taxonomites | 005: Holding Out for a Hero [Location/Visual]

As a child – and as an adult, too, although he’d kept his comic book collection hidden since meeting Zoe – Wash had been a fan of a very particular sort of cartoon. They usually involved explosions, colourful costumes and exciting but simple plots that could be wrapped up neatly in twenty minutes. They occasionally featured crossovers, where the heroes from the various spin offs joined forces to form the Galactic Justice League and protect the universe from a particularly dangerous threat.

He’d collected the comics since flight school. He could quote all the best speeches. And there was a number of action figures – some pristine and packaged, others a little battered from unsuccessful offensives against plastic dinosaurs – in a shoebox underneath his bed.

Picking a costume for Halloween had been easy, really.

Not that it was a costume anymore. The false muscles in the chest were suddenly very real, and Wash was currently zooming through the Taxon, cloak fluttering, as if he’d never know anything else. Even the mask – which wouldn’t protect any sort of secret identity in the real world – and the tights – which had been a bit embarrassing to put on – felt natural now.

He was a hero and, somewhere, somebody was in trouble.

“Do not fear, citizens of Taxon,” said Wash, in a voice very unlike his own, alighting on the roof of the Sanctuary, “No harm will come to you while I am here. I have taken an oath to protect those in need, and it seems that I have arrived here just in time.”

As he spoke, and proving his words through the cosmic laws of dramatic narratives, a mobat swooped through the mist towards him.

“Good gravy!” he exclaimed, “What manner of creature are you?”

Not that it mattered, of course. If this monkey bat creature intended to harm the people of Taxon, it was his place – nay, his duty - to stop them.

"Cease, evildoer," he said, holding out a hand to halt the beat, “As a member of the Galactic Justice League, it is my place to …”

The creature, whatever it was, wheeled around and disappeared back into the mist. With the sort of boundless enthusiasm that only a Saturday morning TV character can muster, Wash, one arm outstretched, zoomed off after it, leaving a vapour trail – and, in all likelihood, some very confused Taxon residents – in his wake.

OOC: Yes, thanks to the Halloween glitch, Wash has been transformed into an incredibly cheesy superhero. (I an indebted to both Gidget and DC comics for most of this cheesiness.) Think Mr Incredible meets Captain Hammer meets Adam West’s version of Batman. If you’d like to be rescued – whether you need it or not – or if you would simply like to gawp at him, feel free to tag!

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Zapping monkey bats, Elle's found, is actually a very enjoyable way to pass the time.

It certainly prevents them from getting too close to her, though some are sort of attracted by the blue light that arcs from her hands, almost like a fly to an outdoor light.

"What the hell are these things?" she mutters.

Wash is similarly attracted to the blue light, though for a very different reason. The pilot turned superhero lands next to Elle, his cloak fluttering in a suitably impressive way despite the distinct lack of wind.

"Citizen," he said, brisk and bold, "Your efforts to protect the city are commendable. However, I suggest you leave the vanquishing of evildoers to the professionals."

He treated her to a bright grin and a flash of very white teeth, obviously believing that he was in the right and Elle would be in no way offended by his words.

Oh, this is kind of priceless. Someone who clearly thinks that she's in need of rescuing. And she's a little insulted by the fact that she's not considered a professional, either.

(No one at the Company really thought so, but she showed them.)

"Really," she says, raising an eyebrow. "And how would you go about and vanquish, exactly?"

That was, unfortunately, a question that Wash couldn't answer. He'd encountered many strange things during his long years as a hero - though the years he'd spent frozen in a block of ice after being trapped by Iceraptor's deadly ray probably didn't count - and none of them had resembled the creatures he now had to engage.

"With a true heart and a great deal of courage, ma'am," he said, after a moment of consideration. After all, nothing - not Iceraptor nor cyborg nor alien monster nor monkey bat - would stand against a fearless warrior on the side of right, as long as he had a true heart. "Will you allow me to escort you to safety? The beasts will return soon."

Well, this is just priceless. Mal would appreciate just how priceless it was, if he weren't currently under the impression that he's Robin Hood.

