(no subject)

[larkers]

WHO: Previous arrivals
WHERE: An apartment building in the underground part of New Amsterdam
WHEN: The evening of July 19
WHAT: One of the mysterious nurses had his face caught on camera; an attempt to follow his trail leads to an ugly scene.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Fire and death. This is a guided log, meaning that the end outcome has already been decided. Prompts are given for points in the events where characters can have space to react as well as interact with each other. Due to still being contained to the safehouse, characters accepted in the most recent application round are not eligible to play in this post.

The message from El shows up on the network early in the evening. A special alert goes out to everyone – even the the new arrivals – to grab their attention. In an effort to keep too many people from mucking up zeir investigation into one of the nurses from the recent drop off, El looked into the matter without informing any of Morningstar's special guests.

Now the nurse has been located, though, and it's time to move. Signs point to his trail being covered up, fast, giving Morningstar little time to prepare as they would normally. With the task passed to characters, they'll need to act as quickly as possible to find him and any information he might lead to.

> THE UNDERGROUND

Not everyone can go after the nurse – El will make it clear that any new arrivals will have to hang back in the safehouse whether they like it or not – but anyone else is free to try to track him down. The address given leads to an apartment building in underground New Amsterdam. This building is like many others: built on a block about three decades ago, with all the amenities that someone might like. It's on the nicer side of things, and the nurse clearly made above the usual paygrade to pay for a one bedroom apartment in this section of the city.

Given the circumstances, it wouldn't be surprising if many of the newcomers have had little opportunities to venture into the underground part of the city. There are entrances all over the city, transitioning seamlessly on many streets, and the underground itself is lit with UV lamps timed to dim in the evening and brighten during the day. At the moment, the light itself is low and flickering in places – while most of New Amsterdam has recovered from any minor issues caused by the giant creature's heavy footfalls through the city, some of the electrical system that keeps the underground lit continues to suffer. There are groups of crews working around the clock to mitigate the remaining damage, with some streets cordoned off as they make repairs.

> WHERE THERE'S SMOKE

As characters approach the address, an alert begins to chimes through the air, a looping audio message that fire has been reported nearby, and traffic up ahead comes to an abrupt stop. People begin to leave their vehicles or turn around in their route in order to head back to a safer area. Any characters not so easily deterred can push through and find what they've likely already suspected: the very building they were heading for is the one ablaze.

With the fire so recently reported, New Amsterdam's fire department haven't yet arrived. Some evacuation has already occurred, and there are people on the street in front of the building dressed in pajamas, and some children carry toys that they refused to leave behind in the burning building. While the underground infrastructure is well built, the ventilation system struggles with the sudden clouds of smoke billowing out and filling the street. Bad, but not as bad as it would be inside of the building.

Before long, more people begin to leave the building – but there are more that are still inside. As the approaching sirens announce the arrival of the fire department, there are three options:

◉ Numerous people are dealing with the effects of smoke inhalation. Some are in better states than others. Administer CPR, check people's breathing, or even help them get on emergency vehicles that have been sent over to bring people to the hospital.

◉ Throw caution to the wind and head straight into the burning building to try to aid in any rescue attempts. The nurse isn't among the people who have fled, so he's likely to still be in there. There are also children, some elderly, and more who need help.

◉ Should anyone brave the flames long enough to try to get to the nurse's apartment, they'll find signs that it was likely the site where the fire started. That floor will be the hottest and most damaged part of the building, and characters are unlikely to be able to get into the apartment itself.

> AFTERMATH

Once the fire department arrives, they begin working to put out the fire and clear any people still left inside. Remnants of ash and smoke will linger in this part of the underground for a while, though the robust ventilation shafts filter much of it out within the next few days.

Local news reports on the unique nature of the event, and that an investigation is underway as to what caused it. It's reported that five were found dead in the building, though no names are given. New Amsterdam's Fire Chief thanks the citizens who risked their lives to help out, and the fire department would like to ask them to consider training and joining the service officially.

