everything's on fire

[krasnaya_vdova]

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!]

Comments

[nikolaievich]

“We just want to help.”

But the way he says it makes it clear he doesn’t really feel like he has to justify himself. He’s been running up and down since the fire started and doing his best to help, but weirdly enough he’s- well. Not in a good mood, not by a long shot. But it definitely feels good to be able to do something, to feel useful, to use his training for something. He’s been living crisis to crisis for most of his life, but it feels a little selfish to say he misses the excitement.

He's also in a better position than most people to know exactly how badly this could affect Natalia, so he feels justified in pushing it a little bit.

“Were you close to the start of the fire?”

[unmakeme]

She huffs, takes his jacket and slips it on. Not because she's cold, or because she feels that there is anything wrong with sitting here in a sports bra and shorts. She puts it on in the hope it will stop the next well-meaning soul from approaching her. "I don't know. No one seems to know where it started. It was hot when I woke up, and I could smell the smoke." She shrugs. That's all she knows about how it started. Well, not all. "I think my floor was lower? Lower than the start of it." She points to the shell of the building, her brow furrowed, everything about her wanting to draw in on itself and being held rigid by sheer force of will. "The way it spread - quickly up and slowly down. That's how it works, right?"

[nikolaievich]

Illya nods. He’s been in fires before, but he was old enough and trained enough that he knew how to handle it, nothing like the experience Natalia described when she was young. He doesn’t think himself as a very emotional person and definitely not good at comforting others, but since his feelings run deep he’s actually good at empathizing with others.

He just doesn’t know if Natalia wants empathy right now, maybe she’d rather just have a distraction.

“We’ll find out how it started, somehow.” He bites his inner cheek, wondering how to word the next part in a way that won’t make Natalia angry at him. “Natasha… are you okay? Do you need anything?”

[unmakeme]

The prickle is automatic, eyes harder, spine straighter. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do I not look like I can take care of myself? I don't want the hospital and I don't want to talk and I don't want--" All right, she is kind of hungry. Problem is, she doesn't have anything. Everything she owns in this city, aside from her Bites, boots, and phone, is either in that burned out building, or in a trunk she chucked out of a seventh floor window into, what it turns out, is a ridiculously tall and dense stand of trees. It had seemed like a better idea at the time. Stupid fucking fire.

So she sits on this planter, fingers shredding the paper label on an empty water bottle, because the fact of the matter is very simple: she has nowhere to go.

[nikolaievich]

He doesn’t even react to her outburst. Natalia may not be tapping her fingers on the nearest surface like Illya does when he’s nervous, angry and/or about to explode but he can still recognize the signs when he sees them and that bottle is probably not going to be the same again after she’s done with it.

“I didn’t mention the hospital.” Because if he were on her position they would have to knock him out dead before he’d allow them to bring them to a hospital if he had decided he didn’t need it. He’ll worry, yes, but also not force her to go through that.

“But you look like you’re barely wearing any clothes, I thought you may need help retrieving your things. Or we could go get some food.” A beat. “Go out to to eat, since I lost most of my food.”

[unmakeme]

"Suddenly embarrassed to see me out of my clothes?" She asks with a bite in her words, like she's trying to hurt him. Which is stupid, and a moment later, it deflates. That wasn't them. It wasn't their fault. She's been avoiding him since it happened, but she didn't intend to ignore him forever. Just... for a while. Maybe a long while.

She sighs. "Everything I own that was still in that building is probably ash. The rest of it--" An annoyed little huff. "I dumped it in a trunk and threw it out the window and now... I can't find it." Which is part of why she's sitting here, looking and feeling defeated.

[nikolaievich]

He doesn’t look hurt in the slightest, not even confused. He doesn’t know where Natalia is going to strike but he is waiting for a blow, which makes it easier for him to handle when she does lash out. Plus he doesn’t exactly blame her. He lost nothing in the fire, nothing of importance and it still rattled him. He can’t imagine what she must be going through.

So he doesn’t bother dignifying the first part with an answer.

“What are we doing here, then?” He stands up. “I’ll help you find it.”

[unmakeme]

"I don't--" She's about to tell him off, just like she's been doing to everyone else tonight, but fuck it, she is tired. She feels raw, exposed, vulnerable and useless. "Fine," she says. "But only because if I keep on sitting here I'm sure more idiots are going to keep coming up to me and asking me if I'm all right." That is getting super old. She doesn't want to talk about it, but she also doesn't want to... not talk about anything. It's a strange feeling. She doesn't want anyone near her, and she's also pretty certain she would lose it entirely if she were all alone right now.

So she gets to her feet, slips her arms into the sleeves of Illya's jacket and then cuffing them so that they don't cover her hands. It swims on her, almost ridiculously so. "My window was there." She points to a spot of the burnt out building, seventh floor. "So it would have ended up... there." Now she's pointing at a thick stand of trees near the entrance, sectioned off with a spiky iron fence.

[nikolaievich]

“Sure.”

He agrees amicably. He’s not even just agreeing for the sake of agreeing with her, she’s right: he’s probably not the first one to bug her, and he probably won’t be the last one so if she wants people to leave her alone finding something to actually do is the safest way. That, or finding a private place to hide in but since both lost their rooms today that’s easier said than done.

He looks up to where she’s pointing at.

“I could climb easily. But you could probably do that better than I could have, which means you didn’t find them there?”

[unmakeme]

"I could climb the fence. It's not that." As they get close enough, he'll be able to see. There's nothing on the ground even remotely resembling a metal foot locker. "Nothing." She sweeps a hand at the frustrating nothing, voice sour. Even if she is still grateful to have something else to be mad at. "This is underneath my window, more or less. It's not like a metal trunk full of shit is light enough to get caught on the wind."

When you can't count on damn near one hundred pounds of dead weight to fall straight down, what the fuck can you count on?

[nikolaievich]

Illya follows the trail to where her window should be with his eyes, frowning because he can’t see anything either.

“Have you gone back to your room? I could jump from there and see where I fall. Maybe I’d see something from there.”

[unmakeme]

"You're going to jump from a seventh story window for me?" It's difficult to tell if she amused or horrified. Maybe both. Definitely tired. "I'm not sure you can even get to my room at this point It's all--" She looks up at the burnt out shell, and her words catch in her throat, hard enough to rob her of her voice entirely.

She looks away, because she has to. "If you get yourself hurt, the guilt might literally kill me," she whispers. Repeat that, and she'll stab you. You have been warned.

[nikolaievich]

Illya shrugs. He’s done weirder- and it’s not like he couldn’t manage to grab himself onto something, or like he wouldn’t be using rope and other tricks before he jumped from her room. He looks up towards where her window is… or at least where the remains of the building make him think it would be.

But her affirmation makes him blink in surprise as he glances at her. Well, okay then. Probably not something he wants to ask about, or repeat, or bring up ever again but it’s still… nice to hear. Most people he’s known, nearly everybody he’s dealt with all his life would only care about results and about getting the job done.

“We could also get someone who can fly, then. No risk for anyone involved.”

[unmakeme]

"I only know two people who fly - one of them, I don't want to deal with, and the other one needs his sleep. It's been a rough night." She sighs, pushes her hands through her hair and then stuffs them in the pockets of his jacket when she realizes they're shaking a little. "We should just go," she mumbles. Though she doesn't actually start walking away. Instead, she leans her head against the metal fence, glaring sullenly at the space she figures her trunk probably should have landed.