6.13
It didn't matter either way as Krieg didn't visibly respond to the joke. From what the teenager could feel on his own end, the Teutonic terror didn't particularly react internally either, his targeted [Taunt] basically sliding off the man's composure. Well, dang. Yeah, too composed to let something like that get to him. Definitely a bigger problem than Air Cat.
His smile didn't waver an inch despite his disappointment. Still smiling brightly, Hardkour turned his attention over to Stormtiger, gaze not actually shifting much at all as he made sure to keep all four capes within his line of sight. "Been a while, huh, Stormy?" Aerokinesis. Mine is stronger, but my tricks… Nah, my tricks aren't on his level yet.
The tiger-masked cape grunted, fingers curled to claws at his sides in a slightly bent stance nearly identical to Hardkour's own. "A couple weeks, about."
The teenager nodded, thinking about just how often he had run into this one particular cape above all others. Just the odds alone… Hardkour took a breath as he pushed that thought away, leaving it as another thought to tackle when he had a free moment. One eyebrow raised, he shot Stormtiger a curious look. "Didn't you try to take me out last time we met too?" Shaker. Not a Brute. One hard hit takes him out of the fight.
Before the Nazi cape could respond with anything more than a grunt, Greg spoke up again with a smile on his face. "I tried to kill you too, didn't I?" Gotta shake him up. His smile widened, showing a shrinking set of sharp teeth that had yet to shift back entirely. "Said I'd fry you up real good, right?" Make him angry and I got this in the bag already.
"Yeah," Stormtiger growled, the rumbling of his voice actually able to be felt from as far away as Hardkour currently stood. The man edged even further forward, shoulders hunched as he stood in a form that could only be described as bestial. "That ya did."
"Kinda wish I finished the job, but anyway, Stormy — can I call you Stormy? Don't answer. I'm gonna call you Stormy — Stormy, this is like the third time we've met, huh?" Hardkour spoke with a shrug of his shoulders, trying to seem unbothered, casual even.
More like the fourth but he doesn't know that. "Look at us, man, who would have thought?"
"Not me," the older cape admitted, not relaxing his combat-ready stance even as he responded with a curt nod. "Definitely not me."
"Not me, either," the teenager shot back. He knows I can move fast enough to get the jump on him. "Honestly, if I had felt like it, you'd be pushing up daisies. Be real easy, too." Don't show off how much faster I got. Not yet.
He held up a raised hand, Krieg's gaze following his raised limb. "You know, one hard punch and I'd probably take your jaw right off. Hell…"
Greg cast a surveying glance at all the capes, looking at them as if seeing them for the first time. Blue eyes darted from side to side, irises flaring to life with a cobalt light four different times in quick succession.
Impuls Lvl 15
Villain - Empire 88
HP: 170/170
Status: Fearful, Anxious
Traits: Inertial-Shunt Magnitude Augmentation
Second cousin to Othala, she was in the city during the Bombings and managed to trigger when some ABB tried to take down both Krieg and Othala with a suicide bombing, causing a building to nearly collapse on them both. Suffers from anorexia, social anxiety and panic attacks.
Analyze
Krieg Lvl 35
Villain - Empire 88
Title: War Is A Force
HP: 380/380
Status: Calm
Traits: Inertial Mitigation/Enhancement
Krieg is one of the three lieutenants of the Empire 88, holding equal influence with Purity and Hookwolf, but possessing more intelligence, rationality and belief in the ideals of the Empire 88 than the other two combined. He enjoys Death Metal, spicy foods, and early morning calisthenics. Also, you know, murder.
Stormtiger Lvl 30
Villain - Empire 88
Title: Razor Wind
HP: 450/450
Status: Angry, Eager
Traits: Aerokinetic V
A cape with nearly as much of a hard-on for violence as his friend and boss Hookwolf, Stormtiger loves the Empire for all the chances it gives him to flex his powers against other capes. Also, wants you dead pretty badly because your continued existence and his part in it has gotten him in trouble.
Nordwind Lvl 25
Villain - Empire 88
HP: 600/300
Status: Eager, Expectant
Traits: Thermal-Inversion Kinetic Enhancile (Enhanced Strength II/Durability III)
A wannabe member of the Empire before one of Bakuda's slow-burning fire bombs forced her to trigger, Nordwind is a hybristophile with three things on her mind; villains, fighting and sex. Former babysitter, she had no problem messing around with fathers, as well as the boys she was supposed to be watching. Also, a big fan of hip-hop, but that's an even bigger secret.