Comments

stephen strange . ota

[rehandle]

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

[ well. so much for that.

the fire's raging, smoke billowing, and emergency services doing their best. Stephen may not be able to do anything about the blaze anymore but he does have more than enough experience in situations more fraught than this and a medical degree.

talking down frantic strangers, checking vitals, delivering sharp instructions to emergency staff which may or may not be getting him the sort of attention he ought to be avoiding. he's around. grab him if you need him. ]


𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐧????)

[ he was always either too far away or too busily occupied to do much about the people hurling themselves back into the flames, but that doesn't mean he didn't notice them. if anyone comes stumbling out and manages to avoid the attention of the fire department or emergency crew, they'll be met instead by one Dr. Strange. whether or not they recognise him, he's good with faces, and if they either are or have gone in with someone from his round of intake, there's a chance he's going to catch them on the way out.

possibly quite literally.

in this one instance, he's not shy with the contact. fingers go for skin. any touch lasts only a couple of seconds but ought to be enough to communicate two things: the fact that they're both glowing blue (on your side), and a deep and well-practiced calm that lands like white noise amongst the chaos of surroundings and whatever rattled emotions are fed back at him.

he hopes that's enough to get anyone's attention without attracting outside eyes. ]

Come with me.

[ out of the way. first for a health check, then for a talk. ]

General.

[selfimage]

[ it's not his scene, but Loki's there.

it's hard to hold himself back to the prize inside the burning building, because he's so used to his body being able to take damage inflicted on it. ]

This might not be a terribly good idea. I wonder if someone expected us.

[ he says evenly, glancing over his shoulder like Stephen will get an idea of what he's talking about. ]

[rehandle]

Of course they did.

[ there's no conceivable universe in which this could be a coincidence. but what were they going to do? sit at home? ]

If you go in there, I'm going to have to seriously re-assess my opinion of you.

[ dry enough, he hopes, to both make clear he knows that's not much of a threat and to express the deep disappointment he'll feel at having wilfully associated himself with somebody that stupid. ]

[selfimage]

[ a frown tugs at the edges of Loki's lips and he turns his head over his shoulder to give Stephen a Look that says I know your secret. ]

Ah, so—you have a good opinion of me?

[ never gonna live it down. ]

[rehandle]

[ ugh. ]

In that I didn't take you for an idiot? Sure.

[ if you want to consider that a victory you can? have it? can you tell how in the mood he is for these shenanigans of yours. ]

[selfimage]

[ IT'S HIS, GIVE IT TO HIM. ]

If you keep flattering me like this I'll never leave. [ all joking aside, he might be half serious. luckily he moves from one subject to the next. ] Have you seen anyone suspicious come out? Or just cautioned the idiots on their life choices?

out of the fire;

[saviorexe]

[It's the touch that snaps his attention back into reality, beyond the cage of his body and its very stifling current state -- a faint shortness of breath, a cough that racks his lungs so soon after leaving the flaming wreckage of the apartment complex. When he swallows, he swears he can taste smoke, his clothes smell of it, soot covering him in fine layers, and the sting of a burn on his forearm.

All-in-all, minor inconveniences all coalesced into experiences that Markus has never had to trudge through before, the threat of his still newly-attuned human mind trying to readjust once again tilting into the overwhelming category.

But then another layer of calm surges through him, realigning his world into the present, and Markus turns his head to catch sight of Stephen. He doesn't say anything, only frowns. But nods a half-second later, his window of consideration short, and follows. He breathes deeply, trying to fill his lungs with oxygen instead of the fresh memory of smoke, and manages to stifle back most of the coughs that follow.]

[rehandle]

[ there's all sorts of things that feed back to him through that brief connection: frantic energy, the empty fever-pitch buzzing of adrenaline, confusion, a raw edge of unbidden panic, everything you'd expect from a man who's just come stumbling out of a burning building. it's more than Stephen's used to: more pronounced, brighter somehow in its severity.

an array of sensation held together by a film of another, cloying, too much—

the touch ends, his steadiness sustained until the contact breaks and he turns away to guide his patient somewhere a little away from the immediate throng of hysteria surrounding the scene. being twenty or so more steps away doesn't make it all that much quieter, but the air is at least somewhat clearer. ]

I'm Stephen. [ names. for all he's got a theory, he's not completely certain who this is, and familiarity breeds comfort. there's not a lot of familiarity to be found in anything about this situation, not a lot of comfort either, but you've got to make the best of what you've got. ] Deep, slow breaths. That's it.

