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howtohero · 7 years

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#040 List of Handy Excuses (B)

It’s time for the next installment of our very popular (for a loose definition of “very popular”) list of handy excuses for when you wanna use your job as an excuse to get out of stuff to go fight crime.

A C D E

Babysitter

[No, you have to stay with the children. You wanna be a real hero? Keep an eye on these kids so their parents can have a well-deserved date night.]

Baker

• Great heroes aren’t born… They’re bread(makers).

Baggage Claim Attendant

I found this superhero costume in an abandoned piece of luggage at my work, I figured I might as well try it on and try fighting some bad guys. I mean why not right?

Bailiff

So I’ve been thinking, that judge guy is always having me bring in the evidence for all those court cases, so wouldn’t it be smart if I just went and grabbed pieces of evidence directly from crime scenes? Of course it’s smart. Uch I knew you’d be like this. Gosh it’s called being proactive Karen.

I’m also always showing belligerent witnesses or other such people out of court so wouldn’t it be neat if I showed a belligerent superpowered eco-terrorist out of our city? Of course it’d be neat! Uch why are you always like this. It’s called expanding my market Karen.

Banjo Player

The banjo that Kermit the Frog played in the opening scene of the Muppet Movie is at the Smithsonian. I need to go see it right now.

There’s a Mumford and Sons concert.

Bank Teller

No! No way. Is that a supervillain! I swear to god I cannot deal with this right now. These a-holes come into my bank like eight times a week and stick a gun or -and I kid you not- a four-foot-long flower that squirts acid in my face and hold me hostage and I am just sick of it. I’m out of here. (And then the irony is that really you are going to go put on some spandex and fight that supervillain).

Banker

I have to run out to go, uh, foreclose a house. (The irony is that really you’re going to go put on spandex and stop a house from burning down yay!)

Ball Boy

I am going to throw this baseball at Cthulhu.

Ballerina

Hey check this out! (then do some sick ballerina twirls right out the door).

Barber

I got a haircut the other day and my barber (shout out to Louie!) told me he was going to Italy for two weeks because he’s nearly 80 and he doesn’t know how many times he’s going to get to go to Italy and I thought he had an excellent point. So barbers, no matter what age you are, just tell people this. And then actually go to Italy.

Barker

You can actually use your loud shouting abilities to direct non-powered (read: lame) citizens away from the superhero fight. That’s probably where you can do the most good.

Bartender

Sometimes a supervillain just needs to talk to someone about their problems while that someone wipes the same spot of the counter with an old rag over and over again.

Baseball Player

I have an away game so I might be away for fifteen weeks.

I have a home game so I might be gone for thirty hours.

Basketball Player

Ok so I was playing golf and I made this admittedly kind of lousy shot but then the ball just started rolling and it landed right into the hole, crazy right? Yeah, so I go to get the ball and all of a sudden I get sucked into this cartoon world and these cartoon characters want me to play basketball against some cartoon alien monsters. So if I disappear for a bit that’s probably where I am.

Whoa, do you see that giant robot? How sick would it be if I jumped over that in the next dunk contest? I’m gonna go down there and see if I can’t get my hands on that thing.

Bass Guitarist

Ha! More like super bass (guitarist)!

Bed and Breakfast Proprietors

Literally all you have to do is just wait til after breakfast and before bedtime. Then you can go out and do whatever you want. Lunchtime is your prime crime fighting time.

Beekeeper

I’m sorry I will not be able to make dinner tonight for I have been carried off by a swarm of malignant bees.

I have to go put on my beekeeper suit, it may take a while.

Bellhop

Oh my god you would not believe this guest that’s staying at the hotel. He keeps finding problems with each room we put him in and demanding that we give him a new room and you know who has to carry his 22 incredibly heavy bags to each new room? Me! So if I leave abruptly, that’s where I am.

Bibliographer

Wait a minute, not everything in this non-fiction book is properly sourced and catalogued! I must get to the library posthaste to conduct the research necessary to determine where all of these facts, figures, opinions and otherwise borrowed pieces of writing originates from!

