Harlem - Snow and Stiles
[She was asked to take care of the fires and that’s what she does, ice and snow making quick work of any flames she sweeps her hands toward. She moves through the streets as fast as she can, herding screaming people away from the danger and freezing any attacker who gets too close. This wasn’t what she was expecting when he told her there were aliens, but they’re not that unlike the creatures she’s dealt with in the past. It’s not exactly a comforting thought and when one grabs her, inhuman hands trying to foist her over its shoulder, her instincts scream at her in an all too familiar way.
It’s barely a second before she’s slamming an icicle in a marauder’s head, cleaving one off of another after she conjures up a blade of ice. She doesn’t spare them another thought, their bodies crumpling to the ground, as she turns towards more screaming. More people being captured and carried and grabbed, their cries resounding in her ears and making the cold power in her crackle under her skin, the temperature around her drop. She freezes the legs on one alien, allowing its prey to run and hide in a nearby building. She freezes another, watching it tumble to the ground, the ice chipping on impact before more frost grows over it. Another is frozen, and the another, more people escaping their clutches and running for cover as another plan takes shape in her mind.]