As soon as Melissa left the room, Tiff kicked Amy out. She’d had a very long day, and she didn’t have the energy necessary to deal with the overgrown golden retriever. If Amy had a tail, there’d be no items left on any shelves. Amy’s eyes had just landed on the giant coffin-garment bag and Tiff had no desire to get used as a dress-up doll this late at night. Surely she was only delaying the inevitable, and Amy knew it too, which was probably why she left with minimal complaint.
Once the giant and the whirlwind were gone, Tiff had a moment of peace and quiet. Suddenly, she felt exhausted, as if the stress, anxiety, frustration, and worries of the entire day had been condensed into a single time-release vitamin, and now it was time to activate. All at once. She thought briefly about trying to wrangle the huge dress off her bed, but that proved to be more effort than it was worth. So she pushed it as far over as it would go, squished into the wall, and made a little nest for herself out of the remaining real estate.
Sunday was proving to be a real doozy right from the get-go. Victoria and Rick got home sometime in the middle of the night, and as soon as Amy was awake, she wasted no time in stampeding down the hall and banging on her biggest sister’s door. Victoria had some choice words to say about that and a minor squabble broke out, which then drew the ire of Melissa. And when an irate, 7 and 1/2 foot tall giant goes stomping down a hallway, it isn’t quiet. It also shakes everything. Tiff had half a mind to see if she could find a way to measure the difference between the quake she caused last night and her mom’s tremors, just to find out what was worse. It was only an idle thought, though, as she lay in bed with a small smile twitching on her face.
Just a typical weekend morning in the VanDyne household.
Breakfast was also loud, but not in the grating, wake-you-up-from-a-dead-sleep sort of way. With Melissa back home, that meant sizzling pans, stirring pots, and the occasional beeping oven. She loved hearty food, and she cooked tons of it. Fortunately, she didn’t force everyone else to abide by her diet alone. Tiff nibbled on some slices of honeydew, some buttered toast, and several crispy strips of bacon while across from her, Victoria devoured a heaping plate of biscuits and gravy. Rick had a much more modest portion and mainly nursed a large cup of coffee, looking tired but satisfied.
The conversation, naturally, revolved around Victoria’s trip to the emergency room. With the cat out of the bag regarding Tiff’s not-so-secret identity, Victoria spilled the beans on their illicit activities. While it was clear Melissa and Rick did not entirely approve of Victoria placing her and Tiff in danger, they could at least understand it wasn’t entirely the kids’ fault, and felt she handled herself reasonably. So long as they came home safe and sound at the end of the day, that’s all Tiff’s parents really cared about.
Of course, they would absolutely tack on more rules and stipulations when safety wasn’t a concern, but they understood the true values in life. And, since Victoria came out of it mostly unscathed, her retelling of the hospital trip was perhaps a touch dramatic. Fortunately, Rick was there to add a grounding voice, though he did admit that he was worried on the entire drive over.
Tiff was dubious of Victoria’s claims at first, wondering how it would ever be possible for somebody to be “unscathed” after receiving those injuries. Tiff saw the rippling wave of bruises. She heard Victoria's hiss of pain as she touched her ribs. That wasn’t made up. But neither was a Meta’s capacity for healing, especially one ranked highly in Might. By the time they made it to the ER, Victoria’s bruises were starting to fade. The doctors ran some tests and found that, yes, the initial wound was brutal, but her body already put itself back together. There wasn’t anything they could do for her, so they sent her on her way.
Tiff stealthily inquired how the doctors stacked up against the standard imperial measurement of all doctors: Doctor Waters. Victoria cackled and messed up Tiff’s hair.
As soon as it became apparent that Victoria’s wounds weren’t something she needed to dance around on tiptoes, Amy opened the floodgates and let all of her burning curiosity spill forth. She asked all sorts of questions, from what the bad guys looked like to what they wore and what their powers were, to why they needed to fight in a 24-Heaven. If Tiff and Victoria were going to have an epic showdown, there were much better options, in Amy’s considerable opinion.
The meal was winding down, Rick was washing the dishes, and Melissa was trying to goad Victoria into an arm wrestling match, when the doorbell rang. Rick paused, Tiff presumed to glance at his phone to check the door cam, and went back to work scrubbing a stubborn frying pan. He cast a winning smile at his wife.
