Per had, naturally, spent the downtime after the mission daydreaming about some unnamed person. At least until his roommate came up and decided it'd be a good idea to terrorize her some more. After charring the hallway, she stormed off to the kitchen to grab some food and then hide out for a while in the sauna. It was somewhere between heating her soup by hand and when her pulse finally died down from the scare minutes before that the call came in. Per took it and said backup would be there soon, and then raced up the stairs to find Orren and the rest of the team. Within minutes they were all suited up and heading out.

The second they rounded the corner, Per froze. "No, no, no..." She backed up, her head shaking. "Oh hell no." This had to be some sort of sick joke. It had to be. There was no way this was real. No way. The entire street was drowning in ice. It covered everything, icicles hanging from ledges and snow swept to the sides where something had dug into the ice. It looked like it had been thrown around at random by some insane interior decorator. It gave off frigid air in waves and it was sneering at her with it's shiny teeth and Persephone didn't think it could get any worse until she spotted Fallout and the villain before him. She didn't need to see the ice coming from him to know he was the last person she ever wanted to see. Just the sight of him, covered completely by thick warm clothing, told her he had known to prepare for this - that he had caused this.

More than anything, she wanted to turn and run. Maybe scream a little as she went. Definitely lock herself in the sauna and refuse to leave until the sight of this scene was burned from her mind. But she knew a few things. One - she was the only one in the team of justice who could melt ice and resist being frozen for a little while. Two - the man had just hacked at Fallout, and resistant as his armor was, the look of the ice surrounding him was more than sinister. Three - the guy of her dreams, literally, was standing right next to her and now only did she want to seem impressive, but she knew if she tried to back out he would only look at her with those sapphire eyes and she would agree to do it no matter how much she didn't want to. So, she snuck a glance at Orren and then turned back to the scene and steeled herself. It was ice, but she was fire. She'd be okay. They needed her help. She could do this - Firefly could do this.

She stepped forward, starting to push out heat. Her feet radiated out through her boots and where she stepped, crystals turned to puddles. Her fingers wiggled and then dissolved into flames, and she moved further forward over the ice until she was close enough. She only had a few chances to do this before she would be considered a larger threat than who she was trying to save. In one fluid movement, her arms twirled and her body twisted and a rush of fire rushed forward through the air. It hit the ice covering Fallout, and before it had complete chance to dissipate another wave followed it. Spurts flew at the ice in rapid succession, rolling waves of flames beginning to melt the ice prison.

.

Even with the blaring sirens and the coms going crazy, it took Collin a couple of minutes before he woke up. As he groggily woke up, he began to understand the gravity of the situation. He stood up straight, now fully awake. He had sweated a lot during his sleep and now his shirt smelled like piss. He quickly undressed and got a new pair of pants and a shirt. He cussed that he couldn't at least get a bath. He ran up to the command center carrying his duffel bag only to find it empty.

"Shit." He muttered to himself. Everyone has left already left except for him. He ran out and down the flight of stairs to the garage. He fumbled his pockets for his keys. Once he found them, he quickly got it out and opened his car door. He started it and it took a minute or two before it was up and running. He stepped on the gas and sped his way to the scene. He had his siren on, going through busy streets. He still hadn't had the slightest clue at what was happening. He tried to contact the others on his com but nobody responded. This got Collin more worried. It took a good 15 minutes before Collin got to the scene. He stopped a couple of blocks away from the actually place of emergency and observed the situation. It was some guy with ice coming out of his fingertips causing trouble. He lifted his bag out of his car and ran towards the fight but once he got there, he hid in a back alley. He observed the situation more closely, trying to figure out how to successfully apprehend the guy. He got something out of the bag, a pump action shotgun loaded with beany-bags to subdue the bastard. He locked and loaded the gun.

"This is Bloodhound." Collin said over the coms. "How can I help?" He asked.

"Get your ass over here and do something," Orren snarled at Bloodhound into his headset as he dodged a rogue iceblast. He made a lunge at the ice villain, blades made of blood erupting from his hands. However, he found it hard to get close enough to do any actual damage without getting frozen. After a couple close calls, Dylan surprisingly stepped up to plate to try and subdue the guy.

