Interview

“Hmm…” the reporter considers, “how good is your control of that ice?”

Shrugging, Wendy touches an ice sculpture, drawing out a short leash, making it copy her appearance, and focusing on having it mimic her, “How's this?” She and it speak in stereo.

“It will do,” the reporter hands the camera back, “the expressions aren't quite right, and there aren't as many of the small movements as actual people have so it's a little ‘uncanny valley’... but that's probably as good as we're going to get, given the circumstances.”

‘Right then,” the camera woman puts the camera on her shoulder, adjusts how she's standing to get the height right, hits some buttons, and gives a silent thumbs up.

Which is the reporter's cue, “Hello everyone, I'm Suzie Evans of Xavier: Your Evening Source for the news. We have with us a brand-new super, with a power that gives me the chills… in a good way. Say hello to the newest superbabe!” She then shoves the mic in the ice statue's face.

“Hi, I'm W…” Wendy pauses, “...Winter. I only recently received my powers, and am practicing to figure out exactly what I can do, so as to hopefully avoid major mistakes while actually fighting supervillains."

“Well, Winter, what a wonderland you've built! I've certainly been enjoying these ice sculptures of yours,” the camera woman pans around, taking in the ice sculptures scattered over the frozen beach as the reporter continues, “Clearly cold is your forte. So can I ask…”

“I'm Wendy Webb,” the woman chuckles, "I'm not exactly wearing a mask.”

“Actually, I was going to ask for a hero name…” the reporter smiles, “the whole targeting your friends and family’ thing.”

Wendy shrugs, “Call me Winter, I guess… look, I'm not wearing a mask,” ‘mostly because I didn't think of it,’ she thinks to herself “so my identity is already blown. Besides: Police not only don't wear masks, they wear badges with their names on them. Judges don't wear masks, and they're actively introduced and logged in trials. The **** and leverage thing isn't as big of an issue as people make it out to be.”

“Fair enough,” the reporter chuckles as she speaks, “so what can you do?”

“Stil working that out myself,” Winter shrugs, having her sculpture mirror the move, “I can create and control ice.” ‘I'll leave off that I don't seem to need to breathe, and haven't gotten hungry,’ she thinks to herself.

“Cool,” the reporter goes with the obvious pun, “So how'd you get the powers? What's your origin?”

Wendy shakes her head, “A stupid accident, I got locked in a freezer overnight and didn't die.”

“So an experimental nuclear freezer at a research facility?” The reporter smiles.

“Heh, that would make a good story…” the cold woman shakes her head and chuckles, “...but no. It was just an ancient walk-in freezer that was missing some of the important safety measures found in freezers that aren't over fifty years old. I was there alone, and it closed and latched behind me. When the boss opened up the shop this morning… I was fine, and had picked up my new abilities.”

“So what have you done with them so far?”

“Ah, I defeated a possie from the ‘baaad news gang’ when I left the hospital….”

The two go on for a while, getting into progressively less relevant questions and answers, and eventually they end the interview… with Wendy forming her ice fan blades and taking off.

She heads back to the restaurant when it gets close to time for her shift, only to find the place tapped off. She sheds the ice ‘wings’ as she lands, and checks in with her manager, who is standing around talking with a police officer as she comes up.

“...this isn't adding up,” the officer frowns, “try again?”

“I don't know how it happened,” her manager is frowning as well, “best I can figure….”

“Ah… hate to interrupt,” Wendy interrupts Amber, “but when's the store going to be open again? I kinda need to pay rent.”

The two people freeze as the blood drains from their faces.

“You look like you've seen a ghost,” Winter frowns.

Amber swallows, “Umm… but we… I found… you're…” she stutters.

The police officer turns angry, “Wendy Webb, do you know the penalty for faking your ****?”

“What are you talking about?” Wendy's frown deepens, “If I was deliberately faking my ****, would I show up for work?”

That brings the officer up short, and he gets out his radio, “Control, contact the coroner, please, over.”

“Putting you through, over,” crackles back, followed by, “This is Dr. R. Mortis, what can I do for you?” He pauses, “Over.”

“This is detective Dan Ger,” the officer has a dark look on his face, “please confirm: Do you have the frozen body from the diner in the drawers? Over.”

“No, she's out on the table,” the coroner replies in the radio, “I was about to cut into her to confirm cause of ****; I mean, ‘hypothermia’ is obvious, but we want to rule out foul play of other sorts.” He pauses, “Over.”

“But you do confirm you have the body?” The officer presses, “Over.”

“Looking at her right now,” the radio crackles back, “So yes. What's this about?” He pauses, “Over.”

“I'm looking at her too,” the officer confirms, “We thinking twins? Over.”

“I don't even have a sister,” Wendy frowns, “much less a twin.”

“Well, bring her here, maybe?” The coroner suggests, “we can compare notes in person, maybe have her see if she recognizes the body.” He pauses, “Over.”

“Good plan,” the officer nods, “See you soon over and out.” He puts the radio back in his belt, “I'm going to have to ask you to come down to the station with me, ma'am.”

Wendy sighs, “I suppose I'm not going to work tonight… sure.”

“Not actually a request…” the officer begins as he gestures towards his vehicle, which isn't marked, “...but thank you for complying willingly.”

The cold hero gets inro the car as the officer opens the back. They drive down to the hospital, check Wendy in at the desk (just the visitor's log), and head down to the morgue….