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For the past few days, even weeks, Harlem had been a hot spot in New York. There was violence here, explosions, race wars, and brutality like none other. The upper streets and sidewalks were still being hosed down due to the battle just two days prior. A display rests besides a store front, complete with flowers and the smiling picture of a black man with the words under it reading: Marcus Jones. R.I.P. Rumor has it, Jonese was the man who had been found crucified on that very spot.
Regardless of how the world was, the weather has finally let up, leaving behind thin layers of white powder and bringing 'peace' with it. Food was everywhere, as well as hot drinks, all thanks to both Wilson and Vanessa Fisk. Children were running around, playing games and visiting with the main man himself: Santa Claus. Local vendors were passing their wares, and other figures were working behind folding tables, collecting donations for three locations in particular:Harlem, Hell's Kitchen, and the Bronx.
There was joy here, organic and unforced. Songs were being sung, carols and biblical hymns, and people were just being happy and remembering what the season was, and what holiday was creeping up on the inhabitants of New York City. This was 'peace'. This was understanding for a higher purpose. This was a lesson to those who had yet to grow-up. Hate was not needed, and here, at this moment in time, it didn't exist.
*
Medusa arrives from Westchester County.
*
Medusa has arrived.
*
Sinjin planned to be here from the time he found out about it. Of course he was going to show up, he wouldn't say no to Wilson Fisk. On the other hand, since he'd been doing his recent investigations, his relationship with Fisk — at least from his end — had tarnished. Pity. He wasn't used to have friends.
Tucked into a long, leather coat, hands deep in his pockets, he weaves through the crowd on his way to intercept Fisk and Vanessa. Even as he suspects Fisk, he envies them. He envies their partnership and their affection. And, yes, he envies their ability to change people's lives for the better. He just wishes he believed that was all Fisk was doing.
*
Among the many who have gathered here, there is Matt Murdock, the attorney who had represented the defense of infamous mob boss, Paul Cavassini. Following Cavassini's courtroom assassination, work has been understandably slow. He's also gotten all manner of heat for having chosen to represent a known member of the Italian Mafia; from friends, from the press. Business is suffering.
Still, he cares deeply for his city; the decision to represent Cavassini wasn't made for money, but for a more devious purpose. Given that it backfired in a big way? Appearing at a fundraiser isn't that half bad of an idea.
He's also worried; worried about the violence, and worried about what angry people might do to disrupt a peace rally.
And so, he walks among the crowd, dressed warmly for the weather, with a cup of hot cider in his hand and a walking cane in the other, which the blind lawyer uses to safely navigate amongst so many people.
*
Hate may have no place here, but a certain level of apprehension sure does. As Jean-Paul Beaubier slowly paces his way through the rally with a knit cap pulled down over his ears and his hands buried deep in the pockets of his black peacoat, he looks like a man who is experiencing some… regret.
Laughing children. Santa Claus. Singing. Gods above, what fresh hell had he subjected himself to?
With a longsuffering sigh, Jean-Paul pushes on.
*
This is Kurt's first holiday season in the States and even though he's not really celebrating with anyone, it's a joyous season! He can't help but soak in the cheer that this season brings despite all of the awful things going on. It's a hope that maybe in this Season of Peace and Hope, that there will be a sense of brotherhood…a sense of unity, even if it's just for a month or so. It would certainly be a start.
There are some at the tables for Hell's Kitchen whom he knows and greets, his hands tucked into the pockets of his warm coat and a bright scarf wrapped about his neck. However, the German is quite obvious still as he walks along, his three-toed feet bare and seemingly unbothered by the snow. Upon catching sight of the blind lawyer, his face lights up and he calls, "Herr Murdock!" He gives a wave but then mentally scolds himself; instead, he tries to navigate through the crowd towards the one in the crowd he knows.
*
She knows that there's no way to hide that she's different, but if there's anyplace where she might be allowed to blend in despite being different, it's Harlem. Or so she hopes. Clad in a fur coat, her head is bowed as she walks along, her hair doing its best to take up a minimum amount of space. The display of holiday cheer is at least interesting to watch out of the corners of her eyes.
