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Mount Erebus is the southernmost active volcano on Earth, and the second largest active volcano on Antarctica. Fire, and Ice.
Elanor “Elly” Ryan was born and raised in Plainfield, Connecticut. She’s the elder of Lewis and Marjorie Ryan’s two children (Thomas is two years younger than her). Her dad was in jail more often than he was home, usually due to charges of theft, assault, and finally, involuntary manslaughter. Her mother held down two jobs for as long as Elly could remember, doing housekeeping at a local motel, and waitressing at the family-style restaurant across from that motel. They lived in a trailer park with Marjorie’s mother, who gave Marj childcare while the kids were too young to be on their own.
While Elly was still in grade school, one of her older cousins was in his high school production of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, and she was completely enraptured by the performance. It’s not that the production itself was fabulous, but the thought that people she knew could put on costumes and sing and dance, just like the people on tv and on video! When she found a copy of the Broadway version of Cats online, and saw the acrobatics the dancers performed, and all the twittering and slapstick in an old version of The Pirates of Penzance, Elly knew that that was what she wanted to do. She used all of her screen time on dance tutorials, signed up for after school dance classes and clubs, started working out to get stronger and able to do any move she was shown: she did not want to disappoint on auditions, on the performance angle. In learning how to dance, she expanded to acrobatics, as some of her video rabbit holes lead her to martial arts movies, and Bollywood productions.
Because her father was often not at home, and the landlord of their rented mobile home couldn’t be bothered with most problems that arose within the walls, Elly and Thomas learned how to do most household maintenance repairs, and basic handy-work. Since Elly was learning so much in her University of YouTube, she taught herself a lot of basic building, and how it could be applied to stage. And one can’t have a stage production without costuming, amiright? She learned how to make awesome Halloween costumes for her and Thom, and then actual, functional clothing, by altering whatever she could find by going through the local thrift shops and modifying whatever she could afford.
By the time Elly started her senior year of high school, she was a fixture in the Drama Club, as well as on the cheerleading squad. She worked weekends at the local Regal Burger, giving the bulk of her paycheck to her mother to help with the bills, since her dad was in jail, again, serving the second year of a decade for vehicular manslaughter while under the influence. Lewis was unaware of what a talented daughter he had, Marj knew, intellectually, but was too tired to do much than half-heartedly cheer her on. Gran had given Elly her first lessons in how to use a sewing machine, and was excited with every achievement her granddaughter earned. Thom thought it was cool that his sister could make pretty much damned near anything, and was always ready to swing a hammer next to her or change out the u-bend under the kitchen sink. Thom was already planning on going to trade school after he finished high school.
But Elanor wanted the spotlight. She wanted to be the one people made fan-art of, the memes, playlists on the streaming services. Between her homegrown physical regimen to keep her limber, to keep herself in shape, to keep herself nimble and graceful, her hours at Regal Burger, her commitments to Cheer and Drama, she was able to squeeze in something resembling a social life, by dating one of her coworkers at the burger place, Nathan Jones. He graduated the year before, and had been on the football team.
By the time she graduated, Nate had been recruited into a local criminal organization, and was one of their Heavy Muscle types (not super, just tough-guy). At first, he was primarily a bouncer at a nightclub, which was a front for the group. Elly knew some of the other bouncers, as they were athletic types a year or two ahead of her in school, but was only vaguely acquainted with them, until Nate started letting her into the club with a fake ID he had supplied to her. A week after he got her the ID, there was a riot at the prison Elly’s dad was in, and Lewis Ryan was one of the casualties.
At first, Elly only knew that Nate was a bouncer there, not what was going on in the back rooms. To her, she was getting in for free, getting some alcohol on the down-low (being under 21), and dancing her frustrations away (like the conflict of not grieving for her dad because she didn’t really know him; he was never around, but he was her dad! She was supposed to feel something!). Towards the end of July, Elly caught Nate cheating on her with one of the bartenders. He promised her that it was a one-time thing, and Elly wanted to believe him, but…
So, she paid more attention to Nate’s whereabouts at the club when she was there, and while he’d have door duty as often as not, he occasionally had “duties” down the staff hallway (which was near the public restrooms). She followed him down that hallway, one Thursday evening, and listened at the door. Yes, Nate was meeting another woman, but it wasn’t for fooling around; the woman was one of Nate’s bosses (or, rather, Bosses), and demanded Nate, “Take this, and finish him.” It was a test of Nate’s loyalty to the crew, and punishment for the “guest,” whatever his transgression had been. Nate hesitated only a moment, before Elly heard through the door the gunshot, and the guy’s gasp of agony. Elanor made a hasty exit from the hallway, and bumped into one of the bouncers. Something on her face showed the bouncer that she’d seen *something*, and his moment’s hesitation before reaching for her gave her the moment she needed to slip onto the crowded dancefloor and make her way out the front entrance.
