@aviiian liked this for a starter!
“...I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Super quite
like yourself, miss.” Wings-- real, wide, feathery
bird wings sprouted from the woman’s back. Simon
tried not to stare, both out of reasons of respect and
practicality. It’d be a shame to accidentally burn her.
He stopped leaning forwards in his office chair and
reclined, blinking slowly.
“I’m going to guess and say the reason you’re here is
because of... Those,” he mumbled, pressing steepled
fingers to his lips. Every other Super he had encountered,
both in and out of costume, had never had an advancement
quite like hers; they were all easy to hide, most of the time.
Simon did wonder how someone like the Phylange kept his
day job as an opera singer.