Chapter 4 - Flashback 1 out of MANY // Beefing with an 11 year old? Seriously?
The date was unknown to Powder, some sweltering summer where she and Violet played in the smoggy streets of Zaun, accompanied by three friends who would clamor after them, a clatter of bins and laughter as they chased after each other. The heat would beat down on them, a rhythm of sorts, as they pushed past stands, bins, and memorized every alley. Powder had heard stories of the uppercity’s multitude of plastic slides, and carefully engineered swings to pristine safety codes, to which Vi had snorted, “What a lame Playground, No wonder why they all walk around like they’ve got sticks up their as-”
She had shortly cut off when Vander firmly set their evening drinks in front of them, the bar long closed. Juice, a delicacy to any other undercity kid, a habitual ritual for Powder. She had always greedily pulled it to her, ignoring the slosh of it crashing into the metal grooves like a tsunami and spilling over the other side a little. She sighed deeply, in the filtered air of the bar as she sipped down on her dented metal straw.
The air, though familiar, always made her cough whenever she inhaled it too deeply. It was revolting, bitter like the alcohol Violet tended to sneak behind Vander’s back with a rebellious teaspoon full, stale like the toxic fumes of spray paint she would often decorate walls with her friends- her family.
But despite the conditions, Powder could adamantly shake her head, smiling and nodding, laughing and giggling, as she trailed after her sister, in everything. It was consistent, a routine, where she would run to the basement doorway in the mornings and measure herself to the door, even tiptoeing, only to find she was still inches shorter then where Violet had been at her age. At least she was taller than Ekko, at his dismay.
That was her life, her simple, exciting, life.
Until the Enforcers.
Though Vander had never dared to speak ill of them, Vi did.
Day in, day out, it was worse than some regulars daydrinking, as Vi always took the chance to shit talk them to the heavens and hell, like a divine prophet.
Powder couldn’t help but notice them more in the street that coming school year, popping out of corners to harass what she thought were innocent activities. Those long evenings of running and playing turned into solemn walks home, after being chased down after Vi couldn't hold her tounge, or chastised by their beady eyes that hid behind that mask of theirs.
“I hate them.” Vi groaned as she slumped into the basement couch.
“Yeah! I hate them.” Powder echoed, copying Vi carefully as she slumped into the chair with an exhaustive huff.
“If you hate them so much, why don’t you just… shoot them with that little gun of yours?” Mylo quipped, a slide of distaste purposefully slipping off his tongue.
“What? No! They’ll get me for sure! I can’t run that fast.”
“Good Riddance then. May the strongest survive or whatnot-”
“That’s not even how it goes!” Powder huffed defiantly, “It’s: ‘Survival of the fittest.’”
Mylo rolled his eyes, temper breaking as he was being corrected, “Jibber Jabber, see, you could’ve scuttled away by now in a real fight, but because you stood there and talked cheap crap back, you’d be in handcuffs by now and sailed you all the way off to…” Mylo’s face melted into a shit-eating grin, “… Stillwater!”
Powder jumped back, and her face slipped, horrified at the thought of that isolated island, cold cells, the murky water that surrounded it. “Shut up! Will you?” Vi snapped, throwing a pillow at Mylo, sending him stumbling back as he caught it, “I’m tired of you arguing with her, you’re beefing with a eleven year old for fucks sake!”
Powder’s hands clasped over her ears at the sudden volume, to which Vi caught. There was a mumbled apology, as she went back to sulking.
“Summer’s almost over and we can’t even have fun anymore.” There was that pout, a gruff complaint that grated on everyone’s ears, but Powder was beginning to see where she was coming from. Vander, cautiously, had let her out this summer to go explore the Undercity like her personal jungle, though of course, under the supervision of Vi, Claggor, and Mylo (unfortunately.)
Babysitting her was perhaps redemption for Vi having to repeat that year’s classes (“Who fails ninth grade?” Mylo had joked, though he was ecstatic at the thought of joining Vi to be in the same year-), to prove that she was mature enough. That she could not only take care of herself, but Powder as well.
Powder rarely listened into that type of conversation Vander and Vi shared, one or both slumped on the bar counter, talking over virgin-mocktails that they didn’t drink. It was always whispers with her name that she was drawn into, “You have to watch over her, y’know? She’s your sister.”
