They called it the Boom Boom Room. The premier strip club in the Suicide Slums, frequented by everyone who couldn't afford the place five blocks over. It was near-identical to every other three-story brick building in the Slums, save for the giant, neon letters on the roof that spelled out its initials: BBR. That middle B had made a habit out of breaking every couple of days for the last month. The Room's helpful customers made sure to point it out to the owner every time she came by; yet still it stood, broken and unlit.
Thumping music filtered out onto the sidewalk, where the BBR's only bouncer was doing his best to keep his eyes open. They called the big man 'Little Petey,' even though he insisted it was Cephas. Little Petey was a cornerstone of the community, known for helping anybody and everybody who needed it- no questions asked. This night job was the only thing paying the bills while he struggled his way through school while the sun was up. Nobody knew how the guy did all that and still managed to show up to synagogue every Saturday morning.
His body was the battering ram Superboy used to bash down the front door. Cephas went a-tumbling head over heels through the air until he crashed in the middle of a bachelor party. People scattered. The bartender pulled a first aid kit off the wall and rushed to check on the bouncer.
"Good evening scumbags and crooks-"It wasn't exactly the scene he expected. This was the supervillain's clubhouse? No thugs had pulled their guns when he made his grand entrance. The DJ had abandoned his post rather than setup the beat for the fight to come. "Come on, guys, really? Nothing?" Maybe they knew better than to mess with the S, but still...so lame.
Gotham's criminals would'a tried something. They were all psychos.
"I'm gonna be honest with you fellas, this ain't the night to piss me off. Got a real desire to beat the snot outta somebody, n' I'm gettin' the impression you're all too soft to take what I can dish out. So how's about you get your boss out here, alright? Lookin' for a lady named Knockout."Somebody came marching toward him. Dark-haired woman, short, and dressed like a working professional. Didn't at all match the description in Cadmus's briefing but she looked pissed to all hell. "She doesn't go by that name anymore, asshole." She stuck a finger in Superboy's face. "And you have a lot of nerve assaulting my employees and destroying my property. I'll give you one chance to get out of here before I call the cops."
"What?" He blinked.
"Sorry, just who'n the hell are you?" The audacity! He could count the number of people who'd talked to him like that on one hand, and none of 'em worked for the bad guys.
"I'm Liana Kerzner, this is
my club, its
my partner you're threatening, and you'll have to go through
me before you lay a finger on her. Got it, punk?"
Superboy was still trying to compute everything she'd just said when a voice three rooms above his head drew his attention.
"Am I who you're looking for-"The boy of dubious-consciousness went soaring up, up and away, leaving her alone with her partner for the time being. Knockout was a monster of a woman, scrapping just under seven feet tall and more built than an amazon: arms like cannons, muscles taut like steel cable, and thighs with the mass of neutron stars. She pumped an arm in the air.
"Yes!" She hollered.
"One crack unto the jaw and he is already on the ropes. They don't make Kryptonians like they used to, truly." She looked to Liana for agreement and found only scorn.
"What?""I had that!"
"I would beg to differ. That boy's hormones stunk of anger and violence. It was only a matter of time before he became trouble," she motioned to the missing front door,
"more trouble, to be precise.""Why- why are you wearing that?" Liana motioned to the faded green leotard, which left precious little to the imagination. "And you called yourself that again? Really, Kay?"
Knockout crossed her arms defensively.
"My other attire is not suitable for battle, and- and that was what he knew me by! You're making a- what is the phrase- mountain out of this mole hill."Liana grabbed Kay's arm. Her expression softened to sadness. "You said you were done, Kay. That was the deal. You hang up all this and I come back-"
"I know!" Kay turned, taking both of Liana's hands in her own.
"I know, my ambrosia...my sweet nectar of the gods, I know. And I have, truly. But what else was I to do? What kind of woman would I be if I let you fight my battles? This is our life, and I will not surrender it without a fight."A pause for consideration. The two stood, hand in hand, as Liana wrestled with those words. It felt like an eternity had passed before she spoke again. "Alright, alright. Go kick his ass for hurting our people. But that's the end of it."
"Yes! You shan't regret it." Kay leaned in for a kiss, only for Liana to let go and step back.
"Oh no, no no. Not rewarding this. Now go already!"
Five blocks down ♦ Metropolis, Delaware
'Ouch.'Superboy plied himself out of the pavement. That hit packed enough punch to send him flying all the way outta the Slums! Now he was out in Hob's Bay, embedded in the parking lot of...the
Ace? Wait, was this that highfalutin 'gentleman's club' that Rex was always going on about? And now he was thinking about what got Rex Leech's rocks off. Gross. So very gross.
Shaking the chill from his spine, Superboy stood on unsteady feet. Head was still throbbing. Nobody'd hit him so hard in his whole life. Sure, in-context that wasn't the longest period of time, but it sure felt significant to him. Nothing could ruin this moment, not even Rex's sex life.
Finally, finally! A real, bonafide, in-the-flesh supervillain. This wasn't carjackers, bank robbers or some loser with a third robotic arm. Knockout was one of the big players. Somebody who could trade punches with the big S without crumbling like a sack of potatoes. This was his chance to prove he was more than...than some third-stringer knockoff whose only purpose in life was to sell merch.
'Tonight's gonna be my big break.' He thought, deploying the camera drones on his belt with a tap of his finger.
'I'll show 'em. I'll show 'em all just who Superboy really is.'A shape appeared in the sky above. A figure, draped in green, descending down to the street like a comet. She slowed to a stop just before her boots touched the asphalt. Hovering there, red mane whipping in the wind behind her, a barely concealed mix of rage and rapture on her face.
"So you're Knockout, Fury of the Apocalypse." He called out to her, trying to keep his voice from cracking. The pressure of the moment was getting to him.
"Gotta be honest, the name's badass. Why's it spelled so weird, though? Or was Cadmus's tech guy totally wasted when he wrote up your dossier?"She raised a brow, expression shifting. Confusion.
"Have I fallen into such obscurity since retirement? Or perhaps you are an ignorant whelp who does not understand the ways of the world. Either way, allow me to educate you, boy. In my prime I served Darkseid, lord of the planet Apokolips, as one of his Furies: we were the tip of his spear, his honor guard. We scourged a thousand worlds in his name.""That's..." Superboy held a clenched fist up.
"So frickin' cool.""Yes! I mean- what?" Knockout shook her head.
"No, you dolt. I shan't never forget the horrors we committed. On Apokolips we were raised as beasts: mercy was punished, while cruelty-""No, yeah, don't get me twisted, that's real evil. You're a nasty piece of work. I'm just sayin' its a pretty, I'unno, metal backstory for my nemes-""-Is this all a game to you, boy? You ignoble, rash, petulant lecher-""Hey, I resent that last one.""Then you are truly worthless. Fine, you wish to do battle?" Knockout slammed her gloves together, and the shockwave it produced broke every window for a hundred yards.
"Let us test your mettle! This one is for Cephas!"