I Do Not Like Green Fire And Spam

Back at home. Myke was very reluctant to surrender the laptop into my hands. He doesn't have a lot of faith in my technological aptitude. Actually, he called me a Luddite when I told him I didn't need more RAM on my computer. I think he installed it anyway.
Now to the interesting news. The green fire was not a data download. Myke can see every single file I've ever deleted off the computer, and knows how often I've turned off my computer "improperly" and can tell where all my pirated music came from, and knows which web sites I've been visiting and how often (to the nanosecond!). I stopped listening to the specifics right about the time he started talking about cookies and virus protection, in the tone of voice my mom uses when my sister paints her toenails on the antique Persian rug. But hey, now I have great custom-made virus protection with a cute little red rabbit logo. Anyway, the point of that was, nobody's spying on me. Except Myke.
So what was that creepy green fire?
He doesn't know. Myke, the internet demigod, doesn't know. He says it was a gibberish transmission. It's not coded messages or mind control or anything. It's just white noise, a freaky electric phenomenon that scrambled my computer's brains for a few minutes. At least, that's what I think he was explaining. He's not too good at speaking in plain non-tech English when there's a computer in the room.
I'm willing to just call it a gremlin. Now that I know it's not a worst case scenario, and I'm not going to get my brains irradiated or eaten by tentacle monster gods, I'm kind of okay with it. You know, it's a weird world we live in. I can accept freaky green light. As long as it doesn't happen again.

Elementary Deduction

Hey, remember that part about me questioning whether I should tell Mycroft about me being a cryogenetic? It turns out that when you borrow Myke's internet, he gets all Big Brother on you. I wiped the browser history, but he poked around and kinda put two and two together. I've already threatened him in person, but since I know you're reading this Myke, if you tell ANYONE, I will distribute your naked baby photos to the entire state of Florida and a couple choice parts of Oregon via snail mail. That will be all.
So, to the rest of my readers, here's how my day went. Despite my heartwrenching sick puppy impression, I got dragged out fishing. Because fresh air is good for me. And there were pierced worms and flopping fish and inconvenient sprays of water. And muggy weather, and bright sun, and so many bugs. I was sulking behind a slightly damp book when Myke dropped down beside me and said, "You might as well power up. Nobody's going to notice except the mosquitos."
As you can imagine, my razor sharp wit came up with an appropriate reply. About thirty seconds later. I smacked him over the head and told him to keep his voice down, because my sister was like ten feet away. But I upped the frost aura a bit more. The bugs left, and Myke stopped sweating. We talked. I'm halfway terrified at my secret being out to a real live person (besides maybe Dani), and a bit annoyed that he snooped, and a bit thrilled to have someone to actually talk to. I know Myke's been following the news (I don't think he can NOT follow it, actually) but he wasn't scared. I cooled his soda for him. I actually like drinking mine warm, but it's kind of impossible to do that anymore, because it starts cooling down the moment I touch it. I didn't dare do any more, or even sneak Myke an ice chip, since the parental units were kind of watching me to make sure I didn't steal a vehicle and flee the premises.
But he knows. And it's okay. Out of all this horrible weekend, after hearing everyone talk about Killer Frost, after putting up with fishing and camping and car rides, I have someone who understands. I'm typing this on his computer, because he's got my laptop wired into something and the screen is displaying things that aren't my desktop. The computer is actually working for him, and I think he might be debugging it and downloading stuff while he looks for green fire residue, since he's making disapproving noises at me. Like I'm some sort of idiot who doesn't take the lint out of the dryer and then it bursts into flame. Whatever. If he keeps doing that, I'm going to make a sheet of ice down his back.
Wait, are you reading this, Myke? I haven't even posted it.
Myke is a slobbering troll.
You ARE reading it. Quit it. At least be polite and look over my shoulder or something because that's really creepy that you're reading it off a different computer while I'm writing it on the other side of the room. Don't you dare sign into my account and edit this. And stop mocking my typing speed, you jerk.

