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

[unmakeme]

It's a very nice thing, to not be underestimated because of her looks. Maybe, when they're both outside, she'll even have time to appreciate that quality in him. Right now, though, it's about hauling ass.

She keeps in front of him, hand running along the railing. She doesn't let herself get too far out in front, doesn't let herself get too close for him to feel crowded. The reason for it would probably not be obvious to everyone, but considering that Steve comes from an era when men made sure to walk in front of women on the way down stairs and behind them on the way up so that they'd be able to catch them if they stumbled for any reason, he might be able to recognize what she's doing. It's the exact same reasoning. If Steve falls, he's going to fall into her, and with her hand on the railing, she'll be able to keep him from falling further. Him and the man he's carrying. She'll catch both of them. It probably won't be graceful or dignified, but she won't let them get hurt.

[rightly]

He does recognize it for the support it is, even if he worries about her handling the weight of two people, especially if they're falling against her without any sort of control or warning. Still, it'll be of some help if he starts getting dizzy and can't handle the man in his arms much longer. The way it's going, he honestly doesn't know if he'll be able to make it all the way down without having to let go of him.

His feet wobble slightly as he rushes down the stairs, and he can almost swear he can hear the flames, the fire. An airplane blowing up and bursting to flames around him comes to mind, the blurring white and the pitch dark that followed, and fear creeps up on him, clutches his heart tightly. "Wait," he slows down, leaning against the railing. "Need to stop. Need to... how much farther down?"

[unmakeme]

The moment he says wait, Natasha is right there, shoulder braced against his, one of her arms coming under the man he's carrying, taking some of the weight. "Hey. It's just two more floors. You're doing so well. Do you need me to take him? Can you keep walking if I take him?"

She brings her free hand between them, to turn Steve's face toward hers. She wants to check his pupils, their reactivity to the light. What she sees is something far more troubling. "Hey. Don't worry. I'm here with you. We both are. Everything is going to be fine." Not that their now unconscious burden is much help, but the point is that he is not actually wherever he's just gone in his mind.

[rightly]

His gaze is fleeting, unsure, not quite fixing on her when she turns his head. He's breathing hard but not out of tiredness so much as panic, even as he tries to force himself to stay calm, as if that alone can slow his heart rate down, or stop his mind from spinning wildly, getting lost in a memory so brief yet so overwhelming.

He nods first, not entirely convinced. There's a soothing edge to her voice, her tone a balm of sorts. He breathes once, twice, exhale shaky as it spills from his lips, but he can feel his heart slow down just a notch, the fog and smoke in his mind clearing just enough that he can see clearer. Two floors. And he's not alone. It's not the same. And he has a life in his arms to save, a life that's not his own. It gives him a different sort of motivation.

"It's fine," he nods, not sounding entirely sure. But he's sure enough to keep going. "I can make it. Let's go."

[unmakeme]

"That's right. You can. I'm Natasha, this is Bill, and we're all making it out together." When she starts moving again, it's with her arm stretched behind her at an awkward angle so that she can keep her hand on Steve's. She's still in front of the both of them, and if her grip is situated so that she can press two fingers against the inside of his wrist, feel his pulse, well, she's good at her job.

She's still moving in front of him, still ready to catch both men if his legs give out or whatever memory he's trapped in gets any worse. It'll hurt, at this angle, but pain is a constant in her life. This is fine. Everything is fine.

[rightly]

Steve grits his teeth a little, bites the inside of his cheek, whatever it takes for him not to succumb to the memory or the ghosts haunting his mind. He rushed to her to try and help, not to become a hindrance, and if he fails now he will only become a liability.

It's another flight of stairs before he realizes he hasn't given her his name back, and once they slow down enough that he can catch a breath, he looks towards her. "I'm Steve." That will have to do for now. Any further introductions, he thinks, can wait until they're safe and sound outside of the burning building. Well, them and anyone else that might still be trapped up here.

[unmakeme]

She wouldn't hold it against him. A liability is what she's looking for, if she's being honest. She's not, of course. Being honest. That's not the point, though. She needs someone else to be the wreck, someone to save. He's as good a person as Bill with the fractured ankle.

Steve.

Of course he's a Steve.

"You've got this, Steve. You can do it."

They make it down the final flight of stairs without any catastrophic incident, her hand firm on his wrist, the fire sparing them the worst of it this low in the building. The whole place is still hotter than fuck and smoky enough to be a constant health hazard, but they've got a straight shot to the front doors and clean night air.

[rightly]

He's not that much of a wreck, to be fair. Considering what he's gone through, and not even that long ago, it's a miracle he even manages to talk, let alone move or think while stuck inside a burning building. But if reassuring him helps her keep herself from falling apart, then all the better. Guess they're both helping each other a little, in a way.

