Maeve
Even with the rain things manage to spark inside. Candles and lanterns alike tipped over and shattered, catching on billowing fabric, spreading as it hisses and sputters. Maeve was on the second floor when it collapsed, falling as floorboards gave way. Her visions blurs and she doesn't know if it's from the adrenaline coursing through her or whatever else. She's hot and cold all at once, soaked to the bone from the rain, but there is blood too. It wets her hair from where she hit her head, dripping into her eyes with rain water as she lays flat on her back, struggling to draw in breaths. She can vaguely see the sky through the rubble; dark and angry, pouring out its wrath on her prone form.
The others inside were lucky, close to the side that collapsed and with the help of the other men they're able to get out as the building groans, threatening to collapse further. Weakly she pushes at one of the beams that covers her, having landed square across her torso. Maeve grunts, trying to wiggle out from beneath the support beam that failed miserably at supporting anything. At least there were out. They got out.
There is hardly room for him to stand inside. Beams hold up the wall at an angle, keeping it from collapsing further in on itself for the time being, but it's hard to tell how long it'll last. Maeve pants, unable to feel the ache that comes with bruised ribs as she squirms and wiggles, shoving at the beam with little success. So caught up in her own attempts to get loose that she doesn't even see the macaw swoop into the building.
The others inside were lucky, close to the side that collapsed and with the help of the other men they're able to get out as the building groans, threatening to collapse further. Weakly she pushes at one of the beams that covers her, having landed square across her torso. Maeve grunts, trying to wiggle out from beneath the support beam that failed miserably at supporting anything. At least there were out. They got out.
There is hardly room for him to stand inside. Beams hold up the wall at an angle, keeping it from collapsing further in on itself for the time being, but it's hard to tell how long it'll last. Maeve pants, unable to feel the ache that comes with bruised ribs as she squirms and wiggles, shoving at the beam with little success. So caught up in her own attempts to get loose that she doesn't even see the macaw swoop into the building.
These violent delights
Have violent ends
Have violent ends
