Chapter 13
“Tiff, hold that thought.”
Victoria’s eyes lit up like she’d come up with a real hare-brained scheme and she held up a finger to stop Tiff from complaining as she quickly got out of the car. Victoria took two huge strides, bounding up to their front door, and yelled inside.
“Mom, I’m going out for a drive!”
Melissa’s powerful voice floated back out.
“Are you going to be eating with us?”
“Yes! Oh, and I’m taking Tiff with me!”
“Is she done with her homework?”
Victoria glanced back at Tiff, who blanched. She shook her head and answered.
“No.”
Victoria nodded in understanding.
“Yes!”
“Alright. As long as you’re back by 6!”
“We will be!”
Victoria flew back into the car and slammed her door behind her. She grinned back at Tiff mischievously.
“Are you gonna sit back there and let me chauffeur you around? Or are you going to sit up here with me?”
Tiff rolled her eyes and quickly relocated herself.
“I’m not done, you know,” she sighed, buckling in.
“Yeah, but Mom wouldn’t let you go, and you’re not gonna tell her yes.”
“But Tori, what are we actually doing?”
“I dunno!” Victoria said cheerily. “I just thought it would do you good to get out and clear your head. Tiff, you just Awakened, and you’ve been nothing but a tight ball of yarn.”
“And you think going for a drive will help me relax?”
“You’d be surprised,” Victoria grinned.
The thing about Victoria, and now that Tiff thought about it, Amy and her Mom too, was that they were all very free-spirited. She felt a sudden rush of affection for their dad, trying his best to keep a level head in a sea of madness. Tiff must have inherited her stoicism from him.
As Victoria said, they did just…drive around. Tiff really did think her sister had an ulterior plan hidden beneath her smile, but as they turned down random streets and drove through various parking lots, it became clear Victoria was very much going with the flow. She pointed out random places as they drove, either familiar landmarks both of them took for granted, or else something Victoria must have discovered in all her travels. They parked along a shady street next to a golf course and watched a group of four tee off…to very mixed results.
“That guy ain’t a [Golfer],” Victoria shook her head.
“Yes, but he gets to drive the golf cart,” Tiff said sagely.
“True,” Victoria agreed. Both girls stared at the golf cart, more interested in it than the golfers themselves. There was something to be said for golf carts. They were like…magical little cars. Or so they seemed to Tiff.
After a few minutes, Victoria drove them on. They passed by her guild, and Tiff wondered if it was possible to utilize the same cloaking technology the Roughnecks used to hide their office in plain sight. Honestly, Victoria didn’t know. The office had been there for a very long time and she didn’t know who built it. She wasn’t sure whether it was a pioneer of engineering from the mid-1850s or as recent as their parents’ generation. For all she knew, the guild had always been there, but it only got a mundane facelift from the property manager recently. Either way, as fascinating as it was, they couldn’t stick Tiff’s core inside. Not all of her coworkers were as bright on the Greyscale as Victoria was; they’d find it for sure.
Their next stop saw them cruising downtown. In comparison to Downtown LA, there weren’t any towering skyscrapers. The biggest building was actually a vacant, multi-story complex that was supposed to be a hotel, but the owners pulled out when they realized the proposed shopping center around it didn’t quite fit their clientele. Several offices rented out a few of the floors, but strangely, the abandoned look didn’t drive away everyone else. Some hoodlums had taken it upon themselves to scale the 10-story building and graffiti the top 4 floors. Either somebody in city planning was secretly a fan of abstract art, or they crunched the numbers and realized how much money it would cost to clean up, so they left it. The neighborhood rolled with the “urban grunge” look and built a trendy outlet mall full of places that sold ripped shirts and jeans that had gone through the wash one too many times.
Victoria eventually pulled them into the parking lot of the old wax museum. The place had long since closed down, and Tiff couldn’t remember if there was ever a point in her lifetime that it was actually open. Part of her wondered if breaking in and placing her core among the wax dummies would keep it safe…but that would mean she’d need to wander through the terrifying place if she ever wanted to visit it.
