Intro pt 2

Some say I’m a loner, others that I’m weak, occasionally they’ll throw in a rumor, but none of it is true… or at least that’s what I’d like to think.

Back to reality, I get picked on and can’t do anything about it. Bullies can smell your fear a mile away, if your facade breaks even slightly, it gets infinitely worse. They never let my best friend, Liam, have any space, but what would you expect with a Fluids Type Toughman?

They call it Li-Ren Syndrome, and Liam has a Toughman variant of it, with his sweat turning to stone in the presence of “the body’s natural fear response.”

Why bully him, you might ask, well, why not?

They like to back Toughman types into corners, usually next to a toilet or something equally humiliating, and force them to sweat themselves into petrification. He misses a lot of class to it.

Me? I have Elementalism, the Li-Ren syndrome where victims can move heat supposedly at will. Supposedly, but we all know that’s not how it works in reality.

Some people envy those with Li-Ren, but those of us who have it often wish we didn’t. Others call it Superhero Syndrome, because some of us have used our abilities to do great services for humanity, but for every hero there’s someone who would rather break the rules to their own will, something I know all too well....

Regardless, with most people dying before they even get a chance to drive, I certainly wouldn’t call it a “superhero” syndrome. In reality it just causes more problems than it solves.

My bullies, well, if I had my way I wouldn't have them, but I'm powerless to stop them. People think I could just flambe my way, flame on like some comic book hero or something, but its not that simple, and today was bound to be another day of dealing with Brad.

Brad... He's something alright... I wonder what his parents do to him, people don't just push people around for no reason, but whatever it is isn't my problem. Kid reminds me of your typical film bully spiked hair, no, buzzed, or was it... it doesn't matter, what matters is what he represents, and he represents a threat to my sanity, and I to his safety.

Beyond Brad, I didn't mind school too much, didn't like it either, but it was alright. This year I have Miss Zhang for fourth period, a new teacher fresh out of college, well mostly fresh, its second year at this school for both of us. And laaate...

"You're late again, Elma," Miss Zhang reminded me as I entered the classroom.

"Liam was stuck again, I can't help it if no one else will get him out of his resin."

Lunch was rough, Liam got shoved into the gender neutral washroom again, and scared into a plasticy figure, kneeling face in the toilet. I had to keep an eye on it, teachers don't care, rules aren't enforced, and its not like anyone else is going to go free him from his own body. I'll never understand why people like Brad need to pick on people like Liam. So he has Li-Ren, so what? Don't they get how difficult it is to fight with one's own mind to keep from going insane and incinerating everything of suffocating in a pool of their own sweat? Guess not, and I guess that's why I have to use my heat to carefully burn away the resin Liam ends up stuck in.

Its bad enough to be unable to move, its that much worse having to smell someone's shit three inches from your head for hours on end. Its why Liam shaves his head.

"I'll excuse you today, as its not too far into class, but if you keep coming late, I'll be forced to dock marks."

Miss Zhang was someone I could trust. She always has a response like that, she gets what's happening, but she's just as powerless as I am to do anything about it. She taught lit, something I liked, always found meaning in the things I saw, heard, and read. Lit gave me the opportunity to explore that.

"Please open your books to page 135, Elma you're late, you can start us off by reading of 'Wings of Dawn' please."

"In morning still, my neck was chilled, awoken from cold slumber.
Outside I see, too dark to see, spare a dot on the horizon yonder.
Routine, routine, not much to see, or so I say and ponder.
What's this I see, an angel set free, on wings of dawn torn the sky asunder.
Light, light, awake with me, a new day has come, sky ablaze in wonder.
Author unknown."

I liked this poem. Sure, it wasn't good, and I don't know why it was included in the text, but it gave me hope. Maybe one day, on the wings of dawn, and light my sky ablaze. Its not like I could forget even if I wanted to, so why should I be stuck in the past when I have a path to tear my own sky asunder?

