The City, Tuesday
Tuesday morning:
The bus pulled up to the corner, noticeably leaning to one side. When a large, blue-clad passenger with a large backpack stepped off, the bus bounced, its shocks readjusting to the loss of a concentrated 500 pound (including the backpack) weight. "Thanks, chum!" the passenger said.
Once the smell of diesel fuel faded, the passenger took a deep breath. "Oh, City! You smell like home and mother's in the kitchen baking Justice Pie! Well, no point wasting time here. I have a few visits to make! Come, Little Wooden Boy!"
With that, the former bus passenger known as The Tick rushed to the nearest fire escape and climbed it with all of the speed of a giant lemur who had been trained to climb fire escapes.
As he reached the roof, he shouted, "It's good to be back!"
***
Three things tended to happen every time The Tick returned to The City.
First, there was a spike in new supervillains attempting to challenge the returning champion. They had heard how good a superhero he was and that he had spent time working at a school. They felt this would give them a shot at picking off a big name while he was rusty. They always turned out to be wrong, of course.
Second, insurance rates went up. His preferred method of travel - jumping around on rooftops - caused a lot of property damage. An enterprising young agent once came up with what he called Tick Tax, a form of insurance that specifically covered Tick-related property damage. He was sued by Ferrero S.p.A.
Third, people got used to the noise of a four-hundred pound man jumping on their roof.
But when he had only been in town for twenty minutes, that was a surprising and pleasant sound to some.
That's why - just after The Tick leaped across the street to a building that was strangely familiar - somebody in the even more strangely familiar building he had just leaped from yelled out, "Tick? TICK!"
The Tick slid to a stop, ruining a roof garden in the process, and looked back. "Hi, Arthur! How are you?"
Arthur, leaning out the window, looked surprised. "Not bad. What are you doing back here?"
The Tick grinned. "It's a long story! You see, I wrote this play--"
"Look, shouting across the street is silly. I'll meet you up there!" Arthur yelled, starting to climb out the window.
"No need, chum!" Tick responded, getting a running start and leaping. Arthur dove back inside. The Tick hung from the window for a moment before pulling himself inside. "Hi, Carmelita!" he said to the moth-suited woman staring in amazement from the kitchen doorway.
***
Coffee and stories were shared. "So you're back here as a playwright?" Arthur asked.
"Yep!" The Tick answered.
Carmelita looked confused. "And you're not doing any superheroing atall?"
"Nope!" The Tick answered.
"Why not?" Arthur asked.
"The City has plenty of protectors, including the two of you. I'm here because Destiny brought me back! It showed me that not all the world's a stage, but the part where I'm needed sure is!"
"But The Terror's been on a rampage for months!" Carmelita shouted. "He's been going around attacking people in his spider walker thing for to pay people back for every slight anyone's ever paid him. We need you, Tick!"
"You'll get him eventually," Tick said.
"But--" Carmelita started before Arthur interrupted her with a hand on her shoulder. "He gets like this sometimes," Arthur explained in a whisper.
Louder and to Tick, Arthur said, "So, what's the play about?"
Tick grinned widely. "It's about a young man with bagpipes that used to be owned by a troll who needs the bagpipes to cure his true love who's sick, but the bagpipes are broken and he needs to get them fixed!"
A small smile crossed Arthur's face. "We've missed you, Tick."
"I've missed you too, Arthur! Group hug!" The Tick then hugged both moths so tightly that they were near asphyxiation. That's how happy he was to see them again.
He barely heard a noise over their wheezing, but it was an unmistakable sickly throat rumble. The Tick let go and looked around. "Is that Speak? Where are you, boy? Call out to me and I'll find you!"
"Tick..." Arthur said, trying to let air back into his lungs. "Look... behind... the couch."
The Tick, of course, lifted the couch with one hand. "There you are, boy! Do you mind if I take him back?"
