Tick, Tick, BOOM

Summer 2021, Week 5

Sunday evening

Athena's Restaurant, Loyalist Bluffs

Bee

Bianca had just gotten off work, still in her work uniform. She was wearing black leggings that held a black belt. She had a black polo shirt that had the EMT symbols on it. Her hair was tied back, strands of her hair had fallen out from the pony tail she had in, but she didn't seem to care to put them back up. She was exhausted from work, she had just pulled a 12 hour shift at the ambulance station. Nothing big had happened, just a few old people falling and a few strokes here and there.   Nevertheless, it was enough to drain the young adult of the energy she had. So she had ordered take out from a restaurant on her way home, knowing she would not be able to handle cooking back at he apartment. She stood towards the front of the restaurant, leaning against a wall. She had her phone in her hand, swiping through texts she had missed while at work. She didn't reply to many of them, she was ghosting her family and everyone back home.   And she had yet to make friends with anyone in her new home outside of her coworkers. And even then, the stressful nature of their job keep them from spending down time together.   So she was basically there, looking at her phone while she waited for her food to be ready, trying to look busy. She would occasionally look up at the restaurant and see the patrons, sitting down with friends and family, enjoying themselves. She took a deep breath in, looking over to the hostess stand, her lips forming into a straight line as her legs already had ached from her shift, standing here waiting for her meal was just adding to the stress.  

Peter Clifford

The Mustang roared into the parking lot and then grumbled to a stop. It sat there for a few minutes as the driver contemplated his entire life and his choices while some soft rock played in the background. Soon though even that was brought to a silent stop and out came the driver.   Peter looked like shit. A night of drinking and debauchery had payed its toll on the man in his mid 20s. Not able to keep up with himself of his early days. He still wore the jeans from that night which were the only ones he could find. Of course they were lying on the floor. His battered converse, ironic T-Shitt and the first jacket he could find as he seemed to be getting day after shivers. Luckily he did remember to leave his sunglasses in his car and so the sun didn't damn near blind him after stepping out. He made a slow walk to the door. Slightly groaning now and again and putting his palm to his head aggressively every now and again. Once inside he made a b-line for a corner booth as he awaited his friend and colleague  

Gettis

Somewhere around the corner, a particularly dirty looking young man's arms were a blur as he dug through the dumpster behind the restaurant, looking for something edible in the trash. He was around 5 foot 3 and relatively skinny, his clothes hanging off him and rustling as he searches. This was a pretty good spot to dumpster dive overall, but he'd gotten tired of eating old falafel.   Meat, goddamn it, where's the meat?? Some old tzatziki sauce got on his already stained tank top and dripped onto his worn shorts. Someone of it even got in his red hair but he paid no heed. He was on a mission. At last, he found it. Half a gyro wrapped in the foil it came in! Score! He crouched down next to the dumpster, unwrapping and devouring the cold treat. It was gone in an instant; he'd practically inhaled it.   It wasn't enough. Gettis was back to digging, looking for more tasty Greek treats left behind. After all, he needed the calories.  

Bee

Not much could have distracted Bee from her trying to look distracted so no one would bother her- but seeing a man waltz into a restaurant, looking half dead, holding his head, and just falling into a booth was one of those few things that could. She furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes traveling from the sign that said 'wait to be seated' and the man who just collapsed into a booth.   She opened her mouth to speak but then closed it. She was trying to decide if this was something worth raising her voice over. She looked around the place and recognizing that the waiters did seem overwhelmed, but they didn't see to notice the man who might as well be the walking dead.   She made her way towards the booth the man had gone to, she wasn't too interested in getting to close to him. Who knows what he smelled like. "Sir? The signs to wait to be seated." She pointed towards the hostess booth she had been by earlier. She looked him up and down, her eyebrows knitted together as she was just overall confused by the state of this man.  

Peter Clifford

God damn his head hurt Peter thought as he sat down. Why did he have to do so with such vigour. Couldn't have just took his time no! Good old Peter needed to sit down that half a-   Wait. Time seemed to slow down for the hungover man as the woman started to talk. He has not even noticed her. Never mind that she had come his way. To see him? Talk to him? Fuck, in this state? Typical. All of his thoughts came to a sudden stop as the woman gave him a look of pure fury One that his mother used to give him and Peter often had to do his 'I'm a good lil boy' smile and hope to humour her out of. Yet, it seemed that it probably wouldn't work on her with the way she looked.   What did she say? Something about seating? Did she want to sit here? Is it like her local or something. "Hey, urgh. I... you want to sit?" The words came out before his brain had even managed to understand what words were. Peter performed the most awkward of smiles imaginable with his eyes darting around the not really sure exactly where to look.  

