Saturday 29 June 2013

The Dawn of Dark Star Creating A female Superhero Challenge


Drawing by Ethan Koch uploaded on Photobucket  

Name: Lizzie Koch
Word Count: 656
Anthology: Yes
Charity: Because I am A Girl
Name of female superhero:   Dark Star
Name of human alter ego:  Tiffany Saxon

Superhero appearance (hair, eyes, body type etc): Violet eyes, flowing dark hair with golden streaks that glow in the dark, slim build; waif-like, average height.      

Human alter ego appearance (if different): Dark hair tied back to hide glowing streaks, often wears a hat, on the short side at 5’3,  unnoticeable to others in her tatty jeans and t shirt; unemployed but  busks for money, playing her guitar. She takes to wearing different colour contacts to hide her violet eyes and her identity.  

Costume: Black cat suit made from Kevlar with a 4 point star on the chest, eye mask that frames her violet eyes. Chunky high heeled boots to give extra height.
Personality: As Dark Star, she is brave, energetic, unforgiving to those who do wrong. She is often silent, menacing and foreboding which makes her feared by those she encounters.  She is aggressive in her actions when in a confrontational situation. However, she does not avoid confrontation of villains; rather going hunting for it.

Brief Description of how superheroine gets powers:  Tiffany is working late at The Corporation; a new job after a short spell of unemployment.  Wondering around the building, unchallenged, she spies something glowing in a darkened room and takes a closer look. Mesmerised by its purity and beauty, she touches the glowing rock. Unable to let go, power surges through her as she absorbs the star’s energy causing her hair to glow, her eyes to burn through materials. She is in complete control of her power apart from the glowing hair.

Powers: Bright violet eyes that can burn through any material at will. Blonde streaks in her hair that glow. The ability to take someone’s soul/essence with a touch from her right hand when she wills it, speed and strength that grows with every soul she takes.


Anything important:  ‘Dark Star’ chosen as her superheroine name because she has bright streaks and eyes, like a star, but her heart is dark due to the murder of her parents by unknown persons. She finds she has the power to absorb people’s essence, absorbing their life which makes her always youthful and stronger. Dark Star tends to weigh up the crime, the person and takes justice as she sees it. Seen as a vigilante by the authorities, she is a wanted criminal, loved and loathed in equal measures by the public. She will not harm the innocent but trusts no one with her secret. Her life is just as solitary as a superheroine as it is as Tiffany Saxon. She took the star/rock which she has hidden in the abandoned house that once belonged to her parents’ which means she has created an enemy in The Corporation where she stole the star from as they search and try to capture/kill her, not knowing that as Tiffany Saxon she works for them.   

  The Dawn of Dark Star

The first thing Tiffany did when she awoke was look around her room and there it was; her costume lying creased on the floor. It hadn't been a dream. She really had given chase to an armed man as he fled the supermarket, with a hostage, to his waiting car after shooting three people dead. She really had run after the car, not stopping for a second to take a breath as her strides took her closer to the car. She really had fixated her stare onto the rear tyres of the car, melting them causing the car to momentarily lose control before the man, still dragging his hostage, and his driver bailed, running off in different directions. 

Deciding to go after the man from the supermarket, Dark Star ignored the angry car drivers caught in the traffic jam by the abandoned car.  But she couldn’t ignore the man as he fired his gun directly at her, hitting her with such force; she was catapulted backwards, sliding across the road on her back before laying still.

 A crowd gathered around her, staring down, not sure whether to phone for help, aid her or just stop and stare. There was no blood oozing from the tiny tare in her suit, causing bewilderment from the crowd.  After a few moments, Dark Star opened her eyes and dragged herself up, a little winded but otherwise unharmed and able to take up the chase. A smile spread across her face as she heard a solitary cheer from behind her before others joined in, spurring her on as she entered the abandoned factory.

 Another gunshot whizzed past her ear. But Dark Star, full of determination, marched forwards fuelled on adrenalin and the distant sound of the crowd cheering her on. She would not let them down.

“Stay back or I’ll kill him!” The gunman waved his gun carelessly as he dragged the man to his feet; blood pouring from his temple as he could barely stand. Without a word, Dark Star concentrated on the gun, her gaze unfaltering. Within seconds, the man dropped the hot gun, blisters forming on his skin. “What are you!” he spat as he backed away, still a hold around the neck of the semi conscious man. Beads of sweat formed on the gunman’s brow as he fumbled in his jacket and pulled out a knife. The point jabbed in the hostage’s neck; a warning for Dark Star to back away but she didn’t. 

