SV Chapter 55 (Patreon)

Victoria volunteered to go check out the fancy clothes store, and she went in the middle of the day while Tiff and Amy were at school. Amy complained, saying this was an abuse of power. How dare Victoria use the fact that she already graduated to go shopping without her sisters?!

To that, Victoria only had one thing to say.

Get good.

Amy was outraged and challenged Victoria to many various video games, but even if she won, that wouldn’t magically make her older, so she had no choice but to complain all the way to school.

At school, Tiff had her hands full with other things and, as such, had no time to wonder about mysterious [Tailors]. She had somehow made it this far into the school year without contributing to the many Quests she got daily (in any meaningful way besides merely existing), and honestly, she was surprised.

But SoCal was experiencing a heat wave and Tiff’s limited patience with PE was already strained. Tiff had mostly come to terms with slowly shuffling around various boundaries (and considered herself a connoisseur of what could be considered a track). Still, nobody should be made to jog laps in 100-degree weather. Especially not outside! Maybe if they were forced to shuffle inside the gym, things would be different. The old building had spotty AC that didn’t feel nearly as cool as the other buildings, but part of that was also because it was always filled with sweaty people generating heat. That and the roof was so much taller that the volume of air to cool was disproportionate.

But noooo.

Instead of shimmying their way around the gym’s basketball courts a buttload of times, they had to do it outside on the actual track! Because it was authentic or something!

The most outrageous part about it was that nobody was even using the gym right now! All the other classes were doing other units, including the lucky dogs that got bowling as this semester’s activity! They weren’t even here!

Because Tiff didn’t like to create waves, she wasn’t the one to start it.

“This blows chunks,” Mario Agrusa said. Tiff wouldn’t forget his name for all the times he acted up as class clown, but today, he wasn’t fooling. If they had to run much longer in this heat, chunks would, indeed, be blown. They’d be coming out one end or the other; Tiff could see it on her classmates' faces.

“Dude, the gym’s empty,” another boy muttered angrily. “I don’t care if we’re going in circles a million times. We’re already running in circles! They’re just bigger!”

“This should be illegal,” a girl complained.

“Pretty sure it is,” the muttering boy shot back.

Tiff noticed a fair amount of people were clumped up while running. While not altogether strange, as traffic jams naturally happened on the track as people normalized their speed to those around them, today was slightly different. Everyone had the energy of a wilting begonia, which is to say, none at all. Some of them might have even gotten stuck shuffling next to Tiff because she was the slowest-moving thing on the track, and they automatically adjusted to the lowest common denominator.

Even the track kids were shuffling like budget zombies.

“How much trouble do you think I’d get in if I just kinda…flopped down on the football field?” Mario asked. “Just stopped running?”

Tiff glanced at the grassy center of the track and had to admit, lying down did sound rather appealing. But then she’d be staring up at the sun, and she’d probably bake even faster.

“Might get sent to the nurse?” The girl supposed. “You could claim it’s heat stroke.”

“This is Mario we’re talking about,” Muttering Boy scoffed. “Coach’ll think he’s playing around and give him detention.”

“Might be worth, honestly,” Mario panted. “I’m used to detention.”

“I’m not,” the girl said, “And even I’m tempted.”

Tiff glanced around and took stock of her class. They were the only ones on the track today because, she assumed, their Coach was the biggest idiot. Case in point: he was running alongside them. Thankfully, he wasn’t near her group of malcontents, but he’d be making his round soon enough. Tiff wasn’t sure whether his insistence on “sharing the pain” made things better or worse, but she supposed it was better than watching him sit in the shade sipping a cool drink.

Her eyes wandered impulsively toward the gym as they rounded the next bend. They were only on their second lap and it felt like a mile was years away. Especially moving at Tiff’s glacial pace…if only it were actually that cold. Tiff squinted at the building, and something inside of her seemed to snap.

What would happen if they all just…left? As a big unit?

The System seemed to like her rebellious wavering and nudged her with a Quest.

​

[Quest: Instigate a Mutiny]

​

Rebel against the teacher and lead the class down the dark path…to the shade.

Reward: +25 Infamy

​

It was so hot outside, even the System was delirious! Jokes? In her Quest? Unbelievable.

