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Scene Title | And The Hell All Around, Part II |
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Synopsis | In which there are heroes, and villains, and the fine line is blurred. |
Date | November 8, 2010 |
The North Shore University Hospital, just east of Queens
The long, arduous afternoon of the eighth seems to stretch endlessly along; minutes turn into hours, seconds turn into an eternity. Those people that have been caught in the crossfire of either the riots or the fires often remain injured or dead on the street. In the far east of Queens, it is especially true. The stampede not long ago forced an entire mob to bottleneck the street. As a result, there are dozens injured, some poor souls trampled to death, at least a handful of shootings as the rioters squeeze out into the adjacent roads. The smoke and fires now lick at the November sky, curling trails of soot replacing clouds, and an orange tint pre-empting the dusk hours long before they are due. Cars sit gutted and burning along curbs, distant screams and the sounds of civilians rushing to and fro serve as ambient noise, along with the equally distant wailing of sirens. Much of the city's boroughs have seen some form or another of this upheaval, but Queens and its nearby areas seem to have been hit the most quickly, and will likely burn and ruinate for the longest.
East of Flushing, at the border of Manhasset, at the North Shore University Hospital, things have taken a turn for the worse. With spotty fires having sprouted up at intervals, one of them seems to have finally made it onto the hospital campus. At first, they thought that calling in the NYFD early could possibly prevent it happening. Like the police, the fire department is stretched thin- possibly moreso. However, they do prioritize with locations such as hospitals and centers acting as impromptu shelters. The campus of this hospital is surrounded by only its own buildings, the southernmost area being partially ablaze, as well as parts of the street opposite. It is also surrounded at that end by fire trucks and workers, hoses up and spraying that chilled water into the bottoms of the fires. Three trucks, at various points along the road. More may be coming, or may not.
Inside the hospital, it is a subtle, straightforward panic; person by person, room by room evacuation is taking place. A calculating moment, despite the immediate danger; those in intensive care go first, being led off by rogue ambulances to other hospitals, leaving more hospital workers to field the steady streams of people on the inside of the buildings. They come out in prioritized groups, and to waiting and kind volunteers with vans and cars. Still, it is an immense hospital, and while some of the worse cases have been filed out under the nose of the fire, there are still hundreds of patients and employees making efforts to both block off wings and relocate one another.
There was one thing that Nadira realized, en route to where she saw the most smoke and fire. While this was an applicable use of her abilities, it meant she was using her abilities openly and in front of people. The ball at Tartarus had been one thing, since it was masked, but this would be a blatant display. While most people would be worried about fleeing, there was likely to be a lot of people who wouldn't be happy with blatant ability use… and then there was also the potential for getting snagged by police… but she was thinking that chance was slim at this point. So long as she was helping.
Making her way closer, Nadira was certainly taking care (she'd promised to take care, after all) with what she was doing, staying back from the fire as she observed, looking for the best course of action—where she could draw water from, where she could direct it to, and if there was any better use for that than purely putting out fires.
The city is on fire, and insanity is taking hold! What a wonderful thing to wake up to after spending a night in the hospital, looking out the window to see fire everywhere. Elle Bishop stabilized in the wee hours of the morning after being stitched up and having blood pumped back into her. She woke in a hospital bed to the city aflame, with a fresh cast on her broken arm, a bandage wrapped tightly around her abdomen, and her knee kept in a brace to keep it immobile until the swelling goes down enough for her to get surgery.
She's currently one of the patients being brought out. Still in her hospital room, she's just now being helped into her wheelchair by an attendant. She has her pain medication attached to the chair, which is still hooked up to her arm; the electric blonde certainly isn't much game for actually running anywhere from anything. She's pale, and not feeling quite well, even with the morphine that is periodically dosed into her bloodstream.
A pair of crutches rested over the arms of the wheelchair (just in case), Elle is wheeled out of her room and toward the line of people waiting for ambulances. Despite her drugged state, she is aware enough to be anxious about this situation. It's November 8th, after all…
Though her camera is dangling in one hand and flashing it's red 'record' light at the world it seems that Holly is a bit more concerned with her fellow New Yorkers once she arrives at the makeshift village of the hospital. The young video-blogger does as best as she can helping out, helping patients here and there to walk to the relative safety of the lineup. If she's gonna be evacuated from her home she may as well make some good come of her suddenly free time!