The clown's hands raised as he created whatever personal hell the iceman feared. Frostbite paused and looked around, confused and scared, before turning to run down an alley. Well, that wasn't the plan, but maybe they could corner him. Pierrot pursued, his stupid jester hat jingling as he ran. He entered the side alley to find the villain waiting for him at the other end. Pierrot hesitated before jogging to catch up with him. Frostbite lifted a hand, and suddenly one foot was unable to move. Dylan fell, his right ankle giving a nasty crack. His foot was frozen to the ground, his ankle broken from the fall. The villain only cackled and went to rejoin the fight.

Pierrot let out a pained whimper as he tried to pull his foot free, but to not avail. "Firefly!" He called out Per's alias in hopes that she'd come free him; he doubted it. Last he checked, she still had a phobia of clowns.

Before Fallout could even think, he found himself covered in ice. John couldn't budge at all within the thick layers of ice that had surrounded his armored body in an instant. Fallout, try as he did, could not find any traction on which he could brace himself to break through this prison he found himself in."They will come. When they do, they will break you." John growled, watching as the villain drew a very strange blade from behind his back. Fallout smirked. That piece of metal would do little against his armor. He had to hold back a scoff as the ice man tried to strike him with the weapon."Do you think your toothpick will do anything to me?" Fallout's jest was short lived, however, as his internal systems warned him of potential hull damage. Confused, Fallout looked over towards the gash in the metal. Sure enough, he could see little icicles beginning to form and stab down at the metal. John had to think, and fast. If the ice penetrated into his suit, he didn't want to try and comprehend what damage could be caused.

A few moments before the ice would have cut through his armor, John felt a massive amount of heat rush over him and the ice melt away into water. Fallout's suit sizzled, steam floating up from the blazing hot metal and dissipating into the air. The others had arrived, just in the nick of time."Thank you." John stated plainly, before returning his full attention to the battle at hand. They had this guy totally out numbered, yet he still put up a fight. What a fool he had to be. Why was he attacking some seemingly random street anyway? It didn't make any sense. He could have hit up a bank or a jewelry store. A gas station would have given him more profit than this. This guy wasn't in it for the money, that much was clear. He seemed to just be..fighting. Fighting because he could. John shook off the distracting thoughts and watched as Orren and Dylan did their work. Fallout stomped into the alleyway, seeing Dylan crying out on the ground, was angered."Surrender yourself." Fallout sent a blast from his arm mounted laser at the villain. The laser would burn and cause pain, but it wasn't hot enough to cut through his layers of clothing and skin to do any lasting damage.

The man barely seemed to notice her. She managed to melt the ice prison no problem, and by the time Fallout was free, the man had disappeared down the alley. Dylan followed, and then the first villain reappeared. Fallout and Firefly followed the others over in his direction, and then paused to notice Dylan. The idiot had gone and gotten himself stuck, as well as hurt. His foot, encased in ice, was bent at an odd angle with his leg. The sight made Per's stomach roll, and she paused at her name. Her eyes shot between Dylan, Fallout, and the villain. Dylan was stuck, and he wasn't about to get himself out. Fallout took one look at him and then turned back to the fight, yelling at the iceman. The others were trying to subdue him. She really didn't want to be in an alleyway alone with Dylan. She really really didn't want to fight this guy. But both Dylan and the others needed her. Her eyes flicked between the two, her body frozen in dilemma.

And then, for a very brief moment, Dylan didn't look like a terrifying monster. He looked like a goofy kid playing dress up who had gotten himself into serious trouble. He looked hurt.

Within a second, Per had reached him and the ice holding his foot against the ground was turning to water. Her hands were blazing fires, trying to burn out the ice as quick as she could. She wanted to get out of this alley, now. She didn't look at Dylan once, afraid she might decide she was wrong and abandon him for the fight. Normally he was bad, but in his costume? Alone in an alley? Surrounded by ice? The situation couldn't get much worse.

Until it did. Suddenly a small can rolled over to the two of them, and before either could move a pink gas started to smoke out of it. On instinct Per scooted backwards and tried to kick it away from them, but it didn't budge. It was stuck to the ground. She turned to Dylan - they needed to get up and out of there now. Her eyes landed on his bright face, and then all of the colors smeared together and the alley turned sideways, and something hit her left side and then everything was black.

Two men appeared from the shadows, darting out and grabbing the unconscious clown and firefly, before dragging them back into the shadows and disappearing.

