The skate park glistened with puddles in the freshly ended rain. Lincoln stood in his muddy black Pumas, and grey tracksuit. He strapped on his mood-reading bangles, both a way to protect his wrists and a way to check the intensity of his emotions. Grey was its default color, and as it oscillated to another color of the spectrum, Linc could focus on channeling that emotion or allowing it to subside.

“Just like we rehearsed, gentle me’s.” Linc took deep breaths and focused on his most amiable emotion. His bangles began to shift to a bright yellow, as he thought of this exercise actually working, imagining all his clones cooperating for once.

He held an even fighting stance and prepared to give a gleeful karate chop. His whole body shivered and the feeling of his very cells replicating flooded his whole system, until a mirror replica of his black Pumas and tracksuit popped off him like a bubble blown with a hint of joy.

“This may work!” The Hopeful Motus faced Linc with a smile, and bowed in respect to the original.

“You and I first, Hope.” Linc threw a punch and Hop blocked, then threw a counter-kick, causing Linc to back away. Linc’s bangle, which was grey at the moment, then turned into a soft red before returning to grey.

“Maybe try again?” The Hopeful Motus threw another kick at Linc, who dodged and threw a flurry of punches. It was difficult to get mad at a clone of himself that was so encouraging.

“Hm. We can keep trying, Stoic.” Hope said, throwing a roundhouse kick that almost hit Linc in the nose. The two continued to spar.

Eisen spun his bowstaff as he walked along the telephone wires with his mutation, by spatially locking his soles with every step he took, pretending to ride the wires like a tight-rope. He wore white Pumas and a bright yellow hoodie with pink joggers. As soon as the rain stopped, he had hopped out of his apartment and made his way down to the nearby skate park knowing it would most likely be empty as the cement dried.

To his dismay, there seemed to be a person fighting with a stunt double. “They sparring?”

Eisen hatched an idea and as stealthily as a person in all neon could be, descended with his bowstaff in a helicopter motion above his head. If they fought him, perfect. If they were bothered by him and chose to leave, then even better.

Hope stopped returning blows to point at the silly looking adult descending like a villain in a poorly funded indie film.

Linc spun around and held his hands up and adjusted to a more defensive stance, more wary than Hope was at the moment.

Anticipation stirred in his chest, his bangles turning a pigeon-purple.

The person came upon them with intensity but seemingly little malice. He brought his bowstaff down between the two and set them on either side of him.

Hope looked to Linc, and his bangles glowed a brighter yellow.

“Come to spar?” Hope said, as he took a step back to gauge the new kid’s appearance and range.

The kid wasn’t actually a kid, for the prominence of his jaw and styled messiness of his curly, ginger hair seemed to possess a certain maturity of one in their twenties.

Eisen looked impressed. Though he’d only held and spun the bowstaff every day for the past year, the extendable apparatus given to him by an old friend from the rink, became a constant companion of his. However, the bowstaff laid victim to Eisen’s perfectionism and hid in his closet most days, the lad still lacking the confidence to do anything public with the instrument.

Today was a day he felt different.

“No, I’m here to tickle you with my giant poking stick.” Eisen feigned a blow at the one who spoke, who leaned back slightly, only to swerve and swing a strike at the other one who had less energy of the two.

Linc anticipated a strike, and as soon as the neon dude aimed in his direction, his body rippled and two extra pairs of hands stepped forward to grab the end of the bowstaff. Unless this man had super strength, this would provide enough opportunity for Hope on the other end to further destabilize the man.

His Anticipation Motus stood beside Lincoln, their bodies pressing against each other, heartbeats asynchronized. Ant’s faster than the original, but both sharing the same intention at the moment to contain the man and watch out for any tricks.

Hope cheered out loud on the other side and rushed in to throw a kick at the neon dude, aiming for his legs.

Eisen’s eyes lit up when the dude produced another stunt double almost instantaneously and four arms grabbed the end of his bowstaff.

“Clones? Y’all are mutants!!!” Eisen secured his grip on his bowstaff and channeled his energy through it, locking it spatially into place.

Now if the clones tried to yank the staff from him, they would be met with a ton of resistance, being unable to overpower his spatial lock unless they too had super strength.

With his bowstaff essentially a stable pole, Eisen used his upper body strength to pull himself up in the air and avoid the clone at his back’s kick. With his body in the air, he spatially locked his soles and waited until the side-by-side clones figured out his shtick.

Since these peeps could easily overpower him with numbers, Eisen created space between them, using his aerial prowess to keep a leg up over them. If they were going to use their mutation, then his wasn’t off limits either. Time to fight mutated flames with mutated flames.

Linc and Ant grabbed onto the staff and intended to yank it from his grasp with their combined strength, but found themselves unable to do so. As they struggled, Linc winked to Ant and let go stepping in close and aiming a kick at the man’s hands.