And meantime, there are always those who fall through the cracks. The quiet ones, the ones who don't shout and complain and make a noise, the ones who just sit quietly and wonder what's going on. Ones like Milton. The wound on his abdomen almost healed, today was his appointment to have it checked one final time and to confirm no further treatment was needed, no cosmetic surgery, no risk of further infection.
He arrived nice and early as usual, signed in… and waited. And waited. He didn't know at first that all hell was breaking loose outside, or that the doctor he was booked to see had been yanked away from his post to deal with urgent cases who were descending on the hospital, or that the receptionist who booked him in had been told to evacuate to her home while she still could.
Finally, two hours later, he made up his mind to complain… and found nobody to complain to. Emerging from the doctor's clinic deep inside the hospital, he found out just what was going on.
Truth to tell, it wasn't a decision to be a hero or to help others that made him stay put in the hospital so much as a nagging thought that given the present mayhem all over the city, a hospital seemed pretty much the safest place to be. But so long as he was here, he felt he could hardly decline to do what he could for those worse off, and so here he is now, pushing a stretcher on wheels down a corridor, the little old man on the stretcher groaning in pain every time the trolley bumps something, ahead of Milton the medical orderly giving taut, nervous orders and directions to the poet turned medic.
The city is in chaos, but Warren isn't worrying about that right now, there's only so much that one man can do. He spent an entire month preparing, and things didn't go quite as smoothly as expected. Right now he's worried about his own personal endeavours, one of those being Elle Bishop.
He drove his car as far as he could, cutting through alleys and outright walking through buildings where he could to avoid the rioting. Finally at the hospital, he's holding a fire extinguisher, heading for the doors as the jacket of his black suit blows against him. She's in there somewhere, and damned if he'll lose her to some rioting.
There have been whispers of what has been happening to reach places like the hospital; much of the faculty knows that things are bad outside, but will be even worse if they remain inside. Many of the able bodied people, like Milton, have been corralled into helping the evacuation. If your limbs work, and you're not bleeding, the nurses figure you can help. The movement in the halls is like molasses after a point, squeezing tight as one gets nearer to the outside doors, despite the order that seems to be in place. People coming back in to assist are given a wide berth, and in Warren's case, the same. He must be here for a reason, right? Nobody sees reason to bother him as he races his way to get inside.
It is quite orderly, though with promise, a threat will always be lurking right behind.
The fire seems to be getting under control when it happens- something inside the part of the building still burning crackles loudly, and electrical sparks shoot from a fire-covered west wing and into the smoky air. The sparks set off something inside, only a rumble pre-empting a small- yet notable- explosion of at least three rooms on the bottommost floor. The floors above are early casualties, as the explosion takes the fire up and out, swallowing another great chunk of the wing. Inside, screams. One fire truck has no choice but to move quickly, a fourth arriving on the scene nearly at the same time; they both have the task of putting out a blaze that may not stand a chance of being put out. Not completely, at this point.
This is all kinds of not good. Nadira's a bit unsure of herself, and there's no time for that. Peering towards the chaos, she takes a few steps closer. She observes, looking for a section of the hospital that she can focus on, a section that would open another escape route for those who might be a bit more trapped. She's hoping it won't involve her having to go inside to do it, but…
Elle frowns as she reaches the line, her good hand reaching up to grip at the crutches. She's not sure how well she'll be able to walk even with their help, but at least they were kind enough to provide her a pair. It's comforting to know that she won't be encumbered by a wheelchair if she needs to make a hasty getaway. A glance is cast to the nurse, then back to the crowd. This is not good.
Eventually it starts to get a little too rough for the young reporter to continue seeking out further patients to escort - perhaps a miracle seeing as she's delivering a patient from somewhere nearer the blast to the line. It's still a bit more excitment than the girl is used to when an explosion can be heard behind her and she quickly stumbles to the ground, letting her camcorder slide and clatter perhaps a little less gently than ideal across the floor! Duck and cover is for explosions too, right?
"Back! Back!" cries the young orderly to Milton, flustered, as he sees the route he had hoped to take blocked by fire and collapsing buildings. There's no room in the corridor to turn the stretcher around, but luckily Milton doesn't have to; he just turns himself around and starts to tug the patient along after him, the semi-conscious oldster now progressing feed first instead of head first. The orderly squeezes past Milton and his patient, and pauses at a junction of corridors, wondering which way may lead to safety for the invalid — and for that matter, for the orderly and for Milton themselves. Because this is plainly no place for anyone to be any more, whether able-bodied or not.
