I. In Which a Zipper Sets the Plot in Motion
The Shadow darted down the deserted length of O’Brein Street, his movements as graceful as a very tall, two-legged cat’s against the city’s cracking walls and rough streets.
That is to say, not graceful at all.
He slithered along the gutters, slid down the roofs, and skirted the wide cones of light flowing orange from the street lamps. He darted from alcove to alcove before any resident might perceive a less than savory character in a rather tight black outfit was sneaking about their house. Today was a heady day for the Shadow. He felt light and quick and graceful, and just generally like a proper assassin ought to feel.
That was, until a too-slow foot decided it wanted to be independent and got itself caught in the narrow gutter of one house. He tumbled from the roof and ended up in the rhododendron bushes.
The Shadow grimaced as the sticks cracked under his weight. Poor, poor rhododendron bushes… sorry, little guys. Nevertheless, he stood again, examining his skinned knee with a wince. He straightened himself out and made an effort to reassert some dignity, as if an invisible crowd were watching him from the corners and giggling behind their hypothetical hands. He cleared his throat and continued down the length of the street, hobbling now.
From an alleyway, a pair of blue eyes followed him.
These eyes were attached to a face, of course, and the face to a head and the head to a neck and the neck to the general structure of the human body. Well, mostly human.
The woman in the alley was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, and clutched a briefcase in her right hand. At the moment, she was chewing her lip as her eyes—still firmly attached to her face—observed the Shadow.
A suspicious character, to be sure. Never mind that he couldn’t appear to stay on his own two feet for more than three minutes, nobody dressed in black, tight-fitting clothing who was running around at night avoiding the street lamps could be up to any good. Well, unless he was in a punk rock band, but she didn’t exactly see a guitar (Or, for that matter, a drum set, clarinet, or kazoo). As a general rule, they were a dangerous sort.
Marie liked to think herself an expert on the sorts of people who were up to no good.
She just itched to fly after him, but she knew that was a silly idea. She’d be too easily recognized, and then there would be news helicopters and news anchors and a terrible amount of other news-related things, none of which were particularly inviting to her under the current state of affairs. In retrospect, it hadn’t been a good idea to become famous in both of her double lives.
Instead, she quietly, oh so quietly, subtly, oh so subtly, inched out from the alleyway and gave the streets a surreptitious once-over. There didn’t seem to be many people around… she put one high heeled foot out of the alley, then the other. No flood of paparazzi moved in to engulf her, and nobody pointed and identified her, as if their mother had never taught them that it was rude to point, so Marie turned her attention to the Shadow, who now appeared to be deciding whether he should continue down the street or pet the stray cat who had wondered into his path.
… Hey, the clothes were very dangerous. The clothes say it all.
Marie tossed her hair back and began to stride down the street, trying to cultivate the impression that it was, in fact, her street, and she had every reason to be there in the wee hours of the morning, and she was most certainly not stalking a man in tight pants.
She was also scanning the street as she passed. This would, frankly, be a whole lot easier if she could just… oh, she so wanted to fly after him. But first… she couldn’t do it as she was now. There had to be someplace around here for her to change.
The alleys were a definite no—it wasn’t like she just wore the outfit under her suit. How miserable would that be? And in this weather, in the middle of July… besides, it would probably make her blouse look wrinkled, a situation that she was sure she could not accept. This was an older part of town, and she passed some clear prisms as she hurried along, but Marie Susan Fry had class. She just didn’t do telephone booths.
Up ahead, the Shadow was beginning to suspect that he was indeed being followed, and this idea didn’t sit well with him. After all, he was going to be meeting with his supreme evil overlord in a few moments, and there was no way he was going to let some common random mugger or, worse, some curious member of the idiot bourgeoisie, follow him into this encounter with the world’s destiny. The Shadow was just that kind of man—in short, the kind of man who knew that the world’s destiny did not favor tagalongs.
A bird twittered and flew up above his head, and the Shadow paused to watch it. He couldn’t help himself, really. It was just so pretty, shiny wings glistening in the light of the street lamps.
He wondered what on earth a pigeon was doing up at this hour besides providing him with a short snappy paragraph of character development. When he whirled around behind him, he had lost sight of his pursuer.
Maybe there hadn’t been one, he acknowledged. I mean, he had to face it—his night vision was not an incredible thing and nor was his hearing—eight years of gymnastics was pretty much all that separated the Shadow from being demoted to random innocent bystander.
