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{I apologize for ruining the post count, as I accidentally clicked submit prematurely before finishing my entry post; due to my mouse falling. So I just deleted the post.. }

Monet had been down one of the many aisles that were lined with towering buildings when the devastating event happened. He'd been visiting his ex-guardians, as well as the employee's that worked at the firm. The humans were always so delightful and nice to him. After all, he'd been an appealing attraction for business as a regular Pokemon. His main reason for visiting was to inform his once human caretakers of the organization he'd signed up for. They showed both pride, yet concern for the Milotic, instructing him to keep his wits about him, and not to get too deep if it seemed fishy. Assuring the two that he had everything under control, giving a parting kiss to each of their cheeks, he began to head off. Ah, but the misses followed after him, informing the aquatic beauty that she had some free time before heading off to her own job. Thus, the two decided that getting a bite to eat sounded mighty fine.

Just as they stepped out though... the tremor shook the ground and everything around them with great vigor. Without a thought, Monet wrapped his tail around the much smaller human female, his arms doing the same to keep her stable and safe from.. what ever was happening! It felt like an Earthquake! Gritting his teeth, he narrowed his eyes. Was this the work of some irresponsible Pokemon letting his power get the best of him? Monet wouldn't be all too surprised... but the sound of breaking... folding, heavy groaning and the all too distinct of a collapsing structure rung in the air. The screams of those who were near the Poke Center joined in the symphony of horror. People were running down the street that he was on, fleeing the scene, while others started to peek out from the surrounding buildings to see what was going on. It was hard to tell from here, but the debris started to billow out in a light cloud along the grounds down the wide corridors.
It didn't take Monet long to act. Looking to his human friend, he instructed her to stay here, not at all wanting her getting tied up into this clearly unsafe business. With that, he hustled down the street, weaving around those who were going the opposite way, his height giving him quite an advantage.

The sight was ghastly... a small crowd was gathered to look upon the fallen center that was now a heap of rubble, clear disbelief, and shock etched on various faces. Monet wanted to know how this had happened, darting his seafoam green eyes about, head jerking this way and that as well, causing his numerous earrings to jingle eagerly. But there didn't seem to be a Pokemon in sight that had such capabilities...
Instead his eyes returned to a figure that emerged. Oh.. that crazy Banette. A frown had creased, but lifted at the mans words. People were still in there?! Cursing under his breath, Monet approached closer, looking along the disaster with clear distress. He wasn't strong, that was for sure. He had a lean swimmers body. And his attacks... well they would be far too dangerous to use directly...

Feeling a bit hopeless, and helpless, he looked around for an able body that might be able to assist. The least he could do was weaken the rubble with his water... or! Directing his attention once more to the scene, an idea came to him. There were people in there... so he couldn't flat out fire off a Hydro Pump, he had to be careful about this... lifting his arms, he allowed water to fill out on the ground instead, beneath a beginning pile of stone. With great care, he lifted the heavy material with streams of water, like a fountain, and directed them away from the massive heap. It would be slow and tedious, but it was the best he could do given the situation.

Sleeping in the pokemon center again had been a bad choice in retrospect. The bench was just a hair short and it was far too uncomfortable. Not to mention some pokemon had been snoring in the back so loudly Kujo was sure no one had gotten to sleep. His guess as the the snoring culprit was the fat swablu he saw. mostly as the other pokemon in the back were just as grumpy as he was and all eyes were at the swablu. Nurse Joy however just waved it off with a smile.

Oddlu, Nurse Joy's dismissal didn't upset him. Normally he'd have gotten fussy, but, the woman calmed not just him but all the pokemon in the center with a rathe delicious breakfast. Apparently, his helping the night before with cleaning was much appreciated. Kujo's morning also brightened in the fact that his wallet had turned up. Missing cash, but his cards, ID, all else was intact. Officer Jenny seemed miffed at him for loosing it and making her have deliver it however and he got a light admonishment for that. Not his fault the roads were 'dangerous'. If anything she should stop fussing. Still, his wallet was back in his possession, along with cash that had been wired to him.

