[Saturday July 11, 2:00pm]
I threw myself to the side as my cousin pitched the volley ball at me. The game was keep-away, and I was limited to a range no bigger than a swimming pool.
Two of my cousins, their father, my uncle and occasionally my aunt would take turns fetching the ball and whipping it at me. Part of the exercise was that I couldn't stay still. Even when I wasn't being threatened, I had to keep in motion. Sometimes they threw a second or third ball at me, just to keep things lively, so I also had to keep my wits about me and stay aware of my surroundings.
The first day had been the hardest. Driving up to the house and explaining what had happened, using references to television entries and the now-famous Youtube videos. They'd picked up that I'd gotten actual superpowers playing a video game pretty quickly. When they learned of the catch, they'd taken it in stride. Well, my aunt's lips twitched, and I could see the mischief dancing in her eyes, so I knew I wasn't getting off that easily. Explaining it to the cousins had been easier. They'd thought it was cool, and made all sorts of off-color jokes that embarrassed the hell out of me, no matter which form I was using.
Still, they also helped me work up a training regimen. My uncle's brother had another 50 acre lot adjoining his, and most of both of them were just used to farm trees. So they got together and had the boys set up the most difficult tracks through the woods they could think of. And since their 'boys' were a few years older than I was, farmed the trees half the time (which meant a lot of hours with chainsaws, axes and hoists), they were in much better shape starting out than I was.
Although I still took the win in my eyes when I casually picked up the old tractor they used to use when they ran a small farm on that land. Something Marvel Kara had that translated well. I could pick up something like four or five metric tonnes without breaking a sweat. Of course, I had to be well-braced. Something they don't cover in superhero comics. Superman pickes up a train, okay I can accept that. But if he's not standing on concrete, he'll get driven into the ground like a tent peg from all that weight focused on such a small surface area. I learned that the hard way the first time I'd tried to pick up something heavy.
Anyway, I vaulted over the dodgeball, the reflexes I'd learned from Fate coming back fast. I'd mentioned once before that Fate was my telepathic girlfriend's daughter, who'd been forced into the Hound Indoctrination program against her will by her own father, in an attempt to protect her. She'd been forced to watch her father die, and then endured unspeakable indignities, all without her mother being able to rescue her. So she had... issues. In fact, she'd been all set to kill her mother by the time we found her. It took a lot of work, and a shoulder to cry on from the most unusual source I'd ever imagined to help her reach something resembling normal. I'd just never guessed Drake had that much compassion in him.
On the other hand, Shin keeps telling me I underestimate Drake. He keeps surprising me, so maybe...
Anyway, Fate eventually reconciled to the idea of her mother being in a long-term relationship with another woman. But she was absolutely determined that if Cassandra's health was going to depend on a rookie, that rookie would be as well trained as she could manage. And since Fate had the awesome power of making lethally bad luck your constant companion for about a week or so, I did as she asked.
It was horrible, painful, and more than a little ego-bruising. But by the time she was finished with me, I could strip, clean and assemble about half a dozen small arms. I could survive in the back end of nowhere with nothing but my wits (and you'd better believe she found somewhere remote where electrical powers wouldn't mean as much.) And I could use any of a half dozen martial arts. Sure most of them emphasized evasion or blocking, but there was a little White Tiger thrown in, as well as the Hound program's own blend of fighting techniques. Nothing so fancy that had names or could be put on display in front of an audience. But it was the most survivable, unfair martial art Ahab had been able to create for his 'pets'.
I'd been relearning the old moves, burning them back into muscle memory in the evenings. During the mornings, I did a little Tai Chi, with emphasis on concentrating on the flow of power as it moved through me. They'd said I'd need that kind of training back in Paragon, learning how to manage the flow of electrical power so that it became instinct, instead of conscious thought. I also worked on that technique in the mornings around those power towers near my home. I didn't release the energy, just drew it up and let it dissipate. Repeating this several dozen times every day was all the workout I figured I'd need to draw more power later on.
In the process, I sort of lost touch with the rumor mill in the world around me. I had a place to train, and it was paying heavy dividends. I'd even practiced flying a bit more under my own power. Still only just hover, but that was fine. I wanted to master that one before I tried adding more thrust. It would suck to forget in a panic how hover worked after losing control. As for practicing hover? Easy. They had me doing laps over the swimming pool. If I fell in, I had to do more laps until I dried out.
In this fashion, training and keeping to myself, Saturday afternoon rolled around...