Impuls Lvl 15
Villain - Empire 88
HP: 170/170
Status: Fearful, Anxious
Traits: Inertial-Shunt Magnitude Augmentation
Second cousin to Othala, she was in the city during the Bombings and managed to trigger when some ABB tried to take down both Krieg and Othala with a suicide bombing, causing a building to nearly collapse on them both. Suffers from anorexia, social anxiety and panic attacks.
Analyze
Krieg Lvl 35
Villain - Empire 88
Title: War Is A Force
HP: 380/380
Status: Calm
Traits: Inertial Mitigation/Enhancement
Krieg is one of the three lieutenants of the Empire 88, holding equal influence with Purity and Hookwolf, but possessing more intelligence, rationality and belief in the ideals of the Empire 88 than the other two combined. He enjoys Death Metal, spicy foods, and early morning calisthenics. Also, you know, murder.
What the hell powers are those last two? The blond thought with a confused blink as he received the results of his quick [Analyze].. I mean, I know what the words mean by themselves but together… huh. I get Stormtiger and Krieg at least. They're supposed to keep me from using my speed and strength but… the other two?
"Dang. All of you seem pretty, pretty… uh, what's the word?" Thermal-Inversion Enhancile?
"Oh, that's right…squishy, " Hardkour continued, a wide grin accompanying the emphasized word. That sounds like she absorbs heat to get stronger, but how does the boost work? "Just look at me, honestly. Stormy blasted me though a couple buildings and I'm pretty much okay."
Is it massive? Weak? Over time? How much heat? And how does inversion work there? He pushed out a mocking cackle of a laugh, fighting the urge to groan in frustration even as he played up his reactions. "For you guys, I probably wouldn't even have to try all that hard."
He let himself trail off as he squeezed five fingers of an upraised hand into a right fist, and took careful note how each of the capes responded; Stormtiger and the woman in the gray/blue costume both shifted into a more aggressive stance while the woman in green next to her took an unwilling step back.
Krieg, though…
Krieg just stared.
Wait… An odd thought popped into Greg's mind as he pulled his eyes away from Krieg and allowed his gaze to drift from person to person. Why aren't they moving? The four had remained in that odd formation from the beginning, Stormtiger and Krieg in the front with the two girl noobs in the back, each of them within a few meters of the other. It's been a couple of minutes. What are they planning? Surprise attack, sure, but they haven't pulled anything since then. His eyes narrowed as he tried to piece together what their intentions were. I mean, stalling I get, but if they're trying to put me down, they could at least try, right?
"This fight is not in your favor," Greg pulled himself from his thoughts as his gaze snapped to the cape in the modified SS uniform. The man spoke up for the first time, voice a grim and somewhat husky sound that rang with a slight German accent. "We, as well as the larger Empire, have numbers. We have resources and, of course…" Krieg's hands unclasped for the first time, hanging loose at his sides, "...we have experience."
"And?" Hardkour tilted his head. This is new. "What are you getting at?"
One of Krieg's hands went to his back as he held the other out in front of him, palm facing upwards. "This is an invitation for you to leave behind the sinking ship of the ABB and let the rats drown."
His voice wafted towards Greg, pose and tone expressing a poise that rang with tight control. "This is an invitation for you to join a group more appropriate for your talents, appropriate for your heritage. The Kaiser wishes for you to join him personally for a meeting, simply to discuss how best to nurture your growth."
The boy couldn't help it.
He snorted out loud, actually confused at those words and blinked in pure confusion. What are these guys on right now?"... okay, but this is like one hundred percent a trap, so I don't get how you thought that would work."
"This is no trap," Krieg responded calmly.
"You attacked me," Greg enunciated the word carefully, almost like he was speaking to a toddler. "Literally smashed me through a city block. How is that supposed to be an invitation?
"Stormtiger simply reacted a bit too eagerly," the wannabe SS officer said, voice tightening ever-so-slightly as he gave a nod toward his somewhat-sheepish looking teammate. "After all, were you not attempting to run us off the road?"
"...You're villains."
Krieg was silent for a moment, the man staring at the younger cape through the red lenses of his mask before allowing himself a tight nod. Then he spoke.
"Mass murder."
Greg blinked at Krieg's non-sequitur, the words coming out of nowhere for him. "Sorry, what?"
