"The catastrophic flood devastating Louisiana is now the worst natural disaster to strike the United States since Hurricane Harvey which hit the area just last year," the on screen newscaster seemed sympathetic, but unimpressed despite the damage that this round of flooding had produced. It seemed that natural disasters were getting worse every year.

Apparently disaster was the norm now, especially for this particular community which seemed to flood repeatedly. The talk turned political, FEMA reimbursements and flood planes and he-said, she-said overlaid a backdrop of panning footage of homes with water up to the eaves. People crying. Lives ruined. Again. It was terribly heartbreaking.

"Ugh. Why does everything have to come down to what political side you're on? I just want to help people and let that be that." Maya shut the news coverage off. They were trying to get a read on what kind of situation they were walking into, but the whole thing was sickening. Besides, this was Jorge Cervantes's first time officially piloting and the screen had to be distracting from the flight panels.

"So, how's it feel for your first flight officially at the helm?" It was kind of a joke how all the X-men trained on the jet. At one point or another, everyone had sat in the pilot's seat before they were "officially" allowed to. That's just how emergencies seemed to work. If he were a student, she would have given him a noogie. As it was, she was sorely tempted to give the older man a noogie anyway. She was just so proud.

"The relief cargo didn't even shift too bad on take off." Probably because they'd strapped it in nice and tight. She hoped their landing wouldn't be too white-knuckle considering it was fast approaching and the mayor of Livingston would be meeting them in order to receive the aid and best direct them on where to apply their powers.

Maya stretched in her new x-men uniform that had been designed by the talented Mr. Javier Martín Moreno. It made her feel like an adult with the black leather-like material. She'd certainly outgrown the high heels that Sam insisted on so long ago.

Disasters were terrible. Whenever Jorge saw them on the news and watched the footage of families that had lost everything to something way beyond their control, he felt a part of his heart shrivel up in sympathy. How was that fair in this world? You work so hard, you spend your life creating your nest egg, setting up your house, or moving to the one place you really want to live, and look what happens? Nature suddenly decides that your house needs to be moved down the street, or, in this case, your neighborhood needed to be drowned under several feet of torrential water. It was tragic, to say the least.

But, Jorge couldn’t let it bring him down. He often had a complex about needed to rescue the world all on his own but he had to remind himself that that wasn’t his job. He already was a police officer and an X-Man and a father, and soon to be a husband; he had his own world to look after. There was only so much of himself that he could give the world. He was only one man.

And, right now, he was one man on a mission to try and offer relief and help to the the people of Livingston, Louisana. The call came in that several floodings had practically drowned the town and disaster relief was having a hell of a time getting in to help people. Even though they were several states away, what was the point of having a jet if you weren’t going to use it? However, it was slim pickings between active members of the X-Men, but at least they were among the most useful in this situation.

Jorge sat at the control panel of the jet, his eyes peering through the windows, looking between them and the flat screens that fed him diagnostic and flight pattern information. This was actually a big deal for Jorge as he had not really had the opportunity to fly the X-Jet on his own before. He usually had another member at his side, providing a bit of a safety net should he need it. Today he was on his own -- well...mostly…

>>"Ugh. Why does everything have to come down to what political side you're on? I just want to help people and let that be that."

”Thanks…”

He smirked. Ghost, the X-Men’s residence wind-manipulator, was with him. She was the lead on this mission and, between the two of them, they should be more than able to handle the job. After all, when you have the combined ability of a typhoon, who else would you send on a disaster relief mission? Still, Jorge had to be careful around Ghost as the woman’s personality was that...energetic.

A snort flared his nostrils as he peered at the screens, reaching over to push in a button and ensure that they were still flying straight. He was glad that Ghost had turned off those monitors as the last thing he wanted was to listen to a bunch of political mumbo-jumbo. There were clearly more important matters on his mind, including the fact that there was a doppleganger of himself left back in New York City. But Gemma, Chase, Marisol, they were safe, he knew that, he wouldn’t have left otherwise.

Though he was focused ahead, he could feel the liquid in Ghost’s moved closer to him, peering over his shoulder. He needed to be careful as he had a sneaking suspicion that she wanted to give him some congratulatory pat on the back, maybe even something more childish (Mirror told him to watch his back, especially when he was ding a good job.).

>>"So, how's it feel for your first flight officially at the helm?"

”Pretty smooth so far,” he said with a careful nod. ”Turbulence was a bit rough for a second back there but something tells me you had a hand in taking care of that?” He smirked in her direction.

It was strange. For how different their personalities were, the two of them tended to work best together. When it came down to doing their jobs, both were extremely focused X-Men, willing to do what they needed to do to ensuring that innocent lives were spared. Ironically Jorge never liked working with partners down at the precinct, but when it came to the X-Men, despite his grumbling, he rather enjoyed having Ghost’s company. He knew that if she were watching his back, they were both making it home safe.