But Tiff had to admit, she was tempted. The only question she had was…why was she getting rewarded with Infamy? Yes, a mutiny sounded fairly villainous, as did rebelling against teachers, but was that really in the same vein as, say…disregarding a captain’s orders on a boat? To be fair, the only mutiny Tiff knew off the top of her head was Mutiny on the Bounty, and she had no idea what it was actually about. It was just the funny name of a movie that popped up once in History and kind of stuck with her. The actual context was completely lost. Something about coconuts, maybe? Or island life.

Not really relevant to the situation at hand.

As they passed the short bend in the track and started moving away from the field exit, the vaguest hint of a plan started forming. On the next pass, instead of turning left like a bunch of chumps, why not just continue running straight? Right off the track, down the asphalt, and into the gym? They wouldn’t even need to break their stride…and depending on the conditions inside, they could finish their run in relative comfort and nobody could complain!

“They can’t stop us all,” Tiff mused to herself.

Tiff wouldn’t say that the group of classmates clumped around her froze, but the dynamic noticeably shifted. Somebody heard her, and as if falling in line under a superior officer, several people straightened. They didn’t speak up, but it was clear she had their attention, as they kept casting wary glances at her.

Tiff wondered if her aura leaked out, and that was why the System felt it necessary to give her points.

Figuring she was already in too deep, now that she had the undivided attention of 7 kids, Tiff might as well fully commit. She sighed, gauged the other kids' locations on the track, and did some messy napkin math.

“Here’s the plan,” she whispered, not entirely sure everyone could hear her, but not exactly caring either. “We keep together as a clump—one big ball. People on the outside, grab faster runners as they pass and slow them down. Well, don’t really grab them, like don’t clothesline them or anything, but you get the point. We want everyone in the class grouped up.”

Tiff heard some mutters of consent as her classmates received their orders. Somebody may have enthusiastically shouted, “Yes, Chef!”, but that was probably Mario and he was safe to ignore. The knot of kids grew tighter as they rounded the next two corners, snaring the overachievers who considered it their scholastic duty to perform their best, despite the heat. Some of them needed to be detained by a diminutive application of murderous intent, after which they quickly bent the knee to Tiff’s master plan. After all, it could only succeed if everyone was on board.

Kids pushed in and Tiff suddenly realized she couldn’t see much of the track ahead of her now that she was in the center of a large ball, but by now everybody was on board. On the final leg of the last long stretch, they snagged the remaining stragglers. Now they had a rolling mob of 30 kids slowly shuffling around the final bend.

“Hey! Don’t clump up like that!” The coach shouted from somewhere behind. “Somebody’s gonna trip! Spread out, like we talked about!”

“Okay!” Tiff said from the middle of the ball. “Hold strong! Tall people and everyone at the front! I’m counting on you to guide us straight! Don’t turn with the track; keep running to the gym!”

“TO THE GYM!!” Several kids started chanting.

“FREEEEDOOOOMMMM!” Mario yelled.

Tiff heard an outraged yell coming from the coach, but he was far enough away that by the time they left the track, he was powerless. She heard a few dire warnings about flunking out and detention for the rest of the year, but nobody cared. At this point, they were all aboard a runaway train that Tiff wasn’t really sure she could control.

They stomped resolutely onto the asphalt and continued to trudge toward the gym. Several kids even let out hut-hut-hut sounds like they were marching as a unit. Coach’s whistle blew furiously from behind them, but as Tiff initially thought, what could he do? He couldn’t stop every single one of them at once.

The gym, which had seemed miles away at first, was finally in front of them, and thankfully, the door was open. In the process of the class rising up, somebody else did decide to use the gym. But from the looks of things, it was only a pair of other PE teachers milling around the spacious room during their free period.

One of the coaches looked like she was about to question why an entire class decided to jog into the gym unsupervised. The class let out massive sighs of relief (somebody may have let out a comical hallelujah), nearly turning into jelly and collapsing on the spot. Still, everyone followed Tiff’s lead, and Tiff was set on not breaking all the rules, which set them on course to finish their run indoors. They kept shuffling forward, invigorated by the cool air, and started running around the basketball courts.

The two free Coaches, who’d been looking close to blowing their own whistles and disrupting the party, merely watched on in amusement as the class continued to jog. The ball-o-kids, now that it was inside, broke apart. Those insufferable people who still somehow had energy began to break away while everyone else naturally thinned out.

