Werewolf - Tides of Change
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"Werewolf - Tides of Change"

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 A whisper of discretion...

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Posts : 740
Join date : 2011-04-14

PostSubject: A whisper of discretion...   Wed 27 Apr 2011, 3:27 pm

Shhh! Quiet, do you want them to hear us? I'm not supposed to be here, strictly speaking. If you're going to be technical about it. But I was never here, right? Good. I wanted to give you a tip. Something I learned the hard way.

I had my first change when I was 14. Yeah, not that long ago, but earlier than anyone I've met. Looking back, it's no surprise really that I was what we are now. I had your typical life of hard knocks and bruises. Parents? Never met them - my earliest memories are from growing up in an orphanage, of playing marbles with my fellow motherless children in a concrete courtyard.

I used to be damn good at marbles.

I guess you could say that my childhood wasn't exactly what you'd call fun. I played nice with the other children there, but I never really fitted in, even when I was little. That, and the Sisters who ran the place drove me crazy, bless them. I'm thankful for providing me with what nobody else could (for whatever reason), but I still flinch at the sight of a metre ruler. I had to find ways to entertain myself. Magic always fascinated me - card tricks, tricks with cups and balls, you name it. There was something so very special about being able to enthral the heart in a brief act of deception, a misdirection that people could believe in. It was a good distraction from my own life.

Naturally, I had about as much money as I did fairy dust - but I managed to earn some small income by performing on the corner outside the orphanage. I think some people took pity on me, and others just paid up because I was a cute little girl. It didn't really matter to me, seeing as how I was getting their money. It gave me a good supply of candy each week, which I would share on occasion. The occasions started accumulating, and because I felt guilty turning the other kids away, there soon wasn't enough left to go around. The Sisters certainly were never going to support our cravings (candy was the devil), nor would they approve of my 'profession' were they to ever catch on (magic was also the devil).

I was only 13 when I committed my first act of crime. I saw a man walking along the street, and I noticed his wallet fall through the pocket of his trench coat. Picking it up, there was a moment when I reached out to hand it back to him, but no words came from me when I noticed the twenty sticking out. I had never held so much money in my life! I thought of all the candy that I could buy with it, and it wasn't long before I was running down the street to the dairy. It was like Christmas had come early when I returned to the orphanage. I was surprised the Sisters didn't hear all the commotion. I was a hero.

Of course, having provided such a feast, the pressure was on to repeat the performance. I waited for a week in the hopes that someone else would drop their money, but it never happened again. One day, a young lady was waiting to cross the road, her purse dangling dangerously off her arm. The temptation was simply too much - when nobody was looking, I reached in and swiped her wallet. Oh, it was a rush like nothing else I had experienced. I had a thin, wiry frame, thanks partially to the shit that I ate, so it was very easy to move through a crowd without drawing attention. Again, I returned that day with candy practically falling out of my pockets. They all loved me.

One incident of pick pocketing lead to another. A few months later, I was coming up with more ways to con people out of their money - scams that played on their heartstrings and their purse strings. I quickly became a mastermind of the petty theft world, even getting a few of the younger kids to help me pull a few of them off. I had never seen so much candy in my life.

It wasn't until about a year later that I finally got caught in the act. Late one night I was trailing an easy mark - a rather large looking man who I'd spotted throwing his wallet in with his shopping bags as he left a store. He was pretty intimidating, but the bag would be easy to get into. I stood leaning against the side of a building, kicking a can absently as he wandered past. I gave a little bit of distance, and then fell in behind him. The longer I had been committing my little acts of petty theft, the more I had come to enjoy the whole process, from scouting out a good mark, tracking them down, the delicacy of relieving them of their belongings, and the rush of getting away with it all.

So, as I was saying, I moved in behind this big guy. He was definitely not the sort you'd want to meet in a dark alley at night - fortunately for me, dark alleys worked to my advantage. Suddenly, just as my nimble hand was reaching into his bag, he stopped to avoid crashing into someone who unexpectedly moved out in front of him. As you might guess, I slammed right into him, stumbling backwards and causing him to drop his bag in the process. Surprised, he turned around with a confused expression on his face. In a panic, I grabbed his wallet and ran.

"Hey! Get back here, you little runt!" he bellowed after me. My heart raced as he gave chase - suddenly, I was the prey. I ducked and dived through pedestrians with ease as he charged through them, my feet barely touching the pavement. Gasping for breath, I dodged an old woman with a poodle, and ran around into a dark alleyway. There was a dumpster at the end! I leapt up to try and climb in, only to realise it was full. With footsteps hot behind me, and, to my despair, a dead end in front, I did the only thing I could do, and hid behind the end of the dumpster.

I didn't dare to breathe as the man neared my hiding spot. It was like Jurassic Park, when the kids are hiding from the dinosaurs in the kitchen. Curled up tight, I looked up at the blank night sky, bracing myself for a beating that would make the Sisters seem charitable. The moon wasn't even out. Figures something that big could hide better than I could, something so small. The man crept slowly just around the corner, checking the dumpster.

"I know you're in here, you little brat," he growled deeply.

It was at that moment that I realised that the moon was in the sky, it was just impossible to notice. As I strained my vision to glimpse it, I realised that I could hide in plain sight too... I didn't understand it, it was simply something that I knew to be true. At that instant, the man came around to stare directly at me. I froze up, and couldn't have moved if I'd wanted to. For a moment, his harsh face just looked at me... or rather, through me. He gave no indication that he saw me at all. After a brief pause, he moved on, to scour the rest of the alley. Could it have been a trick of the light? But he was right there, in front of me...

Eventually, with a few choice curse words, he turned away from the dark alley and left for the street. I peered around the corner of the dumpster, amazed at what had just happened. Either way, I had to get out of there. Thanking the moon, I moved towards the dead end, where a rotten fence blocked my escape. There was a hole in the bottom, which I might just have been able to squeeze through... and then, I was falling forwards with a gasp as my legs buckled and changed shape, and fur sprouted all over my body. Within moments my old clothes had torn, left with a suddenly discarded wallet, a tail erupting from me. Terrified, unable to comprehend what was happening, I squeezed through the hole in the fence with my new form, before taking off at speed.

I ran halfway around central Auckland that night, taking in a new world of sights, sounds, and especially smells. I had never been more amazed or afraid in my life until then! The truly impressive feat was just how I managed to avoid the people of the city, darting between the shadows as if they were a second home. Eventually, I made my way back to the orphanage, which I managed to sneak into. The very next day, a 'long lost family member' showed up to adopt me. I could sense that something was different about him - that he was like me, whatever I was. I went with him, and haven't looked back since.

What's the moral of the story? Come on, all stories have a moral. We can do some pretty amazing things now, you and I. We're quite literally not of this world... partially. But we can't rely on our power to survive. We have to be clever. Subtle. Cautious. Could you imagine how bad it would be if word suddenly got out that we existed? It would be the end for us. We're all going to have to find our own path on the road of destiny, or whatever the hell you want to say - just be careful not to get caught along the way, okay? It only takes one slip up before it could all be over. Tread lightly, and keep your senses open.
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