A/N: There's a poll up on the Spacebattles thread. Vote for your favorite cape name over there, or suggest a better one. I'll be picking from the top two results. Poll closes Wednesday. Anyways, back to the show!

Stasis 2.2

Hannah and I enjoyed Rocky that night, plus some kickboxing and MMA, followed by light sparring, which mostly featured me hitting the floor a lot. Thank God, my powers helped me learn how to fall correctly, even if it wasn't correctly for someone my size. Boxing was fun, and more importantly, as Hannah pointed out, the dodging techniques and stances were useful for keeping myself unhurt. Still, by the end of the night, I sported several sore spots and light bruises.

As morning dawned, we got some coffee. Sure, it did nothing to wake us up, but apparently, that just means it makes for a great pick-me-up after a night of training. The cafeteria on the Rig was amazing; I asked about it, and apparently, they designed it specifically in case the city needed relief efforts. It was large and well-stocked enough to make over 50,000 meals a day, assuming it was fully staffed, for up to a week. As a side effect, they could make just about anything, and had the chefs to match.

After a tasty breakfast (and some idle wondering if I could find and eat dream-potatoes if I searched my worlds, and whether they would make even better hash browns than these or not), I got a ride home. Upon entering my house, I was greeted by a mildly indignant mother. "Why are you only getting home now?" I shrugged, confused. It was only 7:30? "Go upstairs and get cleaned up. You only have an hour before we leave for Sunday School."

Oh, right. It was Sunday.

I quickly showered, got dressed up in a teal button-down shirt and some khaki slacks, and got downstairs before 8:30. We headed out a few minutes later. It was a longish drive; the church was all the way on the other side of downtown from us, all the way on the outskirts of the southern half of the city. The traffic wasn't too bad, just a small reroute from a minor cape fight downtown.

My family wasn't the most devout family, but in this day and age, Christians were a dying breed. Even rarer were old-school, pre-Scion or pre-Endbringer doctrines. We weren't just Christian, we were Lutheran. There were two Lutheran churches in the whole city, and one was temporarily closed. Even with that, my church was rather low on attendance. That just made my mom more determined to go.

The thing people who aren't Lutherans don't know about them; It is a historical fact that Lutherans do not back down from a fight. We are determined. The founder of our denomination was studying to be a lawyer until he decided to devote his life to the church. When he found corruption, he brought it to his supervisor; when his supervisor told him to shut up, he wrote out 95 logical arguments and nailed them to the church door. When the Pope told him to stop ruining business, he didn't, and thus became the original inspiration for pretty much every Protestant denomination.

So, our little church was determined to sing praise till kingdom come, be it by Endbringer, or Antichrist, or second coming of Christ (Scion was probably not that), etc. It was the part I think I would miss most. I had had a beautiful singing voice. I used to mimic the singing voices of people around me, and that meant I had gotten quite a range. Now it was gone.

Sunday school was disheartening. Jordan was with me to explain things, but half the kids there didn't understand, and the older kids gave me pity instead of comradery. I had to stand quietly during the songs, and sit quietly during the lesson. This was the fourth or fifth time hearing David and Goliath, so I didn't pay too much attention. Crafts were done, and I headed upstairs to join my family for church, Jordan in tow.

The service wasn't bad, I was just bored. I had never realized how much of it was based on congregation response. The organist was beautiful, and the hymns a chorus of strength; I found that feeling the air with my powers was super interesting. I could feel the music, how it interacted with the feeling the air normally had, interplaying with the silent melody of wind. I think, though, the best part was the sermon.

Before, the sermon was just a long talk that happened before the children's message, but now, I was unable to participate in the rest of the service. Our pastor, Daniel Peterson, was a strong-voiced man with a conversational but passionate tone. He stood at the lectern, hands on either side, and began to speak.

His sermon started with a bible verse about thanks, to tie into Thanksgiving, but quickly turned into a stirring speech about the things we should be thankful for. He talked about how few things in our lives were not taken for granted, simple things like food, water, shelter, family. He talked about the hierarchy of needs, the pyramid founded on these basic needs. But, he continued, the Hierarchy of needs was far from the rule. A person could be miserable even if all their basic needs, and a person could indeed fulfill an upper tier of need, like wealth, or companionship without a basic one like shelter, or a steady food supply. In a darker world, these may be harder to come by, but as long as there is goodness in the world, there can be those who defy the natural order, who rise above simply wanting and truly enjoying what they had.

It was a moving sermon. I was thankful for my life, thankful for my family, thankful for getting a second chance. I was focusing too much on the bad, when there was so much good in my life. I sat, thinking about it, not bothering with the children's message. I couldn't participate, although now that it was too late to go, I realized I would have enjoyed the simple word games and stuff to bear out the remainder of the service.

Sigh.