“Sweetums, can you go see who’s at the door?” Rick asked sweetly. Melissa rolled her eyes; apparently she took umbrage with the nickname.
“Dear, Sweetums is a muppet,” she said with a sigh, refusing to budge.
“You’re a muppet,” Rick offered a counterpoint. Tiff thought it was well-reasoned.
“Your face is a muppet,” Amy entered the fray.
The kitchen paused. Rick let the water flow over his hands as he raised a singular eyebrow, and Melissa gave Rick a finger gun, as if to signify a valid point. Amy perked up.
“I win?” She asked hopefully.
“She wins,” Victoria said, speaking with authority.
“Great,” Melissa declared. “You can get the door.”
Amy complained, but she obeyed. As soon as she was out of the kitchen, Rick chuckled. “It’s a delivery.”
“You could have said so sooner,” Melissa scoffed.
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”
Tiff could hear a slight mumbling from the entryway, since it was connected to the living room, which was the next room over. Eventually, Amy let out a big shout.
“Moooooom, there’s a delivery guy at the dooooor!”
“Ahh, you useless child,” Melissa sighed. “Where did we go wrong?”
“She’s yours. Don’t bring me into this.”
Melissa got up and slowly danced away, stealing a peck on Rick’s cheek as she left the room. Tiff glanced at Victoria, who glanced back. Who ordered something?
“Tiiiiiiffff,” Melissa called out loudly. “There’s a delivery guy at the doooooor!”
Tiff slapped her hand over her face.
She got up and slowly trudged into the entryway. Standing in the doorway was, indeed, a delivery man. He looked torn between being amused and upset. He was also trying to pull a clipboard with paperwork out of Melissa’s hands, which was going about as well as Tiff would have guessed.
“Look, lady, I can’t just take any signature. It’s a verified delivery. If your name’s not on the paperwork, you aren’t signing.”
“Yes, but I’m her legal guardian.”
“Your name Theophania?” he asked gruffly, still tugging at the clipboard. “Because you don’t look like a Theophania.”
“Says who?” Melissa challenged.
“Says the ID you just tried to hand me.”
“Ah.”
Tiff could tell that her mom was messing around, but the poor man probably couldn’t. She kicked Melissa lightly in the calf as she walked up and held out her hand for the clipboard. Melissa released it, but the delivery guy quickly snatched it back.
“I’m Theophania,” she said with a sigh. Whenever she had to use her full name, she always felt like she should be looking down on people and laughing haughtily. The man looked suspicious but relieved.
“You got any ID on you?” He asked warily.
“I’m 16,” Tiff groused, but then she thought about it. “Will a school ID work?”
“Just show him your System screen,” Victoria said with a smirk as she sauntered into the crowded entryway. “You know, like I showed you that one time.”
Tiff breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally, the voice of reason. The man watched the screen materialize and finally nodded.
“Perfect. Sign here, please.”
“Wait,” Tiff frowned. “What am I even signing for?”
“A big ol’ box,” the man shrugged. “Whatever it is, it’s heavy, and it’s huge.”
The whole family trudged out to the sidewalk, where a delivery van was parked in the street. The lift gate was down, and a pallet sat on top of it. As the man said, the box was large, and Tiff had no idea why she’d need a box almost as tall as she was.
“Who ordered this?” She muttered. “I didn’t.”
“It’s got your name on it,” the man shrugged. “And it’s all paid for. I’m just a delivery guy.”
“Pal, you need this pallet back?” Melissa asked.
The man looked up as Tiff started signing. He was probably thinking how silly the question sounded when his brain took into account the size of the woman he was talking to.
“No?” He answered quizzically. “Just let me get the jack and I can drop it wherever…oh, shit.”
Tiff was trying her best to make a suitably fashionable cursive signature when she looked up. Her mom had apparently bent down and picked up the whole thing: pallet, box, and all. The man was slowly backing away as Melissa was hefting it up and down in her arms.
“Not bad,” Melissa mused. Tiff hurriedly scribbled the rest of her name before something dumb could happen.
“Thankyoubye,” she mumbled rapidly as she shoved the paperwork back at the guy.