Wholesome Family Fun

I spent four hours in the car today, with my little sister whining that I was obviously hogging all the air conditioning despite all the vents being aimed at her. Sigh. I am thankful for the inventor of text messaging, since it kept her busy for most of the trip. I buried my nose in a book, but towards the end of the trip I started counting cows. Yes, I'm in THAT part of Florida. We're at my aunt and uncle's house. They don't personally own any cows, but they have a few horses. We're staying there for a whole weekend of fun. We had a family picnic, where I made subtle use of cryogenesis to discourage ants from attacking me, and also ward off food poisoning from the potato salad. I don't even like potato salad, but I had to eat some to make Aunt Eliza happy, despite the obvious risks of mayonnaise in the sweltering sun. I managed to keep from restocking the ice in the cooler, even after it all turned into slush because Jordan left it open. That would have been a little too obvious, and now is really not the time to out myself as a cryogenetic. Not in the wake of what Killer Frost did, and definitely not to my extended family. I mean, they're not even willing to admit that Mycroft is a metatech.
Mycroft is my cousin. I call him Myke, and I can get away with it because I'm older and stronger than he is, and I can get him in a mean headlock. He is the only reason I have internet access right now, way out in the sticks. He's more of a software metatech than the engineer type, but he's managed to do something with turbines and satellite programming so we have internet at his house. Despite the fact that his parents still think they have dial-up. I'm not too curious about the details, because I'm not certain that this is strictly legal. Knowing Myke, he's got some sort of arcane legal loophole prepared in case he gets caught. The whole family knows he's a metatech, even if his parents refuse to admit it. No, their son just has natural talent, by gosh. None of that cheating superpower stuff for him. He's just a whiz with computers, and would love to fix the family computers in his free time. It's his hobby, isn't it? And of course he'll set the timer on the VCR. And explain the functions of the microwave. Myke drew the line at fixing cars, though. He hates engine grease with a passion.
I haven't told Myke that I'm a cryogenetic. I think maybe I should. I mean, we don't get along all the time, but he is my favorite cousin. He's reliable and knows how to keep secrets. I'm pretty sure he's even keeping a few government secrets that aren't really his to keep. He's a metatech, so he could understand where I'm coming from with the superpowers thing. I tried to bring it up subtly in conversation, but Myke's not too good at nuances, and he spent most of the day twiddling morosely on some sleek little phone thing that projects a hologram touch screen about twice its size. I think it might have started as an iPhone. He loves the outdoors just as much as I do. Anyway, I gotta sign off. We're fishing tomorrow. I think I'm gonna fake a cold and stay home. I can certainly fake shivers, a cold sweat and clammy skin.

Don't Eat That Cherry Snow

So, I've given myself a stomachache from all those Freeze Pops. Not really sure if that means I'm vulnerable to cold from the inside, or if I'm allergic to red food coloring, or if I just need to try eating less sugar water and more real food.
I've got to get to bed now, because we have wholesome family activities to do at a disgusting hour of the morning tomorrow. More updates later.

Winter Wonderland: Movies

I've been trying to find reasons to keep using my cryogenesis. The media is bombarding me with images of how NOT to use cryogenesis. I'm not sure if I'm glad that everyone can see what Killer Frost has done, or if I'm angry at how predatory the paparazzi are towards the victims. Mostly I'm just horrified. Nobody deserves to die like that. Not supervillains, not murderers, not anybody.
So I've devoted the past couple of days to therapeutic fluff movies and rediscovering what I love about my powers. I missed yesterday's Winter Wonderland installment, so here it is.
The classic cryogenesis movie is The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. I never really got a feeling of bleak winter horror out of what the White Witch did to Narnia. It seemed like a really awesome place: snowball fights every day, misty breath, frosted windows, ice castles, kickass fur coats. And imagine what that would do for the winter tourism industry. You know the Archenlanders were totally skiing there. I would. I thought Narnia was much cooler in its beautiful stark winter than in spring with all those flower people and snooty lions prancing around. The White Witch had some very pretty sparkly ice effects. I kind of envy her, the way she never gets her outfit wet despite all the snow. The more recent Narnia movie has a really cool scene involving a frozen river. You know, whenever anyone crosses any frozen body of water in a movie, someone is inevitably going to fall in. It's like that rule in theater about how the loaded gun in the desk has to go off by act three. Except this rule is more likely to result in someone pulling the old let's-cuddle-for-body-warmth act, which I don't think you can do with a gun scenario. Unless it's a freeze ray.
Carrying on the tradition of evil cryogenetic women is the Snow Queen, in the movie of the same name. The movie takes place in a wonderful little Germanic town with ice skating, hot chocolate, sledding and all the other seasonal perks of living in a place that isn't Florida. I wish I could make it snow all over Florida for just one day. I've seen real snow before on vacations, but some people never have. That strikes me as unutterably sad. Anyway, the Snow Queen has an awesome sled and a polar bear and some sort of mirror mind control-ish power that I never quite got. I highly recommend the movie.
In the X-Men movies, Bobby (Iceman) has a cameo. He does a cute thing with his powers, making a blooming rose out of ice. I admire his delicate touch, and the way he got the ice so clear, but perhaps it's not a good idea to hand something that cold to someone you like. Just because you're immune to cold doesn't mean your sweetheart is. Also, she probably doesn't want to carry around a chunk of ice that will melt all over her textbooks. In later movies Bobby does standard stuff like walls of ice, but he doesn't get much screen time. I know he's fictional, but I'm kind of relating to him. My powers look a lot like his, except not as good. I might be able to make a wall of ice, but then I'd have to find some place to hide it until it melts. I tried making an ice rose. I had to make all the petals separately and then make more ice to stick them together. It was kind of blobby, but it looked rose-ish. Kind of. I don't think I've seen Bobby make snow in the movies either, but I think he can in the comic books. Maybe I'm the type of cryogenetic who's just supposed to make ice instead of snow.
More recently, there is Frozone in the Incredibles. I like how he breaks away from the stereotype of Aryan cryogenetics. Seriously, just because I can make ice doesn't mean I'm descended from people who lived in icy climates. That's like saying every hydrokinetic has the last name Fisher. It doesn't work that way, people! Frozone was more of a cryokinetic than a cryogenetic, because he used ambient humidity, but he managed to produce amazing amounts of ice, really fast. His power also produces fluffy snow, which I envy because he uses it to cushion a couple impacts. Also, he could hypothetically start a snowball fight AT ANY MOMENT. Imagine living with that potential. I just have my little hail balls, and I wouldn't want to use those in a friendly fight because they're solid ice. It's like having a pillow fight after stuffing your pillowcase with bricks. Frozone has very aerated ice for the most part. It's white, unlike the mostly clear glasslike stuff Bobby makes in the movies. Frozone also does that classic violating-the-laws-of-physics skating ramp ice thing, except he disintegrates it behind him to reuse the water. I totally wish I could do that.
So in essence, I've been avoiding the news and watching movies that make me want to use my cryogenesis in new ways. I've also invented a way to motivate myself to practice every day: Freeze Pops. Little tubes of flavored water, which I can turn into popsicles merely by holding them and concentrating. I think I'm going to run out of room in my stomach and Freeze Pops in my fridge before I hit the limits of my power or even get appreciably better at freezing things in my hand, but this is the best practice tool ever.

