The Shipment


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Notably Absent:


Scene Title The Shipment
Synopsis Due in part to his absence, the delivery of Shard's shipment of food and medical supplies goes somewhat awry.
Date October 16, 2009

Staten Island Boat Graveyard

The pink tinge of the sunset reflects beautifully off the low tide. Dusk has shown up in all her glory over the graveyard. With the sun setting over the horizon, flares of orange and pink dance over the long forgotten ships that rest peacefully in the swaying waters. Every now and then a creak or a groan can be heard from some of the closer old glories slowly rotting and decaying into eventual nothingness. But nothingness is a long time off.

It's a beautiful night, and a beautiful sunset. Picture worthy even, which is what some of the SAVE STATEN volunteers participate in as the crowd waits a tad impatiently for the main event. A few flashes and a few clicks snap up from digital cameras and iPhone's, but this is all from one distinct throng of people. Very different than those who wait only twenty feet away from them.

Unlike those volunteers dressed in the clean t-shirts, and nice jeans, the throng of Staten's forgotten huddle close together in eager anticipation of the shipment. Medicine. It is evident that many in this crowd are clearly in need of this kind of medicine, and it is why they have flocked to gather under the shadow of Vincent King to appeal to his mercy, to receive his hand outs.

Some of the volunteers stand out knee-deep into the water, eyes searching the horizon for any signs of boats. Boats that aren't rotting, that is. It's been such a long time since the invitation was sent out, it remains to be seen if anyone will even respond. There is a lingering tension in everyone. What will the nervous and sick mob do if what was promised is not delivered? Many are anxious, but still some remain calm in the face of uncertainty.

A few tables have been laid out further onto the beach where there is more solid ground and less icky graveyard water. Free food has been laid out as well as SAVE STATEN t-shirts and pamphlets. Most of the food has been all but demolished, leaving empty platters and crumpled cups litter the surrounding area of the tables as volunteers desperately try to keep the dying ground clean.

And then, right when everyone was starting to get real anxious…

The faint hum of engines are heard in the distance. Boats. Boats are on their way. The shipment is actually coming. A weight is lifted off most of the crowd though a knot of tension remains. Everything seems to be going according to plan, the medicinal supplies are on their way but there is still one problem.

Shard is nowhere to be found.

"Where the hell's Shard gotten to?" Andrew grumbles under his breath. He is dressed much as usual; leather jacket covering a teeshirt and shoulder holster, with jeans and sneakers, and he doesn't look particularly relieved as he hears the boats on their way.

"Where is he?" Peyton murmurs to one of the many volunteers; there's a new volunteer tonight as well in Aaron, who refused to let Peyton leave the house alone when she told him she was off to help at the event. The former socialite is dressed in jeans, Ugg boots, a "Save Staten" shirt on top of a long-sleeved thermal shirt beneath bedecked with tiny little blue birds all over it. Birds are very en vogue right now, not that anyone on Staten gives a flying feather. Her hair is parted in two braids, and she wears large diva-style sunglasses to help avoid being recognized in all those i-Phone photos being snapped and keep unnecessary light from striking her over-used eyes. There's the added benefit of covering up the dark circles growing beneath those eyes, to boot.

"I'm getting worried," she admits under her breath as she watches the boats approach. "What if something's happened to him?"

Not exactly a willing volunteer. There are really too many reasons to count for his attending this little soiree, some that even he hasn't considered. Nevertheless, Aaron finds himself amidst the volunteers with Peyton, dressed in a zipped-up sweatshirt under a longcoat. Jeans are his standard fare, and boots for once instead of the usual sneakers he typically wears. He offers little more than a shrug to Peyton with her concerns. He doesn't really know much about this little thing, keeping to himself far too much than he should. He feels fairly useless right now, and wishes he'd at least brought his guitar. Worse comes to worst, it's not the worst weapon a person could have.

Robin is halfway between the tables and the murky water, far enough away from it that he's not getting wet but close enough to hear the boats.

When the dull whirr of the engines gets a little closer, Robin moves to start unlocking the back of two vans. They're old and rusted out in spots, but the engines are solid thanks to a few mechanics he knows. They're definitely good enough to get the supplies to the hospital.

He looks around at the crowd, wondering where Shard is as well, but stays quiet, drumming his fingers on his jean clad thighs.

Magnes is wearing a 'Save Staten' shirt himself, but that's over his long-sleeved black shirt. He's once again in the vigilante outfit. Black gloves, black jeans, black sneakers and the black mask with the electronic collar around his neck. There isn't a hint of skin visible. He's wondering where Shard is as well, but his mind is mostly focused on making sure no one's trying to blow the ships up, standing on a van so he can keep a vigilant eye on the area.

