Language warning for Cherry
Jack was just starting to glisten with sweat when he overheard one of the victims bawl about their baby still being inside. Well, no time for a breather now. As the most vulture-like of the reporters zeroed in on the distraught woman, a slightly overweight cat faunus near-drowning in her own tears, Jack beat them to the punch. Yanking his shirt from his pocket, he calmly wiped away her tears as the cameras swung his way yet again. He was careful not to face them as if he were putting on a show, and gave all his attention to the woman he was now holding the shoulders of.
"Miss..." women loved being called that, it made them feel young even if they weren't...,"You said your baby was still trapped inside? I promise you I can get up there, what apartment are they in?"
"4B! Oh, she's only three, I'd just come out to get the mail, she's all by herself! Hurry! Gods save her, hurry!"
"Miss, just tell me her name, and I'll have her back in a minute." he went on, his voice rock-steady and honeyed.
"Chysanthemum, just call her Chrissy, she's a cat like me..." the woman burbled, calming as Jack put every effort into soothing her.
"Hang tight, I've got this!" he cried, giving her a thumbs up and a winning smile over his shoulder at her. He dashed over to a ladder truck that was positioning itself to better combat the blaze, and blinked his way to the edge of the ladder. Perching at its rising edge, he leaped from it just as the fireman started bringing the hose up from below, cannonballing himself through a window and letting his aura deal with the glass. Once inside he was almost overwhelmed by the choking heat, not to mention the smoke, and he wound up tearing his shirt to make an impromptu mask. 4B, 4B, 4B...where the hell is it...Well, there was a 4 on the door, the blast must have knocked the B loose. He kicked the door in and rushed forward, only to find...a dead bird girl and a puking Dogmeat. Fighting the urge to sympathy hurl, he decided to get his attention.
"Yo Saggio! Fancy meeting you here! Say, before we get out of here, I've got a kid to find. Think your ears can hear someone call back to us over this roar?" he shouted, trying to make himself heard over the din of the flames and the sirens outside.
Cherry wasn't thinking terribly clearly right about now. The smoke was getting to her, her semblance was getting to her, the fact that someone had probably set off an explosion in a faunus neighborhood was getting to her...she was a mess, and she looked it. Her ponytails had long since torn loose from their bindings, and her hair was everywhere. The skirt was torn in a dozen places, her mesh gloves were all but tatters, and everywhere she was covered in soot and grime. And still she powered her way up the side of the building, again and again, while that big Murk guy took care of the bottom floor. Actually, he wasn't running in anymore. She spied him lumbering over toward Cheri, that bitch, who was waving and jumping up and down about something. Wait, she was waving at her! Fucking what? Not now you silly cunt! There were...oh...she was trying to get Marlon to lift something. Oh fuck.
"Fucking shitballs." she hissed, and pushed off the wall, leaping as far as she could towards them just as Jack Fuckholebone smashed through the window she'd been hanging near.
Marlon wasn't tired by any means. No sir. He plugged on like a juggernaut, smashing in doors or through barriers where necessary, using his aura shielding to become a living battering ram. In some cases he locked it and allowed firemen to carry people out as he formed a human brace or shield, whatever they needed to do their jobs. When he came back into the light for about the tenth time, he was barely recognizable from all the ash and soot. Well, if you'd never seen him at work in his forge, that is. He wiped his brow and saw Cheri hollerin' at him, no, for him, to come on over. Taking a wild gander at what she might be needing, he jogged off, ready to put his brawn to use all over again.
One thing was for sure, he hadn't exactly expected to see this much death in Vale. Home was one thing, but Vale...Vale was like a paradise by comparison. And yet here he was, in paradise, surrounded by blood and fire. Hell...Shaking the thought off, he reached Cheri, and waited for an explanation.
Her ears straining, Cheri searched among the rubble as Jack and the paramedics worked. Every so often she glanced up and saw Dr. Holliday at a different stretcher, his suit coat cast off and his sleeves rolled up high, away from his bloodstained forearms. He was working quickly, and his shirt was soaked through with sweat. She was barely keeping it together herself with what little blood she was seeing...how in the world could he even stand it? Her stomach flip-flopped a little, and she almost missed the sound of shifting rubble beneath her feet. She paused. That wasn't just shifting rubble. It was a steady, frantic scratching. She crouched down, placing an ear to the slab of concrete beneath her. Someone was trying to dig!
"Hey! Can you hear me!?" she called, as loud as she could. The scratching intensified, and what to anyone else might have been only muffled screams came through as distinct, though still dampened voices. Two kids. An adult. Maybe a fourth, it was too weak to tell. "Just hold on, we're going to get you out!"
Where was someone who could lift this giant thing? Man, to be able to use aura right now...She strained for a second, as foolish as it was, and got nowhere. She tried digging around it a little, and had her aura fixing some scraped up hands for her abortive efforts. Wait, there was Marlon! And Cherry! They were strong! She began jumping up and down, shouting for them to come over. Marlon got there first, and listened to her explanation before starting to heft, his muscles bulging with the effort. Cherry arrived in a near crash-landing, looking worse for wear, silently flipped her off, and let her semblance do the talking. With her help, they had the slab up in no time at all. Cherry actually held the whole thing up as Marlon carried out the badly crushed father, the fourth voice Cheri had had trouble hearing, and Cheri got the wife and kids moving, doing everything in her power not to simultaneously cry and vomit at the sight of the mutilated man. They would have all died down in that partially collapsed basement, the wife said.
She couldn't handle it. She really couldn't. But she kept searching, through the tears, and after she'd been sick behind an ambulance. Marlon held her hair while he took a breather, and rubbed her back. Gods, this was all so horrible...how was he just standing there, as strong as ever...