Elanor had very little personal experience with death: her grandmother’s husband had died before Elly was born, and she’d never met her father’s parents. They’d never had pets, not even goldfish. She’d never gotten into an actual fist-fight; she’d been in choreographed combat in Drama class and club, but no one had ever taken a swing at her (that wasn’t her brother, when they were little kids), nor had she ever lost self-control to slap anyone. Personal violence was actually very new to her, herself.
Elly was about halfway home when Nate started blowing up her phone, demanding she come back to the club, they could work it out, he could explain, she better get her skinny backside back there or she’d really be in trouble, and the threats escalated from there. When she got home, her gran told her that Nate had called the house line (they still had a land-line, for Gran’s sake), asking where she was, and if someone would let him know when she got home. Between the threats on the phone and now the call to her family’s home, Elanor felt she had to get away, to keep her family safe. She kissed her gran’s cheek, told her not to worry, and went into her room. She grabbed her two gym bags, and stuffed them with clothes, charging cables, her makeup case, ID, SS card, and tablet. As she was stuffing her dance shoes and sneakers into a shopping bag, the house line rang again. Gran answered it, and confirmed it was Nate, that he was coming over. Elly grabbed her bags and threw everything into the back of her Honda Civic, and said goodbye to Gran. “I have to go, and when he gets here, go ahead and let him see my room. I’ll call you when I get somewhere.” Gran begged for more information, but Elly refused to answer.
“Did he hurt you?” Gran finally demand-asked.
“He didn’t touch me. I just have to go,” Elly replied, looking the older woman in the eyes. “I’ll call, later.”
With that, Elanor threw her stuff into her Honda Civic, and started driving. Nate was pulling up to the trailer park’s entrance as she pulled out, so he followed in his truck. She saw him in her rear-view mirror, and tried to cut down a side street, and several more side streets, even as her phone rang. One more side-street, but discovered she’d mis-counted, and it was a dead-end in a light-industrial area. Nate blocked the exit with his pickup. Elly sat in the car for a moment, and her phone rang. It was Nate.
“I’m leaving,” she said, by way of greeting. “I’m leaving town. Leave my family out of this.”
“You gotta come with me, Elly-bean. Club wants to offer you a job,” Nate replied. He was trying to sound supportive.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not going back there. Please let me leave,” Elanor said. Her voice was a little high-pitched, but otherwise calm. Tears ran down her face, and her free hand gripped the steering tight, her knuckles white. There was a pressure building at the base of her skull, like a tension headache on steroids.
“Shut off your car, and get. In. The truck,” Nate said, in a growl.
Elly squeezed her eyes shut, her face a mask of pain and despair, but put the car in Park, and shut off the engine. She made no move to get out, however. The headache at the base of her skull grew more intense.
“Elly-bean,” Nate said, through the phone. “Come on. Get in my car. Let’s go.”
She hung up on him, and took a deep breath. She tossed the phone to the passenger seat. Her stuff was in the back seat, and her bag with her wallet was in the passenger footwell. She was still in the outfit she wore to the club, earlier. She took another deep breath and released it, opening her car door. She stepped out, and faced the truck. One part of Elanor’s mind noted that her car could squeeze past, if she had to.
Nate stepped out of his truck, and started approaching her. Elanor watched him come closer, as her body cycled through chills and sweats, that headache feeling less an “ache” and more like a slow-speed explosion.
When Nate got within arm’s reach, he lifted one hand, as if to put it on her shoulder. Elanor took a step back, away from him, and threw her own arm up, protectively, yelling, “Don’t touch me!” The chills coursed down that arm and sprayed across Nate. Nate found himself semi-encased in ice, as Elanor gaped at him with disbelief.
“What the hell did you just do?!” Nate exclaimed, trying to twist free of the ice.