  The knife was no match for her as she lunged for him, grabbing him by the neck. The hostage fell as Dark Star pinned the gunman to the wall. She didn’t let go as a new energy charged through her body, surging down to her toes and every finger tip. With a gasp, Dark Star’s grip released. The man withered, hollow eyes staring into eternal darkness.    

An ambulance crew came up as did armed police and Dark Star had no choice but to flee.

The morning news was full of stories of Dark Star, not all of them good, as Tiffany watched. As Dark Star she was now wanted by the police for murder. She knew something had happened to the gunman but hadn't meant it; her powers were still new to her. The public liked the idea that there was someone out there looking out for them and they protested against the police.

 The camera switched to the man in the hospital bed; the hostage. Although weak, his message was strong and clear; Dark Star was a heroine and saved his life. He would not rest until he thanked her personally, face to face; the girl with the violet eyes. Tiffany stared as she watched his bruised but still handsome face. She knew him, from The Corporation. 

 He was her boss.

 She wished it had all been a dream as that was much more preferable to the nightmare her life was becoming.   

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Becky Fyfe over at Imagine, Create, Write has set this rather awesome challenge; creating a female super! I have quite a few favourite male ones but can't decide on a female one so maybe the female supers out there need to up their game and not play second fiddle to the guys! Anyway, I'm sure there are amazing superhero stories over at Becky's blog, so hop over for a read and see how super the girls can really be. . . . capes optional. xxx 

Friday 28 June 2013

Flash! Friday #30 Capbreton, France





Running along the golden sands, the surf lapping at their ankles, Damon reached back, grabbing Ruth’s hand, pulling her along. Her chest was tight like a vice as her heart beat frantically, wanting to burst from its confines, her lungs burning with every laboured breath, matching the searing pain on the soles of her feet that even the ice cold water couldn’t sooth.

The ruins were in sight; their shelter and safety from their pursuers. Looking over her shoulder, Ruth saw the advancing shadow descending across the coast. It was stupid to go out scavenging so soon after the first attack on the settlement. But Damon was sure it was safe.

“This way!” he shouted, desperation in his usually composed voice, hearing the enemy approaching on the wind. They ran through the maze of ruins, graffiti from another age a reminder of human survival. With a single leap, Ruth and Damon were sheltered in a hole under one of the huge concrete blocks as fire reigned down and the thunderous roar of dragons shattered the air.  “That was a close one,” he quipped. “Best get comfortable Ruthie; it’s going to be a long night.”  Ruth nestled against Damon’s chest, his heartbeat soothing against the continued roar of the dragons.

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Flash! Friday hosted by Rebekah Postupak with an amazing picture of Capbreton on the coast of France. Click the link to visit the site and read all the stories based on the picture. You'll be surprised at what everyone comes up with. xx

Thursday 27 June 2013

Thursday Threads #76 I need one Alive




Princess Lilliana slouched on her throne as another suitor strode confidently through the great hall that was her prison, swearing allegiance to her pompous father before declaring his undying love for her. But Lilliana was dreaming of escape not marriage; flying away on the back of a dragon, travelling on the winds to new lands feeling free and alive.        

“Princess Lilliana, I will travel the ends of the earth, bring you precious stones, catch you a falling star and even slaughter a thousand dragons in your honour, to show my love for you,” the prince declared. "They don't call me the Dragon Slayer for nothing."

“You could show more interest Lilliana,” her father said sternly. “He is risking everything for you, fulfilling his destiny  . . . . And yours.”    

“But I don’t want a falling star or need jewels or a slaughtered dragon! I need . . . I need . . .”

“What do you need Lilliana. Please tell me, I will give you everything you will ever want or need my love,” the prince stated as he clutched her small, soft hand. A wry smile crept across Lilliana’s face.

“A dragon,” she exclaimed.

“I will bring you the fiercest dragon to walk the earth. He will be dragged through the streets with my sword plunged though his heart.”

“No! I need one alive. You will do this for me.”  The startled prince nodded, all enthusiasm evaporated as Lilliana’s heart soared just like the wings of her dragon.


