Daughter, Lover, Superheroine Ch. 11

[This story is set in Paragon City, taken from the former MMO game City of Heroes. All place names, hero names and registered trademarks belong to their rightful legal owners and are not intended as copyright infringement in any way. This work is purely meant as a piece of entertainment, and not for commercial purposes in any way, shape or form.]

[The precursor to this series is entitled "Mom the Superheroine".]

[Thanks to my girlfriend Ashley for being my muse as always <3... and to AwkwardMD for being such a good reader and sounding board!]

*****

Mercedes blinked a few times.

"Oh, bollocks," she muttered muzzily, and sat up, rubbing her jaw and wincing. Then she saw the two women sitting anxiously beside the bed and gave a start.

"Debbie! Whatever are you -- never mind, this is fortuitous. Contact the others immediately -- tell Ashley to get her arse over here right this moment! I need these Shackles off! Oh, and we need to get over to Striga Isle as soon as it is expedient to do so. Your daughter," she told Barbara angrily, "is quite the brute. Her approach to problem-solving is comparable to that of Alexander the Great -- the historical one, not the fellow we've got styling himself that way -- when confronted with the insurmountable conundrum of the Gordian Knot..."

Barbara grabbed her by the shoulders. "Where is Cindy?!"

"Aark!" Mercedes squawked in startlement. "She's... she's fine! I suppose! How long have I been out cold?"

"A few minutes," Debbie informed her.

"She's probably holding her own, then! I've seen her fight. Her body is nigh-invulnerable to any of the Warriors' weapons. But still, I will concede the odds did not seem to be in her favor. Briskness and alacrity, Debbie, is called for! Contact Ashley McKnight, tell her I've got the Shackles of Iocaste on me -- she'll know what to do -- and as soon as I can use my magic again I will bring us all back to Cindy's side to aid her in battle!"

Debbie quickly whipped her phone out and spun around, dialing frantically.

Barbara was beside herself with anxiety, but she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths. "What happened? Why are you here, wearing Cindy's medi-porter beacon?"

"It's not by any choice of mine, I can assure you of that," Mercedes replied stiffly. "Any plan I devised would certainly not have involved eating a knuckle sandwich served up by your beefy daughter. It was entirely her extempore idea, hatched and executed in the same moment apparently, without prior consultation with me. She's..." Mercedes's voice trailed off as she saw the anxiety on Barbara's face. "She's... a true Hero. She's put herself in some considerable danger, to save me," she mumbled, looking away, "and I am eager to return to her as quickly as I can. We should all go. She will be glad for the reinforcements, I warrant."

"What's she facing? What's happening? How bad was it when you left?" Barbara demanded.

Mercedes, to her credit, tried to deliver a succinct précis. "We were in the cargo hold of a derelict tanker, surrounded by approximately a hundred Warriors, with some notable captains among them. Their leader, Hector, wears the Crown of Glory, but I witnessed her resist his blandishments and throw his words back in his face -- which is something I would previously have thought was impossible! Cindy's body, as I mentioned earlier, seems more or less impervious to their weaponry. But she may well be overwhelmed by their superior numbers. So we have to act quickly. Barbara, your daughter Cindy is... really quite amazing. Clearly possessed of some unusual depths. You see, the Crown of Glory is not some mere magical artifact -- it..."

Debbie turned and interrupted. "Ashley says she's on her way from Cap Au Diable, in the Rogue Isles, but it'll take some time for her to get here. She's coming in through the Mansion, so I told her to come out in Steel Canyon. That's the closest doorway." The Midnight Mansion occupied a magical nexus of space-time, with exits leading out to locations hundreds of miles apart.

"We need to meet her halfway. There's absolutely no time to waste. We must commandeer a vehicle, post-haste. Where are we, exactly?"

"This is the north side of Atlas Park," Barbara told her. "Near City Hall." She turned away. "I have to go to her. Tell me exactly where she is, and I'll get there."

"That... that would be most impractical, Battler Babe. The precise location of that tanker near Striga Isle is difficult to describe. I can take us back to my previous location with magic, but I need these Shackles removed first..."

Barbara rounded on her, eyes blazing. "She's my daughter! I have to go to her!"

Mercedes shrank back from the look on Barbara's face. "I-I know, but...!"

Barbara took hold of the glowing chain between Mercedes's wrists, braced herself, and pulled as hard as she could with her super-strong muscles. There was no visible effect.