>>"The relief cargo didn't even shift too bad on take off."

”That’s good,” he said, listening as Maya moved to claim a seat and stretch out. She was in her X-Men uniform, something that Jorge still refused to do. He wasn’t some idealisitc twenty-something anymore. Rather the man was dressed in a simply t-shirt, rugged jeans, and work boots. The only piece of clothing he wore that made it even seem like he was a member of the team was the leather jacket he wore and the X-Badge proudly clipped to the front. He glanced to Maya before he turned his eyes forward again. ”New uniform looks good. I still don’t know how you fought in those heels.”

Whaaaat? Something to do with the turbulence? Maya would never! And her face echoed that mock innocence and outrage. What was the point of controlling the wind if she never got to benefit herself? And really, everyone would be so disappointed if they crashed and died because if some misbehaving wind.

> ”New uniform looks good. I still don’t know how you fought in those heels.”

He surprised a laugh out of her as she buckled in for their descent.

“I could have gone barefoot and it wouldn't have made a difference except to make us look sloppy as a team.” She did take a moment to eye Jorge's lack of a uniform, but decided it wasn't a conversation worth having. He had more obligations than just the x-team. It was probably difficult for him to juggle the branding of it all with several different requirements between the X-Men and the police and being true to himself.

“Ghost form meant my feet rarely touched the ground and when I was sick halfway in, I weighed quite a bit less. Weigh less, blister less. I dunno. They never bothered me as much as the dumb skirt.” A skirt which flapped in the wind incessantly.

She felt the plane pitch a bit and resisted helping. She could set this bad boy down on a dime if she wanted to. Her aerial senses were great enough to extend outside of the plane. Far enough, even, to sense the crowd below before they had broken through the low cloud cover.

“Looks like you'll be landing for an audience. I'll keep my hands off so you can show ‘em how it's done.” The fact that the New York X-Men were celebrities was still boggling. In the averted future, she'd been far higher profile and done bigger, scarier, public-er things and somehow had been known less.

“You ready for all this?” Rowan was home with her dad. Cafas was off for film promotion. She wasn't even worried. It was just a relief run where they would use their powers and maybe get a little tired from overexertion. It wasn't like they were in any kind of danger.

Jorge took a steadying breath as he kept his eyes on the scene before him. They were getting closer to their landing point, near the heart of the damage. There were so many people who had lost so much. And while the X-Men couldn’t help them all with everything, they would help as many with as much as they could. In the end, despite appearances, they were still only human.

As such, there was clearly room for levity. As the detective drew closer to their location, he had to share a smile with his colleague and comment that her latest uniform was an improvement. Really, some of the uniforms that his teammates wore were…interesting to say the least. Ghost had been among them, including both a skirt and heels, two items that don’t really seem appropriate for being out in the field. Then again, it wasn’t as if the detective was a spring chicken with abs for days. Then again, even in his younger days, he doubted he would wear something so ridiculous.

>>“I could have gone barefoot and it wouldn't have made a difference except to make us look sloppy as a team.”

He chuckled. They needed to look like a team, he guessed.

>>“Ghost form meant my feet rarely touched the ground and when I was sick halfway in, I weighed quite a bit less. Weigh less, blister less. I dunno. They never bothered me as much as the dumb skirt.”

Another smirk. He was glad that Ghost had managed to get herself pieced back together. He knew what that was like, all too well. ”Well thank god for changes,” he said with a smirk. ”Maybe one of these days I’ll have to contact your tailor and get myself a spiffy outfit.”

He was kidding, of course. Though, with Ghost, it was hard to tell whether or not she was just leave it as a joke in the air between them. More than likely they would return from this mission with Ghost having already made an appointment for him. But he wouldn’t dwell on those thoughts now.

It seemed like only moments had passed before he was hovering over the landing zone. He could already tell how much water was flooding the area, coursing through homes, businesses, and across streets. It was almost distracting but the watermancer took a calming breath, peering past all of it and focused on landing this plane without killing the both of them.

>>“Looks like you'll be landing for an audience. I'll keep my hands off so you can show ‘em how it's done.”

”Glad to hear it, Teach,” he said with a smirk. ”Would hate to make Gemma jealous.” Again, more teasing. Normally the detective was the most stoic of the group but he had worked with Ghost enough times that the man could afford to be a bit more comfortable with her, and that included a few well-timed jokes and some teasing.

With one last breath he reached over and started the land this bird as carefully as he could. There were some wobbles but, for the most part, he managed to take the plane down with some manner of skill. Clearly he listened during his lessons.

>>“You ready for all this?”

Jorge sighed. The lower they got, the more devastation that he could see. This was not going to be an easy day. With a glance to Ghost, he gave her a soft nod but only spoke one he felt the wheels touch down on the asphalt. ”About as ready as I’ll ever be.”

