jla_watchtower | In San Francisco, things are torrential

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In San Francisco, things are torrential

Jesse Quick has sent out the APB.

But right now, Titans Tower is on fire in half a dozen places, and the torrential storm overhead isn't stopping the fires nearly enough. Lightning sizzles through the sky, and well over a dozen flying figures soar around the Tower, surveilling it and occasionally blasting it with something. Many more are on the ground and in the Tower itself - parts of the Tower explode periodically as the violence escalates.

The Tower is under siege, and the Titans are fighting a losing battle.

But things change, and Weather Wizard turns his head and sees:

Incoming!

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Ibn arrives in the main hall, bloodied, but still standing. Grimly, he notes the destruction and damage to the Tower, but is glad that he doesn't see any bodies. It is a longshot, but he decides to try to com-links again. "This is Ibn Head. Does anyone need help or medical assistance?"

I've secured the seventh floor, or at least what remains of the seventh floor. Flamebird is with me.

Beast Boy, Triad, Superboy, Starfire, Robin, Donna Troy and Nightstar were all on premises when the attack began, and I'm not getting any talkback yet.

Arsenal... um, ground level, I think... not sure at... 've been shot. Where are the kids?

I'll do a sweep for them, Mr. Harper. Mr. Head, find Mr. Harper on the first floor immediately and get him to the medlab on seven, which I have kept largely untouched with my forcefield technology. If you need further assistance page me.

He flies to his lab, grabs a sensor sweeper, and starts soaring through the Tower looking for life signs.

Travis is on the rooftop, or what's left of it. Conscious, but trying to catch his breath after the meteor strike.
For any kind of checking in, not hard to tell he has at least a broken arm, hard to say what else.

"En route now..."

"I'm on my way."

Ibn was already close to the main hall, so he arrives fairly quickly. He scans the area to make sure one of their enemies isn't preparing a trap and then kneels beside Arsenal.

He uses his cloak to apply pressure to the wound. "Arsenal, can you hear me?"

Nightwing arrives shortly afterwards, looking the worse for wear. Rainbow colored paint slides off him as the sprinklers rain down, slowly turning the fires to smouldering remains. The place is a mess.

Dammit. Anyone found Lian yet?

"Yes on one count, no on the other."

Back against the wall, Roy holds the cloak against the wounds and pushes himself upright. "She'd be with Donna." His face darkens as he casts his gaze in Dick's direction. "Unless Slade thought it'd be funny to spring my ex, and in this mess we might not know for hours. We need to move, right now."

Slade. Should have guessed. He returns the look with an incredulous stare.

Cheshire's here? At the Tower?

Jesus, talk about being out of the loop. He makes a mental note to fix that later.

Son of a --

He heads off at a run, not waiting for the others to follow.

"Brainaic 5 is scanning for her now. Once we've secured Arsenal, I can try an alternative method of looking for her."

Ibn doesn't point out that he needs blood for that ritual. There's plenty of Arsenal blood on his hands at the moment.

Which is good, because he's bleed through most of what Tara has applied. "Thanks for the help. Bleeding from both the femoral and bracial arteries. Might have nicked the Hepatic..."

Ibn nods. He isn't familar with this woman. "Level Seven has medical facilities. We can help him more there. I don't suppose you have a way to carry him without moving him?"

Roy's really not sure what any of that meant, but he does know 'bleeding' and 'arteries' are usually two words that shouldn't go together. And then there's that whole 'without moving him'. Riiight.

"No, you don't understand, we need to find Lian. Chesh is in the Tower." He stifles the groan of pain as he stands up a little straighter. The world's kind of spinny. Unwillingly, he decides maybe the wall's a better place to be. "Okay, maybe we can make a stop. A really quick stop. Just t'be on the safe side."

"Lian will be safe. Once you have recieved the proper medical attention, we can go find her together. There are mystical means available to me that as along as you are with me, there is no place in the world that we can't find her. But that is ONLY if you survive, which might be in doubt if you fight us. Nightwing is looking for her now."

"I have superstrength, but I can't immobilize him. If we could flag the Lantern or have some mage or something put some sort of personal shield around him, I can carry." She favors the new guy with a humorless smile as she's ripping into her clothing now to make more pressure bandages. "Hi, Tara. Med student from Ollie's. Nice to meet you."

Then Arsenal give the sitrep and somedays, there just are not enough swear words.

"You mean the kid's mother, right? Don't worry, we'll get there." There meaning the med facilities at the monet. She only hopes his girlfriend can hold off the ex. Remind me to update my scorecard... Thinking about the worst will only slow them all down.

"Nightwing will take care of her."

Ibn's fairly confident about that. "Let's take him to med bay. You carry, I'll apply pressure."

It should be noted that his face is also bloody and has been in a fight as well.

Yeah, but it's surface stuff. At least it looks like it. That will keep. For now, it's time to haul people to safety. And if there isn't safety, become a shield.

"This might sting," she quips as he puts Arsenal in a fireman's carry.

Sting? Sting? Try 'gut wrenching pain'. He grits his teeth through it, though, and doesn't complain... much.

"Been a while since I've been bruised and hangin' over the shoulders of a strong, young thing. Don' worry... I won't tell Donna if you won't," he says, trying to smile.

"I'm immune to your charms," she jokes as she starts running through the warzone. "I work with your dad."

Pain.

"I could argue... that there's a... distinction in quality, there. But, that would take a serious effort of concentration..."

At which point his head flops over.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck...

Duck and gently roll him off the shoulders. Feel for breathing, because if there's breathing, there's a pulse. Check for poison darts from the ex, since they tell stories about that sort of thing back at the homestead.

Okay...he's just out. Probably for the better. She moves him back onto her shoulders and starts a dead run. Next stop somewhere protected to patch the redhead up and to try and find out about the munchkin.

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In San Francisco, things are torrential

Ibn Tries the Comlink...

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