System Certified Supervillain

Tiff watched her dad’s face carefully as it scrolled through a whole index of emotions. The first was panic…no, that wasn’t quite right. It was something deeper and more concentrated. Like a shrewd calculation of whether the scenario unfolding around them was harmful to his children. She could tell he wasn’t afraid for himself, and Tiff felt light and dizzy knowing that this man, her dad, would do anything to keep her safe.

The second emotion was wariness, or perhaps more accurately, self-preservation. Again, not for himself, but if simply removing him and his family from the area would be the easiest and safest solution.

And then there was conflict. Rick was not like Melissa or Victoria. He wasn’t a Might-based Meta and he couldn’t take on a whole gang of goons by himself and come out without a scratch. And, as a dad, there was no way he was going to send his eldest daughter into a potentially dangerous situation if he could help it. If things came to a fight, he was no better than a common Citizen.

And any mundane Citizen should, by common sense and recommendation from those in power, do nothing. They should flee, make themselves scarce; hunker down and hide; or otherwise remove themselves so they couldn’t become collateral in a Powered struggle.

But Rick wasn’t mundane, and he had the tools necessary to dissolve the tension before it could devolve into chaos.

Tiff watched his face harden momentarily as he burned the image of the thugs into his eyes, but then softened as he turned to his daughters. He seemed to weigh some internal struggle as he stared at Victoria and Amy, but whatever it was, he kept to himself.

“You’re handling this rather well,” he eventually muttered to Tiff, loud enough for her to notice but not so much that her sisters would overhear. In fact, they had already set up the machine and Amy was about to bowl. “I’m proud of you for not panicking. Normally, that’s the first thing an innocent bystander might do when confronted with a potentially dangerous situation, which makes everything so much worse.”

“Hmmm,” Tiff agreed, noncommittally. She watched Amy pick up her heavy ball and exhibit a flawless execution of “granny style” bowling…where she squatted down and rolled the ball between her legs. It quickly strayed off course, fell into the gutter, and knocked down zero pins.

“So what do you want to do about it?” Rick asked. Tiff blinked and stared up at her dad.

“You’re asking me?” Tiff questioned.

“Well, you found them, so I’m curious what your first thoughts would be.”

“Shouldn’t we do something about it?” Tiff asked.

“You, Tiff?” Rick asked. “What would you do if you just discovered something you felt wasn’t right and needed to be corrected? Would you actually go over and confront them?”

“Well, no,” Tiff admitted. She thought it was obvious that she wouldn’t confront a bunch of burly dudes potentially breaking into an ATM. But now that her dad mentioned it, what would she do? What should she do?

“I suppose I’d call the police?” Tiff asked. She wasn’t exactly entirely sure what to do, to be honest.

“That’s-“

“Dad! Tiff! What are you guys doing?” Amy called out. “It’s Tiff’s turn!”

“We were just doing a thought exercise in unexpected encounters,” Rick said with a smile. His expression didn’t change at all, but he turned to Victoria, and something she saw must have alerted her that something wasn’t right. Her smile slowly turned into a frown as she put the ball she was fiddling with back in the rack.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” Rick said with a weak chuckle. “It looks like I forgot to charge my phone and it’s almost dead. Fortunately, I normally carry a power brick with me. Tori, can you go to the car and pick one up? Actually, better make that two. There’s a black one and a blue one. Take Amy with you, will you?”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Victoria nodded quickly. “Come on, Shorty. Let’s go.”

Amy started slapping her big sister because of the nickname, but otherwise didn’t complain as she hopped up and followed Victoria back toward the exit. Tiff waited until they were out of earshot before whispering to her dad.

“Is your phone really dead? Why’d you send Tori away? Shouldn’t she be more useful here?”

“No,” Rick shook his head. “My phone’s fine. And I don’t have a blue brick in the van.”

“So why’d you ask Tori to pick one up?”

“To get Amy out of here,” Rick said grimly. “Normally I’d do the same with you. But you already know about the situation and you’re remarkably calm…and my gut is telling me to have you stay. I think Victoria picked up that I wanted Amy out of the bowling alley. The blue bank is just an excuse to have them look longer before they get suspicious or come back. So that just leaves us with the original question: now that we suspect something bad is about to happen, what do we want to do about it?”