He continued on his way.
Marie took a deep breath as the Shadow strode away from her, hiding herself in a corner behind an apartment building. Out in front of it, she glimpsed her goal—a neat line of day-glo orange potable toilets.
It was far from a glorious idea, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made, and besides, the whole point of the maneuver was that you weren’t supposed to be seen. It made sense to find somewhere unobtrusive.
Marie sidled along the street and darted into the small orange cubicle. She glanced around before she opened the door—it really would not do for anyone to see Marie Susan Fry go in to the place and someone entirely different step out.
The smell of the cubicle was of course, not pleasant, but Marie had experienced worse. She snapped open her briefcase and removed the outfit from it.
It was pink and white and blue and well cut to show off her figure, but there was still an amateur-ish quality to it, as it had been the first thing she’d ever designed. She rummaged around beneath it for the boots—they were tall and shiny and impractical, but that had never bothered Marie. You needed the boots to prove you were a legitimate sort of heroine and not just an idiot in a costume, however fabulous said costume may be. She pulled out the cape— pink, sequined, awkward, and highly uncomfortable, but people expected it. The most important part of this whole business was to be what people expected from you. That way they didn’t freak out when you started dropping criminals off at the mayor’s office.
The last part was the most important, though. The sunglasses. Sunglasses were key to keeping her identity from being discovered. After all, not a lot of women in Ciudad City had her flowing golden hair (or her spectacular sense of fashion, she mentally added, or her glorious figure), but everyone knew that Marie Susan Fry didn’t wear sunglasses. They were enough to fend off even the cleverest of detectives.
Marie struggled out of her suit. She’d really gone all out today dressing for that interview, which, in retrospect, hadn’t been such a great idea.
“I’m back here, blockhead.”
Marie jumped at the sound of the voice, but there was, of course, no one in the cubicle with her. She took a shaky breath and resumed getting ready. This really wasn’t worth it, some days. Flight, super strength, laser vision, and yet she still had to slink into some place to hide just so she could get into costume.
“I am here, evil overlord.”
Marie tensed. Clutching her blouse closed, she edged over to the door and prodded it open, just a crack.
The Shadow! He stood only a few feet from the cubicle, looking somewhat sheepish. The figure opposite him was likely the owner of the first voice, but he or she was wreathed in convenient gloom.
A gathering of two evildoers! Marie grinned. Her hunch had been right, that counted for something. She started to dress more quickly now—if only she could apprehend their evil plan!
As if he or she had heard her thought process, the voice said, “How are things proceeding, Shadow? With our evil plan?”
Marie could hear the Shadow shuffle his feet. “Uhm… well, that really depends. Which plan, you evilness? The one with the bank? Or the park?”
“That’s—”
“Or the grocery store?” the Shadow continued nervously, “or the post office? Or Harry Oswald’s Oddly Specific Emporium of Laundry Detergent, Green Pens, and Slightly Scratched Brady Bunch DVDs? Or—”
“That’s enough!” The voice snapped. “You bumbling fool!”
“Y-yes, your vileness. With all due respect, your vileness, your ‘angry insults’ voice is coming around quite nicely.”
“What can I say,” the voice replied. “All that money for evil voice coaching really pays off.”
Marie slipped the skirt over her hips.
“In any case, I’m not talking about any of those. I’m talking about the Plan. Can’t you hear the capital p?”
“Of course, O Ace of Cruelty. Your ‘pronouncing capital letters’ voice is also well developed.”
Marie reached behind her, but the zipper wouldn’t budge.
“That’s it, then. The big one. The final.”
“O-of course,” the Shadow stammered.
“Of course what?” asked the voice sweetly.
“O-of course, Most Great and Terrible One. My apologies, Most Great and Terrible One. Perhaps if we did not talk so quickly, I could think of more titles.”
“I do not have to wait for your thought process, Shadow,” the voice said.
It really was a stuck zipper. It just… wouldn’t... go… up… any… further.
“In any case, how is it proceeding, Shadow?”
“Oh, quite well, Mistress, quite well. I think most of the pieces have fallen into place. I mean, I’ve spoken to—”
“Ah ah ah ah! No specifics. How many times do I have to tell you that, Shadow?
Anybody could be listening in.”
“If you’ll pardon the question, O Most Unholy One, why can’t we do this somewhere else, then? A nice loud café, a crowded park…”
“Don’t be foolish. Those sorts of places just aren’t evil enough. Just because a restaurant’s good enough for the Mafia doesn’t mean it can be good enough for a supreme being like me. Besides, I need the shadows here. For concealment. Can you imagine if I revealed my face now? How dramatically inappropriate would that be?”
