Victor Fries || 𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕫𝕖

Victor sighed as he looked up at the sky, the mid-spring sun a tyrant hanging over his head. It was difficult in these times, when he had to wear a more compact version of his cryo-suit. It was skin-tight, with temperature-safe tubing running along the limbs, keeping him cool, and hidden under clothes that made him look like any other middle-aged man on his way to or from the office. The weather was below 70F. 

Comfortable for some people. A little chilly for others. Boiling for Victor. He took a handkerchief to dab at his face, looking positively ill as he descended the subway stairs, which felt like walking into a sauna hidden underground. His breath was haggard. His chest heaved. The battery pack under his clothes beeped a warning that he had only twenty minutes of mediocre cooling left. 

The briefcase he carried, full of corporate secrets he was hoping to sell or use to blackmail, slipped out of his sweaty palm, and he collapsed in trying to pick it up. God help him, if no one else would, he thought. Lord knew that they would be owed a favor by Mr. Freeze.