Liam and I planned our classes to both have fifth off. Most days we'd hang out at the library, and by most I mean most that I didn't have practice. Practice was every other day, I did want to win regionals this year after all, so Coach lets me come by as I please and I have a key to the gym. Today was a Liam day though, we had been planning to head to this new cafe.

"Liam, Komikaf is open, and it should be less busy since most people are in class, wanna head out now? We can avoid Brad altogether this way."

Komikaf opened last week, a cafe for reading comics, seemed like a cool idea. You go, get a coffee, maybe a cookie or biscuit to go with it, and pick up a comic or manga from their library of shelves to read and pass the time. Seems like it would be a nice quiet place to get away from all the bullshit that goes on here at school.

"Sure, end of Route 29, right?"

"Yup, its at The Boardwalk, if we head out now, we should just barely make the bus."

The bus ride wasn't too far, ok, it was kinda far, takes us past one of the universities and through one of the nicer neighbourhoods in student territory.

"Got anything you're hoping they have to read, Liam?"

"I think I'm going to browse and see what catches my eye."

Classic Liam, deciding on the fly and going with it. Not sure if its because he's had to plan his life around getting bullied or if there is some other reason, but it always makes for an interesting day.

"You?"

"I'll see if they have Hajime no Ippo, seen the anime, would be cool to read the manga. Boxing and crude humour, always a great combination!"

Yep, definitely excited for that one. Its older, so outside of libraries that have a big manga section, its hard to find. I wouldn't call the anime a classic, its certainly no Rocky, but its good for what it is.

"Well, this is our stop, no point in walking further than we have to."

The terminal was at the far end of The Boardwalk, Komikaf dead centre, beside a shawarma place, where an ice cream place used to be. Bus stop was literally couldn't be closer.

It felt like some joke or something to amuse old white people, The Boardwalk. Boardwalk to where? There were barely any boards, unlike the Boardwalk when I visited Halifax, no reason to have boards, and only a drainage pond for water. They wanted this place to feel upscale, but it just seemed stupid. Lifestyle Way was what the bus stop was called, or was it that that is what the people who owned the place called this intersection. Its not even a real walk, pedestrians don't get any priority and the drivers are nutcases. Maybe, I guess you could call it a "lifestyle" "way" given the sheer amount of variety, but its nothing special, just a medium sized collection of strip malls. I could go on for days, but at the end of the day, there were some cool places here, like one or two depending on what you are into.

They really did some impressive stuff with Komikaf, made the door and its frame look like the cover of a manga. When you opened the door, it almost felt like you were walking into a book, and that smell, you could just smell the pages on pages and sheer number of volumes they had. Every wall without windows lined almost to the ceiling with comics. Well, might as well be the ceiling, I'm kinda short...

"Welcome! First time here?"

"Yeah, how does this work?"

"Take a seat, browse our menu and book selections, if you'd like to order something, press this button and we'll be over to take your order. Just so you are aware, there is a sitting fee, it is five dollars."

"Alright, thanks. Liam, how about we sit over there, away from the window?"

"Sounds good."

"What would you like to drink? I'll grab orders while you're browsing."

"Mocha, whipped cream, thanks! I wonder what treasures I'll find..."

We took a seat in a corner away from the windows. Corners are safe, they're less open, and I feel like I can hide in them if I need to. Call me paranoid, but I just don't feel comfortable out in the open.

The button was simple, I pressed it, it lit up, and something chimed behind the counter. Barista came over took orders, Liam's mocha and my double espresso over ice.

Liam took his time, picking up one thing after another, mostly steampunk, and volume one of My Hero Academia.

"Ordered your mocha, triple chocolate mocha with whipped cream topping alright?"

"Sounds great!"

"Alright, I'm going to go hunting, Haaaajime no Iiiiiiiippo!"

Not going to find it in the western comics, manga section was closer to the window. Historically I'd feek uncomfortable with it, bad memories, but I've come to be able to handle being near windows without feeling uncomfortable, I just don't like having to sit near them. Manga, manga, selection is pretty but I can't see any Ippo... Wonder what's in the western section. Woah, they have the Cybersix comics! Can't read Spanish, but damn, that was one amazing series. I'll just take a couple issues of this and flip through them, even if just for the art.