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For more Thursday Thread stories, visit Siobhan Muir's blog;The Weird, the Wild and the Wicked. You will not be disappointed. xx


Monday 24 June 2013

The Self Proclaimed Disney Princess Turns to the Dark Side



You can be forgiven for thinking this little piece is about the newest Disney Princess, Princess Leia, turning all dark and Darth Vader on us.  I’m sure Disney has big plans for Leia and hopefully the lush Han Solo, kicking some Storm Trooper plastic butt. Until then, there’s me; a person who can write about gore and darkness but watching it????? No way! Never! Not in a gazillion years!  




 I am a Princess when it comes to the TV choices I make (Glee, Smash, Dallas, Horrible Histories, and Eastenders etc).  I like my world of fluffy bunnies, whiter than white TV full of smiles and cutsie animation, singing and dancing.  It’s cute. It’s fun. It’s adorable with romance and gorgeous men. OK, so I admit I am as deep as a puddle.

But something strange has happened.  After leaving the room with mega amounts of moaning and door slamming like a grounded teenager when teenage son was watching his TV, I found myself accidentally watching one evening, with great interest, a conversation in a TV programme a Disney Princess would avoid like sex before marriage.
The character was Rick and he was talking with a gangster. There was more humanity shown in that clip than in a speech by Bono. And I was hooked. Yes, I am now an avid watcher of The Walking Dead! And I love it!!!! 
  


It is not just about zombies (‘Walkers’ as they are imaginatively called). It goes much deeper than that. The complex relationships and emotions are raw and real. I can imagine (if I survived that long which I doubt) that I would be having these real moments of worrying about your kid, having a shower, looking after those who can’t look after themselves. In most zombie films, humanity is lost in a blaze of gun-ho, macho one liners (maybe not ‘Shawn of The Dead’) Here, you can see the fight to keep hold of their humanity when all around is a crazy, death ridden and lawless society.

Even the zombie munching isn’t that gory. Yes, OK,  being disembowelled was slightly gross. But it wasn’t hiding behind the cushion stuff but then when you have Daryl firing off his awesome cross bow; it’s very hard to pull yourself away and hide behind a cushion.  And that’s where the nail biting truly comes in. I really, really do not want any of my favourite characters to become zombie fodder. 

I beg of you! Please keep Daryl!!!!      


I am rather sad that one has bitten the dust because every group needs an antagonist; every leader needs that one guy who keeps putting the boot in, undermining and picking away, sowing so many seeds of mistrust. I wonder now who will Rick have?

On the other hand, there are characters I would love to see become a Walker’s feast as their annoyance level is on the Jar Jar Binks scale (Lori)! So I shall just have to wait and see.





And being a Self Proclaimed Disney Princess, I have the patience to do so.

PS. I have only seen season 1 and 2 and am waiting for season 3 returning  . . . eeek this weekend I believe. xx


Saturday 22 June 2013

Five Sentence Fiction Blades (Part 3 Zoe)

                                                            

I feel bleugh after missing my flash fiction pieces this week due to being up to my eyes in cake and fondant icing. But all that is behind me now; just the party tonight so a quick 5SF before donning the dancing shoes. This week's prompt is Blades and I have managed to link it to two previous 5SF:

  1. Accident
  2. Desolate 


Another sparse hotel room and another carefully unpacked suitcase revealed the purpose of Zoe’s latest assignment; to retrieve the flashdrive that she and her organisation had been waiting so impatiently for. Tipping out the contents of the manila envelope, as she waited for the bath to fill, Zoe glanced at the photograph of a rather handsome man before picking up the lipstick; removing the lid to reveal a small but lethal, razor-sharp blade causing a frown to etch across her forehead.

She didn’t like knives; knives meant getting up close, too close and they were far too messy for her liking . . . . . it was never a clean kill . . . . . . but on the other hand . . . . . . it was silent.

Placing the lid on the lipstick, Zoe stepped into the bath as she pondered the weapon choice and how close she would have to be to the man in the photograph, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing or hard; she was extremely good at her job after all.


The arduous journey was washed away by the soft soapy water as Zoe began to finally relax, sinking deeper into the bath until her face was completely submerged, blocking out the lipstick, handgun and flashdrive. . . if only the face in the photograph would disappear too. . .   



