#thedazedsuperpower

[thedazedyouth]

Time Loop

Superpower Au

Somehow, against all odds, a group of enhanced individuals found each other in the city of Los Santos. Previously afraid and alone, they slowly grew together and became the family that they each needed and never had. They had a random mixture of abilities, none of them quite relating clearly to its possessor, but they were useful; maybe not in the regular superhero good-doer kind of way, but definitely useful. They typically used them for mischief and crimes, borderlining malicious but helping too many people to be considered truly ‘evil’.

Gavin originally thought he was a plain human, never once believing in magic, even as a child; the real world was too cruel to let him have hope. But when Gavin was only fourteen, before he had meet any of the Fakes, he fell off the top of a skyscraper. It was based on a dare from some kid when he was still in school, and with a hundred bucks on the line, Gavin wasn’t about to let the kid win.

Gavin hit the pavement hard. His bones breaking and shattering the moment he struck the ground.

Then he woke up.

He was back in his makeshift bed, his clothes from the previous day were still intact and loosely hanging onto his body. Gavin tentatively went on his day and by the end of it realized he was either having a severe case of deja vu, or he had literally lived that day before.

So when he was stood peering up at the tallest building in town with a group of kids and one of them dared him to moon the city from there, Gavin walked away.

His ability never came up in casual conversation with the Fakes, their powers showed themselves in various ways throughout their heists and missions. But when Gavin used his ability, they never knew. They carried on their day like normal, only Gavin having that slight future sight to try and protect the others.

The Fakes thought he was overly cautious and protective. Whenever something went wrong during a job, it was always Gavin demanding a roll call, not relaxing until he heard everyone’s voice. The others never remembered the silence from Gavin when he learned or even suspected someone was dead. They didn’t remember hearing an explosion or a single gunshot from him. And they never saw the pain in his eyes when he realized what he had to do.

That is, until Geoff grilled him to reveal his power. Then they finally understood the way his body relaxed when reunited with a crew member that had disappeared for too long, or his apathy when someone was hurt; even when it was life threatening, Gavin never seemed worried or scared for them.

Sad realization spread across everyone when Gavin said, or done something that was too rehearsed or anything less than his erratic behaviour. A soft nod came from Geoff when Gavin shot down a plan or two. The other Lads and Ryan listened to him if there was more desperateness in his voice than annoyance.

It wasn’t uncommon for Gavin to reply to a question before it was asked, or say something the same time as someone else. The Fakes had stopped paying attention when Gavin did such things, carrying on with their conversation and day without a second thought.

But one day Michael had noticed Gavin doing so more than usual; and he did it with less Gavin-y-ness. His actions had turned robotic, they were bored and his voice had lost his enthusiasm and was cold. Michael knew Gavin would never explain it fully, and Michael only hoped it wouldn’t last much longer.

Later that day, they were situated round the penthouse lounge, the curtains drawn and the only light was shining on Geoff’s presentation. He was showing a detailed explanation of everyone’s roles and jobs during their next heist. Geoff glanced over to Gavin, who was resting against the coffee table, for confirmation of the plan.

Gavin was staring at the ground just before him, his knees were drawn to his chest and he just shook his head.

“That won’t work,” he muttered.

Geoff nodded, he was prepared for that response. So he went through the next plan and the next and then the next. At every suggestion Gavin disagreed, even saying how each one failed.

“Jeremy dies.”

“Ryan gets shot.”

“Jack’s exploded.”

“Ryan gets shot again.”

“Michael.”

“Michael.”

“Geoff and Ryan.”

“Jack.”

“Jeremy.”

“Jesus, Gav. How many times have we died?” Michael interrupted, his tone was angry but had an edge of concern.

Gavin laughed from his position on the floor, it was dark and defeated. “I dunno man,” he said at last. “I kinda lost count, to be honest.” Gavin laughed again.

“I’m sorry,” Geoff whispered.

Gavin shrugged. “Don’t worry, it was only your fault once.”

[thedazedyouth]

Keep Running

Superpower AU

Being abandoned at five years old, spending most days running from the cops and growing up on the streets will give a person a “it’s me or you” attitude, a “I’ll do whatever it takes” outlook. This was definitely the case for a nineteen year old Michael Jones. Life wasn’t forgiving, and it made sure to beat that message into him, literally.

Though, it was that attitude that had kept him alive for fourteen years; and taught him more than any well-meaning cops or last minute foster family that lasted for a week at most.

For the first nine years he was alone, Michael would latch onto an adult in a similar situation. They would provide safety, food and shelter; as best as a homeless person could. The only thing he had to give in return was his unique skill set. It was much easier for a skinny kid to sneak into somewhere than an old man. Eventually Michael learned not to trust those kinds of people, as the moment he was caught, he was left behind.

The only good thing to come from those years was the realization he enjoyed explosions and fire, more than the average little kid. He spent a few months with a man that had stolen a range of fireworks prior to meeting him. The man said he was waiting for the right moment to use them. So when he left Michael behind to save himself, Michael decided it was the right time. The deserted house the man had claimed burnt to the ground mysteriously one day, and Michael never bothered to find out whether the man was in there or not.

It didn’t take long for him to grow sick of his life, despite how hard he tried he couldn’t get anywhere. He had even left behind the only place he’s ever known to move to a foreign city by means of buses, hitchhiking and walking for days. Only to be greeted with the exact same thing as before. His parents were right to get rid of him.