Tiff fled inside after Melissa, who was pestering Rick into opening the garage door. The VanDyne’s didn’t store their cars in the garage (because Melissa’s truck wouldn’t fit), but it wasn’t one of those garages packed to bursting with random junk. Melissa put the pallet down, waited until everyone was inside, and shut the door.
“Okay, who wants to guess what’s in it?” She asked. Rick gave her a questioning look.
“You don’t know?
“I didn’t order anything,” Melissa shook her head. “Besides, you’d know if I did, hun.”
“True,” Rick shrugged. Tiff’s parents shared finances. “So why would it say Tiff’s name?”
“What in the world would you have ordered?” Victoria asked, peering at the sides of the box. It was made of cardboard and mostly covered with warning stickers in various languages.
“I have no idea,” Tiff frowned. If she had ordered anything, it would have been through Amazon. But she hadn’t ordered anything for months; she was busy saving up her allowance…except…she did order something last night, didn’t she?
Understanding hit her right as the family finished opening up the box, and she let out a groan as everybody else muttered in surprise.
“A…microwave?” Rick asked. He sounded completely stumped. “Tiff…why is somebody sending you a microwave?”
“Are we sure this is a microwave?” Victoria asked. “I mean, look at the size of this thing. And…Turbo-chef I-5? Is this a microwave or a freeway?”
“Waaaaaiiiit,” Amy bolted up straight from where she’d been peering into the box. Her eyes were huge as she quickly turned to Tiff. “Is this…?”
“That thing you and Mom were messing around with last night?” Tiff finished with a sigh. “I suppose it is. Are you happy? This is your fault, not mine.”
Melissa’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she ran some calculations. Then they lit up like the imaginary light bulb over her head.
“Ho ho, so that’s what your Skill does, Tiff?” She asked excitedly. “Hot damn, that’s amazing.”
“You ordered a microwave…with your Skill?” Victoria asked, dumbfounded.
“With the TAS, yes,” Tiff sighed, exasperated. “Apparently, it does a lot more than let us look at a map. It’s a whole thing.”
Rick had opened the inner box the microwave was in and Melissa was whistling in appreciation at the shiny appliance.
“But we already have a perfectly good microwave,” Rick muttered, still flummoxed. Melissa nudged him on the shoulder.
“Yes, but this has so many options,” she preened. “It’s got touch controls, smart-sensor cooking, a fully programmable LCD screen with Wi-Fi connectivity….”
The longer she rambled on, the more Rick started nodding. By the time Melissa took a breath, he was invested.
“But will it play Doom?” Amy asked. Rick turned to his youngest daughter and gave her a speculative look. His eyes narrowed as he grinned. Challenge accepted. Tiff decided she was too tired for this and went back inside.
“I didn’t know your TAS could do that,” Victoria mumbled as she followed Tiff inside.
“I did some experimenting last night,” Tiff admitted. “After you went to the hospital, I sat down to look at all the alerts I received over the day. I completed a lot of Quests.”
“Anything good?” Victoria asked. Tiff was about to shake her head but paused. Technically, she didn’t consider that massive dress good…but would her family? Unfortunately, Victoria noticed her hesitation.
“You did, didn’t you?” She grinned. “Tiff, that’s fantastic! Congratulations! Finally, the System is looking up for you!”
“But it isn’t, Tori,” Tiff groaned. “It gave me a dress.”
“Well, that’s anticlimactic," Victoria huffed. “But what’s wrong with a dress? It gave me armor.”
“Yeah, but your armor comes with a transformation sequence,” Tiff complained. “I have to put mine on manually.”
“It’s a dress, Tiff,” Victoria smiled wryly. “That’s what you do. You wear dresses all the time.”
“Yes, but not like this! And it’s freakin’ heavy!”
Tiff led Victoria into her room and, in exasperation, threw her arms toward the garment bag.
“See?” She demanded. “Look at this thing. How is this practical?”
Victoria’s brows were in her hairline as she approached the bag. She gently touched the zipper, which itself was a tiny coffin, and examined it from all angles. Eventually, she let out a loud, cackling laugh.
“I take it back. The System is never going to give you a break, is it? This is hilarious!”
“It’s over the top!” Tiff grumped, but she was smiling. “I mean, what says I’m evil like a giant garment bag shaped like a coffin?”
