A/N: Short little bit that didn't really fit into 1.5 or 2.1, so enjoy.
1.6
[B]Outside Brockton Bay
April 8th 2011
03:06 AM EST
[/B]
Outside the Brockton Bay itself is relatively unimpressive. The city itself is bigger than what I'm normally used to, but a stroll though it leaves me unimpressed. The best comparison I can think of is Detroit. Actually, it's not all that bad, but I get the impression that things only look this good because they wanted things to look good for the tourists. A sweep of the city confirms this, with the deterioration getting worse as you get further from the boardwalk.
A bit of hesitation leaves me sweeping through a clothing store at the local mall. I only take one set, and it's from one of the better off stores in the mall so it shouldn't be that much worse off. I may of also taken most of the cash in the register at the store. I'm gone by the time the police arrive, which leaves me with one problem.
How do I get this costume off?
Trial and error in an abandoned building a good distance away from the mall reveals that the entire thing can be removed by ripping the thing in 2, where it then conveniently separates at the waist. I want to keep it on me at all times though, so I elect to remove the gloves(done in the same fashion as the torso and leg pieces) and cover the entire thing with jeans that are just a bit too big, requiring a belt, a long sleeved, brandless green shirt, a grey sweatshirt on top of that(the gloves are shoved in the front pockets, which zip up nicely),and hiking boots to hide the Zoom boots, which is the most distinctly uncomfortable part of the ensemble. With the cowl hidden beneath the sweatshirt, and a stolen newspaper (let's be honest, it's the least harmful thing I've taken tonight) citing the date as April 7th,2011(or is it the 8th now?), I have an idea of where I sit in canon. Right before Taylor gets juice spilled on her, and the day the story starts.
While this means I can't stop the locker, I'm not entirely sure I would have. Stopping Taylor from triggering could mean the end of the world, and since I live here now, I kind of have a vested interest in it not ending. I'll try to stop it if I can, but since the mailbox only needed to be zoomed a bit over 2 years into the future to make it disappear, my hopes aren't high that I'm going to stop the apocalypse by being here.
My next destination is to a seedy motel on the outskirts of town. Luckily, no eyebrows are so much as raised, I'm in a room that's seen better days. I don't even bother changing clothes, setting the alarm to 7 in the morning, plopping down on the bed, and sleep takes me within minutes.