*
Wilson Fisk lingers at the edge of the peace rally. With a single arm curled around his wife, he has an ease with which he lingers next to her. He slides a stitch closer to the woman. "Vanessa, Darling," he murmurs quietly, "would you be a dear and check on the coffee? I believe my personal assistant has taken the day off."
A flirtatious smile tugs at Vanessa's features, "Wilson," she adjusts the lapel of his well-fitted suit, "you would be useless if it weren't for the women in your life." But even as she says the words, her weight shifts and she trails off to check on the refreshments for those gathered.
"Truly," Fisk's eyes glimmer and follow his wife as she walks away. His throat clears, and his hands tuck into the pockets of his jacket.
"That woman is wonderful," he murmurs to one of the rally attendees before his weight shifts.
A slow rumble in the distance, however, calls his attention. He pivots on his heel and squints as he stares back towards Manhattan. His lips purse.
The ground underneath the peace rally exhibits that same rumble, and the vibrations of the earth oscillate everything atop it.
*
In the midst of the rally, a figure stands to the sidelines, taking a day off for herself after so much blood and pain these last few days. Samantha had left the clinic early today, coming out in support of the peace rally and all it stood for. With the violence these days, it was more important then ever that someone was trying to remind people that all the aggression wasn't ment to be the 'norm'. The blonde woman hugs her beat-up leather jacket tighter around her shoulders, the man-sized garment starting to wear thin after all these years, but she was stubborn about it. Odds are she'd keep it till either it or she broke one day.
Making her way down the line, she lightly gathers a little food from the line, smiling and chatting with residents here and there. This was…nice, and nice had been in short supply.
*
Here, baby. There, mama. Everywhere, daddy-daddy-Hair! Another being with a massive amount moves around, chatting up people here and there. Lynette is practically beaming as she makes her rounds, ensuring that everyone is having the best time they can. The girl with flooftastic curls sometimes runs around with the children before turning off and bringing food and drinks to those stuck in their chairs. Hugs are shared, along with kisses to cheeks. She was never one to have her own family, but this neighborhood had accepted her as one of their own; and she'd never forget that.
A glance upward, she grins at those she knows, giving a thankful nod toward Wilson and Vanessa, before skipping off toward JP and hooking around his arm. "Aww, why de long face, chere? Y'too pretty t'be lookin' like dat." Then Sinjin gets a wide-swing of a wave before the girl cups her mouth and calls his way. "Johnny! Where y'been all dis time, boy? Been missin' y'."
All the giggles and conversation pauses after that first shake. Then another, and another ripples through the streets causing everyone to take more notice. The songs have stopped as people stand at attention and wait. "Don'…" Lynette whispers softly, her grip on JP becoming slack. "Don'…not now. Not t'day…"
*
Sinjin recognizes Lynette and waves at her, gives a smile to Jean-Paul as he approaches Fisk. Now, that's going to be an interesting collision, when it comes.
"Mr. Fisk," he says warmly. Still warmly. The man is so strangely likeable. "Glad to see you. It's a good…" he begins turning to look over the crowd. And then things are…not right. There's no other way to explain it.
Sinjin's lighter is warm in his palm.
"No, it's not good," he murmurs.
*
Hearing his name called out in German fashion, Murdock stops his progress through the crowd, and turns toward the voice. He angles his head just slightly, then can't help but allow a smirk to show on his face. He can't admit it, not really, but he's already recognized not only the voice, but the smell too. The sulfur might not be noticeable to others, but to Matt's nose… yeah.
It isn't until Kurt is closer that he feigns discovery, and steps forward with cane under arm to offer a hand toward the blue mutant, his aim just slightly off by design. "Mister Wagner?" he asks, genuinely surprised to find the mutant out here around so many people, when he'd last found the fellow hiding in a church.
