Mirrors of Ice

“You should come back with me to London sometime, you don’t get more fuckin’ fun than getting drunk and messin’ with American tourists, let me tell ya. Though I suppose I’m a tourist here now, aren’t I? Fuck.” Maybe that was why everyone was calling her about their pest problems. Elsa’s pranks on the Yankees that had passed through her city was finally catching up to her. She grinned at the guy, trying to imagine what that would’ve looked like. “I’m assumin’ you got the ice cream makin’ thing down now? Everybody needs a little bit o’ practice, no shame in that.”

Elsa caught on the hesitation on Frederick’s face. She was more than aware of the fact that her profession often garnered a similar response. It had only become normal to her because of her family history, after all.

“I’ve fought a Yeti, kinda in the ballpark, eh?” she replied. “Why? You got a monster in the freezer you’re hidin’ from me? Don’t hold back now, ice-cube. I’m more than ready for some excitement, New York’s been boring as hell since I’ve got here.” She paused for a second. “Wait a minute, buddy. That sounded a helluva lot like a Frozen reference. You’re lucky you’ve already bribed me with ice cream, or I’d fight you for that.”

She watched with a small smile as he went behind the counter, getting ready to serve her. She couldn’t deny that she was looking forward to a treat; after all, business lately had been tough, and she’d go without food herself if it meant taking care of her mother and little brother. Her smile wavered a little as she spoke, but it remained on her face, albeit a little more strained.

“It’s fuckin’ tough enough, I’ll admit that,” she said, propping her head up against her hand. “But I have people relyin’ on me back home. Can’t let them down now, not with everything they’ve done for me, ya know? What about you, got anyone you can rely on?”

“I think I’d like that. But.. not anytime soon. As much as I miss home, there’s a great deal of painful memories.” he said quietly. True his brothers death and betrayal had opened his eyes to what he now needed, but it had been an incredibly hard lesson to learn. “Well, I suppose technically you’re a tourist and I’m an immigrant. Neither of us is widely popular it seems.” he said, a slight chuckle to his quiet voice. He nodded slowly, “Oh yes, I can confidently say my ice cream is the best in New York. Many people have called it magical.”

He had come to New York to find exceptional people, he’d never expected to find an exception person who was from the same country he'd left. It struck him as one of those funny twists of fate.  

“A yeti?” he asked, eyes going a little wide, “I suppose it’s of a similar ilk.” he said after a moment, “Oh no, no freezer monsters, just two magic mirrors.” he deadpanned. The funniest part of that sentence was that he’d just told her the truth, not that he imagined it would be taken seriously. “Hmm?” he asked slyly, “Oh, well I suppose it was.” he grinned, “I always bribe in advance, it’s the safest way.”

His smile remained in place as he finished tying his apron and grabbed his scoop. He did enjoy this little business, after all he wouldn’t have chosen it for a cover if he didn’t. He didn’t care for ordinary folk, they were beneath him and his goals. But after years of hiding and eventually being vilified, it was a change to have such a positive cover and be smiled at more often.

“That about sums it up, yeah.” Wally shrugged. “I get most of the bad guys. But sometimes you just have a bad day.” He thought of when he was younger and more inexperienced, when his arrogance had made him lose track of too many fights for him to count. “Sometimes you get unlucky and someone has either the same powers as you or directly counter yours.” Like the Reverse Flash, or Psimon. He grinned at the questions, knowing that he had had the same questions when he first got his powers, and had the distinct honour of having to test his own boundaries. “Super swimming is more Aquaman’s department. Unfortunately I’m not immune to the crushing pressure of the bottom of the sea. Air would be the issue, it would be my bones being liquified at a million miles an hour. Which would be an ignoble end for my career, I have to say.” He offered a weak half-grin. “I like all of those things. But honestly, it becomes an addiction, this business. I don’t think I could walk away from it even if I wanted.” He held up the nearly empty pot of ice cream. “Not too dissimilar to this ice cream in fact. Rocky Road is hard to complain about.” 

“It’s quite the summation.” he chuckled, “You’re amazing. Everyone must be so proud of you, or they should be anyway.” He paused for a moment and nodded, “I can understand bad days.” He’d had a monumental one some time ago. It had led him here and he was still picking up the pieces, literally in the case of his mirrors. “Ah, well I suppose every power has something designed to work against it.” He hoped he never came across an enemy that used fire. His query seemed to have gone down well, and he was very interested in the answer, “Well I haven’t met him yet, I’ll be sure to send him a note in a bottle.” he joked quietly, “Gracious, I didn’t think of that. I suppose you can’y outrun pressure.” he made a face, “Sounds like an... awful end. Luckily that’s not going to happen. But you can run on water right? The surface friction I think that call it? Could you run on lava?” he sighed, “You don’t need to walk away, it’s all about balance.” he said, walking over to his counter and pointing at the ice creams, “You can live your life having only chocolate ice cream. Or only marshmallows. But, if you balance the two you have the un-complainable rocky road.” he smiled, “It’s a richer life if you play both parts.”

