Like Mr. Incredible
A short story written by Wild Knightblazer
Aside from the concept of my characters (Lee/Wild Knight, Ruth/Sharpye), I do not own anything that's originally the intellectual property of NCSoft and Cryptic Studios. Teresa/Dragon Huntress isn't mine either.
Based off of an actual occurrence in my career. I apologize in advance if it seems like I'm tooting my own horn.
The citizens of Paragon City would not describe Perez Park as the kind of neighborhood where one could take a nice, calming stroll. With thick mobs of Hellions and Skulls patrolling the streets and the Circle of Thorns, Clockwork, and Lost infesting the actual park, one couldn't blame them – no one in their right mind wanted to be abducted and subjected to horrible magical rituals or psychic initiations or burnings during their morning jog.
When you were boasting a security level in the high thirties and lower-tier thugs were afraid to even breathe in your general direction, it was a little safer.
As it was, when Lee was passing through, the boots of his knightly armor clanking noisily on the deserted street, he wasn't really taking a relaxing walk – he was just taking a shortcut back home.
Still, though he could have activated his speed powers and been home in approximately point three seconds, he opted for a slower pace. It gave him enough time to think – and he liked thinking better when he was on the streets than when he was sitting on his couch in his apartment, watching the latest stupid prime-time action movie. Thinking was exercise for him – and it's better to exercise outside than it is lounging on your couch, isn't it?
…Maybe I should just speed home, he grumbled, examining his armored hand – there was still a trace of green slime between his index and middle fingers, which he quickly wiped away. I'm not sure I want to think about what I've just done.
The fight with Terra…Tanya Tyler was stuck on replay in his head. Over and over again, he saw both the face of the pretty brunette, and the horrible, gaping mouth of the green monster she had morphed into. Even when he had stood on the streets of Allegeheny Square, facing her down, he had hesitated, unsure if what he was doing was really the right thing.
We're heroes.
We're supposed to save people from fates like these.
Not punish them for it.
Sure, the circumstances had made the encounter unavoidable. The monstrosity known as Hamidon had been determined to transform his old lover into the "mother" of his natural army, the Devouring Earth. When one was dealing with a force as great as Hamidon – an entity that had been destroyed several times, each time by hundreds upon hundreds of heroes, and yet still managed to come back for more – it was difficult to make things go the way that the force did not want them to.
…Nice try, but that doesn't make me feel any better.
He exhaled slowly, stopping in the middle of the street. He heard his cape ripple in the harsh wind and absentmindedly grabbed the corner of it to stop the noise. Aside from the wind whooshing past his ears shrilly, all was silent in Perez Park.
Lee was thankful for that. If there had been any other noise, he may have lost it right there.
How naïve could I have been? Did I really leave my job, my life, my fiancée, to pursue something called justice?
How is punishing Ms. Tyler as a result of Hamidon's machinations "justice"?
He noticed he was close to the Atlas Park gate and sighed. His apartment was in Atlas Park – and yet he still didn't feel like walking the two miles from the Perez gate to the little flat he called home. He didn't feel like watching new heroes get beaten down only to have another hero swoop in, defeat the villain they were fighting, and take full credit for the arrest – without even acknowledging the fallen newbie. He didn't feel like watching yet another woman getting mugged, her purse stolen, obligating him to take a small detour and toss his complimentary throwing knife into the crook's leg.
Why do those heroes only use their strength to make themselves feel good? Why do I feel obligated to help out that poor woman?
He bit his lip. Good lord, I really was naïve back then. When he came to Paragon City, he had visions of being Mr. Incredible – hell, one of the reasons he liked the opening scene of The Incredibles was that Mr. Incredible felt it was his duty to help out everyone, from the old lady with her cat in the tree to the cops chasing down the speedster to the man attempting suicide.
How stupid could I have been? It's a Disney movie. Things were never that way in real life.
It didn't seem like anyone could really be Mr. Incredible.
Lee grunted and started walking towards the Atlas Park gate.
And then he heard a blood-curdling scream.
His foot stopped short in midair, and his forehead creased in concern.
He whirled around.
The sight that welcomed him would have scared the crap out of him when he was a lowly swordsman with a baggy gray shirt and a white headband.
As it was, the mob of Skulls – there must have been thirteen or fourteen of them – chasing the four young heroes inspired fear in him for a different reason.
"Someone help!" a young man in electric-blue and gold tights shouted before he was hit soundly in the head with one of the Skulls' sledgehammers, sending him crumpling to the ground. The blonde woman wearing a blue suit of armor screamed unintelligibly as he landed.
