Things were getting under way. Orders were being called out and people seemed to be vying for the top dog spot right now. They could have it as far as Streak was concerned. He wasn’t interested in arguing with who was the most qualified to lead these rescue teams into the rubble. Shawn didn’t know Tarin much more than seeing him at the KP fight. And he only saw him for a short time when they were there anyways. Spirits? Does he mean ghosts? That would be very helpful. Streak thought as the others talked. All Streak was hoping was that they would all stop talking soon and start getting to action. It seemed like people were starting to get the idea and getting moving.

Sara started to make her way into the rubble and Streak was quick to follow her. He’d worked with her plenty of times and it seemed only fair that they worked together now, especially since Shin seemed keen on working alongside Tarin. It wouldn’t be easy for anyone here. Most of them would be blind once they got into the smoke like Shawn would be although with Sara and him teamed up they might have better luck with finding those that are trapped in there. “I’m with ya Sara, let’s go.” He walked in towards the smoke following the clothed werecat. Since her mutation was one of the most evident he’d seen it only made sense that she was wearing a disguise. His only question was whether Sam had brought her along or if she’d come of her own free will.

Smoke quickly filled the scene in front of him as he got closer to the burning building. Sam was trying his best to put it out but it wasn’t happening fast enough for him to see what was going on in front of him. Moving around was difficult and the fact that the place seemed to be trying to collapse didn’t help at all. The current debris was enough to slow him down and he was starting to hope that Sara would be able to sense things better than he could see at the moment.

Slate made simple preparations, as things got under way. He tucked his mittens into his coat pockets. Cleared a space on the ground of debris, mostly with the side of his foot. Waited.

Baby blue eyes flicked now and then to the rescuers, somewhat worried. Mostly, they fell on Sara Nobes. WereCat. Her disguise seemed very fragile. All of theirs did. Sara wore a coat; the rest of them wore a human’s skin.

They would all be exposed before this was over, wouldn’t they?

Yes, if they were going to truly help.

Was it worth it?

Yes.

If some of the others died?

Yes.

If all of them died? Sara, Tarin, Sam, Circe—all of them?

...As long as he walked out of this country alive, yes. Of his own survival, he was reasonably confident: even if he was taken to the Camps, other Kabal members—and X-Men, and the Order, and the Underground—were waiting for some indefinable signal to occur. The breakout would come, and soon. It would succeed. New York’s mutants had already proved themselves in that regard, two years ago. In his own team’s ranks, he knew of at least two people who could and would spark that action: Lenna and Sebastian. He had left them no orders for it; no contingency plans for his own capture. Lenna simply had initiative. Sebastian had wisdom. They both had connections to New York’s other Factions. If he was captured, it was only a matter of time. He could wait.

As long as he put the loyalty command into the Senators here; as long as there were enough survivors to become a seed; as long as things were actually changed, then yes: it did not matter how many of the others died.

Yes.

Though it would prove very hard to replace them.

Some were good employees; some were good friends, or could be. He promised himself that if they survived, he would get to know them better. Sam, Silver Streak, Shin; his own people, as well. Perhaps that would make this a harder decision, the next time. He felt like it should be hard.

It really wasn’t.

Slate sat on the ground, content to wait.

Sebastian was not very good at operating his cell phone yet. He understood what the numbered buttons were for, but the rest up at the top that were supposed to navigate the menu system completely baffled him. Thus far he had learned which button to press to answer an incoming call. He had not learned what to do when the phone told him he had received a text message or how to keep it from taking pictures of the inside of his pocket.

Sebastian and Ghost were just arriving at the outskirts of Bucharest at Slate's (via Noin Mortman's) request when Sebastian's phone buzzed. It was a short buzz, which meant he had a new text message. Since he didn't know how to answer it anyway, the technologically inept immortal just waited. If it was important, he'd also receive a phone call shortly.

The ever thoughtful secretary of Mondragon Labs had telephoned him shortly after he had received but failed to open his last text message and informed him that Slate needed him as soon as possible in Romania. Political events had reached a critical point and the whole team was to assemble there to play out their various roles, whether they were finishing up their honeymoons or not.

This time was no different. The phone rang. Sebastian answered tentatively, his voice questioning that he had indeed pressed the correct button.

