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3 yrs ago
Current Ay, mariposas, don’t you hold on too tight; both of you know It’s your time to go~
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3 yrs ago
Ay, mariposas, don’t you hold on too tight; both of you know It’s your time to go~
3 yrs ago
I hate dice. I refuse to elaborate as to why.
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4 yrs ago
Meat
4 yrs ago
SHINZOOUUUU SASAGEYO!!!!!!!!

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Corvus Rodin Helstrom, the Arclight





Location: Inside a dilapidated building
Interaction - Quasar


"Arclight!" Quasar barked cheerfully. His voice crackled and popped as though it was being fed through an old timey radio. "I'm so glad you were nearby. I've found the base of operation of some nefarious drug runners for the Tracksuit mafia. You know, the ones who refer to everyone as their brother? I believe if we worked together, we could make short work of it."


And just like , Corvus yelped, almost shrieked in a high pitch even. "Ah! Lord lovin... Bloody hell mate, you just nearly scared me to death!" Corvus had nearly slid and fell down backwards towards the dusty concrete floor at Quasar's sudden zooming. He swore that he just spotted the cosmic entity floating in the street below and now that he was nearly out of the door...

"Okay, okay, I see. Tracksuits, doing their typical business in the city. In Christmas season... of course. That's just par the course for them, bloody idiots. Alright, love, we will have to show these strangely wholesome yet annoying tracksuit wearers the reason why drugs are bad."

Corvus looked down, quietly placing his hand on a holstered pistol, causing it to glow in a gold shine, if only a little bit. "That, and I'm a bit bored with nothing to do. Alrighty then, lead the way, space person."




Corvus Rodin Helston, the Arclight





Location: Rooftop, looking out from a sniper's scope
Interaction - Quasar
Mentions: Picture Perfect, Archangel


I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you
You, baby…


The lyrics of 'All I Want For Christmas Is You' wafted in from a nearby restaurant directly below Corvus' vantage point, filling his ears with that same tune that had been nearly played a hundred times today. It wasn't like he minded, but he often wished that they'd switch to something else after the first fifty times that this song had been blaring out. He had often told them to try other songs when Christmas came, but alas… Mr. Alonzo just liked it a bit too much. Old man didn't want anything to change, and so there it was, ringing out for the 101st time. He would sometimes scroll through Picture Perfect's Instagram feed, but that was just to pass the time a bit more. He just had dinner...

Corvus peered back into the scope of the antiquated Lee Enfield rifle; a precious relic that had been maintained for the last fifty or so years. It was used by his grandfather during the Second World War, a soldier that had barely evaded capture by the Wehrmacht during the evacuation of Dunkirk. When the war ended and the soldiers returned home, the gun was kept at home, maintained throughout the years as a display piece. That would have been the weapon's continual state… until the Chitauri attacked New York.

Corvus quickly banished those thoughts of the past as he focused upon the present. There wasn't anything in particular that he was looking or waiting for today; he was merely on a sort of patrol. Criminals were plentiful in these parts, so days weren't usually dull. So far though, there hasn't been anything. Maybe Kingpin had been gracious enough to lay off for the holidays, unlikely as that might be. Or the mafias and crime groups had been busy in their own private celebrations, perhaps?

*Caw*. The crow sitting on his shoulder, whose name was Ted, complained, letting out several cries that would have been quite out of place in Christmas season New York.

"What?" Corvus glanced towards the bird after whom he was named. "I just fed you five minutes ago. That wasn't enough?"

*Caw*.

"Okay, you want me to get up and go to another watchpoint?"
*Caw*

"You don't? Then what?"

*Caw*

"You want me to give Archangel some food? It's not like he's easy to find, big wings notwithstanding?"

*Caw*

Corvus simply shrugged, peering through the scopes once again… and lo and behold, he saw the incorporeal form of Quasar floating around an old mechanic shop right across the street. It wasn't that easy to see, but he had sharper eyes than what was humanly possible, so he saw it, somehow.

He and the Quasar knew each other, to an extent at least. Ted was a bit iffy around the space ghost, but he wasn't all that too terrified. For now, at least.

"Now does he have a phone…? No, unlikely…"

Corvus sighed. "I gotta come down there myself by the stairs, then…"

The man stuffed the gun into a cloth covering, and proceeded to walk down the stairs of that dilapidated building...




Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite

Never One...

Without the Other


"You got caught for only killing ten men?" Ameliya asked in a bit of disbelief at Alfred, "you must have created one hell of a scene."