“What can we do?” Tiff asked with a tilt of her head. If it was just herself, there was nothing she could do, and if it was only her dad, she didn’t know how much better that would make it.

“We have options,” Rick said cheerfully, and it struck Tiff as odd how calmly her dad was taking this. She had the benefit of her Skill, but her dad was basically an overpowered Citizen. While he worked for some heroes, he wasn’t one himself. Like Melissa, Rick was a Sidekick.

“Normally,” Rick said as he got out his phone and started fiddling around. “A bystander in our shoes would do one of three things. A: They might be oblivious and not notice anything. B: They might panic, alert the crooks, and cause a situation. People could get hurt, or in the best of cases, they’d end up as a hostage.”

“That’s…not ideal,” Tiff frowned.

“Right,” Rick chuckled. “And then there’s C. They keep their heads down, call the cops, and let the authorities handle it.”

“Well, that’s what we do, right?” Tiff asked. Rock shook his head.

“We can. And we might! But we have other options. We know there’s a problem, but we don’t know what we’re up against. We can simply remove ourselves from the situation.”

Tiff’s frown deepened. That option didn’t sit well with her. It was reasonable, smart, and most of all, safe. But didn’t those with power have a responsibility to help those without?

…or had she been reading too many of Amy’s comic books?

“That doesn’t sound right,” Tiff shook her head.

“The last option is doing something ourselves,” Rick said with a lopsided smile.

“But, Dad, what can we do? I’m not Tori and you’re not Mom.”

“It’s for the best,” Rick laughed. “This way, we might still have a bowling alley left standing afterward.”

“But we can’t confront them,” Tiff complained, peeking back at the group. It had only been a few minutes and they were looking just as fidgety, but they hadn’t gotten violent yet. A quick glance at her Quest told her they weren’t making great progress either. Whatever the vague bar represented, it was only up to 3%.

“And I’m not saying we should,” Rick countered. “But that doesn’t mean we’re powerless. So I’ll ask you again. Tiff, what do you want to do? We can go meet your sisters back at the van and go home. Honestly, if this was any more serious than it already is, this wouldn’t be up for debate and we’d already be leaving. Or, I can do something about it.”

“But I don’t want to put you in any danger either,” Tiff said. She hated this. Why did the System have to point out stuff like this? Why did it have to happen to her? Why couldn’t this be like Saturday morning cartoons, when the heroes in bright capes would show up out of nowhere?

…and why were these thugs so bad at their jobs? The progress bar had only moved to 4%, and by now Tiff was fairly certain a competent thief would have either been done and gone or given up and tried to escape.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rick smirked. “I can stop them in their tracks and they won’t ever know it’s me. I barely have to lift a finger! See?”

Rick showed Tiff his phone, and a program was running that Tiff had no idea how to parse. It looked like the classic scene in The Matrix, with all the 1s and 0s cascading down a monitor, while at the bottom a command prompt ran a mile a minute. Just staring at all the lines rushing by in waves made Tiff dizzy.

“What…is that?” She asked, shaking her head.

“Just a little program I whipped up to buy us time,” Rick grinned.

Tiff’s mouth formed a small O as realization dawned. Those people weren't necessarily incompetent…her dad was amazing! But that begged the question: “Wait…why do you have something like that on your phone?”

“You think I have a program dedicated to stopping ATM hacking attempts sitting around on my phone?” Rick almost laughed. Tiff nodded. It made no sense to her, but how else would it get there? “I’m a Techie, Tiff. Whipping up something like this is child’s play.”

“But,” Tiff frowned. She watched her dad type away on the screen like sending a sternly worded text, but she couldn’t keep up.

“Look,” Rick said seriously. “There’s a lot of moving parts in a situation like this. I can’t stop them; only make their lives harder. We’re lucky none of them are Techies; otherwise, they’re bad. How do I know? They aren’t hacking into the machine themselves. They’ve got an interface doing it for them. Which is good for us, because if they were trying to do something physical with the ATM, there’s not much I could do about it. They’d either set off the machine’s safety protocols or they’d be untouchable at a distance. As it stands, whatever they’re using is wireless. I’m slowing them down.”