"Involuntary manslaughter. Destruction of property. Reckless endangerment. Evading arrest. Malicious vigilantism. And the assault of two Protectorate heroes, if I'm correct. These are the current charges the PRT has against you and I believe this is just a short summary." Krieg tilted his head to the side, body shifting so that he seemed to be looking down at Greg, even from so far away. "If we are villains, quite frankly, I must ask what you believe yourself to be."
Okay, fuck this guy.
A pair of bright blue eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Look, I know what I am. I also know that I don't want to talk to your boss, and why the hell do you think I would ever say yes? I repeat, why do you think I would ever join you sickos? Hell, you showed up with two noobs ready to ambush me!"
His eyes flickered over to the women in question, gaze rapidly switching between both of them in quick succession. Lower levels than Krieg and Stormtiger. Question both of them. Hardkour lingered on the timid woman in the green mask a bit longer than the other, her frail frame obvious even under the layered cloak of a costume the Empire had put her in. Her powers might be strong, but she…
She definitely isn't, the blond thought to himself.
She'll break easy. Use her for answers after Krieg, Stormtiger and the other one are down. A moment later, he visibly shook his head, a vague snort of disapproval leaving his mouth before he spoke again. "Scratch that, I don't care what you think. You're stalling and I know it. I just want answers. If I don't get them, if you don't tell me what I want... I'm breaking bones."
Stormtiger's response came in the form of a humorless laugh, the man's arms trembling slightly as he held himself back. "Shut the hell up, brat. You'd never even get a chance. Either take this offer or leave it."
"I already told you, I'm not joining your Neo-Nazi weirdo club!" Greg shot back with a mocking laugh of his own. "Now, answer my question or I'll turn you into a Fire-Stormtiger." Ughhh, that was terrible.
The tiger-mask cape growled again, muscles twitching from sheer rage. "You know, if I'd have known how annoying you'd be, I'd have splattered you all over that alley that first night I met you."
He was right, and Greg wasn't going to even try and deny it to himself. It was more obvious than anything, really. A level 5 who could barely take a gunshot and only fought up close going up against a hardened and experienced cape with blasts that could rip open a car? That would be an absolute slaughter.
But, that was then.
This was now.
"I don't know. You seem to hit like a pussy so I kinda doubt you'd pull it off," Hardkour shot back with another open-mouthed smile, grin widening as he felt his [Taunt] take hold. "No Purity to beg for mercy for you this time, kitty-cat."
"Beg!?" The chain-wearing cape curled his fingers into claws as he yelled the word with all the force of a war cry.
Bingo.
Krieg's gaze slid to his male accomplice, body language showing a lack of total composure for the first time that night as he tried to warn the man back. "Stormtiger, the plan!"
The black-clad Nazi's shout came too late, not that the other cape would have listened anyway. Stormtiger was already in motion with one hand outstretched, the grimace of a vicious scowl visible beneath his mask. "Fuck the plan! I can take him!"
There were no more words to be had as a blast of weaponized air launched from his palm, a massive translucent sphere on a direct path towards the teenage cape.
Lag 6.13
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"Fuck the plan! I can take him!"
If he had the time, Hardkour would have laughed right in his face.
Instead, the blond jumped back far, flinging himself backwards twenty or thirty feet to land back on the street again. He touched down and snapped his head back up, just in time to spot the mass of roiling air Stormtiger launched his way suddenly veer off. Greg darted away again, leaping back several more feet to make sure the blast wouldn't follow his movements.
Huh. His concerns went unrealized as the air bomb swung wide to the right, the entire thing smashing into a parked car with metal-shredding force. The turbine-like roar the air bomb gave off as it flew came to a sudden end, every other noise dwarfed as the sedan went up like a bomb.
Hardkour barely had the time to raise his eyebrows, half a second to take in the raw power. An instant later, Stormtiger let out another scream at the top of his lungs.
What the- Greg winced and gritted his teeth as the scream actually impacted him with physical force, a wide-ranging - yet somewhat weak - roar of Aerokinesis strong enough to lift him off his feet for a second or two. The shirtless villain followed up the roar of anger by launching another large air claw from his other hand, barely a second of windup before it was airborne.
This one…
Hardkour felt it before he saw it coming.
Aerokinesis was a special sort-of power, different from Pyrokinesis in a basic and fundamental way. Pyrokinesis was something he could turn on and off, a hose of power that sprayed fiery hot death at high speeds whenever he let the nozzle loose. Aerokinesis, though…
It was entirely different.