***

It was tragic to see. The town was decimated, homes soaked through so that there was a heavy scent of water and mildew in the air. People with only the clothes on their backs and whatever meager belongings that they could carry were huddled and being moved to the X-Jet. Jorge and Ghost made short work of moving through the neighborhood, rescuing people from rooftops, helping them to collect what they could. It was quite the sight to behold, to watch as two individuals alone attempted to rescue and bring aide to as many as possible, but even then it still didn’t feel like enough.

As Ghost was off doing what she could, Jorge was leading a small troop of people back to the X-Jet. He parted the water that had sunk the majority of the neighborhoods main street, but by parting the waters he could lead the poor souls back to the jet where they could provide them some warm blankets and a trip to the government sanctioned stadium where people were meeting up.

Jorge tapped the communicator in his ear to talk to his teammate. ”Ghost, this is Jorge. I’ve collected the last handful of stranded from Scotch Ave, I’m leading them back to the jet now. How’re things on your end? We ready to get these people to the stadium?”

> ”Would hate to make Gemma jealous.”

Knowing Gemma and knowing Jorge? That just made the air elemental laugh all the way 'til landing.

***

There were hands to shake and supply off-loading to supervise. Ghost felt good about putting the supplies directly in the hands of those that lived in the community rather than the nationally organized relief. The big guys were nice enough, but they didn't have the knowledge that this community, so frequently destroyed and rebuilt, had of their own neighbors.

The citizens were eager to have Jorge try to shove the entire mass of water back out into the ocean. Jorge was powerful, but they seemed to expect a miracle. Once the people realized that wasn't an option, they went straight into recovery and rescuing the people and animals that lived here.

Ghost said the right words, shook the right hands, and got her own directions for helping. If the water had been gone, she could have helped dry things out a bit, but until the waters receded her power was best used to deliver supplies, scout, and pick up any singleton stragglers she could find. She gathered up as much as she could carry, zipped away, and delivered food and blankets and water like Santa Claus.

The citizens were morose and devastated, shell-shocked that it had happened. Again. Only a few wanted to shake her hand, which was fine by her. People were important, but she didn’t want to spend the entire day talking. Not when there were people still out there in danger.

Through radio contact with the recovery efforts, Ghost and Jorge saw very little of each other throughout the day. Only waving from a distance or chatting over their coms when they had a moment. Once she was free from the social obligations, Ghost went scouting over areas too dangerous or totally underwater. Reporting what she found helped direct the rescue boats to where people actually needed the help. She might not have been walking people through the water like Moses or Jorge, but she felt accomplished when she helped an elderly woman and child climb down from a treetop and into a dingy.

All those transformations between her incorporeal and human states all while trying to keep an encouraging smile on her face was exhausting, but nothing as bad as the people who lived here were going through. So Ghost endured, knowing that they only had a few more things they could help with today before they fell into bed and did it all over again tomorrow.

Jorge buzzed in her earpiece as Ghost did one last pass near one of the broken leveys. It wasn’t sabotage. It was really unfortunate circumstances.

> "...We ready to get these people to the stadium?”

"Yes. I’ll head back now.” Ghost altered her route, seeing nothing moving but the lapping of water past the embankments that weren’t yet done being restored from the last time this happened. "I hear there will be hot meals ready to pass out.” She hoped they might get to eat one, but she wasn’t entirely excited by the idea of passing them out and talking to people.

Ghost picked up the pace and by the time she was back at the jet, she was a gale force strong enough to rock the X-jet on it’s wheels. Water slapped up against the landing gear and Ghost swirled herself down and around until she could compress herself back into her body.

"Is everyone here?” That was her mom/x-man voice, loud and clear. It had been a long day, but she did her best to be cheerful. It was standing room only in the jet and Ghost had to turn and squeeze her way to the front cockpit. That had to be a fire violation or something.

"Alright then everyone strap in or hold on!”

It was hard to look at. It was even harder to listen to. Once the people had seen what Jorge could do, they practically begged him to try and draw all the water out from the neighborhood. But it wasn’t as easy as all that. Jorge could move it around, push it from one place to another, but he couldn’t just will it out of existence, and especially not that much water at the same time. Most seemed to understand, other grumbled what good was he then, but he didn’t do this for the praise. So long as he could offer even a crumb of help, then he would.

After he had collected the last of survivors that he could find, Jorge led the group back to the X-Jet. The rescue crews were trying their hardest to evacuate the neighborhood but they couldn’t get everyone out at the same time. With the X-Jet, at least both he and Ghost could offer these people a quick trip back to the stadium where the officials could take better care of them.

As they walked through the parted waters, people commented and Oo’d and Ah’d at this display of power. Most of them were praying to God, thanking Him for sending down a real life angel as a sign that they hadn’t been forsaken. Jorge kept quiet, though, not really wanted to get defensive about his abilities. The last time he had been referred to like that, well, he had been fifteen years old; he wasn’t looking for a repeat performance. Still, he bit his tongue. These people were going through one of the worst days of their lives and the last thing that they needed was an old, gruff detective, grumbling about their beliefs.