"Elle!" Warren suddenly yells, always figuring a good suit will get him anywhere. People just assume you're someone important when you're wearing a suit, right? He hasn't spotted her yet, he's trying to carefully maneuver through the crowds, not yet desperate enough to actually push or shove. "Elle, it's Warren!"
Rumors are rumors, news is news, and sometimes those lines cross one another. News travels quickly in this day and age, but today, it has been very slow due to hundreds of variables. This is why, when the air outside turns more frigid, running cold with bolts of a chilling breeze, none of the firemen think twice about it, due to their equipment. For a few people in the milling, haphazardly helping crowd, however, it is eerily familiar, that foreboding cold creeping in without so much as a warning. Nadira knows it, especially- as she encountered it not more than an hour and an half ago. Warren may know it too, even if a distant memory.
Unlike the cold that he carries around with him, Bao-Wei Cong is of recently, unmistakable. He's coming down the main street towards the front of the hospital campus- the southern end, where there are currently firetrucks, firemen, a belt of bystanders leading around towards where they are evacuating. When one person spots him, several do immediately after, and in virtually no time at all there is a series of screams coming from those either trying to help or otherwise watching, some with videos going on phones.
There is probably a song on youtube about moments like this. At least twelve feet high and as broad as a large truck, a sentient, roaming, spiny golem of shimmering ice is hard to miss when it starts walking into view. Even harder to just sit and watch. A lot of those bystanders start scattering, a mild panic in mind, though there are still a lot that find enough peace of mind to simply stay back, as far as possible. And of course, record everything as the information age is wont to do.
Cong has no malicious intent towards the ones around the hospital. He is plainly, and obviously, just heading straight for the building. The firemen have no choice, despite shock and fear, but to remain where they are, or risk the fire spreading when they move the hoses away, or worse- something bigger catching a spark.
It's the ice creature again. Nadira's lips curve into a frown. Alright, was the ice creature going to stop the fires, or was he intent on crushing the hospital and banging his arms on his chest? She scowls, fists balling. She feels useless. Silently telling the world to screw it, Nadira moves towards where one of the exits was taken over by fire. Channeling water from the pavement, where it was no use to anyone, she forces it to coalesce into a stream of water, which she moves at the doorway, trying to tame the flames and make it possible for people to use that door as an exit.
Elle is still rather blissfully unaware of the goings on outdoors, stuck at the back of the line to actually get out of the hospital. She clutches at the crutches, frowning as she struggles to see over the heads of the crowd that's trying to escape the hospital.
Then, she hears that familiar voice calling her name, her eyes widening slightly. Warren? Come to save her again? She certainly didn't press her button. She doesn't even know where it went off to. Perhaps it's in the mess of a bag that hangs off of the back of her chair.
She tries to shout, but she's still feeling the effects of her stab wound and the resulting blood loss. Her response is feeble, not even audible over the sounds of flustered patients and nurses that have gathered. Warren's going to have to find her the hard way, sadly.
After the initial explosion, there's a little confusion for a good moment before Holly gets up to her feet, rubbing her head sheepishly as not many others took the tumble she did. She glances around as she gets back up to a crouch, and scrambles desperately to make sure her camera isn't busted - and indeed, it looks like it took the fall well enough, unseating it's SD card and dropping it's big battery which she is quick to put back in. She resumes her ongoing recording of events just in time to see the mammoth ice monster thing walking by her, startling her back till she falls on her bottom on the ground. The girl doesn't stop filming on the floor though, keeping the lens on the new arrival.
The exhausted orderly manages to steer Milton to a stairwell that remains undamaged and unblocked, and the two men manage to inch their way down it with their burden without dropping or upsetting the patient. They arrive at the bottom and manage to push their way into the hospital's big lobby… just in time to see the icy creation looming up on the building. "Holy mother of Moses!" gasps the orderly. "What's that?" Milton, exhausted, stares. "I don't know… but it doesn't look safe —" He turns around, but the crush of people that's trying to escape the hospital makes retreat impossible, even if the burning, crumbling hospital were really a safer prospect than the ice warrior ahead. Which is very much a case of frying pan and fire. Milton and the orderly have all their work cut out to prevent pushing, panicing people from upsetting the old man's stretcher.
Warren is also too deep to really see what's going on outside, though that familiar creeping cold does cause him to stop for a few seconds. He starts marching down that line, not sure if Elle is even down here, but if people are being evacuated, this seems like a safe bet. "Elle!" he calls again, getting closer to her.
