Saint Joseph School

((The following story is semi-open. If you'd like to join in, let me know. We'll just have to talk about the direction the story's going. I'd love input from others, though!))

Dusk was creeping over the Saint Joseph's campus. Glacial stalked out to the athletic fields, which weren't in use. He didn't notice the balmy summer air. Temperature wasn't something he picked up on any more. He didn't notice the pleasant evening chattering of birds and insects, either. He was in a foul mood again. It had been a tough couple of weeks, and Glacial was letting it show. He would go out here, practice his powers, and then blow off some steam -- maybe on the faces of some Arachnos.

When he came back, he had another night of resting on the infirmary couches to look forward to. His two best friends were laid up there -- where else was he going to stay? Somebody had to keep an eye on them while they couldn't.

Glacial had had a lot on his mind of late. Eshva was in the infirmary, laid up after having ''died,'' he chided himself, thanks to his negligence. Thank God for her regeneration powers, or he might've lost his best friend. He'd already lost Scout, who died twice and returned once in the span of a week. Otherworldly reassurances that Scout would return were nice, but he was still short a monkey in his life. To make matters worse, the Omni knew his face, voice, and how to reach him on his comm. That they seemed to be everywhere kept him ill at ease.

He was working with the school on finding the funding for Scout's memorial. He'd been posthumously given control of some of Scout's things. Maybe he could sell them and get a nice plaque. Maybe he could get Rin to make a statue for him.

The whole business pissed him off. He couldn't protect Scout, either. What good were his powers if he couldn't protect his friends?

Glacial got down on his knees, and pulled out an advanced-looking thermometer. To measure the extreme cold of his natural skin temperature, he needed a rugged device. He touched it to his forearm.

"-39 C."

And there was that thing with Eric, he thought. Whatever that thing was, it was ''wonderful,'' and deeply complicated. He couldn't put how he felt about it into words. Whatever it was, though, it might now have been shot to pieces. Eric was laid up in the infirmary, stuck in a tin can. He had been drugged, coerced, stabbed, imprisoned, and he was in a lot of pain. Glacial couldn't do anything to make it easier for him.

Eshva, Scout, and Eric: three failures. He couldn't get them out of his head.

''But enough of that crap,'' he told himself. ''Arachnobots are waiting.'' Glacial began to concentrate. ''Ice up,'' he thought, ''then go in the opposite direction, just the way Light told you.''

* * *

Elsewhere on the St. Joe's campus, Andrew Oliver was rubbing shampoo through his hair. He liked being clean, and the shower was
a good place for him to think. He liked a nice, even temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. He was running through an advanced physics equation when the temperature of the water started to drop.

"Hm," he said. He adjusted the knob, turning up the heat to compensate. Someone else must be using the water, he thought. When the temperature continued to drop from chilly to cold to freezing, he squeaked and skirted out of the way of the water. Soon after, the plumbing groaned, lurched, and the showerhead stopped working.

Wet, cold, and rather soapy, Andrew wrinkled his nose and went to clean up as best as he could.

* * *

Glacial had hit the upper limit of how cold he could go. He lingered for a moment at the apex of his strength. He felt like he could rip a tree out of the ground and splinter it with his fists. He felt like he could hurl the football goalpost a mile in any direction. He felt like he could snap Mila's head clean off her body, and might if given half the chance.

He heard a loud ''Pop!'' It was muffled. It seemed to come from under the ground, but Glacial wasn't sure. It didn't really matter to him.

''Now give it back, Alex. Warmer...''

* * *

Kali Jade held her toothbrush under the sink expectantly. She'd turned the water on, but the only thing that came out was a grunt from the plumbing. She frowned and tried another sink. Nothing.

"This sucks," she grumbled. "Franky's got to keep her plants under control." She brushed her teeth without water.

* * *

''Go in the other direction. Go in the other... direction.''

Glacial was struggling to concentrate. He couldn't wait to go out on patrol. He felt like breaking something valuable.

''Back... back...''

That was it. Glacial had hit a wall. He reached up and grabbed his thermometer, and touched it to his forearm. Maybe this time --

"-39 C."

"Agh! Damn it!" Glacial kicked up a mound of earth. He cursed a bit more. "This isn't working!"

That was it. He got a running start and rocketed off into the distance on an ice slide. He had a lot of energy to work off.

* * *

Glacial groaned as the sun came in from the infirmary window and hit him squarely in the eyes. He'd had a good night on patrol, but was out way too late. He went over to draw the blinds, but stopped in alarm when he saw what was going on over at the athletic fields.

A torrent of water, shooting cock-eyed at a 45-degree angle, rocketed out of the ground. It looked to Glacial like the field had turned into a lake. Coach was standing ankle-deep in water, screaming at someone on the other end of a cell phone. Paragon City construction crews had already started to move heavy excavation equipment onto the field. There was no water to be had on the campus, or for several blocks around.

Glacial cursed under his breath. "I hope that wasn't me."

The City ate the cost of the repairs to the plumbing infrastructure, but Glacial still recieved a sharp talking-to for his recklessness. To help him better understand the consequences of his actions, he had been ordered to do community service.

He hadn't been doing it.

He hadn't been going to all of his classes, either.

For the past week or so, the only people who had really seen him around were his roommates. He would stagger into the quad late at night, rest for three or four hours, and at dawn, go back out on patrol. Sometimes he wouldn't even change out of his patrol costume.

He took notice of Scout's memorial sparkling in the morning sun every day before he launched out on an ice slide to patrol.

* * *

Football practice had been going on for about half an hour when Glacial, in his football uniform, stalked out to the field. Shoulders hunched low, face in something of a grimace, Glacial clearly wasn't at his best.

"How nice of you to join us, Waters. Get yer ass in here! On the double!" Coach bellowed.

