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WHO: Ravi Chakrabarti
WHERE: Outside Ravi's House
WHEN: February 4th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Lightning Storm
STATUS: Open

The auroras and the lightning have seemed harmless. It's beautiful, of course, but Ravi's so occupied with the science behind this place that he doesn't even pay much mind to what's in the sky. It's just another component of what might be a simulation. Then, all of a sudden, the lightning isn't so pretty when it's getting close enough to scare him to death, stealing sleep away from Ravi. It's put him on edge, obviously, he'd be an idiot not to be, but what he hadn't been expecting was for things to continue on in this general bad direction.

He'd been cleaning up from some tests on the local foliage (using spring water to see what growth rates it could yield) when suddenly, his house explodes, a concussive blast that forcibly knocks him off his feet, one of the front walls having burst in. Not just that, but there are singed wires in the walls exposed, on fire, and it takes him a moment to realize what's just happened.

His hair is practically standing on end, the particles around him so supercharged, and he knows, right this moment, that his house has been struck by the sort of intense lightning that causes this sort of damage. It's paranoia and true fear that sends him skittering out of the house, bundling up a bag of whatever he can grasp, rushing outside and tripping in his clumsy struggle to escape before another bolt can hit and kill him, the way it had done to Ren.

He ends up curled up on the ground, his possessions around strewn around him, and all logic and sanity goes out the window as he curls up in the fetal position, hands protecting his head as sparks start to shoot off his skin. "I have lived through too much shit to die like this," he moans out loud, rocking a little. "If I'm cooked to a crispy Chakrabarti, make sure someone commemorates me with a beautiful drawing." Internally, he adds, and please, please don't let anyone turn me into a charred zombie.

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From a scientific perspective, the lightning phenomenon that's been occurring the last several days should be thrilling. Actual, verifiable ball lightning? It's rare enough in nature as it is, but displaying with such frequency? If we had the equipment to measure and study what's been happening in the atmosphere, it would be fantastic.

But beyond the most rudimentary tools, we don't have any equipment, and we don't have what we very badly need to ensure our own safety.

A man is dead, and we're all on edge.

I'm walking down the road when I see the flash, and I don't even think before I'm running toward Ravi's house, a ghostly afterglow drifting across my vision.

"Are you okay?" I call before I've even reached him, not knowing if I need to turn right around and bolt off to find Helen.

Ravi's got his eyes shut tightly, trying not to open them for fear that he's going to see another bright, visceral flash that has him wetting his underthings in a terrifying lack of decency. He pokes his finger behind him in what he hopes is the direction of his house, still not daring to open his eyes. "House, exploded," he manages, still trying to catch his breath.

He suspects this may be a panic attack the likes of which he hasn't had since the time he thought he'd been about to be zombie kibble. "Am I alive? You're not my guardian angel, are you?"

"Barring the possibility that this village is actually the afterlife, yes, I think it's safe to say that we're both alive," I reply with a soft, relieved chuckle. "Whether or not I'm a guardian angel remains to be seen."

I reach for him, hands gentle but firm in an effort to help him up, make sure there aren't actually any injuries that aren't immediately obvious.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you my habitat on Mars exploded and nearly killed me?"

"I deserve a better afterlife than this," Ravi grumbles into his arm, breathing in and then out slowly, peeking past his little ball in order to look at the house in question. In the moment, it had all seemed rather explosive and dramatic. Now that he looks at it, the ball lightning seems to have carved one very dramatic hole in his home and that's it.

Apparently, in the heat of the moment (literally), Ravi had perhaps thought himself under fire. "I feel worse for you, to be honest," he says, finally prying himself out of his curled up position, leaning on Mark to try and get back to his feet. "Honestly, the more you tell me about Mars, the more I wonder if you didn't offend an ancient Roman god who was aiming to get his revenge on you on his planet. Have you thought about not angering Ares?"

"I was there, so I definitely feel worse for me, too," I say with a smirk, making sure he's steady on his feet before I let him go. He doesn't seem to have been struck himself, but anyone would be shaken up after something like that.

"Well," I add after a moment, casting a considering glance to the house, "at least you already have a new place to live lined up?"

"You mean, a hole in the wall isn't actually a desirable home space?" he notes wryly, shaking a little from the shock of what's just happened. It takes him a second to catch up, brain taking a while to get there. "I'm glad you're ready to take me in, without an exhaustive interview process, given how messy I can be with my homes," he deadpans, gesturing to the mess that is absolutely not his fault, this time.

"I don't suppose you want to help me put out those fires," he says, starting to worry about the possessions he has in there, namely the medical and science supplies. Luckily, the fires seem to be small and burning themselves out, but he'd rather not leave it to chance.

