It had been nearly six weeks since I joined the SLA and so far my 'training' had consisted of watching a lot of instructional videos, trying (and mostly failing) to keep up with the intense gym regimen that Justin had assigned me, very occasionally practicing controlling my power, and analyzing recordings of the city's heroes in action...in slow motion.
Justin, my recruiter and occasional jerkoff buddy, wasn't terribly keen on giving me first-hand experience.
"Look, Nick. Your power is novel, I'll give you that—" he had told me, "—and like I said before, I could see it coming in handy during a pinch, but you've never had proper training. You're not exactly at peak physical performance. And there is a lot of red tape I need to get through before you even see the far side of a combat area."
He was right, of course, but I was getting antsy sitting in a dark room watching video clips all day. I wasn't thrilled about getting thrown into harm's way, but doing nothing was starting to eat through my patience reserves.
Once I tried to use a pheromone nudge to make him a little more open to the idea of letting me do something more hands-on, but in return he shut down my power. It was the first time I'd ever seen him use his power and the first time (that I know of) I'd ever had someone use their power on me. I don't know how to describe it except to say it was like being dumped into a cold bath: jolting, disturbing, and it left me feeling rattled for longer than you would think.
By the time I was able to speak again his eyes were already shifting from emerald-green back to their natural hazel. Not everyone has a 'tell' — some external signifier that they were using or had recently used their power — but some do, usually the stronger powers. The flashier ones. I, of course, do not.
"Don't try to push me again, Nick. Or I'll shut you off for a week."
I had no idea if his power could work that long-term, but I didn't want to find out either. I kept my pheromones to myself after that.
I'm sure it sounds like Justin was hard on me in those early days, and it's true, he was. But he was always clear that this was a part of becoming a superhero, that it was like any other job and that I'd be no good to myself or my future teammates without proper training. I didn't know it then, but Justin, for all his easy smiling and casual attitude toward sex, had seen heroes — friends even — die, and that has to leave some scars.
And it wasn't all bad.
Eventually Justin and I headed to a local gym and he had me practice on the people working out. He explained that a part of my training would be an extensive survey of human psychology & physiology. This would teach me the limits of altering someone's impulses without them becoming aware that something was being done to them. It was the standard training for telepaths, which I wasn't, but it had been decided that I more or less fit under their umbrella.
So he had me use my power (at a sizable distance for the first time) on a guy on the bench-press. Justin was clear that too much of a push would distract him and could cause him to injure himself, so I had to be subtle. I started off gently, just barely pushing at him, just barely feeling the tension building in my stomach and chest. Even with only six weeks of training behind me I could already feel how different it felt to use my power with a body that was a little more fit. It was like using a finely tuned violin after strumming on a homemade fiddle.
The guy on the bench-press didn't seem affected at first so I put a little more into it. I had to be careful that I was properly isolating my influence to this one guy and not affecting the entire area. My power is complicated chemically and I can barely keep track of the specifics that they've pinned down in the SLA labs. Basically it comes down to this, I can produce incredibly general (which is easier) or precision pheromones keyed to certain individuals (which is not so easy), alter them on the fly, and generally fuck with everything from sex drive to hunger to general mood. Guess which one's my favorite?
I still couldn't tell if he was feeling it so I gave him a little extra jolt and the bar wobbled in his hands. I could catch Justin's expression in my periphery and I apologized while trying to even out my output. Sweat was starting to form on my forehead and behind my ears from the effort. If it was this hard to control my power, I couldn't imagine grappling with something like laser beams or weather.
It took another few moments of consistent pressure before the guy decided to hand off the weights to his spotter and sit up. He gave some excuse to his friend or personal trainer, whoever the other guy was, and then headed off to the locker room. I grinned widely. His erection was way too prominent to be easily concealed.
