Search the Community

Based on the Vignette 'Happy Birthday'. Powerhouse's Assumed Birthday is December 25th (For more information, regard the note at the end of; This post Which explains why Powerhouse's Birthday is assigned at December 25th. While I could use his actual birthday, Powerhouse wouldn't realize to celebrate it, and it's just another day for him) ___________________________________________________________________________________________________ His bag held in his hand, Tim Tricoas - also known as Powerhouse with a wig - rushed down the sidewalk towards his work, having to side-step people walking around together and the requisite pane of glass people were moving as he did so. The reason he was running was because, for some reason, the buses weren’t working today, and only his self-control prevented Tim from using his speed or jumping power to reach the building faster, he was only almost late, after all. Almost crashing into the door, Tim attempted to open it, only to find it locked, and hit the speaker, only to get no response. ‘Sherry must be away from her desk.’ Tim fumbled in his coat for his keys, reaching through his pockets at the snow built up on the shoulders of his jacket; he realized he didn’t have them. Head-butting the door just enough to avoid breaking it, Tim sighed. “Tim? What are you doing?†a voice asked from behind him, causing time to turn around, shaking out snow from his head. Behind him was a guy wearing a thick coat, and Tim’s supervisor. Tim waved. “Hello Sir. I’m trying to get into work and I forgot my keys, can you let me in?†The man offered a strange stare at him, making Tim feel slightly uncomfortable. After staring at him for almost a full minute, the man finally spoke up again. “Tim. It’s Christmas. Go home.†He finally said, before turning around and walking back to people who must have been his family, and walking off, leaving Tim standing in front of the locked doors staring after him. “But...what’s Christmas?†He asked to the man’s retreating back in a whisper, heading back to his family, and though the man did not turn, and, after a few minutes, left with his family, smiling and laughing about the day they were having. Having no work to go to, and no one to visit- even a visit from Metatron or Cherubim would be great, even if that would end with him beaten, bloody, and dragged back to Yellow Forest- Tim, still not understanding why all these people were hanging out together, decided the best thing he could do was to turn back to his normal identity and stop crime, so the dark haired Tim, wearing his full overcoat, decided to go off to fight crime, having nothing else to do today meaning that it was either that, or sleep, and he wasn’t tired. So, Tim ducked off into an ally, hid behind a dumpster, and quickly took off his costume, becoming Powerhouse once more, and then leapt up to a nearby building to look over the city, watching for crime so that he might stop it. Standing on a building, Powerhouse was like a dark avenger of the night, if the Dark avenger wore no shirt, had no cape, wore brightly colored spandex pants, and had no crime to fight. Indeed, for all of Powerhouse’s attempts to be a Hero today, the only people out seemed to be a handful of drunks, and even he realized there probably wasn’t a reason to go after them, maybe they’d just shuffle home and not hurt anyone, so he was left sitting on a building, waiting for something, anything, to go wrong. Then again, when something DID go wrong, he always seemed to get there too late, either some other Hero was already wrapping things up- and Powerhouse stayed away from them, as he would have hated to seem like he was trying to steal their spot-light- or they were false alarms, and nothing bad was going on. So after about four hours of trying to be a hero, and failing, Powerhouse gathered up his things, and went back to his apartment, somewhat dejected, but realizing there was no reason to be a Superhero today, for some reason, probably related to this ‘Christmas’ thing. Dropping his bag next to the door of his apartment, Powerhouse removed the wig that hid him from the world and dropped onto his desk. It was a sparse apartment, a desk, a bed, and one of those T.V. things, and a single clock on his desk. He sat at the desk quietly for a time, not working on anything, instead looking outside through his window. He spared a look at the clock, however, after a bit. “Huh…11:59.†He muttered, picking up the item while the red lights stared back at him. It changed. “I think that means I’m a year older now.†Powerhouse muttered, something like his age was meaningless to him. It did not mean he was older, or wiser, simply that he put a different number in his ‘age’ category. Putting the clock down on the desk and standing up. “Happy birthday…†He added, to himself, as he fell into his bed. His first birthday free from Yellow Forest, and, for some reason, it felt worse than it had there. That should have been impossible, but as the Hero curled into a ball on his cramped bed, he did not dream of happiness. He dreamt of clocks, for a time, then awakened once more, at 2AM, unable to effectively sleep anymore. Left with that, and no ability to sleep, he sat on his bed in his cramped apartment, and thought about what it meant to be a Year older. Not a lot was his eventual response, being a year older meant almost nothing to him. He had spent about half a year free now, and all he could count for his age was ‘time in the Forest’ versus ‘Time free’, and all he hoped was that, somehow, he’d manage to end up with more ‘Time Free’ then ‘Time in the Forest’ whenever he died. Powerhouse thought about these for several hours, attempting to judge what his life was worth, and came up with almost nothing. “I…don’t really have a life do I?†He thought, looking out of his single window. “I guess I stop bad guys, but I don’t have anything else, do I?†He stared at the falling Snow. “But that’s okay, isn’t it? There always has to be a person who doesn’t have time for masks, doesn’t have time to live a normal life. I suppose I can just be that person.†He said, grinning at his own hands, though he felt hollow inside. He went out and patrolled again, from 10AM till 5PM, but there wasn’t a single crime in sight and at 5, he just went back to his apartment again.