InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "MEEP!"

tensor_mods (tensor_mods) wrote in tensor,
@ 2011-05-19 00:20:00

Entry tags:

ali_blaire, anna-marie_adler, callisto_leandros, domino_winter, jared_corbo, jay_guthrie, josh_foley, jubilation_lee, julian_keller, kevin_ford, kitty_pryde, open to all, petra_kristensen, piotr_rasputin, sam_guthrie

BOOM! at the Smithsonian (Saturday, May 21)
Though most of the week had been rainy, Saturday was shaping up to be a nice, sunny day. The change in weather had brought tourists and locals alike out of hiding, and the mall was buzzing with activity. The students and chaperons of the Xavier Academy were spread throughout the mall and museum buildings, having agreed upon times to meet up and check in before being sent off to see as much as possible in the time they had. By about an hour after lunchtime, a lot of them had breezed through at least one of the museums and were headed on to their scheduled tours or to their next destination.

Few, if any, really noticed the young man crossing the grass in front of the castle, wearing nothing that identified him as a member of any of the numerous school groups on the grounds that day. He was obviously disoriented, sweating profusely and staggering as he made his way out of the castle and across the mall. He stumbled once and nearly fell to his knees before he recovered, which prompted a girl nearby to stop and take notice of him. She asked him if he needed help, laid a hand on his shoulder as he turned wide, pain-filled eyes on her...and then they both disappeared in a blast of heat and light that ripped across the mall like a tiny nuclear explosion.

The people nearest the blast were incinerated almost instantly, though the heat dissipated away quickly as a concussive blast rolled across the lawn, tossing people in front of it like rag dolls thrown by a giant's hand. The west wing of the castle simply buckled at the impact, stone toppling down to crush the dozens of unsuspecting tourists in and around it before they even had time to register the explosion. The east wing buckled and groaned dangerously as well, its collapse simply slower and less complete as the shock wave continued on, buckling walls and foundations, blowing out windows and bringing down sections of roof in the buildings beyond.

But even as the initial explosion finally reached its limit, a domino effect magnified the chaos as hundreds of powered tourists, adults and children alike, reflexively powered up in response to the catastrophe, some of them losing control entirely. There were smaller explosions and tongues of flame here and there among the ruins as dust swirled in the air, and it was only a matter of moments before the first sirens began to wail in the distance. At the scene of the disaster, though, the sound of them was lost almost completely in the sound of panicked voices crying out in fear and pain.

(OOC: Please create sub-threads below for the events and immediate aftermath. Feel free to actually play out the actual explosion and how your character responds or to simply do a narrative of what happened to them and move to the aftermath if you're more comfortable with that. Remember, there's about a ten minute window of opportunity for heroism before local emergency responders and SHIELD will be on site and beginning to take over, though the cadets will definitely be co-opted into the rescue effort. The worst injured will, initially, be taken to area hospitals once rescued, but the Academy students will, once stable, be transported back to the school's med center for continuing treatment there. Parents are, of course, welcome to take their children home for treatment if they desire, but between the school and the SHIELD facility attached to it, they have access to pretty much the best healers in the country. This does, however, still mean a relatively slow recovery for anyone with severe injuries given the general caliber of even exceptionally talented healers does not begin to compare to the very very few omega healers scattered across the globe.)

ETA: GUYS, WE KINDA SUCK AND FORGOT TO TELL YOU THAT THEY GOT BUSED UP TO DC FRIDAY AFTER SCHOOL so they could have all of Saturday at the Smithsonian, and thus why they already got to see cool stuff Saturday before boom rather than spending it all on a bus. Also, for sleeping arrangements, if your roomie went you got matched up with them plus the 2 others you share a suite with (so 4 to a room, and if you have no PC/NPC roomies then NPCs will have taken the spots), other than the chaperons who got spread around in singles for supervisory purposes. Sorry!

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luckydevil
2011-05-25 01:57 am UTC (link)

Clint: “Oh God,” he said, staring around him at the rubble. They were in a circle of calm amidst chaos. He looked over at Dom, stunned, then back at the broken building, the injured. “We need to—“

Injured.

Petra. Meggan. Anna, Ali… Hank.

“Oh!” he gasped, suddenly seven years old again, thrown from safety into years of chaos, of struggle, of never feeling right with the world. He clambered up an unsteady pile of rubble, trusting their uncanny luck to hold him steady, scanning the sea of destruction.

He couldn’t think about that now. He had to find—He had to make sure—He had to--

Clint broke away from Dom and the others when he spotted Hank—oh God, Hank--standing some distance away. Clint couldn’t see him clearly through the smoke and dust and debris, couldn’t see if he was bleeding, but he was standing and, for the moment, that was all he could focus on.

