An Unlikely Apprentice [LordHavelock & SubWarp]

The manor home was tucked away in what was once probably an upscale suburb of one of Boston's more well-to-do districts. The low rise apartment buildings, retail shop fronts, and parking structures however which now stood around it had long since replaced similar homes and gardens and parks, but not for the better. On steady decline since the 80s, the streets were dingier now than they ever had been, the store fronts more haggard (those that remained) and while not nearly a 'bad' sort of neighborhood, was far from premium real-estate. The lone remaining manor home had built up high brick walls as if to shield itself in, topped with wrought iron fencing (complete with ornate but functional spikes) and then proceeded to grow a thick hide of dark ivy which left the whole of the building more or less concealed, apart from the very cusp of the second floor and slanted roof top, which still managed to convey a sense of Tudor regalia. This lone holdout passed the notice of just about everyone who lived there, with only the local children to whisper stories about whatever hermit or hag haunted it's halls, that is, until the school system and humdrum realities of urban sprawl rendered such imaginings moot. Apparently untouched by time and ignored by the present, no one was ever seen coming or going, but neither did the house appear to deteriorate, and every now and again, lights could be seen off and on in the top floor and attic, with whoever possibly lived their apparently hiding in plain sight from the world at large.

At least, hiding from most of the world. On the early November evening there was a brisk chill in the air, a reminder that Fall was in full swing, and that this was only the latest break in the rain and a portent of snows and flurries to come. Clouds covered most of the night sky, and what few remaining street lamps still worked along the lane could put out only the most pitiful of defiance against the oppressive dark of the overcast night, only a sliver of a moon to lighten the penumbra of night which settled over the whole of the neighborhood. A week night, and a quiet one at that, there was no traffic, foot or otherwise, and in the stillness and darkness, the manor home seemed almost to fade wholly into the background of the two neighboring buildings, with only the narrowest of alley's on it's left hand side. It would have been positively imposing to stand before it's gate on such an evening, but the reclusiveness which shrouded it from sight made it only a foreboding shadow within a shadow, to all but one lone figure with designs upon the manor of her own.

They always tell you that crime doesn’t pay, but Kaylee had a completely different experience. In fact, she thought to herself as she strolled casually along the street, crime had paid quite well. Crime paid so well that she’d put down an advance on next semester’s tuition at Boston U, finished off her previous debt, and found herself an adorable little apartment of her own. Just thinking about all the money she’d made put a bounce in the girl’s step, nearly causing her to skip happily in her black leather boots.

Tonight would be an ever better score, she knew. The manor had to be loaded, just from the look of the place, and she wasn’t going to let some lame stories keep her away. Still, she had to be careful. That’s why she had been sitting on this plan for weeks, to wait for the right time. Now, the clouds would provide her cover and the chill would keep more people off the streets at night. Those that saw her would only see a college girl walking home from class, her backpack slung over her shoulder. The bulky coat she wore hid most of her features and the dim light did the rest.

The wind shifted and soon the clouds covered that faint slip of a moon. Taking her chance, Kaylee hastened her pace and slipped in to the dark alley alongside her target. There wasn’t much room to maneuver inside, but that was what had made it stand out when she’d been studying the place. Off came her coat, which she tucked away in a stack of cardboard nearby. The girl stretched, feeling the sensation of the black leather catsuit she was wearing pull against her. It had originally been a part of her Black Widow costume a few Halloweens back – which had been quite successful since her hair had the right shade of red to pull it off – and now pulled double duty.

Slinging the backpack across her shoulders, Kaylee propped on foot up on the manor’s wall and then another on the neighboring building. It seemed silly to have a wall so close to another, but she wasn’t about to complain about a failing in the building code. It took only a few more minutes before she was atop the wall. Her lithe body moved around and over the spikes easily before she dropped quietly to the grass below, pausing in the dark to take in her surroundings.

Inside the walls looked like some poor English groundskeeper’s nightmare, as nearly every plant was overgrown, vines hanging down off the walls and every tree, with more than a few dead limbs and broken boughs in need of some pruning. Tall, dark grass sprung up around her feet past her ankles and there was the softest of ‘crunches’ as she landed indicating the remains of what was probably once a smooth stone gravel path around the home. The combination of overgrown shrubs and the lining of the brick walls with dense ivy made it suddenly seem as if she had entered another world, some primeval black forest wilderness from days long before the Chesapeake region was settled. Looking towards the house however, it suddenly seemed more like the daunting ruins of some forgotten castle than merely an old manor-style home in the suburbs. The foundation was slightly lifted from the ground, but no windows led downward to the cellar, and off to her right could be seen a heap of overgrowth which indicated the presence of an entrance downward. A quick inspection would reveal a heavy wrought iron chain and padlock though, a real old fashioned monster, which while stained with rust was still a heavy-weight of home security.