By the time Tiff’s PE Coach huffed his way into the gym, angrily panting and looking like his face could turn water into steam, the other teachers had already adopted the wayward class like a bunch of lost little ducklings. They managed the run, shouting encouragement and pushing everyone to run “just a little longer,” which was a weird, sad quirk of fitness junkies everywhere, but Tiff could forgive their eccentricities. Especially as her Coach stared at them in a dumbfounded way, but found he couldn’t really do anything about their rebellion as the other coaches began praising him for his dedicated, exemplary class, who weren’t willing to quit.

In the end, Tiff was pretty sure they scraped by with a passing mark, but they ultimately avoided group detention. As they lay sprawled out in the gym, finally finishing their run, Tiff caught a few wayward glances. Her Quest was complete and she was 25 Infamy richer, but at what cost? Her classmates looked at her contemplatively, but that could also be because, before today, some of them may have forgotten she was actually there.

​

The rest of school passed relatively uneventfully, or maybe that was because Tiff was too tired to focus on any drama unfolding around her. She did escape to the library with Candice, where the cheerleader shared her experience visiting Fabulé. Candice, like Sugar Rush, ended up spending more than she planned, sinking $100 into a blouse that might see use two or three times a year. But it was a really nice blouse, light and airy, perfect for spring in a lovely pastel blue, and Candice had a little extra allowance saved up anyway, so it wasn’t really a waste.

…Tiff was sensing a theme with this [Tailor]. Her suspicions were confirmed when Victoria picked them up from school.

“Do you like my new jacket?” Victoria asked, popping open the door for Amy as she tugged futilely on the handle. Tiff studied her sister critically. Victoria wore two jacket styles: bomber and biker. Her [Roughnecks] jacket fit the biker style, being black leather with the guild’s logo embroidered on the back. When she didn’t (or couldn’t) represent the guild, she usually went with the classic 1940s-style brown leather, with large cream fluffy bits around the collar and cuffs. Tiff thought her sister was crazy for wearing it in this heat, but then again, she probably only did it right now because she wanted to show off. She’d take it off in a heartbeat since the lining was likely very warm.

“It looks exactly like your last jacket,” Tiff said, frowning. “What’s new about it?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Victoria said enthusiastically. “You know my old jacket is, like, old. I don’t know where it originally came from, but I bought it at a thrift shop and it has a hole in the left pocket. This is brand new, and it’s made with total attention to detail! It’s the same design as you’d find in high-altitude bombers! Did you know there was an Army Aviation Clothing Board that regulated jackets to keep pilots warm in open-air cockpits?”

Tiff’s eyes narrowed further while Amy swooned over the softness of the lining.

“Did you buy a jacket or sign up for a history class?” Tiff asked. “Did the [Tailor] tell you all that?”

“Sure did!” Victoria agreed readily. “You know the funny thing was, I just went into the shop to take a look around, didn’t plan on buying anything at all. My first thought was, how is this place in business? It’s barely more than a hole in the wall; the storefront is tiny, it’s got a dozen or so racks and only 4 models in the window. But several other people were shopping, so I guess it gets the job done. Also, everything seems so fresh and nice, even the premade stuff on the racks, so I’m guessing he has a factory somewhere unless his Class lets him mass-produce.

“So there I was, with my hands in my pockets, planning to poke my head around for a minute at most, because really, there wasn’t a lot to see. Maybe I figured I’d ask a few questions, see if the owner was in, find out their vibe. I didn’t expect the owner himself to be working the sales floor. He spotted me immediately and rushed over. I thought he was excited to make a sale, and I was about to be all, ‘Hey buddy, get out of my space,' but he wasn’t one of those sleazy car salesmen oozing oil out of their ears. He got my attention, paused, and looked at me theatrically. I almost laughed, but I could respect the bit. He even did one of those numbers where he closed one eye dramatically and held up a hand to block everything else out. Then he smirked and told me he had exactly what I was looking for.

“I was like, no shot, but I shrugged and decided to play along. He took me to a corner of the store and pulled this out.”

Victoria tugged at the lapel of her jacket.

“I gotta say, I was a bit stumped. You know me, I’ve got a thing for these jackets and after talking with him for several moments, he asked if I wanted to try it on. Most of the time, I can’t buy ready-to-wear. Premade stuff doesn’t fit right; it’s either too baggy everywhere else but fits my shoulders, or it’s too short and starts looking closer to a crop top. You get the picture. So I try it on, and– lo and behold –perfection. The sleeves don’t snag when I lift my arms up; they actually travel all the way to my wrists; the zipper works flawlessly, and it doesn’t feel like I’m getting squeezed into a tube. Easily the best 350 I’ve spent this year.”

