Almost Origins

Part 2

Several Days Later

I know that I'm, technically speaking, a kid. Minor and all of that. High School drop out too I guess. Still, for all of my institutionally described lack of maturity, even I know that one is better off acting with a plan than winging it. It is for this reason, more than any other, that I followed my declaration of super powered revenge (or at least, theft) with days of library and public records research. Low and behold, I managed to learn that estate settlement was a complicated mess. For instance, I learned that Alan was under no obligation to accept my Dad's estate. Considering the debt that went with it, you would think he would just waive his rights, go to a memorial ceremony, and call it a day.

But no, it couldn't be that simple.

There was a good bit of noise suggesting that the Congress, at the behest of the PRT, was going to make a portion of Endbringer Relief Funds available for the families of the victims. If Alan waived his rights to the estate, he also waived any relief money that would conceivably be going towards the estate. At first I'll admit this didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. After all, why would my family be due any money? It's not like anyone was around to need the relief. Then it hit me…..I was still here. More research into the subject reinforced that interpretation. While most of the victims were identifiable, many were not. My Dad could be picked out….the shell that I had broken out of might have been me, or it could have been someone else. With that uncertainty in mind, Alan could argue that I was still out there somewhere (to be fair…..he would be right), and that he needed to receive any relief funds I was due in order to care for me when or if I'm found.

Dick.

The idea of money for Dad, money for me…..going to pay for Emma's photoshoots….. I quickly fled the library, making it to the alley before I lost the contents of my stomach. Taking a few moments to collect myself, I took stock of the situation. Being considered missing or dead worked for me. No need to go back to Winslow, no need to eat a shit sandwich on a daily basis. While the shelter worked for now, I would prefer to have a place of my own, to support myself. I also wanted to grab some pieces of my life to have with me. I took a moment and concentrated, the low golden glow suffusing me as my body changed shape. With a plan taking shape in my mind, people saw Principle Blackwell walk out of the alley and head down the street.

Money makes the world go round. Nasty truth of life, but there it is. If I wanted to get started on my plans, funding would be essential. Resolved to this course of action, I skulked through the Oaks of Marymont, an affluent subdivision located on the south side of Brockton. The houses here were easily worth $350,000 or more. Expensive luxury cars sat in driveways, a manned guard booth between the gates allowing ingress and egress. Of course that (I assume) highly paid guard did little good when I dashed through a small drainage pipe at the bottom of the communities wall. I had managed to cobble together a costume. It wasn't the best thing in the world, but it kind of went with the super powered criminal motif. Still, the plan was to burgle some homes, not fight Capes in the street, so subdued was the order of the day. Some black combat boots from the Salvation Army, cheap black leggings pulled up to the waist. Black t-shirt with a golden lightning bolt down the middle. I had recognized it as belonging to some band Dad had liked as a kid (at least, based on the way he would belt out the lyrics when they came on the car radio). Black biker jacket which had been liberally patched with electrical tape, zipped most of the way up. A simple domino mask completed the costume, with a small application of my power slightly changing my skin tone and the color of my hair. Instead of being incredibly pale with brown hair, I now had a decent tan going on while my hair went almost as black as my clothes.

For an outfit which had cost me a whopping $5.00 (for the leggings), I felt pretty bad ass. Of course I had to hold that feeling of badassery on the inside. If things went according to plan, no one would get to see my costume until after it had been upgraded a few times.

Sadly I hadn't been able to scout the neighborhood very thoroughly. Was scout the right word? Case maybe… Yes, I hadn't been able to case the neighborhood that well. No public busses came here, and it just seemed obvious that, this being an exclusive housing area, new people might be noticed. Still, I had managed to hitch a ride on a delivery truck the previous day, so I already had a few houses picked out.

First up was a very impressive looking two story affair, complete with a fenced in backyard, pool, detached guest house, fancy hedges, and flood lights as far as the eye could see. As far as I could tell, the floodlights had the ground completely covered. Sure, I could shrink down and probably hide in the grass…..but where was the fun in that? Instead I called on skills honed a lifetime ago, in the park not too far from Emma's house.

I climbed a tree.

It was located in a wooded patch about 300 feet from the edge of the property. Easily reaching 80 feet into the air, the lowest branches were more than twice my height from the ground. I dashed low to the ground until I was on the side of the tree opposite the house, mostly hidden from the street. Then I reached up…...and kept reaching. Trends in my power were starting to make themselves known. For instance, the soft golden light that I emitted when using it was more pronounced the greater a change in type I performed. Radical changes, say from baseline Taylor to Bitch Queen Sophia, and I was a dull firefly. Stretch a limb, blow up a fist, or otherwise just jack with the rough dimensions of myself? Very subdued glow. Even so, I moved as quickly as I could, pulling myself up onto the first branch, then making my way higher, mostly in my normal shape. Once I got ¾ of the way up the tree, it was time to trade one childhood pastime for another. Hidden by the branches, a again glowed briefly as I shrank down to only a few inches in height, running along a branch towards the house. Coming to the edge of the branch I leapt into the air. Stretching myself as thin as I could, feeling the air catch me. While it was something that I couldn't legitimately do with my powers, for this moment I was 8 years old again.

I pretended I could fly.

