Creating a Female Superhero Challenge

This is my entry for the Creating a Female Superhero Challenge. An excellent idea - and one I could also set my students to work on. I got quite a few Puppy Girls from them, and a pair of Iron Men from the ring-in second grade boys that were in my class that day (even though I kept pointing out the gender, but hey, what are you going to do with 7 year-olds?)

Author: David Ashton
Word count: 397 for the character bio, 412 for the story
Anthology: Yes
Charity: Any of them, they all sound good

Yeah, I can't draw, so some outlines thrown over
textures is the best you're going to get

Name of female superhero: Darkweaver

Name of human alter ego: Glynnis Carr

Human alter ego appearance: As Glynnis, her clothing ranges the gamut of colours and shades. She doesn't wear the complete opposite of her costume - all rainbows all the time - nor does it echo its monochromatic scheme. She wears a pewter necklace: a meaningless sigil of her own devising to remind her of how lucky she is. When asked about it, she always tucks it back under her top and says it was a keepsake given to her long ago.

Superhero Appearance: Completely concealed by her costume.

Costume:  A form fitting suit of swirling greys and blacks with indigo highlights and ultramarine lenses.

Personality as Darkweaver: Vengeful and angry at the injustice at the world. There are no snappy one liners from this heroine.

Personality as Glynnis Carr: Often downcast, but at times happy in that deceptively brittle way that signifies that you're trying, but there is still a lot of healing to go

Brief description of how the superheroine gets her powers: In an attempt to rebel during her college days Glynnis dabbled in mysticism and the occult. It was meant to be harmless fun, but the rituals she was following became increasingly extreme and depraved. Something was listening - luckily not the dark and twisted gods she thought she was praying to - and granted her powers with no further explanation or instructions about what to do with them. Out of a guilty conscience about the rites she had conducted and a hope to expunge these acts from her soul’s record, Gylnnis works for good.... though not always in a way that is acceptable in the eyes of the law.

Powers: She can become insubstantial and two dimensional, allowing her to pass through objects and avoid physical injury. She can possess and control shadows. She can teleport by leaping from shadow to shadow. For short periods of time, She can be in multiple places at once if what she is targeting has more than one shadow.

Anything else important: Bright lights are not her kryptonite. Often they cast larger, darker shadows and so that plays into her hands.  Her weapons are a garrote, cosh and kris - the knife is yet another reminder to herself of her old ways. She is the type of vigilante that leaves corpses, not criminals caught red-handed.

A night on the town

The alley was dark but not deserted. A late night reveller was trying to spell his name on the side of the dumpster, copiously splashing urine in loops as he raced through the final letters. A door banged open, causing him to piss on his shoes.

“What the FUCK are you...” he snarled to the empty alley, “...goddamned wind...”

Zipping up, he continues on his way, trying to peer through the doorway as he draws opposite. There is just enough time for him to blink owlishly before the impact. A shower of his blood coats the wall behind him. When finished, the hulking figure pauses long enough to pick up one of the larger chunks in chitinous claws before stuffing the gobbet into its mandibles. Turning, it slams the door shut once again.

Glynnis was glad she’d finally given that friend of a friend’s friend the slip. As if buying a few drinks for her could make up for the appalling and unending self-indulgent commentary. It was times like these that she was glad she could walk through walls. The park wasn’t really on her way home, but she always made a point of walking through it at night. Slowly, thanks to her actions, it was being reclaimed by couples and families - though not at this hour. When she heard footsteps and mocking laughter behind her Glynnis was surprised and a little disappointed. Her relaxed pace continued, until she was surrounded.

“It ain’t safe, walking alone here at night,” leered one of the thugs, eyeing her up and down.

Glynnis nodded, then winked into his shadow, engulfed by her outfit of greys and blacks, kris appearing in her hand.

“Yes, you’re right,” she whispered into his ear, her smile hidden beneath her mask. Slowly, she slid the blade along his throat.