Obsidian Seraph found his friend coming into the huddle, and gave him a slap on the back. "Hey, Roomie, starting to live up to the Glacial moniker? Moving an inch a year?" Oby laughed, pulling the other boy into the huddle "C'mon, I need someone to run behind, and open holes for me" He didn't notice the glare in response to the good natured ribbing, that usually occurred between the two.

Glacial fumed silently, getting into his place in the line. The whistle blew. A teammate rushed at him, trying to get to the quarterback. He blocked hard, leaning into his opponent's chest with his shoulder, knocking the wind out of him.

"Waters! Watch it! You leave your problems behind when you come to my field, you got it?" shouted Coach.

"Hey Jipson, pick yourself up off the ground. Frosty was just giving you the cold shoulder." Oby helped the other boy up and loped back to the offensive huddle "Nice hit, Frosty. I've seen you do less to Hellions".

Glacial growled. He didn't even know why he had come.

The whistle blew again. Shoulderpads crashed loudly together.

Football was for kids, Glacial thought. Every second he was on the field somebody on the street was getting mugged, getting beat up, getting raped. Glacial thought of Scout. Getting shot.

Red spray from Scout's back. Scout falling off a building, Scout's face a mask of pain. The doctor's mouth opening. The body, still.

Glacial hit the ground hard. Defensive players surged around and over him.

Oby followed Glacial, followed into the hole that Glace was supposed to open, and watched as the other boy hit the ground, and Biff Hannigan came barreling towards him. "Aw shit." Oby barely had time to brace before the impact as Biff crashed into him sending him flying backwards into the turf. Only sheer determination kept the ball in Oby's hands.

Oby took the proferred hand from Biff, and lifted himself off the ground. "Way to hold onto the ball while getting cremated." Biff laughed. Oby picked some grass from his facemask, sending the chunks back to the ground where they belonged.

"Hey, Frosty, you need to do a better job of protecting my stoney hide. I'm too pretty to die." He slapped the other boy on the shoulder good naturedly. Glacial knocked Oby's hand away. In response, Oby stiffened. "Glace, start paying more attention to the way Biff moves before the ball is snapped, he'll tip it off, and then you can stop me from getting killed, okay?"

"I was paying attention," Glacial muttered.

"Clearly you weren't, Frosty. I was getting murdered by those--"

Oby didn't know quite how his feet left the ground, but he was dimly aware of a taste of blood in his mouth and a sharp pain in his chest. It was difficult for him to breathe. He stopped being aware of anything at all when his head made impact with the goal post. The metal made a low, protracted sound, vibrating with the impact of the stone boy.

Glacial's eyes widened. He had hit Oby. He had used all the force on him he reserved for Vahzilok, Hellions, for the Freakshow. He hadn'y hold back at all, and he couldn't think of a reason why.

Oby seemed to sail in slow motion, sputtering a little black blood from his mouth leaving a stain on his football jersey, holding his chest, a look of shock on his face. Glacial felt a lump in his throat as Oby slumped limply to the ground. He knew he had messed up, and badly.

No time to feel awful. I could've killed him. The field erupted into shouting as Glacial ran over to Obsidian's limp form, scooped him up, and shot off on an ice slide toward the infirmary.

"Bringin' him to the doctor!" he shouted behind him.

He diverted his eyes for a moment to Obsidian's face. He was still out, drooling blood. "Antoine! Antoine! Come on, buddy! I'm sorry!"

Glacial reminded himself that apologies didn't count for much.

"Alex, I need space to work. There is nothing you can do for him right now. Go sit in the waiting room." Doc Syl was removing Oby's helmet as delicately as possible. Glacial's rough delivery posed a far greater threat to his spinal cord, but she couldn't take any additional risks when a student's future was at stake.

"Bu--" Glacial stammered, distrought.

"Out, Mr. Waters!" She didn't like being this assertive with a student, but she could apologize to him later. Antoine needed her help, and quickly.

Glacial felt his temper flash again. Doc Syl was too embroiled in working on Oby to notice, but it scared the bejeezus out of Glacial. He had to do something. He had to make it right somehow.

He half-ran through the halls to David Conrads' office, still in his football uniform, a bit of Oby's black blood frozen to his chest. David was sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork. When Glacial fell into his office, he stood and looked at Alex, trying to pick himself up.

"Alex! Are you alright? What's wrong?" He had a good idea. Grief, guilt, and fear swirled in a torrent in Alex's mind.

"I don't know, Dave." Glacial wasn't making eye contact. He slumped into the David's couch, looking at the floor. "I hit Antoine."

David's eyes widened with alarm. He was quite familiar with Alex's case file. A hit from this kid could do serious damage. He started to speak, but Alex cut him off. "He's with Doc Syl. He wasn't moving, but he was breathing." He stammered for a bit, losing his train of thought. "I don't know why I came here. I should be there with him."

"No, no. I'm sure he's being worked on now. It's out of your hands." He went to close the door to his office. He had work to do.

"Calm down, Alex. Let's talk."

It clicked.

It was like a valve. When he needed to, he could throw it wide and turn to ice. When he didn't, he could close it and be a human being.

He applied the thermometer to his skin -- healthy, human skin.

"Six degrees celsius."

Passers-by looked in surprise at the whooping, dancing kid in the streets with surprise.

The next day, Glacial sat down in his literature class, wearing a cocksure grin ear-to-ear. Sister Charlotte Dimdee was calling role.

"Waters. Alex Waters?"

"Here, Sister."

Sister Dimdee gasped with surprise, sending her parrot into fits.

"Oh. Mr. Waters. Good to see you." She cleared her throat. "I believe last class we were talking about Marlowe's Doctor Faustus..."

((This topic is temporarially open. ))