1964-02-26 - A Cold Snap
Summary: Log Summary
Related: None
Theme Song: None
thor carol colleen 

Donald Blake is having cash troubles. Mostly because he can't read very well, so it takes him an agonizing length of time to try and do math while also trying to read the bills in his hand. Amora had stuck a fistful of paper currency into his palm, and while he understands the /concept/ of paper currency, it still seems to baffle him. Why would anyone want it over good, solid gold?

So, the line behind him at the diner is getting very long, as he tries to count out change like a good fellow, and ends up making the entire situation worse.

Finally, he just hands two twenties to the cahier, a frustrated smile on his face. "Sorry, I'm new to this country," he lies. "Is that enough?" he says, sensing the growing unrest behind him as other patrons start grumbling about the long line to get a bagel.
Not too far behind Donald, Carol was just looking to get a bagel. After all, stopping Russian super apes is hungry work! As she peers ahead, she catches wind of the conversation, and steps forward a bit, "Here, allow me." She gives Donald a grin, and smoothly gives him back his twenties, then moves to offer the clerk a more proper amount of cash. And hopefully soon placing her own order, for that matter.

An auburn-haired young lady dressed far too casually is in the line near the confused man having trouble near the counter. "New to the country?" People might think Colleen is as well, her features with a Japanese cast. "The bagel only costs five cents. Here." she says and starts to offer the cashier a nickel when another woman steps forward to do it instead. "Thank you." she says to Carol, even though the good deed was not done for her.

"Huh?" Donald looks up, his expression embarassed— this is the second time a well-meaning lady has stepped up to help him bumble through the day, and frustration tinges his smile of thanks. "Er, I appreciate your aid," he says, with a very faint accent that's difficult to place. A leather daypack is slung over one shoulder, bearing something fairly heavy inside it. "I am still sorting out my way here. I am from… Norway," he says. A good enough cover, and one Amora had suggested. "I am known as Donald Blake. Well met," he says, offering Carol a handshake as he clears the way behind him. Colleen gets a firm handshake as well, a bit over-strong in fact for a 'polite' greeting from a gentleman to a lady.

Carol takes the handshake in stride, blinking a bit in surprise at the firmness of it. Though her own strength appears considerable in the grip as well, and she smiles, "Not a problem. Carol Danvers." With that, she turns to the clerk and places her own order, bagel, lox, cream cheese, and a coffee with sugar and cream. Glancing back to Donald, she hmms, "Norway? That's nice country up there. What are you doing here?"

"It can be difficult, moving to a new country and learning all the new things." Colleen says with a smile. "All the paper bills have numbers in the corners which show their value, if that helps." She might grimace at the handshake, but she manages to turn it into a smile. Her hands are not exactly soft delicate things, they've clearly been used for fighting for some time. "Colleen Wing. Nice to meet you." she lowers her head a touch for Carol.

"Visiting a …. old girlfriend," Donald says. Covering up something— badly, too. He's obviously not much for duplicity. "I am thinking of moving here," he explains. "I am applying for a job at Mercy Medical. It's… strange, being here, the way Americans do things. Very loud and fast," he chuckles.

There's a crunch and a BANG from outside, as two cars slam into each other. Donald frowns at the noise. "See, like that. Far too fast."

There's another CRUNCH, then some screams, and then people are running, and Donald starts walking towards the door with a frown on his face, a hand digging for his backpack. "There is something amiss," he states, in a stentorian voice. "Everyone, stay here, while I—"

Whatever he's about to say next is cut off as the glass windows all explode inwards, and crackling sheets of ice spring up in every direction at once. In the distance, someone cackles manically while the ambient tempature drops fifty degrees.

Carol blinks, then shouts, "Everyone, out the back!" Not that she seems to be the take charge type, as she is quick to take her own advice, heading out the back. And once out the back… well, she's gone!

Gone straight up into the air, that is, using her powers to transform into her Warbird costume quickly so she can get a better feel of what the situation /is/. And she then sighs, "Blast, never got my bagel…" With that, she soars over the building, getting a bird's eye view of what's happening.

"I find that it's more New York than all of America. Even upstate New York is much cal…" Colleen begins, but then there are car crashes outside. She peers around Blake as the windows shatter. The young woman has good reflexes, it seems, as she immediately hits the floor. It doesn't completely save her from being cut here and there from the flying shards, but nothing serious.

Donald has neither reflexes nor superhuman durability, and is badly slashed by the glass. It doesn't seem terribly /critical/, any of it, but it obviously stings and he bleeds from plenty of tiny fragments in his skin.

"By the beard!" he roars, in anger. The backpack drops to the ground and he hefts a weapon in his hand— a hammer with a head the size of a watermelon, and a sixteen-inch shaft. Norse runes and icons adorn it, and he charges into the chill outside.