Bee

That was not the response she was expecting. Not at all. This was clear in the fact she was silent for about half a minute while she recovered from that. She took a deep breath in, looking around the shop to see if anyone else had noticed this mess of a man making a fool of himself.   "No- I-" She shook her head. "No."   She took a second to clear her head so she could better respond. "No I do not want to sit with you. I just came to tell you that you are making the servers' lives harder by ignoring the sign. Plus you look like a corpse. Like a dead man walking." She added that last part in because she smiled in reply to her scolding him.  

Peter Clifford

Now doing his best to concentrate Peter squinted his eyes. Although it was hard to see due to his sunglasses. He smiled at the insult raising his brow with playfulness while his arms folded in front of him. "Oh yeah? Maybe I am dying. Hell, I think it would be better that suffering with this hangover right now." It was then that Peter noticed her uniform and the smile starting to wither away from his face. He signalled to the empty seat. "Come sit, have some food on me. I'm not sure when my friends arriving"  

Bee

She put her face into her hands, facepalming a bit. She wasn't getting a good first impression from this guy. But at least the hangover made sense. "A hangover. At 5 pm? Jesus, what kind of day did you have?" She laughed a bit at the idea of of this whole conversation. She looked around again, no one was looking. Her food wasn't ready yet. She sat down with some hesitation. "Fine, but only till my food gets here." She looked around the place, she hardly fit in with her work uniform, but she had been in the area. And was looking for a good meal to treat herself after such a stressful day at work. She gave a conversational smile.   "You should really try taking something for the hangover, and drink a lot of water. Soon."  

Peter Clifford

Pete returned with a laugh. Shaking his head slightly while tapping his knuckles on the table. "Appreciate the advice but this ain't not ordinary hangover. Years are catching up with me I'm afraid. Well, that an a few other things.. " He drifted off for a second and seemed to wince. His hand found his ribs and he rubbed them softly. Peter then regained his focus. "Anyway, I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to be. Trust me. I hate all this posh foods. It's all a scam" The big smile returned to his face and he held his hand out to shake. "Names Peter by the way."  

Bee

She gave a nod, knowing there was absolutely no way she could understand what that man had said to her and what it was referring to. So the poliete thing to do was just nod.   "Ah. I see. You look a litte... Under the whether. Why are you going into a nice restaurant while.....in your state." She caught herself from saying anything that would be considered rude, because Bee was nothing if not semi-polite when she wanted to be.   "Nice to meet you Peter, I'm Bianca. Everyone called me Bee though. Like the bug."  

Peter Clifford

"Do I need to be scared you're going to sting me? If so I'm allergic... honest." Peter raised his hands up in surrender and laughed. "I've been asked by a... friend. Weird as fuck message. Normally the guy talks for England but, not this time."  

Bee

She rolled her eyes, keeping her smile though. "No I am sure you are fine, I don't sting." She was at least happy that, in his state, he was able to make jokes and laugh. She didn't think she could handle another person dropping dead in front of her. "A friend? Who talks for England?" This seemed a little odd, but nothing this man has said or done so far could be considered normal. "And you just come and go at this friends beck and call?  

Peter Clifford

The lad shrugged half heartedly and smirked. Poor Americans never get my sayings bless them. Least I didn't try and cockney slang this time. Peter then did his best to put emphasis on his own accent. Posh southern English. "Sorry love, its a saying back where I'm from. Apologies if you ain't used to it. I am no lap dog but he sounded worried and well-" He signals to her own uniform "We have to help those in need right?"  

Bee

"Not when I'm off the clock" She joked. "No- Just kidding. I get it, I guess. Can't take of others until we take care of ourselves, right? that's what they say" She yawned into her hand. Her shift had been particularly tiring. She looked over her shoulder, not bothering to make eye contact again when she spoke to him. "So you feel like.. well you feel like shit. Your friend needs you for something that you think is important, so he asks you to meet him here? Out of all the places to meet, this would be far from my first choice. Honestly? Who knows. Maybe he was hungry. I know I am starving right now.  