*
Jean-Paul does not look nearly pleased enough, for a man who has just had a lady as lovely as Lynette claim his arm. He does offer her a smile, though his eyes remain lazily half-lidded in the process, despite the way she came up on him by surprise.
"You are too kind. It is just so… so…" Jean-Paul is clearly looking for the right word to express his displeasure, and he finally finds it: "Festive." He sighs and shakes his head. "I have never been good at festive."
He casts a curious look towards 'Johnny' and develops a slow, almost feline smile when he sees Sinjin. At least, right up until he feels the rumbling, and he just looks down at his feet before eyeing Lynette. Hmmm. He curls an anticipatory arm around the young woman's waist, and waits.
*
"Hallo! It is good to see you, Herr Murdock! I have not seen you much at the Church…but I am sure you are very busy, ja?" Kurt takes the offered hand and gives it a friendly shake before he offers an arm, "Can I help you to one of the food tables, maybe?" Or even through the crowd?
The shiver of the ground causes him to pause and frown, "This is strange. Do they have earthquakes in New York?" He's heard of them even if he hasn't experienced them himself. Yellow eyes glance about to take note of where a bunch of the kids are so he can try to get them out of harm's way if need be. Well, the kids and the blind man.
*
Medusa pauses in her walk understandably, as the ground rumbles beneath her feet. Her mouth purses as she bends her legs to lower her center of balance and looks around warily. No, it is not normal to have earquakes in New York. She remains silent, patient. Whatever this is, it will either pass, or become apparent.
*
"I…" Wilson starts as his eyes track the area. "I need to find my wife," he replies to John. "I must find my wife," he repeats evenly. "Vanessa went to check on the coffee," he calls back towards Lynette. "Colt, Dormer — go get Vanessa to safety. Take refuge — " his eyes scan the area, and it becomes increasingly obvious that they are all sitting ducks. His head shakes wordlessly. "This cannot — " he begins and stops.
The rumble grows. A slow, ominous sound draws near. The earth complains, and then, out of nowhere, a small crack along the earth's surface separates and spreads, quickly moving earth, and physically dividing the group.
Some protestors struggle to maintain their balance in the wake of the quake, and the division of the earth. Two women lose their footing and fall into the crack that has formed — it's depth seemingly ineffable as the loud bloodcurdling screams echo from the ground below.
Two more seem to be going under, slipping as they attempt to grasp onto the earth's edge and whatever the dirt will allow them to cling to.
*
There's maintaining a secret identity…then there's the freaking earth opening up under you and swallowing people. Holy crap. The shaking ground was enough for Sammy's plate to clatter to the ground as she looked around in confusion. Earth quakes? Usually someone would try and give…some kind of warning. Those cracks splitting open to swallow people is as much a sign as anyone can take that things were going horrendously wrong, but the source? How to fix it? The blonde has no idea.
Right, people slipping; that's something she can fix! Diving forward the woman reaches out, snatching for those scrambling arms and trying to lift them clear of the plummeting demise. With her strength? They might as well be made of styrofoam…but where the hell can she put them down? "RUN!" she calls, then her eyes go wide with the realisation: there were a lot of children out here. No time for a mask, she's got to move!
*
Lynette feels the grip around her waist, and after glancing Jean-Paul's way, her lips part to comment on something. There is no time for words. "Merde!" The girl exclaims, pulling away from the French-Canadian and moving out toward the street that was beginning to rip right down the middle and swallow the people whole. It was becoming official now that Harlem was not a safe place to be, ever. "Get de kids outta here!" She barks at those still standing, even as shrill voices scream out and tiny feet start moving.
Lynette is looking toward the adults that still have good enough footing to beat it, hopefully with a bundle of children each. "MOVE! MOVE!" The Creole girl orders once more, her body now at the edge of the chasm and her hand reaching down and into the darkness. Find them, focus. Find the ones that had fallen. Hold them! Straining to pull at the weight of a person in the void, the girl grits her teeth and furrows her brows. Her eyes shift, becoming more seperntine as a faint pattern of crimson diamonds form along the back, and side of her neck, rippling up and onto her jaw's join.