Outside, a man is walking down the center of a completely frozen street. Dressed in blue with white fur trim, he wears heavy goggles and a balaclava, which somehow make him look even shorter and dumpier. Two hoses connect his backpack to the devices in his hands, and as Carol watches, he aims one at a car and a blast of supercooled air strikes it. Ice coats every surface in the path, even forming stabbing icicles as supercooled moisture freezes in place.

"The name's Commander Chill, and I'd like to make a withdrawal!" the villain cackles, walking right to the front door of the bank on the opposite corner of the street and aiming his strange contraption at it.

Rather than go out the back door, Colleen follows the man with the hammer. "Nan desu ka?" She slips a couple of times on the ice, but she is making a go at it. "Brr." she mutters.

The hooded fellow looks up, and growls through his mask. "Interloper!" he shouts. He aims one of the cold guns at Carol, and pulls the trigger.

Warbird abruptly gets a very up-close look at how the device works— because it stills kinetic energy in a massive, wave-filled cone, the air *snapping* as ice crystals form in the weapon's wake. The ambient air temperature near her abruptly drops two hundred degrees in less than a second!

Donald looks back at Colleen and gawks. "Woman, are you mad?" he demands. "You risk yourself thus? Run! Get to cover!" he orders her.

His loud voice attracts the villain's attention, and while Donald is busy haranguing Colleen, the fellow aims his freeze-gun at the big blonde fellow's back!

Carol hisses a bit at the cold, and actually feels the air solidify and freeze around her, trapping her in a giant ice cube that falls towards the ground…

… only to shatter about halfway down, as Warbird bursts free, a golden aura surrounding her as she now looks at Commander Chill. She fires a strobe flash of light at Chill, looking to blind him temporarily before anyone else gets hurt.

"Someone has to stop…" She looks up to spy Warbird in the sky. "She'll…" Collen seems to be having trouble completing thoughts in all the chaos. As the villian turns to aim at Blake, she does manage one. "Look out!" Colleen shouts and tries to push Donald out of the way of the blast she thinks is coming.

Donald is surprisingly heavy and dense, but Colleen's stronger than she looks, /and/ has good balnce. He grunts in surprise and falls down, Colleen atop him, and both narrowly avoid the wavelengths of Chill's gun. It snap freezes the wall behind them, and one window pain shatters violently as it abruptly is frozen to near absolute zero.

"Are you hurt?" Donald asks Colleen, trying to shield her with his arm from the glass.

Chill is wearing heavy, dark goggles, the sort usually worn by Alpine skiers, but he flinches away from Carol's blast of light, out of reflex. He raises his leftmost gun at her and tries to lead her flight, then fires another, broad cone of null energy at her. It's much more dispersed than before, and less potent, but every exposure to that bizarre weapon drains her internal reserves of energy as her body compensates for the drop inpower.

Warbird frowns a bit, then decides to just cut to the heart of the matter, flying down to land in front of Commander Chill. "/I'll/ take that, thank you very much." She moves to grab the weapon right out of his hand, reaching out to take Chill by the throat, "I think you've caused enough trouble for one day. Now, surrender, if you don't mind."

"Oof" Collen grunts as she ends up in a pile with Donald. "I'm alright. Are you?" she asks after the other window is finished spraying glass everywhere. She works on standing up, the ice on the ground making this somewhat difficult, but she reaches down to try to help Donald up as well. "Let's…" she starts, but then Warbird is taking care of the problem.

Chill cries protest when Carol rips away his gun, and then *gaks* when she grabs his throat. He wraps one gloved hand around her wrist, and flails and kicks.

"Put me down, you— you!"

He doesn't seem to find the words, but what he DOES to is jam a wire into his glove and grip her wrist, tight. Null-energy floods into Carol's body as he starts neutralizing her internal energy reserves, now clinging to her wrist like a limpet as he tries to drain her powers!

"Come! She may need help!" Donald shouts. He offers Colleen one hand in help, and hoists his hammer in the other to charge— slipping and skating— across the ice.

Warbird gasps, and instinctively fires a concussive blast at Chill, knocking him free and clear of her… and probably for a loop as she gasps, sinking to one knee as she tries to clear her head. She glances over at Donald, rising shakily to her feet as she says, "There… a reactor nearby…" She looks a bit wobbly, which is an unusual sight.

"Whoa." Colleen exclaims as she slips and slides along with Donald. "She looks like she might not be well." Luckily the villain has been knocked free of Warbird now. "Almost there…" she's headed for Chill as well.

Donald eyes Colleen, and in a moment, decides to trust her. "Get him!" he barks at her, even as Commander Chill goes flying. He's stunned by the impact, and staggers to his knees as he tries to get his bearings, throw a good dozen yards by Carol's blast.

Donald rushes to Carol's side, scooping her up like an athlete recovering a football, and continues his path until they're both behind a low wall. "Are you injured?" he asks Carol, helping her right herself.

Chill, meanwhile, starts trying to fumblingly hook his ray-gun back to his backpack, leavinig him momentarily vulnerable as the task is hampered by heavy gloves.