“Why not stop them entirely?” Tiff asked.

“Because then they’d know something is up,” Rick frowned. “And the risk of them trying something stupid goes through the roof. Right now, their machine thinks it’s cracking the world's biggest code, and all the lights should be green. It just needs time. Time…we will now use.”

Tiff opened her mouth, but Rick held up a finger and put it to his mouth. He dialed a number and put it up to his ear. It only rang for a second or two before it connected.

Tiff couldn’t hear the person on the other end, but her dad was as focused as she’d ever seen him.

“Hey, Liam- look, yeah, it’s after hours, I know, but this is serious. I don’t have much time to explain, but do we have anyone on duty? Yeah, Cape stuff. Not huge, looks like some local punks. No, haven’t called them yet; I wanted to see if we had anybody in the area I could trust to do this quietly. What? Hell no, are you stupid? I’m a non-combatant and-…look. 5 guys, mid 30s, average builds. Concealed. Boulevard Bowl. …what? It’s a night out with the girls. Go to hell, Liam, my score has nothing to do with this! I did my part; you get someone over here, pronto!”

Rick closed his eyes and let out a huff. Tiff didn’t often hear her dad swear, so whoever that Liam guy on the other end was probably pushing his buttons. Rick took another deep breath and dialed another number. This time, the person on the other side was much louder, and as Tiff leaned closer, she could hear both sides of the conversation.

“911, please state your emergency.”

The woman’s voice was crisp, clear, and most of all, calm. It was no-nonsense, brooked no argument, and gave the caller a sense of security.

“I’d like to report a robbery in progress,” Rick quickly said. “At the Boulevard Bowl in Setma Heights.”

Tiff listened in as the woman asked several direct, sharp questions, first confirming that the caller wasn’t in any immediate danger. The next thing she confirmed, perhaps strangely to Tiff, was whether the call was a hoax. She found it slightly insulting at first, since they were calling for help, but Tiff realized not everyone who called the cops did so with pure intentions. She had no idea what the punishment for prank calling the police was, but she assumed it was probably harsh.

Rick answered any questions she asked in simple terms, before revealing that he was a registered Meta and his employers, the Troubleshooters, were on the way. Tiff was curious how supers partnered with mundane law enforcement, but right now wasn’t the best time to find out. All in all, Rick was done with his second call after another minute or two, about 10 minutes since they first noticed the group trying to break into the ATM.

“Now that that’s done,” Rick sighed, gently grabbing Tiff by the elbow and coaxing her up. “Let’s get out of here.”

“We’re just going to leave?” Tiff asked.

“Yup,” Rick chuckled. We did what we could. Time to bail. I’m not keeping you anywhere near a crime in progress.”

Oh, if only her dad actually knew.

She stood without complaint and followed as he led her back toward the front desk. Right as they were walking up to the sleepy attendant, Tiff could see Victoria herding Amy back through the lobby doors. She didn’t miss how her dad locked eyes with Victoria, then subtly flicked his head to the side, and her big sister nodded.

“Hi,” Rick stepped up to the counter. The boy with the pimples scratched the tip of his nose and gave the man a bored stare.

“Yeah?”

Tiff bristled. What sort of customer service was this? The boy had his hand halfway in his pocket and she could see his phone sticking out. The screen wasn’t really visible, but the glow cutting through his pants told her something was playing on the other side.

“I’d like to speak with the manager,” Rick said cheerfully.

The boy’s eyes went wide and he grew rigid. Those were fateful words no retail employee ever wanted to hear. The boy’s mouth slipped open, but he couldn’t seem to form proper words. All that came out was stammered gibberish that sounded vaguely like excuses.

“Relax,” Rick said. He pulled out his wallet and pushed his ID across the counter. “I’m a Meta, and there’s something I need to ask the person in charge. Can’t say much more than that.”

Tiff glanced at her System screen and checked in on the Quest. It was nowhere near completion, but it was still going up. They were at 7% now, and she wondered how much range her dad’s phone had. Or what it was even doing in the first place. But she was starting to appreciate what her dad had said. The important part, more than actually stopping the criminals, was making sure they were all safe.