“Well then now you’ve just insulted my entire way of life.” He chuckled, knowing that the answer he could give is not the answer he should give. “I admire the people that can go out and stand up for the little guy like a vigilante does, but I’m not sure it’s my kind of lifestyle. Far too dangerous, I’ll stick to my trapeze.” He smiled with pride, thinking how interesting it would be if his family used their talents for civilian life. “Family gatherings are…. a handful.” Like the time Jason stabbed Tim with a batarang during what they now warily referred to as ‘the Battle for the Cowl’. “Sometimes we fight, but we love each other.” Dick nodded sympathetically, having rationalised his pain in a similar manner. “Just different. I like that. I think you can apply that theory to all of my family.” He chuckled. “I’m always on the lookout for new friends, I like to keep an open mind. You probably will see Wally, he eats a lot.”

“Living through puns?” he asked, “No offence, but I imagine you irritate a lot of people that way.” he said with a smile, “Still, every now and then you must get a chuckle. Well, you’re still braver than me. My idea of risk is mixing up a new flavour of ice cream for the shop.” and really, that was hardly a risk, his flavours were always good. “You’d never get me up their.” After Jessica leapt up a building with him he discovered heights weren’t pleasant. “It wouldn’t be a family gathering if it wasn’t. Besides, I’m sure none of you would miss it for the world.” he shrugged slightly, “All families fight, it would be unnatural if they didn’t.” Maybe he should add a little fighting to his enchantment for perfect siblings, otherwise things could get boring. “Exactly. Different. It’s been helping me get through recent times.” He smiled, “Well in that case I hope I’m making a good impression. Shall I send Wally your way if I happen to come across him? Tell him to look in the big top?” he asked still grinning.

“Oh shit you’re right.” She winced with a smile, dropping back to where she couldn’t be seen. “The only reason I didn’t fight them is because it’s broad daylight and they had one of their turncoat superheros on call. Wasn’t about to stay to figure out which double crosser it was.”

He chuckled quietly at her quick change, “Nonetheless, I have to say I’m thoroughly impressed. You are an exceptional young woman.” he smiled at her, though it faded at the mention of turncoats, “Yes. They do seem to have sighed away their free will, don’t they? Rather... spineless of them in my humble opinion.”

Gamora nodded at the statement, relieved to know that, for all its differences from the remainder of the galaxy, this planet still had that. Some things, she knew the Guardians could do without. Alcohol wasn’t one of them, and she was pleased that they wouldn’t have to attempt to do so. It would have been something of a mess; she was sure at least one of her teammates would not survive the ordeal. Probably Quill. “I don’t experience hangovers,” she muttered. It was one of the benefits of her cybernetic enhancements; Thanos had no room for such simple weaknesses in his children, and he did everything he could to erase them.

The man didn’t seem outwardly threatening, though Gamora was still prepared for a fight. She doubted he’d be much of a match for her even if he did attack, but perhaps the fight would ease her nerves. If it didn’t come to that, his ice cream may offer the same effect. “An understatement, I believe,” she commented. When he called the attitudes ‘monstrous,’ she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hardly the most monstrous practice in the galaxy. If this discrimination is the most savage thing you encounter, consider yourself lucky.” Men waving guns at her was nothing new. That was something she’d dealt with almost daily throughout her life. Monstrous was a word she reserved to describe Thanos’s practices. Ducking into the store, she watched the man as he entered. “What do you recommend? I’m unfamiliar with many of your flavors.”

“Well, aren’t you the exceptional one.” he said with a small grin. He was sure practically everyone over eighteen, or twenty one, he mentally corrected, would give a great deal to have that kind of power. He wasn’t that fussed, he didn’t turn to drink to dull his thoughts and pain. But rather, he went to work. Still, he was rather curious about the woman, it wasn’t every day one met an alien, even in New York. “If I might ask, what else can you do? Though feel free not to respond.” she struck him as a suspicious sort. And he could understand it. It wasn’t as though he were being honest with her.