Once he was sure that he had the last he could take, he contacted his teammate to get an idea of where she was. The jet was prepped for them to carry quite a few people, some were already waiting there. He would be glad to take them out of this and someplace, he hoped, would be better for them.

>>"Yes. I’ll head back now. I hear there will be hot meals ready to pass out.”

”Glad to hear it,” he said with a nod. ”Won’t solve all their issues, but a warm belly will hopefully boose morale.”

Jorge waved for everyone to continue to follow him. Once he made it to the rise of a small hill, he turned back around, gesturing for everyone to continue on past him. Only when he was sure that everyone was present, including those few animals whom he told the owners to carry or leash, he sighed and snapped his fingers. waters sloshed back into the street, filling it up, churning in the debris covered stretch of asphalt. Jorge visibly slumped a little, reaching out to hold onto a lamp post for a moment. That was pretty exhausting.

A steady breath and Jorge turned back to the homeless crowd behind him. ”Everyone, please, start getting into the jet. We’ll take you straight to the stadium so that you can get the proper aide.”

He gave them all a smile, albeit a tired one, and gestured towards the jet. A few seemed a little unsure but, seeing no better option, they trudged on. He waited until the last person was boarding, a chiseled faced, white-haired military type who seemed, by far, the worse of the wear. He said nothing when Jorge had rescued him from atop his trailer home and still was quiet the entire trip over. Now he merely looked Jorge over, tiredly, before he turned around and joined the others in the jet.

Jorge sighed. He really was doing his best. But now wasn’t the time for hurt feelings. He moved on, heading back to the sleek jet.

The jet was roomie but there were still a lot of people. Mostly the elderly and disabled took the open seats, the other choosing to stand up and hold onto the safety straps that the detective had released from the ceiling once he realized how many people they would be taking on. He did a quick headcount, ensuring that everyone was here, before he turned to glance out the ramp. There a brief moment of shaking when he felt felt the wind buffet the side of the jet, but as soon as that started, it was done. Now he could hear the footsteps of Ghost as she made her way onto the jet.

>"Is everyone here?”

Jorge nodded. Even though she wasn’t asking him, the fact that no one said anything about left behind loved ones was encouraging -- or tragic. He wasn’t quite sure what to feel yet. He just wanted to get out of here at this point. When Ghost was within sight, he gave her a thumbs up that everyone was accounted for and made his way to the front.

Slipping into his seat, he sighed as he put on his headgear. He really kind of wished that Ghost would have taken the helm for this but he was the one being graded here. It was easy to fly a jet when it was only him and Ghost on board, but this, with all these civilians, would certainly be a test. So, with a calming breath, he attached his belt, and started too flick switches on the dashboard, including one to retract the ramp and close the loading door.

>>"Alright then everyone strap in or hold on!”

He smirked, tapped the com. ”Thank you to everyone for your patience. As my colleague said, please prepare for take off. We’ll be at the stadium before you know it. Taking off in… three… two… one… boom…”

Another flick and the jet roared to life. Jorge ground his teeth, thought back to his training and started to lift them off into the sky, leaving the sunken neighborhood behind. The stadium wouldn’t be the best scenery afforded to them, but at least there would be supplies, warmth, food, and hopefully...family. Jorge glanced to Ghost when she finally came up and took a seat next to him in the co-pilot seat. It was time to go...

Jorge was so positive that Ghost was a little ashamed she'd been thinking about how much work it would be to pass out the food. At the end of the day, they would get to walk away. This was the reality these people lived in now. There was no walking away for them. They were here to help, but anyone could have filled that role. They were here for morale. As heroes. It was time to dig deep and provide every kindness she could. It might be the one thing to turn someone's day around.

Ghost strapped herself into the co-pilot's seat and readied a helping breeze in case he needed it... of course he didn't. They might have an audience, but the jet was full of all the information needed to have a successful flight. They weren't in any danger. There was plenty of room. The only thing working against him was nerves and Jorge apparently wasn't susceptible to such a mundane worry.

> "three… two… one… boom…”

"You're too cool sometimes, Jorge." Ghost rolled her shoulders and stopped a puppy from wiggling under Jorge's feet. She unbuckled her harness in order to return the little squiggly ball of floof. She let some kids up front to see after getting promises not to touch anything. Otherwise their flight was uneventful.

Jorge set them down just outside of the stadium and Ghost went to the hatch to help people down and shake hands.

"Thank you for choosing X-Men Air, we were glad to be able to give you a lift." Her pretend stewardess act got a half-smile or two, but mostly people were still shell-shocked. There was one gentleman with white hair who seemed like he wouldn't even shake her hand at first.