“Why don’t they do something with this place?” Tiff asked as she fought off a case of the shivers. Just because she couldn’t be intimidated by other people didn’t mean she couldn’t scare herself witless. “If they can’t reopen it, why don’t they sell it? I’m sure somebody would want to buy it. It’s on the main road! Or at the very least bulldoze it. Just thinking about wax people frozen in the darkness gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“I don’t really know,” Victoria answered. “Maybe they can’t? It might be a historic monument. Years and years ago, a real-life villain made this place their lair. They had the power to bring their creations to life; they had a whole army of wax soldiers. I think that was back in the 30s. Several horror movies were filmed here from the 50s to 80s; one of them might have started as a documentary.”
“Tori,” Tiff asked hesitantly. “What exactly does it mean to be a Villain? I used to think the Greyscale was very black-and-white, but now…I don’t know what to think.”
“Oof,” Victoria sighed, leaning back in her seat. “That’s a loaded question. Most people would agree with you that Heroes and Villains can be labeled as good and evil. I don’t think it’s so cut-and-dry. I don’t know who said it, if I was reading a book or listening to the tv, but I heard something interesting once. Most Villains think they are doing the right thing. With the exception of legitimate psychopaths like serial killers and people who simply want to watch the world burn, most people are trying to do what they can to make the world a ‘better’ place.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not justifying some of the most atrocious behavior humanity has ever seen. But in their minds, they are doing what they think is right for humanity. And, to some of them, they think they’re the only ones willing to take that extra step and do what typical Heroes aren’t willing to do. You take away the morality of a Hero and a Villain, and really you’re just left with two people willing to fight for their ideals.”
Tiff slumped in her seat and Victoria gave her a wry smile.
“I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear. The world’s a messy place, and that’s not even getting into how Vigilantes fit into everything. What do you do with a Hero who’s willing to kill somebody to stop a bad guy? Are they really a hero? What do you do with cops? For a profession that, on paper, is supposed to do good, to serve and protect the innocent, there’s a lot of messed-up police out there. It’s not as simple as when we were kids, dreaming about becoming [Fire Fighters] or [Astronauts].”
“I thought the system wouldn’t let a Hero kill people,” Tiff frowned. Victoria shook her head.
“Not all Heroes are ‘heroes’. Not a single person on this planet can accurately be judged on appearances alone. That’s how you end up with labels and stereotypes. Plenty of real-life Heroes are rotten to the core and don’t deserve their lofty title. But when talking about people abusing their power in the worst of ways, the system won’t let them get too far.
“We’ve got laws that allow for ‘sacrifices for the greater good’ during extreme circumstances, and lawyers are really good at muddying the waters between what’s right and wrong. Technicalities and good publicity can take you places. But the System has its own idea for what’s acceptable and what isn’t.
“A Hero isn’t ever going to get away with literal murder. Even if top journalists try excusing it with Pulitzer Prize-worthy sophistry and wordplay, the System won’t care. If a Hero actively makes the conscious decision to kill somebody else, even in a dire situation like facing off against a Supervillain threatening the lives of millions of people, the System won’t let them continue being a Hero after taking ‘the easy way’ out. At best they’d be shifted to a Vigilante, which is the top-end of Neutral on the Greyscale, and at worst their Class would change entirely to ‘Murderer’.”
“So,” Tiff nodded seriously, “What does that actually mean?”
“It means we live in a messy world, kiddo,” Victoria sighed. She ruffled the top of Tiff's head while they stared at the run-down facade of the Wax Museum, before eventually moving on.
Victoria drove them past several interesting places, such as the small strip of storefronts connected to Knott’s Berry Farm that all had that “Old West” theme going on, before rounding around through Downtown Disney, or at least the small part they could drive through, and calling it a day.
Tiff amused herself with all the places she could stick her core, though none of them were very serious. She couldn’t place it in an amusement park, if for no other reason than that those places hired private security of their own and she’d get sniffed out in a heartbeat. The tallest buildings they passed weren’t skyscrapers, and they couldn’t even really be called “towers”. As a Supervillain, it would not do if her penthouse lair wasn’t the tallest building around.
