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✰ COLLIGOAN POD PEOPLE ¬ ([info]colligonpcs) wrote in [info]colligo_threads,
@ 2009-08-19 04:13:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!!mods, !@event, !open, claire saunders, clark kent, damien thorn, scorpius malfoy

Mini-Event #01 - Fire
It started in the middle of the night, around two o'clock when most were already asleep. That was when the obedient servant of The Collector heard his master's call and slid out of bed and into his shoes. Where the lighter clutched in his fingers came from, he didn't know, nor did he know how he suddenly became in possession of the canister of gasoline he held in the other. Without bothering to dress properly for venturing outdoors at this hour, the nameless, faceless man who looked like an ordinary, average joe citizen who could do no harm, left his home and began walking along the empty streets of Colligo. Few were still out and those that were paid him little attention -- they were all like him, after all, there to serve a purpose, to take up space and mimic a human being The Collector had studied and achieve; a near perfect copy of the specimen to mingle with the real samplings that he'd gathered from across time and space. His mind was not entirely his own and thus, he did as he was told.

Only when he came to the front steps of Building B did the man stop, tilting his head back to stare up at it's many floors. There were people within, people who were valuable to The Collector, but his master wanted to see just how clever they were, how much their mortality meant to them when threatened. This, as crude as it was, was a good way to test that. A very good way.

Humming an off-key tune that sounded eerily similar to London Bridge is Falling Down, the man splashed the steps and sides of the building with the gasoline, moving indoors to spread the last of it on the floor of the deserted lobby. It was there that he sparked the lighter to life and there that he bent down to place it with his own hand into the pool of gasoline at his feet.

Building B burned. Would everyone get out? Would someone get hurt?

"That," The Collector mused, "is yet to be determined. And part of the fun."




1. While there are clues (for those who know how to investigate such things) that the fire was caused by arson, there is no proof that it was an NPC.

2. All characters housed in Building B will be automatically relocated to the same rooms, across town, in Building D. Any changing of rooms/roommates/etc. will need to be posted in the housing post so we will know to change them on the lists.

3. If you wish to have your character injured during the fire, that is allowed. However, we ask that you keep it both realistic, and the injuries as minor as possible. Should you like to do a severe injury/plot of some sort, please contact the mods.

4. Items will be lost in the fire. Obviously PDAs will not (or if they are, a new one will be waiting for the character when they arrive in their new room). Clothing, food, knick-knacks, toiletries, etc. are all optional as to how much was lost/damaged.

5. Again, just to reiterate. No one knows who committed the fire. The only two people who know are the Collector and the NPC. As one is not directly in the city and the other is now dead, clearly they aren't speaking.

6. For this mini-event, all threads pertaining to the fire are to take place within this post. Feel free to do sub-threads rather than one large thread, if you'd like, but please do not post anything else to [info]colligo_threads that covers the fire itself. Characters from other Buildings can also join in, if they'd like, to help those in Building B or simply observe what's going on, etc. No one is required to thread of course. If you'd rather, simply use [info]colligo_network to discuss what items were lost, the character's status, whatever. And as always, have fun!!


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[info]meritsofemotion
2009-08-19 10:00 pm UTC (link)
Spock's brow was slightly furrowed at her unusual behavior. Obviously they needed to leave. However, they were Starfleet officers. They also had to ascertain the damage, help those who might need it, and- oh. Oh. The realization dawned upon him and for a moment Spock felt downright foolish despite how illogical the feeling might be.

Of course she would react this way to fire. How could he have forgotten? He wanted to blame the smoke, causing his mind to function more slowly than what he was accustomed, but the truth was if anything was to blame it was his own selfish fear of his mother's well-being.

"Nyota." He kept his voice completely calm, turning to her and placing both hands lightly upon her shoulders to still her movements. Peering down into her face, he stated, "I assure you, we are leaving. However, you must calm yourself. Hysteria will only complicate this matter further."

Even has he was speaking, Spock's mind was whirling with the best possible way to handle this situation. His mother was a few doors down. She was presumably with George and Winona and therefore he could assume she was safe for the time being. Clearly, though, Nyota had to get out of the building. She was of no use to anyone if she was in a panic and he wasn't entirely positive - not that he blamed her - that she could get calm and stay that way.

"Come," he finally spoke again, deciding that the most logical course of action was to focus on her first, then turn his attention to the others. And the only way to help her was to get her as far away from the fire as was feasible. Although he did have every intention of stopping by his mother's apartment on the way past. He could only hope they had already evacuated or were at least awake and able to leave a second's notice, for Spock highly doubted that whatever resolve Nyota might find within herself would last for long once they were facing the actual flames and thick plumes of smoke that he assumed were already filling the corridors.