I'm going to check you over. I'll need to touch you again. Alright?

[ it's not a permission he'd usually seek, not in this context. but touch is impossible to be perfunctory about here. ]

[saviorexe]

[Twenty steps away from the heart of the noise, of concerned citizens who had just lost their homes in a blaze, of coughing and crying children. Distance that’s appreciated by Markus at this moment in time, detaching himself further from the threat of too much stimulation. Still an issue, in a human body that possesses less filters than what he’s used to. Pain lingers in his lungs and at the burn on his arm, discomfort from the scent of smoke and ash just as poignant.

But does as he’s asked, almost automatically, taking in deep breaths and trying to sound not too terribly awful when a cough threatens to interrupt it all. Several manage to.]

I’m— [Such as now. Give him a moment as he recovers from it, turning his head slightly, as if it’ll spare him some dignity. And then he tries again.] I’m Markus.

[He recognizes the name Stephen. Thinks it’s very likely the man claiming to be a sorcerer over the network; he remembers their exchange.]

I... yes. You can.

[Honestly, the empathy bond will be more detrimental for Stephen than for Markus at this point.]

[rehandle]

[ Markus. that solidifies that theory - the android. Stephen can only imagine what experiencing all this from a freshly human perspective must be like. well. doesn't need to imagine, now that he's had a glimpse.

still. it's nothing he can't handle. keeping it together is a skill he's been practising since his very first day in med school, and one that's recently been beefed up by an extensive practice of meditation. if you can keep your cool in the lair of an extradimensional destroyer of worlds, you can keep it on the outskirts of human emergency.

first things first, Stephen reaches back to unhitch a metal flask from his belt - water. ]

Here. I can top it up easy, use what you need.

[ and then he's following the path of the places where soot meet singe, to the most evident burn. there's not too great a need for skin contact, but he doesn't shy away from the need to steady Markus' arm for inspection. it can't hurt to give the man a little respite from everything going on in his own frenzied experience. the forefront of what Stephen passes over is a steady neutrality, undaunted. little hints of other things mingle in, frustration and the thudding of a half-frantic heart (adrenaline happens to us all), but the bulk of it is purposeful focus, like an active blanket.

no room for the rest of it when he's got work to do. ]

[saviorexe]

[He moves like a professional, he thinks. Makes sense, if he's a doctor. Markus resided in ancillary circles at best, having been created to be a caretaker; knows that calm and steadiness were paramount in providing any sort of care at all, whether it come from a medical professional or an android made to tend to an elderly man.

Regardless, it's appreciated in its own way, despite the somewhat over-analytical thought that has no real place in this moment in time. A flask is pressed into his hands -- even it feels warm, he thinks, the heat of this place seeming to spill onto everything -- but he doesn't protest. This body wants water, feels starved of it, and Markus unstops it and takes a drink. A long one, not quite meeting the bottom of it, but only because Stephen wants to look at the burn on his right forearm, and he'll acquiesce.

It isn't bad, but it isn't pretty either. There's redness and telltale swelling, the promise of maybe a nasty blister or two rearing up later. Stephen's touch instills a blanket of calm and neutrality, though Markus can feel the tinges of other things there, too. Frustration, something that quakes under the surface.

Markus just ekes of stinging pain, discomfort, and sensation pressing at all sides. A grain of calm in the storm of it all, something to be anchored to for the both of them, if need be. That part of him almost never changes.]

You're irritated. [-he says, almost apologetically, as he watches him work. Voice strained from tired lungs.]

general.