"I hear there's hot food inside." She tried to sound hopeful about that. Maybe it wouldn't be boiled hotdogs. Maybe it'd be something from a 5-star chef?

"Shouldn't even be here." He grumbled, but did give Ghost a firm handshake. A little too firm. Her smile became a little more toothy as she grit her way through the rough handling. Some guys were just like that. They had to strangle their dominance out of the handshake. At least he wasn't a arm-yanker like the mayor had been.

And just like that he moved on and Ghost was finishing up the line of handshakes and goodbyes. Her legs were feeling a bit shaky, actually. It'd been a long day and overuse of her power had already shut down her ranged senses leaving her feeling a bit claustrophobic and blind. When had that happened? The last person chased their rowdy puppy down the off ramp and tried to cut it off before it escaped into the parking structure.

"I hope we're doing the right thing here..." She just needed a second. That's all. Then they could go in and help pass out the food.

The ascent had gone successfully enough, even if it was a little nerve wracking to have Ghost directly at his side. Still, it was the co-pilot seat and it made him feel a tad bit better that he wasn’t doing this completely on his own right now. He just wished that the circumstances were just a tad bit better. Flying in a jet, full of people who were rescued from the worst day of their lives, it really wasn’t the best circumstance to be in. But, it was the job and it was something that the detective was, in part, used to. But there was a difference in walking into these situations as a hero, as opposed to walking into one as a police officer.

There would be time to think about that later. Once in the air, Jorge let Ghost do her job in keeping everyone corralled, including a rather curious dog, while he kept his eyes on the metaphorical road ahead. It should be a relatively short trip.

***

Thankfully it proved to be completely uneventful. Before even Jorge knew it, he was hovering over the landing zone for the stadium. Once he was sure that the area of was clear, he began his descent. Unlike before, he was even more careful and definitely trying to ensure that he didn’t send them hurtling into the ground. A small quiver shuddered throughout the jet but, still, he was gentle enough that when the vehicle touched down onto the ground that there was barely a shake.

Finally, when he was sure that all wheels were on the ground, he released his breath and gave Ghost a careful smile. He would leave the pep talks to her as he turned off the engines of the jet and pulled off his headset. Setting it on the console, he rolled his shoulders to kick off the tension before standing up from his seat.

He turned back just in time to see Maya start to show people off the jet.

>>"Thank you for choosing X-Men Air, we were glad to be able to give you a lift."

He smiled. It was hard to not smile around Maya. There was such a effervescent energy that it was damn near impossible to be sour around her. Then again, these people had lost a lot in a single day and this was only going to be the beginning of their hardships. Still, some tried to be good sports and smiled concerning her antics, others were even genuine about it. But still, there was such much suffering to be had. He hoped that they could at least alleviate a small part of it.

Jorge made his way towards the back, to start unloading supplies to deliver when he spotted a much older man in pretty good shape. His shirt hair, his gruff demeanor, the scar down his cheek, he looked like ex-military maybe. Jorge nodded his head in greeting towards here but only received a short, icy glance. The man was grumbling to himself so, when the detective passed, he spoke up.

”You have my condolences for what happened here,” Jorge apologized.

The other snorted. “Sorries won’t bring my home back.” He then sighed. “Whatever.” He grumbled and then reached out, grabbing Jorge by the shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and walking past him. “I guess it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Jorge clenched his jaw, letting the man walk away without engaging. He dealt with disgruntled people before and sometimes it was just better to be the target than try to explain anything for anyone. He merely lowered his head and continued on towards the back.

Just inside the door, Jorge started to punch the commands into the console when he noticed something rather strange. He felt a strange wave of weakness vibrate through his limbs. He reached out, leaning against the wall and just took a few, short breathes. That was really, really strange. He didn’t know what to think of it. He must be tired. That was really the only thing that he could think of. He moved around a lot of water today and moving that much usually left him feeling funny. Still, even as he opened the door, he couldn’t help but notice that this was slightly different than all of that.

Huh.


>>”I hear there's hot food inside."

>>”Shouldn't even be here."

Jorge glanced. It was Maya’s turn with the old guy and she was still trying to be her usual, perky self. Bless her for her endurance. She dealt with the man as best she could but even she couldn’t withstand to that cynicism that Jorge could feel emitting from him in waves.

Once the man was gone, the detective glanced to see that Maya seemed just a bit off. If she were anything like him, she had a long day behind her as well and she certainly would be feeling the effects as well. Still, he was worried about her so, leaving the panel behind, Jorge moved to her side, ignoring the strangeness that was settling over his own mind as well.


>>”I hope we're doing the right thing here..."

”We helped people,” he said. ”And there’s only so much we can do. We’re not gods, you know?” He took a shaky breath, feeling a bit weak again and leaned back against the wall. He didn’t look great but he couldn’t help but inquire after her health. ”You okay there, Maya? Need...a rest?”

> ”We helped people... We’re not gods, you know?”

