The Art of Searching [Finished]

[Bee]

Ezra had decided to walk the darker side of the law. His more legal attempts at finding something to interest him had so far amounted to nothing, so he thought that perhaps his destiny was to live the life of a petty criminal or vandal. He had found some spray paint and a nice wall to deface, but all he had ended up doing was staring at the wall for three hours and eventually painting a question mark.

It was then that he conceived of theivery--an all-together more exciting form of crime--and after spending a good deal of time finding an ideal victim, he had managed to get his hands on some bipedal sheep's purse and had disappeared around a corner.

He couldn't even work up the motivation to rifle through its contents. He sighed, and considered returning it to the woman. But she was probably long-gone, having a fit over her missing items. It had been a large crowd.

He tossed the purse in a nearby trash can. It wasn't worth the effort. Maybe he needed to rob a bank or something.

[Dark]

His mother explained his indifference as untapped, unparalleled genius, completely unchallenged by the simplicity of today's society. Apparently, acting out was his way of dealing with this lack of stimulation. While Hadyn would like to agree with that assessment, he wasn't as overly confident in hidden talents as his mother seemed to be.

He didn't have any direction in his life, and it bothered him. But not enough to do anything about it. So when he saw the weasel lift the woman's purse and then indifferently dispose of it, he felt mildly intrigued. It almost looked like he'd just...lost interest.

He slipped out of the shadows where he'd been sulking the last couple hours, hopping down from the fire escape where he'd been watching the crowds ebb by, distantly wondering how they'd all react if he tossed a pipe bomb into the middle of it all.

"Why'd you do it?"

[Bee]

He was startled by the boy's sudden appearance, but acclimated fairly quickly. The kid's coat was terribly bright, red and orange and yellow, like a Morganberry, like some kind of walking sunset. With horns. And an elongated neck. Freakshow sunset. The dead embers of his interest in painting almost sparked to some kind of dull little life, but they didn't quite make the journey. Morganberry coloring sometimes reminded him of autumn, too, when things began to die, but not enough to try to immortalize it.

To Freakshow Sunset, he shrugged. "I was hoping I would like it." His voice was breathy and mumbling because of the chain. With luck the little freakshow would understand what he said and not be put off. He tilted his head to the side in curiosity, as a question of his own sprung to mind. "Do you make a habit of lurking in the shadows?"

[Dark]

Hadyn gave a noncommittal grunt, "When it suits me."

Truth be told, he liked sneaking around in the darkened recesses of the world. And he liked to think he was rather good at it. Where his home and his family and his many pseudo-siblings were concerned, he'd learned very early on how to slip away undetected. Just walking out the front door seemed to garner a certain amount of unwanted attention, and a successful escape had become a matter of survival. So, stealth.

He wasn't as good as he'd like to be, though. He didn't have enough patience, and he might never.

Regardless, the weasel had piqued a small spark of curiosity. Why would he try such a potentially risky endeavor, just to see if he liked doing it? It seemed ludicrous, really, but at the same time Hadyn felt a small thrill of delight. Maybe this was what he had been looking for.

"Why risk it?"

[Bee]

"Everyone has something they're good at." Well, most people. There were the excessively and relentlessly talentless in this world, and Ezra had met some of them--and had seen their art, and their writing, and their sad attempt at singing. He did not want to deal with those people. It made him sad. "I was hoping that this would be my calling. It appears that it is not."

He glanced around the small alleyway, dark and dank and mostly private. He could talk to Freakshow and not worry about being overheard. He wished the kid weren't so bright--he might attract undue attention, even just out of the corner of someone's eye. People tended to leave Torquehelms alone. He continued speaking, in the plain manner of one discussing the stages of pie-making. "Would you like to help me try something bigger? I was thinking perhaps of official robbery. How do you feel about weaponry and hostage-taking?"

[Dark]

Hadyn answered more out of surprise than anything else, "I'm not adverse to it, actually. Why--what did you have in mind?"

