This has been a bogus time to surface so much. Everyone else in The Underground is jonesing for a way out of the mess they're in, and that means it's her job to take them somewhere better. So she does. This place doesn't come with a giant sky eye deleting anything it doesn't like the look of. Rad! Good enough for her.
Shimmer in the air as Jane disappears and-
The body grows in size, taller and taller as Jane's clothes are replaced by fishnet everything. Where a human might keep a head, this being has what seems to be a glowing, roiling ball of fire, not dissimilar to the sun.
It throws a fireball at an unoccupied spot of grass. Then another.
"- I don't know if that's a smart kind of trouble!"
"Let's get people to safety."
Miranda tries her best to get the other people in the meadows to give Sun Daddy a wider berth; convincing them is all the more difficult because she's clearly associated with her- stupid, stupid, they can't protect her- but her voice is authoritative enough that a few people start cooperating.
Palisade gets into the air to herd people away by strafing if necessary.
People are herded.
Sun Daddy's form shimmers, just as they always do before another shift, and-
Shit. Jane sighs, looking at the scorch marks. Sun Daddy doesn't usually come out for stuff like this- they really need to take a break soon. Not her problem, though. Her problem is topside. She looks around for any sign of librarians or other bureaucrats, and- there. Someone with a slick haircut and starched suit is rushing over.
"Thank you, Palisade."
Miranda steps forward, keeping just behind Jane. She won't take over when Jane clearly wants to take the lead on this one; it's not a good idea to get caught up in this, if they're going to punish her somehow. Multi-pronged approach, she reminds everyone else, who is grumbling that maybe she shouldn't just take over again like nothing has changed. She- will talk to them about this later. They can't afford delays right now.
Clair takes over - a version of Clair with legs - to meet the starchy person.
Starchy person stammers as he approaches their assembled group.
"W-w-which of you threw fireb-b-balls at our waiting area?"
"That would be me. Sorry."
"We are sorry, sir."
"It won't happen again."
"Come with me. I'll escort you inside so that we can sort all of this out."
He turns, glancing back to make sure they're following behind.
Follow follow like good, law-abiding citizens who didn't mean to let their fireballs get out of hand.
Emmy switches in after a bit but doesn't break stride.