I want superpowers, as long as it doesn’t require the murder of my parents or loved ones, or result in supervillains constantly trying to murder me. Powers would be fun, though, wouldn’t they?
(I’m talking about in the fictional world where they’d actually work, so don’t be raining on my parade with physics or logic.)
I’d like to be able to fly. Or be telekinetic. Or control the weather… Though I’d be content with finding the usefulness of something small. What superpowers would you want?
When I’m writing, I like to come up with strange powers, or create limitations that make the character’s life difficult. Because conflict is interesting.
* * * *
Seth fidgeted, leaning against the lobby wall. After a few minutes of sitting, he’d gotten up to pace. The secretary had ignored him after he’d signed in, but on his third circuit she’d glared at him until he stopped.
“You the new guy?” A tall, fit woman wearing mirrored sunglasses asked, walking up to him.
He nodded, and hesitantly held out his hand. Most people stared at his dark, pointed nails or the curled horns poking out of his hair. She didn’t hesitate, giving him a firm and friendly handshake. “I’m Lacey. Call me Ace. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the team.”
They walked down the tile corridor, up a few floors on the elevator, down another carpeted hallway, and into a large office.
Ace stomped a foot on the floor, making the walls and everything within the room rattle. “Listen up!”
The room, which had been buzzing with conversation, fell quiet. Everyone turned to look at them.
“Hey, everyone, this is the new guy, Seth. New guy, this is Steel,” Ace waved at a muscular man with a metallic tinge to his skin.
“Over there,” she waved at a winged man standing near a window, “Is Darkshadow, also known as Bobby.”
“Ignore her. It’s Rob. Ace is the only one calls me that,” the winged man glared at her.
“Because you can’t catch her,” another man, who looked human-normal, said.
“That’s Julio–Macroshock. And this is Dani–Babel,” Ace finished, nodding to the final person in the room.
“Babel?” Seth asked the blond woman, who had less muscle than Ace, but still carried herself like someone who could handle herself in a fight.
“I can understand any spoken language,” Babel said.
“That’s amazing,” Seth said.
“No more than being able to change your weight, or create electricity, or fly,” Babel said. “Besides, I can’t speak the languages–or read them.”
“Oh,” Seth shifted his feet, feeling himself flush.
“I’m messing with you,” Babel laughed. “It’s not so bad. I speak seven languages, working on number eight. So what do you call yourself?”
“I haven’t decided yet. People call me the obvious, but I don’t want to go by Devil,” Seth said.
Ace laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to, either. We’ll think of something.”
“We should call him Diabolito. Or Angel!” Julio said.
“Everyone but Julio will think of something,” Ace corrected.