#cirflood

“You know, this place is definitely not what I imagined it to be. I seriously think my assumptions have been dampened by watching too many episodes of Chicago Fire.” Typical Avery. When he should be more concerned of what was to come, he found a TV Show reference to ease his nerves. “I wonder if they’ll let us test out that fire pole. Or wait--does that mean that I want to become like a stripper, because yeah that’s definitely not something I ever want to happen.”

[ @trashbagransome​ @trippblais​ @lincgrimes​ @traveleravery​ ] 

“Yeah, wow..-- No, okay. That’s definitely not a good idea.” It felt like she’d spoken the same words over and over since closing off the building, too many people intent on their ability to survive all their own. “Look, can you..-- I need help getting as many of the med kits as I can, there’s about a dozen around the place. Just.-- go, take someone with you.” A quick gesture of her hand sent the surprisingly less stubborn kid off towards the few trucks still here before she turned to her new found company, frustration splitting her features as she frowned casting hues across the myriad of faces that flooded her workplace. “We’re going to have to move people upstairs,” though the firehouse was without doubt well enough quipped, there were still too many uncertainties within the parking bay.

In an ironic twist of fate, the fire station was frigid. Roscoe had given away almost all of the supplies he’d had, and the only thing he’d kept for himself was a thermal blanket that barely fit around his solid frame. Still, he clung to it like it would do much of anything, as did everyone else. Some people huddled around candles, others shared blankets, and still others chose to share body heat. Having found a place by the wall to sit by, Roscoe watched everyone with a wary eye (but particularly those goddamn Dragovics), attention only broken when someone seemed as if they were approaching.

There were more than enough people within the tavern capable of being useful, despite the choice to stay here, he wasn’t foolish enough to think it’d last. However, knowing that both pack alpahas were within the building with him didn’t at all shirk his built in need to do something, the automatic instinct of those meant to lead, even if he no longer did.. Zach wasn’t by any means scared or worried about the prospect of death; but drowning didn’t seem like a good way to go, not today. Perhaps that alone, mottled with the uncertainty of where the last remaining members of his own pack were pulled him from his usual place in lingering shadows. “That door isn’t going to hold when the water rises.” The bar wouldn’t hold against flood waters, no on with any wits about them could believe as much, even with the water already slowly trickling in through the sliver of space between the floor and rich mahogany. 

It’s a little water... it’d be gone soon. Like a barely encouraging mantra it circled Caitlyn’s mind as she kept mostly to herself, lingering within eerily cast shadows of flickering light filtered through clouds above. Better to drive herself insane with such a thought than paying mind to the hinted burn at the back of her throat. It was nothing, she could manage. “I’m fine.” Spoken harshly as someone came a little too close for comfort. Blinking, she looked up just in time to witness the confused look on their face, “You didn’t ask..-- you didn’t even say anything. Sorry, I’m just..-- what are we meant to do up here?” Little help to offer, no way out; it left her a little off kilter, uncertain of what she could put her mind to in some mild, passing distraction.

Simon was tapping at his phone screen when it happened - his texts to Ava were no longer going through, and he was becoming frustrated. What if his friend did something bad and lost control? What if he did? The two of them were gas-soaked rags in a fire in their respective shelters. At least speaking to someone with the same problem made him feel less alone, perhaps have a modicum more of vital self control.