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Tales from Silicon City: Saving Valentine's Day

By Psion

All Rights Reserved

Silicon City, hardly a nexus of love and good vibes. Once the epicenter of the dot.com and tech booms, all that remains is a faded shadow of its former glories. As the economy declined, crime rose as the desperate and the depraved alike sought their fortunes through more underhanded methods. But the situation was not completely hopeless; deeds of heroism great and small kept a diminutive flame of hope alight where there would otherwise be none. Yet as the day of Saint Valentine approached, one heroine was having a very bad day...

"Well... this is probably going to wreck my holiday plans." Rivetgal said to no one in particular as she sat in the middle of a steel cage, stripped down to her underwear and bereft of her armor, weapon, and gadgets. Normally, Rivetgal was a regular kick-butt gadgeteer in the employ of the Department of Superhero Affairs, the kind of heroine who normally put a boot in the ass of two-bit supervillains that got off from this sort of thing. Unfortunately, her currently absent captor was not that sort of villain and even the mightiest have days where the dice simply refuse to roll their way. Today was apparently the blond Golden Labrador's day to catch the distress ball.

Composing herself, the armored canine heroine closed her pale blue eyes and tried to think, the engineer's mind tried to focus on the problem at hand to try and come up with a solution. But all she could think about was her boyfriend Jonathan McQueen, one of the Australian supers that visited the States from time to time. They had made plans for the holiday, just a little getaway to a place along the northern coast of Australia for the two of them; nothing but her, him, a little beach house, and miles of South Pacific beach all around them. Grimacing and shaking her head, she fought to focus on the quandary of her captivity but part of her knew it was hopeless. Figures the first villain to successfully spring this damsel in distress bullshit on her was a villain that actually did his homework. No ropes, no chains, nothing that would cause her any permanent harm over a long period of time, just a cage to ensure she stayed exactly where he left her.

Could have been worse though, her captor could have been from the Aphrodite City school of villainy, subjecting her to whips, chains, and perverted power fantasies befitting the kind of morons that put badly-written BDSM romance novels on the Best Sellers list.. God, no wonder the Aphrodite Five were likely a bunch of PTSD victims by now, the All-American Inventor couldn't imagine going through this again and again like she was trapped in a temporal loop. Guess there was only one thing left to do... As a woman of science, Rivetgal didn't necessarily put a great deal of stock in faith. But as she was unable to come up with an immediate solution that didn't involve at least one other person, perhaps it didn't hurt to pray for one small miracle. Little did she know that there actually was a deity in the house, just not the one she was addressing her request to.

Cloud Nine didn't even begin to describe how Fred was feeling at the moment. Finally, after years of taking untold amounts of verbal abuse from the rest of the supervillain community he had done the one thing none of the so-called "big shots" had been able to pull off. Mobsters, old-school supervillains, evil geniuses, none of them managed to trap that do-gooder of do-gooders, the legendary Rivetgal, but he had, he had her trapped in his dungeon. Now all he needed to do was to off her in an appropriately dramatic fashion and broadcast it to the world. Unfortunately, it appeared that all his brilliant planning had been spent on capturing her and now that he had her... he wasn't quite sure what to do with her. One of his henchmen had suggested molesting her but the black armored overlord dismissed the idea and its contributor out of hand with a stunning blast from his power gauntlet. Even if the mustelid supervillain was into canines, the idea was just so classless that it made him ill just thinking about it. He was a supervillain now damn it, there was an etiquette to how one was supposed to handle these things. Just because he was a malicious bastard that was secretly plotting to set the world on fire and laugh manically as all the filth that dared call themselves "people" writhed in agony didn't mean that he didn't have his priorities straight. Rambling idiots that didn't properly plan out their violence beforehand became the protagonists of controversial yet simplistic video games, not proper supervillains. Rivetgal's capture was just the first step of his master plan to bath the world in a new Dark Age of devastation and destruction, watch the planet burn itself to a cinder from the safety of his underground fortress...

He still hadn't come up with a solution to his problem when warning klaxons started going off in his command center. The perimeter alarms had been set off, someone had come to try and steal his hard-won prize away from him. Like clockwork, the minions on duty quickly cycled through the available security feeds until they found the intrusion, displaying it on the towering main screen occupying the entire back wall. Fred blinked as his brain tried to process the impossible scene playing out in front of him. Granted his despicable empire of call centers, infomercial studios, and factories pumping out diet supplements of dubious quality wasn't exactly high on the list of "evil things all supervillains can do to raise money" but he was certain the DSA would have sent more then a single, gaudily-dressed heroine to foil his plans.