Carnage, flame, and mayhem seem to be the order of the day with the riots. Jaiden and Delia spend the time before watching bad movies, trying to forget, but keeping an eye on the clock partially thanks to a timer that steadily counted down to zero. When the bell goes off, so did the city.
The radio calls started coming in almost immediately. His small shortwave radio was burning up with 911 calls, havoc in the streets, calls for backup, reports of looting. None of these really were anything Jaiden paid attention to, but the explosion and fire in a hospital? That's something that he can help with, what with Fire and Water not really getting along very well. Loading up with his backpack and a few other things (including a pistol in a holster beneath his left arm), he and Delia make their way to the hospital, partially to help, partially to scavenge useful medical supplies before they go the way of the injectable addict's veins. The smoke is visible from a distance, and Jaiden and Delia, slowly and carefully, made their way to the hospital. Surprisingly, the crowd was moving away, rather than toward, and the totally hard-to-see ice creature made it a little easier to get there. He would yell to the iceman but over the crowd he's pretty sure no-one could hear over the crackling of the ice and the screaming of the crowd. He's trying to get closer, past the cordon, to use his powers for good.
Glancing between Jaiden, the iceman, the firemen, and the various entry points to the hospital, Delia's nerves seem to have hit peak. "D-do you think they got everyone out?" She's bouncing on her tiptoes to try to see through the smoke and into the windows.
Chewing on her lip, she ducks to the side a little to try to get a better vantage point for sight.
At this point, she probably looks like one of those ghoulish people that stop on the road to watch a car accident. Really, it's more professional worry for whomever might be left inside. "Jaiden… do you think we could find another way around?"
The lobby, with its tall plate doors, gives anyone in there the best view from the inside out, to where there are several things going on at once. The moisture in the air begins to turn into a dusty, twinkling fog, shining like billions of diamonds and sucking up the leftover spray and lifting weightless into the air. It's not snow- more like a sudden cloud cover fed by the humidity of the hoses and water. The diamond dust whirls with the breeze, frigid air sweeping it up over the ground level of the hospital campus. The dust melts when it gets closer to the fire, sogging the ground and whatever it can get at through open doors and windows.
The creature is definitely causing it, with just an expounded appearance. When nobody tries to attack him- thank goodness for that- Cong sees it only as a new opportunity to take things further. Extreme cold cannot put out fires, but a contagious source of ice removes heat well enough- and in its primal state, ice is always going to be water. And given enough ice, it can do well enough in smothering flames when put at the point of combustion. In turn, the moisture created by melting the ice hits a high enough humidity to counteract said combustion. Bao-Wei seems to have at least thought this out to a point- he is not completely out of his mind- and not helping is going to be worse than if he does.
The slow pace he has when first approaching turns into a top-heavy trot, spined tail hovering behind an equally tined hide. The firemen he is suddenly barreling towards nearly panic when he does. But when the distance closes, so does his ability to interact with the high powered hose grow. Bao-Wei's talons spring up, the cold air coming off of him catches the water, and his own limbs crackle and snap out to latch on. The effect is immediate, and the reaction creates half of a bridge of ice, climbing of its own accord up the broad stream of water and landing- awkwardly headfirst- onto the side of the burning west wing.
A personal note, inside that frozen skull of his- he may no longer be able to get vertigo, but trying to land while being thrown through the air is a bitch.
Nadira's eyes flicker back to the ice monster, stopping in her own efforts with the water. She peers, trying to determine exactly what it was doing when it leaps and heads towards the west wing. Shaking her head a little, she glances back at the hospital, trying to regroup and figure out if there's anywhere to make a difference.
Elle frowns, raising her arm with the black cast on it. It doesn't offer her much visibility. The poor thing looks rather awful. "Warren…" She calls this out, still rather inaudible over the crowd. But she can hear him. She frowns, leaning back in the wheel chair, apparently content to let him come to her. She doesn't feel so well, and the morphine isn't going to last forever.
She's also still rather unsure what to think of Warren. Sure, it's nice that he comes to her rescue every time she needs it, but at the same time…she doesn't even know what she wants with this guy. Or if she wants him any more. Still, she has to be a little bit thankful for his presence right now.
She can see out of the hospital doors, in any case, and it's rather amazing and disturbing to see what she sees. She doesn't recognize it, but she knows that it's likely some insane Evolved of some sort.
The intrepid young reporter finally comes to her senses to get off the ground after a little while, enraptured by the sight of the ice-man. Though she doesn't want to get too close, it quickly dawns on her that she should definitely be recording this, and so without taking the time to dust herself off she jogs in the direction of the firefighting effort, at least as close as she can get as a civilian without getting herself in trouble. If this ice guy thing is going to do some heroics then Holly wants video!
