Cosmics: Negative Feedback

Convenience store? More like an inconvenience store, mused Paul as waited in line to be served. At least this one is. Why the hell can't there be one nearer to home?

After the evening's testing of his weird ability, Paul needed a cigarette and he'd run out of the little white cancer sticks earlier. But if he didn't get home soon, Paul knew that his wife, Alison, would be wondering where the hell he was.

Standing there in the short line, Paul stared at the huge shoulders of a well-built, leather-clad guy dressed in front of him as he considered how things were going. In his car he'd found that when he'd turned up the radio's volume to maximum and stuck his hands over the booming speakers, he could also absorb sound energy. As before, back at the apartment, a slight trickle of power worked its way up his arms and into his chest. Together with what he had discovered earlier, it looked like he could absorb any type of energy.

Paul glared at the large man in the leather jacket ahead of him. In reality it had only been a moment, but for Paul it felt like this guy was purposely taking hours. For some reason he was arguing with the anxious worker behind the counter, shoving his hand towards him, whilst trying not to attract too much attention. Paul craned his neck around the big man's arm and saw that the guy's clenched fist was glowing. He was a cosmic.

"Shit", Paul muttered. Leather-clad guy was trying to knock the place over. And the clerk was trying to stall.

"I tol' ya", Paul heard the man snarl at the clerk. "Hand over all dey money... hey, wha' you lookin' at? You wanna piece of Havoc's heat blast?"

The wide-shouldered man, all six foot and change of him, turned around and glared at Paul.

Paul, looking up, met the man's eyes under his domino mask. Shit. It's that Havoc guy from the Masters of Mayhem, he thought, his gut beginning to seethe and boil.

"Leave him alone, asshole", Paul muttered, backing away a little from the villain's blazing right fist which was now pointing his way.

"Wha's dat?" Havoc growled. "You talkin' to me?"

"Yeah", Paul replied more loudly this time, his anger increasing his confidence. "I said leave him alone, get out of my way and get the fuck out of here".

The cosmic villain looked down on Paul like he was dirt found on the sole of one of his big black boots, and thrust his fist forwards threateningly.

"Wha' you gonna do 'bout it, ass-wipe?", the big man jeered. "I'll tell ya. You gonna do nothin' 'cause yer gonna be dead".

Paul stood his ground as the big man sneered and released a blast of superheated flames in his direction. The scorching energy hit Paul, pushing him backwards a little, but - amazingly - didn't hurt Paul one bit.

Paul turned back to the villain, seething.

"That's where you're wrong idiot. I'm going to do this", he spat and, both hands thrust forwards, he leapt at the villain.

His outstretched hands grabbed the man's shoulders and pushed him back against the wall. Havoc, his initial surprise turning to anger, released a blast of red hot energy at his attacker. Or he tried to. Instead of the expected blast, Havoc felt the energy being siphoned out of his body.

"Wha' the fu...!?!" the villain began. But by then, even the sound of his own voice was being absorbed by Paul, who now gripped the masked man's arms at his side. Havoc found that even his own strength had deserted him. He couldn't move nor struggle out of Paul's vice-like hold.

The big man juddered for a second or two before his eyes rolled up and he dropped to the floor, powerless.

Paul lifted his hands and examined his fingers. Other than a very slight burn, he was unharmed. He glanced back at the thug, saw he was down for the count but still breathing, and then turned his attention to the clerk.

The man's muddy brown eyes were wide in disbelief and shock. But beyond the initial surprise, Paul saw something else. Fear. Fear of the cosmic in front of him and dread concerning what had been done to the masked man. Paul couldn't sustain the gaze for long and soon looked away.

Calmness soothed his nerves as he said to the clerk, "Call the cops and the paramedics. Perhaps even those Cosmic Knight guys".

"Wha... who are you?" the man behind the counter stammered.

Paul looked up at the man again, saw the fear still there in his eyes. Was this what the average guy in the street thought of cosmics? Did they fear the power available at their fingertips?

"I'm called Feedback", he stated. Then he added, "And I’m here to help".

With what he hoped was a friendly nod to the clerk, Paul walked quickly over to the store's exit and left before things got complicated.

Cosmics: Feedback

Paul held his steady, outstretched hand less than an inch above the lighter as the flame danced upon his palm. As expected, all he felt was a gentle tickling sensation in his hand and a vague warmness. There was no hint of pain even after he'd left the flame to burn against his skin for several minutes. The same had happened the other three times he'd tried it. Just like in the fire earlier.

"Shit", Paul muttered, shaking his head. What did it all mean?

Around ten minutes before, he'd stuck his fingers into an outlet socket and switched it on. But instead of being thrown across the room, or at least shocked a little bit, all he'd felt was a weird tingling down his spine and a little warmth in his fingers.

Just like that time a week ago. He been a bit drunk and, for a dare, had stuck his fingers into a light fitting - God knows why. His stupid, co-worker Carl had then turned the light switch on but all he'd felt was that tingly-spine feeling. It meant household electricity couldn't harm him either.

"Shit", Paul cursed again, gritting his teeth.

Thinking back, there was that time a month ago when they'd thought he'd broken his ankle trying to goddamn rollerskate. Another of Alison's stupid ideas to do something together. At the hospital they'd tried to x-ray his foot but every time it kept coming back blank like his leg was made of lead or something. And afterwards his foot had somehow felt better. He was probably absorbing the radiation even then.

"Shit"

All those times over the last couple of months when something unusual had happened to him, just like earlier in that tenement fire. There weren't *that* many incidents but it was enough to pull together a correlation. Finally, today's fire had been pretty damned convincing. They all involved energy of some sort and they all involved him feeling no pain but somehow negating the power somehow. So what the hell was he going to do about it?

"Shit, shit"

Paul briefly looked down and his hands and then started searching for a cigarette. So, he thought, he was one of those cosmics, an IT guy with freakish powers like a comic book character or one of those idiots on TV. Which left him just two questions. First, should he tell Alison?

Finally finding a smoke, Paul lit up and took a drag. Exhaling sweet, gray, musky mist in a thin plume, Paul shook his head. No, she'd just think he was making it up or joking or something. Him, a cosmic!? Hell, she'd probably not really listen to him anyway. What was he going to say? "Hi honey, I think I can absorb energy like one of those cosmic guys". Yeah, that sounded rational.

Taking another puff of the cigarette, Paul considered the second question - what was he going to do? What did someone like him do with an ability like his? It's not like he could make money from it or get laid with it (not that he would, because he was married but, well, y'know?). All he could do was absorb or negate stupid energy.

"Hey, Pauly! We're out of milk" his wife, Alison, called from out of the kitchen. Here in the bedroom, Paul could only just hear her.

"Yeah, and...?" Paul shouted back, a little irritated. He almost added "What d'you want me do about it?" but decided that probably wouldn’t have been a good idea.

"Well, it'd be nice if you could just pop out to the store and get some", Alison called back. "And maybe some bread as well?"

"Sure, sure!" Paul replied, but under his breath he added, "It's only, like, fifteen minutes before Cosmic Reality is on. Why the hell can't you do it yourself?"

Still, he took another drag on the cigarette and headed out of the bedroom, grabbing his jacket and wallet on the way. He was going to have to be quick if he wanted to get back in time. Having an argument with his wife wasn't going to help.

'Why the goddamn couldn't I have got superspeed or something?' he cursed inwardly as he rushed out of the door and to the local convenience store.