Heroes: San Andreas

[radicell]

Not only is this my first piece of writing on the GTAF Writers Community, it is also my first time to write something that's not part of school, tutors, projects, or any other academic-related things. So, if there are parts that sound slightly wrong or you don't exactly like it, please don't flame. Instead, give criticism that is likely to help me improve on my writing skills. And if you think that I really don't have a chance in this kind of thing, please tell me, as I don't want to waste my time writing something nobody will like.

 

As for the story itself, I've combined two large interests that I have: GTA: San Andreas and Heroes, a NBC TV Show with people that have special powers. In the story, I've used selective characters from the GTA:SA cast, and also created a few of my own. I'll start by posting the prologue.

 

Prologue

Waters East of Easter Basin

Night was dark and all was still. Not a single soul was anywhere in sight. This area of San Andreas remained calm and peaceful, the waves rolling quietly against the docks, like they had done for as long as anyone could remember.

 

Suddenly, a small but very bright orange light shone in the sky above the waters. The light gradually became brighter and brighter as the source plunged downwards towards Earth. Within seconds it was very close and blinded everyone in sight. Then its edge dipped into the water, creating a huge splash, and immediately its brilliant light disappeared. The splash caused large waves to crash onto the shores of Easter Basin, Red County, and Tierra Robada.

 

The next day, there were few reports about this strange event. The little amount of bystanders were too shocked to explain anything. Although traces of seawater were found on nearby shores, as well as claims by Marines at the Easter Basin Naval Base of seeing a bright orange UFO, people were too busy rambling over rumors like Leatherface to worry about it.

 

Unbeknownst to the citizens of San Andreas, however, the sunken bright object would in fact change their lives – forever.

 

[DreamsLieHere]

Woah, nice prologue. Can't wait for the first chapter.

[Chickstick]

people were too busy rambling over rumors like Leatherface to worry about it.

 

 

Ha ha.

 

A good start to what looks to be an interesting story. Be sure to update!

 

As for flaming, nobody I can think of in Writer's Discussion does that, so no need to worry about it. If somebody doesn't like this, they'll probably say why and tell you how you can improve.

[radicell]

Well, thanks for the nice feedbacks, people. First chapter is up.

 

Chapter I – Fifteen Years Later

Grove Street, Ganton, Los Santos

It had been fifteen years since Carl Johnson was last active. After getting rid of all his enemy gangs, Carl had become a near-divine figure in Grove Street – everyone saw him as their ultimate leader.

 

Over the years, Carl had aged, and now, a newer generation of OGs has become the Families’ main troops – fending off wannabe gangsters occasionally, roaming the streets and clearing them of drug dealers, etc. Without rivaling gangs, things were now much more peaceful in Los Santos.

 

This morning, Carl was having breakfast in his house, reading a newspaper. Taking a drink of coffee, he came across a strange article on page 6. It was a small article, the kind with two or three paragraphs. It described a bright orange object plunging into San Andreas waters from the sky. As Carl began to read, he reached for his sandwich.

 

But when his hand was in mid-air, he felt something touch it. He looked up, and there was his sandwich, nestled in his hands. Carl was pretty sure the sandwich was lying flat on its back on the plate. How could it have popped into his hand?

 

Dismissing the event as nothing, Carl brought the sandwich to his mouth for devouring. However, a screech of tires outside got his attention. He slowly put his sandwich down as he heard more screeches of tires, car doors opening, and men shuffling out.

 

Carl walked out of the kitchen and towards the window. Walking towards his door was a man he hadn’t seen in 15 years. He was now very old, and looked like one of the old unnamed people on the Los Santos streets.

 

Carl, however, knew perfectly well who this man was. Walking up the few steps that led to his front door, was Salvatore Leone, and he certainly wasn’t happy. Following him were 12 men in brown, each of them wielding a MP5.

 

[Abel.]

Sounds awesome so far.

[Coral_City]

Okay, so the plot so far does seem interesting enough. The writing and description are both decent works, I'd like to see where this is going

 

Only issues I had were the usage of "etc." and "MP5" -- albeit, using the actual names for things aren't necessarily wrong, I just find them awkward, no biggie there! Also, it's nice to see you sculpted the story to your liking, instead of rigidly sticking with the timeline of the actual games.