The morning news made no mention of her escapades in the park, but she was sure the message was received loud and clear in certain circles. The television was full of the usual fluff pieces about celebrities and grumbling about the economy.When they recapped the morning headlines -  a lurid dismemberment, fuzzily caught in a security camera - Glynnis froze in mid bite, her toast forgotten. Those pincers... the spines... it couldn’t be, could it? She had burned all the books and smashed the figurine! It seemed Glynnis wasn’t the only acolyte who dabbled successfully in in the dark arts. But unlike her the other had embraced the monstrosity.

Change of plans!

Well, that ended up being a far more unproductive hiatus than I expected. I had plans of scaling back flash fiction entries to ramp up working on my novel, but that didn't really eventuate. As with previous book writing attempts, I lost impetus, and then started forgetting things (like the name of the big baddie and other important elements). Though I think I worked out what the problem was - all my attempts at longer pieces have taken themselves far too seriously. A corollary of this is they've often been far too sweepingly grand and epic in scope and scale, so I've ended up overwhelming myself. Instead of trying for a tome that you could use to bludgeon a burglar to death, I have decided I'm better off with a lighter, more comedic and thinner first attempt. So I think I'm about to declare it a wash out (for now), and start something more true to my normal style of writing. I guess in theory I could try plugging along, but I'm thinking it'd be better to shelve it instead. I do like the laid back 350-a-day pace - even though there have been days (or perhaps that should be weeks) where not a skerrick has got done so I will probably stick with that.

Happily Ever After

I'd always thought things would never change. Except for the better, of course. But like most people, when I say that, I don't really mean it - it's more a hypothetical "some day in the future, in a way that doesn't impact on my comfortable life" change. I didn't want some huge fairy-tailesque ugly duckling or Cinderella conversion that I'd pinned my hopes and dreams on. That never seemed to pan out in the stories, so I didn't think it'd be any different in real life.

But it did change. It was incremental. Glacially slow. So slow in fact, that I never noticed. But through some weird kind of alchemy, I'm apparently an adult. Of course, there's relapses - no magic is completely foolproof. There has to be an evil stepmother or a wicked witch somewhere in the mix. It's not as bad as I thought it would be... happily my childhood prayer along the lines of "If I lose the sense of fun and foolishness and enjoyment of the simple things in life, please let me at least find satisfaction in somber monotony, so that I don't miss it" hasn't yet been necessary and it doesn't seem that it ever will be. So that is definitely some magic I have to be thankful for.



This isn't as polished as I'd like it to be, but it was better I complete this week's Trifecta writing challenge than keep it as a work in progress that I may or may not get back to. The prompt word was alchemy, and it ties in nicely to my weekend entry of advice giving. And since I am new to Trifecta, here's my introduction, too.

For the Hoard!

The climb was steep, and many times we’d thought about turning back. But we finally made it to the top of the volcano.

Although it was dormant, the fearful inhabitants of the nearby  village  claimed they saw the occasional wisp of smoke still arising from it... the caldera was said to be the demesne of a truculent dragon. Pfft. Dragons! Who believes those things are still alive these days? But there might still be some of the hoard up there, especially when the local populace is so lily livered.

The climb was steep, and many times we’d thought about turning back. But we finally made it to the top of the volcano.

The crater was huge, rocky, and (of course) devoid of large, scaly reptilian monsters. Unfortunately it was also depressingly treasure free. There wasn’t even a cave to build our hopes up. Just... lots of bones... scattered around...  everywhere...

Picture source

The word choice for this week's Monday Mixer was obvious once I'd read them, the story finished itself in no time flat. 

Trifecta Introduction

What is your name (real or otherwise)?
Snellopy. It comes from a starship pilot from an alien race in a computer game called Star Control 2, that I loved in high school.

Describe your writing style in three words. 
Aliens! Dragons! Humour!