They couldn’t even lock it securely in a bank…because Tiff was only 16 and didn’t have a vault. She didn’t even have her own account, let alone a safety deposit box, which was more than she could afford to pay for monthly anyway. She’d need to resort to crime just to pay to keep her core safe.
Now that Tiff was thinking about it, villainy was an expensive occupation. First, she needed a secure place to put her core. That meant a lair protected by underlings. Hired thugs couldn’t be cheap. Where did one find legitimate minions, anyway? Was there a job agency out there helping unemployed lackeys? Maybe they’d give her a discount since she was a Supervillain.
“Hey, how about we pick up dessert for everyone?” Victoria asked. Tiff shook herself from her thoughts and perked up.
“Ice cream?” She asked, hopeful. Actually, how about they skip dinner entirely and just eat ice cream?
“Maybe,” Victoria laughed. “It depends on what they’ve got. I was thinking of swinging by the convenience store down the street.”
Tiff agreed. If she wasn’t allowed to drown her sorrows in a gallon of rocky road, the convenience store was a good second choice.
Sometimes, in the middle of the summer when Victoria had a day off, she would walk her little sisters down to the little strip mall two blocks over. It only took them a few minutes to walk there and they could waste so much time.
Unfortunately, other people also liked to hang around the shop. Their neighborhood had a couple of small-time gangs, nothing worth the authorities cracking down on, but all the stores had bars across their windows and iron shutters they could bring down after they closed.
The convenience store was an off-brand 7-11, called a “24-Heaven.” It was on the corner, sandwiching a laundromat between a tuxedo alteration place and, on the other end, a location that frequently cycled through businesses and was currently a to-go Chinese food place that also served donuts. They were open from 4 in the morning until just after 1 pm, so Tiff wasn’t sure how long they would last.
The 24-Heaven was a bit special because it was more than a simple liquor mart. It really did embody the “convenience” of a convenience store, having a tiny bit of everything. There was, of course, all the booze in the coolers against the back wall and a few sections of tobacco products behind the counter, but it also had an aisle of greeting cards and stationery, as if somebody was really going to waltz in there and find a get-better-soon card to send to somebody after they got mugged.
More importantly, it had a row of pre-made foods like sandwiches, hot dogs, cheap burgers, and ramen that could be tossed into a microwave. And, to top it off, there was a slurpee machine with four flavors and a froyo dispenser that was perpetually out of order. Outside, they had two tables with chairs that were bolted to the ground, and along the wall visible through the window, next to the atm and the scratchers vending machine, were two old arcades. A Street Fighter machine and an NBA Jam.
Sometimes the sisters would march down there with pockets full of allowance and fritter away all their hard-earned cash. It might be a drink, a bite to eat, or a few rounds on one of the games. But, regardless of what they did, what mattered was when they were allowed to do it. Victoria never took them after 3 pm, which was why they only walked down in the summer when they could come earlier.
Because, in a neighborhood with little to do and even slimmer prospects of the future, this little strip mall was a hang out place for the more unscrupulous types too.
Victoria frowned as they got out of her car, but said nothing as they passed a pile of bmx bikes piled up against the wall next to the entrance. This was supposed to be a quick stop, in and out. Tiff inched closer to her sister as they both walked to the frozen section, perusing the dozen or so pints of ice cream.
Tiff picked out one she thought Amy might enjoy, one she wouldn’t mind sharing, while Victoria chose one for their parents, and they moved to get in line. Several boys, the owners of those bikes outside, were leaning on the counter, clearly pestering the clerk.
They didn’t have any merchandise and they clearly weren’t purchasing anything, so Tiff tapped her foot impatiently as they continued to loiter in the way.
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t that they weren’t making a purchase, but they were testing and failing to convince the clerk to sell them cigarettes. None of the kids looked older than 21, either being recent graduates or dropouts, but none of them had a valid ID. One of them had something Tiff guessed was a fake ID, but when he tried passing it off as real, that’s when the clerk finally told them off and threatened to call the cops. Fortunately, they left with loud grumbles but little confrontation. Victoria stepped up, keeping one eye on the door and a hand on Tiff’s shoulder, but made no comment except to pay for their goods. They stuffed their goods into a crappy plastic bag and headed back to the car.
