To call it a lake would have been generous. It was more of a pond. Short, black, loose hair with white streaks, a simple but effective black mask around her eyes that contrasted with her unnaturally pale skin; this was the place where those effects took place. There were white people, there were pale people, and then there was Backup. We're talking sheet white, here. Like a ghost. But her cheeks were full and her build was solid, so there was no typical gauntness to accompany it.
Her Stop Watch, as in her customized hero smart witch, lit up.
"Attention, heroes. I need a group of you to assist me at the Johnstone Convention Center. If you are available, please come and meet behind the stage. You will be rewarded for your time." Backup took the time to listen to the whole thing, but, she was way too far away to get over there. She was sure tons of other people would get it, anyway, considering how many were at the parade.
Maybe the HERO day parade had made her sentimental. TJ didn't dwell on the past very often. Or maybe, as much as she didn't actually care, it would have been farcical to not even LOOK at the place where she died first. Like, come on, that's a pretty strong memory. But it wasn't what she was here for. She was miles away from the parade because she'd literally be caught dead before she was caught looking at a fucking balloon of Hugo Powers. Seriously. He was just a dude. They just have a balloon of some guy. HERO worship was creepy.
But when a pre-teen boy runs up to you and begs for a selfie, as one did now, well, you're going to lean in and say
"Always get back up!" and stick out your tongue. Because it wasn't that bad. And you liked the uneasy smile on the mothers face- that of all the heroes on the roster, her son chose Backup as his favorite.
When a fully grown man sees that and asks for the same thing, you tell him to
"Fuck off, loser." because it wasn't that great, either. If he's
really a Backup fan, he'll like that even more than the selfie.
Since she wasn't at the parade, and it wasn't night time so all of her really fun activities were off limits, the eternal question plagued TJ's mind. What to do now? While she was out and about in costume and didn't want to be bugged, she usually skipped the sidewalks. Moving into a nearby alleyway, TJ took a running start at a brick wall, ran a few steps up it and then pushed off to cling onto a fire escape. Rattling up the stairs, she stood on the railing and took one more leap up to the roof. Now the whole city had opened up to her. Skyscrapers and glittering ocean waves, the islands, even that hellhole Atlantica. Backup hated Atlantica. If she was ever going to become a supervillain, it would be to blow up Atlantica and sink it to the bottom of the ocean like it's namesake suggested.
TJ took a running start and leaped across a few rooftops, watching the distant concrete pass under her legs as she did. The sound carried well up here. She had good line of sight. She skid to a stop, planting her boot on the corner of a rooftop. This was what going on patrol was all about. It was the beating heart of HERO work, if boring at times. Backup ran around all of Castleburg, across all islands, though for convenience she usually avoided crossing the bridges mid-shift. And she avoided Passenger Island, as well. That place was boring as fuck.
TJ could spend all day and all night on the rooftops if she wanted too, due to her powers. All day, and all night, every day and every night. If she was up to it, that was what she did. The longest streak was a week. There was a particularly tall apartment building. TJ leapt over to it and used the tops and bottoms of the window sills to scale up the side. With no fear and more experience than anyone in the world at urban freeclimbing, TJ made short work of it. She climbed around the side of the building and hopped over onto someone's balcony. Then another, and then another. A lot of people weren't home. She pressed her face against the glass window. Some type of business woman in her mid forties was watching TV on the inside. Backup knocked on the window and she yelped. It didn't take her long to realize who she was looking at- even if she didn't know the specifics, it was obviously some superpowered miscreant.
"What is wrong with you?" She asked, approaching the door.
"Shit, lady, I'm just saying hi." Backup responded, and then leapt to the next balcony over. There was a bit of commotion, and soon she had a trail of confused people opening up their balcony doors to see who just moved across. She moved to the very last one and sat on the edge.
"We all good here?" She asked, her voice carrying to the row of people. The answer was probably yes.
"Well, actually," An elderly woman said from two balconies down. "There's been this troublemaker going up and down the block the last few days. We've not been sure what to do about him. Maybe you could speak to him, young lady? He kept me up all night last night."
Backup frowned.
"Fuckin' what? Who is this guy?" "Oh," the woman responded. "I think he calls himself..."
"...THE ONE MAN BAND!" "Are you fuckin' for real, dude?" Backup asked with a laugh. In front of her was a man in a garish yellow and pink bodysuit. A large drum was strapped to his back, complete with symbol. He had a mount around his shoulders that contained a harmonica and a trumpet. At his waist was a guitar and in his hands was an accordion. Compared to her practical and colorless black and white wear, they were quite the contrasting duo. Over his eyes was a visor that also looked like a harmonica.
"Oh, I'm very real," He said. "Realer than you,
hero." He began to stomp and march in a circle, playing the accordion and the harmonica.
"Dude. You fuckin' suck." Backup criticized bluntly.