"Those ten men were undying, powerful sorcerers that, together, could level a city if they wanted.", Alfred curtly answered, lowering his gaze towards Ameliya. He didn't seem to be too pleased with trying to recall what happened back in Juneau, but the cryomancer and his spiritual symbiote did so anyway. "I was only able to defeat them because they weren't expecting an attack at the time, and they were all gathered in one place: the city council hall of Juneau. Perfect place for a lined up barrage of ice spikes to kill a group of powerful enemies."

Her hand reached out towards the little penguin, and the flame back in her hands flickered from her palm to her fingers. The fire then jumped from her hand and swirled around the small ice figure, melting into a tiny puddle.

Ameliya then looked back at Alfred, "Thought a quiet man like you would have been a bit smarter than that."


Alfred shrugged, seemingly not perturbed by the fact that Ameliya had turned his prized sculpture into a puddle of water… but he can always make more. "I'm not even sure who- or what, I am right now. Half-Human, half primordial spirit that wants nothing less than the total eradication of the fools that tried to shackle its power, bending its once hopeful benevolence into a twisted shadow of itself. "

One couldn't be sure if it really was Alfred that was talking now, or the Frostbite. It would probably be both, as they share the same mind, memories… even their quirks have melded somewhat. "It's fine if you don't understand. Not everyone gets to share memories with a ten thousand or so year old incarnation of one of the seasons, much less be the reason that it got free to begin with. Anyway-"

"Hey Alfie, here are your noodles." One of the guards walked close and placed a cup of noodles in front of him. "Spicy, just like you like them."

"Oh, thank you, my good sir.", Alfred answered with a slight bow. He immediately took the gift, slurping it in with the provided chopsticks.

"Why, ain't you the quietest and chillest inmate around here…" The guard soon walked off, getting away from sight. He was in a hurry, perhaps because it was time for his break.

Right now, though, Alfred was only listening. Waiting.
Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite

Never One...

Without the Other


“Maybe we can measure how strong we are; if we tell each other what our superpowers are? I'm curious what you guys can do?” She didn’t care much for the pissing contest they were having; she wanted to see if they were useful enough for her plan.


"Hmm, how do I say this…", Alfred leaned back on his seat, scratching his scruffy chin.

The Frostbite whispered. "Tell her everything. I want to see how she reacts!"

Alfred mentally sighed at the words of his companion… symbiote spirit. It was proud and full of itself, if nothing else. "I'm a cyromancer, that much is obvious from the ice cubes that I've been dropping into this glass of water. That's just the tip of the iceberg though. I'm conjoined, united with a primordial spirit of winter. I can let it out, transform into a phoenix of ice. In that state, I… it can fly around, freeze things to death. Frostbite is what I call it… since that's the only name it would tell me. Either way, it can be a bit cranky…"

He looked down at the power suppressor on his ankle, sniffing. "With this on, I can't transform outside my cell. Would be nice to stretch my wings elsewhere… I hope so one day."

“I can’t get them through.” She stated simply, and for a moment naked longing was plain in the little extraterrestrial’s gaze as she peered at his place settings. Of course, then Alfred winked and it took her a moment to realize this must’ve been a joke. It was appropriate to laugh now, yes? She laughed just to be sure.


Surely enough, Alfred let out a rather tamed chuckle at Kailani's antics, noting how she had absolutely no discomfort shoving those pieces of metal and ceramic into her mouth. He swore he could hear what sounded like the grinding of a hundred buzzsaws and welding machines from inside the alien to cut through the stainless steel… but a second of analyzing what was reality and what was not told him that was just his imagination.

"It really is just your imagination, but there is a grain of truth in it.", Frostbite spoke with a chilling whisper that was at the same time rather comforting. It was as if the cold nature of its voice soothed Alfred's ears and mind. "That thing can eat literally anything, save for raw energy, perhaps."

"She might try to eat my hand."

"One does not bite the hand that feeds them."

"Ehhh… sure…"


Were we to engage." He said, matter-of-factly, ignoring Körbl's actual question. "I would kill you. And neither you nor anyone else'd be able to stop me."

There was a cold circle of steel that pressed itself at the base of Charon's neck. His own personal Guard. It wasn't a typical threat however. The weapon itself wouldn't really do much to dissuade Charon when he began to "work". Instead the Guard reminded him of the actual deterrent he now faced.

"Fortunately for you. Unfortunately for me. I won't be able to follow through on that fact. Not unless the implant added to me is temporarily turned off. Or removed."


