(Untitled)

[enigmaestro]

WHO: Anyone and everyone.
WHERE: 48th Street and Astoria. Or at least, what's left of it.
WHEN: Wednesday 9AM. 2010.
WARNINGS: Gruesome detail.
SUMMARY: The Gotham Refining Chemical Group HQ has exploded, due to mysterious circumstances. Candidate Geraldo Bendis is dead, along with sixty-two other people. There are casualties littered about the

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[pacifisted]

The sheer stench coming from that area was nearly enough to burn his nose out as he came nearer, but it was also what drew him closer. He knew the stink of burning bodies and chemicals as well as any number of things, though it hadn't seemed so harsh before--but then, nothing really did, when one was locked away in the cockpit of a mobile suit, breathing recycled air. It wasn't until a person stepped back outside into the real world that everything hit all at once.

Trowa was busy rapidly digging someone out from underneath a pile of rubble with powerful sweeps of huge, thick paws, black soot staining the gold fur--singed in places, now--and two broken, bleeding, hysteric people already draped across his back.

Maybe it was a sense of duty to the City that had given him so many chances, or perhaps it was only some form of atonement for how many times he'd caused similar situations himself. It didn't really matter, and to be perfectly honest, the half-buried woman who couldn't make up her mind about whether she wanted to scream because there was a monster from prehistoric times staring her in the eye or because she couldn't feel her arm anymore probably didn't care either.

[owwmyspine]

Blue bars and graphs ticked and flowed in the corner of Jaime's eye as he flew in on the scene. The sight of people rallying to help their fellow man was great and inspiring and all, but...that was a lot of chemical damage, and not everyone down there was prepped for a little hazmat. Not like the guy in the do-it-all armor, at least. And though he was hardly as trained to tend to victims of the severity he saw, there was enough to imitate among professionals and vigilantes alike. It was definitely a learn-as-you-go situation.

The Blue Beetle slowed up over a patch of paramedics, giving a wave-salute and shouting his intentions before going ahead to get to work. Details weren't lost on him with the Scarab as the constant backup, and a chirp of alert drew Jaime's eyes to a side to find a familiar energy signature in a fairly unfamiliar shape. It wasn't a good time to chat, though, and especially...Oh, crap!

"Above you!" he shouted, making his presence known as his arms reconfigured into a merged, tubular shape. It fired a hissing, globular substance that landed a foot or two from the cat's feet and proceeded to eat away at the rubble, making a small trench for the silent, oozing chemicals that had been sliding that way. Rescue animals worked better with feet that weren't burned off, after all.

[pacifisted]

He paused in the digging at the sound of Jaime's voice just in time to take a few awkward steps back to the side and away from both the shot fired and the stuff it was busy diverting, making a surprised whurf sound. The ground underneath him was getting almost too hot despite the benefit of thick, rough pads on the bottom of his feet in that body instead of exposed human skin.

How much longer did she have, really?

Finding himself wishing for the first time that he had the middle-ground body available to him, as it was capable of some speech, and unwilling to let the two on his back hit the ground by shifting to the only form he did have that was, Trowa tried to track Jaime through smoke and watery eyes. Catching a glimpse of blue, he gave a loud rumble in the hopes of gaining his friend's attention, and turned his head to look at the bodies draped over himself.

If Jaime could just get them out of there...

[owwmyspine]

Jaime landed on the end opposite Trowa, crouching down as his arms split apart again to give him fingers. He couldn't just lift the slab of concrete pinning the woman down without risking crushing her upper body, so it was up to something a little more time-consuming. His index fingers elongated to points, sparking and carefully slicing through the slab like a surgeon's scalpel, snatching the piece closest to the woman's face and lifting it away, then the other, slipping his arm under her knees and slowly lifting them up. He winced out a Sorry! when she gave a noise - he really was, but she had to get out of there in one piece!

His other arm went under her back, and he gave Trowa a glance up as he shifted to lift her. Two wasn't much to a super-enhanced alien suit, but Jaime didn't really know how Trowa was holding up without having to ask Scarab for the nitty-gritty vitals. He'd offer his help out regardless.

The back of Jaime's suit lit up and shot out a construct platform, not unlike an over-sized saucer just beside them. He gave a jerk of the head in its direction. "Free of charge and everything," he said, rather devoid of the good humor it ought to have had. "Get on!"