Chapter 28
From the Word Jump
The press was calling him "The Jumpster."
Awful, awful name. He would have preferred "Springheel Jack". That had style, it had panache, it had folklore appeal. "The Jumpster" was just lazy, plus, it rhymed with "dumpster". No class at all.
Frankly, if it was up to him, he'd be committing all these thefts in tailored silk finery, as the gentleman thief he'd always dreamed of being, but that was simply impractical considering all the jumping and running around he did. That, and, while he had the aspirations of a gentleman, he lacked the budget of one. What money he'd had had gone toward the purchase of the enchanted boots he currently wore on his feet.
Jack (that was indeed his first name, so it all worked out quite well), first heard of the mysterious traveling emporium in an online chatroom; a user named GreybeardTheWizard had claimed that he'd purchased a magic staff that had turned out to possess actual power to warp reality to his whims. The staff, so he said, had been destroyed and its remains confiscated by Joule (or, as he called her "that purple demon slut"), leaving the guy powerless and frankly, very whiny about the situation. That's what you get for not thinking, Jack had thought at the time. If he'd had the staff, oh, the things he could have done. For one, he'd have gone for a real score instead of just using his power to lord it over some nerds. He would steal until he was so rich that he didn't have to steal anymore, and then he would only go after the rarest, most valuable finds, just for the fun of it, as a true gentleman thief would do.
At that point, Jack had made it his business to track down the mysterious emporium. This would prove to be quite difficult, since, according to the information he gleaned, it could never be found in the same place twice; in fact, everyone who described it claimed to have stumbled upon it completely by accident.
In fact, that's how Jack had finally discovered it, just as he was beginning to doubt it had ever truly existed.
He'd decided to grab something from Gino's Souvlaki, only to discover that the Greek eatery had been replaced, seemingly overnight, with the fabled shop. Upon returning the next day, Gino was back with absolutely no explanation, seemingly unaware that he had left in the first place. That should have thrown up a ton of alarms, but by then, Jack's purchase was already paying off, so he really didn't see any reason to quibble.
Anyway: the store seemed much larger on the inside than its outward appearance would have one believe. All sorts of relics were on display. Jack examined each in turn.
A big ugly gold glove with multicolored jewels on the knuckles? Nah, that'd never fit him. A small gold ring with weird runes engraved on the inside? He wasn't much of a jewelry person. An earthenware goblet with Hebrew writing on it? Looked old. Probably dirty. So far, this place was proving disappointing.
Wait… here was something… a pair of crimson boots with gold trim. Those would be perfect…
"Ahh, I see something has caught your eye." He was behind Jack before it even registered that someone else had been in the room… or, had there been? He didn't remember seeing anyone when he'd entered. He whirled to face the man behind him. He was tall, slim, and dressed in an impeccably-tailored red suit, with a black shirt and white tie. He had red hair that was slicked back and a long pointy goatee, and his head was topped off by, naturally, a top hat.
"Are you the devil?" he asked.
"What?" the mystery man responded. "No, that's absurd. What would make you think that?"
"Well, you know. Store from out of nowhere full of weird stuff, guy with red suit, pointy beard, and creepy voice…"
"My, what an imagination you have."
"Well, I'm just saying, you really, really look the part."
"No, no, I'm afraid I'm no one of that much import. I am simply a man who likes to make dreams come true."
"…and, you're NOT the devil."
"No!"
"Then what do I call you?"
"Just call me 'The Proprietor'. That will do."
"…see, that just the kind of thing the devil would call himself if he was running a mysterious shop full of oddities…"
"I'M NOT THE DEVIL!" the Proprietor snapped, exasperated.
"…hey, I'm not judging, I'm just not sure I wanna pay for a pair of fancy boots with my immortal soul is all."
"That's not what's happening here!"
"Cool, just making sure. So, how much for the boots? Don't really have much on me."
"Well, I'm certain we can come to some sort of arrangement. How much do you have?"
Jack checked his wallet. "I guess I can spare about $50.00…"
The Proprietor snatched up the bill. "Well, that's good enough for a downpayment. We can work out the rest on installment."
"Downpayment? How expensive are these boots?"
"Oh, you'll find these are no ordinary boots. Let's just say… they'll put a spring in your step."
Jack took the boots. "Okay, um… so, how are we going to work out the payment schedule…"
"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll find you when the time is right."
That was a lot more ominous than Jack had been expecting. "But you're not the devil…"
"Just go!" the Proprietor insisted, practically shoving him out the door, slamming it behind him.