"Yes, these fell beasts are quite foul, are they not?" He said this (in an utterly different accent from normal-- vaguely English) to his tablet as he shot one down (with a bow and arrow, yes), smiling with satisfaction. "You also fly, like them-- 'tis miraculous."

"I have never faced creatures like this before," agreed Wash, zooming through the Taxon skies with one eye on his tablet. "Not even during the civil wars on Regulak IV." The genetically engineered creatures of that particular planet had been so terrible that it had taken an entire Christmas special to defeat them.

On noting the bow and arrow, and admiring the man's determination to engage the creatures using nothing but primitive weaponry, Wash changed direction and began to fly towards 'Robin'.

"Do you require assistance?"

"Nor I." Mal shook his head disapprovingly at a stray swooping mobat, taking aim again as he did. "Though I confess I have not heard of Regulak IV. Is that in some far land? The Roman Empire, perhaps?"

...it's the early 1400s for our dear 'Robin', things are a bit behind. He let fly with another arrow, which sadly missed, and the mobat in question didn't seem to be prepared to let water run under the bridge.

"I would not say no, Bird-Man of Legend."

Yes, 'Bird-Man of Legend'. Really.

"Further than many humans have traveled," Wash confirmed. He hadn't heard of the Roman Empire, but, in keeping with the style of egotistical superheros everything, kept the lack of knowledge to himself. He had to remain a tower of strength in dangerous, confusing times. Any weaknesses must be hidden immediately.

Bird-Man of Legend? He rather liked that.

"Never fear, I am on my way."

And he zoomed narrowly past the mobat who had escaped the arrow, looping round in a needlessly showy fashion to face it once more.

"I will not warn you again," he said, imperiously, "Halt!"

"Impressive." Mal observed, in an appropriately reverent sort of way. When he remembers all of this, he's going to facepalm until the cows come home, and probably until they go back out again.

He was glad to hear that assistance was nigh, because he suspected the mobat had designs on his hair.

"Your arrival is timely indeed!" He shouted up, encouragingly. "Give the beast what for!"

Wash - or the artist formerly known as Wash, anyway - was fond of appropriate reverence. It was always good to know that people appreciated his efforts. Though he would naturally prefer it if the man asked for an autograph later on, instead of interrupting him now.

The mobot swooped towards him, and Wash swung a punch at the advancing creature. In an entirely different sort of media, the words 'pow' or 'zap' would have flashed up on the screen in colourful fonts to obscure the blow. In Taxon, the punch, in defiance of both gravity and logic, made contact and, although it didn't fell the monkey bat, it certainly knocked it temporarily off balance.

River, at this point in time, does not need to be rescued.

She's standing a block or two north of the Sanctuary for All in her now-dirty bottomed pointe shoes, staring at the sky with a certain sense of expectation.

People were changing all over, twisting into things they weren't. Things they shouldn't be. But Wash, all muscle and flying bravado, would be facepalming much less come morning, and River felt that she should help him catalog his heroic feats.

And confirm later that he was, indeed, a big damn hero.

In the absence of any damsels in distress or kittens stuck up trees, Wash patrolled the city from the air. He was ready and waiting to spring into action as soon as the opportunity arose. If the citizens of Taxon needed his help, then no manner of foe - be it supervillain or monkey bat - would stop him.

When he spotted the young woman watching him, the superhero came to an airborne halt.

"Do you require assistance, Miss?" he asked, his voice almost hopeful.

"No," said plainly as she watched him float and cataloged the physics-defying moment, holding the image as long as possible with a smile for all its strangeness.

Then her head turned and she pointed off and away.

"They turned left."

"Are you sure?" he asked, before adding, with a sudden flash of inspiration and ego: "It is a dangerous time, little miss. There are foul creatures prowling the skies."

Prowling wasn't necessarily the right word to apply to the strange monkey bat creatures, but it had a certain ... gravitas. It would certainly move her, if nothing else.

"You should allow me to escort you home. Left, you say? Then, once you are safe, the chase will begin!"

005: Holding Out for a Hero [Location/Visual]

[location: outside the sanctuary-for-all]

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[location: near the sanctuary]

[Location: Somewhere in the Sky]

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