"Hello?" After a short pause he closed his phone. He was pretty sure that was the same as disconnecting the line. "We need to go to the Parliament building. Someone is planning to bomb it." Or, if the angry cloud of smoke rising over the rooftops ahead of them was any indication, had already succeeded in doing so.
--
Chaos and order battled on the steps of what was formerly the Romanian government building. Small orange flames chased black smoke out of several of the building's gaping wounds. Debris skittered across the ground at the feet of panicked citizens and steadfast rescuers alike. And above it all, the skeleton of the once glorious building slumped inward, threatening to collapse further at any moment.

It was still too early for official rescue teams to have had a chance to respond, and yet, amidst the ash and confusion a rescue operation was beginning to form. The familiar faces of the Kabal and the X-men were organizing themselves and moving into action like spokes spinning around a stationary hub.

Slate. Where would you like my assistance?

There were spirits, lots of spirit, and a for a few moments everything else was lost in the barrage of images and sounds from the dead. It made Tarin’s stomach turn a little, so many didn’t even know that they were dead. Tarin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, mentally bundling the thoughts and sounds into a back corner of his mind.

Out of his pocket ccame a pair of sunglasses the Medium had planned on taking to the camps. Tarin’s eyes going white, as they were now, made people uncomfortable.

Everything under control, Tarin turned his attention to Sam just in time to hear him order living people into the carnage. Idiot Tarin thought, even if he wasn’t very surprised. The X-leader had a tendency to prefer brawn over brains. The parting shot wasn’t missed either. If Tarin had been a different man, he’d have just let Sam send his team off to possible slaughter. Shin spoke up, though, and Tarin wasn’t that kind of man. He nodded.

”That’s exactly what I was thinking Shin.”

He looked the direction same had gone and called out, ”You’re wasting time! Give me thirty seconds and I can give you guides to exact locations.”

Tarin didn’t wait for agreement, just took a visibly deep breath and started sorting through the things he’d bundled in the back of his head. There were a lot of dead people, but a few were accepting, probably close to passing on. Those were the ones he grabbed, the others he shoved away….hard. IT was like shoving a brick wall, but it gave and within the requested 30 seconds there were six corporeal spirits standing in front of Tarin. He addressed them.
”Find the rescuers.” Tarin mentally pictured them all so the spirits could recognize them, ”Lead them to anyone you can find alive, especially senate members. Take anyone seriously injured to Slate.” another mental image of the Kabal leader, ”Take off. Except for you,” Tarin nodded to one of the spirits, ”You stay with Shin and I.”

The spirits took off and Tarin winced a bit, he was going to e exhausted by the time all of this was over. Turning to Shin, the grinned slightly, almost a grimace, ”Ready?” he turned to the spirit, ”Lead the way. Remember, Senate members and the worst hurt first.”

OOC – Rescuers, you find yourselves in temporary possession of a spirit guide! They can go through walls or become corporeal enough to move rocks or carry victims. They can fly, so they’ll make good runners to/from Slate. Use them well and make them into whoever you want, also assume they know where they’re going. Just remember, most of their energy comes from Tarin, so if you make them do anything too nuts (Like lifting huge boulders) You’re probably going to kill him. Please don’t do that.

Shin watched as Tarin concentrated on his power. Though his eyes were masked behind shades, Shin knew 'focus' when he saw it. Within a short span of time, Tarin had drawn out 6 corporeal spirits. Shin's eyes widened.

It never got old.

>>”Find the rescuers.” ”Lead them to anyone you can find alive, especially senate members. Take anyone seriously injured to Slate.”

Shin waited for Tarin to finish issuing commands, then nodded.

"Let's go."

At their request, the spirit took off into the wreckage. It cut over cracked cement and broken glass, eyes shifting from one location to another. After a half-minute of searching, it gestured towards a massive piece of roofing that looked like a boulder.

As Shin approached it, he could hear a faint cry for help below. His eyes dropped to note a slight depression in the ground. Under there, huh... He took a deep breath, and held up his arms. In Shin's mind, he imagined an inclined plane. Ahead of him, 4" green shards swept up to form a wedge. Shin forced the plane into the depression, and worked the boulder away from it with all his might. A minute later, the boulder gave way.

The spirit dropped into the depression. His spectral eyes fell on a woman, dressed in tatters, and terribly afraid. Her lower half...

As the spirit carried the woman off towards Slate, Shin tried not to cover his mouth. There wasn't time to be disgusted by grotesque injuries. Slate could probably grow back the woman's legs. If nothing else, he could stave off death long enough to give her a new lease on life.

The ghost returned a minute later. Shin looked to Tarin. "I hope the next one is in better shape."