[deployed]

[ It's a minor miracle Bellamy didn't have the building dropped on him. Maybe if he'd been in there with someone other than Markus, it might have gone a different way. But as it stands, Bellamy's given up on his hopes of getting into the nurse's apartment and he's satisfied the building has been emptied out. He's emerged smeared with soot, coughing, and sporting a few burns. The adrenaline gives him some distance from the injuries.

In the grand scheme of things, this is hardly the worst scrape he's survived. His intention is to weave through the mess of survivors until he comes across Clarke, shepherding two weepy, bickering brothers along in hopes of finding someone better qualified to look them over. It's no mystery who Bellamy's preferred medical professional might be. But Stephen crops up first, and Bellamy cuts him off in the middle of whatever he was calling out. ]

Can you look at these two?

[ Unceremoniously, Bellamy nudges the taller one forward as he keeps a steadying hand on the smaller one's shoulder. ]

Have you seen Clarke?

[rehandle]

[ a voice, two boys, and another. Stephen looks away from his last task, on to his new one, and ducks without further remark into a half-crouch. immediately he's introducing himself, gently encouraging the boy into breathing deeply and fully, guiding his head this way and that to check for any signs of damage.

he speaks to Bellamy in between instructions, sending a quick glance up at him: a quick glance is all he needs to see that he's worse off than both boys combined. ]

Not in the last five minutes. [ he's seen her around, but they've got their work cut out for them here. he hasn't been keeping tabs. ] When you find her, make sure she checks you over. You'll need burn wraps. If she can't get anything from the emergency vehicles, go back to the safehouse.

[ it would be a waste of energy to insist Bellamy allow Stephen to be the one to check him over. there's no doubt in his mind that this friend of Clarke's shares her stubborn streak. — whether or not he ought to have casually let slip the word safehouse in the middle of all these people only occurs to him after it's over and done.

the risk seems small compared to the size of the situation - if the boys even remember enough to remark on it later, who's going to make anything of it? however unfortunately, nobody ever listens to children. mental note going forward: watch your tongue. ]

[deployed]

[ The reaction is surprising. Bellamy doesn't know what he'd expected, but he relaxes when he realizes that the barking and brusque orders aren't going to be directed at the kids. It settles some twitchy, protective urge that had made it harder for Bellamy to let go of these kids. It's misplaced, he knows. But he knows this whole fire is because of them. Because someone had figured out they were coming and thought this devastation was a fair price to pay to keep them from finding anything. ]

I'll give her the message.

[ Though Bellamy doubts that's necessary. Clarke has never needed prompting to needle at someone to let her take a look at their injuries. ]

How is he? How is everyone?

[ There isn't any way to ask about fatalities in front of two kids. Bellamy is hoping that he doesn't get a blunt answer on that. Not until they're out of earshot at least. ]

[rehandle]

[ the quick glance he casts up over the boy's shoulder makes it perfectly clear that he understands the question. but there are the kids, and the one in front of him is looking at him with a sudden silence that says he understands too, to whatever extent, listening. how is everyone? innocence wants to know.

a quick boop on the nose for the boy in front of him, ] He's fine.

[ it's overplayed, bright in the way that makes it easy to have children believe that everything will be alright in the end. go on, swap, I need to take a look at your brother now. with a little bit of fussing play, the two boys swap over, Stephen introduces himself anew, and the whole thing starts up again.

he'll wait with the real answer until both boys are seen to and gone.

it doesn't take long. mercifully, these children must have escaped the worst of it. they'll need care, but they're far from critical. if they can fight amongst themselves, they can wait a while to get to the nearest hospital for a proper check over.

he stands, pats the boy on the head, turns him around to face his brother and Bellamy. ]

They'll need to go to the hospital just in case, but so long as we get them some water and leave them with the emergency staff, they'll be fine.

out of the fire (literally)

[evite]

[ for once in daisy johnson's very argumentative life, she doesn't voice disagreement. well, mostly. she rolls her eyes a little bit, offers up what looks suspiciously like a frown, but between the weak coughing and the face smeared with soot and ash, she's not much of an imposing figure. ]

Don't tell me wha — [ cough, cough. swipe of tongue against lips, attempt at swallowing, trying again. ] — what to do.