If one had found themselves wandering the halls of mount justice they would of been greeted by the faint sound of a somber tune being played some where with in. If said one went to find the origins of these heart heavy notes they would come to the slightly ajar door of the Guild member known as Fenrir. Behind the door would be a dark haired man sitting at an ebony piano, his fingers seeming to dance over the keys. To the first glance one would only see a musician and his instrument, but that allusion would be broken the second one would venture a bit closer. They would first notice the dark haired man's fair skin, it being nearly grey, then they would come upon the monsterish claws that sprouted from his fingers and finally when the man spoke his sharpened fangs would be revealed. This would be the point when the realization that this man was more than human, or less than as other people saw it, would come rushing in. But Fenrir had long come used to such reactions over his years.

Simon snapped his thoughts from his inner monologue as he returned his focus on the keys of the piano before him, this had been Simon's daily routine ever since he joined the Guild a year ago. He would wake up early before anyone would begin their cooking in the kitchen and prepare a cup of tea to attempt to steady the animal instincts that would of stirred up do to the night before dreams of hunting, he would then retreat back to the solitude of his room for the comfort he found in his own domain. He would then spend the next hour of so playing what ever instrument he felt he needed to practice, today being the piano. He would next find his way to the mount's gym so he could further train his acrobatics skills, though he was already leagues ahead of most when it came to this skill.

Simon was just about to head to the gym when he picked up the slight buzzing coming from his night stand, it being his cell phone that he had connected to the Guild's com links. He walked his way over to the mobile device just in time to get the call for back up from his fellow hero Fallout. With a sigh of disappointment, Simon was hoping that he would be able to have a day with out having to fight crime or having to save people from some maniac, he made his way over to the coat rack that held a black button up trench coat. He quickly pulled it on over his crimson button up shirt and grey jeans, pulling up the rather large hood. He then kicked off his shoes to reveal his toe nails to be claws that matched the set on his hands. With another sigh Simon, now Fenrir to the rest of the world, bounded out of the city.

Simon made the journey to the scene rather quickly, taking the roof tops as his norm. The winter wasteland that laid before him did nothing but made the pale hero wish he really had fur. Nevertheless ventured forward to the point that he was on the roof over looking the only person at the moment that seemed to be responsible for the incident, seeing as he was dressed of the winter weather. He made sure he was still out of sight of the sub zero foe when he whispered into his com link. "Fenrir is in position to pounce on the target." He then moved into a pose that mimicked a wolf about to attack then leaped off the building and began hurtling down at the villain, his claws out streched to pin him to the ground.

The villain reappeared on the street just as the laser beam hit him. He let out a grunt of pain and stumbled a few steps before retaliating. His entire body suddenly grew an armor of ice. He turned to blast the radioactive hero with another shot of ice. Orren took this as his chance to make a move. He struck at the villain's back with his blades, the sharpened edges cutting clean through the man's coat and into skin. It left a nasty cut along the villain's back. Orren then moved to land a kick in him, but was instead greeted with cold, hard metal.

Frostbite whipped around just before Orren could deliver his blow and struck him with his crystal blade. The hero cried out as he fell, a bloody gash between his ribs. At first, it didn't seem like a big deal; he began to heal almost immediately. Then the crystals began to grow. Orren let out an agonized cry as the icy crystals slowly grew down into his flesh and organs. He was left writhing on the ground, defenseless. The ice villain looked rather smug.

"It seems you heroes aren't at all what you're cut out to be. It's cute that you try, though." By now, police were arriving on the scene and setting up a blockade. They had guns aimed and looking for an opening to shoot. Frostbite couldn't fight both them AND the heroes. "But I've got what I need for now. I'll see again real soon." With that, the villain threw up a large, icy wall to block off the entrance to the alley behind him. By the time any of the heroes could have broken it down, he would have been long gone.

For now, they had a street to clean up and injuries to tend to.

Collin was just about to turn around on the corner and aim his gun at the madman with ice cubes coming out of his hand. As he did however, he saw that the man ran into another alleyway.

"Goddamn it." He cursed to himself as he chased after the bad guy.

"Go corner him on the other side!" He yelled at the rest of the Guild as he ran.

He followed him through the alleyway and through another. He soon found found himself in another alley altogether. He tried to run back to the streets when three men blocked his path.

"Where are you going in such a hurry Bloodhound, can't we talk first?" One of them said.

"Yeah man, let's catch up. It's been a long time since we last did." Another one said.