"Come on!" Milton shouts to the orderly above the bustle. "We've got to get him out!" Somehow they manage to fight their way through one of the exits toward where ambulances are taking evacuees away to other hospitals less affected by today's disastrous events. Except that when they make it outside, there are no ambulances there any more; just the fire engines, and fleeing people… and… the looming ice behemoth, which descends on the burning hospital with a noise that can be better imagined than described. The orderly flinches. Milton almost cringes.
And the oldster on the stretcher, picking this least opportune of moments to regain full consciousness, hollers out "Can't you kids make less fuckin' noise?" in irate and very Jewish tones.
"What the hell are they doing out there?" Warren mutters to himself, but keeps his head in the game as he spots the briefly raised hand. It's a subtle change among the crowd, but he focuses on it. "I'm coming!" Now he starts running, then, finally, almost slides right by the wheelchair. "Huh?" Stopping, he looks over, then smiles widely. "You're here."
Find another way around. Well, that's technically possible, but with people streaming out of every exit, finding one to go in is a little different unless you improvise. Windows are generally unbroken but some have already been kicked out due to the exodus of the people within, and broken windows can be used as entrances in a pinch. Thank god he has gloves. "Watch the glass, Del…" Jaiden says as he hoists himself up, offering her a hand to clamber into the hospital. "Stay close to me and watch out for people in trouble. And fire. Fire is bad."
Stunned into silence, Delia is half paying attention to Jaiden and half watching the ice monster. Reaching for the Australian's sleeve, she tugs it a few times to point at the thing climbing. "Is that a— Is it… a person?" It must have been at some point, at least she hopes and not some horrible experiment of some secret government organization.
Finally snapping to complete attention, she turns her head to see Jaiden jumping through one of the windows. "Fire bad… yes… Find people." She's still a little dumbfounded about how something made of ice isn't melting in the fire. Pulling out a pair of shears, she cuts off the bottom of one of her shirts and holds it out to him. "Water?" Then she cuts off another and makes the same request. She's already coughing from smoke inhalation, which is likely what the water cloths are for.
Milton is thinking along the right lines- better imagined than described, but if it had to be- the sound of ice on ice, water on fire, and the rumble of people is best left to the imagination. Getting out of the hospital is now proving as tricky as getting in; the lines have come to a standstill, and at this point nurses are suddenly treating groups within the lower halls.
The thing is, Bao-Wei is melting. But only minimally, as talons and clawed feet scramble up the wall with the motion of an iguana and take him skirting along the blaze. Still, when your surface temperature is easily the same as Jupiter's clouds- it is going to take a little more effort to get Bao-Wei to turn into a pile of slush. Especially when he isn't staying still, and more water splashes over his back and cracks the bridge he created into the ground below, washing over the root of the fire once again when the creature moves upwards.
The water trails in a frozen path after him, grinding out spots along the roots of the fire and melting into water- the difference here is that the ice is being dragged up and over the side of the building where it cannot reach, and then onto the roof. The mass of the ice trailing along is enough to crackle and spread like a soaking sponge along the walls, both smothering and soddening. But he won't be able to do this forever, or alone- just hopefully, long enough for either a total evacuation, or until more trucks arrive. Between Bao-Wei on the rooftop, and Nadira flooding the floors and walls downstairs, there is at least a markable difference in the fire's ability to expand.
Nadira takes a few steps in closer to the building. She ignores most of what's going on around her. There's an impossible ice thing, but it's at least making a difference up higher. She, on the other hand, focuses on putting out whatever fires are near the exits, and soaking the walls and floors so that they won't burn so easily. She's being careful, of course, not to make the floors slippery. That would be bad.
Elle blinks up at Warren as he nearly skids past her, brows raised. Her smile isn't nearly as big as his, and she looks a little on the pale side. "I could say the same about you." She mumbles this, raising her casted arm and offering a stiff wave. "How did you know I was here? I— I'm really not doing so well." She grins feebly. "They say I'm going to need surgery on my knee."