"Definitely not. He's all yours," Carmelita said. Someone a tad more observant than Tick would have recognized the tone that suggested that she was only keeping the rodent because of Arthur anyway.
"Keen! Thanks!" Tick said. "I do have a meeting at the theater in a little bit, so I should get going. Thank's for welcoming me back, though!"
"Do you have someplace to stay?" Arthur asked.
"I have ideas of places to stay, Arthur! Don't worry about me and Speak!" Tick said, walking back to the window.
Carmelita looked confused again. "You could just--"
Arthur shook his head. This was the way The Tick did things. "Visit anytime. It's good to have you back."
"It's good to be back, Arthur!" Tick said, climbing out the window with a large rodent in one hand. "I'll see you later! Spoooooon!" And with that, he flung himself back across the street where he would climb one-handed up to the roof before making his way to Downtown The City.
***
Afternoon:
The Tick arrived at the theater just in time to see a sight he certainly didn't expect.
A giant, black, spider-type thing was in front of the building, boxing glove extended. From a PA system on the machine, an elderly, wheezing, EVIL voice could be heard. "I want a refund! I saw a vaudville show here back in 1946 and it was terrible! Pay up the fifty cents or I'll sock you in the eye!"
The Tick took off his backpack, laid it on the roof, and placed Speak on top of it. "Guard this with your life, boy! I have to talk to Evil!"
The Tick leaped off the roof to the sidewalk. Speak fell over into a laying position on the backpack.
"Excuse me? Terror? It is I, The Tick!" Tick said, walking up to the machine.
The spider-machine turned towards The Tick. "The who?"
"The Tick! Your most recent arch-nemesis? Blue costume? Antennae?"
"Oh, right, Tick. How are you, lad?" The Terror asked.
"Not bad," Tick said. "But I have a meeting here in five minutes and I think you might make me laaaaaaaaaaaaa!" That last bit was yelled as he flew through the air and into a building.
The boxing glove on The Terror's vehicle wound back up. "That'll show him. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. Twenty cents, you cheapskate!"
Moments later a thud could be heard on top of the walker. Shortly after that, the sound of three inches of steel being ripped apart could be heard. And then The Tick could be seen, dropping down right in front of The Terror. "I'm going to have to confiscate this mechanical terror, Terror! And then you're going to spend time in Detention!"
"Detention?" The Terror asked. "What, are you getting senile?"
"No, I'm getting educational!" Tick said threateningly.
A scuffle could be heard over the PA system and then...
"Say you're sorry."
"Ow! Hey, watch it, you whippersnapper! Hey! Fine, fine, fine, I know when I'm beat. I'm... LASERS!"
The sound of lasers could be heard.
"Hey! That's dirty pool! You're also going to have to write an essay about what you did wrong now!"
"Okay, okay, fine. I'm sorry for trying to get back the twenty cents you owe me, cheapskate! Wouldn't be necessary if he realized that vaudeville was dead at the time!"
"Now, let's go wait outside for the cops to take you to detention."
"Seriously, are you going senile?"
"Nope!"
***
After the police picked The Terror up, The Tick missed his meeting. Instead he stood on rooftop with Speak and his backpack. "Well, Speak, that was fun. I guess I'm not off the Mountain of Authority yet like I thought I was. The Mountain of Playwright was a slight detour. "
"Well, I guess that settles it. Destiny lead me back here just to stop The Terror. You know what that means, don't you, Speak? I guess that's what I'm supposed to be doing. Fighting evil. Again."
The Tick grinned and posed dramatically. "SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!" he yelled.
And all over The City, insurance rates rose.
Their big, blue champion was back.
[OOC: This has been an epilogue to The Tick's time in Fandom. Thanks for reading.
This journal will continue to be updated, though, because I can't completely leave the big guy behind. I have thoughts on Post-Fandom Tick Fic and what I would want to do with him from here on out, so I'll be using this journal for that.
