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Description
It was past time to update Snowflake's file! I think I might move her updated about info and backstory onto this deviation so that all the updated stuff is in one place.

Ice belongs to DC (Detective Comics)
Young Justice show belongs to DC
Snowflake belongs to GlassSeraph
Art shown is drawn by GlassSeraph
Template is Young Justice bios template by Meibatsu

| About/Info |
❅ Alias: Snowflake
❅ Secret ID: Serena Svabodová
❅ Mentor: Ice
❅ Age: 15
❅ Languages:
Russian (primary)
Czech
Limited English
❅ Birthday: Feb 16th, 1996
❅ Gender: Cis female
❅ Ethnicity: Czech
❅ Nationality/Citizenship:
1996 - Czech
2002 - Russian
2009 - American
❅ Species: Metahuman
❅ Powers:
Cryokinesis
Limited temperature control
❅ Height: 5”1
❅ Weight: 120 lbs
❅ Eye color: #9DCFFF ice blue
❅ Hair color: #4B2006 brown
❅ Hair type: curly, short
❅ Skin color: #E9B78C light tan
❅Scars: 11 year old burn scars cover
Back
Back of forearms
Back of legs
Back of neck
*see end of page for illustrative scar guide
❅ Recognizable features: mole beneath right eye
❅ General physique:
Narrow shoulders
Minimal muscle
Wide hips
Toned thighs
Double-jointed thumbs & fingers
❅ Current Residence:
Mainverse - Happy Harbor, Rhode Island
Duoverse - Murmansk, Russia
TTverse - Undetermined
Invasionverse - Undetermined
❅ Preset relationships:
Mentor - Ice/Tora Olafsdotter
Friend - Guy Gardner
Friend - Fire/Beatriz DaCosta
Father - Ôskar Svaboda
Mother - Svétlana Svabodová
Eldest brother - Mikolas Svaboda
Older brother - Ezven Svaboda
Best friend - Replica/Switch/Ava

| Backstory |

❅ # ❅
It’s 4:15pm in the sunny afternoon of a warm day in Prague, Czech Republic, August 10th, 1999. The proud facade of the SVABODA Shipping Co.® storehouse casts long shadows that curl against the lurid green curves of the neighboring hills. Inside, sectioned shipments of pristine tech stand stacked against the walls in rows like the inexorable march of a chorus synth line, not a box out of place. The pristine sliding glass doors open in a staccato puff of air, and a procession of shined shoes echo as they tap against the burnished grey floor. At the center, a pair of tiny shiny pink mary janes beats a softer, faster hummingbird-like rhythm. The little girl they belong to smiles cherubically up at the man who’s hand gently engulfs her own, a similarly bright smile reflected on his face at her invigorated attempts to keep up with legs much longer than her own.
A rectangular black business card in his front suit pocket identifies him in white capitol print as Mr. Ôskar Svaboda, C.E.O. of SVABODA Shipping Co. ® and a chuckled endearment identifies the pink-shoed child as Serena Svabodová the Director’s beloved daughter of six sweet years old. Mushy soprano giggles and the serious tenor and bass susurrations of older voices echo in the open air of the expansive storage room and bright LED striplights cast the room in a sharp white light, holding darkness in a stoic grip in only the very corners of the room.
There is nothing in the mise-en-scene to herald the explosion that cracks like thunder and shatters the benevolent atmosphere. The room snaps into a red almost darkness, broken striplights showering sparks. The formerly impeccable rows of boxes are broken and segmented, boxes littering the floor and spilling forth their contents. Plastic packaging corners cover some shiny shoes that glitter in reply to the sparks that shower from the ceiling. Shouts, barked orders, pained groans and grunts, but no sound louder than the panicked cry that crescendoes in the dark. There is a dim, increasing roar as the room gets brighter - the sparks have met with the wooden support beams and flames lick greedily up the thick oak shafts. One creaks, groans, and surrenders to gravity with no regard for the tiny inert form trapped beneath. A shrill piercing wail takes an chilling vice grip on a father’s heart. There is no grace, but speed in the stumbling trajectory through the debris, and strength as the heavy flaming beam groans and relinquishes it’s victim with a roll to the side. The seconds before the steady pulse of a heartbeat against trembling fingers are longer than the hours afterward, miles away in the sterile white embrace of Nemocnice Na Homolce where surgeons work to restore what fire tried to consume.
Prague catches attention two years later: strange incidents of fire hydrants breaking on their own, the water inside expanding and turning to ice in the middle of summer, bushes near the entrance to the primary school crumbling to the touch, leaves cut open to reveal ice where xylem should have been, snow piled up on top of the bathroom mirrors and hand dryer of the third grade girl’s bathroom.
Vigilant as ever, the Justice League has a meager presence in Prague two days later: Beatriz Da Costa and Tora Olafsdotter. Known to the rest of the world as Justice League superheroes Fire and Ice, they keep a close eye on the city, with the help of non-Leaguer but proud Green Lantern Guy Gardner.
Their investigation leads them to the home that, upon knocking at the rich mahogany double doors, reveals a petite kid with a head of brown curls and thickly lash-rimmed bright blue eyes that regard them with a charming awe. A kid who’s enthusiastic grip on their amusedly outstretched hand is cold as ice and leaves frost on their gloved digits when they pull away in surprise. A kid who makes a quick retreat as an older face replaces hers at the door, who’s turned back reveals scars that trail from the back of her neck and dip uninterrupted into the cotton blue of her polka-dot blue tee-shirt, and sprinkle splotches up the back of her forearms.
They won’t be convinced to part with her. It’s clear from how the two young teenage boys that stand next to her - one with a hand on her shoulder, the other absent-mindedly stroking her hair. It’s clear from how the man’s gaze lingers more on her than the buzzing cell phone with business calls, the laptop open to corporate emails, the mug of coffee that steams softly beside him, untouched. It’s clear in the woman’s tone that’s just a little too tight to be relaxed, the pull of her lipstick smile that is just a little too wide.
So it’s good that they don’t have to be the ones to convince them to make the decision. She does. And as reluctant as they are, in the end they don’t seem to be able to tell her no. One plan, ten thousand rules, fifteen calls, three explanations of threats to public safety, and an endless amount of what must have been “Pleaaaasee?” in Czech later, and the date is set.
The League base in Murmansk, Russia is small, but well equipped, and Serena gradually gains control over her cryokinesis with Ice’s patient mentoring. Months stretch, and one year, two, and three pass. Her family visits so often, she doesn’t go 4 months without a visit. Despite all the time living apart, a feeling in Serena grows stronger than how much she misses them: her desire to use what she’s learned. She longs to join her mentor, has grown tired of being told she’s too young for the League.
She gets a taste of what it’s like to be a hero one afternoon at the park. A woman and her baby are alive because of her, and though it’s their lives that are saved, she feels as if she’s truly experiencing hers for the first time.
The novelty doesn’t wear off. Ice sees both the glint of determination and naivete in the eleven year old’s eyes, and makes her an offer.
Serena becomes Snowflake, Ice’s sidekick. She’s satisfied.
Four years later, Snowflake finds herself on the other side of the world - Happy Harbor, Rhode Island, United States of America. To help on a mission with a team of teenage superheroes, overseen by the Justice League, she’s told. It’s not the first time she’s met others like her, but the team makes an impression on her. They ask her to join them.
At first, she’s hesitant.
Then the Justice League is infiltrated by The Light, the Team to thank for the hairsbreadth rescue of her world.
Snowflake puts aside her inhibitions joins the Team.
❅ # ❅