Going into the smoke of the building was as much of a natural reaction for Sara as it was for Sam to run on the scene and put out the flames. Yeah things were safer for most away from the building but Sara didn’t want the general population to see her first then jump to conclusions. With the show of power that was going on already, they were probably going to do that anyway.

“I’m with ya Sara, let’s go.”

Sara didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know it was streak. She recognized his voice and while it was welcomed, and they had worked together before, she still had to get used to it. Doing things alone for so long. It was still habit.

“Hey Shawn.” Her voice was muffled slightly from holding the back of her hand against her mouth and nose. Sara was trying to use the hairs there to try to filter the smoke in the air. It was only helping a little. Mean while debris was still falling around them. “If I tell you to move, and where to, you need to do it right away.” Sara said through the smoke. Sara’s vision wasn’t perfect in here, but it was better then anyone else here who was still breathing. Speaking of witch-

Sara started leading the way when a ghost appeared out of the smoke in front of her. (Hope it’s ok I started the ghost character Streak.) The ghost belonged to a middle aged gentleman. His hair was once brown, from What Sara could see of it (This could be the smoke and debris too.) and it had been receding. The ghost looked between Sara and Streak for a moment, squinting and glaring. Tarin was apparently using his powers.

“You’ll want to head to the right.” The ghost instructed, and Sara moved following his directions. He didn’t seem happy about helping them, but who would be happy if they had just died. Sara pushed open a door that lead to a narrow hall way. The place make her feel claustrophobic, but the walls on either side were still in good shape. The smaller frame work in this section made it more sturdy so there were less things falling around them and they were able to move faster.

Twenty feet down the hall way, the ghost floated through a door, so Sra had to open it for herself. On the other side there was a mess. Ten feet into this room, the ceiling had caved in on top of a desk, making add odd sort of debris sandwitch. The ghost had disappeared into the center of it. “Someone’s breathing inside that.” Sara Said. She hesitated only long enough to look up at the hole in the ceiling. Thing looked like they were done falling but she wasn’t sure. She then moved to the edge of the pile, starting to dig through it with the ghost in the center, pulling things off of the top.

Ghost knew that they were rushing into danger, but it still felt like a holiday. Every day, even the ones spent working hard at cleaning up the old manor in England, felt like a holiday with Sebastian. He had a positivity that was quite often contagious. Not that Ghost wasn't often positive to start out.

The black car raced on the highway as silent as death. The excitement vibrated in the air even in the car and they weren't even there yet. (Oh. Wait. Actually that was Sebastian's phone.) They would have to meet with whoever was coordinating to know where they best could serve. Ghost's bet was that Sebastian would be put somewhere dangerous so that he could heal. It was his fate as per his gift, but she didn't have to like it.

There were people crawling all over the place. It was an ant hill that someone had poked with a big explosive stick.

A kiss on Sebastian's cheek and Ghost was incorporeally away. She knew exactly what she needed to be doing: putting out the fire like only an aeromancer could. Then she would support the structure if that still needed doing. After it collapsed she could seep through the cracks and identify where the people were and bring attention to them so that they could be saved.

It was going to be a long and busy day.

She drifted toward the largest of the wagging tongues of flame and started to squash its air supply as surely as it would have liked to eat her.

“If I tell you to move, and where to, you need to do it right away.”

"That's why I'm coming with you. I figured you could sense anything better than anyone else could once we get into the smoke." Streak said in reply to Sara. Streak continued to follow Sara as the smoke got thicker and thicker. He covered himself back up in silver and ran alongside Sara. Streak continued to follow Sara. Wait… were they taking directions from a ghost? Well who better to know which way they should go than a ghost that might have even died here? Sara soon led him into a narrow hallway that made him worry a bit. He wasn’t claustrophobic but he was worried about a cave in. the rest of the building didn’t seem like it was holding up too well, so then what would make them think that they would be safe from a cave in here in this area.

Thankfully, the hallway was still clear. Sara didn’t seem to be slowing down and neither was Streak. They were focused on getting the people out no matter how they did it; if it was by following a ghost or if it was by them it didn’t matter. Opening the door was another story however. It was just on the other side that things started to get dirty. The ceiling here had given in but just on the outside the door the hallway was clear. The ghost was showing them where someone’s body was just on the other side of the collapse.

“Someone’s breathing inside that.”