The intruder was... at first Fred wasn't even sure where he should even begin describing her. She was a vixen, a sultry red fox temptress dressed in a hot pink unitard with matching gloves and boots, a bright red utility belt providing the only contrast to the deluge of pink. The body inside this costume was built like a beautifully carved fertility idol, very heavy-set but with the majority of her weight focused above and below the waist. Even with all the cosmetic body modifications people could get these days, Fred was fairly certain there was some kind of sorcery involved with this female's measurements. An observation supported by how she easily she dispatched the security forces sent after her.

Despite being clad in a costume that wasn't even remotely practical for dealing with close to two-dozen armed goons with assault rifles, not a single bullet so much as grazed her perfect flesh, the few of his loyal soldiers that managed to get off a shot didn't get the chance to fire a second. Winking at her opponents and regarding them with a sultry toss of her long red hair, her gaze paralyzed the entire contingent sent to subdue her. Most just stood idly, grinning like fools as she sauntered past, but then there were the few she did pay attention to. A kiss with her puffy, pouty lips to one, a rubbing of her hip against the crotch of another, if Fred's henchmen were capable of literally melting before her he was certain they would be right now.

Unhindered, the mysterious intruder continued on her way down the underground corridors of his base. Broad hips swayed like a seductive metronome as the vixen slowly walked deeper into the compound. Fred watched studiously from the command center, making a note of her powers. Some sort of telepathy or mind control was at work here, that much was clear. But what were her limits? More importantly, who was she? The weasel knew of a wide range of superheroes from Rivetgal to the Dough Girls and he never heard of a heroine with this ability before.

And then his uninvited guest finally found the hidden camera and stared directly at it. Fred felt his pulse quicken as his gaze fell into those beautiful cherry red eyes, two soulful pools that made him feel like his soul was being laid bare. In an instant all of his disappointments and misfortunes in romance flashed before his eyes, all the first dates he was stood up at, the prom date that ditched him for the captain of the football team... all of it played back in an endless loop. But none of that mattered; he could tell from the look in her eyes that she could feel his pain. He could have gone up to her and rested his chin on her pillowy breasts and she would pat him on the head, stroke his hair, and tell him it was okay. His minions in the control room were in a similar state, either lustfully watching her with their tongues lolled out or staring spellbound with a more platonic form of desire, finding themselves unable to break her gaze.

Finally summoning the mental strength to break her spell, his bubbling hatred providing a source of resistance to her charm abilities, he shook his head and asked the only question on his mind. "Who the hell are you?"

As if she heard him, the mysterious attacker giggled and whispered a name before disappearing from view, Amora. Overlord Fred blinked in recognition, he had heard rumors of a heroine by that name but thought it was a joke; a guardian of love, what utter nonsense. Except that this utter nonsense was currently walking her way down the stone hallways of his lair uncontested and into his command center. Standing in front of her, Fred could see why his loyal minions faltered before. The camera didn't do her powers justice; standing here in front of her they were hit with the full force of her mental abilities. His minions were completely useless, it appeared that the simple-minded loyalty he fostered into his legions allowed her to mentally dominate them to the point of paralysis. Only Fred, with his wellspring of hatred fostered by years of disappointment and broken dreams, could withstand her powers for any length of time. Yet even his resolve was wavering before her soft gaze, growing weaker with every slow, alluring step she took towards him.

Her long, paintbrush tail swished mischievously as Amora sauntered up with a sway of her abundant hips. Breasts bigger then the heroine's head squished against the metal plating of his armor as she looked up at him with those soft, soulful puppy eyes of hers. "Can I please have the key to Rivetgal's cell Mr. Evil Overlord?" She asked coyly with a strange glint in her eyes as she gazed into his brown eyes.

Anyone else, Fred would have laughed and smacked them with the back of his armored hand. But resisting Amora's power was just too much even for him, the weasel's brain began to seize up like an old car engine as the vixen pulled him in close. The last things the vile overlord remembered before blacking out was feebly pawing the pouch on his belt that held the key to the All-American Inventor's cell and the Guardian of Love kissing him on the lips. As the vulpine temptress locked lips with him, his mind began to cloud with a whirling typhoon of emotions and questions. Why was he doing this? What did this really accomplish? Questions he was going to dwell on long after he woke back up.

