6367/Conflagration

Conflagration
Date of Scene:	04 February 2019
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	A fire breaks out not too far from the Avengers' mansion. Two star-spangled heroes come to the rescue.
Cast of Characters:	Captain America, Miss America

---

Captain America has posed:
The night has fallen and so has the cold. The snowflakes are small, almost gritty, and while the wind isn't blowing steadily, the upkicks try and cut through any clothing. Everyone's huddled inside as best they can, but not Steve Rogers. He's got a last-minute grocery errand to run and he's slipped out into the mildly-awful weather to walk down a few blocks from the mansion. It's not far to the small mom-and-pop shop that hosts those essentials and not much else, but to no detriment. Steve knows they have his toothpaste there.

He walks along, knitted beanie keeping his ears warm and his winter-coat zipped to his chin. The Captain's anonymous enough as he approaches the place. Reaching out, he pauses as he glances over -- oops, too late. Store's closed about fifteen minutes ago. Already, the OPEN sign's been turned out and there's no lights on save for a back hall light. The family's gone upstairs for the night. A sigh from him gusts nearly white. He says something frustrated in Gaelic and turns away...

But something's odd. Something's off. Something on the wind smells like...wood fire -- and this is not the neighborhood for wood stoves. Steve pauses and inhales again, scanning the area.

Miss America has posed:
America Chavez doesn't need toothpaste. But that particular store just happens to carry her favorite treats- a candy brand that you can only find in ths particular universe and, even though it bears an adorable pink kitten as its mascot, the horrifying cuteness is still less than the satisfaction obtained from it, so she bears with it.

After flying a good way across to the store, she starts zoning in on the area, and pauses when she suddenly perceives that scent.

"Hmmm..." she narrows her eyes and she starts flying closer to the area.

Captain America has posed:
There is again, a ghost on the wind, but one getting stronger. Where...is it coming from? It's nearby. Turning on the spot, Steve crunches around to the small side-alley between the shop and the neighboring building. He squints, catching sight of an odd flickering light coming through a small frosted window inset to the brick of the shop. A quick jog-over and his eyes go wide.

That's a fire.

Carefully, he strips the glove from one hand and holds it up to the glass: hot. It's been burning long enough to get established and to take solid root.

"Dammit," the man spits, sprinting back out towards the street and the main door to the shop. There's no visible access he can see to get in fron the alley. As he rounds the corner, he sees movement in the sky. Throwing up his hands, he slides on the snowy sidewalk as he waves. "Hey! Hey! Fire, we gotta get to the second story!!!"

//FAH-BOOM!!!!//

That's a bag of flour suddenly catching alight in the storage room where the fire started -- the heated air as stirred up just enough powder to create a combustible dust explosion! Steve flinches and throws up his arms at the sudden sound and flash of light. Now half the store is covered in embers and he can hear frightened screaming from upstairs. The stairwell inside is covered in flaming debris!!!

Miss America has posed:
America hears the screams, and she recognizes the voice of the man calling out to her. She lands quickly by his side with a thud that creates a crack in the concrete. She rises from her crouching position quickly and looks at Steve.

"Best angle of approach?" she asks him. America is not the kind to acknowledge authority or command easily- most of her life she has learned to fly solo. There are, however, two people in the Multiverse to whom she would readily give the reins. One of them was Steve Rogers. "I can punch through the roof, but..."

Captain America has posed:
"There should be a second story window. Try to find one towards the back of the building. I hate to bust the door, but I can pay for it." Steve glowers at the front door, with its ballistics glass inset against burglary. He rolls his shoulder as if readying it for impact. "Get them out one at a time, set them down across the street. Once they're out, call 911 if you don't hear sirens by then. I'm gonna try and find the fire extinguisher, see what I can do to stop it before it spreads more."

With that, Steve bends his knees to set himself and then bulls into that front door like he means business. It warps on his impact, but does give at the hinges. He stumbles inside and immediately winces at the shock of dry heat against his face, cold as it is from outside. Now where did Misses Hoffmeister keep that extinguisher? He runs first for the check-out counter and behind it, looking as quickly as he can manage.