"Get the hell out of my way or I will shoot you." Collin answered to the men, cocking his gun.

"You know, Big Mike been's looking for you. You know what? Why don't we all visit him together? A little get together party, just for us." The third man said, flipping a blade with his hand. He approached Collin slowly.

"You asked for it." Collin said in a low, relaxed tone and shot the man with a blade in his hip. He fell down and yelled. The two other grabbed their guns from their pants. Before they could aim it at Collin however, Collin hit one of them in the back with the butt of his gun and then the other in his guts. They were all crying out with pain on the ground. Collin called dispatch and told them about the incident. Collin then hurried out of the alley to find when he heard a yelp for help. He ran towards the direction of the call for distress. By the time he got there, he found nothing. Just a lingering cloud of pink mist. He got some on his nose and he sneezed uncontrollably.

He then frantically ran back to the main street only to find Orren on the ground, bleeding and a wall of ice on one side of the street. He carried he's injured comrade to an ambulance that had just arrived. He knew that Orren could heal those wounds he had but it was better to be safe then sorry. He took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He then proceeded to work with the cops to find any evidence left on the scene.

It was the heat that woke her up. Persephone wasn't very sensitive to heat; room temperature and a hot summer day felt about the same to her. But heat surrounded her, and it felt as though she had jumped into a large pot of boiling water. She rolled over, uncomfortable, and gasped. Where her skin touched the ground it stung, and half of her body was drenched with water. Her eyes snapped open and she pushed herself up to sit, and then watched as the world spun for a moment. It finally straightened, and her stomach lurched at the sight of her surroundings.

Ice. Ice, everywhere. There was a large Per-shaped puddle beside her, and while the water seemed hot it had not melted all of the ice underneath. Layers and layers of ice was underneath her - it must have been nearly a yard thick. The ice around where she was seated had already begun melting, and steam rose off of her body where she had been laying in the puddle. Her body was burning all of it's fuel to keep her warm and resistant against the ice around her, but she could already feel exhaustion creeping into her system. She needed to get out of there before she burned herself out. Persephone tried to lessen her body temperature to save energy, and turned to the rest of the room. The walls were covered in ice, just as thick as the floor. There were no windows. The ceiling didn't look penetrable. Was there a door? There had to be - how had she gotten in here?

She twisted, and her eyes fell on the door...and the man in front of it. He was clothed in a thick, furry coat and pants. There was a large blade attached to his waist, and his hair stuck up every which way. Her mind processed his image groggily. He was familiar, it was right on the tip of her tongue. He turned to face her, and it hit her like a snowball to the face.

He was the villain from just before. He had been throwing ice everywhere, and then she had saved Fallout, and then Dylan's foot was trapped, and then a can of pink smoke had rolled over to them. And then she had woken up here. It was clearly some sort of holding chamber, and it definitely belonged to this guy. The question was what she was doing in it, and how the hell was she going to get out.

"Ah, I see you're waking up, my dear," The ice villain cooed to his captive, bent over to peer down at her. "That was a nice trick, trying to melt all my precious ice, but good luck. I've been watching you heroes for some time; I know your limits. You'd burn yourself out before you melted through." He paused as he smirked down her. "I'd rather you not; it'd be a shame for such a pretty little girl to just throw herself away like that. Perhaps when I'm done with your friends, I'll keep you for my own." He chuckled and straightened up.

During his monologue, a lump across the room had begun to stir. Unlike Per, Dylan awoke very cold. His exposed skin was red from laying on the ice, the rest of his costume icy. His head swirled a bit before clearing up and processing what was going on. He heard the villain's nasty words and felt himself getting angry. How dare he talk to sweet little Per that way? Dylan frowned as he sent the man a nasty wave of fearful illusions. The villain jumped and turned to look at him.

"Oh...you're awake. I can't say I'm thrilled." He stiffened as Dylan hit him again, but managed to fight off the clown's mental attacks. "I sure hope your friends find you before you freeze." The words didn't sound very hopeful. With that, Frostbite turned and made his leave rather hastily. Dylan slowly sat up and rubbed his head.

"Are you okay?" His voice reached out timidly to Per. He knew she had to be terrified; she was already afraid of him, but now she was trapped in a room full of ice with him.