This turn of events gave Kujo the opportunity to repay those from the day before, going to the shops to purchase his food, thank them for their kindness. A few shops declined, other accepted. More declines than acceptances. One shop accused him of stealing the money however, making the mightyena balk. The man behind the counter was different from the one the day before, his grey hair sticking up at odd ends. The other day it had been a young man. Still, the one he was faced with slung accusations left and right and dejected, Kujo left the store, hoping that he'd run into the much kinder worker at a later time to thank them properly.

His clothes needed changing and aside from renting a quick room, he'd gotten a new set of clothes. Neat and clean, he needed to use the day to get a job. Or better yet, use the day to get a job and start work. Some places wanted to have a nasty little day wait until after they interviewed him before he could work. And when he needed cash, a day could mean the difference between going hungry or having money to ferret away. Kujo had a nice nest egg for a reason. One being if he got robbed, (which had happened). Another was that if he or his trainer had an emergency they could afford it.

He'd never tell her he saved money for such an event, but even when he'd traveled with her, he worried. Wild pokemon, rough and tumble trainers. He remembered sleeping by her side, only to wake up to a wild pokemon nearby, eyes glowing in the moonlight, hungry or... Kujo shook such thoughts out. He worried. The world of a trainer was not all glamorous and it was very much full of risk. She broke her arm once when she fell down a cliff hadn't she? That night he hardly slept at all.

It was in the past and she was much older now and he might not be with her but he worried, he always would fret. She was HIS trainer after all. Kujo would love her in his own way and wanted to protect her. Since he was no longer by her side he had to think of other ways. Ways that were not so direct. A nest egg? That was really just a small simple way to provide help for her if she needed it. Or as this happened, helping himself.

Walking down the street to the same area he'd been the day before, a torn dirty flyer crumpled under his shoe. The hubbub was over, and both parties seemed to have gone home. No one in hoods and robes, no one passing out pamphlets. It was quite, but the hair on the back of his neck still stood on end really. It was nice to see that the group had gone on their way really. No muss, no fuss, no fights. But- The ground shook, and screams echoed in the air.

Following the sound of panic, he realized what direction he was headed, a sudden dread filling him. He hoped he was wrong. He'd been there just that morning! He didn't think- A rock fell into his just as red eyes took in the wreckage. The pokemon center was gone. Just gone. A heap of rubble and debris. Screams and cries as people looked around, some rushing up to help. This was bad, how many were trapped? How many were alive? Kujo thought to that morning, to the pokemon healing in the back, to the trainers who waited anxiously in the lobby, waiting for their partners-

Dread welled up. He couldn't stand around and do nothing. He owed it to Nurse Joy, to the pokemon who he'd met, however briefly, to help. He'd slept there for free, an act of needless charity. They had fed him for free, an act of needless kindness. Pokemon centers were the last places anyone would want anything bad to happen. Much less, things that damaged the center damaged everyone. Pokemon and human alike. You didn't need a trainer to take you in and help you heal after all, a pokemon center took all types.

The barking orders of a familiar face made Kujo jump from his spot in the crowd. Iason? The banette's presence was a bit of a start. He was one of the last types of people Kujo would have expected to see at a pokemon center. But he was right, there was no time to waste. People and pokemon were trapped, and the longer no action was taken the worse the situation might become. A growl erupted from his chest as he went to the pile of growing debris, hands digging into the broken structure.

"Iason!" He barked out. "Do you know how many are trapped?"
If they had a number, they would be able to figure out a rough estimate of how many to expect. They might also be able to figure out where to focus their efforts. With time against them, the more they know about potential survivors, the better. They might also know about potential victims as well, though Kujo prayed that number simply would not exist at all.

As soon as Ruadhrí felt the explosion, he was running, his hand on the hilt of his sword again. He ran as quickly as his lean legs would allow, the armour strapped firmly to his body and thus rubbing minimal places raw. Every step he took jarred his body. What had happened? With all the turmoil in the city, Rua was rushing straight in. And he ran there just in time to see Muirín trying to get up to the second floor to search the levelled building.