Warbird shakes her head, "Yeah, just that cold energy depleting my reserves… know where I can get a quick charge of electricity?" She grins faintly, not expecting a serious answer as she glances around, trying to figure out where there's something to absorb.

Colleen judges the distance between her and Chill and aims a flying kick at him. If she connects, the red-head is going to fall on the ice anyway, so she intends to go down in a heap with the parka-wearing villain and pummel him until she can knock away his devices, or at least to not get blasted until an opportunity comes.


Donald looks around, kneeling, then grips his hammer and holds it at arm's length. He closes his eyes, muttering, and tries to focus himself.

"Lord Thor, hear my prayer," he mutters, obviously feeling a bit foolish. "Please bless this hammer with your power, so I might strike your enemies down."

For a moment, nothing happens. Donald opens one eye. "I thin—"

And an earsplitting explosion crackles the air as a bolt of lightning travels from the clear blue overhead, smashes into the hammer, and arcs directly into Carol's sternum.

Meanwhile, Colleen's giving a fair accounting of herself to Chill. He has better traction, thanks to the hobnailed ice boots he wears, but she's nimble and fast, so it's a close match. He takes the flying kick in the ribs with an *oof* and staggers sideways, flinigng his gloved palm at Colleen. She dodges the blast of null energy but it sucks the temperature from the air near her, flash-freezing her skin. He curses and staggers, trying to get his glove back online— it seems she's interrupted the installation of the cabling to his backpack.

Warbird blinks as the lightning flies right into her, and she reaches up, silver sparkling energy seeming to form a brilliant aura around her as she hovers in the air, looking rejuvenated and then some as her eyes glow silver. She looks at Donald, and smiles a bit, "You know, you might talk a girl out of being Catholic if you keep that up." Then she shouts, "Ready for round two?" at Commander Chill, flying at him with impressive speed and then ripping the backpack clean off of the villain… and, for good measure, absorbing all the power that was /in/ the backpack for good measure.

"Ow!" Colleen cries out in pain as she finds herself with instant frostbite. "Baka!" she hisses at Chill. She struggles back to her feet, hugging herself for a moment, but she managed a fighting stance just in time for the thunderclap nearby and she goes down again, this time covering her ears as she goes to her knees. She closes her eyes against the blast of cold that surely is about to come, but then Warbird zooms by her and she opens them again. "Yes!"

"Noooooooooo!" Chill screams, as Warbird rips his backpack away. It contains no energy— merely an apparatus, which is easily destroyed. The ice around them is already melting under the spring sun, though it'll take some time for the thickest accumulations to thaw. Donald, moving like a linebacker, charges hot on Warbird's heels and the moment Chill gets to his feet, Donald decks him with a right hook that'd knock a charging moose down. Chill hits the asphalt with a grown. Lights out.

"Is anyone else injured?" Donald demands. Silver vambraces glisten on his forearms and steel adorns his shoulders, though he wasn't wearing it a moment ago. Partial armor, of some sort? He hefts the hammer warningly at Chill, but the fellow's groans are barely on this side of consciousness, and all he can do is whimper.

Donald offers Coleen a hand up. He's not badly injured, but all the cuts from the glass make a frightful mess of him.
Carol blinks at 'Donald', and tilts her head a bit, "Are you… both okay?" She catches the change in the bystander that helped her, and smiles a little to herself, "Thanks for the help, miss, it really came in handy when I was running low on juice there." She keeps a hold of the backpack, since… well, Fitz and Simmons are going to /love/ examining that thing.

Colleen is helped to her feet. She's cut here and there, bits of glass in her palms - all painful but she's not that bad off. The worst part is her frozen skin. "So cold…" and she hugs herself again. "Ouch." She does a double take at Donald, seeing him changed. "Are… are you alright? Is anyone else hurt?" she wonders.

"I think there are some injuries, but—" Donald looks at himself, then gives the women an awestruck look. "It seems my God has blessed me," he says, immense satisfaction in his voice. "I called for lightning, and he delivered it. I am a fortunate man, indeed, and the pain of these scratches will fade in time. I think the others are scared, but few seem sincerely injured. I imagine they will need but a stout drink and a healer's hands."

He pauses. "By the beard, /I/ am a healer!" he says, almost startled. "There is no other nurse present— seems that I must tend to them." He dashes towards the nearest injured pedestrian. "Do not worry! I will aid you."

"I need bandages," he concludes, lamely, a moment later.

Warbird nods, and lifts up the unconscious Commander Chill by the scruff of his neck, not too gently either. "I'll get this loser into custody. And again, thanks for the help, both of you." She gives Donald a larger grin, "I think we should probably talk, later." With that, she takes off, not too slowly either as she hauls Commander Chill off to the clink. Or, more likely, SHIELD custody, along with his fun toys.

"I should go too." Coleen says, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "The police will be here soon and I'd rather not answer a lot of questions." Warbird is off with Chill. "Take care." and she turns to make her away from the minor destruction and chaos here.

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