*
Sinjin flicks his lighter and his hands fill with fire. It rolls down like water, pours into the gaps in the earth at an incredible rate, billowing and expanding without burning. As it rises, it lifts whatever it comes upon, provides footing for those trying to climb out. Wherever he can, Sinjin directs the fire to fill in under the feet of the fleeing, catches those who stumble and fall. It's hard, he's not used to using it like this, and he's defenseless right now. It takes all his focus to make sure no one gets burned.
*
With a smile, Matt nods his head in Kurt's direction. "Well, we were sort of lying low during that mess throughout October," he admits, while taking Kurt's arm for guidance. "That would be helpful, thanks."
He begins following Kurt, when the rumbling of the ground becomes a bit more pronounced. The first one had gone largely unnoticed; Matt can feel the ground tremble with every passing car, even every footstep. It's become something like ambient noise to him when he isn't really focusing on it. A deeply worried look comes across his face a few moments before the crack forms, and when it comes, when the screams start and fade, he turns quickly toward Kurt.
"Go and save them," he says with urgency. "Don't worry!"
Those words seem loaded. Don't worry about himself? Don't worry about what people might think? Either way, Matt isn't going to stand here and do nothing. He turns away from Kurt, drops the cane, and crouches down to the ground.
He waits for a precious few seconds, letting the cacophony grow. Then, he reaches beneath his jacket and shirt, and pulls something red - a mask, up and over his face, knocking his glasses off in the process. Hopefully nobody notices this, or the fact that he's withdrawn a billy club from within his coat. He can't act just yet; with all of the noise, it's difficult to focus his enhanced senses to pick out just what he's looking for, above the growing crack in the earth.
*
Jean-Paul actually looks relieved when Lynette pulls away from him. It means he doesn't need to rescue her. Sadly, it does mean that he is free to rescue the next worst thing: strangers.
There one moment and gone the next, a streak of blue-white light races from Lynette's side and over the edge of the chasm as Jean-Paul goes for one of the locals who is shrieking bloody murder during free-fall. He throws both arms around her and, at a much saner speed, comes rising back up into full view.
"If you do not stop screaming in my ear, I have half a mind to let you go early," Jean-Paul says in French-accented english, but even as he says it, he carries the woman to solid ground and sets her onto her feet with surprising care. "Go on, then. Shoo."
*
Kurt doesn't even question when Murdock tells him to go and help. He gives the blind man's arm a squeeze of appreciation before he looks to the chasm and just 'Bamfs' away with the sound of displaced air and a cloud of brimstone. He reappears within the chasm, falling, but it allows himself to try and see those who were swallowed. He's able to catch sight of one and, bamfing once more, he disappears and reappears just above the other to grab them and bamf away, back to solid ground. The two reappear, rolling a bit due to the momentum, but they're safe. For now. "Are you ok?" is asked before he quickly gets to his feet to prepare to help others. Did the second one get rescued or does he have to go back in?
*
At the sight of the street splitting, Medusa backs up a few steps, and quickly. But as people start to disappear into the fissure, she acts without sparing a thought about it. There's a shake of her head, and she jogs toward the crack. Her hair, now a writhing aura around her, separates itself into eight seperate rope-like locks, and and extend swiftly into the gap. The space between the Inhuman princess' brows cinches a little as she focuses on lifting the people she's managed to snag before they fell to their oblivion.
*
Overhead, the sound of something speeding and sonic BOOMS.
On the ground, the rumbling doesn't stop, nor does the separation of the earth. As bodies move from the way — parting like the Red Sea — it seems to deepen… until it bubbles again. Like someone lifting a sheet into place on a bed, the ground ripples — lifting and falling once again into place, causing many to topple and lose their balance amid the chaos that reigns.
And then, just as the earth seems to fall back into place, an assailant, clothed simply in back, sends black energy to the world below, like a kind of shadow. Yet the force of the black shadow that emits from the assailant's wrists causes many to fall backwards.
