Andrew Guy's Journal

The Flower of Ice
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Downtime

A Break

as Andrew finally returned home, all he wanted to do was lie down, grab a beer from his fridge and just... do nothing, all day. What he most certainly did not want to do, was process the insane experience he had just had, like, seriously, some blue guy shooting lightning at him? Lightning traps? How? Why? Why didn't they just fry the lot of them where they stood and be done with it? Really, the only explanation for how he, or any of th others, survived that situation was sheer dumb luck. It most certainly wouldn't happen again. Andrew was far too stressed to actually sleep, so he went on a jog. A bit of light exercise should help clear up his thoughts, right? Nope, he ran into that guy Tony from work, and he hated tony, always going on about how his Italian heritage made him a great chef even though his calsogne was just awful, the bread had tasted mildly of soap and the cheese didn't go with the tomato sauce at all, but the guy still acted like he was Gordon Ramsay or something. Sometimes Andrew wished he could just... go unnoticed. Tony walked past him. Jerk didn't even glance Andrews way, but somehing felt odd about the interaction. Almost like whatever Tony legitimately hadn't noticed him, the sort of thing that hadn't happened to him since his days as 'that guy in the far back seat, no not that one, the one on the left, no, not that far left, right there, see?' In High School. He really hoped this wouldn't become a trend.

Aurora order: Infiltrate and retrieve
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Downtime

Not Hungry

Andrew just sat on his couch, once he got home. He was never noticed at work, so no one would miss him if he didn't show up for a couple of days, and he really didn't have it in him to show up at that place after what happened. A man had died, a man he'd been talking to, working with, just a few minutes prior to it happening, and he hadn't done anything. He hadn't even had the guts to turn back to watch. Andrew felt pathetic. He just sat and moped, for hours, not investing his time in anything but his sulking,  falling into a funk that just wouldn't leave him alone. he didn't go outside, nor did he want to. After a while, forgotten and alone, his phone silent and empty with no one having realised his absence, Andrew realised something. He wasn't hungry. Or tired. Or thirsty. That was odd, he hadn't kept track of time, but he should have been sitting down for a few hours by this point, right? He checked his phone.

Sunday. Andrew hadn't moved for about three days, and he felt fine. That was odd. No, it wasn't odd, it was terrifying. Why wasn't he hungry? What had happened to him? Was this his reward for completing that job? The ability to languish, alone and forgotten, forever? A slight gurgle shook him out of this reverie of despair, a quick check of his phone revealing the date had passed to Monday. Andrew was... well, hungry was too strong, peckish? At least that was something. Hopefully he wouldn't end up too out of the norm by the end of this.

When You Wish Upon A Star
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Downtime

A Vanishing Trick

Andrew was getting used to having superpowers, sort of. The disappearing thing didn't actually make him invisible, just... harder to notice? He wasn't sure if that was an adequate explanation, but unless they were actively looking for him, most peoples attention would just slip right on by like he wasn't even their, which could be useful for... shoplifting? He didn't actually intend to commit any crimes, but being hard to notice seemed pretty contextually useful, not something he'd really be able to use for heroics, and 'doesn't need to eat, sleep, drink or breath as much' was proving to actually be a terrible power. Turns out, when you only need about one fifth the resources you usually did to stay alive, maintaining a steady rhythm in your life suddenly became a lot harder, seriously, he forgot to sleep for a couple days without noticing and, while he was sure his boss appreciated the extra effort enough to let his mysterious absences go unaddressed, he was starting to lose track of time, the days all just blurring together. Andrew was pretty sure he had a birthday in about three months, but he culdn't even be certain of what day it was. Finally, his new reward popped up. He first noticed it when he lost a pen he was certain he had been holding a minute ago. Little things disappeared all day, until he eventually looked down and suddenly realised he was holding them. His new power was a pocket dimension, or hammerspace, or magic satchel or whatever it was called, and he finally had somewhere less suspicious to carry his gun.

The Platinum Heist
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Downtime

Blink (and you'll miss it)

Andrew could now teleport. Sort of. Not really, in all honestly, it was more like, what was it called, ground shrinking? Whatever the name is, Andrew could just skip distance. It was honestly pretty cool, if only he could stop appearing directly in front of walls. Or just generally avoid missing half the time, which was not fun. His stealth mode, or whatever it was when he just sort of faded into the background, was now more powerful. He laughed out loud in a library and no one even tried to shush him, which was convenient, since the book he was reading at the time wasn't a comedy. Man he missed laughing, he thought it'd been crushed out of him long ago, but apparently he could still manage it. He still topped out at a minute of use time, which would be less of an issue if he didn't take a full hour to be able to use it again, but his powers having weird restrictions was getting to be par for the course at this point. Next was his favourite part of his new lifestyle, training! (sarcastic clap) Andrew honestly wanted to be doing anything else, but he had an actual automatic firearm, just sitting in whatever subspace things went to when he stored them, and he'd be damned if he didn't learn how to use it. Plus, the yoga classes he'd started were nice, and he was getting pretty flexible, like he had a knack for it all along.

Dog's playing poker
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Downtime

Master of Disguise

Andrew could now change his facial features. Neat. It wasn't a very useful power, all things considered, and all that really changed were what he generally looked like. He was still stuck in the same clothes, as a white man, no matter what he tried to change, and it took him a full minute to manage to get himself transformed for one hour, but honestly, his powers weren't all that great anyway, he'd take it. Now he could just... well, he didn't really have an idea of when it would come in handy, since it wasn't even precise enough for him to mimic specific people. He most certainly wasn't charismatic enough to preend to be whoever he tried to mimic, but that also meant he was running out of options for what to use his power for. Maybe to escape places or something? sure, if he couldn't get the right outfit he'd still stand out, but he was getting somewhat more used to this whole "killing" thing. Maybe he would be able to bring himself to take someone out for his disguise? Or, more hopefully, he'd be able to learn martial arts, and knock people out before stealing their clothes instead. Yep, that sounded like a far better plan in Andrew's head, so that was the on he would go with. Now he just had to learn martial arts... maybe Judo... and he'd need to get in shape... maybe add in a bit more jogging to his routine, see how it goes?