Morphine is a helluva drug, and Elle is high as a kite while that morphine bag is still hooked up and offering a nice, slow drip into the saline line. "What on earth is going on out there? Is it like this everywhere?" She frowns up at the man. It's more than a little disturbing that Warren found her when only Richard Cardinal and Liz know that she's even here. "Can you take me back to Redbird? I— I'd feel safer there than here…"
The cameras keep rolling through the whole scene, Holly positioning herself the best she can so that she doesn't get in the way of the emergency workers but also keeping the iceman in view! One can only hope that it comes out well on the other end of the recording with all that bright fire overexposing the lens
At last another ambulance manages to make it through to the chaotic area in front of the hospital. The orderly almost gets himself mown down by it as he tries to stop it, and has to jump back, before grabbing its crew almost by their collars and making them open up the back to load up the now querulous old man, who seems quite unaware of the chaos and only wants to complain about being woken up. Milton steps aside to let the trained people take care of things, watching the course of events with interest. Now that he has a moment to observe, it becomes plain to him that odd forces are at work. Evolved forces. He reaches inside his jacket, touches his sunglasses, and frowns. His own evolved power seems very inadequate to him, just now, compared to what he's seeing going on. He's hardly going to be able to save any lives by putting on his shades and looking at the hospital as it used to be in 2003 or 1981.
Warren grabs the handles of her chair, starting to push her down the route he came from. The chaos is a little alarming, but he'll take care of it if needed. "It's like that over the parts of the city that the jamming didn't affect, and the idiotic media replayed the message and made things worse. I'm just getting my ducks in a row, protecting everything I need to protect." He doesn't say how he knew where she was, instead quickly switching topics. "I may have to leave you alone for a second if things get bad, I don't know what's going on out there."
Delia's request for water is easily filled, thanks to a burst pipe down the hall and Jaiden's power, the cloths soaking through almost instantly and staying wet almost instantly, allowing the pair to breathe considerably easier. A bit of water trails behind him obediently, almost like a dog lapping at his heels, ready to be used on any flames, and as he and Delia make their way down the hall, flames can be found fairly easily. He checks the doors that he passes, making sure no-one is inside before continuing to the next, stopping when they reach a junction. "So…left through the flames, right through the flames, or straight ahead?" He's trying to sound upbeat, but Jaiden is being very careful, listening for screams or tell-tale creaks of ceilings groaning under the weight of the floors above. Whichever way they choose, the water will go with them, a few well-placed squirts at the base of any flames they may encounter.
Wiping her forehead with the back of her sleeve, Delia glances up at the somewhat melted sign swaying dangerously from the ceiling. Assuming it hasn't turned or fallen she uses it as a guide to make her decision. "Pediatrics… that way," her muffled voice comes through the cloth a little louder than the sound of the fire.
The redhead glances down the corridor to the right and nods in that direction. "Pediatrics first… then the pharmacy." Hopefully they're not in two completly different areas of the hospital.
The wail of another truck is getting closer, meanwhile, one of the trucks working on the smaller fires seems to realize what Bao-Wei is trying to do- smother it- keep it from gaining ground, rather than trying to put it out directly. That would prove a mistake, eventually. They realign their hose to aim for him, amplifying the one he had ridden up into the air. The second hose pushes this well past effective; the creature on the roof absorbs the torrent as it comes, diamond dust blowing in sheets from the roof and littering the flames with the melting mist. The ice snaps and grinds out from Bao-Wei as the center, the rumble of a hollow chest hovering down out of the air into ears.
The pediatric wing, thank god- is not on the opposite side from the pharmacy. A smoky sign in the center of the ceiling points with little arrows- they are on opposite ends of the next junction.
Elle watches the others go past as Warren pushes her along, frowning. "Thanks for coming to get me…" She frowns. "I hope you don't have to leave me, but…just make sure I'm safe, or something." She cranes her neck back to look up at Warren. "I bet I look like crap right now." Then, she's back to looking at the chaos. At least she's high right now. She'd probably be freaking out, otherwise. As it is, she's taking it all remarkably well. Hoo-ray, opiates! Boo, injuries that really should have Elle laying in bed instead of being wheeled around a hospital.
The camera-armed girl keeps mainly focused on the ice creature's assistance, occasionally darting around to take in other scenes like the arrival of another truck. As far as she's concerned though, this footage is as good as gold and perhaps showing what this one fearsome looking monster does for the hospital will help change some peoples opinions just a little. Maybe.
Holly creeps closer to the line of firefighters, careful not to trip up the hoses or anything like that of course.
As dust and smoke from the fire and the crumbling building spread out across the area, Milton realises, perhaps belatedly, that he's still far from safe here. And there's no way he's going back inside that hospital. With a slight pang of guilt, but with a definite feeling of relief, he climbs into the back of the ambulance into which the elderly patient has now been safely loaded, and with a wail of sirens, the vehicle heads away towards another hospital and to safety.