Peter Clifford

"Honestly? Good question. Not normally the type for this rich shit. Neither am I to be honest. Though, I have to put up with it all my life" He sighed. Yawned as if to join hers then shook his head. "Sorry for the used line, here. What is a girl like you doing at a place like this anyway"  

Bee

"Overused, but hey! You apologized. I'm getting off work" She gestured to her clothing, "Obviously. So I was going to grab something to eat before I got home- I really have no groceries. I should have gone shopping like a week ago but I keep pushing it off. Plus I am too tired to cook anyway. I loved greek food back home and decided to treat myself."   "Put up with it all your life? Sounds like there is a story there." She looked over her shoulder, noting her food was not ready. "Well, we both have time to spare, don't be shy. Tell me all about that life you had to put up with" She said this with a smile, her elbows resting on the table. She rested her chin on her hands and waited for him to speak.  

Peter Clifford

"I understand. I too do long hours though it's nothing as pressured as yours. Yet, I hope that some day I'll be able to help people like you, you know. Make your lives easier." His expression was solemn. Truly believing in what he was saying with strong firey determination in his eyes. Then he smiled once more. Turning the conversation back to a more joyful manner. "I make it sound a burden don't I? Nah, nothing like that at all. Just when you grow up aroun-"   Peter halted. The look on his face one of pure concentration. His ears seemed to perk up. The hairs on his arms standing to attention and his eyes on stalks. Steadily he stood. Continuously looking around. It felt like an eternity for him, yet in reality it was a few seconds. Something was just... wrong. He could feel it. Deep inside himself. With no explanation. His mind controlling him as opposed to him controlling it. Moving his body to scan everything.   Then it found it. His eyes seemed to zoom in. A faint blur in the kitchen. Gas. "EVERYONE GET DOWN" Was all the man could manage before darting over the table with a jump on top of Bee in order to protect her.  

Storyteller

Tick, tick, tick, tick...tick...tick......tick......tick......tick. Time seemed to slow as it all happened at once. Heads of the restaurants patrons turned to look at Peter, the same time he was in the air, arms outstretched towards Bee. Some of them registered the words and actions quickly enough, hands extending to grab family members or friends. Others were still registering the words. A few didn't hear them at all. The kitchen staff was consumed in a ball of flame before any of them could react. The windows separating the kitchen and the order pickup station shattering as the heat hit it. A waitress was thrown back from the kitchen door, gone before she even felt the heat.   The explosion washed over the room, scorching tables as it overturned them and turning napkins to ash in a blink. The backdoor to the kitchen was open as a cook took a smoke break. The seemingly pointless action of propping the door open allowing a portion of the explosion a means of exit and relieving some of the pressure that built up. That cook wouldn't live to hear the result of his actions, standing next to the door as it flew open and off its hinges. The front windows and glass door broke next as flames belched onto the sidewalk out front, throwing passing pedestrians to the ground and cutting them with flying glass. The fire followed, exiting out the front and back as it dissapated as quickly as it came, leaving only smoldering patches of burning material in the establishment.   Tick....tick.....tick....tick..tick..tick, tick tick tick. Sound came back slowly for those still alive. The sounds were screams. Screams of pain and names mixed in with the sharp ringing of ears as people tried to push the tables off them and stand. Ash, dust, and red splotches covered the inside of what was once a 4.9 star place to eat for the upper class. Peter felt a pain in his back. The table, overturned and on top of him. Underneath him, his arms having buckled and pinning her under his weight, was Bee. Neither could hear clearly yet, but it was returning. Peter felt the table being lifted off his back as a man, clean of ash so likely someone just walking by, had moved the table off him.  

Bee

Bee had a smile on her face when Peter was talking, trying to be a warm and kind person who was listening to someone's troubles. She didn't even stop to think what was going on. She tilted her head as he stood up, "What are you-" She didn't get any words in as she was tackled to the ground. She didn't even scream. She felt a large pain build in the back of her head, feeling what must have been heat come around her and then leave. She lost her hearing for a second.   Everything went black for several seconds. It felt like a long blind, but when she opened her eyes, things had moved. She couldn't hear still- ringing taking the place that normal sound. would. She felt something-someone on her. She blinked slowly as her brain was still catching up with what had just happened. She felt some of the pressure move off her. She saw light for a second, her brain unable to process anything other then the fact her retinas were receiving stimulus- not yet deciphering it. She didn't feel her body at all. She wasn't in pain- noting that she was probably in shock.   She groaned, closing her eyes, moving her hand to her face and wiping the ash off of her forehead. She smelled burning- it smelled like gas. Her eyes squeezed shut as she took a deep breath in only to start coughing. She felt cold, yet sweaty. She opened her eyes to notice the person on top of her- it was coming back to her. "P-Peter?" She jostled him to see if he was conscious. God, she hoped he wasn't dead  