“Good. Let’s get ‘em out.” Streak said to her. He rushed forward closer to the debris. Streak didn’t take the time to realize that it was still coming down and very unstable. This was probably part of Shawn’s problem. He rushed in without assessing the situations. He was an action first, look later and ask questions when everything’s all taken care of kind of guy. That might have been the reason that he got hurt often. He looked before he leaped. If Streak had been a few seconds later then they both probably would have been caught in the second collapse. He rushed in and was about to start pulling off rubble when more fell just to his side. “Whoa! That was close! This place is falling apart around us. We need to move fast.” Stating the obvious seemed to happen a lot when someone was in imminent danger of being crushed. Streak would continue to pull off the debris until they reached the person beneath it.

<< Slate. Where would you like my assistance? >>

I must touch all the injured Senators at least once, while they are unconscious, he stated, for reasons the unicorn already knew. After that, it would be best if we split the actual work of healing. I will focus on the ones you may not be able to help quickly enough. I... am not certain how many I can place the command in, as well as heal. Each action takes a toll.

He had done something similar to this in Colombia, after orchestrating the destruction of a military base. Then, however, the Kabal’s members had been under strict instructions to injure, but not kill. This was different.

The first victim made that abundantly clear. He was not sure if they had found her conscious or unconscious in the rubble; he was not sure which team had dug her out. They seemed to have forgotten some of her, though, back in the ruins. The woman was legless, her blood loss making it clear she would not recover. No hospital could fix this. There was barely a spark of life in her as the spirit set her down in front of him, and returned to the search efforts.

The teenager set his hands on the woman.

I believe I’ll take the first one, he stated simply.

A moment later, the woman gasped. Her body went rigid, then stilled; color began to return to her face. She did not wake yet. It was just as well. Slate took of his coat, and settled it over her bare legs. He swallowed, and looked back to his mentor. Yes. Yes, this was going to be quite different.

He did not understand. The Underground Leader’s was his, now. Pacifica was his. He had ordered these pointless attacks stopped. Perhaps the order could be misinterpreted on small matters; perhaps she still had some agents in the field, who had not yet heard the change of orders. But this? This should not have happened, without a direct order. The only one who could give that order was Slate.

Six people flickered into corporeality in front of Tarin.

Groups moved with purpose toward the ruins of the senate building, each following a ghost.

His own Ghost kissed him on the cheek and slipped away to help.

“Stay safe,” he whispered after her.

The honeymoon was over. It was time to get to work.

Understood, he nodded to Slate as the teen knelt to heal a woman's legs; not something he would have been able to do. Nor could he place a command in their minds to make them loyal to Slate's cause.

The second victim that arrived had a big piece of metal shrapnel lodged in her abdomen. Sebastian leaned over her placing one hand on her stomach and the other on the piece of metal to yank it out. The ugly hole it left knit itself back together beneath his fingers. He healed it just enough that her body could take care of the rest on its own. She would live.

The third and fourth victims soon blended into the thirteenth and the thirtieth. Soon Sebastian lost count. He healed each only as much as they needed. For most, that meant they remained unconscious as well. This would allow Slate to enter their minds, but that wasn't the only reason he did it. He only had so much energy to spread around; he wasn't going to waste a spark of it healing scratches and bruises when someone else might need that tiny bit of energy to stay alive.

There were so many victims. So many injuries and so many fatalities. How could they have let all of this happen? If Slate had done his job right, shouldn't he have been able to stop this?

Can you still speak while you heal? He wondered out loud in Slate's direction. If he did not answer, that was an answer as well.

He placed his hands on what felt like the hundredth victim, but nothing happened. The gentleman remained pale and cold beneath his touch. Sebastian closed the man's eyes with his fingertips, carefully trying not to leave smears of someone else's blood, and gently laid him to rest next to another body. Whatever differences they had in life didn't matter any more; they were the same now.

Revolution was never pretty, but this one had become especially ugly in an especially short time.

What exactly happened before I got here?

Fires were pushy beasts. She had to push back or be eated... eaten? Jet lag was painting her a bit goofy, but not unfit for duty. Ghost even saw Sam battling some fiery dragons of his own. No time to waste, though. There was at least one more fire she wanted to quell before she moved on to actual rescue work.

It was a bit on the fringe, but from what she could tell of the layout, the fringe was also near other buildings. Musn't let the fire catch.

But when she got over there... there was more than just a fire to deal with. Ghost became solid to better assess the situation. It was a little boy. He had a beak and feathers on his arms. He was trying to dig.

Fist the fire. Reduce the threat. "Excuse me? Can I help you?" The fire was far away, it would be okay to split her focus. He was only a kid.