Cybersix was one of my childhood heroes. Sure, she has powers, but she isn't like your stereotypical comic book heroes. Super strength, able to take a beating,, but struggling with her humanity and what it means to be human. She also has to deal with the need to continually take a drug to not be killed by her powers. In that respect, Cybersix is a lot like Liam and I.

Usually I'm wearing a zip hoodie, because I like being able to strip off to my shirt underneath. Crimson is my favourite colour, it blends nicely with my skin, usually I'm wearing a black T underneath, but if I took off my hoodie you'd see all the scars where I've burned myself. Li-Ren has its advantages, and elementalism can be fun at times, but the number of times I've been to the hospital because I've seared my arms. I wear that hoodie for a reason, I don't want my bullies to know I'm different.

"My Hero Academia, you'd probably like it, main character has some serious consequences for using his powers, you'd probably relate. I really liked the anime. I'd like to think that, like me and my Elementalism, Mr MC never really gets used to the pain caused by harming himself in the process of using his powers, a burn's a burn and it hurts like hell... What comic is that?" I was curious about the comic Liam had picked up, female character with robotic arm on the front, steampunk vibes about as obvious as the steam they used to power things.

"Miss Mechanica, I started it a couple weeks back, its really good so far. She's a detective who lost her arm in the war, steam batteries allow her to use her robotic arm, and she solves mysteries with mad scientists and crazy contraptions. What more could I possibly would in steampunk noire?"

Fists and Peanuts pt 5

If I could have a peanut right now, I would, but gotta keep the gym clean, we aren't the only ones who use it after all.

Casca's form is alright, for a beginner. A little correction here, small bits of feedback there, let her lead the way in her own learning, standard practice methods.

I could tell fatigue was setting in, she'll need fitness training and we'll get there when we do."Alright, we've been at this for about half an hour, let's go check in with Coach Brock, see how Rafael is doing."

"Yeah, I could use a break, let's go."

Getting back to the track, it looks like Coach put Rafael through the wringer. I couldn't easily see his body, but his clothes and sweat were quite noticeable.

"Hey Coach, we're done up with the bags, how's things here?"

"Eh, well, he's got some work to do before we can expect him to do extended practice sessions. Its his first practice though, I'd say he did quite well all things considered." Coach seemed impressed despite his words. "How'd training with Casca go?"

"She's a natural, right Cas? You mind if I call you that?"

"My friends call me that. That was fun, but I want to spar, maybe not today, but I want to spar."

"You'll get there, we can start sparring next week. Basics first, don't want to get yer ass handed to ya the minute you step in the ring after all."

Sometimes Coach Brock can be rather blunt, as far as coaches go, that's a plus in my books. Tell it to me straight, makes my life easier, no beating around the bush, and you get what you need.

"Well Coach, I've got to head off, meeting up with Liam shortly. Great practice Cas, have fun!"

"See ya next Tuesday!"

Looks like timing was perfect, Liam just got to the get outside the track. No waiting time this time, we can just go and have lunch. God was I ever hungry towards the end, a peanut would help, but they do more to calm my nerves than fill my gut.

"Liam! How's things?" I shouted as I crossed towards the gate.

"Synagogue yesterday, overslept, so... not much? Looks like you had a hard practice, didn't even break a..."

"No, we were training new kids. Its tough, but a different kind of tough. Anyways, where are we going for food? I'm starved!"

"I was thinking A&W, haven't had that in a while, or maybe the new mom and pop shop down the street, got a preference?"

"Let's hit the new mom and pop shop, I'm kinda sick of fast food chains." Liam won the bet last week, his choice, I'd have preferred curry though. "Let's go!"

Fists and Peanuts pt 4

"Gym's over here, we'll be heading to the corner with the bags to start. Let's go," I say as we start heading back towards the gym.

