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(Note - handful_ofdust has posted a much better (and longer, and professional) piece of her writing, over here.)
I'm not sure if I'm qualified to participate in this - the one thing I've published (semi) professionally already appeared in this LJ first. However, because I should get cracking soon on a Supervillain sequel (as well as talk to kelpqueen about Episode II), here's a little bit of work-in progress:
Victor was cutting pvc pipe. He’d had the idea to prep some hideaways he could place in different overlooked spaces around Gradient; with their front doors glammed invisible, he’d have some handy rabbit holes to disappear down when the occasion called.
He’d built three ‘drinking straws’ as he called them in his mind – 80-inch lengths of 18-inch PVC sewer pipe, each blocked at one end with a hinged plywood door at the other. He could fit in comfortably enough (claustrophobia had never been one of his vulnerabilities) but there was no room to turn around, so the usual cache of supplies (food packs, duct tape, cel phone etc) was on the inside of the front door. There were a couple of stick-up lights, one near the front and one at the far end he could turn on and off by kicking its plastic shell. After thinking the matter through he’d decided individual, battery-powered fixtures were the way to go – not only would they save him the trouble of wiring, but if one went out the others would still be in working order. There was an air vent with a miniature fan, too. The vent and door could both be sealed in case of airborne attack, but it occurred to him the refuge would in that case be very temporary. After weighing the odds he decided to make room for an oxygen mask and small tank on the door.
With the drinking straws finished, Victor was now at work on two ‘capsule hotels.’ These were positively luxurious by comparison – made from 42-inch pipe, they had room for him to sit up, and he’d lined them with foam rubber padding. The lower half of each model had an additional layer cut from picnic-table cloth, vinyl side down and fabric backing side up, slung from Velcro strips that ran along the sides of the capsule. The layer could thus be easily changed if he bled on it. There were two battery-powered lamps along each side just above the Velcro, and shelves at the far end behind a neat circular door he’d based on the lid of a container of powdered parmesan cheese. A pillow with a hard flat underside could be turned over for a desk surface. He was still trying to figure out some reasonably dignified toilet facilities, even though the capsules were designed for himself alone and Not Being Seen was their whole purpose. Seeing Others, if they got too close, was accomplished by an unobtrusive webcam above the door – the capsule supplies included electronics, along with clean clothes, fake IDs, and in case of real emergencies, a tracker so Amanda could find him if he needed her to. He had her home and superhero numbers programmed into all his phones, along with his most important contacts – all of course, were under private nicknames known only to himself. Amanda’s was ‘Rinkydink,’ because nothing could be less like her.
The Five had a budget and Amanda’s new costume was good, a custom catsuit, probably knitted Kevlar, and thigh-high combat boots with a sleek F5 monogram on her right shoulder; the harness of webbing around her shapely torso was a bit odd, but attractive. It also helped draw attention away from the outline of the bulletproof corset beneath the stretchy material.
I'm not sure if I'm qualified to participate in this - the one thing I've published (semi) professionally already appeared in this LJ first. However, because I should get cracking soon on a Supervillain sequel (as well as talk to kelpqueen about Episode II), here's a little bit of work-in progress:
Victor was cutting pvc pipe. He’d had the idea to prep some hideaways he could place in different overlooked spaces around Gradient; with their front doors glammed invisible, he’d have some handy rabbit holes to disappear down when the occasion called.
He’d built three ‘drinking straws’ as he called them in his mind – 80-inch lengths of 18-inch PVC sewer pipe, each blocked at one end with a hinged plywood door at the other. He could fit in comfortably enough (claustrophobia had never been one of his vulnerabilities) but there was no room to turn around, so the usual cache of supplies (food packs, duct tape, cel phone etc) was on the inside of the front door. There were a couple of stick-up lights, one near the front and one at the far end he could turn on and off by kicking its plastic shell. After thinking the matter through he’d decided individual, battery-powered fixtures were the way to go – not only would they save him the trouble of wiring, but if one went out the others would still be in working order. There was an air vent with a miniature fan, too. The vent and door could both be sealed in case of airborne attack, but it occurred to him the refuge would in that case be very temporary. After weighing the odds he decided to make room for an oxygen mask and small tank on the door.
With the drinking straws finished, Victor was now at work on two ‘capsule hotels.’ These were positively luxurious by comparison – made from 42-inch pipe, they had room for him to sit up, and he’d lined them with foam rubber padding. The lower half of each model had an additional layer cut from picnic-table cloth, vinyl side down and fabric backing side up, slung from Velcro strips that ran along the sides of the capsule. The layer could thus be easily changed if he bled on it. There were two battery-powered lamps along each side just above the Velcro, and shelves at the far end behind a neat circular door he’d based on the lid of a container of powdered parmesan cheese. A pillow with a hard flat underside could be turned over for a desk surface. He was still trying to figure out some reasonably dignified toilet facilities, even though the capsules were designed for himself alone and Not Being Seen was their whole purpose. Seeing Others, if they got too close, was accomplished by an unobtrusive webcam above the door – the capsule supplies included electronics, along with clean clothes, fake IDs, and in case of real emergencies, a tracker so Amanda could find him if he needed her to. He had her home and superhero numbers programmed into all his phones, along with his most important contacts – all of course, were under private nicknames known only to himself. Amanda’s was ‘Rinkydink,’ because nothing could be less like her.
The Five had a budget and Amanda’s new costume was good, a custom catsuit, probably knitted Kevlar, and thigh-high combat boots with a sleek F5 monogram on her right shoulder; the harness of webbing around her shapely torso was a bit odd, but attractive. It also helped draw attention away from the outline of the bulletproof corset beneath the stretchy material.
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But This is Perfectly Professional!
Date: 2007-04-24 01:11 pm (UTC)From:Thanks for the link, and for this. Good luck dealing with those pixel stains.
Re: But This is Perfectly Professional!
Date: 2007-04-25 12:44 am (UTC)From:Re: But This is Perfectly Professional!
Date: 2007-04-25 12:45 am (UTC)From:Sandra and I are trying to put together Episode II for the Small Press Book Fair.