How long have you been writing online? 
Flash fiction since 2011. A few one-off pieces before that, but they were on forums that have since been shuttered. And long ago, DMing in Never Winter Nights. That sort of counts, right?

Which, if any, other writing challenges do you participate in? 
I'm erratic, flitting around between various challenges, based on the prompts and what time I can scrounge to write in. More often than not, I only get to outline in my head what I'd write for it. Most of them have fairly low word counts, so that I am more likely to complete them as I have a short attention span. Here's a partial list:

The 100 Word Challenge

Tobias Mastrgrave posts plenty of prompts


Lillie McFerrin's Five Sentence Fiction

The Parking lot Confessional

Jeffrey Hollar's Monday Mixer

Mid-Week Blues-Buster

Business Card Fiction (though it seems to be dead)

Chuck Wendig has a prompt every Friday on Terrible Minds, and it was his site that got me back into writing.

Describe one way in which you could improve your writing. 
A lot less commas.

What is the best writing advice you’ve ever been given? 
I love Chuck Wendig's Terrible Minds blog. All his advice is awesome. One excellent bit of advice he has is: Finish your Shit. I've a bunch of unfinished pieces that I'm slowly completing. When they're all done, I'll feel a lot better about how infrequently I write.

Who is your favorite author?  
Terry Pratchett, hands down. I loved him as a kid, and when I've revisited him, I've still enjoyed his books immensely (that hasn't always been the case when I've revisited some authors I was nostalgic about).

How do you make time to write?
Spare moments and downtime at work. Weekends and evenings is family time. My wife has said that I can have typing time if I want it at home, but I use that sparingly at the moment - maybe when I'm writing my third omnibus for my fifth series I'll take her up on that more frequently.

Give us one word we should consider using as a prompt. Remember--it must have a third definition.
Pendulous

Direct us to one blog post of yours that we shouldn't miss reading.
I had a lot of fun writing this one: Progress report on Research Subject C1-MMA 

Who ever listens to advice?

Maturity is overrated. Important things like childlike wonder and an appreciation of simple pleasures are often trampled in the rush towards finding a special someone and a pay packet. Is it worth it?

*

I've been planning to enter Trifecta for a long time now, but never had time. They have a week day challenge, and a weekend Trifextra which is limited to 33 words, and runs over the weekend. This time, it was to give some advice.

Monday Mixer - Student entries

I love getting my kids to do work to send to friends, or to enter into competitions. For the past few weeks, some of my students have watched me do (and given their input on) my Monday Mixer. Last week, I decided I was going to get them to do it but then promptly forgot. So, I inflicted it on them this week. The language is a bit hard for them, after explaining the words, I also gave them some they could swap out for them (only fair since they’re third graders with varying levels of ESL). I know the definitions don't line up 100% with some of the words, but it'll do. I typed them up with only the minimum of error corrections, mainly fixing typos and tense. Since it's not my work, I can't enter them in the competition, but I did tell them there's a chance of extra bribes for any that readers like, so feel free to lavish praise

This is by the student who gave me pointers. After reading her work I asked her if she could jam in another one of the prompts and go for overachiever, and so she went back and edited her work, swapping mountain out for beach. Quite frankly, I think her entry is better than mine.

The Artist
Yesterday at early dawn as I was strolling across a peninsula in Australia, I saw a dilettante sitting beneath a tree, sketch book in hand, pencil drawing slowly. As he finished, I had decided to buy it, so I took out my purse and handed the artist five dollars. I looked at the picture. “How interesting” I thought, as I stared at the picture I had bought. The artist had started to draw yet another picture. He drew the same picture of the beach I had bought and they were both identical. I looked around but there was no beach in sight. The artist was looking at me. He smiled and turned the page of his sketch book and quickly drew another picture and gave it to me. I offered him five dollars but he didn’t accept it. “You’ve done enough for me.” he said. I walked away, smiling.