"Cindy tried that as well, but these can't be broken by such mundane means -- please, Battler Babe, you must calm down and listen to me! My colleague will rendezvous with us with all due dispatch, and she knows to bring the Key of Hecate and use the appropriate counterspell. Once this blasted thing is off, I'll get us back to Cindy's side in a jiffy. You have my word on it!"

Barbara ignored her. She continued straining, trying to break the enchanted chain with her bare hands. The muscles on her arms, shoulders and neck bulged.

Debbie placed a hand supportively on her arm, looking distraught. "Barbara... this might not be the best idea..."

"This isn't going to work! You're just wasting your strength, Battler Babe!" Mercedes rolled her eyes. "We should be making our way to Steel Canyon. It's not too far from here."

Unwillingly, Barbara released the unyielding chain, mentally cursing it. "Fine," she breathed, "we'll do it your way. You got my daughter into this mess. You'd better get her out of it."

Mercedes wilted under Barbara's glare. "O-of course. Assuredly I will. It's... it's simply that we have to go about this the right way. I hope you understand. Um. We should go now, perhaps. Might we hail a taxi?" By which Barbara supposed she meant "cab".

"Too slow," Barbara decided. "I'll make my way to the campus myself. I know the way. I'll carry you. Debbie... do you need..."

"Oh!" Debbie's eyes widened slightly. "No, I won't have to weigh you down -- I have a flight spell I can use."

"Carry... me?" Mercedes's eyes widened.

"Yes," Barbara said curtly. She reached down, wrapped her arm around Mercedes's waist, and hefted her up with no visible difficulty. "Come on, Debbie. You can show me the way to the meeting place, outside your Mansion."

Debbie barely had time to nod her acquiescence before Barbara was outside the medi-bay and sprinting down the hallway, each step eating up considerable distance. Mercedes gasped. Then she yelped.

"Is there not... some better... alternative?!"

And when Barbara stepped out of the base, squinted up at the sky, and took her first super-powered leap, Mercedes's shrieks pierced the sky.

Debbie uttered the mystic words that allowed her to float aloft on a cloud of whirling runes, and followed after Barbara as best as she could. Battler Babe jumped from rooftop to rooftop, still in her civilian clothes. She'd not even stopped to change into her costume. Of course, Debbie reflected, if she were in Barbara's place, she'd probably do the same. She could feel the worry and concern radiating off Barbara in near-palpable waves.

And she, too, felt a sense of urgency on Cindy's account. She definitely owed Cindy one, and they were friends, after all. If Cindy's big, strong Mom was leaping off into action to aid her then she, Debbie, would not be far behind!

Meanwhile, it brought a small smile of schadenfreude to her lips to hear the hoity-toity Mercedes evince every sign of gibbering panic. Privately, she thought it might be a rather exhilarating experience, to be carried along by Barbara like that. She wondered if Cindy had ever experienced that, when she was a child. To be in Barbara's arms as she leapt from roof to roof in the night air... to feel safe and secure in her muscular embrace...

I'll ask you later, Cindy, after we've rescued you and we're all back safe and sound in your home base, she thought. Hang in there, Cindy -- we're coming!

Barbara's mind, meanwhile, was consumed with fear for her daughter. She knew rationally that the squirming, thrashing foreign aristocrat under her arm wasn't to blame -- dangerous situations like this were part of a Hero's job description. And there was no one more suited to such a life than Cindy.

But even at her peak Barbara had never faced down a hundred toughened criminals, with their elite leaders present to boot, and prevailed. Cindy was stronger than her, they knew that, but by that much? It was too much of a stretch, surely. Was it not?

Cindy, my darling... hang in there! We're coming!

**

Cindy kept her guard up, breathing heavily. Her flesh had been slashed at and pounded with what felt like dozens, if not hundreds, of weapon blows. She felt bruised and tender all over. Her costume now mostly hung in tattered shreds off her body. Only her eye-mask, panty tights, gloves and boots were still intact -- her upper body was entirely bare. Darn. Yet another costume ruined. Sorry, Mom! I'll have to see about getting another voucher from Icon Tailors...

At least she had destroyed most of the axes, maces and swords wielded against her. They now littered the floor around her, bent and warped out of shape. A few were little more than twisted lumps of scrap metal now.