Miss America has posed:
"On it." The young woman quickly takes off to the air. She looks for the second story window, and muses to herself that she could have easily volunteered to help with the fire, because she is technically fireproof...

But the Hoffmeisters weren't.

Shattered glass announces her entrance, shielding her face from the sudden burst of heat. She's fireproof, not insensitive!

"Hello?" she calls out waiting for her eyes to adjust.

Captain America has posed:
"Help!" It's the voice of Misses Hoffmeister from the farthest corner of the bedroom. She has her single son tucked up against her, his dark-haired head hidden away nearly beneath her armpit. Both are in flannel pajamas against the cold. It appears Mister Hoffmeister is out of town on family business beyond the shop itself. "Get us out!!!" The woman reaches out a hand towards the sudden presence of America, her eyes wide and glossy with tears. Flames lick greedily around the frame of the bedroom's door and it's already very, very hot in the room. Smoke curls around the ceiling.

Downstairs, Steve is still searching through the cabinets behind the counter with as much hasty diligence as he can manage. Something explodes in the stocking closet again -- BOOM -- probably cleaning fluid by the sudden roiling of bluish smoke. He coughs once and curses under his breath in Gaelic before making a sudden grab at something. The fire extinguisher! It's small, but maybe he can at least keep the fire from spreading further out into the bottom floor. The stairwell's going to be a loss.

Miss America has posed:
"Everything's going to be alright!" America says emphatically, knowing reassurance is the best way to keep people from getting lost in a panic. "Come with me, quick!" she goes to meet Mrs. Hoffmeier's hand and clasps it firmly.

She's supposed to get them out one by one, and she knows how mothers everywhere- good mothers, anyways- work. "I'll take him first." She holds out her arms for the child, "I will be right back for you."

Captain America has posed:
Misses Hoffmeister does turn her son out towards America. He's scared to tears that flow down his face, no more than eight years old at most. "Go with her, Rupert, she's going to get you outside. I'm coming right after you!" He still needs a push and when he's in America's arms, he cries pitifully for his mother. "Go!" she shouts from her corner, giving the bedroom door another alarmed glance. The flames are stronger now.

Downstairs, Steve unleashes the fire extinguisher. Despite its size, he's able to corral the fire from further spreading into the store. Coughing into his elbow, he then moves to try and tangle with the stairwell. That'll be mostly a lost cause, but damned if he's not going to try!!!

In the distance, sirens wail -- the local fire department has been called. Already, some neighbors have emerged to the opposite side of the street and are staring, scared for the beloved family. One woman in particular calls out for Misses Hoffmeister, having acted as the family's babysitter. "Margaret!!! Margaret!!!"

Miss America has posed:
America wastes no time, as soon as Rupert is in her arms she is flying through the air, making sure the boy knows he is safe by how securely she holds him. It is fortunate that the neighbors come out, because it spares America the dilemma of where she would place such a small boy while she comes to rescue the mother- but the voice is like a beacon in the dark.

America descends, her clothes are badly singed, not sharing her immunity to fire, and her skin is smudged with soot.

"Keep him safe," she says, taking Rupert from her arms quickly- but carefully- and entrusting him to the shouting woman.

"I'm bringing your mother to you," she makes sure to tell Rupert as she turns around and flies into the air, a red-and-white-and-blue blur.

America Chavez lost her two mothers when they sacrificed their lives to ensure the Utopian Parallel, and its inhabitants, would be safe for all time from the intrusions of the rest of the multiverse.

One of the oaths she swore that day was that no child would ever go through that, if she could help it.

She flies towards the building in a blur of speed.

Captain America has posed:
The woman across the street takes up the sobbing Rupert in her arms and holds him close; he clings to her in lieu of his mother, burying himself away in her neck. She nods at America and repeats what the young woman tells the sobbing child even as the young superhero flies back and into the second story window once more. Margaret is tucked up in her corner still, now coughing. The fire has eaten away at the door. It collapses inwards to allow a new rush of heat and she yells hoarsely in fear, curling herself up as small as she can.