Bigfoot Hunter

Bigfoot’s doing another book reading at Barnes and Noble. It was in all the papers. Honestly, dude’s taking all the fun out of trying to track him down.

Biologist

Fun fact: I am the mitochondria, which is to the say, the “powerhouse” of this city. Therefore I am the only person capable of defeating this supervillain and his… acrobatic… elf army? What?

I have to go… photosynthesize something.

Biographer

Fun supervillain fact: Many supervillains turn to a life of crime and villainy because they feel that they have not gotten the respect that they were due in their pre-supervillain jobs. So maybe if I go down there and offer to write an actual book about them they’ll stop throwing pig carcasses at pedestrians.

Birdwatcher

Oh my god! There’s a light footed clapper rail near that superhero fight! I must get closer and snap some pictures for my rare birds Facebook and Instagram pages. Yes, I know it may be risky. But some things are just worth dying for. The light footed clapper rail is one of them.

Blacksmith

Finally! I’ve been clang clang clanging away on this new super cool armor in my workshop for weeks. I’m gonna put it on and fight that dragon that’s sitting in the park and freaking everybody out.

Boatswain

Some of the important boating equipment which I am responsible for (y’know stuff like life preservers, marine themed shaped snacks, the crew, boat engines?? porthole drapes?) is dangerously close to that rampaging truck monster. I’d better get down there and perform my sworn sacred boatswain duties.

Body Builder

Hey did you hear that I work out now? Yeah just figured I’d let you know in case you’re looking for me while I’m working out. If you can’t find me it’s probably because I’m working out. Crossfit leg day do you even lift crossfit.

Bodyguard

Ok if you’re a bodyguard and you want to go to your side job as a superhero here’s what you’ve gotta do. Wait until your client goes to the bathroom. Then jam the door, look him in there. Then go fight the crime. Then get back and free your client who will have been kept safe by the bathroom until you return.

Bongo Player

I’m gonna go find a bridge to play the bongos under.

Bookkeeper

I’m going to go down and take bets on that superhero fight I’m giving twenty to one odds on that giant mutant bullfrog eating Ultiman.

Botanist

You don’t need to make any excuses, probably your only friends are plants and plants are known to be very supportive of the activities of costumed heroes and vigilantes.

Bowler

(Look down at your shoes) My heavens! These are not my shoes! I must go find the true owners! (A Cinderella story for the modern age.)

Bouncer

I have to get to my post! My bar has a very strict no supervillains allowed rule and if that evil cyborg gets even close to The Drunk Hut it is my solemn responsibility to make sure he doesn’t get inside.

I’m a pretty buff man. I prevent children from sneaking in to the bar. I think it’s time that I step it up a level and bounce that supervillain right out of town.

Bouncy House Operator

Just deflate the thing and go fight crime.

Boxer

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, that villain may be winnin, but he’s not yet met me.

Boy Band Member

Bye. Bye. Bye.

Boy Scout Troop Leader

Ok whoever doesn’t tell their parents that I left early to punch a man made out of fire gets their “Kept a Superhero’s Secret Identity Badge,” their “Didn’t Snitch on Troop Leader Barry Badge” and their “Didn’t Descend into a Lord of the Flies Type Child Murder Chaos Scenario When Left Alone” badge.

Breakdancer

I’m going to challenge that eleven ton troll man from Mars to a dance-off, loser gets banished from Earth, winner gets ice cream (and gets to stay on Earth!)

Breeder

Wait a minute, does that supervillain have a horse that is on fire and also a ghost? Could you imagine what would happen if I acquired that horse and mated it with one of my top racing horses. It would be incredible. I’d be foolish not to get down to that superhero battle right away.

Bubble Blower (such as the kind that perform delightful and mystifying bubble shows)

I am going to delight and mystify this villain right in the face.

The villain is trying to make off with the entire town’s supply of soapy water. I must stop him. Even if I am not a superhero. Which I of course am not. (But say it in a way that sounds less suspicious.)

Buccaneer

I’m what you might call very expensive corn (wait for everyone to groan at your terrible pun) I’ll just see myself out.

Builder

Somebody somewhere just asked “can we fix it!” and I need to go shout “yes we can!” in their face. I know that that sounds like the kind of thing a fixer should be doing but we’ve pretty much taken over the “can we fix it/yes we can” industry thanks to public television.

