Ironman is a superhero because he's totally rich and smart and made his own suit so he could fly and stuff. This girl superhero who is also smart and rich made herself a super suit. What does it look like? What does it allow her to do?
At our last meeting, our super-awesome kick-ass women's writing group did a thirty-minute write-in. I used this superhero prompt, wrote for the full thirty, and this is what I came up with. Formulaic, cliche even... but so fun!
And so, with very little editing, I give you...
The Moth
By L.L. Heberlein
Sally picked up the phone. "Yell-ow," she answered, though not really enthusiastically. Her mind was far too occupied by more important things--physics, molecular chemistry, the wingspan velocity of an unladen swallow.
"Mizz Rex, your package has arrived," a man said in a crisp British accent. "Special delivery. Shall I send it up?"
"Of course," she said, then added, "Right away, Halloway"--always her little joke with her long-suffering butler.
When the box was wheeled in, it took up most of the door frame. Halloway had to tilt the box sideways, almost losing the entire load. Sally ran to grab the corner of the box before it fell. "Careful," she aid. "This is delicate material. Doesn't come cheap, either."
"If it is so delicate," Halloway said, raising an eyebrow, "then why bother with it at all?" He was always a little skeptical of her inventions. Rightfully so. Sally hadn't come up with anything truly functional since the creation of the wrinkle-free, wipe-clean fabric she invented three years ago. The always-clean, dirt-repelling nature of the fabric came with another interesting side-effect--it was also invisible to radar. Stealth fabric, imagine that. Between fashion designers and the military, Sally had added millions to her already ample trust fund.
The fabric--LightSweep, she called it--had made her more than enough money to invent the thing she really wanted.
"Behold, Halloway," she said, busting through the cardboard. "My latest, greatest invention--FeatherLight."
"So brilliant, Mizz Rex," Halloway tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice as he studied the gray bolt of mesh-like material. "But what does it do?"
"Ye of little faith." Sally rolled her eyes. "FeatherLight is the product of years of research into the molecular structure of moth wings. It is light as a feather--lighter--yet stronger than steel. It is soft as down, yet slices through metal with its razor-sharp edge. It's water-repellant, bullet-repellant. And once I get it on my framework--"
"Oh, that thing in the corner," Halloway sighed.
"Yes, Halloway, that thing. Once I apply this fabric to that frame--"
"Don't tell me you think you'll be able to fly."
Sally scowled. "I'm sorry, but don't you have some sort of butler-type-thing you should be doing?"
He tilted his head. "Yes, miss. Much butlering to be done downstairs. Is that all, Mizz Rex?"
"Yes, thank you." She nodded at him, then dove for the contents of the box. "Oh, and bring me a ham sandwich. Rye. No pickles."
"Of course, miss." Halloway bent his head forward and backed out of the huge ballroom that Sally had long ago transformed into her laboratory.
Ten minutes later, Halloway returned with the sandwich to find Sally applying strips of very thin, iridescent fabric to the metal frame. "Your sandwich, miss," he said, trying not to watch over her shoulder. He knew how much she hated having him watch her work.
"Thank you," she murmured through a mouthful of pins.
But the sandwich sat untouched, even hours later, when Halloway returned to clear the plate and turn off the lights he assumed she'd left on in the lab. He found her working feverishly on the project that looked to him like a cross between a gray circus tent and a complete disaster.
"Goodnight, miss," he said, knowing better than to remind her of the time. It was well after midnight, and Sally hadn't stopped. She wouldn't stop now--not until the project was finished.
It was sometime around sunrise when Halloway heard the scream.
The noise had come from the foyer--not a frightened scream, but one filled with joy. The sound of absolute elation.
"I did it!" Sally screamed. "It works! Oh, Halloway! Come here! It works! It works!"
"What in the world..." Halloway stepped into the foyer and found Sally perched on the edge of a railing, several feet above the hard marble floor.
"Watch this!"--And then she jumped.
Halloway let out a scream as his employer--more like a daughter to him since her parents died--plunged off the high railing--and flew.
She wasn't gliding, wasn't parachuting. Sally was actually flying.
"It works perfectly, Halloway! Look!" She landed at his feet, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then launched herself back into the air. "What do you think of that!"
"I... I... I..." Halloway was at a loss for words.
"Brilliant, isn't it!" Sally beamed. "Do you know how long mankind has been trying to invent actual, functional wings like these?"
He coughed. "The mind recalls the story of Icarus, miss."
"I mean, forget the military applications for a moment, and just think of what this means for all of humanity." She smiled. "What's Icarus?"
"Icarus, of the wax wings, miss," he said. "An ancient myth of a boy with wings made of wax. He flew too close to the sun, and plunged to his death, I believe."
Sally did a summer-salt in midair and laughed. "These are no wax wings, Halloway. These are made of pure FeatherLight. Even the base is made of an alloy similar in structure to the FeatherLight fabric. Both are patented to me, of course."
"Of course," Halloway said, feeling his chest tighten as he watching Sally fly to the highest point of the ceiling, some thirty feet above. "But will they hold?"
"Of course they'll hold. I invented them for military as well as civilian applications. Here--" She dove from the ceiling to the ground, swooping to a stop at the last second. She landed softly at Halloway's feet, then took a gun from a holster at her side. "Shoot me!"
"No!" Halloway screeched in a voice that was quickly losing its proper deference.
"Yes!" Sally answered. "Not me, of course. I meant the wings. Try to shoot one off."
"Miss... I don't think that is such a good idea..."
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