Once they were considered gods, who's actions were above those of the human race, but now, as their numbers increase in the modern world, they have to answer to an new set of laws. Heroes contend for sponsors, companies that can pay towards the mounting cost of insurance, and sell their merchandise in a bid to become popular. As it becomes easier to identify and track people, their costumes become more elaborate, incorporating modern technology into iconic designs in an effort to keep their identities secret and their loved ones safe. Gone are the days of men in tights and vigilantes who skulk in the night in search of criminals, replaced by the requirement of bullet proof face masks and Superhero licences.
The romantic superheroes of the 1980's, displaced by a regimented, government run task force of gifted individuals, have had to adapt to this new world, whilst new and younger metahumans embrace the opportunity to fulfil their dreams of being called heroes.
Crowds of people had turned up for the Hero Parade through the streets of Matropolis. The event, that had once been so small, had snowballed into a national holiday as hero culture swept the world. Every country had it's own masked Supers that were praised for protecting their citizens, but the United States of America had the most iconic.
Marching bands, floats and balloons began to work their way onto the roads. Cheers could already be heard echoing around the buildings, but the roar intensified as the first hero float came into view.
"You've got this, Garfield!" Announced one of the Heroes, rooting himself as the gaudy green float started to move.
Sunlight swept over him as he held his arms wide, ready to accept the admiration of his fans. He drank it in, every cry, every squeal of delight!
The hero on the float in front rolled his eyes, but no body could see because of the mask covering his face. Something about attention seeking heroes who want worship bugged him.
"Hay! You gotta wave, Robin!" Shouted someone from the middle of his float.
He turned to look at the man in black body armour and a cape. The iconic yellow bat on the chest piece was blinding as it glittering gold in the light. Robin sighed, taking up what had been dubbe the 'hero pose' before waving to the screaming torrents of people below. If they knew that most of the Supers they had come out to worship today were just actors, would they still come to these events?
Yet again, his train of thought was interrupted.
"'Sup Dicky-bird?" Asked an annoyingly familiar voice.
Robin suddenly found himself standing next to Garfield Dayton, AKA Beast Boy. The only super in the world without a secret identity, so whom subsequently could not be replaced by an actor, much to Robin's dismay.
"Dayton..." He responded flatly as a green arm flung around him.
"Why aren't you smiling?!"
Again, Beast Boy raised his arms and worked the crowd into a frenzy. He was iconic; no other modern hero paraded themselves and shared their lives on social media. Garfield Dayton was the at pinnacle of cultural success and popularity, and it was down to his unique combination of hero status, super powers, electric personality, love of attention, acts of charity, wealth, and looks.
There was literally no way for him to hide and adopt a secret identity, because Garfield Dayton...
Was green.
Setting: An interview stage with two, red tub chairs facing each other on a wooden floor. The audience is obscured by the spot lights.
In one chair sits Garfield Dayton in a red double breasted shirt. In the other sits David Schwimmer in a black jumper (sweater).
David: So, what's it like being green?
Gar: *Chuckles* I love it!
David: Must be hard to, just, blend in though.
Gar: Well. Some people spend so much time trying to stand out, trying to be different. I don't have to-
David: It comes naturally-
Gar: Hah, yeah.
David: But do people ever... make you feel bad about it?
Gar: Being green, or standing out?
David: Oh, both!
Gar: Sometimes. Some people call me an attention whore, which I guess is kinda true, but I think they're jealous I'm more popular then them. *Joking*
David: Oh, ho ho!
Gar: Yeah. And, um, sometimes someone will say something like "I couldn't cope being green." or "Why don't you get plastic surgery?"
David: Plastic surgery?!
Gar: Yeah!
David: You'd end up like Michael Jackson!
Gar: NO! Aw, no.
David: What do you say when you're, um, asked that?
Gar: "Why don't YOU get plastic surgery?"
David: Savage!
Gar: I wish. It back fires when you live in California. "I have HAD plastic surgery! I can refer you to my surgeon."
David: Ouch.
Gar: Yeah, I would never get plastic surgery, though.
David: You don't need it!
Gar: Thanks.