Why was there a levelled building? He saw the trouble-making Banette, heard him call out his instruction. There were others trapped inside?! His eyes widened. He wanted to watch out for Mui, but he needed to help-- Especially since it seemed like Monet would be slow going with the water technique. Rua called out to Iason: "Is there anyone to care for the injured?" He certainly couldn't, so even if he could help dig everyone out of the rubble, he'd never know what to do with them once they were out. He could tend to his own wounds roughly, but even then... rudimentary at best.

Rua stretched his arms out and began to systematically remove the top debris, whatever he could move, his muscles flexing. He was lean, sure, but this was what he was good at: physical work, motivated by heroism. He would help save those people, and that drive made him move quite fast, despite the exertion. Before really setting into it, he looked up for Mui and yelled out to where he thought he might be: "Careful now, Princeling!" That done, he afforded it no more thought; Mui was energetic and determined, Rua was certain he would take care of himself. He had to tell himself that, so that he wouldn't be worrying constantly about his friend. Despite their disagreement the day before, he hardly held it against the young man.

After a while of digging the rubble away, Rua was starting to get a little dizzy. After all, he hadn't eaten in a while, even if he'd been drinking ample water all day. Normally he did odd jobs around the city to earn money and thus food, but given the city's general state of turmoil, he hadn't been able to get anything with the new controversy resurging. Even if he had technically joined the pro-harmony side. Rua paused for a moment to breathe, a pile of stones neatly against the building behind him-- what if the weight of the rubble started to shift? He was working around a collapsed beam carefully, trying to dig towards what he saw as a pocket under the building. However, as he worked, he nearly slipped on some of the water Monet was using. "Excuse me, Monet... watch where that goes, you know? It's dangerous for anyone working to dig them out," he said, gesturing to the puddles. "Can you heal, or help survivors? I'm certain more than a few of them could use something to drink, or some first aid," Rua suggested, dipping his fingers into some of the dusty water and using it to cool his forehead a little. His red hair was matted with sweat against his forehead, and his armour was scuffed.

As he returned to digging within the pile to what he assumed was a pocket potentially containing a survivor, he heard a grunt from within the darkness, and a hand grabbed onto his wrist. "I found someone!" he called out. He nearly added in alive... and realized how morbid that was. To have to indicate whether the individual he had found was alive or dead. Most likely mortally wounded, regardless.

--------------------------------

The scent of honey lingered around white blossoms. Hawthorne lay amongst them, a blissful smile on his face. It was just like the place he had lived when he was young, the crumbling ruins of a shrine which had offered food and shelter for so long, if a bit lonely. He didn't know how long he lay there, because it was so perfect, so peaceful, that he never wanted to move. Nothing mattered at that moment. One of the flowers, however, seemed to smell like rotting meat all of a sudden... as he rolled over to try to find the flower, he realized that they were all made of bone, and no matter how much he searched, he couldn't figure out where the smell was coming from. The flowers crumbled to ash beneath his fumbling fingers, and a fire started at the far side of the meadow, spreading rapidly towards him. What was going on?... He stood up, or tried to, and that was when the searing pain shot through his arm and chest.

Which woke him up. His memories returned to him slowly, as did his senses, but they returned in no particular order: Dust particles stung his eyes in the gloom, though light filtered in through a hole in the debris above him. He was lying under a beam, which was thankfully supporting much of the collapsed rubble, but a chunk had fallen onto his chest. He could hardly breathe. When he did, he started to cough, something warm and wet spotting his lips.

Hawthorne felt himself become frantic, his eyes darting back and forth, the pain of being crushed slowly was immense. At least the way it had fallen distributed pressure evenly on all sides, so he didn't think anything was crushed beyond repair. He hoped. Once he convinced himself to calm down, Hawthorne tested his legs by flexing one foot, then the other. Both fine. Moving them provided minimal pain, which he suspected had little to do with his legs, and more to do with the fact that there was a large piece of building crushing his chest and left shoulder.