The first story windows started at least six feet off the ground, but there was enough ivy clinging to the walls that she might be able to get some hand and foot holds to make it up to one. The alternative was checking around the back or walking right up the front porch to the door, but then, there were no signs of any electronic security system (another feature endearing this particular mark to her moonlit burglary career), and only the windows facing the street had grating (ornate, wrought iron bars really, matching the gate out front and the spikes along the walls). Inside she could just barely make out rich walnut paneling along the walls and ceiling, and the hint of a chandelier in what might be a front dining room, all of which boded well for her potential breaking and entering.

The burglar took it all in, kneeling in the tall grass to keep her silhouette to a minimum. It was a bit of a surprise to find the grounds in such a haphazard condition – she’d expected a place like this to have groundskeepers at the least. From what she could see of the inside, the owner still kept themselves well furnished. Perhaps that would mean an extended stay out of town, which would lower the risk for her even more. However, there was something intimidating about the place, now that she was so close. It was hard to put a finger on it and Kaylee decided that she was probably overreacting. The night was just gloomy, the grounds a bit creepy. Nothing for her to worry about.

Slow steps brought the redhead up to the side of the house, below one of those high windows. The ivy looked well positioned and she wasn’t very heavy. An experimental tug convinced her that they should be able to hold her weight. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a small screwdriver and stuck it between her teeth before pulling herself up onto the wall. The climb wasn’t easy and the grip was slicker than she’d have liked, but before long she was alongside the window. A quick tug proved that fate was really on her side, tonight. The window wasn’t even locked! Kaylee’s happy laugh (never a giggle, mind you, despite what others might say) almost made her drop her screwdriver as she gently opened the window and slid over the sill into the room beyond.

Once inside, Kaylee found herself in what was once likely a dining room, but now had a fine layer of dust about it and looked largely disused. It was at the front of the house, and to her left was a small drawing room which could be seen dimly through the paned wood & glass double doors which opened out from the dining room. Moonlight poured in through the front windows of the house but even just one room over it was very, very dark. Not so dark however that she couldn’t make out a number of dimly lit objects on the heavy and richly carved table in front of her, likely candlesticks, and in the cabinets against the wall which matched the dark paneling of the walls and ceiling. There was a fine floor rug beneath her feet, deadening her footfalls, but beneath it was dark wood flooring which looked all too likely to creek if she wasn’t careful. Past the table was a hall, dimly lit, not by moonlight, but apparently by a scattering of faintly flickering candles of all things.

A glance upwards revealed the chandelier, which looked to be very ornate indeed, and equipped with electric lights, but the old fashioned kind, themselves made to resemble candles. The more she saw, the more the house seemed an anachronism, but what that boded for what she might be able to steal was yet to be determined. Feeling around in the dark should wouldn’t be able to confirm much of course, but it wasn’t as though she could just flip on the light switch if she wanted to remain inconspicuous. The hall looked as though it led both further into the interior of the house, and she could just make out the foot of a wide staircase leading upwards on the far side of the hall, and across from the dining room, there was an even more shadowed and open room with little to indicate the presence of furniture or the like.

The candles were not a good sign. Candles meant someone was likely home and Kaylee didn’t like to increase the chances of being caught. However, the place was gigantic and the state of the grounds combined with the dust on the furniture probably meant that whoever lived here lived alone. If she was careful – and a little lucky – she should be able to avoid them until she got something of value. Jewelry would be best, but that wasn’t likely something she would find in the dining room. The screwdriver went back into her bag and was soon replaced by a small flashlight. It wasn’t needed quite yet, as those candles provided enough to go by, but it was best to be prepared.

Moving slowly along the rug, Kaylee slipped toward the hall and peaked out into the dimly lit hall. The stairs upward seemed the most profitable. In her experience, most people kept those sort of valuables near the bedrooms and it would be best to venture those were above. The wind had started to pick up outside, lending a menacing ambiance to the place as it whistled through the window the cat burglar had left open behind her. The sound seemed to spur her forward, pushing her further into the hall. Each step was careful, her feet making remarkably little noise despite her footwear, and the girl moved with the grace of a gymnast.

Each room made Kaylee pause, gently push open the door, and peak inside with a quick once-over from her flashlight. If nothing sparkled, it wasn’t worth the time to consider. Her backpack was only so large; she was forced to be economical on what she took. It wasn’t like she could take a painting with her and even if she could, Kaylee had no idea who to fence it to. Every step brought her closer to the staircase and the upper reaches of the manor.