Come on, come on… Marie’s shoulders couldn’t have broadened this much since she last put on the costume, it had only been Wednesday…
“Ah. Of course, Thou Most Abominable. Clearly you are a genius. I had not even thought of such requirements.”
“That is why I am giving the orders. In any case, I trust things are proceeding as per the schedule?”
“Oh, yes, your evilness. Right on schedule indeed. It will happen tomorrow.”
“Brilliant. The world will soon know just how powerful I can be, just how evil!”
“Of course, My Horrid Employer”
There was a bang and a puff of smoke, and the figure in the shadows vanished.
The Shadow darted away as well, feet echoing on the asphalt as he ran. He didn’t really like working with this employer… as far as he was concerned, this was one foul being who set a little too much store in… well, evil. Shadow was the sort of villain who would prefer to save the world over destroying it, he was just unique about getting the saving done. But hey, his skill set was pretty limited, and it was difficult to find good evil employment in this economy.
From within the cubicle, Marie Susan Fry’s hand finally pulled her zipper all the way up.
Well, she was a bit late, but, she acknowledged, that might just be for the best. In any case, now was a great time to do patrols—she was, after all, dressed for the part.
She threw her cape around her shoulders and stretched out her arms, tossing her hair. Last of all, she tucked the sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose.
The briefcase was going to be awkward, she thought, as she stowed her suit and blouse into it. Perhaps she should deliver it back to the Layer, surely Jennn would hold it for her… no, Jennn was out with friends. Phoebe, though… Phoebe’s work hours had ended awhile ago, but she was probably still there, filing all those damage claims. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.
Marie Susan Fry had stepped into the cubicle, and now, amid the starry nighttime sky, the Titanium Maiden stepped out.
Good lighting, quiet streets, not a cloud in the sky—tonight was a lovely night to be a superheroine.
------
[A/N] Well, this is where it starts. XD I wasn't sure what category to place this under, so I thought this might be the best one. So, without further ado, my JulNoWriMo novel.
As I really hope people are able to tell, TTwT is basically a parody superhero story... XD So it's supposed to be a bit silly. That's why I'm posting this on YWS, mostly-- to find out if I'm actually being even a little funny or not. XD
I'm not quite sure if this should be some manner of prologue, actually, instead of a chapter one-- after all, as far as has been written, this is the only chapter not from the main character's point of view. *shrug* In any case, I think I'll post maybe chapters two and three, as well, to give more of a feel of what the story's like under Phoebe's narration, but I'll probably not be putting up the whole story-- I've got a srs bsnss fantasy trilogy to focus on, after all.
In any case, go ahead and rip this apart, thanks very much to everyone who stops by to review! I'll repay anyone who does with a review right back. ^_^
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125,024 Literary Works • 672,762 Reviews
The Shadow darted down the deserted length of O’Brein Street, his movements as graceful as a very tall, two-legged cat’s against the city’s cracking walls and rough streets.
That is to say, not graceful at all.
He slithered along the gutters, slid down the roofs, and skirted the wide cones of light flowing orange from the street lamps. He darted from alcove to alcove before any resident might perceive a less than savory character in a rather tight black outfit was sneaking about their house. Today was a heady day for the Shadow. He felt light and quick and graceful, and just generally like a proper assassin ought to feel.
#FF8000 ">I’m a little confused here, you made it seem like he was graceful, then told us he wasn’t graceful, then said the guy felt graceful, it’s kind of throwing me off.
That was, until a too-slow foot decided it wanted to be independent and got itself caught in the narrow gutter of one house. He tumbled from the roof and ended up in the rhododendron bushes.
The Shadow grimaced as the sticks cracked under his weight. Poor, poor rhododendron bushes… sorry, little guys. Nevertheless, he stood again, examining his skinned knee with a wince. He straightened himself out and made an effort to reassert some dignity, as if an invisible crowd were watching him from the corners and giggling behind their hypothetical hands. He cleared his throat and continued down the length of the street, hobbling now.
#FF8000 ">This I thought was actually quite funny.
From an alleyway, a pair of blue eyes followed him.
These eyes were attached to a face, of course, and the face to a head and the head to a neck and the neck to the general structure of the human body. Well, mostly human.