If he ever returns as a guest character for some reason none of the stuff in here will be considered game canon. It's just for my use. :D]
The bus pulled up to the corner, noticeably leaning to one side. When a large, blue-clad passenger with a large backpack stepped off, the bus bounced, its shocks readjusting to the loss of a concentrated 500 pound (including the backpack) weight. "Thanks, chum!" the passenger said.
Once the smell of diesel fuel faded, the passenger took a deep breath. "Oh, City! You smell like home and mother's in the kitchen baking Justice Pie! Well, no point wasting time here. I have a few visits to make! Come, Little Wooden Boy!"
With that, the former bus passenger known as The Tick rushed to the nearest fire escape and climbed it with all of the speed of a giant lemur who had been trained to climb fire escapes.
As he reached the roof, he shouted, "It's good to be back!"
***
Three things tended to happen every time The Tick returned to The City.
First, there was a spike in new supervillains attempting to challenge the returning champion. They had heard how good a superhero he was and that he had spent time working at a school. They felt this would give them a shot at picking off a big name while he was rusty. They always turned out to be wrong, of course.
Second, insurance rates went up. His preferred method of travel - jumping around on rooftops - caused a lot of property damage. An enterprising young agent once came up with what he called Tick Tax, a form of insurance that specifically covered Tick-related property damage. He was sued by Ferrero S.p.A.
Third, people got used to the noise of a four-hundred pound man jumping on their roof.
But when he had only been in town for twenty minutes, that was a surprising and pleasant sound to some.
That's why - just after The Tick leaped across the street to a building that was strangely familiar - somebody in the even more strangely familiar building he had just leaped from yelled out, "Tick? TICK!"
The Tick slid to a stop, ruining a roof garden in the process, and looked back. "Hi, Arthur! How are you?"
Arthur, leaning out the window, looked surprised. "Not bad. What are you doing back here?"
The Tick grinned. "It's a long story! You see, I wrote this play--"
"Look, shouting across the street is silly. I'll meet you up there!" Arthur yelled, starting to climb out the window.
"No need, chum!" Tick responded, getting a running start and leaping. Arthur dove back inside. The Tick hung from the window for a moment before pulling himself inside. "Hi, Carmelita!" he said to the moth-suited woman staring in amazement from the kitchen doorway.
***
Coffee and stories were shared. "So you're back here as a playwright?" Arthur asked.
"Yep!" The Tick answered.
Carmelita looked confused. "And you're not doing any superheroing atall?"
"Nope!" The Tick answered.
"Why not?" Arthur asked.
"The City has plenty of protectors, including the two of you. I'm here because Destiny brought me back! It showed me that not all the world's a stage, but the part where I'm needed sure is!"
"But The Terror's been on a rampage for months!" Carmelita shouted. "He's been going around attacking people in his spider walker thing for to pay people back for every slight anyone's ever paid him. We need you, Tick!"
"You'll get him eventually," Tick said.
"But--" Carmelita started before Arthur interrupted her with a hand on her shoulder. "He gets like this sometimes," Arthur explained in a whisper.
Louder and to Tick, Arthur said, "So, what's the play about?"
Tick grinned widely. "It's about a young man with bagpipes that used to be owned by a troll who needs the bagpipes to cure his true love who's sick, but the bagpipes are broken and he needs to get them fixed!"
A small smile crossed Arthur's face. "We've missed you, Tick."
"I've missed you too, Arthur! Group hug!" The Tick then hugged both moths so tightly that they were near asphyxiation. That's how happy he was to see them again.
He barely heard a noise over their wheezing, but it was an unmistakable sickly throat rumble. The Tick let go and looked around. "Is that Speak? Where are you, boy? Call out to me and I'll find you!"
"Tick..." Arthur said, trying to let air back into his lungs. "Look... behind... the couch."
The Tick, of course, lifted the couch with one hand. "There you are, boy! Do you mind if I take him back?"
"Definitely not. He's all yours," Carmelita said. Someone a tad more observant than Tick would have recognized the tone that suggested that she was only keeping the rodent because of Arthur anyway.