"You always look great, Elle." Warren leans down to kiss her cheek, then keeps pushing until they're about twenty feet from the door. He doesn't push her out immediately, he's trying to figure out what the hell is going on first. "I'll make sure you're safe, but I don't want to go out just yet. And you don't have to thank me for coming to get you. If you're in trouble, I'm going to be there."
Well hell.
Jaiden looks at the signs then down to Delia, pulling her into a quick hug. "Be careful, watch for exits, and if it starts getting too hot, get the hell out of there. I'm going to check pediatrics to make sure everyone's out of there." Evolved hero saves babies from burning hospital. Nice headline that might get some people on the Evo's side. "Watch your backside, Delia." With a smile, Jaiden turns and heads to Pediatrics.
Nodding quickly, Delia taps her heart and points at him before jogging over the hot floor toward the inpatient pharmacy. A touch to the door reveals it not hot at the moment but also locked, unfortunately. Coughing, she blinks rapidly before looking down toward the way Jaiden ran to and decides to follow him.
She passes by a mursing station along the way and spies a keycard tucked into one of the door locks. Jackpot. Rushing over, she pulls it free and runs back toward the pharmacy. Whoever the card belonged to had enough clearance to get through the door and now Delia's there too.
Quickly loading her backpack up with bottles of pills and everything in the coolers, she secures it and heads back toward the door. She doesn't even know what she grabbed at this point, hopefully it's not a bunch of placebos and pills to relieve diarrhea.
Another touch at the door has her wincing, too hot… But there's no other way out. The redhead emits a rather high pitched whine before jerking the door open a crack and then racing toward the closest window. Thankfully, it's only a few rooms down…
Holly isn't the only one catching this on film, but she is probably the most bold, getting nearly alongside the firemen in her search for a perfect shot.
The ice spreads like- pardon the pun- wildfire. A third hose swerves to the same direction as a fifth truck wheels up out from a street to the north. Something in the structure buckles on the roof, and a fissure winds its way along the edge of the wall. The west wing was as good as lost when it caught fire- Bao-Wei knew this. He had no chance of saving it properly, even if he stalled the spread. The only way to put it out now? The golem on the rooftop crouches, and springs up- and his immense weight comes crashing down hard on the seat of the wing, where it connects to the main building.
In its weakened state, the wing begins to collapse from the force of being struck, and from the tons of ice pitting down on its crumbling foundations. The fire, the water, and the broken walls are swallowed up by gravity and pitch earthward with a deafening noise of screeching metal and hissing coals.
The hoses are still twirling through the air when it falls; Bao-Wei, before he too is swallowed up by the collapse, reaches himself out to grab onto the nearest stream. This time, the ice trails down towards the hose, thick and broad, the humanoid shape stretching out like putty into a serpentine shape. The men abandon the truck as if it were on fire. So to speak. The construct slams into it as hard as it had the building. The truck rocks onto its left wheels, teetering for a long second until it crashes and buckles down, practically smearing across the street.
The bad news? The big red engine is totalled. The good news? It's going to be easy to put the smoldering ruins of the west wing out, and be able to successfully pinpoint the small fires that sprang up inside. It is also good news that the pediatrics ward and the pharmacy weren't in that wing. The west wing consisted of the cafeteria, visitor's center, and above, intensive care. Missing an arm is better than losing a head.
Nadira's eyes are wide as she notes the destruction of the entire west wing of the hospital. This was chaos. It made sense, and it helped, but the pure amount of destruction was mindboggling. Still, the Egyptian woman turns back towards the hospital, moving closer and heading inside with a trail of water behind her as she searches for any fires still blocking exits. She's getting tired, though. That's quite a bit of water she was channeling.
Elle smiles faintly at the kiss on the cheek, though she makes no move to return it. Euphoria of drugs aside, she's still not sure about Warren— if things would even work with him after everything that's happened. The destruction prompts her to turn her head and blink a few times, frowning. "Warren…I don't really want to stay in here. I can still use my zap…if it's that bad, I can zap our way through." As if she could actually control it. She'd probably do just as much damage to herself and Warren as she would do to others.
This time the ruckus and noise doesn't startle Holly as much as that earlier explosion, the girl's camera following the action towards the smashing of the firetruck. She does for her part gasp aloud but keeps her hands as steady as she can manage. Something like this needs a bit of a closer look though, and so she inches towards the vehicle, mentally thanking herself for finding some interesting action to post online and breaking her recent slump in newshounding.