Alfred shrugged as the death threats were thrown around like candy in a children's party, except that the children were not children at all, but rather were a motley assortment of superpowered criminals that would kill and destroy at a whim. And there wasn't any candy in here… well, someone told him he smelled like mint. Who was that again? The cryomancer could hardly remember. Memory was a fickle thing when one's own mind is divided, theirs and at the same time not.

Ah, right. Vikky, one of the guards assigned to his cell. She handed him mint candy a few times as if only to prove that point. Frostbite said that she was probably some college student that couldn't find a safer job to pay off her loans… poor girl.

"Hmph, perhaps the moment you can...transform, then I'll definitely come back for you."


"Might be quite a while, then.", Alfred replied, spinning the glass that he was holding. "I hope you can catch up when I'm… flying."

Just about to send over the flame to the wooden spoon and get rid of such rude pointing, she actually heard a question that made her stop and contemplate. Her hand closed and the flame left with it as she thought out loud, "Hmmm 142 contracts, and I believe 96 requested for the target's death"

She then shrugged nonchalantly, "but if you mean outside of my work, well I didn't keep count."


Now the question was answered. "So the answer is 'yes'." Alfred nodded, flashing out a small penguin sculpture made from ice in but an instant. He gazed upon his creation, applying finishing touches where he saw them fit.

"Hmm.", Alfred looked back at Ameliya. "We both have quite the body count, but yours is undoubtedly higher. I count ten sorcerers, who had shackled Frosty to their will for centuries, and a few dozen of their cohorts and guardians as casualties of my… ehem… crusade. There are more in the list…"

“Heeey! What's crackin' ma homies? Randy, long time no see! Abby, how's ma girl? Lookin' hot today Amy! Hey! Even Frosty the Snowbird is here! Oh and if it ain't my favorite bottomless pit!”


"What in the ten thousand years of horrible, deathly existence did she just call me?"

"I call you Frosty too, though."

"You're the only one that's allowed to do that!"


Alfred shrugged. The entreaties of the Frostbite were quite constant, but he wanted something or someone to break up the tense mood that all the strength talk had created on the table, and the arrival of Iris did just that. Her manner of speech reminded him of old friends, some of whom can no longer be counted amongst the living. Damn the Cabal…
Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite

Never One...

Without the Other


“Are you done with that? Thanks!” She reached out, the cuffs jangling at her wrists as she grabbed his spoon and promptly shoved it through the muzzle without waiting for an answer. The metal crunched easily under her teeth, disappearing into her gullet in a mere moment.


Alfred didn't even get to say anything when the alien woman had taken his spoon and devoured it with a terrifying relish. It wasn't even edible. Just a stale piece of stainless steel that would have caused some serious digestive problems for anyone that wasn't an extraterrestrial vacuum cleaner… but not Kailani.

"The lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch.", Frostbite called out from the back of Alfred's mind, eliciting a slight chuckle from the cryomancer. "Look at that! She just ate your spoon! How… how are you laughing?"

"No, I don't mind, especially now that you've already done the deed.", Alfred said to Kailani with a shrug. The primordial entity inside him raged, but he ignored its furious petitions just for once. "Go on, eat the fork and the knife and the plate and the tray, too. And the glass. Wait, no, not the glass. I need it."

Alfred winked. She was funny, at least for now. He figured if he kept to her good side, she wouldn't try eating his hand. Or would she?

Rueyn had learned that this face of hers was actually an advantage in this kind of environment, and did it every so often to remind people that she was not human, not bound by human limitations and was still capable of ripping you to shreds, without her powers.


"Oh my, scary...", Alfred muttered loudly. Demons were something that the Frostbite hadn't spoken of, not a lot at least. It could be that it had a bad experience with them, or simply have not gained the opportunity to interact with one, not until now. Maybe it just didn't have an opinion on them.

Frostbite whispered once again. "Tread lightly with demons. They are terrifying."

"I know, I can see that. Though what kind of demon is this anyway…"


"Who amongst us...is the strongest?" Körbl this time said loudly, body readied and willing to jump into action. It's been a long time since he had gotten into a proper fight.


"Maybe let's set up an arena and find out.", Alfred said with a quiet voice, the usual kind. "Though I'd prefer being able to transform into my uh… full form, if you know what I mean. Not exactly doable when there's a suppressor on my ankle. Heh. Though it's probably you, anyway. We've seen enough to know that."

Nope, Alfred didn't really think that. He was just telling Körbl what he thought he wanted to hear and eventually steer the discussion into something less of an ingredient for a prison brawl that might see his book and noodle privileges revoked.

