Flash Fiction Friday: "Flashes of Inspiration" No. 17

Prompt: "You come from a family of highly respected heroes. All three of your big brothers are known as Powerhouses, but you rarely see them since they're always saving the world. One day, you realize that the only way to see all of your brothers is to become a villain. Turns out, you're better at it than you thought, and family dinners suddenly become the most amusing time of day."

#17: "The Legacy of Heroes"

What's it like being the offspring of two of the greatest generation of superheroes ever to save the Earth (and several alternates)? Let me tell you.
My father is Dynamo. With just a touch, he could tap into the volatility of any substance, superheating or exploding it on contact. That also meant he was, himself, impervious to heat, pressure, or any kind of shrapnel. My mother is Vitessa--She has the power to manipulate natural elements.
When Dynamo and Vitessa announced their engagement, the world collectively lost its shit. It was all anyone would ever talk about, people making predictions about how long the relationship would last, then posting "HASHTAG RELATIONSHIP GOALS" on every picture of my mother and father together. They were the world's Number 1 Cute Couple. People wouldn't stop reposting their engagement photos. After the wedding, things kind of simmered down as Dynamo and Vitessa balanced out their new relationship with their function as international superheroes.
Then when Dynamo announced that Vitessa was expecting their first child, interest resurged. Speculation ran wild as to what kind of combinations of powers the kid would have, since a union between two different superpowers had never happened before.
As it turned out, a child of two superheroes could still develop powers that were as unique to him as the individual powers of his parents.

By the age of three, James could punch through walls and lift cars.
Vitessa announced the birth of their second child, John, who wasn't even toilet trained before his ability manifested: telekinesis and teleportation. He could go anywhere and move anything with a thought.
By the time their third son, Joseph, manifested his powers of weather manipulation, it became clear that the three of them would be inseparable, and they were all ready at a fairly young age to take up Dynamo's mantle and continue the family legacy in their own right. They were known as The Powerhouses, and they each took on new Superhero names: Basher, Blink, and Billow.

Everyone was so caught up in the wonder and glory of it all, that hardly anyone noticed the announcement of a fourth child--me.

You'd think there would be a whole new swell of interest, since I was the only girl after these three hulking boys--but no. Even my powers seemed destined to go unnoticed. I had telepathy, of a particularly potent sort: I could make someone think or feel how I wanted them to think or feel, and I had the charisma to even tame wild animals to my will. I could alter someone's perception of me, so that I could talk straight to their faces for hours, and when I walked away, they wouldn't even remember what I looked like.

Did it get me any attention? Did anyone think it was cool? By the time I was self-aware enough to know what was going on, my parents were used to feeling a certain way around me, and they had long since took that to mean I didn't have any powers at all.
Of course, by then my brothers had established themselves as an unstoppable and inseparable unit. They were the ones the nations called when there was trouble, and they were so good at what they did that the world had no need for anyone else--least of all the Powerhouses' Little Sister.

So naturally, I did what any woman with inexhaustible charisma and absolutely no opposition would do in my situation: I tallied my strengths, took stock of my abilities, found my niche, and exploited it for all it was worth.

Which brings us to today, one of the monthly family dinners we would have, the one time my brothers would deign to set aside their superhero duties and give mom the attention she deserved for raising them, while also letting Dad live vicariously through their escapades.

Jim arrived first, careful to punch the reinforced gong over the gate that my parents had set up, after he broke the front door, shoved the doorbell through to the mudroom, and frightened my mom so badly when he just walked into the house "unannounced" that a giant beanstalk took over the family room and ruined dinner. The crashing metal absorbed and redistributed his powers, so that he could enter the house without crushing it.

"Mom? Dad?" His booming voice resounded through the house. "I'm home!"

I sauntered downstairs, giving him a shy grin. He had Dad's chiseled physique and stark-blonde hair that he kept gelled until it was stiff. He gave me the dashing one-hundred-watt smile that was basically the only way he could do it anymore. "Hey, Little Sis! How are things?"

I smiled. "Things are good, Jim. How is your life?"

He laughed and thrust his hands into the reinforced pockets of his jeans, his pecs and biceps nearly bursting out of the red t-shirt he wore. "That's going to have to wait till dinner," he reminded me. "Where's Mom?"

She came out then, holding a bowl while the salad practically manifested itself under her influence. "I'm here. Oh Jim, it's good to see you! Glad you could make it!"

He smiled again. "Of course I would! It's family dinner--and no crisis is more important than family!"

Mom chuckled, but then her face soured and she waved toward him. "Shut the door," she muttered quickly, "I smell your brother coming."

Jim just walked through the front room toward Dad's "man cave" at the back of the house as if he hadn't heard. I shut the door just in time to feel a heavy bolt of lighting slam into it, followed by a cascade of hail. I waited until I heard the doorbell ring, and opened it to behold my brother Joe standing there, tucking in the tails of his bright-printed shirt, while no less than three rainbows spread across a clear blue sky.

He smirked at me. "Did I get him? Please tell me I got him."

I shook my head. "Mom felt you coming and got me to close the door."

"Awww!" He whined. "I knew I shouldn't have taken the tornado! But I was in France and it was too far for a simple windstorm..."

"France?" I tilted my head and kept my voice casual. "What was in France?"

The smirk disappeared. "France? Who said anything about--I mean... Nothing. Just some, ah, routine... superhero... stuff." He fumbled over his words, fidgeting with his collar. "Mom need any help?"

I shrugged. "You could ask."

"I think I will."

Dad and Jim came out of the man cave, deep in conversation. "...And then I tossed him across two pyramids, and finally, the flames went out, and I could get my hands around his neck."

"You don't say! Man, I've been wanting to take a crack at the guy for years!"