A low rumble from the earth emits again, followed by words amid the low noise, "…there will be no peace…"
Wilson Fisk, meanwhile, is already beckoning people onto a nearby schools, "We need to get these people out of here — " he directs one of his bodyguards, only to be interrupted by a sharp blast of shadow-energy that drops Fisk to the ground.
*
ROLL: Samantha +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 26
*
Samantha isn't done, not yet. As far as her secret goes? Well, in for a penny…She takes flight, zipping through the air with a burst of speed and carrying another bystander she'd plucked from a fall to their demise in her arms. Landing at a skid that kicks up a little gravel and probably rips the hell out of her shoes she sets the victim down at the entry to the school in time for her to spot the event's 'benefactor' dropped by that shadow blast. Well crap.
Dropping in front of the fallen man she turns her gaze to the bodyguards. "Get him out of here!" she barks, hoping that they're startled enough to take direction from random flying women before she reaches for a nearby piece of rubble from the earlier quake, hurling it towards the shadowy figure…but the damn thing is fast, managing to take flight and avoid the impact.
*
ROLL: Lynette +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 60
*
Ever so slowly, and older man rises from the tear in the street. Clearly shaken, he rests on his feet after a moment, as Lynette's hand reaches toward him, fingers flexing before her 'grip' fades. "Go." She urges him gently, peering at him with what can only be assume are considerate slitted pupils. Pressing up to stand, the bubbling wave of the world below her causes the girl to trip and wet gravel to dig into her flesh. Hissing from the scratches, she stands up once more and takes in a quick glance of the havoc around her. There were others here with powers, thankfully, and one that smells heavily of…sulfur and brimstone?
Tightening her lips, the girl takes great care to keep her tongue in her skull. Soon enough, there is a main target making himself known. The wave that slams into Fisk has the girl's attention, as she calls out toward him. The blonde woman is there, and along with her orders comes Lynette's own, "N'find V'nessa! Once dat's done, y'help de rest a'dese people!" If they listen, it's up to them.
Jogging up and down the break, she scoops up a child and leads the other by the hand, rushing them toward the waiting arms of pedestrians that were aiding their neighbors. Then, something occurs to her; fight fire with fire, or in this case, shadow with shadow. She didn't know the heroes around her, but perhaps they, too, would come up with plans of their own. Heading back into the frey, the snake-eyed mambo lifts up her hands and sets to concentrating once more. A jet like substance creeps around her form, wriggling and shifting as if it were alive. A darkness swells between the pair, as one set of shadows starts to hammer against the other. Soon, they bleed against one another, spreading, flowering, forcing the attacker's abilities to weave around in their attempts to hit more bystanders.
*
ROLL: Daredevil +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 31
*
There's no way Sinjin can keep up with it all and then the ground surges again, dropping him to his knees. There's nothing he can do but lift the fire he controls in a last surge to toss people free of the growing gaps and then it snaps back to him, coiling around him. Instinctively, he uses the cool, solid mass of it to pull himself back up to standing.
He can feel more than see the shadows being manipulated by the shadowy man — he remembers the dark that crept in on him when the nightmares caught him and he shudders, following that sense of darkness up to see the man floating in the air. Before he can think of an assault, though, he sees Wilson go down and darts that way over the treacherous ground. That has to be his priority — making sure that Fisk and the others get free of the scene. There's no fight to be had as long as bystanders are at risk.
*
Murdock remains crouched upon the ground when the ripple strikes. He shifts his weight to and fro, one of the few capable of keeping balance in such a precarious position, given his training under Stick. Then, he throws caution to the wind and rips his clothes from his body, revealing the blood red costume beneath. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen is here.
Without a word, he rises to his feet and turns to help someone up who has collapsed. That's when the shadow-energy strikes him, blowing the wind right out of his chest. He gasps and staggers backward, only to grab hold of a stone wall to keep from falling. Even though everything is going to hell in a handbasket? He tries to focus on that voice; to locate where it's coming from amidst all of the chaos, and more importantly, to track its movements, but with the entrance of Lynette's magic, it proves difficult. He does dart his head toward that bus, and specifically, those who are being ushered onto it.