So she stared back at him with eyes that seemed to flash with fiery light as she answered him, "Well I don't know about the strongest, but from my experience, most men do tend to burn up all the same."


"Uh huh...", Alfred slowly nodded. "Out of curiosity, I must ask. How many have you... hmmm, incinerated? Mundanes, non-mundane, how much of each?"
Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite

Never One...

Without the Other


"Hehehe! He gets it!" before suggestively pointing down at his own lap. His giggles soon died off and, under his own breath, he said "Bonehead tells it better, I guess..."

With that, he shoved another slice of peach into his mouth. "By ah' way," he began as he chewed. "Who ahr yoo guys a'eeway?" His lips audibly smacked between each word. "I'uh Jack" He swallowed. "Jack Brennan. Entrepreneur. I'm a guy that knows how to get things," he lied. In Jack's mind, value was it's own protection. If Jack was good for something, maybe he wouldn't be given a hard time by the other inmates.


Alfred gave Jack a humorous wink on top of a barely contained chuckle, appreciating that he alone was able to receive the joke that the atomic woman blurted out when they had first sat around this miserable table in this miserable prison, with miserable food to boot. Add the miserable people in it, and their circus of misery is complete. Though as the Frostbite often said, many of these things, creatures of legend and myth, and criminals and killers of the highest order do deserve do be in here... but not them. The Frostbite and its host, no, its partner, only seek to destroy a council of villains, and their allied councils of evildoers that merely happened to be viciously wealthy, so that they may evade the clutches of justice with only the touch of a button. They should be out there...

"I'm Alfred Gunther, from Juneau, Alaska. And in here," he pointed to himself, "Is a cranky winter spirit that is as old as the world itself... Oh, don't you hear that? He says that you're... uh... 'more tolerable than the others'. Well, don't mind that."

Then a few more people came towards the table and sat upon the seats. There was that one known as Ameliya-

"Too fiery for my taste.", the Frostbite grumbled within Alfred's mind as the fire woman strode into view. "With that kind of attitude, she will never have a chance of escape. They will always be watching her."

"Aren't all pyrokinetics... hot headed?"

"No. My sister, the Summer Blaze, is not a fool."


Someone with a German sounding name sat down as well, asking for strength. Or rather, asking Jack if he was strong. Strong? Maybe, since he has the build. But why ask that kind of question here?

"Don't you recall, Alfie?", Frostbite once again interjected. "This one asks other prisoners about who's strong and then marks them for single combat. Truly a vain one, seeking to validate their own strength through comparisons with others."

"... I see..."

"I mean, if you want to fight, then at least have the decency to make sure it's a fair battle with both parties at full, uninhibited strength! Not like we can do that in these halls, but you get the point."

"Fair enough, Frosty."


Then there was the rotting ghoul, Randolph. Alfred made sure to gulp all the food down before the smell of rot entered his nostrils, since he knew that he would probably lose all his appetite if such an offensive scent assaulted his nose. So by the time Randolph actually got down, Alfred had finished eating, leaving only a clean slate of a tray in front of him.

A few other characters arrived in the scene. The so-named Arc Dragon, the demoness Reuyn... or was it Rueyn? Ruin? Ruyn- ah fu-

"We really talking about strength in a place like this?" She scoffed before shoving a spoon full of muck into her mouth.


"Furthermore, what kind of strength would that even refer to? The strength of one's punches, how much devastation can be brought into a given area, how much fear could be inflicted?"

Alfred dropped several icecubes into his glass of water and sipped from it. "Power cannot be measured through any one standard alone. And it is my opinion that brute strength is simply the least of all powers one can have. Ehem. Anyway. I may seem small and insignificant in appearance, but I had destroyed a whole council of sorcerers. One of the ten did escape, but the fool ran into a portal. Poor Frosty still feels unfinished about the whole affair."

“Ya guys should lay off on her; She’s been through enough already...we all have.” This got her a smack with the bud of the cattle prod. “Shut up.” The burned-hand guard shouted. Abby spat some blood on the tray below her; “Fuckin piss ant.” She cursed with a sneer on her face.


Alfred was almost inclined to say something as well, but held his words until after the guard was already far from earshot. "Well that went swimmingly...", the cryomancer said, shrugging. "Try to be chill with them, if you get what I mean. That's how I got them to give me my requested spicy noodles at lunch times. It's a good break from the muck we usually get."
Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite

Never One...

