“Do you want me to join you in the shower?”
If I say yes, Maria’s coy smile promises another round or two. “I’m starting to think you’re only using me for my body,” I joked.
“Not just your body; your face is pretty good too.”
“Funny. You can shower after I’m done.”
I step into the shower and turn on the jets. My father designed our house to have all the amenities one could need, with each bedroom having a bath attached. Forty-eight pressurized holes, capable of nearly any temperature, shoot out, soothing my sore body. The hot water stings as it hits my back and shoulders. Maria must have really done a number on my back with her nails. Shower gel comes from a dispenser built into the wall, and I loofa all the sweat, fluids, and grime off my body. It smells of cinnamon and oak, with some dumb name like Annihilation Mountain Cleanser. Washing the conditioner out of my hair, I activate the drying function. Several grates open at my feet, and the jets blow warm air at me.
Maria enters the bathroom, still naked from earlier. I notice a couple of hickeys on my neck. I’m going to have to wear something to cover that up. Not that I’m capable of feeling shame, but people might use it as an excuse to talk to me. Mirrors are strange to me. They further exacerbate the sense of detachment I usually experience. I recognize the six-foot-three, sandy-haired, green-eyed teenager as myself. I look over the athletic frame reminiscent of a swimmer marred by a faint thin scar on the left side of my ribs. The only reminder of the accident. I scrub my face, devoid of facial hair, and start to style my hair. Long at the top and short on the sides, I put some product in and use my fingers to comb it back.
I leave Maria to shower and begin to get dressed. I check my phone and see that it’s six. The party isn’t until eight, but it’ll take thirty minutes to get to Jake’s house. The groupchat shows several texts from the others. It looks like they’ll be arriving by seven-thirty—plenty of time to prepare myself for the upcoming party. I throw on a grey undershirt with matching briefs, followed by a pair of black socks and dark jeans. I walk past my bed to the closet, picking a nice white turtleneck. My style is simple but confident, fashionable but not flashy. My room is the exact same way—a clinical facade masquerading as an average teenager’s room. Posters of bands from decades ago dot the walls with a queen-sized bed with exactly two pillows in the middle of the room. A projection television mounted to face my bed, complete with the latest immersive speakers in the room’s corners. White oak furniture throughout the room: a bureau, a nightstand, and my desk against the left wall. My computer and monitor sit atop that desk with little knickknacks decorating it to give it more personality. Every detail is meticulously planned to show that my serious outward persona hides a fun-loving soul.
Of course, it’s complete and utter bullshit. Nothing about Eryk Blakely is real. I sit at my desk while waiting for Maria to finish getting ready. Turning on my pc, I remembered what Aubrey had said earlier. Typing “titania” into my search bar reveals the same video reposted across hundreds of different sites. I pick a random site and begin to watch the video.
The footage is shaky but high quality, as expected of cell phone cameras. In it, a woman made of metal is facing off against three others. The first is some anthropomorphic wolfman as tall as a streetlamp. The next is a woman head to toe in gladiatorial armor, sporting a gladius and shield. The final member of the trio is a man wearing an orange and red suit shooting flames at Titania. Titania levitates above the street with three cars rotating around her. She flicks her wrist at her opponents, and the vehicles come flying at them. The wolfman catches the first car, but another hits him from above immediately. I watch the gladiator cut a thrown bus in half before leaping into the air and kicking Titania down. The street explodes from the impact of her metal body hitting it. Whoever is filming could do a better job. They always seem to be just seconds behind the action.
The following two and a half minutes show only the sidewalk as the recorder runs to safety. Massive explosions, as well as glass shattering, can be heard through the screen. By the time the uploader has another visual of the battle, it has ended. All three of her opponents are defeated. Each is restrained with metal. The wolfman has two cars sandwiching him and a metal band muzzling him. The man with the flame motif has a light pole wrapped around him like a python. The only one still awake is the gladiator, and she is the one most heavily restrained. Every part of her has a separate metal band holding it in place. Each one has a thick metal wire attached to either the street or a nearby building, holding her perfectly still. That’s not stopping her from yelling obscenities at Titania, though. The video ends shortly after.
I wish there were more. Something about that video captured my opinion in a way nothing has before. I’ll have to ask Aubrey if she knows where I can find other fights to watch. Looking at the comments gives me the names of the villains, no Cowls, that Titania was fighting. Wolfman’s name is Lycan, which is just painfully uncreative. BurnBlast is the gentleman in the colored suit, and the woman is called Athena. There was a comment about how the fight was a mismatch due to Titania being a Tier 4 Manipulator. The way the commenter capitalized Manipulator makes me believe it has a different meaning. I never really paid much attention to any of this A quick internet search leads me to the Neuvohuman Wiki. There are separate links for most major cities, including Quinstin—time to do that research Aubrey had mentioned.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
All Neuvohuman abilities fall under one of ten categories:
Caster: Long-range attackers.