Even the person who's supposed to be his bodyguard doesn't seem to know where he is. Stef, who's dressed in a hoodie with it pulled up and over her face, paces impatiently around. There's something off in her step, a missbalance of sorts, like she could be drunk, or possibly has a limp. It could be either of those things. Her hands are shoved deep into the hand rest/warmer in front, and a grumbling curse under her breath. The wind catches the hood as she moves, pushing it back enough to reveal her face some, which looks remarkably like Gillian's.

There's a low rumbling in the distance as a cargo truck rolls in the direction of the gathering of volunteers, bearing across its side the faded logo of Chicago Air - a name not very well looked-upon given recent mentions in the news, not that they'd truly been in operation for months.

Cardinal's behind the wheel, observing wryly to his passenger, "I'll give him this, but after this… he'd better start taking this threat seriously."

There is a soft annoyed sigh from the little blonde as she combs out of her face. Slumped down in the seat, booted foot propped on the dashboard. "Just this, I won't even push it next thing he decides to do." She murmurs. "I feel like I owe him for shooting the place up last time I helped him." Hands shoved into the pockets of her black hoodie, she glances over at Cardinal. "But I agree. Need to start taking things seriously. I mean… Coney Island was a scary reality."

This is one of the rare times when Robin's t-shirt doesn't have a smart ass saying on it. Instead it's a solid dark blue, worn under a beat up leather jacket. He zips up the jacket to keep the cold out and talks to a few of the volunteers, attempting to organize them a little for when the supplies are ready to be shifted off the boats.

Once that's done, he steps away from the vans, using his height to look over the crowd, hoping to spot Shard. "Come on, Shard. A no-show would really suck tonight." Master of the obvious.

"He's not coming."

It's the first mutter among many that support the sentiment. Other comments are made, these a tad more dangerous. Suggestions that Shard is shirking on his promise. That he plans on taking it all for himself, that he would have his thugs bag it up and sell it off. Some in the more homeless crowd resist such thinking, but many fall right into it. An unhappy murmur slowly turns into a loud accusation and it is quite obvious that the crowd is getting suspicious if not overly angry. But it does seem that is the direction that groupthink is taking them…

Yet it all centers with one man. He would be handsome were it not for all the scruff, the worn out and torn up clothes, food stains everywhere, even a bit on his chin. Were it not for hygeine, this man would be gorgeous. Yet even though he is not much to look at as it stands, his tongue starts to fuel a fire. With a latino man on either side of him, supporting every word he says the man continues to encourage the mob. "If we want any for ourselves, we'll have to take it!"

The boats finally come into sight, several mid sized speed boats, with only a driver each the rest of all the available space filled to the brim with crates. There is quite a lot of medicine…

The boats start to near the shore, slowing down as not to run aground on the deceptive ground under the water. The boats had to maneuver deftly around the dying and dead ships, one of the speedboats even seems to be snagged off the shore a bit, the driver looking a tad concerned as he does not seem to be able to get the boat moving again.

The other boats start pulling in, drivers sending wary glances at the crowd before motioning that whoever is supposed to unload these things should do so quickly.

Still no Shard.

"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" Andrew roars, his Northern Irish brogue more noticeable due his tone, before continuing loudly, "So Shard isn't here yet. Any one of a number of things could be holding him up. We'll make damn sure everyone gets their due, with or without him."

Overhearing the rumblings of dissent among the rankled, Peyton frowns and stands on her tiptoes to look for some of the other leaders among Shard's group of merry men and women. This doesn't bode well. She may be naive and ignorant about many of the ways of the world, but she knows that people who are desperate, people who have nothing, if left to their own devices to distribute the supplies will not do it in the orderly sort of fashion that Shard's group envisions. "If we get trampled, don't hate me," she mutters to Aaron.

She tucks her hand in his elbow. "Going in blind," she says in a lower voice, meaning she's going to use her power, so don't leave her to the vultures. Her pupils suddenly dilate fully, as her own surroundings disappear from her vision, putting her in Shard's perspective. She gasps a little and shakes her head, eyes coming back into focus. Peyton pulls out a phone, glancing at it as if she's just received some information of importance on it, before she glances over at Andrew, who seems to be taking up the "leadership" role in Shard's aspect.

Making her way through the throng of volunteers, she stands close to whisper in his ear.

"He's hurt or something — it's dark, there's dirt, the ground… I think maybe he's facedown, hurt somewhere, I didn't get a lot of detail. You need to cover for him. Pretend we got a text, and you're now in charge or something. Act with confidence, or they'll eat you alive." She hands him the phone, the screen blank but for its background image of a cat with its face in a goldfish bowl.

"He'll be here." Robin at least sounds completely sure of that fact. He lines up some volunteers and has them start passing the boxes along from the boats to the vans.