Description
It was past time to update Snowflake's file! I think I might move her updated about info and backstory onto this deviation so that all the updated stuff is in one place.

Ice belongs to DC (Detective Comics)
Young Justice show belongs to DC
Snowflake belongs to GlassSeraph
Art shown is drawn by GlassSeraph
Template is Young Justice bios template by Meibatsu

| About/Info |
❅ Alias: Snowflake
❅ Secret ID: Serena Svabodová
❅ Mentor: Ice
❅ Age: 15
❅ Languages:
Russian (primary)
Czech
Limited English
❅ Birthday: Feb 16th, 1996
❅ Gender: Cis female
❅ Ethnicity: Czech
❅ Nationality/Citizenship:
1996 - Czech
2002 - Russian
2009 - American
❅ Species: Metahuman
❅ Powers:
Cryokinesis
Limited temperature control
❅ Height: 5”1
❅ Weight: 120 lbs
❅ Eye color: #9DCFFF ice blue
❅ Hair color: #4B2006 brown
❅ Hair type: curly, short
❅ Skin color: #E9B78C light tan
❅Scars: 11 year old burn scars cover
Back
Back of forearms
Back of legs
Back of neck
*see end of page for illustrative scar guide
❅ Recognizable features: mole beneath right eye
❅ General physique:
Narrow shoulders
Minimal muscle
Wide hips
Toned thighs
Double-jointed thumbs & fingers
❅ Current Residence:
Mainverse - Happy Harbor, Rhode Island
Duoverse - Murmansk, Russia
TTverse - Undetermined
Invasionverse - Undetermined
❅ Preset relationships:
Mentor - Ice/Tora Olafsdotter
Friend - Guy Gardner
Friend - Fire/Beatriz DaCosta
Father - Ôskar Svaboda
Mother - Svétlana Svabodová
Eldest brother - Mikolas Svaboda
Older brother - Ezven Svaboda
Best friend - Replica/Switch/Ava