For more fantastic stories of only five sentences, please visit http://lilliemcferrin.com/, the home of Five Sentence Fiction. xxx
                                                             
 

Friday 14 June 2013

Flash!Friday #28 Eternal Flame


FlashFriday hosted by Rebekah Postupak over at flashfriday.wordpress.com/ has given us this gorgeous picture but only 100 words; exactly. . . . .  


Eternal Flame

Charlotte watched the flickering flame; gentle against the darkness as tiny droplets of wax ran slowly down the long stem. Edging closer, her finger caught a droplet as it solidified against her cool skin. Her breath sent the flame dancing; Charlotte backed away, terrified of the consequences.  As long as the candle burned, there was life. There was hope. Hope that someone would know where she was. Hope they could get to her in time. Hope the candle's flame would burn eternal. For once that candle died, she knew her last breath would follow. Her captor had told her so.


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Thursday 13 June 2013

Thursday Threads (week 74) Not Even A Little One




Little Voice

Taking a deep breath, I stepped over the threshold; the aroma of supple leather warming my soul as my fingers swept over each beautifully designed handbag. And with a huge discount for today only, my resolve was fast dissolving. It was silly to have walked in. But there was no harm in looking, so the little voice kept telling me. But where was the little voice now? With the bag in one hand and credit card in the other, I was at the till. All I needed was that little voice to tell me to put the bag back. I didn’t need it. It didn’t match any of my outfits which meant buying an outfit just to match the handbag I didn’t need. The cashier smiled. This was my last chance to change my mind. I waited for the little voice which was always so eager for me to spend. I strained my ears for the voice but not even a little one spoke to me as the cashier took the bag and gift wrapped it. There was still time to walk away but I stood motionless as my beautiful purchase was placed into a glossy bag. Without hesitation, I handed over my credit card. I felt accusing eyes on me, berating me for being so irresponsible. I couldn’t afford it but neither could I ignore it. I left the shop but not a smile did I wear as my name is Millie and I am a shopaholic.


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Thursday Threads with Siobhan Muir at The Weird, the Wild and the Wicked. Hop over for very good reads. Today's prompt: not even a little one. 


                         

Miranda says: As an over spender myself, I know that little voice well, and ignoring it is an artform! LOL I also liked the flow of this piece, clear and concise.



Friday 7 June 2013

Flash!Friday #27


                                                 
Flash!Friday hosted by Rebekah Postupak. This week, it's just 100 words, 5 words either side so I'm OK with my 101 word count. Hope you enjoy this fun piece. it made my Hubby laugh out loud so I must be on the right track . . . . .come and read and get your funny bone tickled. xxx  




Tom’s muscles burned with every sweeping motion of the oar as it pushed through the strong waters, the current pulling him back but he couldn’t let that happen. Trying to ignore the searing pain, Tom pressed on; harder as the sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision but he couldn’t wipe it away, couldn’t take his eyes off the goal that was now in reach. A quick glance over his right shoulder spurred him on; the French on his tail just as he crossed the finish line; the gold was his, in the barrel race, in the first Alternative Olympics.


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Thursday 6 June 2013

Thursday Threads (week 73) I will Feast On Your Blood.

                              


Thursday Threads hosted by Siobhan Muir over at The Weird, the Wild and the Wicked. This week, "I will feast on your blood".




Matthew awoke, feeling groggy, as he tried to remember.  The place was unfamiliar. Trying to rise from the bed, he realised he was strapped in.
 “I was beginning to think you were never going to awake,” a male voice said cheerily. “So what do you think?”  The man flashed a smile bearing white fangs that were so shiny they looked like plastic.
Matthew sighed heavily.
“You’re not scared?” the man asked as he stooped over Matthew, reeking of stale alcohol and cheap aftershave.
“Why would I be scared of you?” Matthew smiled, bearing his own fangs. “Now release me or I will feast on your blood before you can say vampire.”
“I’m sorry vampire, but it is I who will be doing all the feasting. It takes more than filing down teeth to become a vampire. I want the real deal. I know you won’t do it willingly so I am going to take.”  He held a long knife, examining it closely.
“It won’t work,” Matthew said calmly.
“You would say that!” With a swipe of the knife, a trail of rich vampire blood trickled from Mathew’s wrist into a goblet. “Cheers!”  Just as quickly, Matthew broke free, one hand grasped around the man’s throat, his fangs nearing the man’s neck.  The begging and the whimpering was ignored as Matthew plunged his fangs deep into the soft flesh and feasted well.


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