Let me tell you about Jump City... (Hotwire and DivingDart)

If his salivary glands worked, then Vernon would be salivating now. Carrion didn't need to be broken down chemically. The meat was already undergoing putrefaction. His mind did not ponder the paradoxical nature of this person's status. Was he alive, or was he dead? Certainly the man himself found this whole selection of circumstances a bit far fetched. And he was well entitled to. Not like Hotwire had agreed to the revelation beforehand or anything.

"A demon, a demon. If but I twas a demon. Just a ghoul, alas. Your natural predator, Mr Corpse. Never had a meal that moved before." A salt and pepper shaker would suddenly come to hand. Scapegoat shook both these condiments at his chosen meal, before unhinging his jaw, revealing a powerful row of fangs and incisors, designed to rip flesh and crunch bone.

His voracious maw gaped wide to take a bite, but instead wound up with a mouthful of snow. Caught off guard by the abrupt change in weather, the hideous ghoul flailed wildly as a mound of flakes built up over his head. That was the last time he faced a day without first checking the weather forecast.

So this girl was a meta-human. That would be helpful.

"Ghoul, ghost, demon... all the same to me. Can't keep the names straight because I frankly don't want top waste the brainpower remembering them." Hotwire said.

He grabbed an explosive disc from his belt and hurled it at Scapegoat.

Glacia picked up a handful of snow, closing both of her hands on it. When they pulled apart, there was a long icicle in her hands in the shape of a sceptre. The ice was unbreakable, which meant it could serve it's purpose as a sort of baton, should she need to stun her opponent.

"Do not lay the hand on the boy," she huffed.

As the snowdrift continued to pile on, Scapegoat quickly found himself the centre of a snowball. A hindrance, but not as bad as it could have been. For he was thankfully immune to temperature concerns. The cold did not affect Vernon, being one of the living dead. Though his movement was still restricted by its mass. Unfortunately he was English. And snow was something of a national weakness. His people shut down for a few inches of frost, never-mind trying to fight against a blizzard.

Umm. Maybe I can... roll this... thing at them... Uh-oh. His lunch had made an offensive display. The discus launched towards Scapegoat and buried in a mound of snow, quickly detonating with whatever might Hotwire had set it to. I know my food can be rotten, but never so nasty! A percussive force at any strength would easily put a stop to Vernon. However he was apt at his namesake.

Instead of Scapegoat, the forgotten delinquent from earlier had been substituted, taking the brunt of the punishment instead. Off to their peripheral vision, the ghoul was free to move about once more, "Sneak attack!!!" Vernon's jaw opened wide again as he threw himself at Hotwire.

Hotwire was jumped on, and thrown to the ground.

"Get... off..." Hotwire said, struggling. He couldn't move. Whatever this "ghoul" was, it was powerful. He looked for technology. There was nothing. Any machines within his sight was buried under a foot of snow.

"Great..."