He was right. Of course Jorge was right. Even if Maya hadn't known he'd been that close before she heard him talk. She startled when he spoke, but Jorge was just Jorge. Full of wisdom and humility and responsibility and all those other -ilities that made up the chemical composition of good people.

"You're right." But looking after the grouchy man, she couldn't help but feel that she'd done something wrong... She shook herself out of it with a shuffle of shoulders.

"Of course you're right. It's hard not to look up to people like you, though." She nudged her junior on the team. Jorge was her senior in almost every other way, even by way of maturity. Maya grinned at him, still feeling wan, but at least her spirit had picked back up. How very bone-weary she was must have shown.

> ”You okay there, Maya? Need...a rest?”

"I'm okay." She insisted. "I'll be okay-er after a week in bed and a good, hot shower. But this is a need we have to fill now. No sense in blowing it just 'cause I'm out of shape." That had to be it. She just hadn't practiced sustained use of her power in a while. Extreme situations and all that.

Maya settled a loose set of straps on the jet so no one would trip and grabbed a few boxes to help Jorge. There wasn't anything personal she needed from inside the jet and they'd be on their way home soon enough, presumably.

Turning off the lights and raising the ramp was about all she needed to do, besides helping to carry those last few boxes of supplies off.

"What about you, old man? Losing steam?" She was so clever with her water pun. She was so very pleased with herself, it showed all over her face. Was she struggling under the weight of more boxes that she should have picked up? Oh yeah. But she was still grinning, all the same, as they walked the supplies in toward the waiting stadium.

"Once more into the fray..."

Volunteers were eager to receive them and the blankets and various boxed contents. It was strangely overwhelming to be surrounded by people that she couldn't place. She couldn't feel where they were and she kept bumping into them or being surprised. Maya could smell the food long before she was ever shown to the serving line. Eventually, she settled into one of the scooping spots for what appeared to be mac and cheese.

Most people didn't know her name, but they did know teh uniform. They perked up just at the sight of her. She shook even more hands and smiled so much, she was pretty sure her cheeks were stuck that way.

"What do you do?"

"I'm an air elemental." Giving people their scoop wasn't enough to get them to move on sometimes. This group seemed rather eager.

"Ohh that is so cool. Could you show us?"

"Sure." She hoped she didn't sound as exhausted as she felt. Maya's most flashy ability was her transformation between solid and air. Looking down the line at all the interested faces, she figured that she would not be getting out for anything less.

So she inhaled sharply and... and nothing.

"Uhm." She tried again. A great BIG inhale and she jumped and, still, nothing. Maya landed on the ground on her two, solid feet. "I-I'm actually probably a bit over my limits today." The panic was bubbling up so sharply that she thought she might throw up. Where'd Jorge gone? Because something was definitely wrong.

>>"You're right...Of course you're right. It's hard not to look up to people like you, though."

They did what they could. They had to be happy with that. As much as Jorge liked to be able to help people, as much as he wanted to be the hero, there were times where he needed to remember that there was only so much that he could do. Now was one of those times; and they were words that Ghost needed to hear too. They weren’t gods, for as amazing as their abilities. They may be able to move the elements like some higher power, but at the end of the day, they were just as human as anyone else.

He smirked, rolling his eyes a little a Ghost’s playful comment. ”Well, that’s your own fault for being shorter than me.” He grinned sassily. Once the last person was off, the watermancer breathed a sigh. It was time to get the harder work done. He just wished that he felt...better.

Jorge didn’t feel right. He felt a little...off. But considering how much work he did out in the field, he wasn’t 100% surprised by that notion either. Moving so much water tended to leave the man confused and drain. With him trying to clear out entire neighborhoods in order to find any stragglers, it was no wonder. Yeah, he was just tired. But it wasn’t his own safety that he was worry about right now, it was his partner’s. Ghost was always so peppy but right now she looked utterly exhausted.

>>"I'm okay...I'll be okay-er after a week in bed and a good, hot shower. But this is a need we have to fill now. No sense in blowing it just 'cause I'm out of shape."

He was still concerned but he knew better than to stand up to Maya’s determination. She wanted to keep pushing forward, then so be it. Turning on his heel, he led the way to the cargo hold where they could start unloading supplies.

The work was laborious but it wasn’t anything that Jorge was not used to. Then again, after only moving a couple of boxes, already Jorge could feel that he was starting to get out of breath. Jeez, maybe he did move more water than he should? With a sigh he picked up his bottle of water and took a long sip. He was going to have to consume a lot to replenish everything that was used up while he was working. Jeez, maybe he was getting old. But while Jorge would have liked to continue on without any hint to his slowing body, Ghost had always been an observant one.

>>"What about you, old man? Losing steam?"

He snorted as he took a final swig of water and picked up the two boxes of supplies that he had stacked in preparation for the move. ”I should arrest you for that pun, you know that?”