But for some reason, her System wasn’t content to let her be happy with that. As if to drive home the point that Tiff was meant to adhere to a certain Alignment, a new screen popped up.

​

[Quest: In Cold Blood]

Betray your new allies.

Reward: 10 Infamy

​

Tiff rolled her eyes. At this point, she wasn’t surprised. No matter what she did, the System was going to brand her as a Villain. The act of stopping people from vandalizing an ATM and robbing the bowling alley?

Why would it offer her something heroic when she could become more notorious?

“Couldn’t find your blue bank,” Victoria said as she slid up next to them. In one hand, she held a black power bank, while the other was firmly clamped to Amy’s shoulder. Tiff’s other sister looked mutinous at being held back, but there was nothing she could do against Victoria’s enhanced strength.

“Thanks,” Rick muttered, taking the bank. “Might actually need this now. Custom programs drain so much battery, it’s crazy.”

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” Victoria asked in a low voice.

“Not yet,” he shook his head. “But I’ve got a job for you. Take Amy back to the entrance and don’t let anybody else in.”

“Wait,” Amy said loudly, her eyes going wide, “Dad, what’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you in a bit, sweetheart, but right now, I need you to go with your sister. And, Amy, for the love of all that’s holy, if you could ever be quiet for once in your life, now would be a great time.”

“HEY-,” Amy started to complain…quite loudly, in fact, proving Rick’s point. But Victoria’s other hand came down and covered her mouth.

“You got it, Dad,” Victoria nodded. She turned away and marched Amy back toward the entrance just as the manager was walking up. He saw Victoria reach the exit, and as she did, she blocked the doors and turned away a couple about to come in. His eyes widened and took on a dark look.

“You’re driving away my business, Mr.-“

“VanDyne,” Rick cut him off. “And I’m doing so to keep people safe. Mr. Manager, as your employee has already told you, I’m a Meta, but that’s not important. What is important, Manager, is that right now, you’re being robbed.”

Tiff watched the man instantly pale. He backed up slightly until he bumped into a display rack behind him and thrust his hands out in front of him.

“I don’t have any money!” He yelped loudly. “I don’t have the keys-“

Rick hissed at the instant commotion and quickly leaned forward. He grabbed the manager by the collar of his shirt and yanked him down against the counter.

“I’m not robbing you, you idiot; somebody else is. I’m telling you that, in a matter of minutes, some capes are going to show up, the cops are going to get here, and it’s going to be pandemonium. Honestly, I don’t have to tell you at all, and right now I regret doing so because you’re getting in the way. Just…cooperate, and your insurance will handle everything.”

Rick paused.

“You are insured, I hope? Eh, not my problem. Look, just, I don’t know, duck behind the counter and stay quiet. The last thing we want is for people to panic.”

The man seemed to calm down slightly, but the gears started turning and his eyes widened further.

“But what about business-?”

“Consider tonight closed,” Rick hissed and shoved him down. Fortunately, the man hunkered down and didn’t get up. Rick turned to Tiff and nudged her toward the door.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

Unlike Amy, Tiff knew when to be quiet and she didn’t need to be dragged away. She did, however, spare a glance back towards the lanes. The bowling alley wasn’t packed, but they weren’t the only people there. Out of the 30 lanes, maybe 10 were being used? The only saving grace was that most other customers were playing at the opposite end of the building.

“It’s a shame we can’t do anything about everyone else,” Tiff mused. Rick shook his head.

“Leave it to the people who’re paid to get shot at,” he said grimly. “We’ve done our part.”

When they reached the front doors, they found a small crowd of people out front. Some were clearly customers, looking annoyed at being denied entry, but one or two people had obviously shown up just because there was a commotion. However, nothing they could do would get them past the brick wall that was Victoria.

Or Amy, though, to be fair, Tiff’s little sister was probably adding fuel to the fire rather than helping their cause.

She was standing right behind Victoria (because Tori would never let her stand in front), with her feet in a wide stance, her hand on her hip, and her arm straight out, palm up. She looked like the sassiest of crossing guards, trying to keep cars at bay just because she was standing on a corner.

