You are on the regular commute to work, halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge, when you decide to switch on the radio. Given the state of traffic, you expect to hear bad news.
The news you hear is more than bad, it is catastrophic. Supposedly a spate of violence has been committed simultaneously, causing disarray for the police. Not moments later, you notice yelling – not from the radio, but outside the car.
Sticking your head out of the window, you are dumbstruck – a man is outside, leaping over the roofs of cars. On the radio, an announcement is made: ‘But Power Girl has been seen aiding police!”
“Hey!” you yell, to no avail as he leaps over your bonnet, and then depresses your roof with a loud clank.
You tuck your head back into the car, shaking it as you muse over what sort of crisis he must be going through. His crisis might be catching up to him! You suddenly view a flash of a white garb, blonde hair and red cape that whizz past your car in quick succession.
You step out of the car, as a few other startled motorists do.
“Hey buddy, did you see that?” You ask.
“You mean that woman? She had a body to die for” A voice calls back.
Now that’s fanciful, you muse. “Sure it wasn’t a bird or something?” You quiz.
“No way was that a bird... well, she was a bird if you catch my meaning” Another gruff voice replies.
The group’s collective conclusion is true, you discover, behind you is an ensuing battle. Power Girl you muse... Power Girl is... “Wow, now that’s a woman!” a matronly voice adds.
Woah! You duck. Power Girl flies just overhead once again with someone else in-tow.
She stops not ten feet from your vehicle, clutching the same man from before, lifting him effortlessly into the air.
You finally grab a proper look for yourself. Sure enough, she is emblazoned with an auspicious costume, clinging to an athletic frame. It seems rather modest, except for the cleavage, cavernous and shapely. Her eyes seem to lock onto yours, which directs your attention downward, to a pair of sturdy blue boots. You gaze up again.
You realize she looks to address the commuters...
Before dispatching the man she calls down: “Maintain calm, but I believe this segment of the bridge may collapse.” Her voice is quite commanding, but calm is the opposite of what her address garners. “Exit your vehicles in an orderly fashion!”
Soon, people begin to evacuate the bridge en masse, some more orderly then others. Some flailing arms and screams of panic aside, Power Girl addresses the situation admirably.
You notice that you’ve left your briefcase in the back of your car. It contains your most recent financial reports. Upon stooping to peer into the car window, the bridge begins to creek.
You leap into your car reactively; you figure you've got better odds if you are inside the vehicle.
Power Girl is quick to spot that you are the only remaining person in immediate danger.
The bridge suddenly gives way; a small segment falls, with one of your rear tires dipping dangerously into the crevice. With no further warning, you begin to free-fall. All before a matter of seconds you see Power Girl leaps to catch you, before the water does. You clutch the car wheel, peering up as the bridge grows further away.
She manages to narrowly save you, car supported by her strength; you begin to float weightlessly up onto another section of the bridge.
The ordeal is brief, but shocking. Power Girl leans into your window. You’ve got some explaining to do.
“I am mortified for putting you in harm’s way... but thank you for saving my life.” You announce, leaning over the driver wheel. “I’m sorry, I mean, I just thought about my reports...” you denote, glancing back you realize that your briefcase is nowhere to be seen.
“Well, any day some reports are the only casualties, I consider that a victory.” The super-heroine reflects.
You nod at her, suddenly remembering your manners “Oh, by the way, my name is Craig.” You say, still shaken.
“Well Craig, my name is Kara – but you may know me better as Power Girl, but Karen will also do.” Power Girl replies with a chuckle at the sudden introductions.
“I don’t know how I can make it up to you Kara.” You try, unfamiliar with the heritage of her name. You are also impressed with her willingness to reveal her identity to you, though given the circumstances, you suppose you offer little for her to fear.
She asses you, reflecting on your conversation she concludes: “I doubt you will be capable of driving after that kind of scare, right?”
You concede defeat, admitting you certainly will have to build up the nerve.
Within moments, Kara is at the front of your car, which itself is now levitating weightlessly.
You dimly announce a set of directions to your apartment, but Power Girl certainly seems to know where she is going, you realize it is likely you will be going to her own abode. You have a brief intermission to reflect upon Power Girl’s blonde bob, thick and vibrant, hemming the peripheries of obviously gorgeous features.
In short order, you arrive. Finally stepping out of the car, you find a small gathering of awestruck onlookers, and a statuesque woman waiting for you. Her height certainly seems bolstered by her footwear, the same appetizing blue boots you noted from before – they have a thick wedge of heel. You find meeting her so close is rather confronting, given her proximity to you, you have the urge to peer away, lest your attention be drawn to her... distracting costume. You compose yourself.
“I must thank you again, I owe you—
--Nothing.” She concludes, smiling. “I don’t do this sort of superhero stuff for that kind of kick.”
“But... I surely must offer you something!” you demand, moved by her heroic deeds, giving her momentary pause... “I am a heck of a masseuse.”
“Hmm” she grins, “Well, if you must. You can join me in my apartment for a coffee, I’m sure you will be good company.” She thinks over her offer again. “A massage wouldn’t hurt” she admits.
You accompany her inside, departing from the growing crowd of people onlooking. You are both greeted by the doorman, who surprisingly seems unperturbed by Power Girl’s attire.
Upon reaching the lift, Kara presses the call button and shoots a smile to you.
“Well I think we evaded media attention. Consider yourself lucky.”
You walk into the lift with her, standing alongside. She places one hand onto her hip; you are amazed by her surety and composure. Though you exchange little in the ways of conversation, her presence is quite settling.
You depart from the lift with her, striding to the end of the hall. Kara flashes a key-card and guides you inside.
Her sense of taste is not misplaced, a penthouse suite.
You purvey the amazing suite, subtle, tasteful additions made by Kara reinforced by a good sense of interior design. One such addition is a majestic looking grand piano.
Upon walking into the living room with her, you are quite bedazzled, a glorious window view.
“Take a seat.” Kara beckons, striding over to an expensive looking coffee machine. In wonder, you walk over and sit on the couch, the spectacular view is never-ending, the view is stunning to behold, as you peer out to the city. You notice some tasteful decoration, but her apartment is mostly Spartan – giving a grand sense of space.
Power Girl looks utterly befitting of her surroundings. No, she is actually the centrepiece, you muse.
Soon, the strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the room. The earthy smell is very familiar. Kara strides over, offering your cup over the table. You arrange a coaster underneath it, not wanting to damage the décor.
She lounges on the chair, a robust, leather and metal throne. She takes a sip as she purveys the outside world, surely to a super-heroine, she must view said world with a grand sense of onus. The natural light travels in, falling to rest on her most appetizing features.
Power Girl rests one finger to tap on her boots, postured seductively.
What now?
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