"Don't zap, you seem a little drugged up. Don't worry, I'm not empty handed, I can defend us both." Warren's eyes widen when he walks closer to the entrance, and a fire truck gets smashed. What the hell? He pushes her faster, out the door, then immediately turns away from the giant ice monster, attempting to casually ignore and walk away from the thing. "Fuck this."
The pressure wave from the collapsing wing sends dust and debris through the halls. It's only luck that has Jaiden behind a closed door and luckily has him avoiding most of the incoming stuff. Still, the collapsing of a wing does add a sense of urgency to his movements, the man following arrows and singed signs to Pediatrics. "Is anyone here? Is anyone hurt?" he calls out, his powers drawing what little moisture he can from the air and other water sources, gushing over the fire with a mighty hiss only to be reconstituted into liquid again from the steam and sprayed on all over again. "I'm here to help!"
The rumble of the collapsing building puts a scare into Delia and she kicks at the window with a growing sense of urgency. "Shit.. shit shit… into the building Delia.. always have to go into the burning building… What the hell is wrong with you?" Simple answer… it must be the Ryans gene.
Finally the kicking pays off and she puts a hole through it, just big enough for her leg. "Crap!!" Wrestling with her leg of her jeans she manages to pull free but not without tearing a nice hole in it. Looking around, she spies an office chair and grabs it, hefting it as hard as she can toward the window. It bounces off on the first try, knocking her off balance and causing her to tumble onto the floor. Another two swings at the window and one the third she releases it out onto the lawn. She crawls through the hole, coughing and wheezing when the fresh(ish) air hits her lungs. She doesn't recognize the side of the hospital she's on, so she gets up and wanders toward the street, away from the sirens.
A spinal shape arches out from behind the fallen fire engine, stretching up, cat-like, covered in long, jagged cones of ice. The lanky thing that slinks out from behind the truck swims right into view of Holly's camera, the cold air permeating everything to the core. A single golden eye stares her down from the safe distance, his aura feeling like a deep Russian winter. It sits a frame that looks like someone has stuck the head of a crocodile onto a snake, and pegged in a series of long avian legs. The mouth opens wide, air inhaling into a hollow formation with a shivering rattle, echoing out through the street. It doesn't stay long.
The long legs crouch downward, springing the beast into motion across the dead truck, claws scrabbling on asphalt and as forcefully as it crushed the west wing, it slams headfirst into a hydrant connected to one of the fire hoses, tearing it out of the corner and welting open the pipe underneath. Wherever it has gone, only the water knows.
Elle peeks around, past Warren at the chaos that they are leaving behind. Drugged though she is, her eyes are still a bit wide as she actually sees the ice monster. What the hell is that thing? She points with her casted arm. "The hell is that? Is it like a crystal lizard or something?" She frowns. "It's ugly." Ah, drugs. They really are making this a less stressful experience than it could be.
Shaking her head, she turns to watch the way ahead of them. "Let's get out of here."
Now /that/ kinda gives Holly the creeps, and she stumbles back with the camera as the thing glance at her. Okay so maybe she is still a chicken. She keeps filming it regardless before it takes off into the hydrant, her expression one of disbelief as it flows down the drain like so much waste. She takes a moment, then turns back to the building, capturing the firefighting still going on, even if the lions share seems to have already been wrapped up.
"Don't worry about it, let's just keep going." Warren speeds up, going to find a place safe for them both so he can remote control his car over to them, as hard as that'll be in the riots. "You're safe now, I'll get you back to Redbird. Let's just hope the city doesn't burn down by the end of the day."
"Definitely hope not. That would suck." Elle frowns up at the skyline, seeming to just now notice the smoke. "…This is insane. God, I'll be glad to get back to Redbird." She sighs, shaking her head. "I need to find a healer, if there are any alive after this."
It's not long before Nadira's got to give up. She retreats back out of the hospital, folding her arms over her chest as she makes her way out. She glances back towards the building, offering it a weak smile. At least she helped, but she didn't even warrant a lousy t-shirt. She'll slip off, likely, to find her way home to cold pizza alone.
Holly surveys the mop-up efforts, humming a little bit. It'll probably be a while before it's officially safe to head home, assuming the rioting gets under control. All in all, not a bad afternoon's work for her helping a few people and getting some really cool film to boot. If her house doesn't end up burnt down it'll almost be an okay day