Oliver's bedroom was still dark with a warm body still residing under the all-too-cozy comforter. It was nearing closer towards the later half of the day and Oliver had hardly made any effort to get out of bed. "But later was better than not at all" he always reasoned with himself to make himself feel better for the shameless act. It didn't take long for the subtle sounds of the others in the main hall to die down and Oliver had a hard time figuring out if he had simply dreamed that everyone had already woken or if they really were already up and about. Unable to avoid the inevitable any longer, Oliver tumbled out of bed leaving a sad mess of wrinkled blankets behind him just begging for him to return. "Vile contraption." He thought to himself glaring at his, now, Nemesis as he dressed straight into his 'work' clothes. It was a snug fit and the black pseudo-leather cloth made a slim mold around his already lithe body. Opening the door to the hallway, Oliver stuck only his head out at first looking left and right but not catching sight of anyone bustling about. The compound was eerily cold considering how high Firefly insisted the thermostat sit at. Even through his suit, Oliver had a feeling that something was up and the answer to all that something would be where the rest of the gang had fled off to.

Using the GPS locators built into their communicators, Oliver managed to find out more or less where the rest of the group was, their signals dotting around on a small block radius. Using his skills to sneak on a public transport bus, invisibility-ing his way past the bus fare, an act which often brought scorn from Orren. All the way there, something was just so.. off. Something out of place. Something so obviously wrong that shouldn't be present. Oliver hopped off a mere block away from the group, blockades impeding the buses' progress, his boots making a crunch in the snowy ground beneath him. Wait, snowy? It was nearly summer! What was snow doing here? At least that explains the helpless heating in the compound. From the sounds of activity and effort in the street down the road, it seemed that they had already started the party without him.... Again... Though, that was more common than not. After all, it wasn't like they did a role-call at the beginning of every fight or anything and even if they did, it would be hard to miss what you could never see. Oliver concentrated for a moment getting into the mindset of kicking ass. But alas it was far too late. Usually by the time the boys in blue had shown up and started taking names, it was a sign that the big stuff was already over.

Oliver took a quick look around and kicked his studded boot across the ground disrupting a patch of the white flakes. Again something seemed to be strangely off.. His suspicions were quickly overlooked when he saw Orren crippled by a hit. Again Oliver cursed himself for not having been there sooner. By the looks of it, he could have been some use in the struggle. Wrinkling his nose and exhaling a deep sigh, Oliver looked around trying to replay the scene in his mind like a movie. A frost based villain, terrorizing a random street and in turn drawing attention to himself from the entire gang? Oliver could only come to one of two conclusions. Either this new threat was merely a diversion for something more sinister going on elsewhere that they didn't know about, OR, he was looking for something very specific in particular. There had to be something. GAH! And what was with all the snow! You could freeze a nipple standing out her for too long. It was rather distracting and made it hard to think. How could someone pull this off on the whole city? All the while, Oliver had been pacing back and forth trying to connect the dots when he noticed pair trails leaving dents in the 'snow'. At first he thought nothing of it but then he did another look around. Orren, Collin, Simon, Fallout... For crying out loud. For once he wished they really did do a role-call sometimes, a subtle look of horror over compassing his face. It was all he could do to flail his arms about frantically to grab the others attention, jumping up and down and pointing to the twin drag lines. Dylan and Firefly were missing.

Simon's plan to surprise the icy perpetrator quickly fell through as the criminal quickly made for his escape. The animalistic hero fell to the ice covered ground, landing on all fours, with a loud thud. He took a moment, which was all he needed, to take in the situation that was playing around him. He took noted Orren wounded on the ground and the sound of the fast approaching sirens, but Simon quickly returned his attention back to the fur clad villain. Simon sprinted on all fours after the perp as he ran towards an ally. The hooded hero was just about to pounce at the fiend, but his path was quickly blocked off when a large ice wall appeared, no doubt made by the very person Simon was pursuing. A monstrous growl escaped from Simon as he slashed at the icy wall with his clawed hand. Simon let out a sigh as the realization that it would be pointless for him to try to dig his way through. He turned his back to the ice wall just in time to catch the sight of Collin luging Orren to an ambulance and Oliver pacing back and forth. With another sigh the bare foot man walked over to Collin. "Got anything yet?" He said in a cool tone.