Keeping an eye on the crowd, Robin cracks his neck to ease some of the growing tension, though it doesn't help much. Nodding towards Andrew, he adds, "He's right, no one's taking this for themselves… it'll all get to where it needs to go."

"Sounds like fun," Aaron replies to Peyton sarcastically as he moves along with her, though he doesn't follow to where Andrew is. He's spotted what looks to him to be a rather familiar face, and so he approaches Stef. Her apparent lack of balance concerns him a little, and he moves to gently brush a hand on her shoulder, "Hey, Gilly, you OK?"

Fiddling with the controls on his collar, Magnes turns the voice distortion mostly off, it's only on just enough to disguise a hint of his voice, but anyone who knows his way of speaking very well could easily identify him. He turns the volume up rather loudly, to get the crowd's attention. Can't have a riot starting…

"This isn't about Shard." he announces to the crowd, arms crossed as he looks like some sort of humanitarian assassin, with the combination of his outfit and the clashing 'Save Staten' shirt. "Do we need Jesus for morality? Martin Luthor King for freedom? Al Gore to save the environment? Obama for change? Freakin' Superman for truth, justice, and the American way? No. We're the people, one man doesn't save the world! We're here, and we should act just like we would if Shard were here. Where ever he is, he's still here in spirit, and that's what matters!"

With those here to help is a rather silent fellow. Has been since the whole shouting and such begun. Anxious? Perhaps a little, but as Andrew offers a sharp yell, he's gritting his teeth for a moment. Eyes remain on those who seem to be getting antsy, and despite reassurances from the other Volunteers, Canfield is himself-feeling it too. Shard's one of his best friends-hell the man could be considered family, so when he doesn't show…It is enough to make him worry. Arms unfold from his chest as he moves to get a way from a few, possibly brushing, or knocking past someone, as that fist of his curls and uncurls. Reflexes.

Swallow, and breathe. This is not that hard, still the nappy hair'd man can't help but let his attention be divided by three ways-Vagrants, Volunteers, and missing Shard! "Man," a look over towards Andrew for a second. "Remain calm, and clear. Or else they'll bolt-" which could mean towards us, the volunteers-or away. Luckily for now-Stephen is completely oblivious as to the news though concerning his friend.

There's a startled blink from the young woman in the hoodie, making it drop away from her face even more. For the first moment she looks furious at all the outbursts, or perhaps the fact that her boss isn't here. But then she looks at Aaron in confusion. Who is he? She steps a bit towards him, half expecting him to be able to answer her question. A question which just happens to be, "Do you know what happened to…" Shard. That's where it was going to go. It doesn't quite get there. She stumbles, seeming to lose her balance, and ends up buckling, falling toward Aaron. Catch!

"If you hadn't," Cardinal points out with a rough snort of breath, even as the heavy cargo truck rumbles along up near to the gathering area and he slams the brake into park, dust stirring by the wheels as the weight of the rolling machine comes to a halt with a squeal of ill-repaired brakes, "God knows what that psychotic sonuvabitch would've done next, Claire. We had to move to stop him before it was too late."

The driver's side door is pushed open, and he hops out to the ground beside it, stretching briefly and turning his head towards the gathering with a frown as he catches the end of Magnes's little speech. "Ah, shit. What's all this, then?"

Clint takes a step forward, one dirty hand scrubbing over his stubble as a grin is plastered on his lips. Looking this way, then that, he continues to fuel the fire. "This is just what White said, they'll support the government, take what we need, and throw us in a fucking prison!" Clint isn't an advocate of the people, nor does he care whether the sick get their medicine. The supplies in those crates are worth a lot of money, money to get him out of this cess pool, money enough to get things started. The shouts from Andrew and the consoling words from Robin don't seem much cooling affect on the mob.

The serpent still whispers in their ear. As the crates are unloaded, rather hastily, Clint takes a few steps forward. Glancing to the tall latino on his left he utters something quietly. "Show them we mean business, Lupe." A gesture is waved at one of the vans. Leaning over to the shorter and stockier man, Clint points at the van Magnes stands on. "All you, Javi."

The whiter of the three takes a step back, moving to gesture his arms wildly to the crowd. "The good people on the other side of the water have seen fit to give us their money to give us their supplies. And these!" A wild finger is swung at the general area of Magnes and Andrew. "Don't want you to have it! We have to take what's ours!"

A dull roar starts among the crowd.

