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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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"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."

"Sorry!" Grimace. It goes back again. She does seem to have reasonable control. So long as she's thinking about it, at least.

"Don't apologise," Dinah tells her. "You'll mess up so often in training that it's not worth apologising to your sensei. Just correct it and improve."

"A- all right..." This goes counter to her instincts of interacting with anyone who isn't family. "'senn-say?'"

Punch punch punch!

"Japanese for 'Master'," Dinah explains, nodding at each punch she approves of -which is fewer than there were, but only because her standards are raising. "and fairly pervasive in Western culture of my time. There's a lot more to it than teaching, but it's an ideal I like to aspire to."

Hm, fewer nods. Concentrating time! More of her attention is on punching than talking now, so it's a bit before she asks, "What's your time?"

The year Dinah gives is around the turn of the 21st century. Comic time is vague, yo!

O_O

There is a pause for boggling, though she's still punchin' away. (Losing her control briefly in the process.)

Dinah exhales sharply once, and steps back with the momentum.

"Too hard. Focus."

"Sor-" fjdsklfl.

"Y- yeah..." Should she switch hands or something?!

"Th- that's just... a really long way away."

Dinah shakes out her wrists and holds them up again, the pads on her forearms forming a target for punching.

"What year was it for you?"