“You dropped three hundred and fifty bones on a jacket?” Amy asked, stunned. She gave a look of outraged betrayal and thrust her hand over her chest. “What the heck?! Buy me presents!”

“Get a job, runt,” Victoria teased. “Back in my day, I mowed lawns to save up money, none of this relying on allowance bullshit.”

“Yeah yeah,” Amy rolled her eyes. “Was it in the snow, too? Uphill both ways? Okay boomer. And wait! You got allowance too! Don’t give me this crap!”

“Just sayin’,” Victoria shrugged. “You want a cool jacket? Put in the work.”

“So what’s this guy’s deal?” Tiff asked, trying to make sense of her sister’s report. “Is he just making a killing by selling overpriced shirts?”

“It’s not a crime to have expensive clothes,” Amy said, though she still looked a little put out.

“Are we really sure he has one?” Victoria mused with a frown. “I got the impression he’s an enthusiast, not a con-man. He’s just really excited about making and selling clothes.”

“And super-knowledgeable about niche sectors of clothing market history?” Tiff asked, deadpan.

“Can a guy not have passion?” Victoria shrugged. “All I’m saying is that I didn’t find anything conclusive.”

“So something could be happening with the mysterious [Tailor]!” Amy cheered, as if she was about to put on a deerstalker cap and sleuth him out. Victoria shook her head.

“I wouldn't go that far.”

“But what about Sugar Rush’s Quest?” Tiff asked. “Something has to be happening. The System wouldn’t give a Quest if there weren’t, right?”

“I don’t know,” Victoria frowned. “It could be a one-off. Something it made up to keep Sugar Rush busy.”

“That doesn’t sound right to me,” Tiff frowned. She thought back to the Quest she received earlier that day.

Was it silly? Yes.

Was it necessary? No.

But did it serve a purpose? Absolutely.

In Tiff’s experience, the System had an agenda. Not some sinister motive, per se, but a reason it gave out Quests. For Tiff, it usually focused on spreading her Villainy and giving her Infamy. As long as there was a legitimate reason to do either, the System would find a way to make it happen. But she didn’t get Quests to, say, practice a Villainous monologue. It didn’t give her exposure, so to the System, it was probably pointless. Even if she could really use it in some situations.

So why would it give Sugar Rush a random Quest to investigate a shop for no good reason? As far as Sidekicks went, Sugar Rush was a solid contributor. She actively patrolled her area to keep her neighborhoods safe, and everything Tiff knew about the girl pointed to a selfless character who wasn’t paranoid about every unusual thing. She had more than enough on her plate without going on a wild-[Tailor] chase leading nowhere.

Or maybe Tiff was leaning too far into it.

Maybe she was letting her recent exposure to the heroine tint her goggles. As a Supervillain, Tiff certainly had things she wanted to hide, so therefore, didn’t everybody else? Tiff at least understood that not everybody thought the same way, and people who did sometimes got stuck in the rut of thinking everyone else did too. The old classic: cheaters accuse everyone else of cheating. Maybe she was lumping a whole lot of judgment on somebody who didn’t deserve it. Or maybe she was secretly jealous of another Villain theoretically muscling in on her turf.

​

…But something still didn’t sit right with Tiff. Despite her inner turmoil, Tiff couldn’t shake the feeling that her gut was correct. And once they got home, that feeling got worse.

“Tori,” Tiff asked as they ambled into the house, “It’s freakin’ hot outside. Why are you still wearing the jacket? You’ve gotta be sweating.”

“‘Cuz it’s comfy?” Victoria shrugged. Her cheeks were a little pink and there was a slight sheen on her forehead, but she didn’t move to take it off. Even now that they were indoors…and she didn’t have anybody else to impress.

“It can’t be that comfy,” Amy frowned. “Tori, lemme see. I wanna try it on!”

Victoria visibly hesitated, which also spiked Tiff’s alarms. Her sister never hesitated, not even for stupid stuff like sharing a coat. She’d either agree instantly or deny Amy flat out. Never waver in the middle.

And yet almost 3 whole seconds passed before she tilted her head and slid it off her shoulders!