He had been inside the building with the other usurpers when it had collapsed. How? He wasn't sure. But one way or another, this was where he'd thrown his lot in. He smiled to himself in the dark for a moment, before coughing up more of whatever it was that was in his lungs. Okay. He needed to get himself unpinned. For all he knew, there was no one coming, and no one had survived. His ability had no effect in this situation: even if he could appear as a steelix, it was only ever illusory. Which was a shame, because he could really use the extra strength at that moment.

All he had was flexibility and circus tricks. Hawthorne tried to pry the debris away with his free hand, to no avail. All that did was cause more pain. He did, however, manage to use his right hand to bend his right leg in a way that his foot was under the stone, using his leg muscles to rock the building chunk off his chest. As soon as it was free, the pain increased tenfold. He couldn't even check if he was injured worse than he thought, because at that moment, he started a coughing fit, before groaning in pain. He really, really wanted a bath. His hair tie had broken, hair tumbling down around his face.

At that point, a hand wearing some kind of armour shot into view, as whoever it was was digging through the rubble. Hawthorne grabbed hold of it, for all he was worth. "Get me out of here," he mumbled through slick lips. He spat into the dirt and wheezed. His arm hurt intensely, but he flexed his fingers to check: they all worked, so his arm must not be broken. However, as the stranger dug him out and helped him out of the hole, he realized that he had been sliced up by some shattered glass which he'd fallen onto: his clothing on his back was in tatters, his back a mess of blood, glass and dirt.

Once out into the light, supported by the red-head, Hawthorne looked around with sore eyes. He spotted Iason and broke free of Rua's grasp to take a few steps towards the Banette before nearly falling. He caught himself with one hand, crouching on the ground, his tail limp and dragging, ears flat down. He wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of one hand, staying extremely still, trying to breathe as minimally as possible. "What happened, Iason?" he asked the man who was effectively his leader, trying to gather his thoughts. He could barely move for all the pain he was in.

---------------------------------

Rua watched the dark-haired Zorua stumble away from him, towards Iason with a grimace. Even if the man had led the other to this fate, he would still seek answers from the banette? With a resurgence of anger, Rua focused his energy on the building again, for any other survivors. He looked towards the porygon who he had seen but not really interacted with, and approached close enough to thank the porygon for his efforts making the rubble easier to sift through.

Back to the heavy lifting, his stomach churning. In his head, he planned his inevitable escape into a side alley should he feel the need to vomit from hunger and over-exertion. He wasn't very good at figuring out when enough was enough.

It was amazing how quickly others started to draw to the scene, but very much assuring. The more that came, the better chances of getting all of those trapped inside the heap of building! Monet was intently focused on pushing out loose pieces by manipulating the water, making them pop out and roll away from the area, providing more and more clearance to the lower level of the collapsed building. He did glance to the side, however, as that Goldeen boy from before made himself known. A smooth brow rose with confusion, but he didn't give really any thought to it. Seemed like the guy was going to help out with the cause!

The chunks that were thoroughly moist started to shift more, causing many that were locked in place to give way and add into those that were being expelled. He made sure to keep in one designated area, and kept an alert eye for any signs of a body. At such a close proximity, that wouldn't be a problem. His efforts were made easier once a Porygon showed up. There was a visible line surrounding the ruble, and the loose chunks were popping out much easier. Sparing a glance over, he gave an appreciative look to the guy.. but didn't have much time to do anything else. His gaze darted to Rua as he was acknowledged, raising a brow once more. He was digging. Just not physically. With a small smirk, he let his attention return to his task at hand, "I'm fine here, thank you, honey~" he chimed. Wasn't really much he could do healing wise. He had this under control, after all he'd been working and wielding water since.. forever!