But the men who had wielded them still posed a clear and present danger. Now shorn of weaponry, they switched to unarmed combat -- and their movements made it abundantly clear that they had honed their skills to extremely high levels.

Pankration, Cindy recalled from some class she'd taken once. The ancient Greek martial art, very much no-holds-barred, except for the usual restrictions against "cheating" moves like eye-gouging in formal matches. She wondered what rules applied now!

They ringed her, seven against one. The one called Dolon stepped forward into the impromptu circle. So, they would attempt to fight with some semblance of honor, it seemed, like a ritualistic duel.

These weren't ordinary men -- their physical abilities had been empowered to meta-human levels. Each one individually was still no match for her in terms of raw power, but Cindy had a feeling that complacency would spell defeat for her here.

Meanwhile the hundred or so minions surrounded them in a great big sea of stubbled faces and red bandanas, camouflage vests and torn jeans. They raised their fists and yelled, their faces distorted by savagery.

"Beat down that bitch, Dolon!"

"Break her! Break that Stacy!"

"Fucking Stacy. You show that femoid who's boss, Dolon!"

Cindy blinked. What're they talking about? Who's Stacy? And what the heck is a "femoid"?

But there was no time to puzzle that out -- Dolon closed the distance, hunkered over in a predatory crouch, with his hairy forearms held up in front of his face, and then struck out with a meaty right fist.

Cindy caught it in her left hand with a smack. But instantly, Dolon's left hand shot up and gripped her forearm. Then he swiveled his entire body, performing something like a judo toss, sending Cindy flying over his shoulder.

She landed with a smack on the floor, momentarily stunned. Not bad, she had time to think, before he stepped over her, still clutching her arm, and attempted to fall down into an arm-bar.

"Well, look who's been dabbling a bit in jiujitsu," Cindy muttered, as she countered by rolling quickly in the direction of her captive arm, and planting her feet beneath her. Dolon was now on his back, not relinquishing his grip on her left arm. Immediately his legs snapped up, as he attempted to lock them around her neck for a deadly triangle-choke -- the sankaku-jime.

"Yeah, no." Cindy grabbed hold of his left leg, behind the knee, and squeezed.

He screamed, and his entire body went limp. Still holding on to his knee from the rear, with her unbreakable grip, Cindy swung her whole body around and flung Dolon as far as she could. "And shower more often!" she yelled, as Dolon smacked face first into a wall, more than twenty feet away. He slid down onto the floor and slumped against the wall, unmoving.

Cindy turned, just in time to take a punch on her jaw. "Oof!" she grunted. It struck her on the chin, but her reflexes were honed enough that she rolled with the force, twisting her face away enough to soften the impact.

But another haymaker was swinging towards the front of her face. This one's fast! She couldn't avoid this one -- it slammed into her face, striking her cheek. Her head rocked back with the force of the blow, but also because she had again reflexively loosened her neck muscles just enough to absorb the hit.

She did stagger back though, and her arms came up to guard her head. Her opponent -- the largest one, Diomedes possibly -- pounded her forearms some more, each blow landing with a mighty thump.

Then he grabbed her forearms, stepped in, and launched several knee strikes at her belly. Cindy stiffened her abdominal muscles, and grunted with each knee strike. Again and again, Diomedes slammed his knee into Cindy's belly, doing his uttermost to pummel it.

After twenty such knee strikes, the bloodlust of the spectators was clearly reaching fever-pitch. They uttered a deep, manly "whoomp" every time the laughing Diomedes sank his knee into Cindy's flesh. They jeered her, vocalizing their pleasure at what they were seeing. "Pound her belly into mush! Heh, bitch thinks she's got abs. How do you like that, Heroine? Look at her tremble! See those muscles shaking like jelly! You thought you could match a real man's strength, huh? Not so tough now, huh, bitch?"

Diomedes grinned, and pulled at Cindy's arms, intending to spread her arms to the sides, leaving her wide open.

His grin faded -- her arms didn't budge.

The raucous noise subsided slightly as the watching men detected that something was amiss. Diomedes frowned, braced his shoulders, and strained, yanking at Cindy's arms. They began to shake slightly, but Cindy was keeping them in place, in the guard position.

"So apparently," Cindy remarked, from behind the protective wall of her forearms, "the Crown of Glory also enhances vocabulary, or something. At least when your leader insults me, he uses more and better words."

From atop the makeshift dais, Hector frowned tightly, his face white with anger. The Crown still gleamed coldly upon his brow.