He had not been expecting to hear from another of his ilk, so that was a pleasant surprise. John smirked. “Glad ta hear that. I wouldn’t want ta get off on the wrong foot wit’ one o’ me own. And yeah, yer hearin’ righ’. Liverpool’s my not-so home sweet home. Can’t say I’m homesick or nothin’ though.” Certainly not. He did not exactly have many fond memories of home, and John had been around so many different places now that any sentimental feelings had faded even more.

Judging by the man’s accent, he hailed from Wales. “So what brought you across the pond? Business or pleasure? Wish it was the latter fer me, but sadly it’s the former.” Well, that was not entirely true. John did rather enjoy his line of work–during the times when he was not in a life-or-death struggle with a demon, of course.

Frederick chuckled quietly, “Well, we’re a little harder to offend than most of the people here.” he grinned, “Seems you only have to bump into them on the street and they’re threatening to sue.” he really didn’t understand all the fuss. “I haven’t Liverpool in a while, the docks were lovely.” he commented, “I think I’m a little homesick, but I’ve been away a few months now, can’t really help it.” Besides, it wasn’t like he could actually go back home now. There was nothing there for him.

“I suppose both.” he told the other, “Though more just, life in general. I’m starting fresh, as they say,” he shrugged, “I do own a business though. The pleasure parts yet to make much of an appearance.” he added dryly. He was  looking, and hopefully soon he’d find what he wanted, then he could move onto his next plan. “What is it you do? Butcher, baker,” he rose an eyebrow, “Candlestick maker?”

She grinned and nodded. “Exactly. Variety is the spice of life and all that.” While she didn’t go completely out of her way, Cass prided herself on being an individual. It made it easier to stand out in the crowd, which was good for her chosen profession. “I think the fact that the stories remain at all is some proof of their reality. Clearly enough is true to perpetuate the stories, especially in times before things like the internet,” she added with a chuckle. Mulling over his words for a moment, she pursed her lips. “It’s not a comfortable thought, if I’m honest. But at the same time, it makes sense. Both externally and internally, you always view yourself differently than others do.”   

“That’s…decidedly dark,” she commented when he finished his story, her brow furrowed. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting puppies and sunshine after his daughter died, but man.” She contemplated his story for a moment before adding. “It just seems counterproductive to destroy everything around you as a way of dealing with your own grief.” She shrugged a shoulder. “But then again, I guess it’s a common theme in stories because it’s sort of human nature. Misery loves company, right?” She hope that she’d have that comfortable feeling of belonging someplace at some point in her life. “It’s good to be happy, but there’s also nothing wrong with getting out to see the world. You can always come back home,” she nodded. “And no, no shame. If memory serves, as a 10 year old, it was the best thing ever,” she laughed softly.

“It wouldn’t be a saying if it wasn’t true.” he said quietly, smiling a little as he said it. Before he’d have happily disagreed, now? He was of the opinion that all the ordinary folk did little else but bog the world down. Hardly worth bothering with, except when attempted to make life difficult for him and his kind. “Exactly. And there’s a similar theory. Several societies have ancient legends of children-stealing monsters and ghosts haunting those who wronged them long before they could have contacted one another.” he paused for a moment, “Makes you wonder exactly how they all came to the same archetype. Hmm?” he tilted his head and nodded softly, “Ah, but when has the world ever been comfortable. Besides, a little dark mystery keeps us wary.” And that was a good thing to be in these times.

“Yes, I quite agree.” he said pausing for a moment while she continued, “That’s a very good interoperation. It could also be said, that the king saw his daughter as the only true good in the world. And having that ripped from him, made the world a dark and cruel place. So he wanted to prove to himself that he was right to see it that way.” he gestured slightly as he spoke, “In the end, his mirror didn’t make anything new, just brought out feelings that people had but simply hid.” his voice quieted even more, “And that is the true darkness of the story.” And that was exactly what he would do to this city once his plans were complete. But there were many things he needed to do before hand to see that kind of result. He chuckled slightly and grinned at her, “That the funny thing about childhood. More often than not we remember the good in times even if they were a little bad. I tried making chocolate pudding when I was young, I know I was scolded for the mess, but I can’t remember that part. I just remember my big brothers pigging out and loving it.”    

“Maybe, but everyone’s definition of perfect is different.” Len pointed out and now he was imagining some otherworldly being with no flaws or something. Now that just sounded boring. “People really should do it more often, save a lot of trouble.” He chuckled.