With a grimace, he makes his way in pursuit of those people, grabbing one straggler by the arm as he passes. "Come on, quickly!"
*
ROLL: Johnny +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 95
*
With all the chaos on the ground, one might be forgiven for missing the sound of a sonic boom. Not Jean-Paul. His head whips up as soon as he hears it and then, just as suddenly, he's… gone. Just gone.
As the figure in black is caught up in their struggle against Lynette, there is a flash of movement behind them. Jean-Paul seems to just sort snap into place behind them and then, without so much as a word or a quip to announce his presence, he reaches around with both of his hands to cover their eyes. From his palms, there is a brilliant flash of light, directly into the assailant's eyes.
And as the black-clad big bad begins to drop out of the sky like a rock, Jean-Paul does not deign to catch him.
*
The shadow energy does indeed knock Kurt down, but, being the acrobat that he is, he loses his balance but twists and rolls to regain it once more, albeit on all-fours. His eyes widen at the appearance of the cause of this, and his words bring a scowl even as he gets to a more comfortable crouching position, "There will be peace as long as people work for it!" is called back in defiance. But he isn't going to move in to fight. He's with the others in making sure that bystanders are safe. So there is more of that 'Bamf' sound and more clouds of dark Brimstone as he teleports people out of the way and, he hopes, to safety.
*
ROLL: Medusa +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 45
*
Medusa turns, eyes darting until she finds the source of the voice. Having set down her own civilians, her hair rears back as if to strike out - but then the dark figure collapses. So instead, she sends it out as an enormous fanned out plane. Should he land in it, it will easily absorb the shock of his fall and keep him from becoming a smear on the sidewalk.
*
The shadow assailant now on the ground, lifts his hands and pushes that same shadow energy from his free hand. It sweeps across the ground, and forces people away from him and his power. Evidently, while he can be knocked from the ground, something prods him forward; something plods him forward.
The bus itself begins to vibrate, another oscillation buried deep within. It shifts and shudders beneath the influence of someone who sees fit to command the earth in and around it. "…peace is a dream… the reality is war… I will have war…" the voice echoes through the ground once more.
Again the world feels off kilter. The ground shakes with rocks living and falling, growing and collapsing like someone arbitrarily hitting broken keys on a piano.
Fisk yells through the din, "Get the bus moving — get those people to safety! Do what — " but once more he is hit with a bolt of shadow energy.
"Wilson Fisk," the shadow man speaks, "your police force will never become a reality."
*
ROLL: Samantha +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 9
*
ROLL: Sinjin +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 23
*
Well…at least there's not a shortage of supers and mutants around to attack this thing…but it doesn't seem to want to go down. Rushing forwards, Samantha bolts through the air, tring to slam her fist into the shadowed assailent, but it's a sloppy strike and he easily sidesteps it to leave Sammy swinging at nothing but air.
*
ROLL: Lynette +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 77
*
The 'push' continues between the pair, causing the pair to sink deeper into a swell of darkness. The bright 'flash' sparks briefly, before being swallowed away by the pair that seem to control the darkness as if it were a living force. The world shudders and shakes, trembling helplessly under the aggressor's control; the mambo has had enough.
There are such things as boiling points, especially for those on the short end of social justice. The scarlet hue of the girl's scales becomes all the more apparent now, if they could be seen, and with a dig of her hand, a flick of her wrist, a blade is drawn from the girl's back pocket and sets itself steady within its handle. Without delay, or hesitation, she pieces it through her palm, sinking it all the way through and giving it a defiant 'twist' to dig at nerves, muscles, bones and tendons. One down, another to go.
Ripping the blade out, she flips it and gives her other palm the same, unforgiving, treatment. "Get dem out, now!" Lynette calls out from the swirling blackness, her voice reaching out to anyone that can, or wishes to hear her. "Clear de streets! N'get Fisk outta here!"