“Have you opened it up?” Victoria asked, reaching for it. As soon as she grabbed it, her eyes bulged. “Geeze. What’s it made of?”
Victoria didn’t struggle to lift the thing like Tiff had, but she could still tell when something was heavier than it should be.
“HEY MOM!” Victoria yelled, making Tiff’s eyes go wide. “Come here for a moment, will ya?!”
“Tori…!” Tiff hissed, but Victoria merely cackled.
“There’s no shot you keep this from her,” Victoria grinned. “She’d have found out eventually. Better to get it over with now while she’s in a good mood.”
“Yeah?” Melissa asked, appearing in the doorway. Her eyes locked onto the garment bag and she recoiled. “What the literal Hell is that? Who makes casket-bags?”
“It’s Tiff’s new dress,” Victoria beamed. Tiff covered her face with her hands.
“Is it finally time to open the bag?” Amy’s voice floated around their mom. Tiff groaned harder. “I wanna see!”
“Well, get in here, then!”
Tiff gave up. She retreated to her bed, which seemed like it had so much more room now that it wasn’t being hogged by a giant dress. Melissa took the bag from Victoria and held it at arm’s length so it could hang properly. Amy quickly scooted into Tiff’s computer chair as Victoria took a position as showman. She gripped the zipper and lowered it dramatically, slowly revealing more and more of the ostentatious gown. Melissa and Amy both gasped theatrically while Victoria nodded in approval.
“Truly, a dress fitting of the Dark Queen,” she cackled. “Have you tried it on yet?”
“Tori,” Tiff groaned. “I legit think that dress is half my weight. And besides…I have no clue how to put it on!”
“This is a corset,” Melissa said critically, running her finger down the soft velvet. “I can feel the boning.”
“Mom said boning,” Amy grinned, earning her a playful swat.
“Yeah, but check out that collar,” Victoria whistled. “And those shoulder pads.”
“You’d make a killer debut at a ren faire!” Amy squealed. Tiff gave her sister a flat look.
“Amy, do I look like the kind of person that would willingly go to a ren faire?”
“Actually, kinda, yeah,” Amy shrugged.
“You know I hate being social like that. Being me is hard enough; I don’t want to pretend I’m someone else.”
“Actually,” Victoria said, adding her appraisal, “I think we’re going more with vampire here. Look at the theme; that bag is clearly a coffin.”
“Oooh,” Amy said energetically, bouncing up and down. She took her index fingers and held them against her eye teeth, pointing them down. “Ahhh vant to suck your blaaaahd.”
“Dracula never said that,” Victoria rolled her eyes. “That’s a myth.”
“So?” Amy shrugged. “Tiff can say it instead.”
“I’m not saying that,” Tiff denied.
“It’s for the best,” Melissa agreed.
“But you gotta!” Amy whined. “If you’re gonna be Evil Queen with Evil Queen Dress! Oh! I know! You totally need a killer theme song!”
“Oooh,” Victoria agreed. “With an organ solo.”
“Or the harpsichord!” Amy shot up. Her face hardened into a determined look. “I’m gonna learn how to play the harpsichord.”
“Amy, you can’t even play the piano,” Melissa laughed. “Do you even know what a harpsichord looks like?”
“I can look up a video.”
“Can any of you be serious for a minute?” Tiff complained. “It’s not like I’m ever going to wear this.”
Melissa shared a look with Victoria and grinned.
Of course, Tiff ended up wearing the dress. She felt like an utter fool at first, but she had to admit that, after she was paraded in front of a full-length mirror, the System had good taste. The dress was impeccably made of the finest materials and fit so perfectly. It must have literally been tailored for her, though not by any human hands. She thought she’d struggle to move once she was inside of it, but her movement wasn’t restricted in the slightest. She didn’t even have trouble breathing; in fact, she could barely feel the corset’s squeeze. Perhaps there was something magical about the dress?
Other than making her look even more like a pasty vampire.
No, Tiff begrudgingly corrected. She couldn’t downplay this gown so easily. Wearing this, she was a Gothic Queen. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to take on the mantle of Dark Queen, but man, she’d never worn something that complemented her so perfectly. Most clothes she tried on she fought with. Too big, too small, too loose around the shoulders or chest…normally, the dress wore Tiff.
Not so here.