Len raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure he deserved a happy ending, did too many bad things. Happy endings weren’t for people like him, but maybe, if it could give his sister one. “Sure.” He agreed with a short nod, “To happy endings.” His voice followed Frederick’s, quiet and calm. A mirror wasn’t money, but it could turn out useful. And favors could be just as valuable, if not more. “That’s an interesting gift.” He commented, taking a slight pause before taking the held out hand. “Why not, could be fun. Deal.”

“Just like no one can really match in their definition of justice, either.” he responded quietly. After all, all he cared about was seeing his own justice done. They way he saw it happening. “I quite agree, when necessary of course. It’s probably the reason so many superheroes never have a night off.”

“Everybody’s story’s at least a bit fuckin’ interesting. You’re tellin’ me you have no funny stories for me? I could tell you ‘bout the time I ended up passing out in Wales, half drunk, and woke up spooning a sheep. Think of the bloody ammunition you’d get on me.” Elsa respected the fact that not everyone had made peace with their past. Either that, or the guy just didn’t have a big backstory like everyone else in New York seemed to carry around with them. If that was the case, she was more jealous of him than she could say.

The longing for his home country was evident in his tone, and Elsa pursed her lips together, thinking of her own home. Boston was as close as she could get – at least her mother and little brother were there – but nothing compared to London. “You’re closer with the dragon there, buddy,” she admitted. “I’m a monster hunter. Literally. Look me up. No one fuckin’ believes me when I say that, they keep calling me for pests. By pests I mean ghosts, slime creatures, vampires, things like that. Obviously other people don’t share my subtlety.”

“Well thank you,” Elsa said, a little surprised when he held the door open for her. Most guys weren’t polite to her; in all fairness, she wasn’t polite to most guys either. But still. “I’ll take whatever you recommend. I’m sure you get a lot of fuckin’ business, it’s sweltering out there. The States are like a sauna compared to the UK. How’d you learn to cope?”

Trying to make a new life. She could relate to that. She sat herself down at one of the small tables and smiled at him. “New York seems to be the fuckin’ place to start over, doesn’t it?” she said. “Something like that. Tryin’ to get money to send home. Since Pa died, the estate’s kinda gone to shit.”

“Well, that’s the stereotypical Welsh trip. You haven’y experienced the country if you haven’t woken up hungover next a sheep.” he said quietly, the small grin on his face the only sign of his teasing. “I really didn’t do anything exciting. I just stayed at home, studied, played with my brothers.” the ones who’s let him down, who hadn’t been what he deserved. “Little things. I tried to make my first batch of ice cream there and ended up covering two thirds of the kitchen in a vanilla flavoured ooze.” he shrugged.

Frederick paused for a moment, finding what she said to be, rather unbelievable, “Really? A few months ago I would have called you insane for saying something like that. Now? In a city which was attacked by aliens and other creatures I find myself to be more open minded.” he chuckled quietly, “Tell me, have you ever battled an ice monster... Elsa?” he asked, again a slight tease but also a genuine curiosity, after all, he supposed he was a creature of ice himself. “Well, it must be a surprise to find that in the local yellow pages.” he quipped.

“You’re very welcome.” he replied, letting the door wing closed behind her. Manners cost nothing after all, he saw no harm could be done by being polite, unless you were talking to Jessica Jones. “I’m doing well now it’s getting rather warm here. It doesn’t bother me much though, I’ve always run a little cold.” he said simply, “Rocky road it is then, a personal favourite of mine.”

Was that a bit of irony she detected in his voice? Elsa raised an eyebrow in his direction. She’d never been the subtlest person, and for all of her defensiveness she was of the firm opinion that it was better to have everything out on the table. Better for people to judge her for who she actually was rather than what they thought she would be. “You got a story, ice man?” she asked. “Surprised you didn’t make a Frozen joke. Between the two of us, we’re the perfect target.” 

Elsa grinned. “Haven’t been in Wales for years,” she said, thinking back. “Last time I was there I was helping a contact with his pest problem. Though his was a little fucking bigger than that café’s mouse.” It had been some kind of variation of the Loch Ness monster. That was the only way Elsa could describe it. It was amazing.

A pun. Elsa could appreciate deadpan humour much easier than any other kind. She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Sorry buddy. Just checkin’, you know? Sometimes the cleanest places have to call me. I don’t usually deal in mice and roaches, put it that way.”

Thinking back to the couple of crumpled dollar bills in her back pocket, and how her stomach had been rumbling for days now, Elsa found herself nodding. Worst case the dude poisoned her, but she didn’t think that was likely. “That would be really fuckin’ nice,” she replied. “What brings you to the States?”