Bureau of UFO Tracking, Transporting and Studying Agent

I have to go flush out some aliens, I don’t want any of them slipping through the cracks.

Bus Boy

All right everybody we’re going to try something new tonight! Everyone will just bus their own tables this shift! Then you’ll gain a greater appreciation for the working class! (You only need to do this once because you’ll almost definitely be fired for this.)

Bus Driver

If I stopped driving my route every time aliens took over midtown I’d never be able to my job.

Butlers

No no no no, butlers aren’t superheroes. It’s their rich masters who are superheroes. I mean sure butlers are the clear brains behind the entire operation and without them the Billionaire with Issues™ genre of superhero wouldn’t exist but I can’t think of a single butler superhero (as opposed to the dozens of bubble blower and bibliographer superheroes there are out there).

Tune in next time when we tackle all of the “c” occupations. As always if you know of a job that isn’t represented here ((speaking of representation, I’m pretty sure there isn’t any difference between a barrister and a lawyer so you’ll have to wait like a year til we get to L.) By all means, contact us. Or just use a generic excuse like “I need to get down to that superhero fight to see if I can help people in any way that I can because I am a good person” or “I am going out to get orange juice.”

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lethe-distillery-blog · 5 years

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Revelations Part One

I grunted as I pulled my sword from the man's chest cavity. Depravity, it seemed, was not something that was strictly paranormal in nature. Humanity seemed to have its own evils, the blessing was, they simply didn't have the powers available to them to really be a threat. They only were dangerous when they bartered with demons for magiks, when they ran for office, or when they became thralls of some vampire. I fucking hated vampires.

I shuddered at the mere thought of being so devoted to the hope for power that I would essentially sell my soul for it. In exchange, I got strength, speed, bloodlust, and the ability to carry out tasks against my whim should the vampire desire it. And as much as I wanted to kill a vampire, it was dangerous. This was not the simple common logic of cut off the head and the rest dies. Oh no, the gods would have been far too kind if that had been the case when they brought down this calamity. No, kill the vampire and the thralls turned into vampires. They essentially were already, we just called them thralls because in general they were controlled by their masters enough that they weren't allowed to procreate. Thus our distinction between thrall and vampire, though there really wasn't much of a difference. The only real reason the older seemed more powerful was that they were older. I sighed, wiping my blade and watching the thrall crumble away into dust and an errant breeze whisked him away.

"It seems so unusual to me," I spun to face the voice around me, the hairs on the back of my neck rising as I fought to control my breathing, down girl, down." That evil is so deprived that evil strikes down evil." The figure turned to me, eyes glowing a deep mystical gold as though lit from some inner source. I knew what he was simply from the way he talked. Though the golden eyes, red cross at the breast, and the silver one around his throat were plenty enough to mark that I was in some trouble. I didn't bother trying to explain to the Templar that I couldn't control my parentage, didn't bother trying to explain to him that the thrall I had just dispatched had been attacking an orphanage. I didn't bother explaining any of that. He wouldn't listen. They never did.

Good saw evil. It was a tale as old as time, I couldn't help that my father was a demon, didn't know rank, species, hell, I didn't even know his name. Didn't really know my mother either; a lost soul that sought to pay for her addictions with her body. I didn't pity her, she was pitied enough for something that I doubted she would have picked for herself. In the rare times she was in a good mood after getting high came my good memories, going to press my face against the glass to look at toys that I would never be able to own, to play in the park and watch happy families wondering what it would feel like, and sometimes when I was really lucky, we'd go get ice cream from the McDonalds that was about a half mile away. At five, I was taking care of my mother; I knew how to deal with someone going through withdrawals, how to clean her up after a particularly vicious suitor had had his way with her. I had lost my virginity a couple years later, and after that it only took three more to finally have enough and leave. Though it took until I was fourteen to have my powers come in, because you know, puberty, the greatest bitch of all.

