As a writer and illustrator of fiction, I create armies of female baddies for them to be hopelessly outmatched by heroes. These sexy antagonists stand around guarding with their backs to corners or corridors. When they attack, they charge headlong in crowds. Their bodies are left sprawled about as the heroes continue on to confront the final boss.
Things are different when heroes are not the enemy. I mean “heroes” in the classical sense, as in superhuman warriors.
Fiction is not always about heroes. It can be about ordinary people too. Someone normal may be the main character. In such a case, the foot soldiers of villainy are threats to be feared. It may be better to hide from them than to fight them. If they must be fought, it shall be as equals, thus, the results of the violence shall most likely prove tragic, no matter who wins.
A story may be a war story, as a violent drama rather than as an action-adventure. Armies fight each other, whether conventionally or as a guerilla war. The combat may be at sea or in the air or in outer space. Unless commanding officers, the main characters are lost in a crowd of combatants. We experience the war from their perspective as they strive to not only win, but to survive.
I tend to write related stories. They are fiction in a
shared universe. An army of female baddies may be soldiers to slaughter with
pathetic ease in one story, but not in another. It depends on what characters
are the focus. The very same female baddies may be scary in another tale, or
not even the baddies if the story is told from their perspective.
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