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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Sooraya was harder to reach telepathically once she went into her sand form, but she was much more flexible. As millions of silicate particles, she could reach places no normal human could--and breathing toxic fumes, thankfully, was also not an issue. What she was having problems with were the terrified survivors, horrified at the sight of what they could only assume was more rubble and sand collapsing on top of them. Right now she was with a man and a woman, trapped underneath a practical tent of blasted concrete. The man's leg was broken, and neither had not taken the sight of half a girl's face reforming in front of them particularly well.
"Please," she said, "be calm. You are not hallucinating. My name is Dust, and I am here to help you."
It was at that point that she realized that, despite her promises, she was most likely not able to actually sand any of the concrete away in a way that would not leave it vulnerable to collapsing inward. That would be fine for her, but the survivors... should she call for help? It would certainly be convenient if someone telekinetic just... happened... to be in the area...
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"Dust? I'm going to need you a little more solid."
She moved close to the people and smiled, "Don't mind her, she falls to pieces at the slightest thing. I'm going to look at this rubble and figure out how best to move it okay?" She projected a small amount of calm on them so they wouldn't protest too much.
Looking back at her teammate, she waved her over. "Take shallow breaths, keep your head down, I need you to see if there's any rebar or concrete stabbing them."
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