Despite the heat, the comparative lack of smoke and flames and the promise of fresh air gives him further strength. He lets out an audible exhale, feeling himself shake to the core, and he trips up a little as he runs, in his rush to get out. He bumps against Natasha, Bill's body serving as a cushion of sorts, and Steve catches himself quickly enough, regaining his footing. "Sorry," he clears his throat, shaking his head to find balance again. "I'm fine. Sorry." He picks up pace again, rushing but more careful now as they run a straight line towards the front doors.

[unmakeme]

He bumps against her, and she immediately twists to support him, hands going to his elbow and shoulder. When he's steady again, she nods, and they keep moving. "We're almost there," she says, repeating it a few times until they reach the doors and she throws them open. Safety, the relative safety of the outdoors, and line after line of medical emergency workers.

She begins trying to urge Steve to the nearest one. "Someone needs to look at his ankle," she says. "Come on. Just a little further now. You can do it." Someone needs to look at Steve, too. She doesn't like the look in his eyes, the pinprick pupils, the shallowness of his breathing. She knows the external markers of someone having a Bad Time Of It. They're the same markers she's had to learn to suppress, after all.

[rightly]

A gust of air pushes in as the doors are thrown open, and Steve nearly stumbles to the side at the sudden rush of clean, cool air that goes into his lungs, making his head so light it spins a little on his shoulders. He lets out a gasp, feeling himself shake to the core, but his body keeps moving nonetheless, walking past other groups of people, some injured and others rushing in to help other people out.

He's only vaguely aware of some medics making their way over to him, and he relinquishes his hold on the man, taking a relieved breath when he sees he's being looked after. He closes his eyes then, and with an exhale tension bleeds from him like a broken dam. His balance falters and he falls sideways, the weight of his body threatening to slam against the closest solid presence, whether it's the floor, a tree or Natasha herself.

[unmakeme]

Natasha is right there, ready to grab him. The two medics have the man they saved from the building, and Natasha waves them on. She's got this. "Come on. We're safe now, Steve."

She slings his arm over her shoulders and props him up. He'll be all right. "You're going to be fine." She waits to see if he can muster the strength to walk on his own, over to the line of emergency workers with blankets and oxygen tanks and plenty of folding chairs to assess conditions before figuring out where to send people. If he can't, she's fully prepared to sling him across her back and carry him there. She feels just as responsible for him as she did for Bill. Bill has been handed off, and he's the medics' responsibility now. Steve is not. He's still hers.

[rightly]

His balance comes and goes, but he never quite loses consciousness completely. He's just taken by light dizzy spells that have him stumbling slightly, but the next moment he manages to regain his footing, and it's in that state that he follows (partly follows, partly leans on) Natasha as she guides him to one of the folding chairs.

He takes a seat without much protest, letting one of the medics check his throat for any burns, then takes the oxygen mask when it's handed to him. Inhaling from it somehow makes him even dizzier, and he lowers it a moment after, looking up at Natasha. "I'm sorry. This all just... brings back memories," he trails off, looking down and giving the mask another try. "Bad memories."

[unmakeme]

The medics try to look over Natasha, as well, but she waves each of them off. It's her insistence that Steve is in worse shape, that he needs the attention first. Even though she doesn't plan to take the attention at all.

"I don't think many people would have good memories of a burning building." She takes the mask from him, puts it over her own mouth and nose and breathes while she adjusts the levels. It gives her a little boost, and it lets her pretend that it's just making it easier for him. What she hands back to him is a more manageable O2 mix. It shouldn't make him as dizzy. "Try that. Better?"

[rightly]

He's not exactly in a state to insist she let the medics look her over, as he's currently more focused on regaining his balance and breath. He only looks up properly when she takes the mask from him, studying her for a moment, then giving the mask a try once she hands it back.

He nods when realizing the mix helps better like this. His heart starts to slow down, and his head's not spinning quite as wildly. The cool night air also helps. "You should let them look you over," he suggests gently, lowering the mask for a moment. "You won't help anyone if you collapse when you go back in there."

[unmakeme]

"I'm fine. I know where my limitations are." Which, all right, not entirely true. Even if it were true, knowing where they are and paying them heed are also two different things. She can't stop, though. If she stops, she's going to fall apart.

She needs to go back in. "You're going to be fine here. They'll take good care of you."

[rightly]

Steve raises an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her words, but in no fit state to argue. He just nods instead, which comes out more like a dismissive shake of his head than anything else, taking another breath or two from the mask as she gets ready to go back in.

"Natasha," he reaches out, catching her arm before she goes. He's only just met her, granted, but still the sentiment is true when he looks up at her and asks. "Please, be careful." If only because he wouldn't want to see any names added to the list of casualties. Or a list of casualties to begin with.

[unmakeme]

She smiles back at him, and it's weak, but it's there. She closes her hand over his, just for a moment. "I'm tough to kill. A fire isn't going to be what takes me out. I got this." She says it not only for him, maybe not for him at all. She says it because she needs to hear it, she needs to believe it. She needs it more than almost anything else in her life right now.