Jack stood there with the boots, staring at them, not sure why he'd just blown his last fifty bucks (plus "installments") on them. Sure, they were fancy, bright red with gold embroidering, but they really didn't go with anything he had. Would they even fit him? He'd never even had the chance to try them on. He'd bought a pair of boots that he wasn't even sure he would be able to use. Was there something in the air in that store? He'd heard of storeowners pumping in scents that would make people more likely to spend money. Had he been a victim of such manipulation?
Well… he'd spent the money, so he might as well see if the boots actually fit. He kicked off his worn-out Beeboks (the real thing was well out of his price range) and slipped the boots on. Surprisingly, they fit perfectly. More than perfectly, actually. It felt like they had actually been custom-made to fit his slightly-irregular feet.
He took some experimental steps in the boots, surprised at how light on his feet he felt, In fact, it felt as if he weighed nothing at all. How was this possible? He'd just purchased them, and yet it felt like he'd been wearing them all his life. He started to walk home, slowly, but the boots felt so light and comfortable that he quickly broke into a jog, then a run, then a faster run. And before he even realized it, he found himself clear on the other side of Hillwood.
He checked his watch. Somehow…. He had run clear across the entire city in mere minutes.
"Spring in my step, huh," he muttered to himself. And took an experimental jump. Moments later, he was on the roof of a building five blocks away.
Oh, yes… these were definitely worth fifty bucks. Plus installments.
His latest caper had been a watch store on Lane St. After picking out the one that suited him best, he would sell the rest on the Dark Web. Then, maybe a couple more jobs, and he'd move on, perhaps to Tacoma or Portland. Best not to stay in one place until the heat built up, that was a good way to get caught. At least that's how it seemed to work for all the Gentleman Thieves he'd read about.
The thing about the boots, though, was, as light on your feet as they made you, they still didn't compensate for Jack's lack of athletic conditioning. He still needed to rest every other jump. His last had landed him on the roof of a small apartment building. It was unlikely the coppers would be able to catch up with him up here for a while, so he decided to take advantage of his lead to take a rest.
Unfortunately, he'd forgotten Hillwood's other more freelance breed of law enforcement, one that could follow him far more easily. He was quickly reminded, though, when he heard the flutter of leathery wings, and the sound of a newcomer setting foot on the roof behind him. He turned to face a tall, blonde-haired, pink-skinned female sauntering forward, her wings folding around her shoulders as she regarded him. "So," she quipped, "this doesn't seem to be your everyday moonlight stroll. What's in the sack? Is it swag? I bet it's swag."
Well, she was a girl with horns, fangs, and multiple extra limbs, but she was still a girl. And as a gentleman thief, it was his sworn duty to turn on the charm. "Ah, greetings, my fair lady." he said. "Temper, I presume? I had heard there were some rather powerful young women patrolling this city, but I had no idea they would be quite this lovely."
The mutant girl cocked her head skeptically. "Are you really trying this?" she asked.
"Oh, I assure you, this is no act. I am merely spellbound by your unfathomable charm. Perhaps Temper s the wrong name for one so beguiling as you. May I suggest… Temptress?"
Temper facepalmed. "You really are. You are actually trying to pull the 'seduce the heroine with flattery' bit. Sad… So… what name am I gonna give the fuzz when I hand you over."
This was not gong well, but perhaps he could still salvage this. "Ah, but of course." He bowed gracefully. "Allow me to introduce myself. They call me Springheel J-"
"Oh, hey, wait," the heroine interrupted. "I'm just getting an update on you over my suit's infolink. Wow… you've been busy, haven't you… jewelry store last night, overpriced nerd collectibles today. Oh and there's a nae here." She paused for a moment. "They call you… *snicker* The Jumpster?"
"That was not the name I chose," he replied.
"Oh, no, no, of course not, I mean, who would choose… the Jumpster." She took a deep breath, and then burst out laughing. See, this was what he was afraid of.
"Are you quite done?" he asked after nearly a full minute.
"*gasp* Give me a *gasp* minute… okay… I'm done. *beat* Nope. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"I don't need this," Jack muttered, He had not had much of a chance to rest, but perhaps he could at least jump far enough to shake her. He gathered what strength he had and leapt as far into the night as he could.
