“Mrs. Yamada thinks I have self-esteem problems, but I do suck, so it’s more like I’m too aware of my reality. My blaster power is okay, because it’s mine, but it’s kind of all or nothing, leaning just a bit toward nothing, especially if I’m avoiding trying to kill, which I am.”

“Okay,” I said. I thought of him jumping off the train. I wondered how honest he was about it. “The mover power, it lets you…”

“Stop.”

He stepped back, then jogged a few steps, stopping mid-run, as if he’d frozen in time. He hadn’t, though. While suspended at an angle someone else would have tipped over, he twisted around and put a foot out to one side. He moved in another direction, back to his board.

“Any limitations? If I used my full strength and threw you, would you only slow down?”

“No. I’d stop. If I timed it right, I could fall from a plane, hit terminal velocity and then stop myself just before hitting the ground. It’s—it’d be useful then, it’s useful if I want to not fall over or if I want to maneuver a bit. But it’s not that amazing as powers go.”

He wasn’t lying, then. Not about that. There were uses, but it did sound somewhat limited for even a secondary power.

He seemed to read something in my expression, because he had further protests, “It’s really not that amazing. I have to wait between each use of it, and it’s not something I can build a name or identity around. The emotion power has no impact or visual side to it, so it’s out too.”

“A few of the multi-triggers I’m aware of tend to have more… I’m not sure what the word is. Esoteric or abstract names. The one villain in my town was Circus. The solution to a disparate set of powers is to just create something more out there that has its own identity, and then fit your powers to match, instead of trying to fit your identity to a random set of powers.”

“Identity like what?”

“Like… if you’re standing back and using your blaster power, maybe something like a warlock aesthetic. You could have a robe, multiple arms, you’ve got your ‘magic’, both with the blaster power and the emotion one.”

“No,” he said, quieter than before. He stared at the board. “Not like that. That’s not me and I don’t want to go there.”

“Okay,” I said. I folded my arms, looking at the names he’d put down. “If you like video games… is there an aesthetic or character or kind of game you could tap into?”

“I’d be worried about choosing something I get tired of a month from now.”

“Just…” I started, trying to think of a good argument. “Just as a starting point, to get you thinking.”