Air was all around him.
All the time.
Flames, he had to call up and let go. Flames existed around him when something was set on fire; that was when he could feel it. Air? Greg couldn't keep himself from feeling it anymore than he could keep himself from seeing when he opened his eyes.
Hell, half the time when he spoke, he had to be careful not to let the wind propel his words like a carnival barker on steroids. Instinctive and unintentional use of Aerokinesis like that was terrifyingly easy now, using so little mana for something so small that he literally didn't even notice the drain. At first, doing the booming hero voice had taken some effort, an actual flexing of his power, but now, it just seemed to happen without a thought whenever he put on the costume and took on that identity.
Sure, it was cool as hell, but deepening and altering his voice like that was firmly reserved for when he was in his White Knight costume. Using powers that belonged to his other identity was almost off-limits so that he could keep them seperate for as long as he could, even in his own mind, but Aerokinesis did its best to make that effectively impossible with the way it worked.
Even now, he could feel it at work. The rents in the air stood out to him like the tactile equivalent of neon signs in the night, the paths where Stormtiger's air claws passed by so glaringly obvious to his senses they might as well have been glowing.
Another one. Said senses stood out to him again as he felt Stormtiger prepare several more blasts, eyes widening slightly as he saw them coming.
He tensed slightly as [Danger Sense] buzzed a redundant warning. Faster.
It was about twice as fast as the last and that one had already been a good deal faster than the one Stormtiger had managed to land on him minutes earlier. In fact, it was so fast that the teenager almost found himself taking a slash of metal-rending wind head-on.
Almost.
Instinct nearly had him pull on the pool of gold light inside him the instant he felt it coming but he pushed down the urge as he clenched both fists tight. Instead, Hardkour forced himself into motion in a harsh swerve, body jerking in the opposite direction without leaving another second to waste. A moment later, the powerful bursts of air screamed past his head, the roar of wind overpowering Stormtiger's own belligerent vocalizations.
Can't let him push me back like this, Greg thought in a hurry, his plan for focusing on Krieg becoming less and less likely with every passing second. Speaking of Krieg… Wait.
The blond ducked another air knife, teeth grit, eyes narrowed and - Wait, what're they doing?
From the corner of his eye, he could see the other Empire capes still maintaining their same position, neither Krieg or Nordwind moving an inch as the other woman stood between them. Her hands glowing with a soft milky light as she rested them on both of their shoulders, it was clear that whatever the green cape was doing wasn't going to help him out.
"Wha-" Greg bit his tongue with a wince as he felt the air scream again, the sensation filling his thoughts at the same time his head buzzed with a warning of danger, the signal as irritatingly obnoxious as usual. Obnoxious or not, the pulse of [Danger Sense] rang a second too late.
"Hngggh," A slightly strained noise left his mouth as he stumbled slightly from the hit, a sound of pain more associated with bumping into a door or a mild headache.
Not something like a subsonic bolt of condensed air tearing through his sleeve and across his forearm with the force of a bullet.
- 72
Bright blue eyes shot over towards Stormtiger's direction. A half-second later, his eyebrows shot up as those same eyes went wide once again. Without pausing to think or process, Greg simply moved.
Buzzing blades of tightly packed air flew towards him — each one just a little smaller than the last, their speed increasing the smaller they became. Stormtiger hurled them through the air in an unfocused barrage, nothing as pointless as aim even a consideration as he carpet bombed the street like a madman.
+ 1 SPD (137 → 138)
Hardkour blurred from place to place, jumping like a rabbit as he avoided Stormtiger's air bombs. Each one pockmarked the asphalt where they landed, exploding with the force of land mines and with the frequency of a hail of bullets. Where they didn't strike the ground with explosions of gravel, they pulverized walls, grass, cars and sidewalk alike with the force of grenades.
"Shit!" The curse leapt from his mouth almost unwittingly as he quickly jerked his head to the side in a sharp dodge.
The move was perfectly-timed, aided by both Danger Sense and the instinctive air sense that came with his advancing skill in Aerokinesis. The teenager could only thank both of them for saving him from a sudden right-side-of-face-ectomy. Acting on instinct, Hardkour's hand snapped up to palm the side of his head even as he scrambled around Stormtiger's barrage. Roaming fingers confirmed what he already knew a short moment later, as he neither felt nor saw any sign of a wound. Regardless, he wasn't much happier.