Downstairs, Steve finally runs out of foam from the extinguisher and has to call a retreat -- just in time. He exits the store through the broken front door, coughing and singed in places, as the fire truck pulls up. Without his beanie on, somehow lost in the fracas, the firefighters recognize him. He doesn't say anything except point towards the building and cough hard a few times. Finally, even as they're rolling out the hose, he tells the lead firefighter, "Ms. America's getting the mother, dunno if there's anyone else." He then retreats away towards the opposite side of the street, watching the second story with his heart in his throat. Has he sent the young woman into true trouble?!

Miss America has posed:
America erupts back into the room and into the fire. It was just in time, the situation was becoming dire. As she flies across the room, she shrugs off her jacket. Singed as it is, it still might provide some temporary shielding. "I am here!" she says loudly, to be heard over the flames, and coughs. She throws the jacket over Margaret's head and grabs her. "I won't let you go" she says, and quickly flies towards the window, keeping the woman as close to her as possible.

She flies out into the night air, Margaret held tightly to her as the star-spangled jacket flutters down into the street. She flies towards the son and the sitter and touches down, so that the two can see each other safe. When they are both satisfied, she says "The medics will be here soon. Have them see you, okay?"

And then she flies to the front, landing by Steve and one of the firefighters. "Everybody's out." She frowns, and looks at the building. She looks at the firefighters. "I could get a water tank and bring it here in a few seconds. Will it do any good?"

Captain America has posed:
Margaret, upon being set down by the babysitter, takes Rupert from her arms. Both women are weeping and the mother manages a brittle, teary, "Thank you so much!" to America before nodding in agreement as to the medics. One of the firefighters is already trotting over with med-kit in tow to look over the mother and son, huddled against the winter chill now that they're out of the fire.

Steve blows a frosty sigh of relief at seeing the young woman show up again and report that the building is clear. "They're just hooking up the hose," he comments, given the captain of the bridage is currently radioing another firetruck to the scene and commanding that medical backoff come with. "I'm glad you were nearby. The stairwell's burnt out, I wouldn't have been able to reach them." The Captain holds out a sooty hand to America with a tired smile of gratitude and coughs once. "Thank you."

Miss America has posed:
America actually smiles a little and shakes Steve's hand. "Don't have to mention it," she says, and crosses her arms over her chest. She's not cold, she's just trying to keep the aloof thing going. She's got a reputation.

"They're going to need help rebuilding," she says in a casual manner. Even with insurance, there would be a lot of damage to cover. She turns to look at the Captain, "I'm good at heavy lifting. Are you good at building?"

Captain America has posed:
"I've picked up a few tricks here and there, but I'm no carpenter," replies Steve, looking rueful for the truth. He glances back at the building as the first gush of water slams through the second floor window and the smoke begins to lessen. "I figured I'd pay for the rebuilding myself. I already owe them a door, it'd be less than humanitarian not to chip in for the rest. I'm sure the company we use to help rebuild won't mind an extra hand. I know our lawyer has helped with some heavy lifting a few times herself and it always goes faster." He coughs again and clears his throat. "I plan to show up when the company arrives if just to oversee how they're going to go about it, so you might see me lifting a hammer regardless of my lack of handyman-ship." While his smile is tired, it's a little stronger now, enough to flash some teeth.

Miss America has posed:
"Let me know when," she says, "Having a heavy lifter will make things go by quicker. And cheaper."

She looks over to Margaret and her son and grows quiet for a moment, the cold breeze teasing strands of her brown hair across her face.

After a few moments of silence, she turns back to Steve. "I'll drop my number at the mansion." And then the slight smile is back. "Always a pleasure, Captain."

And then there is a star-spangled streak of red, white and blue streaking across the sky, disappearing into a glittering blue-white star portal.