The other two heroes stopped short and stood side-by-side, one of them firing blue blasts of energy into the mob wildly while the other desperately waved her hands, surrounding the four of them in clear bubbles. It wasn't enough to keep the bullets from hitting them, sending blood flying and screams into the air.
And Lee stood frozen.
And the silliest question came to mind.
What would Mr. Incredible do?
In a flash, the Wild Knight drew his longsword and shouted, "Hey! Over here, you bastards!"
Every single one of the Skulls froze solid, eyeing the hero standing several meters away as he clenched his fist in front of him. The sight of a man in what appeared to be midnight-black knightly armor, wielding a three-foot-long sword and with a flowing blood-red cape, rooted the thugs to the ground for a second.
The second was all the Wild Knight needed. Time to open up the can of whoop-ass.
Activating his super speed, he blasted forward, suddenly rubbing shoulders with the Skulls, and swirled his sword around him in a blur. Five or six Skulls were felled instantly – that was all the rest needed to break their trance and begin shooting at him.
He dodged one bullet that had aimed for his head and let the rest bounce off his armor as he swung his sword in a wide arc, taking down another three with that one slash. By this time, the remaining four or five had evidently decided it might be a good idea to run – shouting in fright, some of them dropped their submachine guns and began stumbling away. The Wild Knight didn't let them – he threw a knife at the farthest one, hearing it thud satisfyingly, and leapt over to the others, downing one with a single slash and then dashing over to the others to deal the same.
It all happened in about seven seconds. In that short amount of time, the Skulls had all been dispatched, and the three surviving heroes watched the Wild Knight warily.
"How did you manage to pull that off?" the Wild Knight asked, sheathing his sword and smiling indulgently so they would know he was kidding around. "The Skulls are vicious, but I've never seen a force that large try to take down a team as small as yours. You must have really done something to anger them."
One of the girls muttered something about "just lookin' around" while the blaster just glared at him resentfully, clutching his bleeding thigh.
"You need help with that?"
The glare softened.
For the next five minutes, the Wild Knight did the best he could for the four young heroes. He gave up approximately two thirds of his inspirational syringes – half of them to ease the pain of the bullet wounds, the other half to revive the fallen scrapper. As the four of them sat wearily against the wall of a skyscraper, the Wild Knight stood up and smiled down at them.
"The Atlas gate is a couple hundred meters that way – I don't think I saw any thugs between here and there. Do you think you can make it?"
"Probably," the scrapper said, shrugging, wincing, and grabbing the sides of his head in turn.
"…Nevertheless, you should probably wait at least another few minutes and make sure you can move before you risk it."
"Oh, it'll be fine," the blonde said offhandedly, suddenly standing up and grabbing the scrapper by the waist, hoisting him over her shoulder in a traditional fireman's hold – over his loud protests. "Leon needs a good kick in the pride, anyway."
"Lea' me 'lone, Claire," the scrapper grumbled, though he could make no further movements.
The Wild Knight chuckled. "Alright." He turned towards the gate himself, but cast a quick glance at the four young heroes. "Be careful in Perez Park, alright? This place is pretty deadly if you're not well-prepared. Build yourself up before you return – there are enough villains in the city for every hero to take on. You'll be able to take on this place when you're more experienced and better-equipped."
"We'll keep that in mind," the controller mumbled, wringing her hands embarrassedly.
"Godspeed, then."
The Wild Knight activated his super speed and tore out of there.
--
That night, Lee stood on his balcony, clad in a black hoodie and exercise pants, clasping his hands and leaning his arms on the railing as he watched the city crawl by beneath him. He didn't move for several minutes.
Not even the sudden shrill shriek of a nearby teleportation fazed him.
"Wow. Someone is out of it." Teresa grinned evilly, folding her arms and looking pointedly at Lee as her four-foot-tall body hovered in the air a foot or two away from the balcony.
"I think something's on his mind," Ruth interjected, balancing perfectly on the railing (Teresa's gravity-manipulation powers helped that a bit) with her hands on her hips. "Maybe he's pining or something."
Lee looked up at her. "Do I really seem like the pining type to you?"
"Ehh, maybe. There's all sorts of crazy stuff I don't know about you yet." Ruth paused, tilting her head curiously. "Did you ever have any old flames?"
"That's for me to know and you two to agonize over," Lee said swiftly, looking back across the skyline of Atlas Park.
"I knew he'd say that," Teresa grumbled, adjusting her position so that she was looking straight at Lee.