Frederick blinked slowly in the face of her raised brow, honestly he always been fond of the more subtle approach, to a point. Usually by the time he was blunt things had become serious. “Not an interesting one.” he lied, “And I’m hardly about to make a Frozen joke, it’s far too low hanging a fruit.” he chuckled, she had no idea how right she was with ‘ice man,’ “I like to put a bit more thought into my jokes, it makes me feel more intelligent.” he added with a small shrug.

“It’s a beautiful place,” one that missed terribly, but it was the price he had to pay for freedom, “Oh? A few errant sheep creeping into the local businesses?” he asked, again a slight tease to his tone, “Or maybe a dragon? We quite well known for those. After all, both are larger than a mouse.” And that was the only clue she gave.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, “Would I be correct in thinking you don’t deal with ordinary animals then? Things a bit more exotic than the mouse you were so annoyed with. Though it’s always worth checking for potential clients in everyone you meet.”

Wally laughed, always enjoying it when someone fawned over his powers. “Hell, if you left something on a plane a week ago I could probably find it in the time it takes for you to scoop out an ice cream. Luckily, having super speed comes with a few required secondary powers. In this case I’m able to slow my perception of time to within an attosecond. The condensed explanation is that I can slow down how I experience a single second to the point that it can feel like it lasts roughly thirty-billion years.” He paused. “I don’t do that all that often. Ever, actually. It’s a pretty damn terrifying thing to be confronted with.” He smiled softly. “I’m well aware I’m not the only one. I’ve worked with a lot of them in the past. And I don’t wan them out there without knowing that they can call on me if they need me. Besides, I don’t really know anyone outside of the heroism business, so it’s the only chance I get to socialise. Sometimes it’s not just about the world. Sometimes it’s just about the friends that have your back.” He leaned backwards in his chair. “Company? I’d imagine I can do that. It’s gone alright so far. As long as you keep supplying me with ice cream!”

One advantage to being in the “City That Never Sleeps” meant that it, quite literally, never slept. People were always up and about, no matter the hour. But for someone on the hunt for creatures of darkness like John Constantine, that was a bit of a detriment. Both because it meant there were always unsuspecting souls wandering about to prey on, as well as the fact that it meant there were always too many bleeding people getting in the way of a proper investigation. 

Fortunately, John had not come across anything truly worth investigating at the moment, so he settled for leaning up against the side of a building and doing a little people watching. Well, at least the teeming masses came in handy for that. Taking a drag on his cigarette, he looked up to see a person looking back at him.

“Yeah? Got a problem, mate? I think I got the righ’ ta stand here. This is a free country, an’ all. Unless yer wit’ the coppers an’ yer gonna bring me in fer loiterin’?” He gave a sarcastic laugh. “That’d be a righ’ proper welcome, and par fer the course fer me.”

Frederick missed an awful lot about Wales, the views, the use of the language, but most of all he missed the quiet. The Welsh countryside was quiet and open and a good place for him to escape and think on bad days. You had to drive for hours to find any countryside in this place. But it was the price paid for a new live, the life that he deserved. So he still walked at night, it wasn’t as though he had much to fear, and it was a good time to scope out shops that carried what he looked for.

He just happened to look up and meet eyes with a stranger and planned on moving on until the person spoke. Then he couldn’t help but smile. “No problem, and I’ve little sympathy for the police in this city.” he paused for a moment, “You’re not from here are you? Is that a scouse accent?” he asked, rather surprised at coming across another Brit in this place.

@akagoddammit

Ms Jones was the only one who knew of his plan, aside from Len, and frankly he needed more people on side. In the wake of the radio woman’s death it seemed as good a time as any to put forth his argument again. There were people out to kill all the gifted in the world, frankly he was of the opinion that they needed to strike first lest they be wiped out. He could use all the help he could get, and he didn’t trust other heroes to know of his plans.

But Ms Jones had potential, she could help, in the end that was all that mattered. So he did a little research, the most he could determine was she in fact worked as a Private Detective, how amusing. He got an address and paid a visit to the, less than welcoming, looking area of New York. Interesting, for some reason he thought it suited her. 

He gently pushed the door, finding it open and walked inside. Again, he couldn’t say it was the most pleasant of establishments, but he wasn’t here for the usual business.

“Ms Jones,” he called out, still managing to keep his voice quite, “I have something I wish to discuss with you.”

“I believe that as well but people hear the name Wayne and honestly what comes to mind?”  He asked as he looked the other over.  “Maybe second only to stark.”