Disaster || WTSC Earthquake || Jane and Cyril
The two of them had danced, talked, and spent time together for quite a while. It was a bit unusual, Cyril didn't make new friends, definitely not quickly, and especially not at events. Town organized events were the worst of those. But somehow the rules he generally followed didn't seem to apply tonight, and he and Jane had really hit it off. But neither of them had cared much for the ball itself, and both seemed to be eager to step outside, when he'd suggest they leave the ballroom for a short while to get some air.
They'd just gotten to the steps outside the building, sitting down on the bottom ones, and Cyril opened his mouth to speak, about to talk when suddenly the world around them began shaking. Instinctively, he shut up, acting before his brain had a chance to process, and tugged Jane off the stairs, all but taking her into his arms and he rushed them away from anything high, things that risked falling on them, into the center of the parking lot beside the building, which was half empty despite the ball. There, they were more or less safe, though he still continued to hold Jane against him, not quite aware of her presence there as he scanned the area for hazards, and focused on keeping himself upright during the quake.
His brain only unclouded when the world stopped moving, and then Cyril realized he was crushing Jane against him. Blushing slightly, he let go, surveying the damage as he moved a few steps away from her. "Sorry..." he muttered, instinctively wondering where his brothers were, and if they were safe, feeling almost as if something was missing now that he didn't know exactly where they were. It made him uncomfortable. Irritated. He needed to find them. But not yet. He had to make sure Jane was safe. There was nothing that could be done, as he had no idea where the other Trinitys were. They might not even be at the party, for all he knew. He hadn't seen them in a while. But he'd take care of that second.
"Let's get you home," he spoke the words with an almost authoritative tone, not leaving much room for argument, despite not intending it to come off that way. His words were almost curt, sharp and to the point. Cyril was preoccupied, worrying about his triplets.