Yanking the handle and leaning into her door, Claire slides her feet off the dash and turns to hop out."Is that…. Magnes?" She murmurs and then sighs. She wasn't going to bring it out of the vehicle, but seeing the crowd starting to get wild, Claire leans into the cab to pick up her nice new shotgun and slings it on her shoulder, letting it swing there til she needs it, shells tucked into pockets. "So much for trying to do it his way." She calls across the distance of the truck. "I'm not about to face them without my baby." A sideways glance to Cardinal. "Can't we have a day where we don't need to shoot someone? I'm wearing my favorite hoodie too." Obviously she's expecting it to get ruined her soon.

"Yeah, because that always ends well. And how many of you will actually get what you need by doing that?" Andrew asks loudly. "Think for one fuckin' minute here; if we really wanted to stop you from getting the medicine, why would we do it here? Why wouldn't we have just intercepted the cargo before it ever arrived? All we're asking of you is a little patience while we get the medicine ashore. Surely that's reasonable. Then, we'll see to it that everyone here gets what he came for, instead of just those lucky enough to get to the crates first. Including you," he adds drily to the man who's trying to whip up the mob.

For once, Robin is actually carrying a gun. It's a simple 9 mm tucked into the pocket of his jacket, and he's hoping not to have to use it. Glancing over at the three guys talking about taking the supplies, he steps in and starts helping move the boxes in to the vans, urging the volunteers to go faster.
Robin has partially disconnected.

Peyton's pupils have gone wide once more, making her look like a blind girl for the few seconds she's using her power. "White has him…" she mutters. "I saw White earlier, in some old factory here, with that guy Doc and a woman, I think it's the chick Cardinal said was Risa." She shakes her head. She sees Cardinal, and frowns. She needs to tell him this. "I don't know if it's the same place." This is all low, meant only for the ears of Andrew and the other men closest to her.

Peyton sighs. "We went to the effort of getting these supplies for you; why would we keep them from you?" she calls out. "We're giving you free care at the hotel, we've brought you free food. Trust in that. Let us unload these and distribute them the way Shard planned." She lifts up her cell phone. "Shard's been detained, but we're doing what he promised you. I promise. We promise." She hadn't meant to address the crowd, and her voice doesn't carry as well as some, but she hopes it gets through. She begins to move toward Cardinal and Claire to deliver her news.

Well that's just great. Aaron catches Stef deftly in his arms and hauls her upright before giving her cheeks light slaps, "Gillian, hey Gillian." Which is of course when it all clicks. Shit. "Shitshitshit." He looks around to find Peyton but has so inconveniently lost sight of her. "Damnit. Gillian, wake up, please." He hasn't quite hit panic mode yet, never mind the fact that people are getting ready to riot. Some things just take precedent over others. When he finally does catch sight of Peyton — at least, he's quite sure it's Peyton — she's too far away to go calling out to, so he pulls out his phone to quickly text her: "Gillian's down."

Magnes jumps from the truck and down to Peyton, which involves some minor flight. He's not gonna be a target on the truck when people are getting all riled up now. "Shard's being detained? Where is he?"

It is the news from Peyton that has Canfield, not so much hurrying to help unload, instead he's changing course, making more or less a B-line for the woman. One hand reaching out to try and catch her shoulder, though a strange almost homeless looking black man, might not be the best thing to have come up on you, now is it. Still There's a hand of his, and if he is able to catch the woman, he is going to grip a little harder, than intended.

"Hey!" oops a little more frantic-which is not going to serve at all, but still Stephen is going to try and see what information he can get, if he can get a hold of the woman long enough to find out: "What's happened?" Yeah she doesn't know him from Adam-yet the thought never seems to cross Canfield's mind. Oh how blind emotions can make one.

"Oh yeah, this is totally going to end well. Keep your baby warm, Red," Cardinal's nose wrinkles in a brief grimace as he heads into the crowd with Claire beside him; heading into the chaos in a deft mingling withit rather than circling around to those supposedly organizing the event. Maybe there'll be some indication of just what exactly is going the fuck on around here tonight from that side of things.

Lupe and his masculinity may be under debate, but as the man takes a step forward the debate on whether there will be a struggle or not for the supplies is abruptly ended. A ragged coat is flung off his back, the Puerto Rican flexing his hands for a moment. Drawing his arms back he closes his eyes for a moment before thrusting his hands forward as if in a karate stance. For a moment, nothing happens. And then…

Flames leap from the man's hands as if they were equipped with large flame throwers. The fire is propelled straight into one of the vans, causing volunteers to backpedal and flee from the vehicle. Lupe wears a slight grin.

Javier however, the shorter and more stocky of the pair is running. Running at the other van, the one which Magnes was so recently standing on. Even though he simply looks like a short Mexican charging a van, those loading the van pause with the loading, intending to give this man a wide berth as well. Lowering his shoulders, Javi rams the side of the van.

Which sends it toppling up and over, and rolling away from the man.

More flames erupt into the sky now, as the first van crackles in flame. Clint takes a smooth step forward to address those in the crowd who are not already fleeing. "Take what's ours!"