And, really, his mother would kill him if she knew he was even contemplating to participate in such a blatant thumb in the law's direction. If was a bit hard to hide the culprits in a bank robbery--Hadyn's coat was distinct, and Torquehelms tended to garner a certain type of attention as a result of the dark cloud that seemed to constantly follow them around.

He shifted his weight, trying to disperse the mist that had started to gently lick at his heels. His ability to freeze the living bejesus out of people had been a late-blooming ability, and it didn't show what he was a great deal of effectiveness. It didn't help his frame of mind that he didn't seem to not have complete control over the ability: a constant, chilling mist trailed behind him where ever he went, and if he paused too long would begin to condense.

It did, generally, allot him a bigger personal bubble at home. Helena, though--Helena said it strengthened his enigmatic allure, and just wore sweaters.

"We aren't exactly inconspicuous, you know."

[Bee]

"Perhaps a bank robbery would not be a good way to start," he said, thoughtfully. The kids was right. They were conspicuous. Freakshow, especially. They should probably start with a more low-profile and witness-free kind of robbery, and work their way up if they found that it was something they enjoyed doing. A store that had closed up for the night, perhaps. Or--

"We can go to uptown," said Ezra, "under the cover of nightfall. Most socialites will be out at dinner parties. I'm sure we can find a suitable apartment to raid. You can take whatever you can get your hands on, naturally."

With a bit of luck, the police wouldn't show up and be so startled by the sight of some dreary weasel and some brightly-colored child that they shot them dead on sight. Ezra was not keen on the idea of ending up as a blood splatter on some stranger's walls.

[Dark]

Hadyn considered the proposal, and nodded his assent. Considering they were both amateurs, a more subtle approach to the art of thievery much more highly advised. And sneaking into an unoccupied house would be much less dangerous than robbing a bank in broad daylight--they had less a chance of being shot that way.

"Alright. East or West side, then?"

The East side was primarily the home of doctors and lawyers and well-standing business men, while the West side was dominated by old-wealth families, and the rich and famous.

"Maybe the West side; they have quite a few eccentric, elderly gents living in the older houses. Might have some interesting objects tucked away from their youth."

They'd have to approach from the alley side, to avoid detection--the police were did do sweeps of the area, but not at all as frequently as they did the main road the houses were situated on. That, and the front was well lit by the rustic carotene street lamps.

[Bee]

West Side sounded like a good plan. Plenty of old wealth to pick from. They slid through the alleys quickly and quietly--not that there was any reason for haste, really. They weren't going to go about their business until nightfall. He was almost...excited. He hoped he liked stealth and robbery. If he could rob the elderly of both their well-earned and ill-got wealth, then he could steal anything.

Of course, he had felt this tiny thrill of hope and anticipation before, and it always ended the same way: in curious indifference, and then in disappointment that he had been unable to feel anything other than curious indifference.

He turned to Freakshow. For a moment he considered asking his name, but Freakshow worked just as well. Whatever his name actually was, it probably wouldn't fit nearly so well.

"We should find a place to rest and plot more thoroughly before the sunset. Do you see anything nearby?"

[Dark]

Hadyn had inherited his mother's affinity for coffee and pastry, and so he lead them, in fairly linear fashion, to the nearest cafe. His body felt charged with anticipation, and he found his step to be lighter than it had been in years. He hadn't felt this jubilated since, well, since he'd blown up the park. It was a heady sensation.

He ordered the daily special, a peppermint mocha, that he actually found to be quite tasty. Sitting in one of the further removed corners of the lounge, he sipped at his drink and contemplated their course of action. His whole body was thrumming, and the coffee was making it even harder to hold still.

They should probably look for an older house, one of the ancient mausoleums that had fallen in disrepair but still somehow managed to look foreboding. It would be the home of some cloistered in old man, jealously hording his treasure until death.