Victoria, on the other hand, had put on her black leather Roughnecks jacket and slipped on a pair of fingerless, spiked gloves. At the very least, she looked like she meant business. To top it off, one of the two guys who’d been standing in front of the darkened lounge had joined her at the door. While he was a pretty big dude on his own, Victoria put an extra exclamation point over the sentence.

Tiff could hear some frustrated and angry mutterings in the crowd, but it didn’t have time to devolve into a riot. As Rick had said, the authorities were on their way. No sooner had they walked out of the building and had several insults hurled in their faces, than a large, black SUV rumbled into the parking lot and drove up the curb. The crowd had to scramble out of the way as two regular cop cars quickly followed. Their lights were flashing, but their sirens were silent. Two costumed individuals stormed out of the SUV and were quickly followed by four police officers, who rushed into the building.

A third Cape walked up to the growing crowd, who had forgotten completely about being upset, and were all trying to peer over each other’s shoulders to see inside of the bowling alley. He nodded to the alley’s security guard, sized Victoria up, and took up a stance in front of all of them.

Tiff wanted to cringe. Were some people just born for the spotlight? Or was it some sort of superpower? The man looked entirely at home as all attention was shifted to him, and he seemed to have the art of posturing down to a science. His back was straight, his chest puffed out, and his smile could have won over the most miserly of hearts. It was almost too bright; Tiff had to look away.

“Citizens,” he said in a cheesy way that made Tiff want to barf, “Have no fear! The Troubleshooters are here!”

Tiff gagged a tiny bit and had to turn away before she dry-heaved. She caught her Dad’s attention and gave him the judgiest look a 16-year-old could manage.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he tried to scold her through clenched teeth. His face seemed forced into a smile, and Tiff guessed he was trying to maintain the illusion of order and control. Better for the common people to see a bunch of supers smiling than everyone running around in a panic, right?

Tiff huffed and made a show of crossing her arms, sticking her chin up in the air…and walking several feet to the side where she could sit down on a small planter, out of the way. In another life, she would have been just as curious as all of the gawkers gathered around the entrance. She would have seen the cop cars, lights flashing and creating a scene as they drove right over the sidewalk and parked right in front of the doors. She would have seen the posturing hero posing for photos with cell phones recording, and Tiff guessed that videos might already be going viral. She could hear a few noisy chatters in the crowd creating their vlogs. To Tiff, it seemed surreal.

Not five minutes ago, she’d been inside the building, in quite the tense situation. Even if she didn’t really feel like she was in danger, it was all around her. And now that she was outside, it was all press and paparazzi. The spectacle and the show. It didn’t stop whatever was happening inside from happening, but to the majority of the world, that no longer mattered. They couldn’t see it, and unless some news crews showed up, they likely never would. This was the true song and dance of “heroism,” and Tiff wondered how much the System played into it. Was that hero getting a quest to ham it up in front of the crowd? Was he somehow more heroic because he attracted all the attention? Tiff could admit there was some merit to being “the face” of an event. It meant the real work behind the scenes could flow more smoothly. Bring sanity back to the world at a quicker rate.

Tiff glanced at her System screens as they updated. One Quest failed while one completed. Both options were designed to drive her deeper into the Greyscale. To Tiff, the whole thing seemed flawed. Who was the real “hero” here? Would the System claim it was the Meta posing in front of the crowds? Would it give points to the cops or the two heroes who rushed inside? How about her dad? He’d done the most work. Tiff decided that she didn’t want to know.

After only ten minutes, the police officers emerged with the gang of thugs all handcuffed, marching together between them. The two heroes came out next and both looked pretty much untouched. Whatever happened here really was small potatoes in the grand scheme of things, and Tiff was simply glad to be done with it. The officers took a few statements from Victoria and her dad, but they weren’t held back for long. Rick exchanged a few words with the two heroes who had run inside, who turned out to be Troubleshooters, and they tried to recruit Victoria to their team. She laughed, politely declined, and said she was quite satisfied with her current employer. The funny thing, Tiff noticed as her sister rejected their offer, was how Victoria was staring at her when she said so.

¹

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