Fire bad, tree pretty. Robin jumps back from the roaring flames, cursing a blue streak. "Oh yeah, that fucking helped everyone, set it all on fucking fire. Great plan."

Now he's moving to help any volunteers get away from the flames that are pouring off the one van, and hoping some of the others will get things under control. If that's even possible.

"Nice and toasty," Claire comments, a hand patting the shotgun lovingly as they slip into the crowd. Of course, being as short as she is, she has to rely on Cardinal to guide her where to go. When things erupt, Claire rolls her eyes and grumbles a bit. "What now, boss?" A blonde brow is arched at the shadowman, while one of her hands grips her shot gun to make sure it's not taken from her in the erupting violence.

Andrew grumbles as he notes that any shot would probably end up hitting a civilian in this chaos. Looks like he'll have to put those muscles to use… He walks calmy towards Lupe, preparing to dodge any flame sent his way, and if he gets to Lupe reasonably unharmed, he punches straight at the man's jaw. He still remembers the last time he punched something this hard; his hand hurt horribly afterward, but then punching a hole through the side of a lightly armoured vehicle will do that…

It's too much. Magnes appearing in front of her, to which she says, "Out of my way, Vader," despite her heart that skips a beat; then the grab of her arm from the stranger — she's seen Canfield around among Shard and the volunteers, but she jumps beneath his touch; and finally, the actions of Lupe and Javier. Her heart rate jumps, her adrenaline begins to flow, and her still new power overtakes her for a few moments.

She's driving a van through the ruins of Midtown. She manages to see, through a glance in the rearview mirror, it is William Dean's eyes she has slipped into. Peyton gasps, stumbling blindly on a rock on the ground that sends her pitching forward onto her knees. In her pocket, her cell phone buzzes with Aaron's text, but her eyes are not hers at the moment; she cannot read it.

The vision is too much; she's been using her power at least once an hour for the past several days. Still, what she sees is useful.

The van drives past a very famous building, then pulls into a building across the street. She gasps again, kneeling on all fours in the dirt as she is; she doesn't dare return her vision to her own surroundings, dangerous as they are. The van parks in the same parking structure she's seen before, but when Dean gets out of the van with a handful of masked men, they disappear down a tunnel, maneuvering through several checkpoints where they are waved through by armed men, and finally into a room filled with weaponry and body armor, then past an empty room, and then toward a door guarded by two men.

Peyton whispers, "I know where they are," and passes out, having earned her very first psychic nosebleed, as she slumps forward in the dirt.

First Stef, who he thinks is Gillian, passes out right into his arms and now fire is flying through the air. What. the. fuck. That's what goes through Aaron's head. It's like slow motion for a moment. What in God's name did he get himself into. This is so not what he was expecting. He just didn't want to be home alone again, damnit. He hits the deck all while covering Stef up in time to see another body hit the ground. It's like a waking nightmare. If things didn't appear so dire, Aaron might go into full-on panic. Instead, he heaves Stef up over his shoulders and heads towards where he saw the other body fall. It's a miracle he saw anything, really, but between all the legs while he was on the ground, it was surprisingly easy to spot.

Given that it's where Peyton was headed, he feels whomever it was she was heading for is probably trustworthy enough, and the area will hopefully be more protected than the middle of a crowd that's rioting and throwing fire, or something. He can't really comprehend precisely what's transpiring, and he's almost positive he doesn't want to. When he comes upon Peyton's downed body, the only words that make it out of his grit teeth are, "You're so grounded."

Since someone's already taking care of the flame manipulator, Magnes quickly flies after the man who just ran into the van. He's not looking to actually hit the man, he just tries to grab his shoulder from behind and press hundreds of pounds of gravity against him in every direction, trying to hold him frozen in one spot. "Everyone calm down or you'll end up destroying the medicine we're trying to give you!"

"Where is he?" That's really all Canfield can think to ask, that is before the girl he has his hands on slumps forward in the dirt, and there's a blink "What the fuck?" Yes, that is Stephen's first reaction before he is moving down with the girl who is slumped right there she is. It all happens so fast doesn't it? The fact that a van is knocked over, and a tree bursts into flames "Shit!" Still, Cans isn't leaving the poor girl's side, instead he's looking up towards Aaron who has shown up. And there's a faint tick under his left eye as that jawline hardens, and something inside is becoming apparent of being coiled too tight-snapping

"Calm Down.." a murmur more or less to himself-a quiet mantra that's being kept in tune. Just swallow-and breathe, or there will be more than rioting people to worry about-And its that tiny bit of control that has Canfield's mind at the moment- That and the poor girl he is shaking down by his feet.