The world was ending and Hank was all he could focus on.

Rubble shifted beneath his feet and the deafening silence that followed the blast was now being filled with screams and moans of pain. Clint jump, tumbled, moved effortlessly over the remains of the building and not letting himself think of what else could be trapped under there yet. He just needed—He had to make sure—

“Hank,” he gasped, jumping down from a precious bit of stone. It wobbled but didn’t fall, his powers flaring inside him. Lucky, lucky, so God-damned lucky and Hank was standing there with blood, blood on his face, but he was standing.

A speedster would have been amazed at how quickly he moved. Within moments, he was charging in, Hank coming into sharper focus. Twelve feet. Six. Flinging himself those last few feet, Clint grasped Hank’s arms in a firm grip, spinning them to slow his panicked sprint, using the momentum to keep them from toppling over. “Are you hurt?” he shouted, terrified blue eyes rapidly scanning the familiar body. “Hank, are you hurt?” He lifted his hands to touch stubbled cheeks, thumb brushing away a thin stream of blood. He was shaking so hard with worry and a sickening stab of terrified love for Hank that his teeth chattered.

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luckydevil
2011-05-25 01:58 am UTC (link)

Hank: Hank was stunned for a few moments, staring dumbly at the wreckage all around him that had once been the museum. Even after the screams and panicked bursts of activity -- his quick, witty, brilliant brain was still struggling to process what had just happened to everything around him.

And then -- oh, it was Clint, shouting at him, touching him, looking completely terrified, that kicked Hank's gears back into motion.

"I'm fine!" he shouted back, a little too loud, his ears still ringing. But when he licked his dry lips, he tasted blood, and immediately he could feel the sharp stinging on his face. There must have been glass nearby; his face was a little cut up, with a bigger slice through his right eyebrow, but nothing that some band-aids and perhaps a few stitches wouldn't fix.

He pushed Clint back a little, holding him at arm's length so he could quickly look over his whole body. Clint seemed dirty, dusty, but there were no injuries Hank could see. "You're not hurt?" he asked, mind racing with thoughts of head injuries, internal bleeding, and all the other things his eyes weren't able to see.

Clint: “You’re bleeding,” he said, thumb stroking just under a cut. It didn’t look too bad, but there could be other injuries. The kinds he wouldn’t be able to see until Hank was collapsing, dead, leaving him, abandoning him.

God.

Clint squeezed his eyes shut, forcing away the rising tide of debilitating terror. He couldn’t function with the thought of Hank leaving him buzzing around his head, so he pushed it away, forcing himself not to think about it.

“You’re okay,” Clint said firmly, gripping Hank’s face between his hands. As if he could make it be true by wanting it.

Hank: Hank's blood was on Clint's hands, but it was fine, as long as it wasn't Clint's. He managed a grim smile and said, "So are you. My lucky, lucky Clinton."

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luckydevil
2011-05-25 01:58 am UTC (link)

Clint: “My name isn’t short for anything,” Clint said stupidly before leaning in and capturing Hank’s mouth in a long, heady, breathless kiss.

The world didn’t stop. Violins didn’t start playing. There were no fireworks, though there was plenty of fire. But even still, the kiss was like something outside of time and place. He felt it in his bones, deeper, emotion spiraling through him and carrying him along like a riptide. He didn’t bother fighting it, digging his fingers in dark hair and holding on for dear life as he fed off of Hank’s mouth, tasting blood and ash and dust, experiencing a strange, alien warmth in his heart.

If Clint were a poet, he may have called it homecoming. Instead, he simply experienced one heady moment where he felt safe in someone’s arms.

He broke the kiss first. “Dom and I deflected most of the blast,” Clint said, breathless. “Something about us being together created a…a… Infinite Improbability Drive. We should team up to help people.” Now that he knew Hank was safe, Clint could think again.

Hank: Hank nodded numbly, though he didn't let go of Clint. His emotions felt raw, almost painful, certainly confused, and all he wanted to do was pull Clint out of there and keep him someplace safe.

Stupid, stupid Hank. No one was safer than Clint.

"Right, yes." He reached up to wipe away a stray spot of blood from Clint's mouth. "We need to evacuate everyone."

Clint: “Yes,” he agreed, catching Hank’s hand and gripping it tight. “We need to save people. With some brains and a lot of luck—“

Clint expelled a shaky breath and looked around him, catching sight of Dom amidst the chaos. “This way,” he said, tugging Hank with him. “And don’t leave me.”

Hank: "I won't," he promised, squeezing Clint's hand, grateful to be led. Grateful to be alive, grateful that the destruction wasn't worse, grateful for Clint. Just grateful.

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