I slammed into the Templar, catching him off guard slamming him into the wall and stepping down hard on his instep with my combat boot before jumping back. It was a race; and well I knew it. I took off at a sprint even though I was already winded from my encounter with the thrall. I looked ahead, about fifty feet out of the alley. It wasn't worth the shifting to my, natural, form, and then back again. Though it was quick, and it would give me extra speed, charging out into public view with a tail and horns didn't exactly seem like my idea of fun. Though I had heard that the general population had gotten rid of the torches and pitchforks a couple centuries before I had been born, I really didn't want to test that theory, the internet itself was vicious, didn't want to see how that translated into the real world. I felt the arrow more that I heard it as it whispered by my face, my hair blowing out in the wind of its passing and I cursed. God damn fucking Templars and their god damn ability to summon whatever they god damn fucking needed! Lucky for me, my friend seemed to have a poor shot, small things in life, small things.

I darted out and did a once around before I kept running. At six foot one, I tended to stand out, most women were under five eight. Easier to keep running and hope to get some distance than to blend in the crowd. I caught sight of my hands, the fingernails long and dark and I forced myself to calm down, even as I was running for my life. My powers, thankfully, were emotionally based. Think of it like the Hulk but instead of turning big green and giant, I grew horns, a tail, hooves, and essentially turned into a half demon. Go figure.

I stopped outside a massive brick building, a rectangle really, with molded concrete edgings, the doorways were high and arched with small details that were worn away by time to nothing but ghosts of what was there originally. I only waited to catch my breath and make sure I had lost my pursuer before I entered the sacred building. I did not want to make Otis stressed out over my extracurricular activities. I walked up the steps, slowing my breathing with every step while doing a once over in the massive windows trimmed in wood doors. No horns, no tail, and my walk was good. Excellent. I took a half a heartbeat longer to try and straighten my hair. Damn running for your life, ruined a hairstyle worse than sex. I didn't exactly need either rumor floating around the tiny college. It was a small thing, privately run by Master Otis Eden and his wife, Tigg. none of my three classes ever exceeded over twenty people, I doubted that the building could have fit much more. There were four rooms, and over the course of the day, there were eight courses taught here. It was a quaint little setup, and to get in had taken a lot of hard work on my behalf, especially since I didn't I have the social standings pull that a lot of these other students did. Hell, I shared my Studies of Christian Theory with Daniel Howard, son of one Isaac Howard and if that name doesn't ring a bell in everyone's head they lived under a box. He was the head pastor for the Grace United Megachurch of Texas and likely a multi-billionaire but that led into my issue with the way Christianity was run, the tax exemption, the getting rich off the gullible, the-, enough, down girl.

I knocked on the heavy teak door after wondering a maze of hallways that over the last few months had become to be as familiar as home. That was saying quite a lot really. I cringed as I looked at my watch and waited. "Come in." The tone was as solemn as it ever was, the tone of sacred teachings deep within the depths of him. I entered, I didn't even have to pretend to be meek as I scurried to my chair and sat down. Even little playboy Daniel knew better than to cross Otis Eden, the man ruled with a serene sort of dominance. Don't let the dreamy expression fool you, the man was bright, and he took shit from no one, if you pushed, he would simply kick you out without the ability to come back. Multimillionaire or street girl, it didn't matter. I sat in the overstuffed armchair, listening intently as he continued, not a break to be had aside from my intrusion and I snuck some helpful starter information from the notes of Dorthea Calahea as she kept working. I swear, she copied down every word of the Ancient Practices of the Catholic Church lecture.

I was well aware of the irony of my being here, and thankfully all my classmates were either vanilla humans or other demonspawn, likely here for the same reason I was. A road of self-discovery. It was hard not knowing a parent, and unlike the human world that provided something as simple as getting your DNA tested and then doing a manhunt, though I had heard mixed results of the results of such a discovery. You'd be surprised at how many demonspawn are in the world, actually, you might not be. Demons are held in a bad light, at least in western cultures. I didn't religiously follow any of the groups that others banded together to create, a sort of protection and early watch for those that thought themselves better than us, or sought to use us. I listened to the steady voice, allowing it to work through me and take out the nightmare fuel of this morning, the what if I hadn't made it to where the Thrall was going to be snacking, what if I hadn't outrun the Templar, what if. It all faded as this man spoke in the quiet comfort of a man that truly enjoyed his work.

