Continued from:

Where has Maia been and what's been going on behind the scenes? Check it out here:

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Mature Content

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Mature Content

Angel Falls, USA
The penthouse apartment of Olga and Maia, several hours later...

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Olga's eyes fluttered open. She was lying back in her own bed, tucked under the crisp, silk sheets, everything the night before nothing but a blur. Her head rang like the ring-side bell at a prize-fight and her body felt like she had gone the full twelve rounds. Her breasts in particular felt incredibly sore and ached. The still powerless Soviet Superwoman sat up, her head spinning as she did. She felt nauseous and had a terrible taste in her mouth to accompany how she felt all over. The last thing she could honestly remember was making her way to Solyanka and enjoying some vodka with Anatole. After that absolutely nothing, which began to increase her anxiety, making her feel even more sick to her stomach. Olga drew back the sheets to make her way to the toilet and gasped out loud at what she saw. Both her nipples were freshly pierced with sterling silver hammer and sickles. She stared, open-mouthed for a moment more before another wave of nausea hit her, causing her to bolt for the bathroom. She noticed she was still wearing her socks and the jeans she had worn the evening before as she ripped the lid open and vomited loudly into the blue water.


"Oh good, you're up!" a gruff, distinctly male voice hollered from downstairs, "I was getting worried I'd have to call a paramedic..."


Olga stood up, breathing heavily and grabbed a red towel from the nearby rack, wiping her mouth and the sweat from her face. The Russian super-soldier took Maia's green robe from behind the door and threw it on hastily, covering her still-incredibly sore breasts.


"I will be out in a moment." Olga called back, running her hands through her short, black hair. She moved to the sink and proceeded to brush her teeth both to remove the terrible taste from her mouth and to ensure that her breath didn't smell like she imagined it did. After that she made her way back through the bedroom and down the stairs.


Mattock McGinty was there, originally sitting on the couch he stood up when she made her way down the stairs.


"You have got to be the only person I know with nothing but documentaries on their DVR." he said with a smile.


"Matt, I thought that was your voice..." she trailed off after that, looking down at her formerly bare chest before looking back up at Matt. He narrowed his eyes at the silent question and shook his head gently in answer.


"I tried to get you to just go to bed, you insisted on showing off. You were really quite proud of them at the time."


Olga groaned and put her hands on her head before slumping down on the white couch despondently. "I have made a complete fool of myself! How did you find me?"


"Only a bit of a fool, and you wouldn't be the first. Odin found you, tracking social media. I just collected you up as discreetly as I could." Matt smiled faintly as if at a private joke. "I was nearby and not wearing a spandex costume of bright colors to draw more attention. Just riding a dragon in the city's glowing sky."


"What did I do last night Mattock?" Olga asked throwing her hands up in the air.


"Besides getting hammered, you arm-wrestled a few of the locals, lost a bet and ended up getting those piercings.


She groaned and winced as her head throbbed again. Briefly, she wondered who she had lost the bet to.


"I found you before you got a tattoo as well, so you're welcome."


"Thank you Mattock, truly." Olga replied, her voice full of relief and sincerity.


"Just be glad it was me and not Cedric." Matt chuckled, "He'd have probably egged you on to keep drinking, keep partying. That's the problem with alcoholics, they're their own enablers, too."


"I am not used to this Matt...feeling so weak and helpless. I always thought my humanity defined me, not my powers, but I see that is not so."


The short blonde man nodded and walked over to Olga. Reaching out with one hand, he guided her to the kitchen.


"You're just getting struck by the shock of it still. When something's a part of you for so long, you're bound to take it for granted, especially when you deal with things that already make you feel weak. But just because you've been made fragile doesn't mean your definition has changed, and if there's anything I've seen in the super-powered world, it's that things like this are always temporary."


Once in the kitchen, he sat her at the counter and walked over to the refrigerator.


"Alright, now, you're suffering from a hangover. Your body needs something greasy to replace sugars and salts, and water because it dehydrated itself trying to flush the alcohol from your system. I would recommend a BLT for breakfast, maybe some milk and orange juice to go along with it. Do you have bacon?"


"Da," she answered back, "We have milk on the top and some bacon in the little drawer."


Sighing, Olga rubbed on her still tender chest for a moment while Matt retrieved the ingredients.


"Everyone is trying to help me and I go out and put myself at great risk because I am rash and impulsive. I have made of myself a complete ass."


"You wouldn't be the first," Matt grunted as he poured her a glass of milk, "For any of that. Olga, nobody's telling you not to feel upset or try to cope with it. That doesn't entirely excuse what you did last night, but it's understandable. It's not like you hurt anybody... Aside from yourself, that is, and you've already punished yourself for that."


Olga looked up at him and saw a grin on the gruff little man's face. For once, his intense green eyes glinted with mild amusement.


The Russian woman took the glass of milk and drank down several mouthfuls, thirstier than she had initially thought. She wiped her lips with the side of her hand and smiled back, placing the glass back down on the counter.


"You sound like a man I knew once, a very long time ago...almost a lifetime ago. He was always there with an encouraging word and good advice. He helped me when I first discovered I had these...my old powers. It was a difficult time for me, to go from simple farm-girl on kolkhoz to a woman who had to relearn how to open a door without ripping it from hinges."


Mattock took the glass and refilled it, placing it on the counter before turning to fix Olga a breakfast. He retrieved the bacon, placed the package on the counter and rifled through the cupboards and drawers rapidly to locate cooking pans and utensils. Heating a pan on a stove, he swabbed the cooking surface with butter before slapping a slice of bread on it.