| Backstory |

❅ # ❅
It’s 4:15pm in the sunny afternoon of a warm day in Prague, Czech Republic, August 10th, 1999. The proud facade of the SVABODA Shipping Co.® storehouse casts long shadows that curl against the lurid green curves of the neighboring hills. Inside, sectioned shipments of pristine tech stand stacked against the walls in rows like the inexorable march of a chorus synth line, not a box out of place. The pristine sliding glass doors open in a staccato puff of air, and a procession of shined shoes echo as they tap against the burnished grey floor. At the center, a pair of tiny shiny pink mary janes beats a softer, faster hummingbird-like rhythm. The little girl they belong to smiles cherubically up at the man who’s hand gently engulfs her own, a similarly bright smile reflected on his face at her invigorated attempts to keep up with legs much longer than her own.
A rectangular black business card in his front suit pocket identifies him in white capitol print as Mr. Ôskar Svaboda, C.E.O. of SVABODA Shipping Co. ® and a chuckled endearment identifies the pink-shoed child as Serena Svabodová the Director’s beloved daughter of six sweet years old. Mushy soprano giggles and the serious tenor and bass susurrations of older voices echo in the open air of the expansive storage room and bright LED striplights cast the room in a sharp white light, holding darkness in a stoic grip in only the very corners of the room.
There is nothing in the mise-en-scene to herald the explosion that cracks like thunder and shatters the benevolent atmosphere. The room snaps into a red almost darkness, broken striplights showering sparks. The formerly impeccable rows of boxes are broken and segmented, boxes littering the floor and spilling forth their contents. Plastic packaging corners cover some shiny shoes that glitter in reply to the sparks that shower from the ceiling. Shouts, barked orders, pained groans and grunts, but no sound louder than the panicked cry that crescendoes in the dark. There is a dim, increasing roar as the room gets brighter - the sparks have met with the wooden support beams and flames lick greedily up the thick oak shafts. One creaks, groans, and surrenders to gravity with no regard for the tiny inert form trapped beneath. A shrill piercing wail takes an chilling vice grip on a father’s heart. There is no grace, but speed in the stumbling trajectory through the debris, and strength as the heavy flaming beam groans and relinquishes it’s victim with a roll to the side. The seconds before the steady pulse of a heartbeat against trembling fingers are longer than the hours afterward, miles away in the sterile white embrace of Nemocnice Na Homolce where surgeons work to restore what fire tried to consume.
Prague catches attention two years later: strange incidents of fire hydrants breaking on their own, the water inside expanding and turning to ice in the middle of summer, bushes near the entrance to the primary school crumbling to the touch, leaves cut open to reveal ice where xylem should have been, snow piled up on top of the bathroom mirrors and hand dryer of the third grade girl’s bathroom.
Vigilant as ever, the Justice League has a meager presence in Prague two days later: Beatriz Da Costa and Tora Olafsdotter. Known to the rest of the world as Justice League superheroes Fire and Ice, they keep a close eye on the city, with the help of non-Leaguer but proud Green Lantern Guy Gardner.
Their investigation leads them to the home that, upon knocking at the rich mahogany double doors, reveals a petite kid with a head of brown curls and thickly lash-rimmed bright blue eyes that regard them with a charming awe. A kid who’s enthusiastic grip on their amusedly outstretched hand is cold as ice and leaves frost on their gloved digits when they pull away in surprise. A kid who makes a quick retreat as an older face replaces hers at the door, who’s turned back reveals scars that trail from the back of her neck and dip uninterrupted into the cotton blue of her polka-dot blue tee-shirt, and sprinkle splotches up the back of her forearms.
They won’t be convinced to part with her. It’s clear from how the two young teenage boys that stand next to her - one with a hand on her shoulder, the other absent-mindedly stroking her hair. It’s clear from how the man’s gaze lingers more on her than the buzzing cell phone with business calls, the laptop open to corporate emails, the mug of coffee that steams softly beside him, untouched. It’s clear in the woman’s tone that’s just a little too tight to be relaxed, the pull of her lipstick smile that is just a little too wide.
So it’s good that they don’t have to be the ones to convince them to make the decision. She does. And as reluctant as they are, in the end they don’t seem to be able to tell her no. One plan, ten thousand rules, fifteen calls, three explanations of threats to public safety, and an endless amount of what must have been “Pleaaaasee?” in Czech later, and the date is set.
The League base in Murmansk, Russia is small, but well equipped, and Serena gradually gains control over her cryokinesis with Ice’s patient mentoring. Months stretch, and one year, two, and three pass. Her family visits so often, she doesn’t go 4 months without a visit. Despite all the time living apart, a feeling in Serena grows stronger than how much she misses them: her desire to use what she’s learned. She longs to join her mentor, has grown tired of being told she’s too young for the League.
She gets a taste of what it’s like to be a hero one afternoon at the park. A woman and her baby are alive because of her, and though it’s their lives that are saved, she feels as if she’s truly experiencing hers for the first time.
The novelty doesn’t wear off. Ice sees both the glint of determination and naivete in the eleven year old’s eyes, and makes her an offer.
Serena becomes Snowflake, Ice’s sidekick. She’s satisfied.
Four years later, Snowflake finds herself on the other side of the world - Happy Harbor, Rhode Island, United States of America. To help on a mission with a team of teenage superheroes, overseen by the Justice League, she’s told. It’s not the first time she’s met others like her, but the team makes an impression on her. They ask her to join them.
At first, she’s hesitant.
Then the Justice League is infiltrated by The Light, the Team to thank for the hairsbreadth rescue of her world.
Snowflake puts aside her inhibitions joins the Team.
❅ # ❅