Rivetgal had just barely managed to fashion a crude lock pick out of a paperclip when the cell door was opened. The canine frantically doubled back before realizing that the person in the door way wasn't going to attack her, then blinked as she took in the extremely well-curved vixen dressed in pink... a lot of pink. Memories of a file, one barely big enough to justify a manila folder, on a new vigilante filtered through her still-panicked mind. "Amora?" She asked after landing on her feet and looking around for her gear.

The vixen nodded and smiled as she held up the DSA heroine's clothes and equipment. "Nice to finally meet you Rivetgal."

The canine nodded and got dressed, quickly throwing on her equipment before picking up her rifle. "Thanks for your assistance, can you show me the way out?" She replied, tightening her grip on her Rivetgun. Not now, not yet.

The vixen clearly sensed her inner turmoil but chose to say nothing. Turning on her boot heel, she promptly led the other female towards the exit. "So Rivetgal, it's almost Valentine's Day. Do you have any plans for the holiday?" Amora asked as they walked past unconscious guards passed out by the throes of passion, Rivet was quick to make a note of that.

"No." The canine replied quickly, almost too quickly. She didn't share this information with her coworkers at the DSA, why should she tell a vigilante she never met before in her life about Jonathan McQueen? "I'm going to spend the holiday alone in my apartment sprawled out on the couch trying to find something that isn't a sappy romance movie."

Amora smiled. "That's not what your heart says though. But then you always were good at hiding what your heart truly wanted, especially to mommy and granny." She laughed, drawing a suspicious glare from the other female. "Oh don't act so surprised, even the DSA has to know that much about me, the Avatar of The Lady." The vixen countered, rolling her eyes slightly.

"The Lady?" Rivetgal asked, as interested in learning more about the vixen as she was in changing the subject.

"Some called her Aphrodite, others called her Bast... when that bitch Hanthor wasn't trying to muscle in on her turf that is, and others still called her Freya. I have a couple names for her too but that's another story." She explained as they continued through the maze of almost identical corridors, Rivetgal was getting the impression that Amora wasn't exactly thrilled to be a divine avatar. "Anyway, one of my gifts is to look into people's hearts and see their love life. So yes, I can see Jonathan and how you plan on blowing some of your vacation time. Have fun and watch out for the giant spiders, I hear northern Australia is actually very nice this time of year."

"What else did your... patron give you?" Rivetgal asked, still not entirely sure whether or not to believe Amora's powers were the result of a direct connection to a pagan goddess. It wouldn't be the first time a genuine psychic tried to pass off their abilities as some sort of divine gift.

"Well obviously I'm not going to answer that directly but you can probably see a few of my tricks." The vixen began, gesturing to the prone guards in various states of pure bliss as they continued walking towards the exit. "Though I suppose there's no point in denying my biggest gifts though." She smiled, playfully flaunting her hips with the grace of a dancer and giving her abundant breasts a teasing squeeze.

Rivetgal wasn't quite sure how to answer that one. "I see. I guess The Lady has some interesting ideas."

The vulpine guardian laughed. "Don't act so surprised, only idiots and pop culture addicts believe there ever was a skinny love goddess. I mean have you seen some of the Sumerian idols devoted to The Lady's first known appearance? Anyway, we're here." She replied, ending her monolog as the two of them emerged onto the surface.

Rivetgal did her best to smile as she raised her rifle and set it for the immobilizing G.O.O.P. rounds. "Thanks... you know what has to happen next though." She replied grimly. Helpful or not, the DSA had rules about vigilantes, especially about ones with mental powers as strong as what had been displayed here.

Amora was completely unsurprised by Rivetgal's actions. Instead she stared directly into the canine's blue eyes, focusing the full strength of her powers on her sole opponent. On reflex Rivetgal raised her rifle and fought to push back the intrusion she felt creeping into her mind, but already the vixen's power had caused her to hesitate. Sensing her opening, Amora pushed the gun aside and kissed Rivetgal on the lips to complete the infatuation. The canine's gun fell out of her hand, dangling harmlessly by its shoulder strap, as she felt her resistance finally fail. Hands gently caressed the vulpine heroine's generous measurements as the two females kissed. For a brief, fleeting instant, Rivetgal wondered if Jonathan would mind if she showed up with a friend for the weekend. Surely this little piece of pure heaven right here was worth the price of an extra airline seat or two...

Several minutes later, the armored heroine finally came out of her daze with Amora nowhere to be found. Rivetgal had somehow managed to safely wander several miles away from the villain's lair, through dense woodlands, and arrived back where she had hidden the Rivet Mobile. At first it felt like a strange dream, unusual but not unpleasant, but then she felt the pink lipstick on her face....