"I don't know how to feel about resembling an old friend, but if I can help, I'm here for ya. "


He fired up another pan and started cooking the bacon slices on it. As they sizzled, he retrieved lettuce and tomatoes from the refrigerator's vegetable crisper, a knife from a stand on the counter and deftly proceeded to carve through them, chopping the lettuce up into small pieces and the tomato into thin slices. As soon as he was done, he turned back to the bread slices and flipped them, then checked on the bacon. As he did, he continued talking.


"So. When we talked last night, I asked what you were celebrating. Now, you told me in a unique manner, but that clearly wasn't what you were drinking for. I grew up with alcoholics, my entire hometown is practically run on booze. My dad, my friends' dads, a lot of my friends... I know well the difference between drinking because you enjoy life and drinking to ignore it. So... This supervillain has taken your powers and, for at least a brief time, you get to see what the rest of the world lives like again. I take it your friends are keeping you from helping in the investigation?"


As he waited for Olga's answer, he turned back to the stove to stir the bacon around.


"Da, you are correct." Olga nodded, screwing up her lip as she thought back to her one-sided battle with Atomica. "Only a few know what happened so I was to be kept here for my own protection. My Возлюбленный took away all the alcohol and she has been out trying to help, leaving O.D.I.N. to watch me."


The former WWII super-soldier hung her head in frustration as she continued, "I cannot lift my weights, I cannot go outdoors, I cannot have anything to drink, I cannot help anyone around me...I could not deal with it Mattock. I had to get out of this place."


"And that's understandable," the blonde man said as he started cobbling together the sandwich, "You felt like a prisoner in your own life, trapped inside your very skin. Your wife will probably be upset with you, but she'll understand. This isn't something that is going to ruin your relationship, and it isn't going to diminish you in the eyes of those you care about."


He placed the bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich in front of Olga on a paper plate. Despite its simplicity, it actually looked quite appetizing. The still-sizzling bacon had a particularly alluring aroma.


"Odin filled me in that you were supposed to have 'conquered your alcoholism,' so I'm not gonna tell you that there won't be any arguments in store for your future. Just know that when your friends and family are yelling at you, it's because they're concerned, too, and they don't really know how else to demonstrate that than to harp on a poor choice made in exasperation."


The WWII veteran picked up the sandwich and took a large bite, savoring both the taste and the aroma. She nodded to him as she chewed before swallowing and continuing the conversation.


"I shall add solid cooking to your growing list of skills Mattock, and I understand what you are saying. I worked hard to not drink for a long time, but one does not simply cure alcoholism. I am certain Maia and I will have...interesting conversation."


As she took a second bite she motioned down at her chest with a resigned look.


"That BLT is probably the best I can do," Mattock grunted with a sardonic grin, "Aside from a peppered, broiled steak. As for your recent body modification... You've really gotta stop looking for ways to beat yourself up. Do you even remember what you were thinking when you did that? Was it an option before you lost your powers? Maybe you had a brief moment of inspiration during the course of the wager. After all, I wasn't kidding when I said you were quite proud of the piercings last night."


He gestured to the ceiling in the direction from where he'd last heard the AI's voice.


"I'm sure Odin could do a playback if we asked."


Olga couldn't help herself and giggled, covering her mouth with both hands like she was back in elementary school.


"No I will take your words for it Mattock! I honestly do not remember much more than a few arm-wrestles and then waking up with these. I suppose it will be up to my Возлюбленный if they stay. What did you think of them?"


The last question was asked with a wink as she took another bite of the cooling sandwich. However, all he did was shrug and turn to cleaning up the mess he made while preparing breakfast.


"I don't think of them. My mentor taught me pretty rigorously about things like honor and Bushido, but in the end, he drilled it into me to make my own sense of the world, as Bushido honor often led to ridiculous situations. He used the tale of the Forty-Seven Ronin as an example. So, when it comes to body modification, my only thought is 'Are you happy with it?' Most people are in the moment. Others come to regret the decision later in life, like with tattoos. Piercings are temporary, though. Leave them unadorned, they'll fill in. So, that's what I think. If you want my critique, then I think they're pretty, and they suit you, but they're a little tacky. They're goofy ornaments you don't need, but it makes you smile, and you've been preciously low on those as of late."


Olga nodded. "Well I cannot argue with you there and perhaps they will make my wife smile, if only for a bit, and as you say I can always take them out."


The Russian woman suddenly stood up, putting her sandwich back on its plate and walked over to McGinty, embracing him tightly.


"I always knew I was right about you Mattock, from that time you were my guest recovering here until now. I believed you were a good man, and a noble warrior, remember, and I was not wrong."


Mattock hugged Olga back.


"You'll get through this," he said as he reached up to pat her back, "And even in the unlikely event you don't get your powers back, you'll find a way to help people again. I don't think anybody can take that from you. And we're all here for you, all of your friends, willing to lend a hand, a friendly ear or a friendly word. Because we know you would do or have done the same for us."


He broke the hug and turned back to finishing cleaning up the breakfast dishes. He gestured to the half-eaten sandwich.


"For now, you should finish that up. Your eyes still look bloodshot. When you're finished, we'll see how you're feeling, maybe get you a couple ibuprofen, and drop by Guardian hall to see if we can help gather evidence on this Atom Woman character who did this to you."


To be continued...

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A big thanks to my old friend for this incredible artwork!

The story was written by myself and

The much-mentioned Walkiria belongs to the lovely

Mattock McGinty is the property of the ever-awesome

Soviet Superwoman & Atomica are my creations and properties.

This story takes place in