Now that their two vans are ruined, Robin looks around and spies the Chicago Air cargo van. "All right, everyone. Start carrying what you can over there." He hefts a box of food and heads that way himself, urging people to follow.

Okay, now things are catching on fire. Cardinal pulls up short, and gives his head a tight shake, "Fuck it. We're out of here; Claire, let's get the hell back to the truck and get our shit the hell out of dodge." He shoves a shouting man in the crowd out of his way, starting to work his way back to his vehicle. Fortunately, he's not very far yet.

One thing about having someone bigger around, Claire is able to follow are Cardinal's wake. Ducking past this person or that, her shotgun held protectively while she glances past Cardinal to the group beyond. Her hand moves to snag his arm, and leans against him so that she can be heard over the roar of the crowd and motions to the group with her chin. "Is that Peyton on the ground?" Her eyes squint a bit. "Hey.. I know that guy. Is he carrying Stef.. or is that Gillian?"

The drivers are nearly helpless as there is a mad dash for the remaining crates in the boats. With the two vans all but destroyed, the volunteers are left hanging on what exactly to do with all these boxes. But finally direction from Robin sends the volunteers quickly hustling for the huge Chicago Air truck. A few of the boat drivers are quickly dropping out to give their boat a little shove, some with help of the volunteers to back up and get the hell out of here.

However there are three boats left, one being quite stuck and the driver getting very frantic. The three remaining boats are still full of boxes and crates and rapidly being approached by homeless vagrants, wading into the water at quick clips.

Lupe smirks as teh van he set fire to, explodes, sending bits of fire and auto parts spraying around in the direct area. Though most of the crowd is safely out of the way, a few are knocked off their feet from the sheer force. Turning somewhat, Lupe watches as the volunteers start to redirect themselves toward the Chicago Air truck. Another smirk as he lifts up his hands again…

Quite unaware of the rapidly approaching Andrew, Lupe would most surely be caught in a devastating punch and most instantly killed. But Andrew's punch never lands. Instead it's Andrew's body that lands nearly ten feet from where he stood just moments ago. His flight path knocking down several civillians on his way. What sent him on this sudden flight? The short stocky form of Javier stands in the place where Andrew did seconds ago. Straightening up the man rotates his shoulders before glancing behind him, a hand almost landing on his shoulder.

But Magnes' wrist is slapped away and grabbed, held firmly by a scowling Clint. "What do you think you're doing?"

Lupe on the other hand, blissfully unaware of his near death and salvation raises his hands up. Two people heading for the Chicago Air truck. Flames propel out of Lupe's hands again, streams of fire flowing rapidly towards Claire and Cardinal.

Andrew rises to his feet and dusts himself off. He cracks his knuckles, grateful for the fact that's he's somewhat more durable than most, and walks over in order to try and return the favour, trying to throw Javier at Lupe before more fire can be thrown; the throw hard enough that if they were both regular people, they'd suffer a fair few broken bones.

The lithe body of Peyton Whitney lies unconscious for more than a few moments; finally she moans, pushing herself up to her knees. The sunglasses have cracked against the ground, cutting her cheekbone just below one eye, and there is the dribble of blood from her nose. She pushes the broken sunglasses off. She's pale and sweaty and beginning to shiver.

She looks at Canfield, trying to remember if she knows or trusts him, and gives a shake of her head. "Where'd Richard go?" she says, pushing herself up to her feet. "I have to tell him where they are … Shard, White, Dean, Wendy." She frowns up at Aaron holding Stef. "Stef okay? What happened to her?" she asks. She takes a step toward wherever it was she last saw Cardinal and Claire, and her knees begin to buckle. "Dammit."

"Stef?" Aaron asks. It fails to compute for several long seconds that seem to drag on for several minutes before it dawns on him that Stef is the clone Gillian had mentioned. If not for the fact that she looks just like her, he would sigh in relief. Unfortunately, he has a feeling he still knows what's going on, but manages to not say it. "I don't know, she just passed out. Are you OK?" He's starting to have trouble breathing, because frankly, adrenaline only goes so far. He pulls Gillian further back away from the crowd and the crazy psychotic dregs of society making hell out of what should have been something peaceful. It really tears him up to watch Peyton stumble as she does, but his priority right now is to protect the one who's completely out. "We have to get out of here."

"Keeping people alive." Magnes answers, not inclined to stand there and keep talking, he attempts to do to Clint what he just attempted with Javier, pressing pounds of gravity against his body to subdue him. He's yet to draw either of his guns, he's trying to keep things relatively bloodless.