Tif was not surprised when the group of boys stood in their way as they opened the door.
“Hey bro, wanna help us out?”
Tiff nearly rolled her eyes as the leader of the boys squared himself up against Victoria. She stood head and shoulders above the kid and he was built like a stick.
“I think you’re better off looking elsewhere,” Victoria said diplomatically, though Tiff was surprised Victoria didn’t tell them off.
“Come on, don’t be that way,” one of the boys said, taking a step forward, and that’s what set her sister off.
“Careful, friend,” Victoria clearly threatened as she squared her shoulders, set her hips, and hunched forward. “I’m registered. Don’t go biting off more than you can chew.”
The boys quickly backed off, muttering nonsense under their breath, and Victoria pushed Tiff gently but firmly in front of her toward the car. Victoria didn’t move herself from between Tiff and the boys until Tiff was securely in the car. Tiff sat, feeling a little surreal at how calm she was, as Victoria entered beside her.
“What was that?” Tiff asked as they quickly pulled away. “Not that I wanted you to get into a fight, but I’m surprised you didn’t. You’ve been a bit protective since I Awakened.”
“Well, that’s part of it,” Victoria sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d have happily put the smack down if some idiots thought they’d try something. But if I did, and somebody reported it, I could get called into question as a Meta and chances are none of those kids are. Had to make my intent known first. Granted, if one of them had done something stupid, like reached for you, I’d say balls to that and would have intervened. None of those jokers are a threat; I’ve seen them around. Actually, it’s not them I’m worried about.”
Tiff looked at her sister expectantly and Victoria eventually explained.
“Tiff, I know you don’t watch a ton of tv, but there’s a few tropes that get used in dramas that actually exist in real life.”
“Like amnesia?” Tiff asked, thinking of daytime soap operas and young masters sitting in hospital beds gazing out of windows forlornly.
“Well, that’s a real thing, but it’s a lot more rare than Hollywood would make you think,” Victoria chuckled. Then she got serious. “I’m talking about gangs.”
“Well, yeah,” Tiff nodded. “I know about gangs.”
It was true, if slightly unpleasant. Their parents made sure to drill into the girls what tracks not to cross.
“No,” Victoria shook her head. “I’m not talking about the preppy upstarts. Those kids? They’re nothing. Probably some stoners looking to get a fix here or there. None of those kids has the guts to take a life. They wouldn’t know what to do with a gun if one hit them in the face. I’m talking about [Enforcers]. People who’ve worked their way through the System to get some boosts or buffs and use that power to intimidate and extort people.”
Visions of old mafia movies invaded Tiff’s brain and something clicked. A smiling Victoria with a pinstripe suit and a tilted fedora appeared in her mind, tapping a finger threateningly as she leaned over the counter of a flower shop.
It’d be a real shame if something were to happen to this place, imaginary Victoria said in a very bad Chicago accent. Accidents are expensive and these glass windows don’t look cheap.
Tiff slowly turned to stare at her sister.
“Victoria VanDyne,” Tiff said through narrowed eyes. “Are you running a protection racket?”
No, Victoria wasn’t, but she stared at Tiff in disbelief, almost swerving onto the sidewalk because she wasn’t paying attention to the road, and then proceeded to laugh her butt off.
Tiff smiled sheepishly, and was only half joking as she explained her revelation that Victoria was in on it all along. There was the fact that she’d completed a quest and gotten a level up after becoming Tiff’s bodyguard, and Tiff, as a Supervillain, was offering System quests to local ruffians. Clearly, Victoria was slipping down the dark side. Punching monsters wasn’t good enough, so she traded her guild membership for brass knuckles and she was fleecing the local shops.
As long as Victoria provided her with a cut, Tiff would turn a blind eye. She was magnanimous; she would only take 10 percent of the core cream earnings.