[The Unvirginiser]

Brilliant idea, cant wait for next chapter

[andym07home]

great story so far, keep it up

[Vercetti21]

Decent writing, but I feel extremely disconnected from the story. Maybe it's that I'm not a fan of fanfics, or that it just seems weird to me, mixing aliens and heroes with GTA:SA. I don't know, but I think the plot could use some work in my opinion. Story aside, the writing is very eye-catching for a new writer, especially in the prologue.

[radicell]

Well, there really isn't any "alien" touch to this story. I'm working on some sort of "conflict" for the story.

 

Chapter II – Carl’s First Time

Grove Street, Ganton, Los Santos

Salvatore Leone didn’t bother to knock. He gave the door a kick, and when that didn’t work, bodyslammed it, causing it to fall off its hinges. Then, he stepped into The Johnson House.

 

Looking around, he saw nothing special – a few pictures, a video game console. It was as if there was no one at home. Just at that very instant, however, Carl Johnson stepped out of the kitchen – pissed as hell, and let fly a volley of AK47 bullets at Salvatore.

 

The Leone head dove for cover, and the man in brown behind him took the full damage of the bullets. However, two more men in brown fanned out from behind their dead comrade, followed by another two, and another, and another, until Carl found himself surrounded by 11 men in brown – plus an enraged Salvatore Leone.

 

Thus, Salvatore began the long speech that is classic to perform before killing someone. “Last time we talked, Carl, I said that I would kill you and all your family and friends. Well, you might’ve thought I’d forget, after such a long time, but no, Carl, I remember, I remember very clearly.” He touched a picture of the Johnson Family that was hanging on the wall. “Very, very clearly.”

 

Then, without another word, he turned to his men and did a “chopping head” motion. Carl knew, for sure, that this was the signal to kill him. Letting his weapon drop to the floor, he watched as the 11 men in brown suits raised their weapons – and fired.

 

Still desperately hoping for a miracle, Carl heard the sound of the bullets popping out of the barrels. He expected to feel searing pains and look down to see his body getting torn apart, and be dead a second later. That, however, never happened.

 

For as Carl raised his head, he saw the bullets suspended in mid-air, having lost all of their projectile, just sitting there, hovering in the air, the faces of the attackers behind each one of them.

 

Then, with an uncontrollable stroke of anger from deep within him, Carl willed the bullets to fly backwards – back towards the men in brown suits. Only the men were caught completely off guard. They had lowered their weapons and a second later, the bullets that they fired from their very own guns zoomed back towards themselves – hitting them square in the chest and killing them all.

 

Seeing this strange event, Salvatore Leone’s face widened in horror. After standing like that for three full seconds, he ran out of the house as fast as he possibly could – not even bothering to take the cars, all the while yelling, “I’m coming back for you, Carl!”

 

But Carl knew the truth. Salvatore was terrified. In fact, he himself was confused and terrified as to what just happened. He had just stopped eleven bullets aimed at him at point blank range and propelled them back towards their assailants.

 

Although Carl was not the least bit superstitious, he knew deep inside that he had just performed the act of telekinesis.

 

[radicell]

No comments, people?

 

Chapter III – Remains

Grove Street, Ganton, Los Santos

After loading the dead bodies in one of the Mafia Cars and driving it out into the ocean through the flood control ditches, Carl did the only thing he could think of – go see Sweet.

 

Sweet was now in his late 40’s. Since the downfall of rival gangs and the absence of gang trouble, Sweet had become bright and cheery. However, when Carl came to him today, his face looked grim – very grim.

 

“Carl, something’s .. happened to me. Something .. strange.”

“What is it, bro?”

“Well, this morning, I was cooking breakfast.. I accidentally cut myself with a knife. Blood was gushing, but a second later, the wound just.. healed itself. When I looked, the wound… was gone.”

Carl just stood there, staring half into his brother, half into space. “Yo, Carl, are you OK?” asked Sweet worriedly. “Listen,” said Carl shakily, “something’s happened to me too. Something’s happened to both of us. We’ve both been .. changed.”