"Personally, I think that means he does, but doesn't want to talk about it," Ruth said sagely, though the mischievous smile (and the fact that she was standing on the railing) ruined the effect.
"Whatever." Teresa tilted her own head now. "What's on your mind, Lee?"
Lee shrugged. "Weird day, that's all." He bit his lip apprehensively. "…I couldn't save Ms. Tyler."
"Oh…" Ruth knelt down (though still keeping both feet on the railing) and reached out to give Lee a small one-armed hug. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright. Dr. Sherman and Ms. Yates called to tell me that she made it alright to the Zig, and that they're working on a way to help her."
"…Well, that's better than what we hoped for when you first discovered the plot," Teresa said, scratching her cheek nervously as she hovered. "At least you got her out of Hamidon's hands."
"Or pseudopods, as the case may be."
"Whatever."
Lee shuddered involuntarily; the very image of the giant Hamidon still instilled fear down his spine. "Enough about the Devouring Earth. Those creatures give me the creeps."
"No kidding." Teresa raised an eyebrow as she scrutinized Lee. "…What else is there?"
Lee bit his lip again. "…Not much. I was just on my way home through Perez when I noticed a group of new heroes being assaulted by a mob of Skulls. They were shouting for help, so I dove in and drove the Skulls off and then gave up two thirds of my inspiration-syringes to help them out."
He blinked at the sudden silence that fell over his two closest friends.
Lee raised his head to look at them – Ruth's eyes were wide and blinking, while Teresa had a small smile growing on her face.
"…What?"
"…Do you not realize what you did?" Ruth said rhetorically, still kneeling, her own mouth curling upward in a smile. "You saved the lives of a group of new heroes, took time out of your life to help them out, and probably provided them with the inspiration to continue their own heroic careers!"
Lee blinked. "…I…guess…What's your point?"
"…What's her point? You pull off something like that and you say 'what's your point?!'" Teresa, seemingly wound up, placed her hands on her hips. "You act like it didn't even matter, that it was just worthless. It's anything but. That's the kind of thing that defines you as a hero – a real hero. Being a hero is more than just carrying the I.D. card."
"Something a lot of so-called 'heroes' in this city don't realize," Ruth grumbled, finally hopping off the railing to land on the balcony proper. "I mean, okay. You couldn't save Ms. Tyler. But you stopped her from being used by Hamidon for his plan, and thanks to your efforts, she's being treated."
"And who exactly told you that you had to help out those newbie heroes? No one did," Teresa continued, reaching out and tweaking Lee's nose mischievously. "You did that all by yourself. You saved other human lives, you inspired them, by yourself. It's like getting a cat out of a tree or running an errand or something – it's a good deed that anyone can do, if they realize how heroic they are."
Lee suddenly straightened up, the realization dawning on him. "…Like the opening scene of The Incredibles?"
Teresa blinked, taken aback, and eventually shrugged. "I…guess, though I do have to wonder why you're referencing a kid's movie."
Lee chuckled softly. "Because I was thinking about that on the way home. I was thinking about how naïve I was when I first came here, expecting to be like Mr. Incredible in that scene."
There were a few seconds of silence as the two women processed the idea – Ruth had her head tilted, the side of her mouth drawn inquisitively; Teresa still hovered in the air, her hands on her hips.
"…That's pretty childish, but it's not a bad image," Ruth said. "It's better to hope to be like Mr. Incredible than to do it for the fame and fortune."
"Uh-huh. The fact that you tried to achieve that sense when you saved them says a lot." Teresa paused, seemingly for no reason other than dramatic effect. "The important part is, you saved some lives today and provided them with a little ray of hope. The more people do that, the more real heroes we'll get."
Lee shrugged, continuing to gaze out over the lights of the city.
Eventually, Teresa hovered a little closer and waved her hand in front of his face frantically. "Uh-oh. Did I break him?"
Lee stifled a snort of laughter.
Good deeds. That you don't need a license to do, that no one necessarily asks you to do.
It's doing things like that, entirely selflessly, for the sake of doing good, that defines one as a hero.
…Kinda like Mr. Incredible.
I'm horrible, I know. But this did actually happen. I've never seen those heroes again – not that I expected to – but though they probably don't even remember the incident anymore (or care – honestly, I saved them from one wipe, what difference does that make over the course of 50 levels?), it still makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
For the record, Wild Knight doesn't actually use a longsword. In retrospect, I wish he did, considering how much better it fits with the character concept, but sadly, the devs seem content to have Katana have the fewest weapon choices, so I can't even get a halfway-decent non-katana. Damn it.
That's it. Leave a review, flame, whatever – you know the drill.