*
ROLL: Kingpin +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 40
*
This time, Sinjin is nearly at Fisk's side, stumbling through the shadows and the stones, keeping his balance — barely — on the trembling earth. At least he avoids the worst of the flying stones — he doesn't need another scar. When he reaches Fisk, he tries to keep the mans head from striking the ground, dropping to his knees to try to assist him. "Wilson, let me get you out of here."
Sinjin looks up and tries throwing a fireball at the shadowy man in hopes of stopping the ongoing assault. Between the shaking of the earth and the shadow's speed, the fireball streaks right past the figure and Sinjin brings it back to him with a thought, a white sphere circling and awaiting another attempt.
*
With the bus's vibration, Daredevil skids to a halt. "Wait," he says to the man at his side, the bystander. "Something is wrong. Get away from it, just run that way!" He points away from the mess, before running for the bus, deftly dodging people he nearly collides with. He reaches a gloved hand for the vehicle, trying to determine what he can feel from its vibrations while headed for the front door.
*
While Sinjin attempts to tend to Fisk, there is a short gust of wind and Jean-Paul seems to flicker into place, putting himself between the two men and the shadow-spewing aggressor. For a man as lean and elfin-looking as Beaubier, this might seem like a rash decision.
Right up until his body begins to give off that same blue-white light he shone into the villain's eyes before, once again directed in the black figure's direction. Not as an attack. As a shield, to keep the dark tendrils at bay while Sinjin and Fisk collect themselves.
"I am growing impatient, m'sieur," Jean-Paul calls towards the villain, his tone of voice bored. "Shall I count to three?"
*
After getting some bystanders to safety, Kurt catches Lynette's shout and looks about for the man he's seen in the papers and on the news so often. There's a 'Bamf' over to where he and Sinjin are, and he nods to the fire-ball throwing one and the glowing speedster, "I can take him to safety." A three-fingered, blue hand is held out, "Herr Fisk, I can get you to safety. Will you let me take you?"
*
ROLL: Medusa +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 43
*
Another lash out of her hair, but Medusa's efforts are fruitless. With a tightened mouth, she focuses on getting others out of the way, and otherwise keeps out f the way.
*
The pain of Lynette's efforts has the shadow assailant screaming in agony. The shout is loud, echoey, desperate. The assailant collapses to his knees as he shrieks louder and louder still. Writhing on the ground, shadow man is only given more reason to be pained as the light descends on him. The pain of light seems to sear him, burning every piece of his body. And, in short order, the blackness fades, leaving a gangly, curly haired kid unconscious in the assailant's place.
Fisk shoots Sinjin a small nod and Kurt a grateful nod. "Of course, please," he issues to Kurt. "But Vanessa — these people — " mind, Wilson is one of many bystanders in the area.
The bus rumbles again, and someone inside murmurs an order to the earth itself, "Peace will die."
*
ROLL: Samantha +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 79
*
These others seem to have things well in hand. Medusa snags the lining of her coat, tugging it together tightly before turning and swiftly making her way for the scene.
*
Medusa has left.
*
If nothing else, today served as a reminder that she's extremely green at this vigilante hero thing. Odds are she'll go home or back to the clinic, but first thing's first. It doesn't take much to hear what people had been yelling about, even if she'd failed at stopping the threat, she'd manage to rescue a few people…maybe she can top that off. Sweeping her gaze through the crowd those blue eyes fall on a particular injured figure. There we go!
Zipping down from above Sammy lets her hair fall over her face, for all the screen that might offer and touches down beside none other then Vanessa Fisk. The woman was trapped, her arm pinned under rubble dislodged from the earlier 'quake'. Lifting the debris free she offers her best reassuring smile and moves to look at the arm. "Relax, I'm a nurse," she offers, reaching to check the arm for breaks. "You're safe now…" Kneeling beside the woman to offer what treatment she can, Sammy looks Lynette's way. The snake-skinned woman looked like she was mostly in charge. Close enough anyway. "She's over here!"