Another shared smile and he followed Ghost off the plane and towards the stadium where the masses were waiting for some kind of relief to the terrible situation their lives had become.

>>"Once more into the fray..."

The both of them were greeted by a few suspicious looks but the majority of them seemed to immediately take note of the symbols upon their attire. Even though Jorge didn’t wear the full regalia, the specialized jacket with the X-Symbol on the chest was enough for people to understand. He wasn’t here in the capacity of a cop, but as a hero. While that partially made him uncomfortable, if that was what he needed to do to keep on the good side of the masses, then so be it. He only hoped he had enough strength to make it to the end of this day.

While Ghost went to assist in the food lines, Jorge had volunteered to head out to the the group and pass out blanket and toiletry kits. After handing off a few blankets and toothbrush kits, Jorge stopped as he smiled to a pair of young kids that had been following him. He was so surprised by them that he almost jumped when he didn’t notice that they were behind him. Smiling, he knelt down and offered them a toy ball, one of the few toys that were being passed out to the kids, before he straightened up with a sigh.

Jorge was about to return to his work when something finally occurred to him -- they snuck up on him. Confusion flashed across his features as he absentmindedly handed off the last blanket and then turned his gaze to the area. He stood there, staring, eyes shifting from person to person before he just closed them. A few soft breathes and the man suddenly opened his eyes and shook his head.

No. He couldn’t feel them. He couldn’t see them...via their water anyways. Jorge had gotten so used his ability to sense water around him that it became second nature, but now that it wasn’t here, it just became so...hard to not notice. Something was wrong…

Making his way back towards the front, he followed the path to the food stations and immediately sought out Ghost. He could just be tired. That could very well just be it. But he needed to ask her. Was she okay? She had been feeling funny too, right?

”Ghost…” he spoke into the comm device in hs ear. ”I’m on my way to you. Are...Are you okay?”

She made her denials, but Ghost had never lost her powers due to overuse. Sometimes if she'd gotten close to her limits, it might have felt like pushing a boulder up a hill. Headaches were common in the way that a runner might feel when dehydrated after too many miles. She'd been trying to ignore those limits, but... what if she'd broken something? What if she'd broken it beyond repair?

"Are you okay?"
"Look!"
"Whoah, I've never seen an X-man freak out before."
"Is she okay?"
"Have any phone battery left?"

She had stepped back from the serving line and was trying to breathe, but even breathing felt different without her power. More constricting. She couldn't get out of her body. She couldn't focus through the shatter. She couldn't just leave like she wanted to.

A gentle breeze dragged through her hair and Ghost had no vision attached to it. No control. And... weren't they inside? She looked up and around... for what, she wasn't sure. If this was an adapted's field, they had to be close, right? She backed away a few steps until she bumped up against the wall of the arena. Maya looked up at the closed dome top. This wasn't natural wind.

> ”Ghost… I’m on my way to you. Are...Are you okay?”

"Hey. Are you okay?" One of the other line servers was touching her elbow and asking the same thing that Jorge was. He didn't know there was a voice in her ear saying the same stuff. She must have looked as wild-eyed as she felt.

"There's something not quite right." She hit her com to answer Jorge and the other volunteer at the same time. The indoor wind started to pick up in fervor. "This isn't me using my power." In fact, she had to hold her hair down it was getting strong enough to start flopping in her way. "I thought there might be an adapted around, in fact, because I'm cut off."

Properly concerned, now, the volunteer reassured her that she would go find someone in charge.

She had chosen not to use her powers before. She had been cut off when in an adapted's field, too. But this might have been something different entirely.

Jorge needed to move. With every step, it was becoming more and more apparent that something was wrong. He was cut off from his abilities. Not only that, but he couldn’t even feel an inkling of them. There were nothing and that was actually beginning to scare him. He felt like this before, around Gemma, but that was different. He knew the limits of her aura, he knew what being in an adapted aura felt like. It was more like putting a stopper in a bottle, he could still feel like he was a mutant, he was just briefly handicapped. But this...this was different. His abilities were missing entirely.

He needed to make sure he was the only one. Ghost had been acting funny back in the jet and she claimed that she was just tired. He hoped against hope that that was all it was because if something was wrong with her too, then they could be in serious trouble.

He tapped on his intercom. He was making his way towards her and needed to know, was she okay?

>>"There's something not quite right."

Dammit. He closed his eyes as he maneuvered through the throng of people. He bumped into several, issued apologies, and then continued on. Normally he would have been more careful than that; walking with no water sense was obviously turning into a hazard of sorts. He grumbled as he listened in on Ghost as she continued to try and get a handle on the situation. But...something odd was happening beyond just the obvious…

...why was it windy?

Jorge stopped and looked up and around. He could feel the breeze lifting through the air and flowing around them. While it was all that much of an anomaly, the simple face was that he was feeling it inside of a closed stadium. He reached up, smoothing his hair back as it became tossled in the increasingly swifter speed of the wind. What was happening?