Victoria laughed harder, saying Tiff watched too many movies and played too many games. Victoria was perfectly happy with her current employment…though that reminded her that she really did need to go back to work soon. Since Tiff was well enough to go back to school and Victoria couldn’t follow her down the classroom halls, it was time to go back. The arrangement was supposed to last only a week, and Victoria originally proposed it so she could take Tiff to get Assessed. Since everything seemed calm and quiet, Victoria was feeling relaxed.
“Mom,” Tiff slid up to Melissa in the kitchen after dinner. The meal was peaceful and mundane, a complete reversal from last week. Life was finally getting back on track, but Tiff’s quest was still bugging her. She’d ruled out trying to sneak into heavily guarded areas to place her core down, and most other options seemed unreasonable too. She couldn’t leave it unattended or in an openly public place. In the same vein, she didn’t want to simply drive into the middle of nowhere and drop it off in the wilderness. In fact, it seemed like her options were pretty nonexistent.
“Yeah, munch?” Melissa replied. “Hand me that container, will you?”
Tiff obeyed, more out of habit than anything. Melissa’s weekend was over and she was getting ready to go back to work. That meant cooking up meals she could throw in her lunchbox that could keep for several days on the road. Tiff always found it fascinating how many pounds of pork chops could be stuffed into a vacuum-sealed bag. Melissa was a large woman and needed plenty of meat and veggies, and her lunchbox was closer to a cooler than something Tiff would bring to school. And, with the power of technology, something like a gallon of mashed potatoes could be squished into a small, lumpy cube.
“Are we ever planning on moving?”
Melissa paused in the middle of washing a large bowl, letting the water run continually over her hands.
“No?” Melissa quirked an eyebrow and gave Tiff a lopsided smile. “Why? Are you tired of the neighborhood? Well, you’re stuck with it, I'm afraid.”
“That’s fine,” Tiff nodded, “I was just thinking that moving sounds like such a pain.”
“Hmm,” Melissa nodded. “It can be.” She eyed her smallest daughter with a pitying eye. “Especially if you aren’t built for carrying boxes.”
“Ugh,” Tiff groaned.
Truthfully, she wasn’t considering moving herself so much as something that couldn’t be moved. She was down to a little more than one full day left on her quest. 35 hours and some change remained.
“Not even, like, out east? Where grandma and grandpa VanDyne live?”
Melissa’s parents went their own way years ago and didn’t keep in contact with their daughter or her family. Tiff hasn’t even met her maternal grandparents. Her dad’s parents, however, had a nice little place in a small town in Arizona. It was far enough away to be a novelty whenever they visited, but not so close that they overstayed their welcome. The only problem was that Lake Havasu was something of a retirement community, so far as Tiff and her sisters were concerned, and therefore, was boring.
Even if it did have the original London Bridge.
“Too hot,” Melissa laughed, and Tiff nodded enthusiastically. 110-degree desert summers were a big no thank you. At least it wasn’t humid. Tiff couldn’t understand how people functioned in places like the east coast.
Actually, that was mostly just Florida.
Tiff was convinced, for many years, that Florida Man was a real person. She assumed he was a villain, and a really dumb one too, for how much stupid trouble he always seemed to get into.
“Besides, Momma and Poppa are fun to visit, but they need their bingo time.”
“Old people,” Tiff sighed dramatically.
“Watch it, squirt,” Melissa teased. “That’ll be you someday.”
“It’s almost you, Mom.”
“I’ll have you know I’ve got decades before I’m old,” Melissa said with a huff. “And just because you said that, I won’t share my bingo winnings.”
“Noooo,” Tiff proclaimed dramatically. “Mom, how could you?”
“Thems the breaks, kiddo,” Melissa pronounced. “I’ve got other children who can care for me when I’m decrepit.”
“Like Amy?” Tiff asked innocently, watching her sister trying to sneak somewhere in her pajamas. Tiff didn’t know what Amy was up to and she decided she didn’t want to know. Her family was incomprehensible sometimes.
Melissa turned and set her gaze on the youngest VanDyne, making Amy freeze like a deer caught in headlights.
“Maybe not Amy,” Melissa declared. “She’ll disassemble my walker. Tiff, you’re back in.”