"Well, sorry to disappoint, Dad--he's confessed everything he's ever done by now, so that threat's been neutralized."

"Lucky! It's not every day a hero gets to go up against a Pyro--and win!"

Jim ground his fists against each other, generating a wave of heat we could all feel. "That's why they call me a Powerhouse," he gushed.

Mom interposed with a grin. "Speaking of power... How are the steaks coming along, Dearest?" She nailed my dad with a look.

Dad practically melted in front of her. "Uh, just about ready!" He scurried out the back door, to the barbecue. Mom scoffed and started setting the rest of the food in the middle of the table set with plates.

I peeked out the side window. Dad hauled the frozen steaks out of the ice box, set them on the grill, and lit the coals with flames from his own hands. I saw him watch it heat for a moment, then--after checking over his shoulders without seeing anyone--he touched each steak and it instantly turned from red and ice-crusted to a nice, toasty brown.

"Vanessa!" Mom called from the kitchen. "Count the places at the table, I think we're short one!"

I did, and counted five plates. Of course we were short. I pulled an extra place setting out of the cabinets, just as Dad came waltzing back into the house. "Meat's ready!"

"Let's eat!" Jim cried happily. We all shuffled into the dining room.

"What about Blink?" Joe asked.

Mom sighed. "Late again, I suppose." She gestured to the living chandelier over the table, and the phosphorescent bulbs glowed as brightly as electric lights. We sat around the table, leaving a space open for Jack, whenever he cared to arrive. The empty plate happened to fall between Joe and I.

"Can I get the rolls?" he asked.

I went to hand him the basket, when another pair of hands intercepted it.

Jack--his red hair darker than ever, almost auburn--grinned like an amateur doing his first party trick as he appeared in the chair and snatched a roll as if he had been there the whole time.

"Mmm, don't mind if I do," he murmured. "Food looks great, Mom!" He glanced around as if he expected us to say something. One of us always did--but then again, he always did the same thing every time, and by now it was getting old.

At any rate, Dad could start the usual conversation, now that all of his sons were present. "How's the world-saving business these days?"

"As safe as it ever was!" Jack commented wryly.

"You and Mom left some pretty big shoes to fill, if you don't mind my saying, Dad," mused Joe.

Jim munched on his steak and said nothing.

Mom noticed. "Is everything all right?"

My oldest brother--and the recognized leader of the Powerhouses--gave a grim sigh. "We were gaining the upper hand on the Chaos Brotherhood, until Nemesis managed to get his hands on the Orb of Saint-Marceau," he confessed.

"The Doomsday device?" Dad gasped. "What would a villain like Nemesis want with it?"

"That's what I'd like to know!" Joe grunted. "I mean, we thought he was just another overlord bent on world-domination--but then why steal a Doomsday device that is basically a reboot on reality?"

"Maybe he doesn't know that it would kill him, too?" Mom mused.

Jack laughed. "That's impossible! Nemesis might not be noble or altruistic, but he's definitely smart enough to know what he wants."

"And that's what's hard," Jim went on, a faint whine creeping into his voice. "Every time we think we know what Nemesis is up to, he changes the game, as if this new thing is what he had been planning the whole time! He's got layers upon layers of shadow-puppet organizations that we haven't even begun to crack, and each time we get close, it's like he knows we're coming and already has contingencies in place for everything he does."

"Not this time, though," Jack declared staunchly, shoving a large wad of potatoes into his mouth.

"This time?" Dad asked, so thoroughly engrossed in the conversation that he wasn't even eating anymore. "What's different?"

"We have something that will up the ante," Joe said. "A secret weapon, if you will."

Mom raised an eyebrow. "Another piece of technology? I would think you'd have tried them all by now. Everything so far has been hacked by one or another of Nemesis' allies."

"I wouldn't call them allies, though," Jim mused bitterly. "Allies is too strong a word for the way he runs his network. Minions, more like. But don't worry; this particular weapon cannot be hacked."

"What is it?" Dad voiced the very question I had been thinking.

Joe grinned. "An Oracle--a girl in France who has visions of the past and the future."

Dad looked puzzled. "Not the present?"

"No, ironically enough," the youngest Powerhouse answered. "She's blind from birth."

"And sometimes she has trouble discerning whether the vision she sees is the future or the past," Jack noted. "But we have a cross-referencing team who can usually search the past, and if it's nowhere there, then we know that she is seeing the future."

Jim grinned. "And if we compile enough future-visions, we can predict when and where Nemesis might strike next."

"Wow!" Dad's eyes shone with pride. "To think that my sons will have a part in unmasking the identity of the worlds greatest criminal kingpin!"

"Oh you bet!" Joe waved his fork emphatically. "If anybody's perfectly suited to taking down Nemesis, it has got to be the Powerhouse Boys!"

"HOO-RAH!" Jack and Jim pumped their fists in the air, causing a small explosion to rock the room and extinguish the chandelier, plunging the room into darkness.

"Boys!" Mom complained. "How many times do I have to tell you, no extraneous use of powers at the table!"

In the scramble for another light source, I took the opportunity to excuse myself. Mom always made us keep our phones in the office during family dinners. She said it encouraged us to talk more--but I had a very important message to send. I selected the group text containing a select few of my most important friends.

Well, friends was a strong word. "Minions", I guess you would call them.

"Big News!" I typed. "Live Package Located France. Female. Blind. Need Verification Before We Can Proceed." After a moment of weighing the cost, I signed off, "-Nemesis"

Like I said: it's a niche, it suited my powers, and I exploited it. Besides, who says a girl in a family of heroes can't become the "world's greatest criminal kingpin"?

I kind of liked that moniker. I'd have to work it into an evil monologue at some point.

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