treydog: Inserting the human element into these stories is my primary goal. Writing about capes is boring. Writing about people is interesting. I was inspired by April Daniel's novels, and the more recent comics of Batgirl, Ms. Marvel (Kamala Khan), and the new series Unstoppable Wasp. All of them put the people first, the supering second. It made me realize that this was a genre that could be about more than just problem-solving and fist fights. Just as Fantasy can be about more than just barbarians with mighty thews weaving a glittering web of steel about their half-naked, pantherish frames.
Tbh, the urban decay is not so bad anymore in Detroit. The Packard Plant is right about to be re-developed. The same is happening to long abandoned places all around the city, like Eloise, the Northville Psychiatric Hospital, the Pontiac Silverdome, the Book-Cadillac Hotel, and so on. Detroit really has been turning around in the 2010's. But I kind of like to hold onto that old urban decay, as it injects a certain harsh character into the story. It reminds us that just as things rise, they all eventually fall as well. Sort of like the slave standing behind the successful Roman general during his triumph (the parade that is), whispering in his ear "Remember you are mortal."
One reason I like putting January together with Lighthammer is that it forces both of them to take a hard look at their actions, and what they want to be. They are so alike in many ways, it is easy to forget their differences sometimes. Then their very different philosophies butt heads, and each has to look at the other's and acknowledge that it exists, and either reject it, defend it, or perhaps even think about it.
Acadian: I understand that when Spider-Man first came out back in the 60s, the reason he became so insanely popular was that people could identify with him. He was picked on in school. He barely eked out a living. His everyday, mundane struggles in life were exactly the same as those of all the readers. The Sam Raimi films certainly underscored all this, which is why I like them. I definitely want to show that with January. She's taking the bus the same as thousands of other people.
The African-Goddess was a great way for me to show that combined dumbfoundedness, uncertainty, and awkwardness that I think we all go through, when we do not realize that another person likes us. In my own life, I tend to figure those things out about 12 hours later... Though once it took over a year.
Renee: I want an African Goddess next to me too!

We can all dream.
Struggling with secret identities is standard comic book fare. But it also makes sense in the world they live in. I like how it creates this artificial barrier between people who might be risking their lives on one another's behalf. Yet at the same time they cannot just go to a baseball game together or sit in a bar and have a couple of pints.
I would not say that Lighthammer is out of touch with people. Just with Detroit. He was an excellent foil for me to use to reveal some Detroit-centric info, without it coming across as an infodump.
Grits: Cthululemon: The Stars are Right for you to look good in our new summer fashions!
Sadly January has a lot of extra baggage when it comes to romance. Being a lesbian already adds one difficulty, then trans, and now she is a super with an identity to protect. When it rains it pours!
One thing about the urban decay and economic hard times Detroit has struggled through over the past 40 years is that it has driven out a lot of people. Those who remain, are either foolish to have done so, or too stubborn and stuck in their ways to move, too loyal to their roots, or just plain crazy. Probably a mix of all. It does create a unique character to this city though.
January does love to fly. Something I am sure Acadian can relate to. She is coming to discover that she never feels so free as when her feet are off the ground. There will be more of that later this chapter, when she gets some serous flight on.
The Laughing Man is an homage to Ghost In The ShellFour TwentyVictory Empulse TTYou can find Bloomfield Hills on the Stormcrow MapBloomfield HillsBook 2.2 - Stormcrow Recycled"What a piece of junk!" January stared at the heap of twisted machinery that had once been a motorcycle. "I can't buy this!"
Her heart plummeted like a balloon with no air. That was how she felt, as if all the air had been sucked out of her. She had been so certain that this was going to be her new car, well bike, or motor vehicle at least. It was going to be her freedom from constantly begging rides from Avery, or borrowing her mom's Mini Cooper, or taking the bus. This was going to be a whole new chapter in life. A chapter where she could go wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted. It was all going to start now.
Or not.
She and Avery stood in a garage larger than her family's house. All around her were cars and trucks that she could not even name. But the bright colors, spoilers, and racing stripes said a lot about them, and the man who owned them. It all reminded January of her brother, whose narcissism was only equaled by his obnoxiousness. She instantly disliked the man.
"It just needs a little work." The bike's owner clucked as he hobbled a few steps toward the motorcycle's remains. One of his legs was bound up in a synthetic cast, and he had to use a crutch to walk.