Without the Other


Alfred continued to create ice sculptures inside his cell, forming rather exquisite works of art. The other prisoners kept on screaming and shouting though, and when it got rather intense, a blood vessel in his brain twitched. A moment of irritation took hold of the cryomancer's mood as an extremely ill timed shout about 'killing every single little bastard in this prison' caused him to slip, shooting an ice spike towards the wall. He was by no means pleased by it, even if he had hardened his mind against the constant adulations and roaring that reverberated throughout the corridors of their deep asylum. Sometimes, too much was too much.

Alfred could only sigh. The well sculpted statue of the Frostbite's avian form had been marred, the horn on top of its head blown away by the previous blast. He was so close, as close as a master craftsman's thread through a needle's eye, only for some low-life to disrupt his concentration…

"They are lowly beings.", the Frostbite reminded him from the back of his head. "These… things. They are here not because they committed great crimes in the service of a glorious purpose or for simple retribution against ancient wrongs… but rather, only because they are degenerates that merely wish to kill and eat."

"Fair enough…", Alfred replied, reforming the statue's nose horn. "Degenerates, huh. That is a strong word."

"The Cabal are degenerates, and so are these creatures! You're the odd one out, or course, for our minds are in absolute sync, you are me and I am you..."

"Never one…", Alfred answered, applying some finishing touches to the statue just as the Frostbite itself finished the whole phrase, "...without the other."

"Maybe we should call ourselves Kindred," the Frostbite said with an eerie chuckle, "Just like that unitary being in that game you played…"

"They're the Lamb and the Wolf, it wouldn't make sense."

"You're the Lamb and I'm the Wolf, in that case."


As if in cue to end their inward conversation, the door swung open, revealing a pair of guards waiting outside. One of them wielded a flamethrower, while the other had a taser ready on his belt and the power suppressor on his hand. "Come on, Gunther. And Frostbite. Whatever you go by these days."

"You can call us Frosther, because we're one.", Alfred answered, much to the guards' bewilderment. "Oh, hello Terry, my favourite guard. Did you rebond your hair? You look fabulous today."

The guard with the flamethrower barely stifled a chuckle. Alfred had been one of the most well mannered inmates here, and was pretty chill. Chill… How fitting.

"I did, now get out of there and put the suppressant on, you're having breakfast."

"I hope you got me darjeeling tea like we talked about last time?"

"...no, sorry."

"Sad."

Alfred was soon escorted out of the cell and brought towards the mess hall, where villainous personalities and eldritch monsters mingled with one another. Frostbite always said that it was a ticking time bomb waiting to happen. Alfred thought the same, or perhaps not at the same time.

Sitting down, he found himself just opposite of the one named the Atom Bomb. He could barely remember what she was here for, but her title should say just enough.

And she told a joke. Cannibals and a clown.

"Hmm. Funny.", Alfred chuckled ever so slightly as he ate what passed for good in these halls, though he was granted those spicy noodles every now and then because he was so well mannered and nice. "Now that's a… fitting joke to be told here, where we do have cannibals and at least one person in a clown outfit."

The cryomancer kept eating, trying really hard not to make eye contact with anyone.
Alfred Gunther/Frosbite


While other prisoners were either screaming, scribbling random letters and numbers, or straight up just lying down on the floor, Alfred was doing something... different. The guards didn't really find any reason to come by his cell too often, as he was one of, if not the most well behaved of all the patients/prisoners sequestered within these deep, subterranean hallways. He'd usually just sit there, using his comparatively low end cyrokinetic abilities to make pretty ice sculptures. Sometimes they'd take the appearance of simply but elegant pillars. At other times, the sculptured were penguin statues; a mark that deep inside, he had never left that bit if his childhood, that loving adoration of penguins that Alfre had always possessed. Sometimes, though, he makes heads, with faces with utterly well crafted features, enough so that any onlookers might just recognize who these were.

"Juneau City Council... aka, the Cabal...", Alfred quietly grumbled, an equally sombre voice of dread winter speaking to him in the back of his head, essentially repeating whatever he says. "Cold, cold, what is cold, but the absence of heat, the natural state of things... unlife?"

The man wrapped his arms around the pillow, cuddling as if it were a teddy bear or a beloved pet. "They deny the Primordial Cold its vengeance... yes, they do. Must we wait for another year to finally have retribution? How long till we return to our dear mother, father?"

Dread silence, then another conversation with the wind. "Ah, yes, I miss the friends too. Though you have never met them, Frostbite... right, right, you wish to do so... no, the Cabal must be destroyed first."

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