Class carried on for another fifty minutes, only the occasional cough or Otis taking a sip of water breaking the lecture. I was engrossed by the details. It was fascinating in a sort of horrifying way, the way that the Catholic Church operated. And soon enough, class was done and we were all getting up to go. I hated these moments, Bart and Maria taught in a non-traditional environment. Large couches, overstuffed chairs, pillows, a beautiful expansive fireplace that covered most of one wall, and antiques that would be at home in any muesum decorated each room. Tigg's were often a bit brighter, decorated in shades of blues and the other in an emerald green where her husbands were darker in tone but made up for it in stained glass. it held the old world charm of sitting rooms. Bookshelves covered most available wall space eliminating the need for a central library with the only real indications of the modern century were the several computers that seemed to awkwardly grace an antique dining room table in the far end of each room. Each table was intricately carved wood, nymphs, gods, scenes of mythology carved into the legs and the entire face, though I had only seen one in entirety once, were delicate art, deserving of their own praise that were beautifully inlaid with different wood species, mother of pearl, and semiprecious stones.

"Anastasia," I stopped at the door, turning to where Bart was seated behind the massive desk this room provided, it was a deep cherry, well worn but also beautifully cared for. "May I have a moment?" Well, I knew that I wouldn't be able to get away with it forever.

"Sir, I-." I looked up into a single raised eyebrow over an eye so pale a grey it appeared nearly white with rainbow kaleidoscope from refracting stained glass. I tried again. "I'm sorry Mister Otis, I am trying to get better, I really am. I-."

"Are you going to let me speak?" The question was mild, though he could have reached over and slapped me. I shut up. Twisting my hands together and looking up at him, he was a handsome middle-aged man, his dark hair looking to be greying at the temples, his features neatly covered by a trimmed beard. His lips were plump and full, his knuckles knobby from arthritis coming in, but still, he looked content, a man that knew his place in the universe, I wish he would share how he had figured it out with me. He shook his head, eye smiling in a way that lips cannot, wry amusement shining at me. "I was your age, once upon an eon or two ago." I flushed, though I was unsure why, out of everyone in the world, he always made me feel like a small child, not a woman in her mid-twenties. "I too struggled with mornings, even now, I don't like to wake up before ten, Tigg always starts the day." He pulled out a file and opened it to show my reports, grades, assignments. As I said, he was old school. "I can see you're doing well in your classes despite your tardiness, Maria has no complaints with you in Ancient Civilizations and you aren't late any more than the average in our class later." He closed the file. "But that's not what I wanted to talk about, I just enjoyed making you twitch."

Bastard. I really could have said it out loud, my body response practically yelled it at him and the way that he looked at me I knew he had heard it plenty loud and clear. "So," I ventured, still hesitant but slightly braver now, "why did you ask for a moment of my time." I watched where he was staring out the window to the side, watching a raven hop foot to foot with the sort of eager dance of one anticipating a meal. Must be roadkill and he was waiting for traffic to slow in order to fetch it. I knew that he had heard me, but the man was very often lost in his head. Tigg had complained about it more than once on the days it was really bad in class. I couldn't imagine trying to live with that, though he was kind and brilliant, I would probably throttle him over that flaw.

"Ah, yes." he turned back to me, and I felt that same annoying feeling of being a small girl before him, as though he knew everything, and I was just in the process of learning. "I heard from a little bird that you had someone looking for you. I sent him on his way, I wasn't sure if you knew him so I figured that you may want to warning. Tall, handsome," he looked down at his note and squinting at it. I always wondered how hard it would be to live with one eye, though he seemed to handle it well enough. "Golden eyes." Mr Eden looked up at me, eyes searching mine curiously.

My blood chilled at the thought, there was no way the Templar had seen me come in, I had searched thoroughly, I had made sure I wasn't followed. No, it had to be just a lucky guess. I forced myself to stay relaxed, to breathe evenly, though my hands were tightened around the arms of the chair so much that my knuckles started to ache. I smiled, politely. "No, sir, can't say I know him at all."

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