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[info]talentedtongue
2009-08-19 10:19 pm UTC (link)
Hysteria. Was she hysterical? No. No, not yet, but she certainly had the potential to be. To her, this wasn't a simple fire to be escaped and forgotten, it was the potential revisitation to a time that she'd rather forget. But she took a deep breath at his words, attempted to calm her raging thoughts and the fears that were being stirred up as she nodded. They were leaving. That was the most important thing. They were leaving.

She followed wordlessly at his command, focusing all of her attentions on keeping herself calm and breathing. Calm and breathe. Calm and breathe. As much as she could through all of the smoke. No, no, don't think about that.

At least they could take comfort in the fact that they were the only... No. No! His mother was in this building. Oh, God. She was just down the hall. And Jim's dad, too. He'd be heartbroken if anything happened to him. They had to get out. All of them.

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[info]meritsofemotion
2009-08-19 11:32 pm UTC (link)
Vulcans didn't hold hands in public. It was an act that was all but disgraceful, as far as they were concerned. They also didn't embrace publically, although if logic called for it they could with far less disapproval than mere hand-holding. Yet while Spock did his best to be the quintessential Vulcan, he not only took ahold of Nyota's hand and held tightly to it, but also drew her close to his body as he led them from the bedroom and into the living room.

So far, smoke was all that had made it into their apartment. There was as significant lack of flames yet even if they'd been present it would be hard-pressed for anyone to see them with the thick plumes of blackish gray that filled the air. On impulse, Spock led Nyota into the small kitchen area near the front door and grabbed a handtowel that had been drying over the faucet. Wetting it as best he could with a bottle of water that was already turning warm from the rising temperature of the nearby fire, he handed the towel to the woman tucked securely against his ribs.

"Place this over your mouth and nose," he stated. His own lungs were already starting to ache slightly from the inhalation of the noxious odors but he ignored the sensation. His partial Vulcan physiology would protect his vital organs for the time being. Granted he wasn't built to survive fires, necessarily, but he could go longer without water, had more stamina, and was simply physically stronger, than an average human.

And right now, he was taking any advantage he could get.

Once he was assured that Nyota had the towel, he led them to the front door. As they came upon it, he realized the reason for the significant amount of smoke. Someone, it seemed, had kicked in the door from the outside. Spock could only assume that it was done in an effort to alert them to the fire and idly wondered if that was what had ultimately woken him rather than the smell of smoke as he'd first believed.

Not that it mattered. The point was, the door was open and it was time to leave. Re-assuring Nyota with a slight squeeze of his hand, he led them both out of the apartment... and into a smoke-filled corridor with ominous red-orange flames licking their way steadily along the edges of the floors and walls.

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[info]talentedtongue
2009-08-20 01:18 am UTC (link)
Uhura took the cloth from him, keeping her grip firmly on his hand and being sure to stay as close to his side as she could manage without trampling his feet. The one thought thrumming over and over in her mind was that she wasn't going to lose him, too. She was going to manage to get him out. She wasn't a scrawny little ten year old with absolutely no upperbody strength anymore. And there wasn't any rubble to try and pick through in order to get to him.

She was keeping her mind as best she could, but the second that they stepped out into the corridor, her body tensed, her chest seized, and her grip on his hand tightened as much as human strength possibly allowed. She wasn't going to lose him. There was no way that she could allow it to happen.

"Which way?" Uhura asked, a quiet confusion in her voice. "Which way do we go?"

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[info]twelveminutes
2009-08-20 02:54 am UTC (link)
"Toward the stairs, that way," George stated firmly before Spock could answer. "There's no exit on our end of the hall unless we want to go off the balcony in the apartment." The smoke rolled off and away from him as he moved through it, closer to the duo, with one arm holding tightly to Winona's hand and another holding tightly to Amanda's. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, brow furrowed and the first traces of ash and soot already visible in his light-colored hair.

He'd been half-asleep when the smoke had begun to fill the apartment. By the time he had his clothes on and was rushing from the bedroom with a shout for Winona to follow him, their door was being kicked open and someone was shouting there was a fire. It hadn't taken long to gather Amanda as well, or to lead the two women from the apartment without so much as a glance at anything that might be left behind and lost to the blaze. His wife and a woman that was one of his dearest friends mattered far more to him than any possession ever could, after all.

And although his son's First Officer didn't show it, George wanted to think as he stepped out of the way and Amanda and Spock were reunited, that he was grateful for that fact as well.

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