"Wish I could tell you something kid..." Collin paused, took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, took one out, placed it on his mouth, lit it and looked up at the sky as he took a big puff of smoke and blew it out. Collin had a problem with alcohol and tobacco. He was a chain smoker, consuming more than 4 packs a day. His doctor already warned him a lot of times to quit it or get some serious health problems but Collin couldn't find it in himself to stop. He then continued his sentence "... but I don't know much about ice. The cops would bring samples to the lab, see what they could find out. The results would be sent to us by tommorow or so. We already tried getting prints off the ice but it keeps melting faster than we can scan them. Hopefully the samples could tell us something about this maniac.."

He looked at the ice more thoroughly, letting his thoughts flow in his head.
"It's a hot and humid day today, a very hot and humid day. A lot of vapor in the air. That's where he must have gotten his source of water. Either that or he uses he's own body's water, which would dehydrate him a lot. In any which case, this guy must be staying somewhere with lots of water." He unconsciously told Simon as he pondered on the idea. He's attention was then caught by Oliver who was dancing in the snow, or so Collin thought.

"Follow me." Collin told Simon as he approached Oliver.
"Something wrong?" He asked. Oliver kept pointing at the alleyway he came from. "Spit it out!" Collin yelled in frustration.

Sarthis walked along the road that led up the mountain to the Hero Guild HQ. He'd been told to bring everything he'd need since heroes usually decided to live on site, so his only operational Cargo Pad hovered along side him, quietly humming. He'd loaded it well over its recommended capacity but he didn't feel like making too many additional trips to the mountain lair, it took a long time to reach the place when you were forced to sticking to countryside and back-roads. He'd grabbed everything he thought he'd need, from clothing to hygiene supplies. But most of his cargo was his armor, weapons and whatever included parts he could find. Last thing he wanted was some local to find one of his weapons.

As he continued his trek uphill along black asphalt he grabbed his data pad he'd left sitting on the Cargo Pad and continued his reading. It consisted of whatever he'd managed to dig up on the current residents of the Guild, wanting to get an idea of who he was going to be working with. He'd already read up on Ichor and Perriot. Most of what Sarthis had been able to find on Ichor was videos of him either fighting or yelling at someone, Sarthis wasn't thrilled at the prospect of working with someone that angry but he's worked worse he supposed. However Perriot had next to no information available, most he could find was an old traveling performance advertisement with his image on it.

He continued reading, Firefly, Kickstart and Zer0. He'd just started reading his dossier on Fallout when the large main entrance to the underground facility finally came into view. He placed the data pad back with his belongings and rummaged through one of his bags looking for a card he'd been given. Supposedly it would allow him access to the building until he could get his I.D. card. Upon finding it he approached a console next to the door, he ran the magnetic strip through the reader like he'd been informed and found himself slightly amused by the archaic technology. The console beeped twice before the large double doors began drawing open accompanied by the loud whirring of machinery. The Cargo Pad followed him through the doors, its gentle hum filling the brief silence that existed before the doors closed behind him.

He'd been told that the guild had been informed of his coming but his knowledge of humans, though limited, suggested he still announce himself since there was no one present.

"Hello?" He called, his voice echoing in the large room. "Is anyone there?" More echoing. He decided he'd wait a minute or so for someone to arrive before continuing in on his own.

She didn't even know he was there until Frosty turned to address him. She turned too, and her pulse skyrocketed. Of course, they had to take him too. Of course, he was still in his fucking makeup. Per tore her gaze away, trying to keep her breathing steady. The man was still here, maybe they could still get out. Maybe they could avoid being locked up together. But then the man spoke quickly and darted out of the room.

The door shut behind him and Per leaped up to it. The handle barely jiggled, and the door didnt move. She started to bang on it, but there was no answer and touching the ice that coated it was starting to sting her hands. She pulled back, trying to reasses the situation. She was in a room full of ice, alone with Dylan, who still looked like a clown. There was no way out but the door. She didn't have enough energy to try and melt through the door. Knowing Dylan, he'd probably get scared and forget how to use his power.

Per's stomach fell to the floor. What if he did forget how to use his powers? Images of clowns with violent face paint and live chainsaws dancing around her in circles, slowly getting closer and closer, haunted her head. No, they'd have ice picks, to chop away at the ice she would freeze under. Her breathing rose sharply, and Persephone squeezed her eyes shut. No, she couldnt think that, it would only make it worse.

And then he spoke, and she turned to peek at him. She was already shaking, her eyes wide with fear. Her breathing was short and quick, and at the sight of him, covered with clown makeup, surrounded by ice, and holding the chainsaw and evil smile Per's imagination had placed there, it pushed her over the edge.