-Shangri-La-

I dodged to the left, ducking under the fist flying toward me, then leaped out of the way of the following knee that had been intended for my stomach. I flowed between a few forms of tai chi, sending water in whip like tentacles at my foe, who nimbly dodged or deflected the tendrils. I tried entangling their feet in the vines of the rocky jungle floor, pulling manually with my power when they wouldn't grow up fast enough. It paid off; my opponent tripped, and a series of lifting motions locked their hands to the ground with struts of rock.

Vista patted the ground thrice, signaling defeat. I nodded, motioned pushing down while breathing out, and the improvised cuffs retracted. I helped her up, while our audience applauded.

"Good work, you two," Triumph said. "Materia, that was great battlefield awareness. Vista, you're getting better at redirecting close attacks. Not to mention your CQC skills still scare me a bit. I'm surprised Materia managed to avoid that last bit." I dug out my phone. 'My power cheats.' Dennis piped up, "Materia's overpowered, the sky is blue. News at 11!" I smiled, and Triumph gave him a smile, but said, "Okay, just for that, you're up next." He groaned, exaggerating every action as he got up and stumbled over, vaulting the railing separating the benches and gear racks from the sparring area, which I had changed to a random world which appeared to be a ruin-filled forest.

A small stream flowed past, and the ground was uneven with slabs of hieroglyphed limestone. I had found that I could project the sky if I changed the roof of an area, but it was kind of strange. I had no idea what would happen if someone flew up, since I wasn't affecting the floors above this, and there were no volunteers to test it. Maybe I could send people to my worlds, or would they be stopped by a ceiling, or something? Either way, it allowed dappled sunlight to filter through the canopy, adding to the effect, so I left it up for now.

Clockblocker donned his helmet, covering the last of his skin, and got into a basic fighting stance, one I could tell was focused on fast movement. This fight should be over if he got a hand on me, but I had ideas about that.

I began the moment they gave the signal, summoning a wall of fire with a sweep of my leg, then forming a series of balls of wind with swirling motions of my arms. I knew I would not have long, so I shoved my arms into two of them, moving the other two around my knees. It took a decent bit of my concentration to maintain them, but each ball should be nearly invisible, yet able to deflect Clock's strikes if I moved well.

I searched for Clock, only to have to leap out of the way as he made a wild lunge from the side. I'd let him get too close. I quickly tried to make some room, but he had a much longer stride than I, and was skinny where I was fat. I desperately tried to fling some more fire his way, but apparently, his costume was fire-resistant, because he shrugged off the one that hit him. I needed a new strategy, the wind armor was my last resort.

I stomped forward, raising my hands over my head in time with the second stomp. A wall of stone rose in front of me, and I immediately began punching chunks out of it to try and hit him, turning them to gravel to make sure it wasn't too painful, but sacrificing effectiveness to do so. I used a burst of wind under myself to help me leap away, then allowed the wind around my knees to dissipate; I needed the concentration. I pulled as much water from the stream as I could, forming a large mass, and floated it above myself, hidden in the shadow of the trees.

Clock saw me, and began sprinting towards me. I harried him as he dodged through the trees, growing roots to try and trip him again. He proceeded undaunted, and I decided to try my plan; I made a downward flowing motion with my arms, bringing one forward, then the other meeting it as a torrent of water flowed towards Clockblocker. I would douse him, then freeze the water, and cover him in a few slabs of rock until he submitted.

I didn't expect the giant leaf.

He ripped a huge elephant ear leaf off a plant as he saw the torrent, and used it like an umbrella to block most of it. I panicked, throwing some fire his way as I desperately retreated, and then some air slashes as those failed again. He dodged them, too, and jumped over a root I had grown. One more rock, which he blocked by freezing the leaf, and I had no room to run.

I ducked his lunge, trying to bring up some rock to lock him down or trip him, but he stumbled and recovered. A punch, and my wind gauntlet paid off as the punch was deflected. I tried pushing him with more wind, causing him to stumble back, but he kicked out, and I was too slow to dodge – and the training room was normal again, Dennis getting some water on the sidelines.

Note to self, don't enter CQC with a Striker 7.

Anyway, I was headed to the sidelines. Dennis had powers that might be really limited, but were so incredibly broken it made up for that. Really, making a leaf beat a rock was completely against the rules of rock-paper-scissors. Not to mention humiliating. I was beaten by a leaf. I beat the second-highest-rated cape on our team at her own game, only to lose to a leaf. I wasn't pouting, not even a little.

Tomorrow afternoon, I had to meet with the PR part of the PRT, finally discussing my debut and image, followed shortly after by meeting my new therapist. Wow. If there was ever a thought loaded with implications, it was that one. That's right, imaginary fourth wall, I don't see you, but I can think at you.

That thought, right there, would never, ever reach my therapist. I don't want to be a crazy person.