Besides, by now he'd tunneled out a good portion of the spot he'd been working on. Letting his hands lower, he approached the particular designated area to inspect. Kneeling, he cursed under his breath. He could see into the center of what still remained upright within, but... he was too tall to fit! Standing back up, he gave a heavy sigh, glancing around for some-- Ah~ Instantly, his eyes were on Cian. Yes, he remembered him from the other day. They'd only met eyes, but... Monet could tell the Dragonair liked what he saw. Grinning lightly, he casually strolled over to him, watching the valiant effort made to peel away the pieces of building, "Nice of you to join us~" he playfully teased to the dragon, aiding in plucking up some of the smaller chunks to push away with the help of the psychic powers, "Would you mind helping me over here?" he asked sweetly, gesturing with his tail to the spot he'd been carving at. Already having it in his mind that Cian would HAVE to comply, he headed back to it, glancing up as he heard Rua's voice.

"Good! Get them outta there then~" he called back encouragingly, starting on prying the soggy bits of structure from their place. It was much easier this way!

@Vamps, Face, Vit

The earthquake the shook the city had sent Rory nearly sprawling onto the sidewalk. He'd watched, horrified as the ground practically rolled from the shock waves of the impact. He hadn't been expecting the ground to keep shaking and shaking though. He didn't know how long he'd clung to the light pole for dear life, all he knew was that when the quaking finally stopped he was shaking with nerves. What he had expected to see when he opened his eyes was NOT the sight of the Pokemon Center in the distance collapsing. Rory saw the giant pokeball on the top disappear behind taller buildings as it went down. The cloud of dust the followed had his stomach churning.

Rory was in a daze as he ran back to the hotel he'd been staying at, only coming to his senses when he realized that he was shoving as many supplies as he could into his satchel. The cleffa charm jingle much too merrily from its place on the strap every time Rory put another thing into his bag. He didn't even know what the heck he was grabbing, but water bottles from the hotel room and his pastries from the day before were among some of the things he'd pick up. Oh, he wished he was back home! At least at his bakery he had ample water and medical supplies. He doubted his small emergency kit would be any help.

At any rate, Rory was out the revolving doors of the hotel in a wink and dashing up the street. His bag was heavy, bumping against his hip every time his feet it the pavement. He knew he needed to be calm, but as he gasped for breath, all he could think about where the pokemon and people who had more than likely gotten hurt in the collapse. A certain pokemon came to mind as well and Rory hoped Kujo was okay. He knew the mightyena's need of the Pokemon Center and wished he'd just invited the male back with him the other day. Stupid him had been too selfish to even think about it. Angrily, the cleffa shook the thoughts from his head. No, everyone, including Kujo, had to be alright. They just had too!

A few blocks later and clutching a stitch in his side, Rory was relieved to find that many of the pokemon from the other day had gathered to help. His eyes scanned only for the ones he knew though. He danced over the dragonaire that had just flown in as well as the goldeen and shedinja before he finally found the bushy tails he was looking for. Practically sagging when he saw Kujo beside a battered looking Iaason and Hawthorne, Rory quickly jogged over to them.

"Kujo!" Rory cried, greeting the canine first with a big hug and affectionate nuzzle, much like the one Kujo had given him the day before. The cleffa made sure to keep his touch gentle though, unsure if Kujo was hurt or not. "Are you alright? What in the name of Mew happened?" Rory turned to face Hawthorne and Iason, his face full of open concern for the other two pokemon who were obviously very much hurt. Had they been inside the center when it had collapsed? Nearly moaning at the thought, Rory shrugged off his satchel and let it thunk to the ground, crouching down beside Hawthorne.

"Just please, please sit Hawthorne," Rory urged, his hands fluttering over Hawthorne, not sure where to touch him. "You too Iason, you need to." He dug around inside of his bag, pulling free two miniature bottles of water and setting them on the ground. Next came the emergency medical kit, the thing looking puny even to Rory in the face of everything.

"I can help move some of the rubble. I have enough psychic ability for that I think," he added, sounding frazzled, merely talking to calm himself down as he clicked open the kit. Nothing but band aids, a bit of gauze, and some disinfectant spray were inside. "Not much here unfortunately. I can disinfect your wounds for you, Hawthorne. You need a hospital though." Rory gnawed his lip, wondering if the human hospitals took their kind.