She ran at the door, frantically banging and pulling at the handle. She was hyperventilating, adrenaline rushing through her veins and fueling her fear. Her fingers were moving on their own accord. She needed to get out, she needed to get out now. She moved to kick at the door - and then paused.

Kicking wouldn't do anything. Neither would banging. She needed to stop wasting her energy and stay calm until help arrived. It would, surely. They had a good team. Persephone, no longer shaking or wide eyed or breathing hard, turned to Dylan. "Are you okay?" she asked. He couldn't give off heat like her - he must be freezing.

-Hq-
Illos drops down, from a vent? Landing almost soundlessly behind the strange newcomer. "If your looking for the ragamuffins they are not home at the moment. But the kitchen is free game. That and their T.V. is quite large. Surely something can entertain you till they return?" The 5'7 woman paces around the 'Man' a raised brow. "Godzilla. That is totally your "Name" right? No no "Scales"? I feel like they would both be rude and insensitive, definitely something they would come up with."
-Rewind back before she came out of the air-duct-

The woman clad in her purple jeans and matching shades approaches the large structure. She lifts the lenses while whistling at the sheer size of it.

"Never thought I would just go in the front door...."

She slides a card and walks within the walls. A playful smirk appears on her purple lips, "When the parents are away...." The reason she is so certain no one is around is the strong telepathy she is blessed with. Even if shes not searching for a mind, she can feel them like that nagging feeling of someone watching over your shoulder. Illos wonders about the security that normally defends the place but the smell that lingers in the building comes to the forefront. Someone was a chef, seafood and bacon, an interesting choiceeee. She wretched at the smell of coffee, black as the soul that drinks it.
Quickly she begins going through the facilities, her suit alarming her to potentially hazardous levels of radiation numerous times. Traces of blood linger about in the air, unsual scorch marks.....She pulls at her collar as if to allow heat to escape, obviously this information being constantly brought to her attention was beginning to make her worry. Rather than keep the information incoming she opted to take of her glasses and slide them into a pocket. "And these are the Idiots who argued with me about the scepter? This building is a madhou....." As she went to say it she stepped on a hand. "AhhHHAAHHhhaaaits not real." She looks around as if someone would have seen her moment of weakness. Coughing into her hand she straightens her jacket before walking to the living quarters.
Though several of them are unlocked or even a step further with a door hanging open. She can only really work up the courage to check the room that reeks of estrogen, Orren's room......A few minutes later she slams the door and shudders at what she saw. "Ho-How does..." A few steps away she peers into one, spying makeup and a rubber chicken, she sighs and smiles. "In comparison to what I expected....Thats oddly comforting."
The next room spices? Ingrediant cards, and the food network left running? Another door she can't even open, but the Bio-Hazard posted on the door made her feel that this was probably in her best interest. She opened another door, finding it to be as painful cliche as they come! Its littered with various bottles of booze all at different stages of being drank and there was a rather wretched smell of old smoke....It wasn't just a smell! The smoke still lingered around the lights Despite how much ventilation the place had! She exited that room and took a deep breath upon exit, she could feel the lung cancer growing just from being in that cesspool.
The last room in comparison to the others was a lavender scent atop the suds of a warm bath. Fascinating honestly it would seem there was a sane one in the bunch after all. Time to snoop! She smirked going through drawers, a woman's taste say a lot about her. This woman was more a girl, so many comfortable outfits....Pish. A dairy should be around, she seems the type....She senses someone approaching. "Damn." Looking about she instinctively hid in the ventilation system.
As she began making her way though it she literally face-palms and reminds herself out-loud.
"I am allowed to be here...."

---Present---

She sighs fighting the urge to just get the answer from the newcomer she stoops to asking him. "What brings you here?"

Simon gave a simple nod to the middle aged hero, well middle aged if he continued his unhealthy life style, as his response. He couldn't blame Collin, nor anyone, for the lack of evidence or the frosty fiend's escape. Simon gave a look over his shoulder to the ambulance in which Orren was ,hopefully, healing in. As he turned back to the elder hero he was greeted with a face full of smoke, though he made no attempt to ward any off. "Those are going to kill you before any criminal will." He said in his usual cool tone before they both began down the street. As Collin and Simon started there approach to the late arrival Oliver the sound of Simon's clawed toes scraping the ice covered ground was the only sound to kill the silence between them. It was when Collin snapped at the boy Simon placed a hand on the Bloodhound's shoulder. "Easy." He said in a montone voice before pointing to the ally where Oliver was desperately trying to get the duo to notice. He spotted the two trails in the snow rather quickly. "He just gave us a lead." He turned to Oliver and gave him a nod.