"Any hobbies?" I asked as we walked, hoping to find some common ground, training would be really dull if there was nothing we could connect on.

"I do play a bit of Smash, that punch was amazing! Oh, I also like watching movies with Rafael, Rocky's our favourite," Casca replied.

"Planning on seeing Creed II when it hits theatres?"

"Can't wait, gonna have to though, Rafael can't deal with crowded theatres that well..."

"Tell ya what, give training your all and I'll take you opening day."

Casca's eyes lit up, "That would be amazing! just tell me what I have to do, coach."

"Huh, I guess this does make me a coach... You're the first person I'll have trained, so don't judge me too hard. Here's the gym, it may look rough on the outside, but its what's inside that counts."

Yep, rough indeed. The shrubbery was overgrown, asphalt cracked and broken, it certainly had seen better days. Inside was better, its what's inside that counts, and this entire half of town knew that well. Doors were solid, could use oiling, but weren't too difficult.

Once inside, I flipped the lights, with them flickering on in sections. Just how older lamps worked. We maintained the inside as a team, and shared it with the other athletics groups.

"Once you've been with the team for a while, you'll get your own key and can train as you'd like, but for now let's focus on positioning and jab  plus followup. You want to stand like this, forward foot flat on the ground, and on the ball of your rear foot. Lean forward a bit, and your dominant hand, that side is going to be your rear leg. Shoulder width apart, yeah like that," I say, adjusting Casca's posture as I speak, "Perfect!"

"Now I punch things, right? Like that bag over there?"

"Nope, gotta know how to hit first. Lead with your left and slightly step into it. Don't just extend your arm, rotate so its fully extended with your knuckles horizontal as you snap that jab. That's your one, that's your jab, its a setup shot. You're using it to see if you can hit your opponent, if you can just touch your opponent, you're close enough for a followup," I explain, walking Casca through the basics of boxing.

"Now, your 2 is your power shot, jab, jab, jab with your left, and when you're confident you can connect, follow up with your right. To do this, turn your hips like this, and extend full force like with your 1. Don't forget to step into it, you want the full force of your body into your 2, its your power shot."

"Like this?"

"Yes, just a bit faster. How about we try the bags? Its the same idea, just you're hitting a bag instead of throwing your fists into the air. Shadow boxing has its place, but you wanted to hit something after all."

"About time..."

With that, we moved to the bags, practicing a basic 1-2 for the rest of practice.

Fists and Peanuts pt 3

"Alright Casca, Coach tells me you'd like to jump right in, how'bout we go hit the bags?"

"I'm just here to spar, when do we get to that?" Casca insisted, I mean I knew she wanted to jump right in, but this was a little much.

"Hey Coach, Casca thinks she can jump right in, mind if we show her my moves and see if she thinks the same way after?"

"Alright, come at me El!" Coach said, raising his arms and readying a block.

I gathered my strength, everything into a right hand power shot, temperature rising. Those watching carefully could see sparks coming from around my fist.

"FAAAAAALCO PUNCH!" I screamed, fully extending with a flaming fist. 

Coach raised his arms, generating an electric field that caused a concussive blast as my fist drew near, pushing both of us back and preventing actual contact.

Rafael and Casca burst out laughing, not sure what to make of what they just saw, mission accomplished.

"Casca, still think you're ready to spar?"

"Definitely, just not with you or your coach, anyone I can spar with here?"

"Nope, most of the other boxers are off on vacation, I'm training for the upcoming regionals so I can get the title this year. Anyways, come with me and we'll get your basics out of the way, gotta start somewhere."

Fists and Peanuts pt 2

Waiting. I hated waiting, still do. Every minute spent waiting is a minute that could be spent doing something else, like the thing I'm waiting on, I'd much rather just get to it.

Now? Not an option.

I'd go for a run if I could, hit the bags, anything... Gotta wait for Casca.

