towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters: America, open
Setting: cafeteria, in front of the staff elevator
Format: I'll match you
Summary: After finding out what happened to the people who were taken away, America attempts to fix things by breaking other things. Like the elevator.
Warnings: language/furious America/etc

There wasn't much America could do to help the surgery victims directly, which made him angry enough on top of the fact that it had happened at all. That there were people he knew, and children, involved, made him angrier. That two of his citizens were involved just made the whole thing absolutely impossible to ignore for even a moment. America's always done righteous fury well, or he likes to think so. And this place is entirely deserving of his rage.

He knocks on the elevator lightly at first, mostly to test it. It doesn't feel like it should be hard to break through, not really. He can't find the seam that should separate the doors, but that isn't really necessary for him.

The sound, when he strikes the door a second time, reverberates up the elevator shaft and through the cafeteria. It's not even the full force his muscles are capable of, and it earns him an electric jolt that makes him yelp in surprise, but the door doesn't budge. And it definitely should have.

So he backs off and kicks it with everything he's got in him. The noise and vibration are even louder, and he yelps again as a stronger shock pulses through his brain, but again the elevator door doesn't even look like he so much as tapped it.

Furious, he turns to an empty cafeteria table and slams his hand down on it, snapping it in two like it was made of balsa wood.

"Hey! I know you guys are down there somewhere!"

He kicks the door again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She raises her fists and her eyes glow an angry pink]

Is it one, two, three or one, two, three, go? [she had to ask just in case, she doesn't want to get it wrong and miss the mark]

On go.

[America cracks his knuckles and takes a step back to get a better angle at the swing.]

One, two, three, go!

[He strikes hard, enough to break through most anything. It has to break the door, it has to, right?]

[Molly nods seriously at him and stretches out her fingers a bit, it's been a while since she has used her power and she knows that she only has one really good shot in her before she'd need a nap. But if the elevator needed more than one pounding she was determined to hit it as much as necessary. No one hurts her friends.]

[On "GO" she strikes the elevator as hard as she can, no holding back. She knew her own strength and not much could hold up to it.[

[While it seems like everything rattles a fair amount, the door sits unopened, unbroken, undented]

What the hell, that should've worked!

[He kicks the door just out of his own sense of frustration and hisses at the pain of suddenly being deprived of his strength, as well as the electric shock.]

[Molly is overcome with drowsiness and frustration. She needs to lean against the wall to keep herself up and tears start to well up in her eyes. It isn't pain from hitting the elevator, no, that didn't hurt at all. It was the frustration and anger at herself for not being able to break the stupid door! She was strong and she knew it. She knew that should have broken. So why didn't it?]

[whispered] I'm sorry.

[America sits down on the ground beside where Molly is leaning, exhausted and still vaguely hurting from the shocks.]

There's gotta be something, like--like a force field on the door or--or something.

[This is comic book logic, really.]

[She slides down the wall to sit next to him, resisting the very big urge to lean her head on his shoulder and just fall asleep on him.]

[Instead she nods]

That makes sense. We need someone who can break barriers or something. Or maybe if the power went out again.

Yeah. Yeah. We'll just ask for someone who can do stuff like that. They might be able to help.

Do you think there are people like that here?