"Keen! Thanks!" Tick said. "I do have a meeting at the theater in a little bit, so I should get going. Thank's for welcoming me back, though!"
"Do you have someplace to stay?" Arthur asked.
"I have ideas of places to stay, Arthur! Don't worry about me and Speak!" Tick said, walking back to the window.
Carmelita looked confused again. "You could just--"
Arthur shook his head. This was the way The Tick did things. "Visit anytime. It's good to have you back."
"It's good to be back, Arthur!" Tick said, climbing out the window with a large rodent in one hand. "I'll see you later! Spoooooon!" And with that, he flung himself back across the street where he would climb one-handed up to the roof before making his way to Downtown The City.
***
Afternoon:
The Tick arrived at the theater just in time to see a sight he certainly didn't expect.
A giant, black, spider-type thing was in front of the building, boxing glove extended. From a PA system on the machine, an elderly, wheezing, EVIL voice could be heard. "I want a refund! I saw a vaudville show here back in 1946 and it was terrible! Pay up the fifty cents or I'll sock you in the eye!"
The Tick took off his backpack, laid it on the roof, and placed Speak on top of it. "Guard this with your life, boy! I have to talk to Evil!"
The Tick leaped off the roof to the sidewalk. Speak fell over into a laying position on the backpack.
"Excuse me? Terror? It is I, The Tick!" Tick said, walking up to the machine.
The spider-machine turned towards The Tick. "The who?"
"The Tick! Your most recent arch-nemesis? Blue costume? Antennae?"
"Oh, right, Tick. How are you, lad?" The Terror asked.
"Not bad," Tick said. "But I have a meeting here in five minutes and I think you might make me laaaaaaaaaaaaa!" That last bit was yelled as he flew through the air and into a building.
The boxing glove on The Terror's vehicle wound back up. "That'll show him. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. Twenty cents, you cheapskate!"
Moments later a thud could be heard on top of the walker. Shortly after that, the sound of three inches of steel being ripped apart could be heard. And then The Tick could be seen, dropping down right in front of The Terror. "I'm going to have to confiscate this mechanical terror, Terror! And then you're going to spend time in Detention!"
"Detention?" The Terror asked. "What, are you getting senile?"
"No, I'm getting educational!" Tick said threateningly.
A scuffle could be heard over the PA system and then...
"Say you're sorry."
"Ow! Hey, watch it, you whippersnapper! Hey! Fine, fine, fine, I know when I'm beat. I'm... LASERS!"
The sound of lasers could be heard.
"Hey! That's dirty pool! You're also going to have to write an essay about what you did wrong now!"
"Okay, okay, fine. I'm sorry for trying to get back the twenty cents you owe me, cheapskate! Wouldn't be necessary if he realized that vaudeville was dead at the time!"
"Now, let's go wait outside for the cops to take you to detention."
"Seriously, are you going senile?"
"Nope!"
***
After the police picked The Terror up, The Tick missed his meeting. Instead he stood on rooftop with Speak and his backpack. "Well, Speak, that was fun. I guess I'm not off the Mountain of Authority yet like I thought I was. The Mountain of Playwright was a slight detour. "
"Well, I guess that settles it. Destiny lead me back here just to stop The Terror. You know what that means, don't you, Speak? I guess that's what I'm supposed to be doing. Fighting evil. Again."
The Tick grinned and posed dramatically. "SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!" he yelled.
And all over The City, insurance rates rose.
Their big, blue champion was back.
[OOC: This has been an epilogue to The Tick's time in Fandom. Thanks for reading.
This journal will continue to be updated, though, because I can't completely leave the big guy behind. I have thoughts on Post-Fandom Tick Fic and what I would want to do with him from here on out, so I'll be using this journal for that.
If he ever returns as a guest character for some reason none of the stuff in here will be considered game canon. It's just for my use. :D]