I find peanuts help me handle these moments. There's something about feeling the roughness of its shell, the snap as you split one open, the crunch from biting into one, and warmth of the taste on your tongue, its an experience. Open the bag, you get the scent, taste, touch, sound, its a full five senser and enough to get lost for a few.

Five peanuts, a minute or few, I was getting impatient. How many instants had passed? Life can change in one you know.

That's enough peanuts for me, can't get lost for too long. At this point I was starting to pace across the track.

As I kicked a rock, I could hear a car pull in to the lot behind us. It was Officer Kent, escorting two kids not much older than ten, had to be the new club members.

"Hey Brock, here's the two new program kids. I'll leave their care to you for now, they give you any trouble, give the office a call and we'll come escort them home," Officer Kent said enthusiastically.

Kent was was one of the better officers, actually wanted to make a difference in the lives of us who've seen some shit. His tone, well, any other officer and it would be insincere. Young guy, short hair, a little pale for this part of town, but he nevertheless had a few stories of his own. If you had to deal with a cop, Kent was who you hoped to get.

"Alright, we'll see what we can do. Oh, and Kent, think you could get me a pack when you come back? Should be about two hours, right?"

"Can't make any promises, but yeah, two hours once a week is what they have funding for, see ya then!"

Oh Coach, how you need to lay off the cigs. Kent won't get them, he never does. Coach Brock has a bit of an addiction, he knows it though. Tried cessation, didn't work, so he went to all the tobacco shops and got himself banned from each one. No supply, can't smoke, yet he still tries. Determination, I'd like to think its a sign of a good coach, even if it stems from weakness.

"Elma, meet Rafael and Casca. Casca, you'll be working with Elma. Rafael, you're with me"

Fists and Peanuts pt 1

When Mom was alive, Sundays were church. Church was her community, and the support our family needed in hard times, but it was not my community.

My community? We met after church, coach had a setup in what used to be an abandoned school. Between the track and gym, it was a pretty good spot to setup some bags and train. Boxing helped me keep my stress under control, met a few friends, and while not a rising star or anything, I’d say I’m pretty good.

“Hey, Elma, you’re late!”

“Hey Coach, check your watch, five minutes early and I’ve already done a couple rounds of the block.”

“What’s that on your forehead? Doesn’t look much like sweat to me, El, what did you do, burn it off’a yer forehead?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. So, why’d you call me here so early?”

“El, police booked a couple kids, you know the story, troubled home, troubled past. Anyways, they’ve been enrolled here, learn some discipline, hopefully keep ‘em outta trouble. You’ve been with the club for a few years, and I could use some help teaching ‘em the basics, whaddya say?”

“Going to have to cut practice short then, you know Liam and I get dinner after practice, sooo. Well. where are we starting? Form, fitness?”

“Well, Casca’s in need of discipline before anything else. She needs fitness, but will respond better to just punching things. If you can take her under your wing, start with bags and form, I’ll handle her brother. Rafael’s a Two Skin type Invisititus, the sun hurts him and he’s more sensitive to pain, I’ll be working on fitness with him.”

“Alright, when should we expect them?”

“I did call you here early, should be here any minute now.”

Villain Revealed

“We are live at the location where a person with Petras type Li-Ren Syndrome robbed a convenience store at gunpoint. Witnesses say he is about five foot nine, sandy rock skin, and hazel eyes. Here’s a clip from security cameras inside the store.”

*CRASH* “Drawer, here, NOW!”

That voice… I know that voice...

“I SAID EMPTY IT INTO THE BAG”

*BANG BANG*

The video shows the cashier firing a gun at the robber, whose skin instantly turns to stone, bullets bouncing off his chest

“It is unknown if the…”

That voice.. How is he alive? I thought I incinera.. Mother…

Why me, why now..? What will people say if they find out he’s why my mother is dead? Who was the man I incinerated with Mom?

This… I can’t deal with this.

I’m not sure what happened next, but I woke up two days later with a giant migraine and charring on the floor where my hand was overhanging the bed. I could just feel the sparks between my forehead and pillow.. ugh… where did I leave my advil?