Okay, his teeth met in a hard grimace, so we're playing it like that?
One eye twitching from annoyance, the blond's free hand twitched at his side, the temptation of pulling out the chipped katana in his inventory a powerful one. No. No. Greg shook the thought away a half second later as he darted past several parked cars to bound himself off the wall of a building. Even for intimidation purposes, the battered sword he carried around just wasn't worth it for a fight like this. No… let's try something else.
Hardkour let out a quick breath, focusing his gaze on his current attacker. He knew plenty about the shirtless Neo-Nazi in front of him but reading about Stormtiger was one thing. Aerokinesis; usually expressed in the form of explosive air bombs. His wiki said that much and a bit more on the cape, info like the fact that his aerokinesis was strong enough to deflect bullets and that the guy could kinda-sorta-maybe fly with it.
Watching Stormtiger's fights online was completely different. While he wasn't the blur of motion that Krieg was or the shining pillar of light that Purity came off as, the man still managed to be impressive on his own. Hell, he was rarely caught on camera for long, given that his powers were so… explosive. However, the little that was seen of him made it clear that his abilities were powerful and not something easily beaten.
Facing Stormtiger's powers in action was… something else entirely.
Stormtiger's powerful and over-muscled arms pumped like mad as the cape slashed pressurized air in Hardkour's direction, seemingly uncaring of his teammate's refusal to assist. In fact, the cape showed nothing but anger fueled by eagerness, all of that wrapped around a single-minded desire to end a teenager's life.
Eyes narrowed as he shot Stormtiger a piercing glare, the young cape only had one thought on his mind as he rushed forward, dancing around baseball sized air-bombs with a grace bordering on inhuman. No more Mr. Nice Guy.
"DIE!"
Another blast rocketed from Stormtiger's open hand with that scream, the Nazi's furious eyes boring into Greg's own as the cape cleared twenty feet in an effortless leap. Passing over the air mass, the teenager twisted his body in mid-air and frowned slightly as he caught sight of the angry yet determined grimace on Stormtiger's face that had yet to fall away. No point fighting air with air.
Still in motion, the teenager in the ninja costume brought up his open palms as he soared forward in mid-air. Stormtiger raised his own hands to release another set of his patented air-claws and at the same moment, small wicks of bright orange flames flickered to life in Hardkour's gloved palms. Let's try it with fire.
"Hey, Windkitty!" Greg flicked a single wrist forward, the small tongue of flame in his left hand roaring to life as it shot out from Greg's palm and rapidly grew. I really should workshop some jokes before a fight… "Eat this!"
The cat-masked cape barely had a moment to react as a firebomb struck the ground just in front of him, exploding past the size of a beach ball in an instant. The explosion wasn't too large, nor was it overwhelmingly loud, but it was undeniably strong. Strong enough to send a grown man flying, at least.
Unfortunately, Stormtiger was more experienced and capable than most grown men, at least when it came to cape fights. Hardkour simply narrowed his eyes at Stormtiger as the man stood with both arms raised in front of his face in an "X". He stood almost untouched in the middle of the street, entirely unbothered by the heat or the flames licking at the asphalt around him.
Greg barely had to even look to realize why, both of his senses confirming what he already suspected. Just barely visible in front of the man was a flickering wall of barely-visible air, the man having blunted almost all the damage with it. It was an expected move, especially from a man who often used air to block bullets in their path.
Even then… It didn't matter much to him, really.
His other hand shot forward with another expression of pyrokinesis. With a sound like rushing air, heat roared from Hardkour's open palm, the dimly-lit backstreet giving way to the bright light of a plume of raw fire.
Without wasting another moment, Greg rushed forward and jumped through the fire , heat of the flames barely even singing his clothes at the speed he was moving. His eyes locked on to Stormtiger, the man wearing a look of frightened surprise as he jumped away from the fire wall, still keeping his own wall of wind going as protection.
Hardkour touched down in a crouch, one unnecessary fist on the ground to steady himself, while Stormtiger was still mid-leap, intent on dodging the flames. The blond burst forward the instant his boots made contact with the ground, not holding back nearly as much on his speed this time as he rushed up to his hapless opponent.
As Stormtiger's boots met the asphalt, the cape barely had a moment to react as a figure blurred up directly in front of him.
He blinked. Shock and confusion was clear on the face of the E88 cape as the black-clad cape appeared in front of him, so unprepared for the sudden burst of speed he didn't even have time to bolster his defenses.
