Mean Streets MAD
Ice blaster and heiress
Daughter of hotel magnate Cyrus Frost, Sybil has enjoyed unthinkable wealth all her life and has thus grown up a little out of touch with the daily concerns of the rest of the world.
In childhood she fell off the balcony of one of her parents’ penthouse apartments and learned that she could fly, among other things. Her secret abilities gave her some comfort when her father decided to send her away, at the gawky age of fourteen, to a European boarding school. Somewhat ostracized for her nouveau riche heritage, she consoled herself by flying to art museums, enthralled by the moods and moments depicted by the great painters and sculptors of history.
She spent her lonely summers and Christmas vacations in her father’s various hotels throughout Europe, particularly the Parisian Frost Palace Hotel where she enjoyed music lessons from the resident lounge singer.
Her unhappy years in school led her to embrace the gauche but fabulous lifestyle her father’s fortune could provide. She decided that her own quiet (flashy, gaudy) revenge against the snobs among her peers would be to demonstrate her immense wealth and to provoke fame through scandalous behavior and scant dress. It helped that Solomon Wise’s genes kicked in as she reached adulthood, turning her into a tall, strangely magnetic beauty with perpetual health and youth on her side.
But fame brought sycophants and gold diggers, and Sybil spent her college years (at a renowned party school) learning to play the social games of her treacherous, superficial, so-called friends.
Now that she’s found her siblings, Wise’s other children, she’s overjoyed to have family that doesn’t (or at least can’t) keep her at arm’s length. She dotes on them and does her best to make them happy. Unfortunately her sense of what might make someone happy is a little distorted due to her fairy-princess lifestyle. She’s also grappling with the sudden commitment to serve a purpose on the team, to be a real hero. She has power, but barely any relevant skills, and she has little enough fear for her own safety that she’ll plunge recklessly into any conflict.
She has a not-quite-boyfriend, Barry, an embezzler. She finds him oddly compelling, a man of many skills and great elegance who chooses to live a curiously sedate life. She spends her time with him flitting around the periphery of romantic entanglement. Her prior experience of love has convinced her that all he can do is betray and abandon her, yet she can’t stop herself from going to see him on any flimsy pretext she can invent.
She also has a not-quite-girlfriend, Sean, a gay football player. Their outwardly romantic relationship is a mutually beneficial facade, and they get along tolerably well, talking about boys and clothes and skin care.
On her own, Sybil lounges by the pool. She chats with the housekeeping staff at her father’s Crescent City hotel. She reads enormous quantities of literature, in four languages. She plays with her life-size doll, Victoria, and her ferrets, Dolce and Gabbana. And she collects snow globes.