[ wow, so eloquent. ]

[rehandle]

Okay. Try me again when you can manage a full sentence.

[ there's no severity in his voice. Dr. Strange may never have had the best bedside manner while actually working at bedsides, but out here with the hazy orange glow of a flaming building for ambient light he can at least find it in him not to be an asshole.

trusting Daisy to follow he guides her away through the flitting activity of people, past weeping families and bustling emergency staff to somewhere with at least a little room to (try and) breathe.

a flask goes unhitched from his belt, held out for her. ]

Here. Go steady with it.

[ there's every chance that even water isn't going to be the comfiest thing to get down. ]

[evite]

[ does he have to be so stupid and smug about it? like, yes, she probably does need medical attention, but — well. she wants to simultaneously wring his neck and fall down flat on the ground. what a shit group of sensations. ]

Fine.

[ she glares, because that seems like the right thing to do in the moment, and takes the flask with shaky, dirty fingers. the pads of her fingertips leave smeared black lines across the metal surface; the water inside, somehow cold to the touch, jostles and splashes across her mouth and cheeks as she tries to manage a full sip.

in between attempts at mouthing all his liquid reserves (and ew, not like that): ] Thanks.

[ and then, naturally, another splutter of sharp-sounding coughs, questionable flecks of black and grey flying out every so often. daisy, what the hell did you breathe in down there? ]

[rehandle]

[ no good. not entirely unexpected, either - smoke inhalation is a dangerous, oftentimes fatal thing. Stephen reaches out to take the flask back off her, give her one less thing to deal with as she's coughing her guts up.

she's taken in too much. soot and god knows what else is colouring the mucus, meaning its lining the nose and throat. almost certainly meaning there's plenty of it in the lungs. watching her, he waits until the worst of it's over. then: ]

You might need to get into one of these ambulances.

[evite]

No.

[ the short, snappish responses are a complete one-eighty to the carefree clapbacks daisy so often offers up to the good (?) doctor. it's too much work to manage longer responses, and when a syllable will do, she can't see much point in expending the energy to try for more.

especially not when each syllable requires the expulsion of more nasty, foul-tasting shit from her lungs. it's as if she'd gotten literal coal in her stocking and decided to eat it. ]

Can't. [ a pause, mouth screwing together tightly as she struggles to take in a deep breath. ] I don't live here.

[ it's not a logical statement, to be fair, but it's all she can manage to say before she gives back in to the hacking cough. ]

general

[warfares]

Our friend hasn't appeared, then.

[ not among the survivors, at least. which means that either he set the blaze and fled, or he was killed and the fire was used as a cover.

neither option is particularly appealing. ]

[rehandle]

Would we know if he had?

[ a nurse and male don't form the most specific description, and it's all that El had given them. still - ]

Nobody any more suspicious than anyone else that I've seen, and we've got enough eyes on the place that you'd think somebody would flag it up if he had.

[ so... no. at this point, looks like we're either chasing a corpse or a escapee. ]

[warfares]

A description wasn't provided?

[ there's a definite note of incredulity there, because El had mentioned footage ㅡ enough to get a match off of, anyway ㅡ so it's not like the expectation of one would have been unreasonable.

he swallows back the rising frustration. arms lifting to fold across his chest, the helmet of his bike still hanging idly from his fingers. ]

[rehandle]

Incredibly, no. Or if there was I haven't been privy to it.

[ can you believe? he sure as hell can. if only that were "can't" but at this point the extent to which they know next to nothing aligns with this current lack of information. ]

I hope you're not planning on going in.

[ given that he's speaking to the man who was going to go for the gun all those weeks ago, it warrants saying. ]

[warfares]

Unfortunate.

[ to put it mildly. one might even start to think it was deliberate, Morningstar keeping them in ignorance. feeding them just enough information to keep them on the hook while ultimately denying them answers.

his eyes narrow as he studies the blaze. ]

Looks like they have pointless heroics more than covered already. [ so, not venturing into the fire itself but seriously considering heading around the back, to see just how well the exits are covered. ]