<div align="center"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Wednesday, January 15th, 3:00pm</strong></span><br/><em>The Cathedral, Out front</em></div><hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/bd/Vedaa_Arsenal_5.jpg)</div><strong>WHO:</strong>Antigone Ray Shanae Ellington (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=316749.msg15306250#msg15306250)<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>Black draping swimsuit/Armored in Steel and Gold, full helm, black skirt and calf-high flex-steel war boots<br/><strong>DOING:</strong>Observing Combat training, reacting<br/><strong>NOTE:</strong><br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Open<br/><hr/><br/>A dozen thoughts raced through Tiggy's mind as she sat on the sidelines, ready for the sun-n-fun session of today. Combat. Her armor sat beside her, but she was trying to settle in, to adjust to their lifestyle. Her swimsuit, one confiscated from one of the students who never returned, draped her form, showing plenty of skin. She sat on a beach towel, her hand resting on the cast off fender panel from an old Ford out back. She was manipulating the metals inside it, pushing out the impurities, removing the rust, and strengthening the panel. At least, she thought she was strengthening it. She would test it later, it was an idea for treating the panels on the beast they kept in the garage. Kaine's baby, if she could show him a significant change, before she proposed it to his baby, she may be able to enhance its protections. As she considered this, she felt the panel grow warmer with the rising sun and the anti-oxidizing efforts of her power. The rust was melting away, slow, but steady. She had a lot of work to do.<br/><br/>She wondered about Barry, he was-<br/><br/>A flash of light! Suddenly she could feel it, huge and spreading. Casting her eyes skyward, she bounded up, the panel stuck to her hand as she brought it up almost as a shield. She needed to protect them. Jumping onto the fender, she raised it quickly to the roof herself standing on it like a surfboard. As she stepped to the roof Antigone reached for the craft. Coming in hot and fast, she couldn't hold or slow it, changing her tactics she hoped the craft would survive. She bounced her power against an engine turbine, not trying to control it, but deflect it, she targeted the largest pieces, metal shadows.<br/><br/>Antigone shone with a blue glow emanating from her skin, gold from her temple and rib markings. Her eyes were open but directed none of her actions, as she directed her hands by senses that were beyond the five. Her armor hovered and  spun about her, plating itself on as she whipped her hands about, a mad drummer striking at the trapset, if the trapset were within a blender or tornado. This she could do, her mind above her and about them. Her helmet settled into place and she never missed a beat.<br/><br/>Something tugged at her shoulder, a loud ping, thunderous crashing, major and minor explosions, all of this registered somewhere in her mind, but she stood bastion upon the roof, hurling her power, directing her protections. She couldn't stop the rain of little stuff, but perhaps she could focus on the bigger stuff. God, keep them safe.<br/><br/>Then it had passed, the quiet settled. She collected a dozen smaller items, the last of the rain of metal, they floated a dozen feet in front of her, but her eyes were cast down at those beneath, had she helped? What must happen now? Was there a second wave coming, for a moment she was lost on the fields. Her gaze fell on the bodies beneath her, soldiers and civilians, the MASH unit she was visiting due to casualties and injuries to her unit. A MASH unit that had been hit and hit hard. "Corpsman, the fires, put them out! Triage! Scouts get me perimeter sweeps! Where?"<br/><br/>Then movement, and she was back in the present. Her breathing was hard, she was sweating, and her shoulder hurt. She looked down to see her armor on. When did that happen? The pauldron splintered over her shoulder where it took a glancing blow from debris, blood seeped from beneath the shattered plate, she was having difficulty breathing. "Medic!" The word was reflex. Looking down, she saw where the offending metal had ricocheted into and through the roof. Was that Gia's room? She had to stay calm, with luck it was a broken collar bone, and the growing recognition of pain lent itself to that theory. At least none of her armor plate was in her lungs, she hoped nothing else had pierced her lungs. Looking around, she .noticed she was on the roof, and had no idea how to get down. "Get me down." These words were quiet, as she sat down, her pain growing.<br/><br/>The sandstorm was coming, she could feel the wall of metal and silicates. It wouldn't hurt them, just make everything dirty. Few understood how much of their world held metals. She could still feel the trail of the ship, debris offered itself an arrow to the crash, She thought it had come to a stop just at the edge of her range. About two miles. Were they ok? Why did she care? And she realized, she did care.