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This was just frustrating. People were generally kind of weird, the ones who liked being around other people and talking and being social, but Iggy was on a whole other level. He didn't seem to notice that he was being slowly shepherded closer to the denser snow, though. If only because he was too busy making jokes.

"I don't have a code name. Nothing's stuck." Like snow in summertime, if he didn't work extra hard to cool things off first. Which took a lot of work when it was really hot. Also he was still pretty glad that 'Snowflake' hadn't managed to replace his name. It was too... sparkly.

He was so not sparkly. Except when he technically physically was. Like right now. Because snow.

Which was not the point.

The police were starting to look toward the alley by the time he felt ready, snow flecking from its mouth. They were too late, though, unless one of them could, oh, fill the sky with fire - but then they wouldn't be a police officer, now would they? He drew a slow breath, stilled himself,

and breathed himself into a hundred million unique shards, drifting on the wind.

His world shifted to a great deal of absence, rather than sense, purely aware of himself and the pinpricks of pain as his outermost snowflakes melted.

Gradually the pain resolved into an awareness of where he could not be, long panels running parallel with a maybe uneven plane between them. He could feel their ends in one direction, then end of the alley. It wasn't a straight shot from there to the guarded rift, but he remembered the angle well enough. Straight out, and then a bend to the right, less than forty five degrees but at least thirty-odd. He willed himself along the alley, and felt the places his self-flakes died grow smaller, and then vanish. Only the ground remained, spreading out until it was the only concrete sense of the world he had, no proof that he had turned the right amount or in the right direction.

Then there was the sharp pain of melting, hundreds and hundreds of points at a time, nearly overwhelming before it resolved into a moving shape. A person, a human, a cop. Waving arms, probably. He didn't have the detail to be sure, or the time or inclination to try.

Too little too late, on the officers' parts, however many there even were, because even when he couldn't tell what it was that was melting him - basically anything did, out in the baking heat like this all was - he was past them and moving and then

Hoarfrost was used to abrupt unconsciousness. This was infinitely worse.

Pressed against the too-clean alley wall, he finally took a few moments to catch his breath. It had been a hard run from the gym, back to just the clothes on his back the moment he saw the cruiser parked outside. Of course he hadn't been fool enough to run immediately, or to turn around and try to sneak back the way he'd come. No, he'd continued to the next light, and then turned as if that had been his intended route all along. Then he had run, cutting through alleys and willfully ignorant streets until his lungs burned the way they only did when he didn't stay in place. He stopped at a chain-link park rather than passing its fountain by, but pressed on again as soon as the worst of the summer heat was slicked from his face and neck.

He wasn't sure when the sirens had begun to pick up, or if they were even for him, but he had hurt that human pretty badly the night before. Logically, they would close in on him eventually. If that was now... well. He'd heard enough stories from mutants who had been imprisoned, falsely or technically legally. Or because they had actually done something unarguably morally wrong. It wasn't like he denied that mutants were individuals, and that some weren't such great people. That was because they were people, not because they were mutants. It didn't make them deserve to be harassed, assaulted, murdered.

He had plenty of proof that the law, and by extension the police, did not see that as just cause for his defence of other mutants. Unfortunately. Thus the whole running, and only resting once the sirens remained in the distance and his goal was nearby. See, it didn't make any sense to regularly test the law and not have any back up plans. This one was just a reality-warping gamble.

AV mode engage!

Individual

Character's full name: Aiden Brasil Killian
Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Hoarfrost
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Date of Birth: 4/2/1996
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Carmel, NY
Nationality: American
Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: Irish/Scottish/Russian
Appearance
Hair color and style: Straight and long to his collarbones; often loose but will be dragged into a ponytail while working. Base colour is black, but mutation-related scarring has left much of the right side ice-white; when messy, it just looks weird and patchy
Skin Tone: Pale Caucasian where he isn’t scarred silver
Eye Color: Left: dark brown; right: pale silver
Height: 5'9"
Build: Sleekly muscular, densely built onto a slender frame
Visible mutation: Normally, just the sheer whiteness of his scars. In the snow, well, he turns white with two silver eyes. Or just looks like... Snow. Because he turns into snow.
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Scars. Yes. Aiden has them, mostly across the right side of his face and skull and neck but also in scattered gashes across his limbs and many layers of split knuckles. All of these scars are a clean white with the faintest hint of iridescent reflection, rather like smoothed snow.
Other features:

Everyday clothing style: Kind of just whatever. Jeans, t-shirt. He’s not bothered by wearing torn shirts, but he doesn’t like wearing bloodstained clothes.
Uniform: n/a
Sleepwear: loose flannel pants with whatever shirt happens to be to hand
Miscellaneous clothing: Leather-reinforced fingerless gloves. He might heal but it’s still easier to just wear a little protection.
Character
Personality: Quiet and socially nervous, Aiden – Hoarfrost when he’s actively involved in things that the human-dominated authority figures frown on – really doesn’t seem like a vigilante. Or rather, he seems like he should either be that weirdo who’s always on the internet doing anime stuff or a psychologically disturbed serial killer in the making. People are stressful, okay?

And yes, he spends a lot of time intentionally hurting other people, but he’s actually a very sweet kid. He just cares (when he has the guts to notice and not flail and panic and make a complete ridiculous fool of himself) and it makes him mad that people are mean to each other. So he’ll beat them up, over and over if necessary, until they get it into their thick heads.

He’ll work on convincing humans that mutants are fine after he’s convinced them to stop attacking them. Baby steps.

Hobbies/ Interests: Dancing, fighting, and not overheating. Wait a moment, that’s all the same activity! People watching is also fun, and being around people without being forced to do stuff like… talk. He’s shy, okay?
Job or part time job and description: He cleans a dingy little fitness/sparring club and provides on-demand air conditioning in exchange for sleeping there and also food money.
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Really not very much. Participating in social stuff makes him super uncomfortable, though. And especially talking about himself. Or thinking about himself.
Special talents: Aiden’s a pretty good cook, especially when all he has it convenience store junk and pantry foodstuffs to work with. He is also good at not looking in mirrors! (at this point, mostly because his own asymmetry gives him a headache)

Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Well. Aiden is motivated by protecting others, especially those who supported him when no one else did. His loyalty is quietly aggressive, and ethical treatment of those who go against those Aiden protects is… of minor concern. If they don’t want to get beaten up, they shouldn’t be bigoted arses.
Mutations
Mutation Description:
[unchanged]
Physical Abilities
General Physical Capabilities: Aiden is fit and while he doesn’t build bulky muscle, he is strong for his size. And fast, and he trusts his physical abilities. There’s also the part where he regenerates when there’s snow around, and effectively doesn’t tire while doing so.
Fighting Style: Oh look, a fist in your face. And is that a heel sliding your kneecap sideways? Or can you not tell because there’s a bloody whiteout all around? Aiden makes quick use of his snow to blind opponents while bludgeoning them up close.
Fighting Style Pros/Cons: It takes some time to get enough snow going, especially in the summer, and it’s very distinct. Probably a running police file on humans who’ve been found beaten unconscious in a circle of snow at this point. He’s also very vulnerable to ranged attacks, especially sniping.
History Of Your Character
Everything was good as a kid, okay? He got to hide behind an older brother that most people liked, and his parents supported his shy, internet-dependent oddities. He had hobbies but not goals, for all that high school was fast finishing and he’d have to do something after that.

Aiden was saved from that, at least, when his brother rolled the family car with the two of them inside. The whole thing was… surreal. They’d been arguing, there had been… something. And it was snowing, and Conri didn’t want to pull over, he was too busy doing… something. Saying something.
Aiden woke up in the hospital. His brother was in surgery. And somehow there wasn’t anything wrong with him, at least until someone thought to tell the doctors that Aiden hadn’t originally had mismatched eyes and hair.

His parents were still freaking out over the news that one of their sons was a mutant when Conri woke up. If anyone would support him, even after the accident, it would be –

Not… Conri?

Two days after his discharge, while his parents were at the hospital visiting their normal son, Aiden grabbed his stuff and left. What good would come of staying there?

He eventually found his way to a mutant shelter in NYC, supported mostly by the internet and desperation, and found himself more welcomed than he’d ever been before. Sure, people had always been nice to him, but outside of his family it had been because they liked his brother. Here… most people didn’t pressure him to talk, but were around if he thought that being around other people wasn’t so bad, and it was okay to exist.