Tinkerer: Capable of creating futuristic technology that can violate the laws of physics. All Tinkerers have a specialty.
Bruiser: Enhanced strength or durability.
Alter: Capable of changing the properties of themselves or other people/objects.
Shifter: Capable of changing into one other form. Typically with its own abilities.
Traveler: Movement-based abilities.
Ruler: Creation of minions or controlling people/animals/insects.
Neutralizer: Can nullify other abilities via specific conditions, such as touch, sight, and more.
Mentalist: Abilities that relate to the mind, psyche, or brain.
Manipulator: Able to control other objects/forces/elements.
Digging deeper down the Neuvohuman rabbit hole leads me to discover ratings. Each ability is graded on a scale of zero to five, with zero being a useless or potentially self-destructive power. Very few Neuvohumans are rank zero, with some people debating their existence. But why would there be a rank zero if there weren't examples of it? Five is reserved for the truly powerful—Neuvohumans with abilities that could destroy a city alone. I clicked the Quinstin link and found pages for the most significant Capes and Cowls pages. I see Titania’s name and decide to check out the information they have on her. Unfortunately, very little information is made public, but what I saw did enlighten me.
Titania
Designation: Cape
Residence: Quinstin
Affiliation: Heroes’ Union
Real Name: Unknown
Height: 5’8-5’9
Weight: Unknown
Classification:
Manipulator (Tier 4): Her body is made of an unknown metal. She can manipulate any known metal with no upper limit (citation needed). She can mimic flight using her ability on herself.
Her ability manifests itself in so many different ways. It’s clear that this is a topic I’ll have to look into when I have more time. I hear the jets stop from the other room and quickly close my browser. Eryk doesn’t care about Capes and Cowls, and it would be odd for him to be on that website.
“Hey, which-”
“Second dresser bottom drawer,” I answered.
Maria spends nearly seventy percent of the week here at my house, so I organized a drawer for all her clothes and items. Otherwise, she’d clutter the room and leave it in disrepair. She walks over to the dresser and starts to pick out her outfit, deciding on a band t-shirt, a red and black flannel tied around her waist, and ripped black skinny jeans. It’s another variant of her usual style. I hug her and kiss her head.
“You look cute, babe.”
“Thanks. And now we match, so no one will get any ideas.” She said icily.
Not this again. One time, over a year ago, at a party, I helped out a classmate who was way too drunk. I don’t even remember the girl’s name, but I helped her find somewhere to lie down. After propping her with pillows so she wouldn’t choke to death on her vomit, I left her with a friend. Maria acts as if I cheated by helping the girl out.
One of the reasons she fell for me is because I appear kind. My relationship with her has exposed me to emotions I would’ve missed out on without her. Thankfully, Eryk isn’t a person who is envious or jealous, so I don’t have to pretend to be insecure. But Eryk is a caring and thoughtful boyfriend, and thus I must assuage her self-inflicted inadequacies.
“Maria, darling. I have eyes for you and only you. There isn’t a woman in this world who could even catch my attention. I love you.”
A simple smile and pretty language are all it takes to pacify her. Her face lights up at my words of reinforcement. She can’t help it, the need for constant reassurances of love. I blame her parents’ inability to care for anyone other than themselves. But their fuckup allowed me to circumvent the hassle of the high school dating scene. For that, I thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Estella.
“I know that, but it isn’t you that I’m worried about. You’re too kind, Eryk. So you don’t see what I see.”
Ironic of her to think there’s anything I don’t notice. I’m not blind to other girls’ interest in me—a tall, intelligent, good-looking boy who’s never been the subject of rumors. A tragic backstory in the form of a dead mother and an impenetrable friend group marks me as mysterious. And what teenager can resist a good mystery? I understand their interest in me, but I would never reciprocate it. Eryk is faithful to a fault.
“Well, that’s what I have you for,” I said. “You wanna watch a movie before the others get here?”
“Sure. Ooo, let’s watch a classic tonight like American Psycho. I love the lead in that, the manic energy he brings to the role.”
“That’s fine by me, and I’ll get some popcorn made while you set up the movie.”
I head downstairs to my kitchen, looking through the cupboards for microwaveable popcorn—spicy jalapeno or cheddar garlic, decisions, decisions. I yell upstairs to her to ask which one she wants. Cheddar garlic it is. A movie and popcorn combo is a great way to shut your brain off and lose yourself in another person’s imagination for an hour or two. I make my way back to my bedroom, sporting a big bowl of popcorn and a grin. It’s time to relax before the party.