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#Post#: 20522--------------------------------------------------
New Orleans WIP: Thalin Davis
By: Raven Tepes Date: December 11, 2025, 11:17 pm
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“Ice is honest. It doesn’t rant or roar. It just takes the heat
out of you until you stop pretending to be strong. I adore that.
One touch and I can feel your fear shiver up my arm, hear your
bones complain as they stiffen, watch your courage crystallize
into something fragile enough to snap between my fingers. Fire
wants drama. Ice just wants results.”
~ Thalin Davis
“Life? It’s a crooked little maze that pretends to matter.
People scurry through it clutching hopes like cracked lanterns,
shocked when the wind blows them out. I prefer to stroll. Break
a few walls. Rearrange the corridors. Watching others panic
reminds me that the world is soft clay, and I’m free to carve my
own delightful patterns into it.”
~ Thalin Davis
“Information is so dreadfully shy. It never shows itself until
you coax it out, and I’ve found people respond best to…
unconventional encouragement. There’s a moment, right before
they break, when their eyes widen and the truth begins to thaw
on their tongue. That moment is exquisite. Not because I crave
the answer, but because I get to sculpt the silence into
something beautifully obedient.”
~ Thalin Davis
“Thalin doesn’t fight. He orchestrates. The rest of us are
throwing punches and hoping we don’t die, but he’s out there
turning the battlefield into his own frozen stage. I’ve watched
him shape ice into needles fine enough to stitch a scream shut,
walls that rise like jaws, traps that snap tight before anyone
even realizes they stepped wrong. He enjoys it a little too
much, and that’s saying something coming from me. When Thalin
smiles in a fight, you’re already halfway to being a memory.”
~ Devon Philmore, Thalin's friend and leader
The clubhouse hums with the low throb of old rock and older
neon, the air thick with motor oil, incense, and the strange
calm that settles after violence. Cory lounges on a battered
couch, boots on the table, swirling a drink. Thalin sits
opposite him, a sliver of ice rotating between his fingers like
a cruel little galaxy. Cory: You know… getting our asses handed
to us by Robert and Lucien wasn’t exactly on my weekend bingo
card. He lifts his glass, lets the ice clink. Though I gotta
admit, watching Lucien suplex you into that dumpster was the
highlight of my night.
Thalin: He threw me. Into garbage. The rotating shard sharpens.
Garbage, Cory. Do you have any idea how insulting that is?
Cory: Buddy, you freeze people’s eyelids shut for fun. I think
karma finally spun the bottle your way. He grins, lazy as a
summer storm. Plus Robert moved like someone stapled jet engines
to a bear. I wasn’t ready for that.
Thalin: Robert punches like he’s trying to erase your family
tree. Thalin flicks the ice shard; it dissolves into a cold mist
before touching the ground. And Lucien’s shadows hit harder than
his fists. I still hear them whispering ‘gotcha’ in my ear.
Cory: To be fair, those were my ears. I don’t appreciate your
trauma migrating.
Thalin: I’m sharing the experience. It’s called bonding.
Cory: No, bonding is when we fix the bikes together or watch the
weather channel so I can yell at the clouds. Bonding is not you
using me as a human shield when Robert went full rhino.
Thalin: He was aiming for my spine. Yours looked… sturdier at
the time.
Cory snorts, stretching one leg like he’s trying to work the
memory out of it. Cory: You owe me a beer for that. And a
chiropractor.
Thalin: Fine. He conjures a tiny block of frosted air and lets
it pop like a bubble. Next time, we’ll be ready. I’ve already
devised three new ways to immobilize Lucien’s shadows and five
ways to make Robert regret every protein shake he’s ever
consumed.
Cory: See, that’s what I like about you, Frostbite. You lose a
fight and immediately start drafting blueprints for revenge.
Thalin: Improvement. Not revenge. He pauses. Well… mostly
improvement.
Cory: Good. Because the next time those two roll up, I want to
be standing, not wondering why the pavement tastes like
disappointment.
Thalin: Next time, Cory… we’re the storm.
Cory: Damn right. And I’m calling dibs on knocking Lucien into a
dumpster this time.
Thalin smirks, the temperature dipping just enough to make the
neon flicker. Thalin: Perfect. I’ll chill it for him.
A pair of crooked grins settle between them as the clubhouse
hums on, two battered riders already plotting their next dance
with disaster.
Name: Thalin Davis
Nicknames: Ice Man, Frostbite
Age: 32 years old
Species: Homo Superior (Metahuman/mutant)
Gender: Male
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 192 lbs
Organization: The Elementalist Motorcycle Club
~ Rank: Man-at-Arms
Family:
~ Father: Sebastian Davis (Alive - Lives in Heartford, CT)
~ Mother: Serina Davis (Alive - Lives in Heartford, CT)
~ Siblings: Two siblings that players can create.
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