Elly took another step back, burning with embarrassment and confusion, and looked at her hands, “I… I don’t know…” and saw that her arms and hands were glowing, as if on fire. Her headache had receded (or at least wasn’t as intense), as she looked from her arms to Nate, who was now gaping at her with disbelief.
“What the hell are you?” Nate gasped, and wriggled harder, trying to break free.
Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Elanor took a deep, calming breath, unaware that her entire body was glowing like fire. Nate’s eyes widened with terror, as the burning hell-beast in his girlfriend’s shape regarded him icily. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me,” the hell-beast said, with Elly-bean’s voice.
She had cooled down enough in the few steps to get back into her car that she didn’t singe her clothes or the driver’s seat, and quickly drove away. She didn’t understand what just happened, but she realized she felt both warmer and cooler, and it was very strange. She didn’t want to examine it too closely at that moment, she was more concerned with putting as much mileage between her and Nate as possible. She hopped onto the freeway, and headed “away.”
Adrenaline kept her going for a while, but Elly realized as she stopped for some fast-food, she needed to figure out where she was going. She pulled up cities along the eastern seaboard, and what sort of theater/dance scene they had. She decided Freedom City might serve her well: lower cost of living, not unreasonably far from NYC and Broadway (her ultimate destination), but enough of a live theater scene (musical and non-) that she could probably make a (stage) name for herself, there. Hopefully, she could figure out what was going on with her own body, too. Ice spray? Fire body? That’s super-hero stuff, not her…
Not her, right? Not Elanor.
But, all those supers there, if she had powers, maybe she could find help in training them. So she wouldn’t be a danger to herself, and others. She needed to learn what she could do, if that was the case, how to control it.
First things first. Get to Freedom City itself. Safely. She found a motel on the outskirts, where she could at least get some sleep. She’d make some phone calls in the morning, to let her family know she was okay, and to let her boss know she wasn’t going to be coming in. Ever.
Elanor was able to sell off her little Civic for a scooter (easier to park, cheaper to run). She rented a teeny-tiny studio apartment, took a part-time job at Buckysters, goes to auditions or rehearsals as needed, and then trades labor for meals, or use of a washing machine. She has a gym membership, which allows her to keep herself in shape for dancing. Shortly after getting to Freedom City, she cut her hair short, for ease of care with her limited resources.
Shortly after cutting off her hair, she discovered her invisibility, when a robber came into the convenience store at which she was getting some pre-audition snacks. Elanor hadn’t fully gained voluntary control of her ice blast, so she was hesitant to use it, in case she got the cashier as well as the robber (or it missed the robber entirely!). She had been heading to the counter when the guy came in. He hadn’t seen her, as she was just about to step out from the snack aisle.
She was mentally calculating what the total would be when she looked up and saw the gun pointed at the cashier. Elly gasped, dropping her armload of goodies, and stepped back, and felt a sudden piercing sensation behind the bridge of her nose, almost blinding her with the pain of it. She gaped at the gun, the robber, and stood stock-still. The robber turned, swinging the gun with him towards the sound, and saw the snacks on the floor, but nobody near them. The cashier looked startled, as well; there was somebody there just a moment ago, but she faded out!
Three years have since passed. Elly has developed the self-control so that her powers don’t activate accidentally. She’s discovered that she understands far more than just the high school Spanish she took, and will trade on her ability to translate for a meal at one of several ethnic restaurants. She’s also had to make a lot of her own wardrobe from inherently flame-resistant fabric, due to her flame aura. She trades her sewing skills with theater costumers for bolt-ends of IFRF, and an hour’s use of a serger or sewing machine, depending on what garment she’s working on. Even though she’s since acquired a morphic-suit, she continues making more clothes for herself. A single layer of nanites doesn’t keep one warm in the middle of winter. She’s also been learning various self-defense methods, trading her sewing skills and translation abilities for sparring partners and further lessons. In her efforts to get maximum benefit from minimal monetary outlay, she’s developed a network of people who can do any number of things, and hears gossip about their acquaintances. If she doesn’t actually know somebody, she knows somebody who will know somebody.
Elanor is a talented dancer, and a very good singer. She uses “Elizabeth Bastion” as a stage-name and for social media, in case Nate is still looking for her. She is only in contact with her grandmother, calling her several times a week. She venmo’s half of her paychecks into her mother’s bank account.
As “Lady Erebus,” LE will use her comedic timing to try and keep threats focused on her rather than innocent or weak targets, using whatever is at hand to fling at her foes or defend herself from them.