#FF8000 ">This was cool. I’m really interested after reading this!
The woman in the alley was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, and clutched a briefcase in her right hand. At the moment, she was chewing her lip as her eyes—still firmly attached to her face—observed the Shadow.
#FF8000 ">
Leave out ‘At the moment’.
A suspicious character, to be sure. Never mind that he couldn’t appear to stay on his own two feet for more than three minutes, nobody dressed in black, tight-fitting clothing who was running around at night avoiding the street lamps could be up to any good. Well, unless he was in a punk rock band, but she didn’t exactly see a guitar (Or, for that matter, a drum set, clarinet, or kazoo). As a general rule, they were a dangerous sort.
#FF8000 ">Instead of saying ‘they were a dangerous sort’ you could say ‘men of these sorts were dangerous’. Just a suggestion.
Marie liked to think herself an expert on the sorts of people who were up to no good.
#FF8000 ">I like the personality here.
She just itched to fly after him, but she knew that was a silly idea. She’d be too easily recognized, and then there would be news helicopters and news anchors and a terrible amount of other news-related things, none of which were particularly inviting to her under the current state of affairs. In retrospect, it hadn’t been a good idea to become famous in both of her double lives.
Instead, she quietly, oh so quietly, subtly, oh so subtly, inched out from the alleyway and gave the streets a surreptitious once-over. There didn’t seem to be many people around… she put one high heeled foot out of the alley, then the other. No flood of paparazzi moved in to engulf her, and nobody pointed and identified her, as if their mother had never taught them that it was rude to point, so Marie turned her attention to the Shadow, who now appeared to be deciding whether he should continue down the street or pet the stray cat who had wondered into his path.
#FF8000 ">
I’m not sure if I like the first line of this paragraph. It sounds just a bit cheesy to me.
Wondered should be wandered.… Hey, the clothes were very dangerous. The clothes say it all.
Marie tossed her hair back and began to stride down the street, trying to cultivate the impression that it was, in fact, her street, and she had every reason to be there in the wee hours of the morning, and she was most certainly not stalking a man in tight pants.
#FF8000 ">Maybe describe her hair as she tosses it? Give us color or texture or something.
She was also scanning the street as she passed. This would, frankly, be a whole lot easier if she could just… oh, she so wanted to fly after him. But first… she couldn’t do it as she was now. There had to be someplace around here for her to change.
The alleys were a definite no—it wasn’t like she just wore the outfit under her suit. How miserable would that be? And in this weather, in the middle of July… besides, it would probably make her blouse look wrinkled, a situation that she was sure she could not accept. This was an older part of town, and she passed some clear prisms as she hurried along, but Marie Susan Fry had class. She just didn’t do telephone booths.
Up ahead, the Shadow was beginning to suspect that he was indeed being followed, and this idea didn’t sit well with him. After all, he was going to be meeting with his supreme evil overlord in a few moments, and there was no way he was going to let some common random mugger or, worse, some curious member of the idiot bourgeoisie, follow him into this encounter with the world’s destiny. The Shadow was just that kind of man—in short, the kind of man who knew that the world’s destiny did not favor tagalongs.
A bird twittered and flew up above his head, and the Shadow paused to watch it. He couldn’t help himself, really. It was just so pretty, shiny wings glistening in the light of the street lamps.
#FF8000 ">
The last sentence should sound more like - it was just so pretty with its shiny wings glistening in the light of the street lamps. Or - it was just so pretty; wings glistening in the light of the street lamps.
He wondered what on earth a pigeon was doing up at this hour besides providing him with a short snappy paragraph of character development. When he whirled around behind him, he had lost sight of his pursuer.
Maybe there hadn’t been one, he acknowledged. I mean, he had to face it—his night vision was not an incredible thing and nor was his hearing—eight years of gymnastics was pretty much all that separated the Shadow from being demoted to random innocent bystander.
He continued on his way.
Marie took a deep breath as the Shadow strode away from her, hiding herself in a corner behind an apartment building. Out in front of it, she glimpsed her goal—a neat line of day-glo orange potable toilets.
#FF8000 ">Did you mean portable?
It was far from a glorious idea, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made, and besides, the whole point of the maneuver was that you weren’t supposed to be seen. It made sense to find somewhere unobtrusive.
Marie sidled along the street and darted into the small orange cubicle. She glanced around before she opened the door—it really would not do for anyone to see Marie Susan Fry go in to the place and someone entirely different step out.
