[h2][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjQwLjAwMDAwMC5NUzR3TWlBLC4w/montserrat.bold.webp[/img][sup][color=#2e2c2c]--[/color][/sup][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjQwLjAwMDAwMC5JRU5CVlVkSVZDQkpUaUJVU0VVZ1EweFZWRU5JUlZNLC4w/montserrat.regular.webp[/img][/h2][table][row][color=#2e2c2c][sup][h3][b]
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[right]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/right]
[/b][/h3][/sup][/color][/row][row][cell][sub][sub][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/1119349205346029618/yates.gif[/img]
[/center][/sub][/sub]
[sup][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5444479][color=black][b]█  [sup]   [/sup]PREVIOUSLY...[/b][/color][/url][/sup]
[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/970459343667494932/unknown.png[/img][/center][sub][color=#2e2c2c]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/sub][/cell][cell][indent][color=d3d3d3][sub][b]10:27PM EDT. WASHINGTON, DC.[/b]

John Yates paces his hotel room, shadowed by an armed guard and the spooked lower-level Capital employee whose duties had just been dramatically promoted to establishing lines of communication between national branches. He’d stammered out his name, Calvert, as he thrust a beaten up cell phone into John’s hand and stated it was an emergency.

[color=black][b]“We have seismic activity, sir.”[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]“California has seismic activity every fucking day. Where was it reported?”[/b][/color] John snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose.

[color=black][b]“Maine, sir. Delton.”[/b][/color]

John stops pacing, standing deadly still in the center of the room.

[color=black][b]“How big?”[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]“7.4 magnitude… reported thirteen minutes ago.”[/b][/color] There’s an excessive level of typing from the seismologist’s end. [color=black][b]“Should’ve leveled half the town, but… well, according to our reports, the seismic activity was limited to less than a square kilometer.”[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]“Holy shit,”[/b][/color] John whispers into the silence. He clears his throat, straightening. [color=black][b]“Get a team out immediately. Covert. We need to know what happened first. I’ll be on the first flight out.”[/b][/color]

He snaps the cellphone shut, briefly wondering the pay rate of the human Daschund who’d just handed him his biggest breakthrough yet.

[color=black][b]“Calvert, I need you to phone Bill Winters and get a jet ready—or a helicopter, I don’t fucking care. His number’s on the registry.”[/b][/color]

[color=black][b]“Y-Yes, Mr Yates, sir.”[/b][/color] He nods, anxiously grabbing his phone and scampering out of the room.

[color=black][b]“Follow him,”[/b][/color] John says darkly to the guard once the door clicks shut. He disappears with a curt nod, leaving John to deflate into a nearby armchair. With a sigh, he pours out a glass of scotch, eyes trained on the ornate clock atop the bedside table. This situation needs to be water-tight if he doesn’t want to fuck this up.[/sub][/color][/indent][sup][color=#2e2c2c]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/sup][/cell][/row][/table][table][row][color=#2e2c2c][sup][h3][b]
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[right]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/right]
[/b][/h3][/sup][/color][/row][row][cell][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/967592442486460476/unknown.png[/img][/center]
[indent][color=d3d3d3][sub]Jack fights to lift her head off the ground, her whole body heavy with the ache of a hangover come early. Through the clumps of hair that stick awkwardly in her face, she squints to try and make out her surroundings, being met only with pitch black. It’s a slow crawl for her arm to snake into her pocket, shakily raising her phone to meet both hands and switch on the flashlight. If Delton was some huge city with a streetlight every 5 paces, it probably wouldn’t illuminate much, but the white beam slices through the surrounding rural darkness with precision.

What greets her is a sight better left unseen. Barely ten feet away from the group, the ground has fallen away completely. A moat of black swallows the light, but Jack can figure that sitting at the bottom of the now empty field is a pile of rubble that had moments ago been Ritman High.

[color=black][b]“Holy... fucking [i]shit[/i],”[/b][/color] she breathes, struggling to sit upright. She feels like she was just on the Titanic as the floodgates opened, her skin raw and stinging from where the impact against the grass ripped off a few layers. [color=black][b]“Hey, is anybody dead?”[/b][/color] Her voice carries loudly above the heavy silence.

She waves her phone around in the general direction of the group, counting each shadowed figure off in her mind. She’s too far away to tell if everyone’s still breathing, and her body tenses once it remembers what the current temperature is. Being cold is much worse when you’re on your ass on some field. Hypothesis proven—heat really must rise.

Desperate to breathe some warmth back into her muscles, Jack stretches forward, imitating touching her own toes when her hand hits something wet. The smell of copper burns her nostrils before she even identifies her own blood sticking to her fingers. Investigating further, she discovers two things: one, her left leg [i]really[/i] fucking hurts, and two, there are now shards of glass glittering in the turf where her beer bottle once was. [color=black][i]Shit.[/i][/color] It must’ve smashed during... whatever the fuck just happened, and flown into her leg.

As she investigates further, the most recent text on her phone screen catches her eye.

	[b]Erica:[/b]
	[color=white]Jack seriously where the fuck are you[/color]

Clenching her jaw, Jack swipes to unlock her phone, opening her messages app. About a dozen texts from Erica, and two from Casey, all within the past twenty minutes.

	[b]Erica:[/b]
	[color=white]Please answer the phone[/color]

	[b]Erica:[/b]
	[color=white]Was that an explosion?[/color]

	[b]Erica:[/b]
	[color=white]They’re saying something happened by the school where are you[/color]

Jack goes to type a response when the sound of sirens begins to grow louder and louder.

[color=black][b]“Shit! Okay, we need to get the fuck out of here. Like, right now.”[/b][/color] She drags herself to her feet, testing how much weight she can carry on her injured leg. [color=black][b]“Wake the fuck up! We gotta go!”[/b][/color][/sub][/color][/indent]
[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/967592442486460476/unknown.png[/img][/center][sup][color=#2e2c2c]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/sup][/cell][cell][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjI0LjAwMDAwMC5Ta0ZEU3lCWFNVeExSVkpUVDA0LjA/montserrat.regular.webp[/img][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/588109950006329429/1082165710219911300/image.png[/img]
[sub][sub][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1001241067372412999/1117237532866904127/ezgif-4-a53af823e9.gif[/img]
[/center][/sub][/sub]
[sup][color=black][b]█  [sup]   [/sup]#1.02 CAUGHT IN THE CLUTCHES[/b][/color]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCSG7XXQrCs][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/588109950006329429/1082586783436525618/image.png[/img][color=a9a9a9]against the waves — scntfc[/color][/url][/sup]
[indent][sup][color=d3d3d3]ritman high [football field]
interacting with: class of 2017[/color][/sup][/indent][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/970459343667494932/unknown.png[/img][/center][sub][color=#2e2c2c]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/sub][/cell][/row][/table]