“Might be a little big on you, squirt,” Victoria teased, earning a stuck-out tongue from Amy. Tiff’s younger sister enthusiastically put it on…showing that it was, indeed, rather large. But unlike Tiff, who might be able to use it as a robe, it merely looked a little loose on Amy as she wrapped herself up and twirled around.

When she stopped twirling…she had a frown on her face.

“What’s up?” Tiff asked.

“I mean, it’s ‘kay, I guess?” Amy pouted, slid it off, and tossed it back at Victoria. Clearly it wasn’t that sinister if she could discard it on a whim, right? “From how Tori was going on about it, I expected it to be amazing.”

“You have no culture,” Victoria sighed sadly. “The youth these days….”

Amy puffed up her cheeks and started wailing on Victoria, bopping her uselessly on the arm. Tiff held out her hand, and to her surprise, Victoria put the jacket in it. Since she had it…might as well try it on?

Tiff didn’t often try on her sisters’ clothes; they were in a totally different category. Even Amy’s stuff was big enough that it was hard to tell if something looked cute or not, since Tiff ended up swimming in it. Besides, they didn’t enjoy the same styles, and what worked for Amy or Victoria would never work for Tiff.

She wrestled with the surprisingly heavy garment and slid her arm through the sleeve. The cuff dangled limply several inches past her fully extended fingers and she had to bunch it up around her elbows just to poke her hand through. The bottom hem of the jacket fell almost to her knees. Figuring she might as well go the whole way, Tiff fastened the zipper and pulled it up.

Amy was right.

It was…’kay.

Tiff felt a little silly wearing the huge jacket, but her sisters didn’t tease her about it. And not just because they were busy doing a samurai-style showdown where they slapped each other after an intense stare-off, flinging out their hands like a drawn katana. They each spared her a glance, nodded in appreciation, and Victoria slapped Amy when she lost her concentration.

Tiff was about to take it off and maybe just consider the whole thing an elaborate hoax…when she felt it.

She couldn’t describe what it was, except it was foreign, alien, and 100% wrong. It was like the tickle that goes up a person’s spine when they see something that gives them the heebie-jeebies. Like watching a million roaches storm out of a drain like a tidal wave of poo or a tarantula in a terrarium slowly stalking a cricket…no, scratch that, just watching a tarantula, period. Tiff wanted to reject the jacket immediately…so she did.

She tossed it back at Victoria (which let Amy get a hit in). The youngest VanDyne let out a victory roar and ran away screaming. Victoria spared Tiff a glance before giving chase. Tiff was…conflicted. The feeling didn’t last long; in fact, it was hardly more than a blip on her senses. Like somebody had pricked her with a needle; there and then gone. She had no idea what to make of it, but one thing was clear.

Victoria never felt it.

She would never let her little sisters wear something that…violated them. Tiff’s skin was still crawling and she felt like she needed to brush her teeth to clean out her mouth. The worst part was, Tiff had no idea what it meant. Why would she feel something and both of her sisters wouldn’t? And as she followed them into the living room, where Melissa was wrestling them into submission, why would clothes make anybody feel that way in the first place? It wasn’t like the feeling originated from the clothes…only because Tiff put them on. She could touch them all day long and nothing would happen. But put the jacket on? That disturbing, disquieting feeling of being…nudged.

Tiff watched Melissa carefully as she sat on Victoria and pulled the jacket on herself. Her face revealed none of the revulsion. Nothing to show how alien it felt. If anything, the jacket looked 2 sizes too small, but otherwise it was a nice match. It went well with her buff physique, or maybe bomber jackets just had an affinity for people with broad shoulders?

“Not bad,” Melissa said, flexing and adjusting the fit. “I could see myself wearing something like this. Maybe not a lot, but I drive to cold places now and again. Where did you say you got this from?”

“Fabulé,” Victoria muttered tiredly, resigned to her fate as a bench.

“What do you think, Tiff?” Her mom asked, twisting to showcase the look as Tiff wandered over. “Do you think your dad will appreciate the look?”

“Why are you asking me?” Tiff sighed explosively.

“He’ll like when you take it off,” Victoria smirked.

“That’s beside the point,” Melissa said deviously. She opened her mouth, looked around at her audience, and realized that it was Amy and Tiff. Her mouth slowly closed. “Well!” She coughed. “Where did you say this place was? Hacienda? I’ve got tomorrow off; I think I’ll stop by.”