"What th-" The sentence shifted into a pained groan as a gloved hand pierced his aerokinetic shield like a knife through warm butter, five fingers like steel trapping his forearm in a vice grip.
Aerokinesis (Adept) Lvl Up! (19 → 20)
"This one's for the kidnapping."
Stormtiger swung his free hand forward with a grunt, palm roiling with two or three half-collected and semi-translucent blades of compressed air even as he instinctively tried to pull himself free from the young Brute's unyielding grip.
In another blur of motion, his other hand was trapped as well, the readied claws dispersing into nothing as his five fingers were locked in a tight grip with another gloved set. Stormtiger grit his teeth from effort and sudden worry as he took stock of his position with quick jerks of his head. Both his limbs were held hostage in hands that could dent metal, hands that simply refused to give, no matter how hard he pulled.
"This one's for the surprise attack."
His pale face whitened even further as the bloodied cape holding both his forearms stared up at him wearing a grin that Stormtiger normally only saw reflected in his opponent's eyes. His befuddled expression almost immediately shifted to plain horrified realization as Hardkour's restraining grip tightened enough for both his wrists to release uncomfortable noises in pointless resistance. "Waitwaitwaitwaa-"
CRACK.
"-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
A sudden sickening crunch and both hands hung limply on the villain's raised arms, the action itself occuring in one single painful instant. The muscular Neo-Nazi stumbled back on unsteady legs as he stared in pure shock at his useless wrists, mouth wide open as he creamed bloody murder in a pitch a man his size should be incapable of.
"And… Well, I guess this one's for making me bleed my own blood."
Stormtiger didn't even register the words. In fact, the still-screaming man didn't even look up before his chest buckled with another loud crack as a single foot made contact with his torso in the form of a powerful Spartan kick. For an instant, Greg could see the villain's expression shift from one of raw pain into blissful unconsciousness, before Stormtiget flew back from the force, his body sent skidding back across the ground.
One down.
A familiar pulse at the base of his neck urged him to move, a warning throb that ran from his neck all the way down to the base of his spine with immediate intensity. This time, Greg didn't hesitate to listen.
He moved.
To his left, the ground exploded from the force of a powerful crash landing, the asphalt cratering somewhat from the impact. Hardkour didn't have to bother to steady himself, Surface Adhesion keeping him steady but the teenager still took a sudden step back, eyes flickering between the new cape in front of him to the unmoving Krieg and the equally still Impuls with her hand still on his shoulder.
His gut warned him that the black-clad Nazi was up to something and his brain only made that gut feeling worse with what he knew of Krieg's powers. The man was a monster to fight with the way he could resist and deflect things. Not just hits; things. Almost everything had kinetic energy and the man could keep it all at bay.
Greg was drawn away from his wary gaze at the stoic Nazi as the cape closest to him pulled his focus. With an angry roar far more high-pitched than Stormtiger's, the figure in the center of the new pothole made herself heard.
"Fucking hell!"
She screamed the last syllable with a forced masculine grunt, one that didn't match her curves or anything else about her looks. The female cape rose from her half-crouch in the catered asphalt, arms out at her sides as the scant remnants of Hardkour's firebomb burned to nothing around her.
A second later, both her hands clenched into tight fists and, to Greg's slight surprise, his mana-born fire flickered out instantly, embers vanishing to nothing immediately in front of his eyes. The woman in blue and gray - Nordwind, he recalled quickly - took in a deep breath, chest and shoulders rising with the motion as her gray hood fell back, exposing her white-blue facemask.
She exhaled.
Greg tensed where he stood, eyes narrowed as two simultaneous shudders ran up and down his spine. One from Danger Sense and one, far more common.
With a sound like cracked glass, the crater Nordwind stood in was surrounded entirely with a layer of white frost, icy fractals appearing ex nihilo between eye-blinks. Similar patterns of ice raced up the arms and legs of her costume, the noise repeating itself several times in a second until it stopped completely as the woman's exposed lips turned a distinct blue.
Those same lips turned up in a vicious grin as a pair of grey eyes turned on him.
Oh. Thermal-Inversion Kinetic Enhancile. Greg's head bobbed up and down in an unintended nod as something in his brain finally clicked together, context meeting definition in a blast of awareness. So, that's what that means.
He only had a moment to think about that new information as Nordwind roared again and in a blur of motion, she jumped.