#post later

So, what does Jon do? He catches it. Only it is not an it that he caught but a she. And she is dripping green all over. And boy does the green sure looks like its blood with all the gashes it was oosing out of.

Jon panics and does the only thing he can think of.

"DAD!"

Superman appears beside him near insantly.

"Jon, what's-"

He stops mid question as he spots the girl in his arms.

Blade/Nick, humanized, another random AU

-

He had a good feeling about the applicant. Something about the way they signed their name - an odd detail for a person to notice in the first place - gave him a ray of hope. He wasn't choppy and uneven like all these young guys, who didn't know the first thing about handwriting. No, this applicant had his name out in cursive. Nice cursive, even. The big swirls gave it a little extra flare to boot.

He hadn't even met the man, but something told him he would be a good fit. Maru seemed to think highly of him too, after their chat.

"Sounds like all the fun of a Smokejumper without the brute of one." He chuckled - after hearing Drip shout across the tarmac.

"But he's not going to be a Smokejumper. He's a pilot." Blade had read his papers carefully. In all fairness it was one of the thickest resumes out of the pack.

"And one of your own, if I'm not mistaken." Maru added. Blade nodded his suspicions. "Shouldnt have too much of a problem finding a place to keep the chopper. Although fitting it to a firefighting team might be a little...tricky."

"I was thinking about that," Blade said, turning to look at Maru fully. He'd had his eyes on the papers since he'd walked over here. "His helicopter isn't much for a water tanker, but he would be an excellent spotter and rescue craft."

"Light little thing, idn't it?"

"Mhm." Blade thumbed through the pages until they came to it: a grainy printout of the ride their trainee was working with. She was an older model, been through the ringer a few times for sure, but everything was in fine condition by Maru's standards. As worn in as it was, it was clear its owner paid it great care. The cockpit was even fitted with custom seats.

It should figure; the pilot had a lengthy history in the show biz.

Blade readjusted the pages in his hands, tapping it onto the counter of Maru's garage to keep them even.

"I have a good feeling about him." He said. Maru chuckled,

"High praise in your book."

-

The quiet drumming of a nearby helicopter began to fade in over the mountains. Blade lifted his head from his desk, already aware who it may be. Helicopters - especially of that kind of size and sound - were far from uncommon near the Lodge, but rarely would they wander this far back into the park. Even the tours didn't go this far back.

The rest of his team was already parked outside, waiting.

They stood together outside of Maru's garage, some starting their walk towards the helipad just as the little chopper touched down over it. Five rotors began to spool down with their engine as the skids of the aircraft settled onto the concrete. Blade took care to move his larger chopper into the adjoining hangar; they'd find easy room for this one there, too. It looked easy to do.

The fire chief and his lieutenant squinted into the sun as the trainee climbed out of the front. Under a pair of thick headphones was an equally thick head of slightly silvered hair, curly and unkept like the rotorwash was his morning brush.

"Lopez?" Silus asked, extending his hand - and finding he was a significant amount taller than the man. But he brushed it off with a laugh, taking the second in command's hand firmly and introducing himself.

When he turned to take Blade's, their eyes locked solidly together.

"Ranger," they said, after the pause in time, "heard a lot of good things about you! Looking forward to working with ya."

"Same to you." he said, "Please, call me Blade."

"Nick." He replied, smiling and arching a brow. "Blade huh? Got yourself one of those cool nicknames?"

Blade smiled, "somethin' like that, yeah."

The walk back was mostly back and forth between the three of them about their aircraft, comparing power to size and fuel consumption to turning ability. Nick definitely had both of them beat in all but the first.

Meeting the rest of the team was smooth sailing. Nick seemed to settle with the crowd easy, despite his limited range of knowledge. Blade was even shocked to see a warm welcome out of the veteran. They got straight to the nitty gritties - a rundown of the facilities, paperwork, a medical run-down (and a chance for Nick to show off some wicked scars along his torso), another pile of paperwork, and finally a team meeting over dinner.

Nick went with everything swimmingly. It almost intimidated Blade, if it hadn't interested him further. Nick was around his age, just a few years younger, and they hit up a lot of the same interests. Acting was something the older male always wanted to get back into, but never had past high school and college level plays. But then there was music taste, morals, even childhood wounds, and they kept finding things to find out and learn about each other.

Across the table, he sat watching him back, staring up dreamily in half lidded brown eyes. Blade was almost flush, like some high schooler. But he was far from wanting to ask it to stop.

— I imagine Bruno can physically do about three, maybe even four visions in a day, but if he does more than that it starts to take a toll on him and he can get headaches or even pass out if he really pushes things. Because these headaches are magic-produced, Julieta's gift doesn't completely take the pain away, but her cooking does take the edge off. When this has happened in the past, Bruno has had to just take it easy and wait for his headaches to ease up or else sleep them off. Aside from his physical threshold, Bruno's visions can also be very emotionally taxing depending on what he sees. So if a vision is particularly draining he may have to tap out earlier. Another idea: if Bruno were in the middle of having a vision and someone forcibly removed him from the middle of his vision-circle without him formally closing the vision first, extreme paint would explode in his head and he would almost immediately pass out from it (the sand swirled up in the vision would magically explode in every direction as well).

— When the town was helping the Madrigals rebuild their house, people made food for them for every meal (because they care about them!) That first evening after the house fell, the whole town had a sort of picnic dinner outside together among all the supplies they had out to rebuild the casita. Everyone was talking and actually having a lovely time bonding as a community.