It took some doing, but I managed to glide through the air towards the house. Seeing that I was in danger of overshooting my target, I stretched out my right arm and grabbed the chimney, the sudden tensions causing me to bank sharply through the air, until I touched down quietly onto the roof. Flattening myself, I pressed my ear hard against the surface and listened.

Nothing but the hum of a central air and heat unit. Climbing up onto the chimney, I dropped down into the house.

Ho, ho, ho.

Stepping out onto the hearth, I took a moment to dust off as much soot as I could. Then, I noticed the white carpet.

Fuck.

Necessity being the mother of invention though, a solution quickly came to mind. I peeled my boots off one at a time, then concentrated on my power. I felt my feet pulse briefly before taking on the appearance of the boots I had just removed. Leaving the dirty ones in front of the fireplace, I moved into the house.

Not going to lie, I practiced the hell out of this before coming here. Not the breaking and entering part….with my powers that part seemed obvious. More like, I practiced the, "leaving with more than I showed up with," part. The concept seemed intuitive based on how my powers work. I grow big (there had to be a better way of prasing that), my clothes and stuff grows big. I shrink, same thing. I ultimately determined that I could similarly grow and shrink about 100 pounds worth of shit, so long as it was contained in some way. There were limitations. I couldn't grow or shrink it unless I was growing (biggining?) or shrinking. If I shrank something down and then dropped it, it would stay small….until I went to sleep. Also it didn't work on anything alive that wasn't me.

With all of this in mind, I pulled a large sack out of my jacket pocket and shook it open. It would be less than honest if I didn't admit to a strong desire to paint a large dollar sign on the side of the sack. Ultimately I decided it wouldn't be appropriate for burglary. Creeping through the house, I noted the nice things it was filled with. The TV, computers (plural), plates that I secretly suspected of being china, fur coats….basically I noted everything. Compared to what I had grown up with, everything was nice.

Priorities though.

Two of the laptops went into the sack, along with a cellphone. A wallet was located and made $300 lighter. I was tempted to take the credit cards, but instead just took pictures of their front and back with the phone. The TV wouldn't fit in my sack…..or Dad's car…..or my bedroom probably, so it was left where it was. The HD-DVD player went into the sack though. Making my way upstairs, I crept as soundlessly as I could (true fact: I creep pretty damn soundlessly). There were four bedrooms upstairs, a hall bath, a game room room, and an office. From the gameroom several gaming systems decided they would rather leave with me. One bedroom had a sleeping baby in it. I noped right out of that one. Bedroom two had some late elementary or early middle school kid asleep in the bed. Based on her closet, she was a private school kid (go figure). Based on the very expensive looking rosary…..Catholic? So Immaculata bound probably. I slipped the rosary into my bag, only feeling a little more guilty over it than the other items. I'm sure she could get another one.

The third bedroom was empty.

Furnished, but empty.

At one time it had been the bedroom of a boy, as evidenced by several pictures in frames and the general sense of "boyness" that it gave off. I say at one time, because as far as I could tell no one used it now. The dresser was empty, the closet bare of everything, including hangers. I was about to leave the room when a conversation I once overheard between Greg and Sparky (regretfully overheard) decided to move to the forefront of my mind. Crossing back to the bed, I lifted the top mattress away from the boxspring.

Even knowing it wouldn't help, I still went into the bathroom and washed my eyes out. Last time I base any decision on a Greg or Sparky conversation. No money under the mattress, just…..magazines.

Two rooms left to check out. Master bedroom, and office. I hit the office first. It was…..nice? Bland but nice. Reddish wood desk, heavy chair, book cases filled with books. I looked the books over excitedly before noting most of them were medical reference books of one kind or another. Apparently I was stealing from a doctor. A third laptop joined the first two in my bag. On a whim I checked under the desk calendar and almost squeed.

Jackpot!

Doctor Information Security had written down passwords, bank account numbers and (conveniently labeled), a list of "secret questions." Again I snapped some pictures, then carefully put the desk calendar back where it was. Hopefully this would buy be a day or two to try and capitalize on his charity. Making my way into the master bedroom I decided not to mess around. A jewelry box was located, the contents quietly moved into my sack. A money clip was taken from the dresser, adding what looked to be another $500 to my haul. A loud snore made me jump…...and decide that my luck was already pressed to the limit. Turning my back on the bed, I made my way out of the room.

Retracing my steps through the house, I put my real boots back on and stepped into the chimney. Stretching my way towards the roof I elected to just step off the back of the house and into the woodline instead of repeating my glider trick. The sack of loot I was carrying made the aerodynamics of that move….tricky. Once in the woods, I glanced at my watch. I had climbed the tree at 15 minutes after 1 am. It was now just shy of 2:30am. All in all, not bad. I crept through the woods until I came to the short stretch of open grass I had to cross to reach the drainage pipe…

And came face to face with a thin figure, dressed black and red motley, her face painted an off-white. A large smile lit up her face, though her eyes were slightly narrowed and warry.

"You're new."

Author's note: And entry two into this story goes up. As you can see, this one is called Moonstone: An Almost Origin. Yes, this is Circus that she has encountered. In the first Moonstone story I put up, I had it built in that they had encountered each other before, on multiple occasions (not too many capes doing the cat burglar thing in the Bay). Circus will figure in the next installment of this story, but should make her exit fast enough. I will say that this won't be a repeat of what we saw the first time.

I'm aware that there isn't alot of action in this one. That should pick back up a little in the next one.