*
ROLL: Daredevil +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 76
*
Lynette bares her teeth, and a growl rumbles from her throat. Once half of the darkness dies, her own shadows slip away, showing the frizzy haired mambo and all of her odd 'glory'. Pulling the knife away, she closes it and slips it into her pocket. Angry as she was, she rushes over to the kid's side. Removing her jacket, she starts wrapping her sleeves around the boy's hands, applying pressure with her knees, but keeping him well under keeps.
A yell grabs her attention, as she darts her eyes toward more of the action happening around the bus. With a glare, she motions toward it with an upnod and bounce of her curls. "De bus!" She warns the others still active and moving about. "N's'mbody get on de horn n'get de meds down here!"
*
Sinjin stands up to look for Vanessa, jumping up on a broken outcropping to see. He sees her with Sammy. "She's over there," he says, coming back to Fisk's side. "Let this fellow help you out." Hopefully the teleporting blue imp — Sinjin is wildly jealous of that power — can help Fisk get to safety and then come back for Vanessa.
"Thanks," he says to Jean-Paul. "Let's go see to that bus." Whatever's going on there looks ominious.
*
There isn't a moment's hesitation. As soon as Daredevil hears that voice, he leaps into the bus, spinning in the air. His arm is swinging even as his ass bumps into the driver's seat. The billy club is released with a well-trained throw, whizzing down the aisle between chairs with hairpin accuracy and alarming speed. Others waiting for the bus to depart shriek with surprise!
Daredevil's superhuman ears do not fail him this time. The voice is clear in his mind, and it belongs to a dark haired teen crouching down, about twelve seats back. Fortunately, Daredevil has practiced his throws; he knows just how hard to throw, avoiding a killing stroke, but the billy club finds its mark and whacks the teen square in the temple with brutal force.
*
As Lynette handles the… child?… that had been terrorizing Fisk, Jean-Paul just gives Sinjin an airy wave of his hand, the light around his body fading away. "The bus is handled," he says dismissively, sounding quite certain of that. Perhaps he went and checked.
Instad, Jean-Paul turns to peer between Fisk, Sinjin, and — with momentary surprise on his face — Kurt, his head cocking slightly to one side. Hm. "I suppose the thing to do is contact the nearest hospital," he murmurs, sounding almost reluctant. What a bother. Someone else do it. He's too famous to do it.
*
Teleporting Fisk to safety is easy but with all this teleporting, he's getting a little tired. Kurt has to take a moment to catch his breath as he looks to Fisk, "You are ok?" He has to go back out there. While he would be fine with punching some, he knows he can get others to safety and that's going to be his focus. "I think that your Vanessa is also safe," he offers, glancing over as someone calls 'She's over here!'. A hand reaches out to pat the large man's arm before he teleports away to make sure others are out of the way of danger still.
*
"I am," Wilson replies to Kurt with a very gentle smile, "Thank you," and then Vanessa enters his gaze. "Thank you all," because his precious wife remains safe. His eyes scan the remnants of the site and he frowns. "We need this police force more than ever." He emits a soft sigh.
And finally, out of the woodwork, Fisk's assistant comes up beside him. "Get the mayor on the phone. We need to apply pressure. The situation in New York is quickly turning into a state of emergency."
*
People are safe, Fisk is safe, threats are down…time to get scarce. After Vanessa is handed over to medics and people with the gear to treat her? Samantha is rather quick to turn away and leap into the air, streaking away from the site of the ill-fated rally. Later she'll have to work out if she was recognized, if returning to her clinic in Harlem is the right way to go about things, but for now? She needs a break. Nothing like a long flight to think things over with.
*
Lynette stares down at the kid and then around at the destruction of a town, and people, she considered her own. Glaring, she feels that rage flow through her, only to crash against the downside of being a human pin-cushion. Swaying in place, she rests her hand on her head and gives it a shake. Paramedics were here now, their sirens blaring as they move out to help those who need it. She, too, makes her path away from there. Woggling down an alley, she soon gets her feet and keeps moving. Always moving.