***


Another overachiever, though the brusque replacement has morphed into an adverb. Close enough is good enough, I reckon.


When I go to the beach
Yesterday, my family went to the beach. My dad and I had a swimming race. I am good at swimming so I swim faster than my dad. But when my dad lost he said he is happy when I win. When my dad and I went to swim, my mum is cooking with a spatula to make barbeque for me and my family. When we were playing my baby sister looked like a lazy person lying on the sand and had some rest after eating lots of sandwiches. When my dad is tired of playing he sits down and read the newspaper. He said that a woman has lost a handbag at the bank. If anyone see it call her by this number 08 67589 911. Then we played happy at the beach with my baby sister then we are hungry and ate barbeque.

***

This story had to be highly edited back down to 150, it lost a bit of cohesion, and the monster turned from an amalgam of a few animals into just a fox. She also had to hack out a heap of wonderful language to get it under the word count.

The Humphrey
On a beach, there was Humphry. Humphrey is a big fox. There was a rude lady who went to the beach. She didn’t meet Humphrey. But an artist did, because he needed to draw a picture of Humphrey.
“Why did you come near Humphrey to draw a picture? Don’t you know what he looks like?” the lady asked.
“No,” the artist replied, “I need to come to Humphrey to see what he looks like. Humphrey’s harmless.”
“Whatever!” the lady thought “is the artist telling the truth?”

The lady soon saw Humphrey. It roared at her. “The artist lied!” the lady said. When she met the artist, she said to him “You lied! He just roared!”
“I told the truth. Humphrey’s harmless to good people. He roared at you because you’re rude.” the artist said. Then the lady left.

***

Yet another over-achiever. I’d like to say that they look on me as an inspiration, but that’s a pretty big lie.

Saturday and Sunday
“Today can I go to the beach with Peyton?” asked Anna.
“Alright,” said mom, “But make sure you come back before 6:30 PM, OK?”
While Anna was walking she met her friend Emily.
“Where are you going?” asked Emily.
“To the beach,” answered Anna. When they got to the beach, they asked Peyton if she wanted to build a sand castle.

After that, they went for a swim. At 3:30 PM Peyton saw an artist and asked if she could draw a bank next to a cemetery. After 3 hours it was time for Anna to go home. When Anna got home, she started writing quickly in her diary. Then her mother took her to buy some handbags and a purse. The next day Emily came to Anna’s house for about 3 hours. Then Anna went to the library with her father. At the library she met Peyton and they went out for dinner.


***


This story was just finished in the time limit, so she didn’t have a chance to revise.

The Weird Bank
Once in a beach there was a bank. Inside the bank there was a spatula, a pan, and a cook. One day an artist came in and said “This is a perfect place for my job!” So the artist started to draw a cook, a spatula and a pan in a lazy way. After a while the bank teller said “This is a weird bank because there is a cook and an artist inside and there should not be one in the bank.” she yelled it so loud that everyone heard her.

She said “I quit!” and left, and shut the door with an angry face. The artist said “It was more interesting when the bank teller was here.” Then the bank teller came back with a happy face. She said “I’m sorry for shouting at you guys.” They all worked better and stayed together happily.

***


Another that just scraped in within the time limit

Angry Artist
Once there was an angry man. He lost his handbag at the beach. Then he looked and looked for it, but he could not find it. Then he said if I don’t have that handbag I will lose my job. The job for the angry man was being an artist. In that handbag there was a lot of artist things. The angry artist still had his money. Then he went to the bank and got more money. Then when he was lined up for the money he saw his handbag on the woman’s back. Then he said “Hey! That is my handbag!” The woman said “No, this is not your handbag.” The woman opened the handbag and he looked inside for any artist things. But there were no artist things inside the handbag. Then he went back to the hotel and he saw his handbag on the chair.

***


I do have a couple more students (only 10, so it's a breeze!), but they didn’t complete their stories in the allotted time.