"A little work!" Avery exclaimed. "The engine is wrecked, and where's the battery?"
"Hazmat had to haul it away," the owner murmured. "It was leaking all over the place after the accident."
"It looks like an elephant stepped on it," January frowned. One side of the engine was crumpled into a shapeless mass. Whatever had hit it, or ran it over, had been substantial. The rest of the motorcycle seemed to be in one piece however. The tires still had air, the handlebars were still straight, and so forth.
"Just a little fender bender," the owner contended. "Nothing you can't fix. If you're as good as the Laughing Man said you were."
"Oh I'm better than that Ricky," Avery insisted. "But look at this. The whole engine is shot. I'll have to rip it out and start from scratch, plus buy a brand new battery. What did you do to this thing anyway?"
"I may allegedly have over-celebrated slightly on Four Twenty," Ricky said. "I had to put it down. It may have hit a fire hydrant…"
"May have?" January fumed. "This is a giant paperweight. Come on let's go."
"Now just wait a minute, you said you wanted a bike," Ricky insisted. "I have a bike."
"The work I would have to do…" Avery rubbed the back of his head in thought. "We'll give you five hundred for it."
"Five hundred!" Ricky exclaimed. "This is a Victory Empulse TT! Sure it's a few years old, but I paid 20k for this thing!"
"It might have been worth that three years ago," Avery said coolly, "but not today. It's a pair of wheels and front forks. Five hundred, and I'll take it off your hands. Otherwise call the junkyard. That's all its good for."
"That's not even one hour of my lawyer's time!" Ricky fumed. He ran a thin and shaking hand through his straggly mane. "Fine, take it, it's yours. Let me get the title."
The thin man hobbled over a full size tool cabinet that was far too clean and gleaming to have ever been used. He fumbled with the lock, giving January time to turn to Avery.
"Are you crazy?" she was careful to keep her voice down, so Ricky could not overhear. "Do you know how long it took me to save that money?"
"Don't worry," Avery smiled. "All the stuff that's broken, I was going to replace anyway. I've been working on it for the last week. Now you'll have money left over for a helmet."
"I'm bidding on two on Ebuy right now." January bit her lip. "Are you sure about this?"
"Have I ever let you down?" Avery said confidently. "This bike is perfect. And this Gucci biker wannabe is right, it is worth twenty grand."
"If you say so," January was torn. On one hand, she really wanted something to drive. She
needed something. She had no doubt that Avery could work miracles with tech. But every time she looked at the mangled wreck of a motorcycle her enthusiasm vanished into a lightless void of Lovecraftian doom. Still, she did trust Avery. So she reached into her purse, pulled out her envelope of money, and counted out five $100 bills. She imagined that this would be the last time she would see Ben Franklin's face for a long while.
Ricky fished out the title and brought it over. January looked over his signature to make sure it matched the name. She did not expect someone living in Bloomfield Hills to con her. But you never knew. There was no lien. This guy had probably paid the entire twenty thousand in cash when he bought it. She wondered if she should really check the odometer and compare the VIN. But she decided that was overdoing it. It was not like the Secretary of State was going to do that when they went there next.
She handed over the money with a feeling of finality. It reminded her of how it had felt when she handed Emilia Mercado that bag filled with diamonds. This was far less valuable. But she had worked long and hard for this money. She had earned it. She hated the idea that she might be wasting it.
"Good thing you brought a van." Ricky nodded to the beat up Ford that Avery had borrowed from his uncle Jerome. "I think I have some ramps over here somewhere..."
He shambled off, and while his back was turned January handed her purse to Avery. Then she picked up the motorcycle with one hand and tucked it under her armpit. She stepped lightly to the Ford, opened the back doors with her free hand, and hopped inside. She gently laid the bike down to avoid scratching the bare metal floor. She climbed back out just in time to see Ricky shamble back into view with a metal ramp clutched in his free hand.
"All set," Avery smiled, "pleasure doing business with ya."
Ricky was still gaping, dumbfounded, as they drove off.
A visit to the insurance company followed, and then the Secretary of State. The latter went quickly, as Avery had reserved an appointment. Whether that had been legit, or if he had just hacked their system, January neither knew nor asked. By the time they returned to his house January felt exhausted. She had never spent so much money in her life. It was very... deflating.