(( OOC: Ah, god, sorry if I missed directly interacting with any of you. Tags to... A ton of you LOL. I didn't want to let this get much bigger. ))

As soon as he felt the tremors begin, he was running. He shoved past people without a second thought, his legs carrying him as quickly as he could manage. Years of constant training, of honing his body into peak condition, was the only thing that permitted him to maintain his speed as he bolted in the direction that he'd pinpointed as the source of the explosion; for once since entering the city he was thankful for his superior hearing.

When he arrived he shoved through the crowd of stunned and panicked bystanders, growling at any that decided to get testy with him as he advanced. However when he finally got through the sea of humans, Pokemon, and gijinkas alike he snarled a little at the back of the purple crowned head that was now visible. Continuing forward he moved to stand before the Banette, crimson eyes narrowed and lips curled in an angry snarl.

"You--" he began, hands clenching into fists at his side.

"Phantasm if you don't get out of my way I'm going to throw you into a building." Iason snapped, his eyes narrow and full of fury, all of it directed at the albino Mightyena before him. "Your stupid accusations can wait until I've gotten my people out of this."

Phantasm's eyes widened a little before narrowing again. "You mean you didn't--"

"No. I damn well didn't. Now either start helping or get the hell out of my way."

They stared at each other for a long moment, a tense silence falling between them before Phantasm gave a curt nod, spinning on his heel and moving towards the wreckage. With a snort the Banette's eyes glowed again, hand reaching out as he directed his psychic ability, moving another piece of the wreckage up, then out of the way. Other gijinkas were yelling at him, attempting to make this as organized as possible, but his mind wasn't there, his mind was on the people that had most likely been killed in the blast.

"HEY, FISH BOY!" he called at the Goldeen that was scaling the building "Tread lightly! The upper level isn't going to be stable!"

His eyes slid to the Mightyena that had questioned him the day before, rolling his eyes a little at the demand as he lifted another piece of rubble, tossing it aside. Phantasm was making good progress, using his strength to heave heavy pieces of wall and steel out of the way. However he sudden paused and his head bowed a little, causing Iason's gut to tighten; one dead already.

"I didn't exactly take inventory of everyone inside the building!" he snapped, his anger mostly self directed; he should have known... "I didn't take inventory of healers either! Anyone that can heal need to get their asses up here to take care of the injured!"

His eyes moved back to Phantasm, watch the Mightyena pull out a cloaked body from the wreckage, one covered in blood. He recognized the dark purple hair immediately as that of his Gengar lieutenant and clenched his eyes shut for a moment before moving back to moving debris. However when the Shedinja found someone, looking relieved before glancing back at the gathered crowd.

"Anyone that's a healer, go help him!" his eyes then turned to the new arrivals, the second Mightyena from the day before as well as the Cleffa, giving a stiff shake of his head at the later's insistence that he needed to rest. "No. I won't rest until this is done."

Despite his words he could feel blood oozing down his side, causing his sweatshirt to cling to it, staining it. However he didn't stop, eyes narrowed with determination as he continued to move the rubble out of the way, exposing more of the devastation inside; the top of it had collapsed downward, most likely killing everyone in the basement level. With a quick shake of his head he looked at his dead lieutenant, rage coiling in his gut; he was going to kill the b***h that did this.

"Iason!" Phantasm called from the rubble as he drug a massive form free, looking hopeful. "I found another one of your men! He's alive! Looks like he's mostly unharmed, just unconscious!"

Iason practically lit up, smiling a little at that; that Charizard was a lucky son of a b***h. "That means more may have survived!"

[[OOC: Tags to Honey, really o 3o]]

What Hawthorne thought was a question, actually game out a mumbled and incomprehensible phrase through his still bloodied lips. At first, he couldn't perceive what was happening around him: he couldn't see the individuals above or around, couldn't hear the heaving or the groaning steel as others shifted debris, couldn't feel the ground under him. He was barely there, half-locked in his own pain, the rest of him stuck in the remnants of his dream filled with bone ash flowers and the smell of burnt flesh.