Broken Prison

Have you been watching the news? I never realized that ice could do that much damage. It's a sobering thought. They'll have to build an entirely new prison, and prisons aren't exactly delicate works of architecture. It's not just broken pipes and frosty windows. The prison doesn't really have right angles any more, just bulging mounds and spires of ice with dark lumps trapped in it. There are no sharp lines in the ice, just irregular wobbles and curves, but it doesn't look funny or harmless or beautiful at all. I've seen those National Geographic pictures of icebergs and shattered rocks, but it always seemed so abstract, so artsy. When you look at something like a broken concrete and iron building, wrenched from its foundations and shattered into jagged boulders slimed over with ice, then cryogenesis stops seeming all winter wonderland pretty. There are people impaled on icicles, or frozen to death, or with blocks of ice in their lungs. There are parts of people everywhere, and the ice is so dirty that there's no way of telling what's grime and what used to be part of a person. The media has been merciless in its coverage. They're still extracting prisoners from the wing that was furthest away from Killer Frost, and they've had to pull a lot of the Midwest pyrokinetics to do it without boiling anyone to death. Even with all the professionals and tools far more sophisticated than hairdryers and screwdrivers, people are coming out minus their faces, fingers and skin.
This is ugly. I got the shivers watching the news feeds. It makes me afraid of what I can do. I would never, ever do something like this. But one day, I might be able to. And nobody is going to have as much confidence in the strength of my principles as I do. Nobody would think my word that I'm a good person would be enough to keep everyone else safe. And I'm not entirely sure I could blame them for that.
When a cryogenetic like me starts seeing eye to eye with people like Angela Slater, it's confusing to everyone's world view. But honestly, superhumans can be terrifying at times. Even when you're one of them.

Killer Frost: What's He Up To?

If you guessed 'killing people,' you are correct. It's shit like this that makes me cringe to call myself a superhuman, let alone a cryogenetic. It's not that all the cryogenetics out there are batshit crazy serial killers. It's just that the most visible ones are. There was even a freaking league of evil assholes specifically devoted to cryogenesis, trying to start up a new ice age. Cryo isn't around any more to tip the scales with cute charity events like free ice skating for orphans or whatever. Every time you hear of a cryogenetic there's always some picture of frostbitten faces and people shattered into little bloody ice shards. Now that Killer Frost is out of jail and murdering people again, it's just going to get worse.
On less depressing topics, last night I babysat for the demon kids next door. Their parents were escaping for a date or anniversary or whatever, and I had to entertain them, feed them, then stuff them into their beds. Naturally, they're picky eaters, they're easily bored, they argue over ridiculous trifles, and don't like listening to me. And to top it off, one of them managed to douse himself in orange juice, and he just LOVES baths, let me tell you. I'm almost willing to trade jobs with Vector right now, if only to watch him suffer.