When he was younger he had watched the building of the cities’ tallest tower and resented it. The price of it was an amount no person should ever need. When he moved to Los Santos he found more reasons to be angry. The city loomed over the streets, making everyone seem like nothing in comparison.

Michael couldn’t remember when his birthday was but he decided one July, he was going to give himself the best present possible.

In the heart of Los Santos, Michael chose his target. It wasn’t the most gorgeous or the tallest in the city but it was the one that Michael felt was right.

It was dangerously easy how Michael found blueprints to homemade bombs, and how many he was able to make undetected. It took him months to make enough but only one night to plant them all in the perfect spots.

The morning sun hadn’t even fully peaked over the mountains that lined the city when Michael strolled passed the lobby and entered the elevator. He stepped into the exact middle level and fired two blanks from a pistol he stole after searching only one house in the suburbs.

There were few people in the office but there was quickly no one except Michael. He pulled up a chair and pushed himself around the room as he waited. Sirens grew closer until they stopped outside the building, as he hoped. A phone from a cubical rang, the cops below wanted to negotiate.

Michael laughed. “Why don’t you come up here yourself then?” He hung up the phone and ignored it when it rang a couple more times.

Michael counted the annoyingly loud ticks of the clock hung above the only entrance or exit. He got to 374 when there was a rough knock at the door.

“You wanted to negotiate?” yelled a voice.

“It’s open,” Michael shouted back.

A man walked in with his arms raised. A black vest covered his white shirt and had LSPD printed on the front. His hair was dirty blond and had the face of every average white man.

A thought passed through Michael’s mind that the chance of this man having a family were likely. The next thought scared him; Michael didn’t care. If some kids wondered why they never had a dad, it wasn’t Michael’s problem. Why should they complain about having one parent when he had none.

There were a few beats of silence as Michael thought to himself. The cop interrupted the tension.

“What do you want?”

Michael chuckled. “What makes you think I want anything?”

“Well, you didn’t kill anyone, you didn’t take a hostage. But you agreed to talk with me. There must be something you want.” The man was slowly walking closer to Michael, who chose to ignore it.

Michael lent back in the chair. “I just wanted to chat. Y’know my life is quite lonely and I figured this is the easiest way for human interaction.” Michael threw the gun to the cops feet. “Only blanks.”

The man lowered his hands and rested against a desk in an attempt to relax the situation.

“Alright,” he said. “You wanna talk, then let’s just talk. We found your bomb round back, gonna talk bout that?”

Michael shrugged. “They’ll find out eventually. You won’t though.”

The cop ignored that comment and decided to push further. “What’s your plan? How do you think you’re getting out of this?”

“I know I’m not. That’s the point.”

It was 289 ticks later, there was only 53 left.

“Son, what are you planning,” the cop asked cautiously. “C’mon, talk to me here.”

49 ticks left.

“You got kids?”

The cop nodded. “Two little girls.”

45 ticks.

“Huh. I might actually care. Well, I hope you said I love you before you went to work.”

35.

“You’re just a kid, you don’t have to do whatever this is. If you need help I get it for you.”

25.

Michael’s heart started to pound in his chest as the clock ticked by, the first time in years he’s felt fear.

“This is a mistake,” he whispered.

15.

“What was? Let me help you,” the cop said. “Whatever you need I can get for you. You can get out of this without hurting anyone.”

5.

Michael sighed. “Too late.”

The first explosion rippled through the building and within moments the rest were triggered.

An instinct told Michael to run. So he did.

The flames and debris couldn’t even touch him as he raced past. He sped down the winding stairway and was pushing out the back door. Michael didn’t stop moving as he ran past armoured soldiers standing around watching fire reach for them.

Michael never stopped until he slammed into a dumpster four blocks away down a deserted street. As his head connected with the dirty concrete, he heard the bombs. They tore through the city and from his position on the ground he could see a plume of smoke accumulating in the sky.

A panting Michael pushed himself up and hurried away, crashing and bumping into various obstacles before finding balance and stability in his race. The feeling became intoxicating; the streets and cars and all the people zoomed past him and he was almost flying. He closed his eyes and let out the most genuine laugh for fourteen years. The moment he opened his eyes again, his legs scrambled to a stop.

He wasn’t fast enough to stop himself from slamming into a man walking down a road. They went tumbling down and Michael rolled to a stop a few meters away. The man quickly regained himself and was at Michael side in a heartbeat.

“Hey, kid are you alright?” Where the fuck did you come from?”

Michael jumped up, and ran back the way he came at a normal pace. He barely got a glance at the man but the one thing he remembered was the handlebar mustache the man had.

Michael took up shack in a small back shed of an urban home, praying the owners weren’t home and wouldn’t find him. As the sun set, he curled in a corner while he tried desperately to find an answer to what happened that day. All he could figure out was he should be dead.

He attempted to push out any thought, but found the silence more troubling. It was shortly broken, though, by a pair of footsteps leading up to the shed. Michael inhaled sharply as he waited.

The door to the shed was roughly pulled open, almost coming off the worn down hinges. Michael stood his ground, despite the realization he was cornered. A figure entered the shed, the moonlight shone over their shoulder and showed pieces of their face.

“Don’t worry,” the figure said. “I didn’t follow you this whole time to hurt you or anything like that.”

Michael took a step closer and got a better look at the figure.

“I can help you, kid. Come with me and I can explain everything.” Michael could see a mustache bobbing up and down as the man spoke. “My name’s Geoff, and seriously, come with me and you’ll be fine.”