>>"This isn't me using my power...I thought there might be an adapted around, in fact, because I'm cut off."

A sigh. ”I don’t think it’s an adapted’s doing…” he said. ”If so...we’re in a room full of ‘em. I’m cut off too.”

Jorge turned and finally spotted the serving line where Ghost was supposed to be volunteering. He started to make her way towards her, moving between the people who were all starting to now noticing the fast moving wind.. Jorge wasn’t far from her when someone suddenly screamed, was picked up off their feet, and hurtled towards him. The civilian-shaped projectile slammed into Jorge, knocking them both down to the ground as the wind slowly reached deafening levels. This wasn’t good...

Maya heard Jorge sigh through their com link. He didn't think it was an adapted because of the range. And, clearly, someone was using Ghost's power. Or a power just like hers. Also, if anyone knew what it was like to go in and out of an adapted's range it was Jorge. Because he had Gemma. Ghost started to wish they'd brough Gemma, even though she wasn't an active teammate. She would have known what to do... and then nobody would be picked up and tossed around with Ghost's power without Ghost saying so.

> "NOW THIS—" A loud voice boomed across the stadium, vibrating throughout all the air in the contained space. Many people, Ghost included, slapped their hands against their ears to try to lessen the cacophony. "—IS THE POWER OF A GOD."

A whole group of people were knocked off their feet as a torrent of wind rushed through the area and made a mess of the serving line.

> "YOU HEROES WERE WASTING IT."

Jorge. Maya had to find Jorge. There wasn't a volunteer line left to meet at. She scrambled over the mess and stopped to help pull a volunteer out from under a table. He was nuclear orange from getting doused in a pan of macaroni and cheese. After she was sure no one else was underneath, she climbed up on top of a half-collapsed table for as might extra height as she dared. Most people were flattening themselves to the ground and grabbing their blankets and belongings to trap underneath themselves.

"JORGE!" She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted into the wind, just hoping she was pointing her shout in the right direction.

"JOOOOOR—!"

Something caught her. Stopped her. It wasn't wind. It was... her. She was stopped and held still.

> "Even the power over people."

His voice was quieter, a whisper of wind in the middle of the torrent meant just for Ghost.

> "You should see what your powers were truly meant to do."

Jorge grunted, feeling the air all knocked out of his lungs. To make matter worse, once he started to recover his senses, he still found it extremely difficult to breathe. The wind, it was everywhere, a sucking vacuum on moment, then sharply flying outward like the blades of million invisible scythes. The only comparison that Jorge could make was that this was similar to a hurricane he once experienced when he was still living in Florida. He had been caught up trying to get home and the speed with which the wind flew was mind boggling.

This was similar to that, only, instead of squaring off against a indiscriminate force of nature, he was battling something that seemed to have far more sinister intentions.

Helping to move the person who flew into him off, Jorge moved to sit up, covering his eyes at the sheer galeforce that buffeted him. He couldn’t be sure but he could have sworn there was a voice in that breeze. His first thought went to ghost but surely she wouldn’t do something like this, unless she was losing control. But judging by their last conversation, that didn’t make sense either. What was happening?

Jorge moved to stand, shielding his face. People screamed around him but the sound was muffled by the unforgiving wind -- all except for one voice.

>>> "YOU HEROES WERE WASTING IT."

”...that’s not good…”

>>"JORGE!"

His head shot up. That voice he certainly knew. It was Maya. Quickly his eyes scanned the sea of faces around him until he finally settled on the smaller woman standing on top of a table nearby. It was her, she was looking for him. Standing up, he kept his face shielded against the unforgiving winds and tried to make his way towards her. There was another mutant here. But with her exact powers?

>>"JOOOOOR—!"

Her voice was cut off. Jorge assumed it was because of the wind so he tried to quicken his pace, moving around people until finally he was at the side of the table. Carefully he reached out. He was still behind her, out of her line of sight, and he doubted he could shout loud enough to get her attention. So, reaching over, he grabbed her hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

”Ghost!!” he shouted, giving her arm a short tug to pull her attention towards him. ”It’s me! What’s happening?!”

It felt as if she was cocooned inside her body, held in the eye of the storm. Wind howled around her, but she was paralyzed to stop it or shy away from it. Paralyzed in general, actually. She was one step removed from the driver's seat. The one thing it seemed she could control was her heart. It fluttered in a panic against her rib cage.

> ”Ghost!!”

She felt the tug. If her body hadn't turned to accommodate it, she probably would have fallen over like a statue. Instead, she felt her face smile. Ghost did not like it. She didn't like it one bit.

> "You should have cleaned up the city properly."

Ghost's hand clamped down on Jorge's arm. Her other hand was aiming for his throat.

> "You could have stopped all this before it even started!"

She tried to say she was sorry with her eyes.