Rory's voice snapped him out of it. He saw the Cleffa kneel next to him, heard his voice as he asked him to sit. At first, in shock, Hawthorne obliged. He collapsed the rest of the way onto the ground, and winced as a shard dug in somewhere tender. He didn't dare try to reach back to dislodge it. He looked back at Rory and grinned through his wicked-awful pain. He tried to talk, but his voice was hoarse. After the first attempt, he borrowed one of the small bottles of water and unscrewed the lid with his good right hand, popping it off with his thumb and taking several long gulps.

"Why would I need a hospital, little baker?" he asked, for once not calling Rory a pipsqueak. Even if Hawthorne found the small pink creature irritating, it was somehow comforting to have a face he recognized nearby. Still, he wasn't about to lay around vulnerable. He didn't know where his red thread had gone, but he didn't need it-- it was a thing of convenience, not necessity. Hawthorne concentrated his ability and put up a new illusory form: back to the Clefairy form he'd used yesterday, his unbound dark hair replaced by short pink hair with a curl against his forehead. He pushed himself up from the ground, smiling at the Cleffa.

He started to head towards the debris, as if he would get far. He ended up leaning on one of the more stable beams, trying to look casual. "What are you waiting for, Rory? If you can move the rubble, be my guest; I'll lend you moral support," Hawthorne said, with a wink. Even if his illusory form kept the blood from showing on his body, the beam he leaned on quickly became saturated. The only reason he was standing at all was he'd hooked his elbow onto one of the jutting edges of the beam to support his weight.

Looked like he wouldn't have to give Rory moral support for very long, though; some bright-haired young goldeen was trying to carry something much too large for his lithe frame, and had called Rory to his aid. "Oh, nevermind, looks like you've got a job, pipsqueak," Hawthorne added, with a grin. Sweet heaven above my back hurts, he thought to himself. He silently hoped Rory would hurry up and get distracted, so he could make his escape into the alley and try to pick the shards of glass out of his back. Or pass out. You know, one or the other.


[[OOC: Tags to Musi, Honey, Ruriska; brief mention for Chrys o 3o]]

Rua tried not to arch a brow at Monet; he was pretty sure if he did, he would be sick just from the sheer effort of changing his facial expression. The milotic seemed to misunderstand him. He wasn't trying to be considerate, he was concerned that the others involved in the rescue effort would slip on the water with that heavy debris, or that he would tap into an exposed electrical circuit. Rua didn't know much about water types, but he figured they would be just as upset about getting shocked as he as a bug type would be.

Rua tried not to hit his halo or his jutting wing-like fixture on the debris as he continued to dig. However, rapidly he realized that no one was really caring for the injured; Rua was far from a healer, but... he could do more good trying to offer assistance to the injured than he could digging, it seemed. Manoevering around Cian to get away from the scene, Rua started to knock on doors in the area, asking for blankets, water, bandages; anything they could spare. If he was lucky, maybe he could even find someone who had healing abilities.

Arms full of such goodies, he walked back over to the site and lay some of the blankets down, along with the other supplies. He took a sip of the water himself to steady his stomach and calm himself, dabbing at his face with a cool cloth. He noticed that the Cleffa had produced a small kit of medical supplies, and so he approached the young man. "Can I borrow that?" he asked, gesturing to the kit. His hand shook as he asked. He was drenched with sweat and debris dust, not exactly a picture of elegance.

Hearing Shinrei call out, Rua responded with a call of his own: "Put them on the blankets for now? We can treat them there until the actual medical professionals arrive!" Rua pointed to the blankets he'd laid out with some odds and ends that might help them. Really, he'd had to rely on any generosity of those nearby... which hadn't been a whole lot, honestly, given his frightening appearance.

He heard Mui's voice from the ruined building, and at first he feared the worst: he was happy to note, however, that it was merely his princeling had taken on a load too large for his muscles. Rua picked up the pace, tackling the ruined beams and stones carefully as he could while still rushing in like usual. "Lean him here," Rua said, shrugging down to help carry most of the weight for Mui.