Hope, on the other end, allowed his low kick to miss as he then leaped back, not wanting to be hit by an aerial counterstrike. The neon dude then seemed to hang suspended in the air for a moment, as if time itself had stopped, before he resumed a steady range of motion.

Ant held on to the bowstaff- even if he should falter, at least there would be one in the way of the man’s weapon.

Eisen, using his spatially locked soles, then leveraged his bowstaff so that it pulled the clone holding tight to it towards the ground. Should he refuse to let go, he’d hurtle toward the Earth as well, disorienting his fighting stance.

As for the man who aimed a kick at his hands, the bowstaff levered in time to block the kick at a 45degree angle, Eisen spatially locking it at the moment of the strike so as to not be knocked down.

He then withdrew up into the air, righting himself and looked down at the three clones. Or was it two clones and an original? He wasn’t sure.

“Ok. Ya got me. I know a fight I can’t win when I see it. The name’s Eisen.” He stared down at the men, his eyes scanning the grey tracksuits, black Pumas and different color wristbands.

In order for them to realize he had truly given up, he initiated the mechanic on his bowstaff causing it to withdraw into itself, shortening to a length the size of his forearm. He then attached it to a custom sheath slung around his torso.

“You prepping for a fight or something? I mean, you’re not bad. But I know bloodlust when I see it, and none of you seem to have been in a real fight before.”

Eisen stepped back in the air and slowly alighted to the ground so as to address the clones in an arc.

“Hey that was still pretty good of us!” Hope mused, as he ran up to Linc and Ant, slinging both arms around their necks, seeming to fully believe this so called Eisen no longer posed a threat to them.”

Ant leered at Eisen, with Hope around his neck, still grasping with his hands. The shock of being unable to grab the bowstaff despite having the two of them holding onto it still baffled him. He was cautious about the true extent of this fellow mutant’s ability, but kept his mouth shut.

Lincoln, recognizing like Hope, that this man seemed to truly be withdrawing for the moment, spoke up for all three.

“You seem just as inexperienced.” He said, arms crossed and a little annoyed by Hope’s eagerness.

“To leap into a fight like that, not knowing who you were up against. Reckless. Reminds me of the kids who start off at the dojo and want to show off their skills to whoever’s there to watch.”

Hope squeezed Linc and Ant’s neck a little before and letting them both go and stepping forward to offer a handshake to Eisen.

“Well since we’re all new. I’m Linc’s clone, that guy over there, and we were hoping, yes, to prepare for a fight. Should we ever run into one.”

Eisen smiled, and stepped forward to consolidate the clone's handshake, as he looked to all three and focused his soles.

The left sole of his foot connected through the ground and to the clothes of the clone on the left, his right sole to Lincoln himself, and to the clone whose hand he was shaking, Eisen slipped his hand slightly up further so that his fingerless glove came in contact with the clone's sleeve.

Then all at once, he spatially locked all of their clothes as he glared at the clone in the eye.

"Well the moment you trusted me was the moment you all lost. Should this have been a real fight, laddies." Eisen said as he moved his last free hand up to the frozen clone's nose and gave it a little "boop."

He smiled and gave a stare hat bled amused, and not sinister. He waited until the expressions on their faces changed such as they realized their clothes became as stiff as staight-jackets and he held them in suspension until the words bled through their mouths. He stared for as long as it took for their hysteria to grow and reach a point, before he decided what to do next.

The moment Hope let down his guard, Lincoln could feel anger boiling inside his chest. This man may have been reckless, but that was not enough to bet on their numbers as an assuredness that they could put their guard down.

Just as soon as Hope made contact with the man and Lincoln wanted to reach out to pull him back, a strange sensation came about him. The only thing he could maneuver was his head as the clothes that conformed to his body became like concrete. Since they hugged his body so tight, his range of motion was limited to the point that he could not apply a force to escape from his clothes unless he risked ripping through the fabric himself.

He wasn't sure how the mutant in front of him was doing this, but Lincoln's rage began to build all the more.

"I knew it. I knew it. Look what you got us into, Hope!" Ant began to mutter his frustrations out loud as he too learned the same things Linc began to learn about their new clothing-prisons.

Hope's demeanor refused to sour. "Oh.... Oh! So the fight's not over yet. We can get out of this, guys, right? Linc? I-I, mean Stoic..." Hope's embarrassment flashed for a moment as the sudden realization that he revealed their name to a still-possible-threat loomed over him. He received Eisen's boop on the nose however, and sprung back to his hopeful reassurance that this guy may still actually be a friend.

Lincoln's rage built up even more until a new clone split off him, this time budding off from his body from the front, arms reaching out to strangle Hope.

Yet, the paralysis of their clothes seemed to envelop him just as soon as he budded off of Lincoln, such that he too was stuck in an airborne position, almost looking like a modern-statue in the way he was conjoined to the original.