 

Sweet stared blankly, shocked. After a while, he whispered, “What happened to you, Carl?” Glancing slightly at his house, Carl replied, “I’m a telekinetic, watch”. And he proceeded to lift Sweet’s coffee mug out of his hands, swing it around in the air, flip it, turn it, and set it back into Sweet’s hands, now shaking uncontrollably.

 

Over the next half hour, Carl told Sweet about this morning’s events, about Salvatore Leone and his men in brown, about killing his attackers with their own bullets, about dumping the bodies…

 

They both agreed not to talk about it anymore, and they both hoped it wouldn’t come back to haunt them. Just as Carl was about to leave, however, Sweet grimly said, “There’s more bad news, Carl.”

 

“When you get rid of something, Carl, it often leaves remains. This is true for humans, animals, and, in our case – gangs.” Puzzled, Carl replied, “Gangs? You mean, like the Ballas?”

 

“Yes, Carl. Quite unfortunately, we have discovered that while you destroyed the entire Ballas gang back in 1992, a few survived.. and my sources tell me that they are coming back with a vengeance.”

 

“It was bound to happen, Carl. You can’t ever expect to wipe out entire gangs. Now some of our homies have been travelling. They seem to be quite sure that since 1992, the New Ballas’ hangout place is Fort Carson, a town in the desert.”

 

“You want me to go check it out.”

 

“Yes,” Sweet said, “and remember, Carl, these people are no longer the Balla motherf*ckers from 1992. It’s now the 21st century. These people are good. They have better equipment and technology than before.. way better.”

 

Then Carl said, “Don’t worry, Sweet. I’ll get there and end the Ballas for good.” To which Sweet replied, “Carl. It’s no longer the Ballas. It’s the New Ballas.”

 

[mostwanted468]

cool so far its more interesting than any average gang story its Something else

[andym07home]

great story, those last two chapters were really good (and the first ones of course)

[radicell]

Thanks for the feedback.

 

Chapter IV – The New Ballas

Fort Carson, Bone County

Baron Baxter walked into The Motel Row. The place used to be a classic Wild West style bar, but in late 1992, that all changed. ‘

 

A bunch of Los Santos Ballas had fled to Fort Carson, as their turf had been taken over by the Grove Street Families. This was news to the locals, and they weren’t quite happy about the ideas of gangs and gang violence taking place in their town. It did take .. quite a bit of persuasion from the Ballas before the locals let them stay.

 

Soon, the Ballas had recruited all of their homies in Los Santos, as well as some desert wannabes from the nearby towns. Allied organizations, such as the Russian Mafia, quickly provided refuge and cash. But the greatest boost to the weakened Ballas gang came six years ago, in 2001.

 

News had come in that the Vagos, the Ballas’ friend back in Los Santos, had also retreated out of the city. They had joined up with the San Fierro Rifa, their friends in San Fierro, and were in need of equipment and cash.

 

Baron Baxter, then a young Balla, had always been smarter and wiser than his other gangster friends. Seeing a great opportunity for his gang, he advised his homies, and ultimately, his leader, that teaming up with the Vagos was the way to go.

 

“You see, homies, they’re in need, and so are we. When we team up with each other, we will become much stronger. Then we can finally get our revenge on those motherf*ckin’ Grove Street punk-ass bitches,” Baron had said.

 

And so, in the summer of 2001, the Vagos (now inclusive of the San Fierro Rifa) came to Fort Carson in four buses, and a meeting took place, a meeting that ended with the birth of the New Ballas.

 

Purple and yellow became the new gang colors, and The Motel Row was chosen as the headquarters, since that was where the meeting took place. Now, if one enters the bar, he will no longer see a swinging door and a bartender in cowboy clothes. Instead, he’d see purple and yellow banners everywhere, and gang members talking, drinking, and smoking.

 

Today, when Baron Baxter entered the bar, he was greeted by his friend Sami. “Yo, homie, what’s up?”

 

“Sami, my man! Let’s grab some beers.”

 

They moved towards the bar, which was rather small and had only four barstools. Two of them were occupied – by the same person: Bert, the local barber, a fat man who looked ugly enough in real life – and now was drunk, dazed, and drooling all over the bar.

