Snippet #2764087

located in New York City, a part of Commedia dell'arte, one of the many universes on RPG.

New York City

"Can a city that never sleeps ever be a city of dreams?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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Having arrived on scene, Bashemath walked over to get a closer look at the disaster zone. Xander stayed behind, even in disguise he was still much too tall, much too intimidating. Dust still stirred in the air, officers who had arrived on scene had to wear masks to keep from inhaling possible toxic elements in the air, leaving nothing to risk against what seemed to be terrorists. They were holding back a growing crowd, some weeping for their friends and loved ones who most likely lie dead or dying in the rubble, others yell at the police like they could have prevented this. All the while this is going on, Bashemath snuck her way to the zone, observing the mostly crumbled structure, slightly shaking. Due to the dust and debris carried through the air, and the cover of dark, the officers are left oblivious to her presence

"Why?" she uttered, a slight quiver in her voice. She swallows her fear, she would fulfill her prime directive. She closed her eyes and focused, as a multitude of eyes open elsewhere as figures from the shadows of the streets began to scurry towards her. Vermin and other animals, once dead, reanimated and scattered throughout the city as her sentinels, now by her power came to the call of her will, and, in multitude began to secretly dig into the rubble. Through their eyes she could see, through their ears she could hear, through their bodies she could feel, and through them she could tragically sense many dead... a crestfallen moan escaping her throat, but soon a gasp, as deeper... stifled breath. She reaches out her hands into the air, cupping them upwards as if she was holding something. The creatures, though small, collectively move the rubble and begin to free the entrapped bodies, carefully moving them to the surface with careful surgical guidance. Bashemath herself seemed to dance in a trance, flailing her arms into the air, eyes still closed.


"Shit, have the rats already began to eat at them?" an officer muttered, having noticed the vermin squirming their way through as the dust began to clear. The sight before him was more than what he had imagined, as the rats were exhuming the victims in a systematic manner, and placing them next to each other. He nudged another officer who swatted his hand aside, on edge from the carnage, but paused as the scene caught his eye. "The hell... is this?"

Running over to the scene the officers swung at the rats, and the vermin scattered out of sight. Kneeling over, the officers checked the victims, finding they have faint heartbeats and shallowed breath. Their bodies covered bruises and gashes, but alive all the same. Without hesitation, they began to signal to the medics.

Bashemath watching as they placed them on stretchers slipped quietly back away from the scene, certain she had not been noticed. They would see it as a... freak event of nature, that maybe the rats intended to feed on the food buried underneath and inadvertently freed the survivors. None of that mattered to her, however, she was only concerned with fulfilling her directive.