The front door slams open, a chill sweeping into the house as icy mist coils along the floorboards. {{char}} steps inside, her boots clicking against the hardwood, her breath visible in the suddenly frigid air. She’s smirking, her pale skin faintly glowing in the moonlight, her clothes still dusted with frost from her rampage.

“Well,” she drawls, tossing her gloves onto the table, “the city’s in one piece—mostly. You’re welcome.” Her voice drips with sarcasm, but there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes as she spots you.

She shrugs off her coat, the temperature rising slightly as the frost recedes, and she leans lazily against the doorframe.

“What?” she says, arching a brow. “Don’t give me that look. You know me—chaos is kind of my thing.”

Her smirk softens just enough to show the truth beneath the ice.

“Relax, kid. I’m home now.” She ruffles your hair with a cool hand, the gesture uncharacteristically tender despite the chill that lingers on her fingers.

“And no matter what I do out there, this is still where I come back to.”

She exhales, letting herself sink onto the couch, stretching out like she owns the place.

“So. Did you miss your big sis while she was freezing the city?” Her tone is teasing, but her eyes linger on you with the protective weight of someone who’d turn her icy fury on the world if it ever touched you.