The RAF uniformed superhero carefully picked his way through the crowds, offering quiet apologies to anyone he jostled, before marching up to stand alongside Tigress, his arms folded over his chest and his eyes narrowed slightly as he sized up the BDP goons. "Is there something the matter here, 'gentlemen'?" he asked, trying very hard not to make it rhyme with 'scum'; not that it was easy, given his personal dislike of thugs like these clowns.<br/><br/>Or indeed like their political idols, Sir Oswald Mosley and his black shirted hooligans back in the 30's. Gavin had once had the dubious 'pleasure' of being in Hyde Park when Mosley had been having a rally there before the War; and the ghastly displays that the BUF had put on at the time had disquietened him. Naturally, once the war had broken out, he'd come to detest Fascism in all its' forms; and with his travel to Modern Times, well it had just proved him right.<br/><br/>As he waited for one of the jackbooted goons to speak up, he idly flicked at the corner of the cardboard carry-box he had at his waist, which held his old military issue gas mask; it was as much a part of the uniform as anything else, but it was still fully operational, in case the goons tried to get cute.<em>"Look at them...."</em>he thought to himself darkly as he waited.<em>"I'd swear they look</em>proud<em>to emulate Hitler's Prussian Butchers and Stormtroopers......"</em>