Edited 2017-02-17 16:32 (UTC)

"Between the two of us, Helen may come to regret this decision," I say with a soft chuckle and considering nod to the mess. God only knows if the three of us in one house is going to work, but with shared interests and all the new people coming in, it just makes sense to find out.

"I guess we'd better," I agree with a sigh. "You have some blankets we can use?" There's water in the kitchen and bathroom, of course, but blankets might be easier. Less running back and forth.

"I've never been very fond of the curtains," is what he says instead, heading inside and trying not to let his hands shake too badly as he starts to yank them down, trying to ignore the part of his mind reminding him about the last time he'd felt this emotionally and physically shaken. Instead, he focuses on the fires, grateful that they don't look so large and that he can start moving inventory in the process.

He manages to get mostly everything into a pile near to the door, grateful that nothing looks like it might blow and take the whole home with it, so there's that. "I'm still shaking," he says, when he stops moving long enough to see it. "I think I might still be in shock."

"Ravi, sit down," I say with a knowing glance his way. "Or walk around, if that's what you need to do until the adrenaline ebbs. Point is, I've got the rest of this."

Fortunately, the fires are small and not spreading too quickly -- The snow has stopped, but the whole area is still pretty water-logged, and thank god for that. We could have had several really dangerous fire situations otherwise.

"You have any kind of box or bag I can put this stuff in to carry over to Helen's?" I ask with a motion to the pile by the door.

Ravi settles himself down precariously on the nearest flat surface he finds, which happens to be a strange little part of the house that juts out like a bench. He rests his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as he tries to ignore the gaping hole in his wall and remind himself that he should just be happy he didn't get hit.

"There's a few boxes in the back," he directs, leaning forward. "Avoid the one with the rat droppings, though," he says, thinking he really should throw that out, but it's not like they have a handy landfill going to recycle everything.

"How about I empty the rat droppings out in the back yard?" I suggest, because last I checked they were mostly-dry pellets, and I am the last person in this place to waste something as useful as a box.

"I'll line the bottom with a towel or something. What do you want to do about the actual rats? You want to move them now or later?"

"I should probably take them now," he admits, "the longer they're with me, the longer I can maintain the controlled environment." Not that he thinks it's very controlled anymore, not after that lightning strike, which he suspects has introduced a brand new phobia into all of them, if they're clever little things and they are. "Take any of the boxes from the gifts," he directs, "I've unpacked everything, but most of it goes back in now, I suppose," he admits.

Glaring at the broken wall for a moment, then skywards, he wonders if this is some sort of signal or message. "Do you believe in God?" he wonders. "Only, if this is God or Zeus or some deity trying to tell me something, I need a little more to go on than just 'we have destroyed your abode'."

"Not really," I admit as I step to the back of the house. After a moment of looking, I find the boxes and step out the back door to toss out the rat droppings before heading back to Ravi.

"Given what happened to Kylo Ren's house, I'd say Zeus would be the better bet of those two, but I'm pretty sure the more likely explanation is the people keeping us here." If it is people. I don't know why I'd assume this has to be man-made; stubbornness, I guess.

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Sonny's walking through the village, moving from his own house to the house that is now officially the village's church. Something that he's incredibly proud of, actually, despite the shabbiness of it all. It's not the mismatched furniture and makeshift cross that makes it a church anyway, it's the worship that goes on inside.

He's heading in that direction, intent on doing what he can to clean it up just a little bit more, despite his lack of supplies, when he hears what sounds like an explosion. A little ways away, black smoke begins to climb, and he can smell something burning.

Without a second thought, he's leaping right into cop mode, feeling more in his element than he has since he's gotten here. First, he makes a dash for his house, gathering a few possibly needed blankets, a bed sheet that might come in handy as a makeshift bandage, and the only thing there is to drink in his fridge — a bottle of unopened Long Island Iced Tea that he got for Christmas.

He sprints the entire way to the scene, immediately locating the only body in sight and crouching beside it, a hand on Ravi's back. He'd like to move the man away from the burning house, but first he's got to make sure he can be moved.

"Hey, are you alright? Don't worry, I'm a cop. I'm here to help."

Ravi tentatively peers up from out of the self-imposed little ball he's forced himself into, a wary and suspicious look on his face as he looks at said cop, eyeing him up and down. He's had both good and bad luck with police in the past, but Clive's a good egg so he ought to give this man the benefit of the doubt. Once Ravi sees what's in his hand, he decides that not only is he going to give him the benefit, he'll throw in the whole kitchen sink.

"I'll be much better if you let me have some of that," he insists with a point towards the bottle of booze, heart rabbiting away madly in his chest. He doubts it's really going to calm him, but maybe it will work as a placebo simply because Ravi thinks it will work.

