Re: Harlem - Snow and *A Spooky and Mean Thing
[She’s too busy to notice the new arrival at first, her attention on picking off aliens, short and sharp blasts of snow knocking them out cold (ha) as the citizens escape their grasp. One tires to attack a boy but before her hands raise to attack, only to watch in surprise as he tosses it with a strength she wouldn’t have suspected. Then again, she’s sure that she looks more like a supermodel than a superhero, a sleeveless pale blue sundress instead of armor or spandex. Neither of them look like they belong on the battlefield and neither acting like they want to be off it.
The confusion and surprise is her undoing, the smile and then the pointing, only registering the attack a split second too late and moving quickly. The club misses her head but connects with her shoulder, a grunt of pain escaping her lips before she can shoot a blast of snow to the marauder’s middle, sending him flying in an arc. She hadn’t had time to care about where, and she hears a thud of a body on brick somewhere off in the distance.]
Are you kidding me? What’s wrong with you? [The words come in an angry seethe, the pain in her shoulder flaring, keeping one hand mostly down but not the other. The free hand shoots quickly, nothing as powerful as what she’s been giving the aliens, a fast and hard snowball to knock him down but not out. He’s just human, as far as she can tell in this chaos. An annoying, obnoxious, Mundy.] Use your words. Try to help more or get out of the way. [She rolls her eyes and raises her hand, conjuring frost and ice in a large, hulking shape, as she was originally intending. Trying to make something new since between screaming citizens and jackass bystanders, she needs another helping hand.]