Eisen's face contorted like a kid on Christmas morning who had witnessed Santa Clause himself stuff presents under the tree and drink the milk and eat the cookies. The first time everyone became prey to his clothing-prison technique was always priceless. Eisen lived for that moment when people realized, if they want to escape then they'd have to risk becoming naked. He had reinforced his technique such that his spatial lock was stronger than most fabrics, save leather.

What was even funnier was when the original tried to make a clone that also got himself trapped in the spatial lock. Eisen didn't know if this was intentional on the man's part, but the only downside to his technique was that it required a lot of focus to maintain.

Eisen burst out laughing, and clutched his stomach, before falling to the ground in his stupor. The lot of them's faces, all the same faces, each with varying emotions and all trapped in his spatial lock. It was all too priceless. Such a beautiful image he would cherish in his mind for the rest of his waking life, such that he would risk their brutality for a moment so that he could enjoy the belly-laugh that resulted from their idiocy.

"You guys. Are. The best! Can we please be friends??? Hahaha. Seriously y'all are such a hoot!" Eisen cackled on the ground before he sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

As soon as the dude fell to the ground, so did the Anger Motus fall, from a height above Linc's waist to the concrete floor. He grunted in pain as his anger grew and grew. Linc helped him up quick, but the Anger Motus pushed his hands away as soon as he got back on his two feet.

The other two looked each other in the eyes. They both knew that look, with eyes narrowed and lip snarled, Wrath's whole body shaking with bloodlust.

"Hold your horses there pal, murder isn't on the menu today." Hope stood in front of Eisen on the ground, defensive stance, ready to face Wrath head on.

Anticipation stood beside Hope, less brazen and bold, but still of the same mind as the hopeful Motus. The sound of Eisen cackling on the ground wasn't helping his nerves any bit.

Lincoln knew best not to grab onto Wrath in this form, the worst of them save for sheer Indifference and maybe even Hate. The two of which, were not wont to surface frequently enough to test his theory.

"You two assholes better get out of my way." Wrath grunted through his clenched teeth, as if smoke could billow from the orifices on his face.

"Eisen, dude. You gotta lock him down again, so we can knock him out." Hope beckoned the neon-clad man to stand back up again before Wrath could strike. 

"Too late, Wrath spun and grabbed Lincoln by the collar and swung him at the two clones, both of which sought to catch the original, before he hurtled head first into the cement, knowing he was the one going to sustain serious damage. Linc's disoriented expression, coupled with Hope and Ant crashing all headfirst into each other, led them all into a dogpile that Wrath soon leaped over to lunge straight at Eisen.

Eisen held his belly laugh until tears flowed down his face. Even the commotion between the clones wasn't enough to snap him out of his humorous stupor. He sat up a little just to see finally the face of the Wrathful clone take down all three of the others.

"Woah, buddy, hold your horses." Because the clone was running towards him, he wouldn't have been able to focus quick enough in this position he was in to lock him in time, so he scrambled upward into the sky. Spinning around and off the ground, clawing to get himself away from the dude who was quickly closing in the gap.

"Shit, shit, shit." Eisen tripped a little as he fell face forward, and rolled over on his stomach on the ground. His belly laugh still leaving remnants of weakness throughout his body. This whole scenario was just so ridiculous.

Just then he felt a kick to his ribs that sent him sprawling on the ground. The air out of his lungs escaped faster than a popped balloon and his vision splintered. Another kick to his ribs, and another, until Eisen was able to grab onto one the clone's shoed feet and held him in a spatial lock.

Eisen cried, but held the lock as long as he could. The kicks surrendered for a moment as he hoped that would be enough for the other three to recover and help take this maniac down.

"You shitface. Ruining our morning!" Wrath managed to land three kicks on the neon man before his focus slipped and got himself caught in that dreaded matrix-like freeze tag.

"Dammnit!" Wrath braced for what he knew was coming. Arms caught his neck and two arms, Lincoln and the other two clones caught up with the Angry Motus to help seize him. Just like that, Wrath allowed his body to go slack, as Eisen's grip on his clothes disappeared as soon as it started as well.

"Don't make me force you." Lincoln said, ready to squeeze against Wrath's neck in a choke hold.

"I'll be back idiots. And when I'm back, know that he's--" Wrath ate his words as Lincoln squeezed tightly and the two other clones nodded their approval. With Wrath soon detained, Lincoln was able to absorb him back into him, full wrathful spirit and bruised ego. He had to kneel on the ground as all of Wrath's memories seeped and merged with his as well.

Hope then knelt beside Eisen and shook his face at the man, who clutched his ribs in pain.

"Damn. You alright? Stoic, we owe this guy an icecream at the very least, and to pay for his medical bills at most." Hope remained himself, hopeful that Eisen was even conciliatory at this point. 

Lincoln stood near Eisen on the ground. "Technically, Wrath acted in self-defense. We owe this guy nothing."

Ant nodded at Lincoln, though he too knelt beside Eisen. Self-defense or not, if this guy lost his good mood from earlier, who knows what could happen. It was not safe to assume that a man knocked-down would actually admit defeat.