 

All it took was a simple “Move, busta!” from Baron and Bert was all over him. Being the short-tempered barber that he was, and now drunk, he easily landed a few punches on the caught-off-guard Baron.

 

Recoiling from the punches, Baron moved his hand to his nose .. and felt blood. He could feel the anger inside him, but it was not a type of anger he had experienced before. This time, he could actually sense it boiling inside him, sense the fuming smoke rising to his chest, his face, his eyes, sense a burning sensation as if he was shooting a red-hot beam of laser from his eyes..

 

The glass that Bert was holding exploded. It just disintegrated into many shards, which then suddenly flew in outward directions. Most of the shards hit his hand, which immediately turned into an explosion of red. One rather large shard, however, flew towards Bert and got lodged square in his Adam’s apple – where blood sprayed and Bert collapsed as two of his major arteries were punctured. Within seconds, he was dead.

 

Five seconds passed. Then a middle-aged woman started screaming. And after that, everybody was screaming and running for the door. Like a dam holding against an uncontrollable torrent of water, the door collapsed, along with the section of the wall close to it. Sunlight flood through the deserted bar, where chairs and tables laid in ruckus.

 

Sami, however, stayed, albeit not knowing what to say. After a while, he managed to mutter “Damn, man, you’re telekine-“

 

Before he could finish the sentence, a figure appeared at the ruined doorway. He raised a hand at Sami and he went flying into a pile of chairs and barstools. It was like he got hit by an invisible shockwave.

 

When Baron saw the figure’s face, he smiled. “Carl Johnson, veteran of Grove Street Families. I know all about you, but I didn't know that you were telekinetic,” he said, and raised a hand at Carl, “just like me.”

 

[Gabriel Constantin]

I just skimmed through what you have hear so far, and I like what I saw. You have a very interesting concept going on here, and it's written quite well. My only criticism is the fact that most of the information you're leaking out to the audience seems very forced and lacks description or purpose.

 

For example, in Chapter III, when CJ visits Sweet you wrote:

 

 

Sweet was now in his late 40’s. Since the downfall of rival gangs and the absence of gang trouble, Sweet had become bright and cheery. However, when Carl came to him today, his face looked grim – very grim.

 

There is nothing wrong with this paragraph necessarily. But I just think it could be alot better if you added more descriptive text, and informed the viewer about these events through your descriptive text. Remember, the reader doesn't want to be told what to think, they want to be allowed to think for themselves.

 

Tell us how Sweet has changed, what mannerisms set-him aside as "very grim". Describe to us how he looks, how he's acting, maybe even how he's feeling. It helps us imagine Sweet in our minds and creates a stronger mental link between story and reader.

 

Also, later on in the same chapter when Sweet & CJ are talking, you may want to explain who's talking first and second. You open the paragraph with a line of speech, and we have no idea who said it. Again, description is important, tell us who's saying it and how they say it. When you write:

 

 

“Carl, something’s .. happened to me. Something .. strange.”

 

Try to imagine how Sweet would say that line, if he were an actor in a movie. Once you've figured that out; tell us. Because in our heads we may just end up seeing Sweet sitting there saying that line in a monotone voice with no expression whatsoever. The reader can't figure everything out for themselves, you need to guide them in the right direction.

 

I know it's quite hard finding words to replace "said" all the time. But it can be done, and it adds a whole new depth of skill to your dialogue. You don't even have to explain how they're saying, just what they're doing while saying it. For example:

 

“Carl, something’s .. happened to me. Something .. strange,” Sweet stuttered as he looked up at his brother through a worried brow.

 

See how the simple addition of an additional claus on the end of the sentence lets us imagine Sweet alot better. We can tell from that sentence now that not only is Sweet stuttering, and not pausing, that he is worried, and even that he is looking up at Carl.

 

Another example:

 

“Well, this morning, I was cooking breakfast.. I accidentally cut myself with a knife. Blood was gushing, but a second later, the wound just.. healed itself. When I looked, the wound… was gone,” he said gesturing towards his unscathed hand.

 

Even something simple like that helps to break-up the speech and help us imagine the story better. It doesn't need to be complicated, and it doesn't need to be used after every line of speech, but it helps to use it occasionally, and is a powerful device.

 

Hope that helped. Great story! Can't wait to read some more.