"Like I'm not even joking around. You're shit at that. It's total dogwater. Actual fucking audio diarrhea. Like it's one thing if you're good at it but you're not. Were you playing all night last night?" "Shut up! Nobody can silence the One Man Band! Everyone in this apartment block will bow down to me. Then we will join forces and spread our music across the city!" He proclaimed.
"Then you wouldn't be that much of one man band anymore, would you, dumbass?" "...SILENCE!" He began to stomp and march around even more, playing louder.
"Alright, that's it, c'mere, shithead." Backup said, walking over and reaching her hand out. The One Man Band turned to her and switched to his trumpet. Blowing into the brass instrument, Backup was deafened by the blast and found herself rolling and tumbling over herself on the ground. Everyone watching the encounter, including the old lady, disappeared back into their rooms in alarm.
"The fuck?!" Backup asked, pushing herself up to all fours.
"Too LOUD for you, Backup? You should wear ear protection when attending a performance!" He blew into the trumpet again.
"Oof!" Backup squeezed her eyes shut and fell flat on her back. This guy was kicking her ass! There wasn't much room to dodge in the apartment complex hallway. There was a T junction not far from her, but One Man Band was blasting her way too often for her to get to it.
"Comin' through!" She yelled, and shoulder charged into a nearby door. She burst into someone's apartment, blowing right through the lock. Her shoulder would be feeling that one in the morning- NOT. She saw the ripples and the dust as the villain's blast struck the place she had just been. Fortunately, it seemed like nobody was home in this one.
Infact, that gave her an idea.
One Man Band entered the apartment. "Where'd you go, hero? Afraid to face the music?" He looked across the room and saw that the balcony door was open.
"I'll give you a fuckin' beat," Backup murmured from behind. An ambush! She had gone out one balcony and entered through another! She kicked out the back of his leg and forced him face down to the floor. Before he could blow on his trumpet again she reached forward and wrenched it off his harness, tossing it aside.
"Unhand me!" He said, releasing his accordion, clenching his fists, and raising his hands on the floor. In a split second she realized the drum on his back was attached to his hands via a series of wires. She did not want to find out what happened if the sticks beat that drum.
"Shit!" She snatched the sticks before they could hit. Ripping them off, she produced a knife and cut a hole in the canvas of the drum.
"No!" He cried out in dismay. "Guh!" Backup punched him soundly in the back.
"Gotcha, bitch." In ten seconds flat she had his hands cuffed behind his back and his ankles cuffed together.
"One Man- One Man Bitch, is more like it." She stood up straight and twirled her knife around in her fingers.
"Heh." "Damn you, Backup! You haven't heard the last of me or my wonderful music!" He said, struggling on the floor in a pile of discarded instruments.
"There's a scary fuckin' idea." Backup said, rolling her shoulder. There was a strange noise, almost like a very faint echoey pop from the inside, and she felt the pain disappear. Guess it had been 24 seconds since she busted the door open. The pain in her internals from the soundwaves was also long gone. Just like that, she was good as new. No need for so much as a breather.
"I fuckin' love being me." She grinned to herself.
She dusted her hands as the police shoved the protesting One Man Band's head into the back of a cop car. Basically everyone that was home had come down to the lobby to get in on the post-villain defeat party. She shook hands with the elderly lady, and reluctantly agreed to a hug. Backup was a bit distracted, though. Her thoughts turned back to the fight. If One Man Band had gotten the drum beat off, what would have happened? She should have known that more than one of his instruments could have been dangerous. The fact that he almost got one over on her was frustrating. Next time, she'd have to be better. She should have cut the drum canvas with the knife first, and then went for the takedown. Any villain could be dangerous if she didn't know their gimmick.
"Backup. Ms. Backup!" Someone said, pointing a phone in her face. "How many times did you die to defeat the One Man Band?"
Backup blinked, snapping back into focus.
"What, huh? No times. No times at all." She said, seriously.
"That guy didn't get me. Don't add anything to that fucking website." "Are you sure?" Someone else asked. "I thought I heard you say oof."
"Well, okay, he blasted me, but I didn't fucking die." Backup insisted.
"You want me to break your glasses or something?" That got them to back off.
"Is One Man Band your new nemesis?"
"If he is, I'm killing myself. Listen, uh, everyone shut the hell up. I'm leaving. Places to be, and all that shit." She said, pushing through the crowd.
"Can I have your autograph before you go?"
"No, fuck off." Backup strode away from the apartment and found another fire escape, losing even the most diehard fan as she took back to the rooftops. That was fun. Castleburg was full to bursting with shit like that happening all the time. The secret advantage of her power was getting patrol long enough to run into so much of it, all on her own.
She thought this to herself, kicking her legs over the edge of the roof. Chances are, some more shit was going to go down before the sun set. TJ took some time to herself, enjoying the view. And the hot dog that she had bought from a street vendor. Good times.
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