Gettis

Gettis was blown back by the force of the explosion, but with his biology being as stubborn as he was, he sprung back to his feet to figure out just what the hell happened. The place just goddamn exploded. Like, literally, out of nowhere, ka-fucking-boom. He wasn't really smart enough to know why, but he was smart enough to trust his ears when he heard the screams of other people inside. They needed help.   Without hesitation, Gettis dashed into the open back door and began grabbing survivors, one by one, and setting them on the sidewalk, around 10 feet away. He would have just carried them to a hospital, but he didn't know where one was. And besides, people are heavy. He wasn't sure how long he could carry one. He just had to hope they were alive. The idea of carrying the dead really didn't sit right with him. He hadn't seen someone was dead, before. Either way he piled up anyone that didn't look like overcooked bacon in a pile on the sidewalk, clearing the building out save for two.   As Gettis continued to zip in and out of the restaurant, his body pleaded with him to catch his breath. He'd been holding it while he ran to avoid inhaling any smoke, and his lungs were screaming in protest. But not yet. There were two more people in there, and he couldn't leave them just because he was out of shape. Gettis grits his teeth and grabs Peter first, seeing that he was conscious. Peter would see this ragamuffiny kid, covered in soot and ash, coughing and gasping for breath on his hands and knees next to him before he tried to scramble to his feet. "Help me grab her!"

[Pushing limits, -5 EP]

 

Peter Clifford

Somehow Peter had known it was coming. Yet, knowing is only half the battle. He cursed himself as debris scattered across the room and the fire engulfed everything around him. Peter had closed his eyes then taking the full brunt as he covered the nurse as best as he could to take the damage. Even one person he could save is better than none. It seemed to last ages but yet, at the same time seconds. The blast seeming to defy all logic for the young man who seemed to be getting all to comfortable with near death experiences lately.   His eyes peaked open. As he winced due to the dust and smoke in his eyes. Answering to the ca from the woman beneath him but instead Peter coughed then doing his best to move his mouth away from the lady. It was especially hard as they were pinned together by the table. The evo then tried to lift the table? But a sharp pain in his leg stopped that effective immediately. This caused his to wail out. He breathed in and out trying to compose himself. Looking to Bee and offering what he hoped to be a convicing smile that everything was to be okay. This then transformed into one of shock and then relief as the weight of thr table was removed from him.   His head turned to see, what looked like a drifter, above him. Whatever he was he was a hero. As he grabbed him and with Peters help moved him off Bee. "We need- " cough "get the hell out" Peter tried to take a step but now a sharp pain went from his leg all the way up his back it seemed. He nearly tumbled catching himself with the wall. Seeing the kid look at him Peter waved him off while using the wall as a crutch. "Get the girl out of here. I beg you"  

Bee

She had definitely hit her head hard enough to do some damage when she fell. She couldn't tell if she had hit her head on the edge of the seat when she went down, or this was just from when her head hit the ground. In fact, She was already confused about what happened, as she looked around the area that was filled with smoke. She continued to lay where she was- her body felt sluggish, like it does when you have a cold.   She turned her head to the side, seeing the shoes of what looked like a kid. Getting Peter off her had been a relief. She took a deep breath in- forgetting that there was smoke. She should have remembered, her job was centered around emergencies. But she was a little cloudy.   She moved so she was laying on her side, as she was coughing due the smoke in her lungs. She could hear some loud talking, but it was like her brain wasn't processing it. She heard the sounds- but it might as well have been spoken in another language. Her auditory processing was all out of wack. She squeezed her eyes shut, as the smoke made them burn. There was a tiny bit of blood on the ground from where the back of Bee's head had been on the ground.   Bee was able to pull herself so she was sitting up, sorta. She still had her eyes shut. She could feel herself tearing up as a wave of nausea came over her, thank god she had not just eaten. She had nothing in her stomach as she felt sick. Her arms trembled as they held her up.   She looked up at the kid, she held out her hand- almost begging the child to take it. Her thought process when she say such a young kid in there with her was get him out.   If he chose to touch her hand- or if he made any contact with her at all, he would have felt a surge of energy, as if he had drank several energy drinks in one second. As Bee transferred her energy discreetly, she felt her arm that was holding her up give out, and she crumpled back down, her eyes lidding over. She groaned a bit. God her head hurt.

