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At a time that's not the time they're all in Metropolis, there is a pair of fishnet tights out in the training field.

They're being worn by Dinah, who is stretching and warming up and waiting to see who's going to turn up for a training session, which is really the only reason you'd ctach her at the farm these days.

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"There are a few here," Dinah says, "Mel, for one. But I've known people stronger. A man I used to work with could punch a building into orbit."

"Where's that?" Still, even with ignorance of scientific terminology, punching a building anywhere is an impressive feat. Not even werewolves or vampires can do that. At least, that she's heard.

"Sounds like one scary guy!"

Dinah just points up. Straight up.

"Space," she says. "And Superman? No, he's a pussycat, really. It's the guys that don't have powers you have to watch for. They'll find your weak spot."

WOW. Sonia is definitely impressed.

"Sure wish we had someone like him back in Warakiya. Bet you he'd be able t'take care of Dracula easy." Like by PUNCHING THE WHOLE CASTLE INTO THE HEAVENS.

"Yeah... and there's more of 'em."

"Probably," Dinah agrees. "You'd still be surprised at the volume of work the rest of us need to do, though.

"Your technique is good. Step up, a little harder. I want you to get a feel of what a normal punch feels like."

"Harder?" eep. Um... OK, so, something between this and "Sonia's normal punch." That's a wide range.

She errs on the safe side, just scaling it to "slightly faster, though with a kind of jerky awkwardness."

"There's a lot of y'all?"

"Lots," Dinah agrees, smiling at the punch. "Your technique is suffering. Keep it like that until you're moving smoothly.

"My Mom was a member of a group called the Justice Society of America. I grew up with about half a dozen uncles who all fought the bad guys as a calling."

"I just... don't wanna really hurt you. I MEAN not that like I don't think-"

Well, especially not now, what with the badguy-fighting uncles. Surely she'd have picked something up from that.

She slows it down for a few practice punches before trying it again. It's less jerky, at least, though somewhere in the range of what one of Mel's kids might manage as far as power goes.

"Man, that sounds great... it was just me an' Papa an' Grandfather, back home..."

"I know," Dinah says. "Just keep it this lightly, and we'll go up slowly. But technique's always more important than how hard you hit."

She learned that from the uncles.

"That's good though - family. Where you all strong?"

"Technique. Right." Grandfather termed it things like "not screwing up," but the gist seems to be the same.

"I- I'm- was- the strongest. I could do things they couldn't. 'swhy folks don't like me much. Back home." And why she's doing this!

"That happened in our world, too," Dinah says, shifting her weight and keeping her hands up, smiling encouragement at a few good punches.

"Do you know the source of it?"

Of course! "God."

Oh hey, smiling! That's certainly encouraging. She turns it up a couple of notches, still slow but smoother and a bit more powerful.

"My folks an' the priests, they all said I was given what I got so I could do somethin' great for everyone. I almost got there, too. Then..."

"Keep it at this level for a bit." It's still too gentle, but Dinah wants her to work up slowly.

"God's the course of everything, of course. And He probably decided you had something more important to do over here."

Dinah is, at best, agnostic, but she has an idea.

"I guess... there's that ghost city." Although she is not going there on her own. No siree. She may be stubborn, but she does, in fact, know when she's licked.

As for the punching, she's growing more confident, at least in her ability to throw a punch without immediately breaking bones. That's definitely something.

"What ghost city, where?"

They should really be keeping closer tabs on this.

uhhh...

um...

Shit.

"I... I was out when we left," she mutters, abashed. "Satya might remember. She was there, too. She's the one got us out."

"I'll ask," Dinah confirms. "You're OK now?"

"Oh, yeah." She nods. "Just fine. Wasn't no worse'n I had before."

...OK, in all honesty... "'cept... they make you... y'know, they take away your will t'fight. Your hope."

Oh, OK.

"Yeah," Dinah says quietly. "I know what that's like."

Only in her case it wasn't magical.

:(

"But you're good now?" She is going to feel really, really bad about punching someone who's depressed. Even if she's supposed to be.

"it was ten years ago," Dinah points out.

"...guess that means 'yeah.'" Sheepish smile.

"Yeah," Dinah confirms. "It was long and hard and caused all sorts of problems, but I got over it."

"What you gotta do, right?"

The punching is getting smoother and faster, though a little stronger as she loses track of it.

"Right," Dinah says.

"Slow down. Control it."