---
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.
I threw myself to the side as my cousin pitched the volley ball at me. The game was keep-away, and I was limited to a range no bigger than a swimming pool.
Two of my cousins, their father, my uncle and occasionally my aunt would take turns fetching the ball and whipping it at me. Part of the exercise was that I couldn't stay still. Even when I wasn't being threatened, I had to keep in motion. Sometimes they threw a second or third ball at me, just to keep things lively, so I also had to keep my wits about me and stay aware of my surroundings.
The first day had been the hardest. Driving up to the house and explaining what had happened, using references to television entries and the now-famous Youtube videos. They'd picked up that I'd gotten actual superpowers playing a video game pretty quickly. When they learned of the catch, they'd taken it in stride. Well, my aunt's lips twitched, and I could see the mischief dancing in her eyes, so I knew I wasn't getting off that easily. Explaining it to the cousins had been easier. They'd thought it was cool, and made all sorts of off-color jokes that embarrassed the hell out of me, no matter which form I was using.
Still, they also helped me work up a training regimen. My uncle's brother had another 50 acre lot adjoining his, and most of both of them were just used to farm trees. So they got together and had the boys set up the most difficult tracks through the woods they could think of. And since their 'boys' were a few years older than I was, farmed the trees half the time (which meant a lot of hours with chainsaws, axes and hoists), they were in much better shape starting out than I was.
Although I still took the win in my eyes when I casually picked up the old tractor they used to use when they ran a small farm on that land. Something Marvel Kara had that translated well. I could pick up something like four or five metric tonnes without breaking a sweat. Of course, I had to be well-braced. Something they don't cover in superhero comics. Superman pickes up a train, okay I can accept that. But if he's not standing on concrete, he'll get driven into the ground like a tent peg from all that weight focused on such a small surface area. I learned that the hard way the first time I'd tried to pick up something heavy.
Anyway, I vaulted over the dodgeball, the reflexes I'd learned from Fate coming back fast. I'd mentioned once before that Fate was my telepathic girlfriend's daughter, who'd been forced into the Hound Indoctrination program against her will by her own father, in an attempt to protect her. She'd been forced to watch her father die, and then endured unspeakable indignities, all without her mother being able to rescue her. So she had... issues. In fact, she'd been all set to kill her mother by the time we found her. It took a lot of work, and a shoulder to cry on from the most unusual source I'd ever imagined to help her reach something resembling normal. I'd just never guessed Drake had that much compassion in him.
On the other hand, Shin keeps telling me I underestimate Drake. He keeps surprising me, so maybe...
Anyway, Fate eventually reconciled to the idea of her mother being in a long-term relationship with another woman. But she was absolutely determined that if Cassandra's health was going to depend on a rookie, that rookie would be as well trained as she could manage. And since Fate had the awesome power of making lethally bad luck your constant companion for about a week or so, I did as she asked.
It was horrible, painful, and more than a little ego-bruising. But by the time she was finished with me, I could strip, clean and assemble about half a dozen small arms. I could survive in the back end of nowhere with nothing but my wits (and you'd better believe she found somewhere remote where electrical powers wouldn't mean as much.) And I could use any of a half dozen martial arts. Sure most of them emphasized evasion or blocking, but there was a little White Tiger thrown in, as well as the Hound program's own blend of fighting techniques. Nothing so fancy that had names or could be put on display in front of an audience. But it was the most survivable, unfair martial art Ahab had been able to create for his 'pets'.
I'd been relearning the old moves, burning them back into muscle memory in the evenings. During the mornings, I did a little Tai Chi, with emphasis on concentrating on the flow of power as it moved through me. They'd said I'd need that kind of training back in Paragon, learning how to manage the flow of electrical power so that it became instinct, instead of conscious thought. I also worked on that technique in the mornings around those power towers near my home. I didn't release the energy, just drew it up and let it dissipate. Repeating this several dozen times every day was all the workout I figured I'd need to draw more power later on.
In the process, I sort of lost touch with the rumor mill in the world around me. I had a place to train, and it was paying heavy dividends. I'd even practiced flying a bit more under my own power. Still only just hover, but that was fine. I wanted to master that one before I tried adding more thrust. It would suck to forget in a panic how hover worked after losing control. As for practicing hover? Easy. They had me doing laps over the swimming pool. If I fell in, I had to do more laps until I dried out.
In this fashion, training and keeping to myself, Saturday afternoon rolled around...
---
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.