31 Plays in 31 Days: #5 - "Chasseur"

This piece is to introduce a character I've had in mind for a while now, a ballet-themed superhero called Chasseur that would be an addition to my superhero universe. I'm considering calling it "Vantage" after the name of the fictional city it takes place in. It was surprisingly hard to figure out how to present, until it occurred to me stage it as a conversation with Bantam, questioning his credentials to be a superhero. It helped up the conflict a little bit. This needs much more shaping to be a full ten-minute play, but it has a lot of really fun, funny ideas in it that I would like to develop later.

Also, sharp-eyed readers may note, he can only do TEN consecutive pirouettes. He may be a superhero, but he's still not Baryshnikov. ;-)

Day #5 - "Chasseur"

BANTAM, a rooster-themed brawler superhero, mid twenties
CHASSEUR, a ballet-themed superhero, mid twenties
~~~

(Two superheroes, BANTAM and CHASSEUR, hang out on a rooftop.)

BANTAM: Doesn’t that mean… “shoe”?

CHASSEUR: Your schoolboy French fails you. I’m “Chasseur,” not “chaussure.” It means “hunter.”

BANTAM: You don’t sound French to me.

CHASSEUR: I’m not. It’s just most of the terms in ballet are. I thought that was the most intimidating derivation I could come up with.

BANTAM: Everybody’s going to think your name is “Shoe.”

CHASSEUR: Big talk from somebody called after a chicken.

BANTAM: Of course, if you’re going for intimidating, it’s not like ballet gives you a lot to work with.

CHASSEUR: What’s that?

BANTAM: Well, I mean, you know…

CHASSEUR: Are you implying that ballet is, how do you say, for sissies?

BANTAM: Oh, no. I’m sure it’s really tough to get good at. But come on, it’s not like—

CHASSEUR: Boxing? Like what you do?

BANTAM: It teaches you to take a hit, that’s for sure. Can’t be a wuss for that.

CHASSEUR: And you think you can to dance ballet?

BANTAM: Well—

CHASSEUR: They’re more like superheroes than boxers.

BANTAM: Oh, bullshit.

CHASSEUR: No kidding.

BANTAM: Boxers fight! Superheroes have to be able to.

CHASSEUR: You might laugh, but you know nothing. It’s actually the perfect synergy between jobs.

BANTAM: How do you figure?

CHASSEUR: Since I was seven years old, I’ve spent of my time training my body to endure punishing physical challenges and to perform exceptional athletic feats. In fact, you could almost view it as a form of cross-training. You can bet that when I’m leaping for my life, I’m leaping pretty damn high.

BANTAM: It takes more than being fit.

CHASSEUR: My skill set lends itself very nicely too! Like, how about grabbing hold of damsels and carrying them off over your head, or throwing them into the air?

BANTAM: Well— the average woman you’re going to rescue is going to weigh more than a ballerina—

CHASSEUR: And can you kick high enough to nail a minion square in the jaw?

BANTAM: Still. That doesn’t make you tough.

CHASSEUR: Oh, yeah? Try doing all that for three solid hours and finishing on ten consecutive pirouettes.

(Pause.)

CHASSEUR: And, hey! I’m used to working in tights!

(He laughs.)

CHASSEUR: Anyway. The point I’m getting at is, when you’re in costume— two words. Dance. Belt. It’ll change everything.

(He pats BANTAM on the shoulder.)

CHASSEUR: You’ll thank me later.

(He leaps out.)