It seemed like everyone these days had a simile for how they described life. A road, a journey, a box of chocolates, what have you. Oliver wasn't really the type to come up with one. But if he had to, it would without a doubt be a game of Charades. Even the most simplest of 'pass the salt' became a complex effort which would always get misinterpreted usually by Collin who Oliver felt rather enjoyed purposely twisting his translated actions into words. Oliver had tried everything short of investing in a robotic dog to speak for him. For a brief time, Oliver used a stack of sticky notes to communicate, taking them wherever he went and handing his words out like candy. Ironically enough, Oliver found that he had quite a lot to say most of the time and it didn't talk long for the hallways of their headquarters to be littered in a sea of various colored sticky notes. More recently, Oliver found that the best way to attract attention was to putz about like a fool for a while simply to get heads turning before even bothering to translate something. Sure it wasn't the most dignifying, but it worked!

His flailing ceased when Simon and Collin started to work their ways over, his face still held a slight strain of concern about it and Collins short temper with him at times wasn't helping. He swore that sometimes he just wanted to flip him upside the head and dunk his nose into the dirt... er... snow and force him to work the conundrum out on his own. Like showing a puppy not to piss the floor. But Oliver had better control than that and thankfully, Simon managed to pick up at least a small part of Olivers' intentions and proceeded to explain himself further. He reached out and tapped each of them on the chest and held up the number 2 on his fingers, switched over to point to Orren in the Ambulance and increased the number to 3. Then to himself and bumped the number up to 4. All this to essentially show he was talking about the group. Then he glanced back to the paths in the snow, held up two fingers, then turned invisible briefly to signify their disappearance. Surely even a monkey could understand all that! How could they not?

Orren was not a happy man. Human medicine was fine and all, but it didn't work well when the patient's incisions kept trying to heal. The EMTs had a hell of a time keeping them open long enough to pull out the crystals, now about two inches long and still growing. Orren, in the meantime, made little effort to hide his howling and cursing all the while. Once the crystals were removed, his wound healed just fine. He grumpily got himself up and went to rejoin his comrades.

"Goddamn piece of shit. When I get my hands on him, I'm gonna take that knife of his and shove it down his throat." A bit of a graphic threat, but that was all it was. Surprisingly, Orren was actually rather squeamish. He pouted for a moment before he notice the lack of half hearted greeting and idiotic smile. Where was Dylan? And the lack of someone standing next him, staring as him as if he didn't notice, made him look around twice. Where the hell was Per?

The blood hero walked towards the alley that a few others had gathered in. He looked down at the drag marks in the snow for a bit before he put two and two together.
"Oh fuck. Ohshitohfuck! He got them didn't he!" Orren didn't need to specify who 'them' was. With his two best friends missing, he completely forgot about his own woes and began to focus on the bigger issue.

========================================

Dylan watched as Per slowly began to take a graceful pirouette off the handle. She was losing her shit. If she didn't stop, she'd probably hurt herself. "Per, calm down," He tried to coax her, doing his best not to look scary. It obviously wasn't helping. She was practically clawing at the door like a trapped animal. "Per....stop, you're going to-" He paused to wince as she pounded the icy door.

She was on the verge of a panic attack; she was doing herself no good. Dylan didn't like the idea of controlling her, but he felt as though her may have to. He could make a person feel fear, but he could just as easily take fear away. He slowly shifted so that he put his hands up in a surrendering pose, wincing as he did so. His broken ankle was throbbing. It was swollen to about twice its normal size, dark bruises already forming all around it.
"Please...don't be afraid." He gently reached out to her with his powers, sapping away her panic and fear. It was for her own good, he convinced himself.

She suddenly stopped her mindless attempts at escape and turned to face him, looking at him in a way that he'd never seen from her before. She wasn't afraid. Not of him, not of the ice, not of anything. He was so caught off guard by it, that it took him a while to answer her question.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. ...Well, no actually. I think my ankle's broke." There was no 'think' about whether it was or not; it was definitely broken.