“I know.” Vi would say, like the closing of a prayer. She did more than just ‘watch over’ Powder. It was those gasping moments where she would catch the collar of her shirt before she slipped off a roof, throwing her to Claggor when they outran Enforcers, giving her an extra biscuit the kind lady at the food stand had given them. She would warn her away from the mines, coughing as Powder swore she saw a blue glint disappear in that familiar Zaunite smog.
Now, these comprehensive conversations had blasted into arguments, “Tell them to leave! This is our turf! We can run them out!”
Vander sighed, “Violet, you learned this in school, the last time that happened-” Vander drifted off as he longingly sighed at the jukebox, the lights flickering, waiting for someone to play something, “-I am here to keep the peace. The Enforcers-” His voice was thick with carefully chosen words, “Are here to keep that peace.”
“We don’t need them though! They’re making everything worse!”
Powder could never stand up to Vander the way Vi did, barking stubbornly as she tried and tried again, her words trying in all ways to throw a harrowing jab at Vander, but he always kept his guard up. Yet, no matter how much Vander would try to ignore it for the sake of ‘peace’, Powder saw the effects of these “Enforcer Scum” (Vi’s words, not her’s), on her neighbours. There was never anything serious, as Vander’s hair grayed over the span of weeks, only just a couple unjustified arrests, public beatings, never anything as serious as spilt blood.
Vi, on that eerily quiet night, had suddenly stood up. “I know what we can do.”
Her statement, was buzzing with innovation, with even more energy than with what Jinx had, with those failed tinkered machinery she saved under her bed in a old shoe box.
“If Vander won’t do anything, we’ll drive them out ourselves!” Vi, now hushed, had a glint in her eye.
“Vi, we are a couple fourteen year olds, plus one kid, don’t be insane.” Claggor mumbled, an arm blocking the flickering basement light from his eyes. “What would you even do?”
Vi rolled her eyes, “Easy, infiltrate their base, mess around their things, or even easier, light it aflame!”
“I’m not a pyromaniac, and neither are you. Next.”
“You sassy little shiester-” Vi huffed as she dropped back into the couch again. “What do we do then? Something with a little kick preferably.”
There was a dulling silence, and Powder was shocked to see how her voice shattered it, “We could go down to the mines?”
Vi shook her head, whipping her head towards her sister, “Hell no! Those are off limits!”
“And so are the rooftops, the alleys, even the red districts- whatever that means!” Powder crossed her arms, matching her sister, slumping back like Vi’s mirror, “It was a suggestion. And besides, I saw something interesting in there that could help. But it’s off limits now.”
“What was interesting?”
Powder’s face lit up as Vi leaned in closer, mistaking her concern for interest, “It was blue! It looked like a gem, maybe that’s what mum and dad mined!”
Vi narrowed her eyes, “And it should stay that way, ‘mined’, y’know, like in the past.” She shook her head, “Powder, they mined coal. Don’t you remember how they always came home dirty?”
Powder’s voice caught in her throat, looking at her lap, hands clenching. No… she didn’t. God, why was Vi always so harsh? It wasn’t like the biting cold strictness of those damned Zaun teachers either, but a throbing pain of a bruise that refused to heal, a splatter of yellow and purple splotching. And Vi always managed to jab her where it hurt most, after all, Vander taught Vi how to fight, not Powder. She couldn’t help it, a silent tear rolled down her cheek, streaking and cleaning the dirt that settled in her pores.
“Great, and now the crybaby’s going at it.” Mylo sighed.
“Shut up!” Powder screamed, embarrassment rosying on her cheeks. She threw a pillow, only for it to tap his shoulder, barely grazing him.
“How come you can only aim good with a pistol in hand?” Mylo egged her on, rolling his eyes as she sobbed harder, and tried again, missing completely this time as it harmlessly ploofed to the floor, “Seriously, you’ve caught a jinx. That's why all our little outings go sideways.”
Mylo’s eyes met with Vi, with an indescribable expression on her face, but it shut him up well and quick. “Pow-Pow, I didn’t mean to say it like that… I miss them too.” Her arms opened tentatively for a hug. Powder crashed into them without a second thought.
“You never take me seriously, all of you!” She whispered, hoarse.