More than okay: he was encouraged to explore his abilities, and even if he didn’t want to do that around other people for ages and ages, that was okay. And the only negatives were applied to people who did things like exclude others just for being different. Like how Aiden’s parents sent him one text to see if he was alive, and never responded to his ‘yeah’ again.

In time, Aiden found himself drawn into a self-defence martial arts program, and found he excelled at it – especially when sparring against an opponent who couldn’t see in the snow he generated. The exercise and quiet community was enough to support him while he finished high school.

Shortly afterward, though, he got into his first real fight, a pointless thing driven by someone else’s disgust for mutants and someone else’s vulnerability. And once he’d seen the violence, he started to see more of it. Words and action and news reports, a world whose fringes he’d inhabited but –

Was this really the shape of the world? It was so… hateful.

And thus the quiet snow machine started spending more time with people out and about, still not talking much and frequently panicking if addressed directly, but quick to punch anyone who thought to make a scene over a couple of visible mutants trying to live their lives.

At least, until someone twice his size and just as fast punched him into a dingy grocery store’s freezer, and his world completely shattered.

Eventually the grocery store went out of business, and the power was cut. Their never-cleaned freezers dripped and melted, and then someone found this unconscious dude in the bottom of one and started a huge police file investigating potential murders.

Aiden was in a coma for close to a week, and severely disoriented when he did come out of it. Then the hospital starting to bring up medical bills, and he ran for it. He’s now living out of a mutant-friendly MMA club in return for cleaning and periodic air conditioning.

Roleplay
Where did you learn about this site?: YOU KNOW HOW. Possibly more than me at this point.
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: non-AV Aiden, Mercury, and Memo!

"You try making a snowball when you can't melt snow," he muttered. Iggy seemed to be enjoying himself, though, so Aiden stooped to pick up some more snow. He hadn't gone far when a flicker of movement, then of colour caught his attention.

Ah. Hence the element comment. Aiden didn't have much time to muse much, though, and threw himself to the side to avoid the rapidly growing sphere. It was very much a controlled throw, fluid and easily continued into a roll and pivot that brought even more fresh snow to the air around him. He launched a second snowball as he came to his feet, channeling his momentum into the lump of snow...

which at least made it closer before crumbling into a burst of tangled flakes. He'd have to get closer himself, which would give him less time to dodge but ought to give the light balls less time to grow as well. Aiden burst forward, bare feet sure in the snow as long as he kept his weight low, and ran with (some) of the uninhibited freedom of constant healing.

Snowball at his face.

Really.

Aiden swayed around it, throwing up even more snow with the movement of both his upper body and then his feet through the accumulating snow, soft and almost crunching under his bare feet. At this point, dodging was as much a habit as moving gracefully, but ranged counterattacks really weren't his thing. That was fine, though, it would just encourage Iggy.

Although... as excuses to stay in the Danger Room, in cold air, went... He'd just have to limit his exertion so he didn't black out when they did stop. He should warn Iggy about that. But for now he could try to make a snowball (harder than usual for two reasons: his hands didn't melt snow, so he couldn't smooth the surface like everyone else, and they tended to fall apart; and the snow gradually fused with his skin) and try to throw it.

It might have been on track, but it fell apart mid-air.

Aiden tilted his head at Iggy, the black hair falling in his eyes only added to his vague confusion. Should he be concerned about what was going through Iggy's head? There was clearly something growing in there, and it was probably going to be something dramatic and immature, even if Aiden had made a point of pre-refusing any safety protocol removal or dangerous simulations.

Or it could just be... yeah. Uh. Aiden straightened a bit and blinked. Slowly. "You've seen the gist of what I can do at least three times already. Most of my mutation isn't directly controlled. It's like a heartbeat. At most I can control things that influence it." And he really wasn't planning on working on his snowflake form today. He'd done a lot with it the day before; this was supposed to be his day off from that training. Because even if his body healed without issue and he largely didn't need to physically recover between sessions, his head was a whole different matter. "I'm really neither special nor showy. If you want to see snow, the Danger Room can do that." It wouldn't be hard to do. A quick voice command and...

Clouds drifted over the sky, not obscuring the sun entirely but throwing odd half-shadows across the expanse of ice, and then snow began to fall. And stick to Aiden, but at this point he really didn't notice. At least he didn't have to run around in front of this guy.