn't hold every breath and choke it down. She knows that it's at least in part just because of what had just happened, but it's still-- there.

She listens, drinks her water, lets the coolness of it settle in her chest instead of the smoke and the heat and the memories that still feel a little too present, a little too cloying. She smiles at the image of it a little, Bucky young and running around with a mask and everyone around him some sort of powerhouse.

Then he calls her a kid and she frowns. Her voice is soft, no heat to it, even if the words are firm as she looks up at him.]

I'm not a kid.

[There's too much. Too much pain, too much that exists behind her eyes. She's never been a kid, never been allowed to be, and she knows he doesn't mean the nickname to hurt. But it's too late to pretend she gets a childhood.]

[That answer is predictable, in a way. Every teenager says the same thing. I'm not a kid, take me seriously. It isn't that he doesn't take her seriously, he recognizes the gleam of pain behind her eyes. But she's only, what? Nineteen? Maybe he's just getting old but she still seems incredibly young to him.

He breathes out slowly.] Yeah, I guess you're not. I wasn't either at your age. [And then a weak attempt at a joke,] I'm old, though. Bear with me, huh?

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[Despite his own efforts Tony finds himself safely outside the fire. He starts to stagger away from the crowd before doubling over to throw up what little he had in his stomach. The headache, the vomiting, they were all familiar signs of his drinking and chemotherapy although the difficulty breathing was new.

Logically he knows he should see someone as he's displaying symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning and smoke inhalation, but he doesn't find himself able to move just yet. Tony tries to spit the taste out of his mouth and wishes he had a drink. However when he raises his head and straightens up, he changes that wish to be anywhere else as he spies Ava.

Widows were a touchy subject and things weren't going to change any time soon.]

Hey.. Tony?

[She's honestly not sure which one it is, but she figures odds are on it being the one that hasn't been her biggest fan. Mostly because it's clearly just that kind of night, but he's also taller than the one she knows well. But he literally just threw up, and she can't help worrying-- he might not like her, but she frets about him anyway. Both from guilt and because she doesn't want anything to happen to any version of Tony Stark.

She holds her hands out as she slowly moves in closer, in that attempt at the old gesture about I am unarmed, I mean you no harm. Out of the fire, she's managed to clamp down on the most obvious signs of her powers, but she's still tense, and her eyes are too bright, too blue, luminous in the dark.]

You should see a doctor. Smoke probably got in your lungs.

[She doesn't know about the rest.]

[He roughly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand without ever taking his eyes off her. His unwillingness to let her out of his sight would give away which one he is even in the dim lighting.]

I'll sleep it off.

[His voice is hoarser than he'd like, but there's no helping that right now.]

Your eyes are glowing.

[It's not a question, he doesn't care why it is. The only thing he's thinking is if it means she's gearing up to do something and what he can use to defend himself if that's the case.]

[The way he watches her answers that question rather succinctly, but she doesn't step back, doesn't walk away. Steps in closer, slowly, doing her best to not seem dangerous. Even if she knows that he'll probably always see her that way. Dangerous, a threat, one step away from putting a gun to his head. And if he knew the truth about her? It would only be worse. Nothing to do for it.]

You don't just sleep off smoke inhalation. You should let someone take a look at you. There's some people staged nearby, it wouldn't even take long.

[Please let her get you help, Tony. She doesn't like how he looks, honestly worried about him. And then he mentions her eyes and she blinks them closed for a moment, a muted half-curse under her breath. Her heart's racing and it makes her more obvious, though she's glad she caught it before it got worse. When she opens them they're just that normal sharp blue.]

It happens sometimes. I'm more worried about you.

[For one, unsettling moment, all that can be seen on the other end of the hallways is pair eyes glowing eerily through the smoke, a larger glowing circle a little below them. And then the image coalesces into the armor as Tony steps forward, heading determinedly in Ava's direction.]

Ava? [The faintly electronic voice is louder than usual, clearly pitched to be heard above the chaos. He comes to a stop just in front of her, somehow seeming to stare intently at her even through the helmet.]

You okay?

[She pauses for a moment. The air is so hot, smoke and dust, so there's that energy pulsing from her chest and the glow of her eyes. For that first moment she can't make out the armor, but then he moves closer and she might normally have sighed, but she's breathing as little as possible.]

Yeah. Can't feel the heat for the most part, just a few scrapes getting past the debris in the stairwell. There anyone left up here?

[She deals in the present, physical aspects. And moves onto the task at hand. She needs to stay focused.]

Edited 2017-08-26 02:06 (UTC)

No. It's clear.

[He says it as firmly as he can. Tony may not know Ava as well as she knows him, but he can still tell that she's gonna want to keep going until every single person is safe, even if she completely burns herself out doing it. He might recognize the urge.

Tony picks his way closer to her, stepping carefully. The armor isn't exactly light and the fire is mostly still underneath them. The last thing either of them would need would be to go right through the floor.]

Let me know when you're hitting your limit and I'll get you out.

[She won't and he knows it, but he has to at least make the offer.]

Thanks.

[And she means it. Clearing the people out; it's important to her. Saving everyone, making sure as few people as possible get hurt in this mess. As few people as possible are a weight on her hands.

She moves toward him, so they're meeting more or less halfway; it's a little bit easier for her to pick her way across the floor. She can feel the weak spots in the floor. Not a good sign, but there's not been a whole lot of those tonight, anyway. She looks up, a slight curve to her lips, but it's not a smile.]

Yeah. I'm fine for now.

[After making her way up from the bottom with no few amount of people in need, she's not exactly fine. The smoke, her eyes stinging, but they both know she's not stopping until Tony can tell her that every heartbeat is out and clear.]

You doing alright?

[She worries about him, too.]

[He spreads his arms out to his sides to indicate that aside from some soot and scratch marks, he's entirely in once piece.]

Gonna take more than a building to dent me.

[Which is demonstrably untrue, but Tony's going to stick with it anyway. He's at least trying to be reassuring.]

It doesn't look like too much of the main structure has been damaged either, so it should be relatively easy to rebuild. And not have the entire thing fall in on our heads.

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everything's on fire

Ava Anatalya Orlova | Marvel | OTA

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