The smell of the cubicle was of course, not pleasant, but Marie had experienced worse. She snapped open her briefcase and removed the outfit from it.
It was pink and white and blue and well cut to show off her figure, but there was still an amateur-ish quality to it, as it had been the first thing she’d ever designed. She rummaged around beneath it for the boots—they were tall and shiny and impractical, but that had never bothered Marie. You needed the boots to prove you were a legitimate sort of heroine and not just an idiot in a costume, however fabulous said costume may be. She pulled out the cape— pink, sequined, awkward, and highly uncomfortable, but people expected it. The most important part of this whole business was to be what people expected from you. That way they didn’t freak out when you started dropping criminals off at the mayor’s office.
#FF8000 ">
Interesting outfit.
The last part was the most important, though. The sunglasses. Sunglasses were key to keeping her identity from being discovered. After all, not a lot of women in Ciudad City had her flowing golden hair (or her spectacular sense of fashion, she mentally added, or her glorious figure), but everyone knew that Marie Susan Fry didn’t wear sunglasses. They were enough to fend off even the cleverest of detectives.
#FF8000 ">
I thought this was pretty funny, too.
Marie struggled out of her suit. She’d really gone all out today dressing for that interview, which, in retrospect, hadn’t been such a great idea.
“I’m back here, blockhead.”
Marie jumped at the sound of the voice, but there was, of course, no one in the cubicle with her. She took a shaky breath and resumed getting ready. This really wasn’t worth it, some days. Flight, super strength, laser vision, and yet she still had to slink into some place to hide just so she could get into costume.
“I am here, evil overlord.”
Marie tensed. Clutching her blouse closed, she edged over to the door and prodded it open, just a crack.
The Shadow! He stood only a few feet from the cubicle, looking somewhat sheepish. The figure opposite him was likely the owner of the first voice, but he or she was wreathed in convenient gloom.
A gathering of two evildoers! Marie grinned. Her hunch had been right, that counted for something. She started to dress more quickly now—if only she could apprehend their evil plan!
As if he or she had heard her thought process, the voice said, “How are things proceeding, Shadow? With our evil plan?”
Marie could hear the Shadow shuffle his feet. “Uhm… well, that really depends. Which plan, you evilness? The one with the bank? Or the park?”
#FF8000 ">Your evilness.
“That’s—”
“Or the grocery store?” the Shadow continued nervously, “or the post office? Or Harry Oswald’s Oddly Specific Emporium of Laundry Detergent, Green Pens, and Slightly Scratched Brady Bunch DVDs? Or—”
“That’s enough!” The voice snapped. “You bumbling fool!”
#FF8000 ">hehe
“Y-yes, your vileness. With all due respect, your vileness, your ‘angry insults’ voice is coming around quite nicely.”
“What can I say,” the voice replied. “All that money for evil voice coaching really pays off.”
Marie slipped the skirt over her hips.
“In any case, I’m not talking about any of those. I’m talking about the Plan. Can’t you hear the capital p?”
“Of course, O Ace of Cruelty. Your ‘pronouncing capital letters’ voice is also well developed.”
Marie reached behind her, but the zipper wouldn’t budge.
“That’s it, then. The big one. The final.”
“O-of course,” the Shadow stammered.
“Of course what?” asked the voice sweetly.
“O-of course, Most Great and Terrible One. My apologies, Most Great and Terrible One. Perhaps if we did not talk so quickly, I could think of more titles.”
“I do not have to wait for your thought process, Shadow,” the voice said.
It really was a stuck zipper. It just… wouldn’t... go… up… any… further.
“In any case, how is it proceeding, Shadow?”
“Oh, quite well, Mistress, quite well. I think most of the pieces have fallen into place. I mean, I’ve spoken to—”
“Ah ah ah ah! No specifics. How many times do I have to tell you that, Shadow?
Anybody could be listening in.”
“If you’ll pardon the question, O Most Unholy One, why can’t we do this somewhere else, then? A nice loud café, a crowded park…”
“Don’t be foolish. Those sorts of places just aren’t evil enough. Just because a restaurant’s good enough for the Mafia doesn’t mean it can be good enough for a supreme being like me. Besides, I need the shadows here. For concealment. Can you imagine if I revealed my face now? How dramatically inappropriate would that be?”
Come on, come on… Marie’s shoulders couldn’t have broadened this much since she last put on the costume, it had only been Wednesday…
“Ah. Of course, Thou Most Abominable. Clearly you are a genius. I had not even thought of such requirements.”