"Yeah, alright," Sonny says, and it's with a faint laugh, the hand on Ravi's back urging him to get up. "I would've brought some water but this is all I had in my fridge. Not that you're complaining, I guess."

Truthfully, alcohol probably isn't the answer to this particular problem, but drinking anything in a situation like this is important. Fluids are important, and right now, Ravi needs something to ground him. Even if that something happens to contain liquor.

"C'mon, let's get you away from the fire. I got a blanket here for you."

Ravi peeks at the damage to the house, not sure why he feels so disappointed when he sees it. It had felt like so much when he'd been inside, but it's really only the crack in one wall and the fire. Apparently, his flair for the dramatic remains, even now. "I feel like you've done this before," he says, reaching for the bottle to nurse it with both hands, gulping his first sip of it down before he can think twice about the bad idea of mixing adrenaline and alcohol.

"We should probably put the fire out," he admits, because there are several possessions in there that he really likes, but also that he knows the village likes, if they like basic medical care.

Strangely, Ravi has the feeling that people do enjoy that perk.

They probably do need to put the fire out as soon as possible. It's relatively small and contained right now, and the last thing they want is for it to get bigger. It's a shame all the snow has melted by now — it really would've come in handy for putting out smile fires.

"I told you, I'm a cop." It's said with a shrug and a half-smile. Admittedly, he hasn't done this particular thing before, assisting someone when their house gets struck by lightning and catches on fire. But he has assisted in many disasters and chaotic events, and happens to be very good in a panic-inducing situation such as this.

"We should," he agrees. "I just want to make sure you're not hurt first."

Being a cop and tending to someone after a random lightning strike are two very different skill sets, in Ravi's opinion, but seeing as he's currently benefiting from said skills, he's not in any rush to dismiss them and do anything but take advantage of what's being offered to him. "I'm likely in shock," he admits, tipping his head to the side so that he can take his pulse.

"That's racing, but so long as it keeps beating, we can avoid a cardiovascular event," he says, taking in three long, deep breaths. "I think I'm fine. I think it's just anxiety and panic and shock."

"Are you a doctor?" Sonny asks, and it doesn't sound challenging or skeptical, but genuinely curious. He knows Helen's a doctor, but he figures there's never an over-abundance of health care professionals in a situation such as this one.

Still, they have bigger things to worry about right now. Like salvaging what they can of the burning house. He thinks it's small enough and seems to be slow-burning enough that they should be able to keep it from getting out of control, at the very least. Might be able to save most of what's inside, too.

"Do you have neighbors? We need a place to get water and the river might be too far away."

"Dr. Ravi Chakrabarti," he introduces himself, extending a very trembly hand, which is probably not at all a very confidence-inspiring handshake, but now is not the time for power handshakes and man struggles about proving who's got bigger balls by virtue of squeezing fingers. "We can go to the inn," he says, because it'll likely be the closer. "It's only about a few houses down that way," he says, which he thinks is accurate? He knows confusion can often happen after lightning strikes, but that's to a person, not to a home."

"Yes, the inn," he says, more solidly.

"Nice to meet you," Sonny says, still just a bit breathless from having sprinted over. "I mean, minus the circumstances. I'm Detective Sonny Carisi."

Normally, he doesn't introduce himself to people with the title, not if he isn't at work. He doesn't really feel the need to. But it gives him a sense of familiarity right now, just like coming to Ravi's aid does. And a sense of familiarity in their overall current situation is something Sonny craves like nothing else.

"The inn," Sonny echoes. "That's good, that's really good. They'll probably have buckets and containers to carry the water in, too. C'mon." He gets to his feet, extending his hand to help Ravi up.

Ravi feels completely unsteady, even if it had been a close call. He's physically fine, but the problem is that his house isn't. "Wait," he says sharply. "Wait, no, we can't go, not yet," he says, because while the little fires from the strike are slowly dying away, they're not gone and he has a lot of equipment and materials in there that he doesn't want to see consumed by fire.

"We need to put those out," he says, of the dying blazes. "I might not have a home anymore, but I can't lose what I do have."

Sonny hesitates, already half-turned towards the direction of the inn. He'd really like to put out the worst parts of the fire, keep it from spreading any further and potentially damaging any other nearby houses. But he also understand the desire to salvage what little they have here, what few things they've been given.

"I hope you have some stomping boots, then," Sonny says, moving towards the house instead. "Let's put this thing out."

There are certainly a few curtains in the house that Ravi has no care about losing, so even though he's shaky and a little wary about setting foot back in that house, he knows that he'll do it because he doesn't want to lose his things. He yanks down the curtains and starts to smother the fires, keeping an eye on his possessions carefully, not wanting them out of sight.

"Careful," he warns Sonny, "there's a lot of medical equipment here, it's very important we don't ruin it."