And just wearing it made Tiff feel more regal. Maybe it was the gown's structure, but her posture felt straighter, her head held higher. Even if she couldn’t see around the massive collar blocking a decent chunk of her vision. And then there were the sleeves…which went down to the tips of her fingers and could be attached stealthily to a pair of black silk gloves by the crimson lace. Tiff assumed it was to keep the sleeves from slipping down if she raised her arms…but it could also very well be a subtle show of power. Tiff was so important, she didn’t even need to use her hands. All she had to do was wave a little motion and get a lackey to do it for her.
So she did.
If her family was going to insist she wear this ridiculous thing for the rest of the day, she was more than happy to boss them around. Sitting in chairs was pretty awkward at first, because she wasn’t used to taking up so much space, and the fabric just bloomed everywhere when she sat down. As an upside, it allowed her to claim the couch all by herself.
Amy soon grew bored of calling Tiff “milady” or other haughty titles, and as soon as their dad wandered into the kitchen with the new microwave, she leaped up to help. Finally, Tiff had a moment of peace. She had, of course, completed her Class Quest when her family helped stuff her into the dress.
[Class Quest: Nobody Cared Who I Was… Complete!]
A real Supervillain requires presence. Don the outfit.
Dark Queen’s Regalia worn: 1/1
[New Class Quest: …Until They Groveled At My Feet]
Instill the fear of the Dark Queen into the world.
Directly raise your Infamy through personal interactions. 5789 / 7500 Infamy
Tiff sighed and waved the screen away with a lazy flick of her hand.
…she felt infinitely more pretentious while wearing this silly dress. The entitlement was real.
Tiff had no desire to work toward the next step of her Class quest, though she had no doubt she’d end up doing so, whether she wanted to or not. She only wondered how long she could put it off before the System started nagging at her.
Or…what might technically count toward that goal?
She didn’t need to only scare Citizens, right? It should work if she mean-mugged a few mobsters, right? Maybe take down a drug lord or two?
Tiff snorted. She couldn’t believe she was having these thoughts, regardless of whether they were silly daydreams or not.
But seriously.
Tiff was drawing a hard line at drugs. Maybe she’d let a little crime slide here or there, so long as she could monitor it. And monitoring was exactly what her Class was good at. If she could direct some miscreant energy into a more…productive outlet, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. And she did need to think about making money. Of course, she wouldn’t be spending it on upgrading her appliances all the time, but what if something bad happened in the neighborhood and she genuinely wanted to help? If she controlled an area, she could actually do something. Last night, Tiff was prepared to laugh away the thought of the 24-Heaven actually getting repaired. Now, she imagined the clerk showing up to work, confused, as the building fixed itself.
How did that work? Was it magic? Did work just get done when nobody was looking, like some sort of quantum construction crew or Schrödinger's Handyman?
And how about the soft serve machine? Surely they received a delivery this morning just like Tiff had with the microwave.
Tiff leaned back in the couch as it dawned on her that she was starting to take her Class seriously. She was actually considering what it might look like if this was her city.
The thought was both sobering and depressing. She was 16. 16. She should be chasing relationships and blissfully ignorant of upcoming homework.
Not planning how to leverage gangs against each other or working up a strategy to sneak into the library during lunch and look up how Controlled Areas related to politics.
Tiff thought back to the other day when Victoria joked about outsourcing. Tiff wasn’t laughing anymore. Eventually she’d need to draw more people in. Her dad was an excellent IT guy, but he wasn’t a city leader. Her mom could crack the ground beneath her with a stomp of her foot, but she wasn’t a mover and a shaker. Amy…Tiff would never willingly subject her little sister to this new life she found herself contemplating. But poor Amy probably thought it was a game. Tiff knew she did. The girl thought everything was a game, sometimes even after it bit her on the butt. It just frustrated Tiff that Amy was so much better at navigating the TAS than she was…it was so easy to seek her out for help. As it was with many things, as Tiff thought about it. Amy was really good at a lot of things Tiff wasn’t. Especially in social situations. Tiff shook her head. Enough of that.
Perhaps, for the first time in her entire life, Tiff was looking forward to going to school. Surely it had to be less hectic than this.
Author's Note:
Here's what I envisioned as Tiff's dress. The top one is the style but the colors are inverted, closer to the bottom one.