“That is why I am giving the orders. In any case, I trust things are proceeding as per the schedule?”
“Oh, yes, your evilness. Right on schedule indeed. It will happen tomorrow.”
“Brilliant. The world will soon know just how powerful I can be, just how evil!”
“Of course, My Horrid Employer”
There was a bang and a puff of smoke, and the figure in the shadows vanished.
The Shadow darted away as well, feet echoing on the asphalt as he ran. He didn’t really like working with this employer… as far as he was concerned, this was one foul being who set a little too much store in… well, evil. Shadow was the sort of villain who would prefer to save the world over destroying it, he was just unique about getting the saving done. But hey, his skill set was pretty limited, and it was difficult to find good evil employment in this economy.
From within the cubicle, Marie Susan Fry’s hand finally pulled her zipper all the way up.
Well, she was a bit late, but, she acknowledged, that might just be for the best. In any case, now was a great time to do patrols—she was, after all, dressed for the part.
#FF8000 ">You don’t need a comma after but or acknowledged.
She threw her cape around her shoulders and stretched out her arms, tossing her hair. Last of all, she tucked the sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose.
#FF8000 ">I can imagine how silly she looks in a bright pink cape and sunglasses in the dead of night.
The briefcase was going to be awkward, she thought, as she stowed her suit and blouse into it. Perhaps she should deliver it back to the Layer, surely Jennn would hold it for her… no, Jennn was out with friends. Phoebe, though… Phoebe’s work hours had ended awhile ago, but she was probably still there, filing all those damage claims. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.
#FF8000 ">Do you mean Lair? Jennn should probably just have one or two ‘n’s. Unless you meant to have three.
Marie Susan Fry had stepped into the cubicle, and now, amid the starry nighttime sky, the Titanium Maiden stepped out.
Good lighting, quiet streets, not a cloud in the sky—tonight was a lovely night to be a superheroine.
------
[A/N] Well, this is where it starts. XD I wasn't sure what category to place this under, so I thought this might be the best one. So, without further ado, my JulNoWriMo novel.
As I really hope people are able to tell, TTwT is basically a parody superhero story... XD So it's supposed to be a bit silly. That's why I'm posting this on YWS, mostly-- to find out if I'm actually being even a little funny or not. XD
I'm not quite sure if this should be some manner of prologue, actually, instead of a chapter one-- after all, as far as has been written, this is the only chapter not from the main character's point of view. *shrug* In any case, I think I'll post maybe chapters two and three, as well, to give more of a feel of what the story's like under Phoebe's narration, but I'll probably not be putting up the whole story-- I've got a srs bsnss fantasy trilogy to focus on, after all.
In any case, go ahead and rip this apart, thanks very much to everyone who stops by to review! I'll repay anyone who does with a review right back. ^_^
"The world is not beautiful, therefore, it is." --Kino's Journey
#FF8000 ">Well honestly I thought this was hilarious. I love this kind of humor! You had just the right amount of description and you had a surprisingly good vocabulary, too! I would definitely read more of this if you had it.
I hope some of my comments were useful, let me know if I helped! Keep on writing!
Hey Zan. I thought I would review it later, when I have ample of time but then it turns out that I am free right now also so I came here. Although going by your piece, I really don't think I would be able to pass on much.
The first line is perfect, miss. Thi was so great.First I thought I would be helpless at providing the reviews but I think I did a decent job. So it was a well-written story.
I don' know if you would agree with me but this sentence was very big and you gave away so much of information in it that I felt a bit dizzy. You might wanna separate it by a semi-colon or comma, or might shorten it up a bit.
I liked how here you didn't exactly say that he's an assasin but still conveyed the message to us. Shubhi likes it!
Was it the Shadow's foot or someone else's. I know you want to create a mystery here in this chapter but don;t do so much of it that we feel confused and lost.
This is what the Shadow says so italicise it. You should always italicise the thoughts of the characters so that it looks classy and easier for the readers to comprehend.
Oh wow. I liked it so much. It's like the best thing till now.
SO I am not sure if you did the right thing by putting up the hyphens there where probably you should have put commas.
This just seemed a hell lot confusing to me. Would you mind explaining me?
I liked it very much...an introduction to the nature.
Why character development? Sorry, I didn't understand it.
Either you put commas in between the three colours because that is the rule or...or write a pattern made up of blue, pink and white. Interesting colour combination!
