Short Comic Tales: Power Girl vs. Faora

I came down softly on a quiet, breezy street, somewhere on the west side of the Metropolis’ Commons. I was in my costume, and probably should have brought something to cover it up, but really … I just needed a coffee, and a moment to think about the events of yesterday. Not any kind of high level analysis, or soul searching examination of it…. No, I just needed a moment to let it all sink it, before I did any of that. A moment to people watch, and sip on a latte before I went out for my daily patrol. It was calm there — peaceful, at the local coffee house. They knew me well. They knew my drink. They knew I like to read the Planet’s weekend section, even if it is a week old, and bean-stained. The dreadlocked barista behind the counter called me PG, as he always did, it’s cute really … he’s cute … even if he smells a little. Is it the hair, I wondered. With that thought, a sense of normalcy began to take me into its loving arms. Or at least, it tried to….

“OH GOD!” “LOOK OUT!” “NOOO!” The voices cried out as shouts and screams from the street outside, just as a gray sedan, upended, thrown, and spinning, smashed through the front, half-glass windows of the cafe. It broke tables and chairs — pillars and paintings — only barely missing the staff which fled into the back. At least, I thought that’s what I saw, from underneath the hulking mass of metal which laid on top of me.

“Come out, Power-Girl. I have come to take you.” The woman’s voice wasn’t familiar. It sounded calm, and soft, as if she knew she need not speak over a whisper to give others commands. Clearly, she didn’t know who she was messing with, or actually, maybe she did — as before I even had a chance to clear the cobwebs or come out from under the car, two red laser beams began cutting through the vehicle, from the top, down to where I was laying.

“CAN’T I JUST HAVE A COFFEE!?” I yelled. Yeah, it wasn’t the best line, but I was angry. The coffee was really good! That lost-latte-induced verbal rage was only the beginning, as I then used both arms to lift up the car up and off of me, and hurl it towards the sound of my unknown attacker’s voice. Though I threw it hard and strong, it is caught and stopped by a person I assumed was making use of dug in heels, and more than a little bit of super strength.

It was at that displaying of feat, that I knew I’d have a fight on my hands, leading me to jump from my laying position, into a fist-first leap into motionless car, sending it crushing down on top of my still-unseen opponent. As I came down for a landing, I grabbed the twisted piece of metal, and tore it away from my soft-spoken attacker. She laid there, trying to recover, until I reached down and grabbed the black-armored woman by the throat, pulling her up to eye level.

I didn’t recognize her voice, but I knew recognized her face and haircut — from images in the Justice League databases. It was Faora. A warrior from Krypton — Kal’s enemy. The thoughts processed quicker than their meaning, and the consequences hurt. Only feigning injury, she used a sharp elbow-drive to the ulnar nerves, forcing my grip to open, allowing her to break free. Once released, she grabbed my wrist, and with superhuman speed, moved behind me, once there wrenching my arm behind my back.

“You are a disgrace to Krypton’s memory.” She mocked, as a blistering rage built within me. She let go, just as I threw a wild haymaker at where I expected her face to be. But it was a trap, she having ducked, so that she could dodge my punch, and deliver a knee right to my stomach. “Oomph.” I let out, just as I dropped to all fours. Without mercy she then grabbed my hair, and shoved me face-first into the broken cement below.

“You barely know how to fight. You are lucky this planet’s villains are so weak….” As she insulted me once again, she dragged me up from the ground with a grasp on my now-dirtied blonde hair. I kicked up my feet, and used my ability to fly so that I could angle myself towards an eyebeam at her, but she raised a single bracer, blocked the shot, and slugged me in the face as it ended, knocking me hard into the ground again. I was dizzy, my blood was boiling, and I couldn’t see straight, due to the effects of both. Now unaware of her position, I tried to stand, but received only a kick to the ribs for my effort, a blow that sent me rolling into the shattered remnants of the cafe I once loved.

“Hey, bitch! Leave PG alone!” The dread-wearing barista, who had refused to run like the rest of his co-workers and everyone else in the vicinity, called out to Faora, this Kryptonian soldier. I reached out to him, to motion for him to leave, and tried to muster the strength to yell for him to do the same, but before I could, she was on him — at him, driving a Kryptonian blade through his heart. ⠀

“Shhh…. She is mine.” Faora whispered, as the blade pressed deeper, his body went limp, and his eyes went from anguished to dull and lifeless. It was that sight — that moment that gave me to will to fight back despite the pain! I pushed off from the ground, and flew at her with every ounce of strength I had.

“AAARRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH” I grunted in absolute maddened rage and sadness. So intent was I on hurting her, that on contact I just kept pushing, driving her through wall after wall — building after building, until breaking out of the last bricks on the street, I threw her will full force into a parked gas-filled semi-truck, which exploded with such force and ferocity that I could see nothing, save for my opponent’s form being thrown back towards me by the explosion. As she traveled through the smoke and fire-filled air, I used my breath to freeze her, not only till she couldn’t move, but until she was a solid block of thick blue ice.

With her left unmoving, I grabbed the frost-built cage that contained her, and took it high, high into the sky, until I reached the upper-atmosphere. Such a point reached, I then turned, pulled her cube in front of me, and with all of my anger and pain as fuel, began throwing wild, violent punches — one after another — and fired beams from my eyes at her heart. The attacks combined began loosening/melting the ice, and damaging she who was within. We plummeted like that, me wailing on her, and letting loose all of my strength to punish her, until at the end of our journey, I let her crash into a nearby, and thankfully empty propane dealership, which exploded with a magnitude and force that left Faora’s body set ablaze; unmoving; broken; battered; and of no more threat to me. The work done, I pressed a button on my Justice League communicator.

“This is Power-Girl. I need a pickup….” The words came out confident but saddened, as I surveyed the aftermath of our vicious and costly battle.

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