[center][img] http://i.imgur.com/jzzw4on.jpg[/img] [h2][color 33ec06]Marcus Howell[/color][/h2] [img]https://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][hr][color=silver]π•Šπ•¦π•Ÿ: π•Šπ•–π•‘π•₯. 𝟚𝟘, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / π•Žπ•’π•€π•™π•šπ•Ÿπ•˜π•₯π• π•Ÿ, 𝔻.β„‚. / / ℝ𝕠π•ͺ𝕒𝕝 β„™π•–π•Ÿπ•₯𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕀𝕖 π•Šπ•¦π•šπ•₯𝕖 / / ~πŸ™πŸšπŸ˜πŸ˜[/color][hr][/center] It was the sudden shout that alerted Marcus to the danger. He was sat on his bed, flipping through some of the interviews and pictures that had popped up since the group had found themselves in D.C. He was on a particularly embarrassing edit him and Ernie getting smashed together when he heard it. Flinging himself off the bed just as the emergency siren started blaring, Marcus found himself in the main room, having followed Emma’s yell. β€œ[color 33ec06]What’s wrong!?[/color]” he shouted, eyes floating from the apparently unharmed Emma to the window. His question was immediately answered by Officer Brahms shouted out the situation, but Marcus focused more on what he was seeing than what he was hearing. His body didn’t move as the office building came flying at them, and it didn’t move as the shaking of the building knocked him off his feet. The sensation of falling. The sound of chaos drowning out everything else. A sharp pain as shards of glass embedded themselves into his skin. This all seemed eerily familiar.[hr] He must have blacked out for a second, or it had all happened too quickly for him to even comprehend. His body hurt, and his mind was groggy, but he was alive. He was vaguely aware of Brent’s voice shouting at him from somewhere. He was alive. Despite the searing pain in his body as he sat up, dust falling off him like snow, he was mostly uninjured. Certainly nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. β€œ[color 33ec06]Transmit. Marcus. Minor injuries only. Over.[/color]” He pulled himself to his knees, and then to his feet, staggering slightly from the combination of disorientation, and a sharp gash across his left leg. There had been other voices coming through his cuff, and his slowly clearing mind was starting to take count. Healers. He needed to find the healers first. The slight fogginess in his brain was starting to be replaced by the acute clearness of adrenalin – his eyes fell on the golden hair of Lily as she crumpled. [i]Golden hair[/i] Lily. The priority. He started limping towards the small group that was forming, panic starting to softly settle below the heat of calm. He had to make sure everyone was okay first.