[Manipulator: Energy Transfer x2 Minor -EP (9/10)]

 

Gettis

Things didn't look too great, but they weren't as bad as they could he. He was hacking and coughing but still in much better shape than the girl or that dude. All the same, Gettis was scared. How was he going to get them out of here when he was bone tired? He felt like a marionette with lead limbs, held aloft by the string that was pure willpower. That is, until, he went to grab for Bee's hand.   Instantly his body was flooded with energy! He felt like he could run back home and circle around before they had time to wonder where he'd been. But right now he had a different destination in mind. Heeding Peter's request, he picked up Bee with some effort and raced her over to where the other patrons were ,and set her gently on the ground at normal speed. She didn't look too good. Probably should be careful.   He then went back for Pete and sped him out of the building before it came down on his head or something. Shit was really fucked up, in there. How the hell did that happen? He'd ask Peter or Bee once they'd recovered. They seemed like some interesting people.  

Peter Clifford

He had to collect himself. Had to rest. Had to heal.   Peter sat down on the floor. Wincing from his injuries as he clutched his side and coughed when he took a deep breath in. His head falling down to stair at the floor beneath him. What in the world had happened?   He needed to train harder. He knew. His senses needed to be quicker. Perhaps if he had-   He cut himself off. Now wasn't the time nor the place. Peter looked to the young lad. Thankful he had been there. "Are they all out, mate? How man-" He cried out in pain as his body started to produce the stem cells required to heal. It hurt. Weirdly hurt. In a way he couldn't explain. He imagined it as if metal could feel when it was being moulded, tempered or welded.

[Normal -3 22/25]

 

Bee

Her head injury still bled as she moved- it wasn't more then a few drops on the ground as she moved, but it was still messing up her blonde hair. She had her eyes closed, as her eyelids were simply too heavy. She probably would have been able to get up, despite the head injury, but she had to go and expend her energy. She really didn't want that kid to pass out- it was worth it. She didn't move as she was sat down.   She did feel the ground underneath her- she sorta hear someone yelling. It was a shock indeed to be moved so fast, if she was awake she would definatley have commented on it, but there wasn't much she could do in her current state. She also felt someone lift her up as she was placed on the concrete. She was visably unrepsonsive as she was picked up- but she was still able to comprehend what was being said around her, as well as feel. She felt someone move her farther away from the building, far enough she couldn't feel the heat of the fire. She wondered what everything looked like. She was once again let down on the ground, she thinks she heard someone call out for a paramedic- which was ironic. She had just gotten off her shift. She wondered if the paramedic at the scene would recognize her, since she had probably passed them as they were going into their shift while she was leaving her shift.   She still appeared non-responsive as the person who had dragged her away had moved to go and help others. She really hoped no one thought she was dead. She was just taking a power-induced nap. Involuntarily.  

Gettis

He surveyed the area, zooming back into the building to look around for stragglers, anyone who seemed like they might survive. He may have seen it in super speed, but the images of barbecued bodies will haunt him for a long, long time. There were no more survivors, and Gettis didn't know if he was saddened at the loss of life, or relieved that he didn't have to carry a broken, charbroiled person to get them help. Help that would mostly likely be too little, too late.   Returning to Peter's side, he got a count of how many survivors there were. He couldn't focus long enough on the bodies without getting sick, so he didn't have a number for the dead. Some of them would have to be identified by their dental records. Gettis told Peter as much while he sat down with his head in his hands, tired in a way that was different than being tired from a run.   Speaking of, that one girl who had touched him and gave him the strength to keep running was now unconscious. She didn't look too good, but he just had to hope she was okay. He needed her to be.  

Peter Clifford

Peter sat up clutching the right side of his chest as he grimaced in pain. Eyes squinted as he seemed to still be struggling to adjust to the scene before him. Noticing the female... her name... Bee? Like the bug? Was now on the floor. Peter momentarily forget his own issues and told the brave boy to see to her. That he would be fine on his own.   The healing took a few minutes until he felts oddly okay. It was something he could never describe to anyone. He wasn't fine, but he was. He hurt, but he also did not. There were some moments of oure agony and yet some of euphoria where Peter felt like the first he had tried magic mushrooms back in his old college dorm with two of his mates.   Peter tried to stand. At first his legs buckled twisting his knee slightly and he had to catch himself with his left arm out stretched. Not a man to give in he willed himself to stand. Through sheer determination he stood taking small steps every now and again as he swayed back and forth, left to right. Eventually he made his way over to the bug and the boy who saved them.  

Storyteller

The fire department the ambulance and the police showed up and started attending to any injured people taking statements and overall just doing their jobs. Soon enough multiple News teams showed up and started reporting. The clean up and everything would take a few hours but it was done effectively and cleanly. The heroes had chances to run away or leave a statement to the police either way.