Isabelle doesn't answer straight away, just lets go of the glamour and lets the whip uncurl from her wrist, shining and deadly. It can cut almost anything, and she's never had any problems with it slicing off a body part of two before.

"This whip," she says once she has it in her hand, giving it a snap against the ground for emphasis. "Weapon of choice and all that." Her whip is part of her, and extension of her arm almost, hardly ever free from her wrist. It's her safety net, and it's gotten her out of more scrapes than she can count. She eyes Billy - Shazam - off, sizing him up. He's big and strong and the muscles are thick, but she's pretty sure the whip is an even match.