Funny!
So I cannot stop myself from commenting on the dress and the costume part. She's a typical she-woman/ As I said before I really lked the colour combination and it somewhat reminded me of vanilla and strawberry cone. Love it! You mentioned everything about her traits and personality here only which was fabulous.
So you asked whether it's turning out comic and funny or not and I would answer yes. A definite 'yes'.
Although it was a well-written story, with beautiful imagery, description, sarcasm, it sometimes confused me. But it can just be me. When someone comes outside to meet Shadow I got really confused. Sorry to say! But then reading it twice and thrice I could comprehend everything and felt proud on it.
The tension you created in the beginning, the suspense, the thrill, all made me shiver and I could really well imagine things.
Also it was a bit lengthy, but appropriate to be called a chapter. So good thing it is.
My one issue was with the chapter's name i.e. In Which a Zipper Sets the Plot in Motion seems a bit long name and when you probably get published it might seem odd. You might cut 'In Which' from the title to make it better. A title of the chapter should catch your attention instantly.
Now I really want to give more lenghty review but I am at a loss of words.
Keep Writing!
~Shubhi
I've finally gotten around to reviewing this. XD Sorry I'm so late!
Anyway, I now think I know what you feel like when you're reviewing my stuff because honestly, I can't think of a single helpful thing to say. This is simply amazing. I love it. Maybe it's because I'm a sucker for superhero stories and I'm a big superhero buff. Whatever it is, I love it; I love how it's at once a more realistic treatment of superheroes (Marie having to deal with finding a place to change, the stuck zipper, her thinking about keeping up image), and more silly (the interactions between the evil overlord and the Shadow). The narrative voice has to be my favorite part of the story--it's very sardonic and sassy and genre savvy and fits the story perfectly. It could be a character in its own right. Love the breaking the fourth wall bits, too. ^^
The characters are very well presented and well rounded even though this is only the first chapter. I love the usage of omniscient POV, since we get a look at both Marie and the Shadow as characters. I like the subtle hintings of Marie being rather vainglorious yet a little weary about being a hero as well, without pounding it in--often times when making a self centered character it's difficult to be subtle about it, which you've done marvelously. The Shadow is well done too; love his faintly sardonic interactions with the evil overlord, and how he's presented not so much as an evil person than as a hapless one. I like that he's fundamentally a good guy, and it's gotten me even more interested in his character (unless he's just a minor one-off character, which in this case ignore all that). You've done a wonderful job of setting up the characters here--we already know a lot about them, yet there's still plenty more to learn.
One thing I'm a little cautious about is knowing now that Marie isn't the main character. I'll reserve judgment until I read the other chapters, but I've already become quite used to her narrative and it'd be odd and rather jarring to suddenly switch to another character, especially since that character hasn't shown up here. I don't know...it's more that Marie is being presented as main character in this first chapter, with no indication except for what you said being that she actually isn't. It might be too much a change between Marie's chapter and the proper main character.
Surprisingly, I didn't notice as much prose nitpicks as I typically find in LoSLoR (though a good majority of this were just Iarin's stuttering...*shrugs*). A few awkward phrasings, though, near the beginning:
It took me about three reads to even begin understanding what this sentence means. I think there are too many ideas going on in here, such as throwing in description of the city with the way the Shadow is moving. Makes for a fairly messy sentences. If you want to give the reader a picture of the city, put it in the next sentence.
I know the effect you're going for here, but it's not quite working. All I see is a profusion of adverbs and my eyebrows are twitching insanely. There must be a better way to phrase this, without the adverbs.
Other than that, there weren't any that particularly stood out. I'm a little leery about the profusion of italics--though it's part of the narrative voice, it might get to be too much at times.
Overall, wonderful job. I'll be sure to keep up with this. ^^ PM me if you have any questions.
It was funny!
I love your style where you emphasize your words. It gives it its own feel. I'm not that great with words so if I say your rhythm is good does that make sense? Or in other words, you have an fascinating writing style. Your characters were good and realistic. Like the way you gave some background for Marie, very good. *applaudes* 
Whatever your doing keep doing it.
Um, I not good at reviewing grammar and such. But if I could pick one thing I didn't like about the story was that you made it a little confusing at the start. Well, maybe it was because I had no clue what kind of story this was. Or maybe that was your intentions?
Anywho, good job. *thumbs up*
(also, if you could tell me what you think of my stories, I’d really appreciate it!)