The girl is kinda moving and Canfield, does at least snap out of his state for a brief moment. "Who?" He's got no clue who the hell Richard is. "Look-I'm trying to find Shard.."Though the rest of the names..White-boy does that bring a sick fucking feeling to his stomach. Enough that he seems to just go silent as eyes widen for a second. And there's almost a sleepwalking way that Canfield manages to move after Peyton, that is till she is starting to buckle. Instinctively, one hand shoots out moving to grab her hand-before she can fall. Hopefully it will help some.

Still though not helping the situation at all, would be the fire-the gunshots, hell the people fighting. And there, his grip might be vicelike. "Hold onto something." said for anyone close by listening-Because there's that snap, that has been building up.

There's a sound almost like a small tear before it appears with a distortion of light, there up a few meters in the air and away from Canfield-one swirling mini mass of gravitation. The force enough to take up any nearbye pieces of van, guns, boxes, sunglasses, people who are not too heavy and mid air-Well you the the idea. Held for a minute, enough to do quick damage, but hopefully not kill anyone-Hopefully. But its the display he was going for-and then it will be cut like that.

"ENOUGH! E fucking NOUGH!" yeah some yelling dude in a crowd will get attention right? "If I see anymore SHIT! I will FUCKING bring down this Island, and all of you with it." Huuuuuge bluff there. HUUUGE Bluff. "God help me, I will fucking do it." Hopefully it will cause enough of a stir to either A: stop shenanigans. B: Distract enough for others to stop shenanigans. Hold onto your butts.

Robin tries to duck out of the way of the falling debris, but ends up getting clipped in the shoulder by a piece of metal from the van. He goes down to one knee for a moment because, ow, and gets up slowly, blood dripping down his arm.

It only takes him a moment though to go back to herding volunteers to try and get the supplies moving again. He sees Cardinal and Claire running for the truck but has no idea that it's theirs of if they're taking it.

Lucky for Cardinal, Claire stands behind him and so is the one that get slammed with the fire. She gives Cardinal a shove away from her, before the flame can engulf her. It's not pleasant, but she endures the pain with a small grunt of pain. Clothing burns rapidly, broiling the skin underneath. It doesn't take long for the small blonde to go to her knees and pitches forward on the ground.

One would think at that moment as the fire eats away her flesh that she'd pass out right away, instead she rolls back and forth on the ground trying to put herself out. Horrified members of the crowd rush forward to help pat out the flames. When they are out, Claire lays still for a moment. The crowd around her suddenly gasps as her arms move, hands press into the ground and she pushes up to her feet again, a lovely blackened and bloody looking corpse with scraps of clothing still hanging from it.

As soon as she is on her feet, Claire quickly snatches a long coat from a stunned on looker, throwing it on even as she starts to heal… a girl has to maintain her modesty somehow. "I loved that hoodie." She grumbles lightly, but then the he finds herself pulled towards the hole in the air, dropping to her butt and trying to dig in the heels of her melted boots. Then it's gone again. "What the hell was that!?" Claire stares at the Canfield, who is now a short distance from her, with wide eyes, blackened and red flesh still knitting from being burned to a crisp.

To say Aaron has had more excitement that he ever wanted would be a gross understatement. First, there's fire flying through the air. Then, a miniature black hole sucking things in, and then a girl set on fire. But what freaks him out the most, oddly, is the girl's flesh knitting itself back together. If he didn't just pass out from it, folding himself over Stef in the process, he'd probably vomit.

"Oh, hell…"

The flames blossom in the direction of Cardinal, and his handily invincible bodyguard of a blonde slams into him violently, shoving him away from the worst of the pyrokinetic's twisting inferno that singes through the air. He's blinded by the heat that sets his jacket to smoldering, twisting his face away from it and snarling out, "Mother.. fu.. kill that son of a—"

That, of course, is when a gravitationally-flying chunk of van clocks him in the back of the head and lays him out like a prizefighter on the ground.

A little smirk from Javier is given as Andrew approaches, his shoulders lowered. Lupe is finally aware of the superstrength battle behind him and is quickly retreating away from the two scrappers, hands a blazing to clear a path. The crowd is mostly dispersed now, leaving a few of the more desparate destitutes wading through the water and attacking the drivers aboard. Struggles are put up as the remaining three boats are quite literally being pirated.

Javier throws one fist up at Andrew which is caught by the other man. Growling, Javier goes to start to shift his weight to try and deliver a knee at the man but that is all before he is thrown. Flying through the air, Javi falils his arms wildly as if to grab onto something until there is a pop in the very fabric of space and Javier is sucked into it quite easily. And then the vortex disappears leaving Javier completely gone.Not a trace of him left behind.

"What the fuck?! What the fuck?!" Lupe is practically screaming. Looking around wildly, the man seems panicked, flames dancing along his hands. Flinging one arm one direction and another to the opposite, two jets of flame are let out in different directions. One pointed at Andrew and one at Canfield. "Fucking Javi, it's not worth it, puta, we have to get the fuck out of here!"