"How... could you..." Diomedes gaped.

"I have a teacher, you know. You may or may not have heard of her. Back Alley Fury. She's a hell of a fighter." Cindy peeked out from behind her forearms and smiled brightly at Diomedes. "Sometimes, before training sessions, she helps me warm up by doing knee strikes on my abdomen. A round fifty of them. And let me tell you... Diomedes, was it? Compared to her, you do knee strikes like a baby learning to walk."

"Arrrgh... uurrrgghhh..." Diomedes grunted with abandon, throwing all his strength into his effort to break Cindy's boxing guard by sheer muscular strength alone. "You... muscle bitch... I... break... your face..."

They braced their feet as the test of arm strength escalated. Slowly, Diomedes was managing it, and Cindy's arms were slowly pulled out, uncovering her face. But she wore a look of grim determination, rather than the rictus of exertion that Diomedes was displaying.

She was much stronger than him, she could feel it. She could keep her arms in place for as long as she wanted, with her muscle against his... but she wanted to see where he thought he was going from here.

Diomedes began to laugh, breathlessly, and the ugly cheering resumed as Cindy appeared to lose the strength test. "Now you go down, bitch," he snarled, and threw a headbutt against Cindy's face. Cindy tilted her head down just an inch, and stiffened her neck muscles.

Their foreheads slammed together, and Diomedes staggered back, stunned and dazed, thoroughly disoriented.

Cindy gathered her strength. Her leg muscles tightened. Let's see... how did Vicky do it? Like this...?

Then she launched herself forward, like a human missile with her knee leading the way like a warhead. This was the Muay Thai forward knee strike Vicky had tried to perform on her during their unplanned street altercation. She'd barely dodged in time, and Vicky had practically caved in the side of a car.

Now Diomedes took the full brunt of it on his abdomen, and he went flying, right over the mass of his compatriots and into the far wall, across the cargo hold from the unconscious Dolon. He lay there, propped up by the wall, motionless. A thin trickle of blood flowed out of the corner of his mouth.

Cindy stood in the middle of the suddenly silent crowd, and cracked her knuckles audibly. The corner of her mouth twitched. If only you could see me right now, Mom!

"Normally, I'd hold back," she remarked. "But you guys seem pretty big and tough, especially you 'great captains.' You can take it, can't you? I don't know where you all got your powers from... but it feels like you can take just as much a beating as Trolls can. You're not just street thugs who break their knuckles when they try to punch my abs. And you fight pretty well, I'll give you that. Even my teacher Michelle might agree.

"You're all odious pigs, though. Every last one of you. I don't know where the hell you get off saying the things you do about women. I don't know what twisted little universe you inhabit, and frankly... I don't care to know. Now, if it's a fight you want, I'd be more than glad to pound every last one of your misogynist faces in, and show you what I'm really made of."

This was what her interdimensional twin sister Vicky had been wanting to see from her, she thought. "When you fight, fight to win! Strike with power overwhelming!" That was what she'd said once, during one of their conversations. A savage philosophy, Cindy had thought at the time. But now, she could understand. If she did not stop this incipient uprising at its source, in its nascent stage, the people of the entire city would suffer. She had to pound face now, brutally, to achieve a greater good for all. This was a malicious militia, bent on conquest and domination -- she could in good conscience fight with all her might for what was right.

Her gaze swept across the interior of the cargo hold, and she was pleased to observe that many of the men's faces now showed apprehension. The five remaining chosen champions still surrounded her, but each was keeping a cautious distance, and none seemed eager to take her on next. Hector still stood aloof on his dais, in front of his throne, and did not seem eager to enter the fray himself.

Cindy's smile widened. She knew, in that moment, that she was doing her mother proud -- that, like her mighty mother, she could rise to the challenge when strength of will was necessary.

Thank you, Mom, for everything -- my high pain tolerance, my ability to put mind over body, my fast healing and quick recovery, and the indomitable will we both have...

It was time to finish this, end the threat of Hector and the Crown, and return to see how Mercedes Sheldon was getting on in her medi-bay.

And also, she knew her mother had a nice pot roast waiting for her. Just the thing to go home to after punching some miscreants to a pulp.

Her voice rose in mocking beratement. "Come on! Who's next? I heard a Rhesus? Who's Rhesus? Antenor? How about you, Antenor? Come on, I'm just one weak woman, aren't I?"