A pain seemed to eat at Vi. It seemed that she didn’t keep her guard up at all times.
Powder stayed in Vi’s arms a moment longer, her quiet sobs muffled against her sister’s shirt. She hated crying in front of everyone, hated feeling small, but Vi’s warmth reminded her of the rare moments of calm they used to share—before the Enforcers cast their long shadow over their lives. Her tears slowed as she clung to Vi, as if letting go would mean losing that fragile comfort.
“Okay, okay,” Vi muttered, pulling back and brushing a hand over Powder’s tear-streaked face. She offered a small, apologetic smile, though guilt flickered behind her eyes. “No more tears, alright? I didn’t mean to be so hard on you, Pow-Pow. I’m sorry.”
Powder sniffled, wiping at her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if she believed the apology entirely—Vi could be so stubborn—but the softness in her sister’s voice soothed her, at least a little. She glanced at Mylo, who had the good sense to keep quiet for once, and then back at Vi.
“You’re always making fun at me,” Powder whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s like… it’s like you don’t think I can do anything right.”
Vi’s face tightened, a pang of regret hitting her hard. “That’s not true,” she said quietly, crouching down off the couch so they were eye to eye. “You’re smarter than any of us, Powder. I just… I get scared sometimes, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“You don’t have to be scared,” Powder said, her voice small but firm. “I can help. I want to help. But you never listen to me.”
Vi opened her mouth to argue, but the look on Powder’s face—those wide, tearful eyes full of hurt—made her stop. She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright,” she said finally, her tone softening. “What about the thing you mentioned earlier? The cave.”
Powder blinked, surprised. “You mean it?”
“Yeah,” Vi said, though her jaw tightened like she was already regretting it. “If it’s that important to you, we’ll check it out. Together. But just to look. No going off on your own, and if it’s dangerous, we’re out of there. Got it?”
Powder’s face lit up, a smile breaking through the remnants of her tears. “Really? You mean it?”
“I just said I did, didn’t I?” Vi ruffled her hair, though her grin was a little forced. “But you owe me for this, Pow. Big time.”
“Deal!” Powder chirped, practically bouncing on her heels now.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Mylo cut in, raising a hand like he’d just been asked to sign his death warrant. “You’re telling me we’re going down to the creepy coal mines because Powder saw something shiny? She’s not exactly a lucky charm, are you out of your mind, Vi?”
“She needs this,” Vi said, her voice firm. “And if you’re too much of a coward to come, then stay here. Claggor and I can handle it.”
“Hey, I didn’t say I was scared,” Mylo shot back, puffing up his flat chest. “I’m just saying it’s a dumb idea. But fine, if we’re all gonna die in some cave… might as well do it together.”
Claggor, who had been watching the exchange quietly, finally spoke up. “You’re sure about this, Vi? Those mines are dangerous, and Vander wouldn’t be happy if he found out.”
“I’ll deal with Vander,” Vi said, brushing off the concern. “Right now, I’m more worried about those Enforcers. Powder could really have something here, have some hope guys.”
“Right…” Mylo glanced over cautiously at Powder, at her feeble limbs that were as clumsy and thin as sticks, at the scrapes along her elbows and knees from tripping, and even the little metal sac of junk she had pocketed, “...Hope.”
Powder glared back at him, and stuck out her tongue.
Claggor nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Alright. But we do this smart, yeah? No rushing in blind.”
“Smart, yeah we’re pretty streetsmart, we’ve got this!” Vi said, though the grin creeping back onto her face betrayed her eagerness for action. She turned to Powder, who was practically vibrating with excitement now. “You ready to lead the way, Pow?”
Powder nodded eagerly, her earlier sadness forgotten in the face of Vi’s rare willingness to listen. “You won’t regret this, Vi! I promise.”
Vi chuckled, slinging an arm around her sister’s shoulders as they headed for the door. “You better be right about that, Pow. Or I’ll be dragging your butt back up here faster than you can say ‘shiny blue rock.’” Mylo pretended to gag himself in the background at the cheesiness, to which Claggor ignored.
As the group gathered their things and prepared to head out, Powder couldn’t stop smiling. For the first time in what felt like forever, Vi was listening to her. She didn’t know what they’d find in the mines, but at least they’d be looking together. And that, for now, was enough.
Was it?