A brow is twitched at all the yelling as Clint gives a feral stare up at Magnes. "Neat trick." He comments smugly, and rather defiantly lifts his arm up, quite easily and places it on Magnes' opposite shoulder. Seemingly unaffected by the trick, Clint does something that may very well surprise the ninja-cop. Gravity is flipped around. Certainly nothing new for Magnes, and nothing he can't easily fix. But for a few fleeting moments Magnes finds himself drifting upwards and not by his own decision.

Clint is rapidly turning to throw his gaze to those stealing the last few crates from the boats. Those have to be his, and with that, he is flying towards the boats.

"Son of a bitch," Andrew says, stunned at Javier's demise. Around that time, a ball of flame rushes towards him. Andrew dives out of the way, but his legs are caught in the flame. As he lands on his back, he snarls wordlessly from the pain, and tears the burning fabric from his jeans. That one's definitely going to hurt in the morning - and for the next few mornings after that…

"What was … did you do that?" Peyton says, almond-shaped eyes now round in her fact, whirling on Canfield. "Shit…" And then down goes Aaron with Stef. "I don't know where he is, but Shard's hurt somewhere, and White's with him. I saw White earlier at some factory, it's here on the island," she rattles. Better to tell the crazy wormhole-popping man what she knows, she decides now, since he apparently can kill her or send her away to god knows where in some strange dimension like Alice in Wonderland or something. She glances back and sees Cardinal on the ground. "Shit… what are we going to do…" She starts tugging on Aaron, to try and wake him up, and get them to shelter.

When Magnes finds himself drifting up, and spots Clint flying away… it's just like with Shard. That ability on that kind of person… can't be allowed. He's too distracted to notice that it's Claire who was on fire, and he's keeping himself from getting sucked into Canfield's vortex. What the hell is that thing anyway? He'll have to check that out later… it's like staring into gravity itself. "I'm sorry." is said before he draws his gun, then flies after Clint, firing and aiming at both his spinal cord and his head. He's determined to hit one or the other. Evil ability thieves cannot be allowed to live with his ability, he won't let someone cause harm with his ability, they're not all Gabriel…

There's a pause for a moment eyes looking to Peyton, even if all the information doesn't entirely sink in. Some kid is puking, and another who is having her skin and shit knit before his eyes is asking him what he did. Still, Canfield is silent as if the scene was muted for just a second. A shake of his head and fingers let go of Peyton as he steps back. "I.." you fucked up-They shouldn't have busted you out. "..I'm sorry.." that is all Cans lets out, before he is running off, away from here.

Flying people and vortexes and chunks of metal hitting him. Repeat, ow. Robin has seen stuff like this before but not so much at one time. People are running everyone, and what few volunteers that are left are taking cover.

Robin should too, but now with no one at the cargo truck, he tries to get more supplies in it, maybe in all the confusion he can get something to the damned hospital. Man on a mission.

The man's fleeing, shakes her out of her stunned moment, allowing Claire glances around for Cardinal. Spotting his crumpled form, she pushes herself to her feet quickly and hurries to his side. Doing a quick check to make sure he's still alive and checking his injuries, the ex-cheerleader finally works to hook her arms under Cardinal's armpits and starts dragging his much larger form towards Peyton and the others. "So help me Richard, I'm telling Liz you need to go on a damn diet." The words are murmured near the downed man's ear.. of course he's out cold.Probably a good thing.

When Robin opens up the back of the cargo van, he'll find it filled with nonperishables and medical supplies already. Seems Richard was delivering some goods of his own as well.

Landing on the boat, Clint sends a scowl behind him before reaching down to grab at one the crates. It is just then that he feels the bullet ripping throuhg his back. Jerking up straight the man goes rigid, slowly starting to turn— The second bullets bursts into the back of the gravokinetic's head and exits right between the eyes, embedding itself into one of the homeless thieves. Clint falls lifeless on a collection of crates, his head slapping with a spurt of blood against the side of the boat. The driver has nearly passed out.

With both of his former compatriots either slain or… gone, Lupe is finding himself in a world of panic. Letting out another blast of flame, the pyrokinetic is quickly making his escape, away from the boat graveyard.

Eventually order returns itself to the quickly setting night, Andrew, though he may be injured is able to assist Magnes in clearing the boats of would be-thieves, the two even manage to un-stick the stuck boat, at Robin's behest. Having what wasn't destroyed of the medical supplies all loaded into the truck which is still a substantial amount. As the dust settles, loose ends are slowly tied up, the wounded dealt with and the dead, buried. After what has turned into a long night for all, the Boat Graveyard is vacated leaving only two disabled vans as proof that anyone was here today.

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