-HELGA-
Man, I needed a good, solid laugh like that. Really clears out the ol' chakras. Nothin' like having a total loser to goof on, is there? Unfortunately, it also gave said loser a chance to escape. Now, I was stuck trying to figure out exactly where he would come down, and that would be anyone's –
…wait, what am I doing?
"Bridgi, can you calculate the perp's landing point from the angle and velocity of his jump?"
"I can." the AI replied evenly.
*groan* Ugh, really? Why did Bridget have to give her AI such a snotty personality? "Would you? Please?" I restated.
"Working," it said. My visor's HUD threw up an overlay of a map of the immediate neighborhood with the Jumpster's (try not to laugh again) landing point marked.
"Thanks." I don't know why I thanked her. Maybe I figured being polite for a change would make her less difficult in the future? Who knows. Too much of this and I might start treating her like she's a real person. Hell, I'm already calling her "her".
It was a quick enough flight to intercept the guy. His jump was high, but the arc was pretty tight and he landed only a few blocks over in the alley next to the Kitka theater. I was only about thirty seconds behind him, and it looked like he was still pretty winded.
"Hi again," I said. "We could keep doing this, or you could give up. The sooner you do, the less aggravated I get. Believe me, you would prefer me less aggravated." I advanced on him.
"S-stay back," he warned, crouched in what I guess he thought was a fighting stance.
"Really, you're just making this harder on yourself. Now, if you come quietly, I don't even have to hit y-"
Before I could finish my sentence, the so-called Jumpster (heh) lashed out with his left foot. I reflexively tried to catch it with my lower hands, but somehow, the boots enchantment made his foot move faster than even my hands could, and the boot caught me squarely in the solar plexus. The impact felt like a cannonball had hit, completely knocking the wind out of me. While I staggered back, the Jumpster followed up, with far more sklll than I expected from him, with a jumping right kick that propelled me clean across the street and through the window of the fried chicken place on the opposite side, surprising several insomniac diners. I tried to say something witty and reassuring but "…owwww…" was all I could manage. I lay there for several minutes trying to pull myself together. Whatever mojo was in those boots had been a lot more than I had bargained for. I was so dazed that I hadn't even registered that the patrons were probably filming me on their phones all the while. I did not remain ignorant for long, since I was soon shocked out of my daze by a voice over my suit's comm.
"Temper?" Phoebe's voice came in over my earpiece. "Are you all right?"
"Jus' peachy, Pheebs," I replied woozily. I probably shouldn't have used her real name, but that kick took a surprising lot out of me. "Why would you think otherwise?"
"Well, there is the fact that a video of you crashing through the window of Boop's Chicken and Biscuits just went viral."
"*sigh* Of course it did." I managed to pull myself up off the floor. "It's nothing to worry about. I just got taken by surprise is all. It won't happen again."
"Are you sure you don't want some backup?" she asked. "I can be over there in-"
"It's fine," I said. "It's just one guy. Now that I know what I'm dealing with, I won't make the same mistakes twice."
"Okay, if you say so… just remember, there's no shame in calling for backup if you need it."
"I won't need it."
"You say that now, but remember Blazefrost?"
"Ugh, don't remind me." Blazefrost was a villain I fought two and a half years ago who claimed he got superpowers from crystal meth. I figured he was just a delusional methhead with a spandex fetish, but it turned out meth actually did make him incredibly strong, fast, and gave him some kind of burning aura. He almost handed me an embarrassing smackdown before Phoebe arrived to back me up. "That was different, though. I'm pretty sure I've seen everything this guy has to offer, so the odds of him getting the drop on me are pretty much zero."
"All right. I'm not convinced, but I'll back off for now."
"Thanks." The last thing I needed right now was someone else getting in my way. This was personal now.
A.N.: Another short chapter, sorry. I've been having wrist problems lately so I took a short break, and chapters may be a bit less frequent in the coming weeks.
Helga's reaction to the Jumpster's name is basically a word-for-word copy of Spider-Man's reaction to Paste-Pot Pete, and the Jumpster name itself is just a setup for a pun next chapter. Also, no, he isn't anyone we already know. As for Blazefrost, he's a tribute to DC's greatest supervillain ever, the legendary SNOWFLAME! Look him up, he's a hoot.
Jose: More of the Jumpster (or Springheel Jack as he would prefer to be called here), as well as a follow-up to the LARP chapter, showing where Todd got the magic staff.
JayDogg: Thanks for the reviews, I don't care how late they are! Hope you're still enjoying the show.
VeganMama: Yep, Helga's maturing, though she still has her reckless moments (the way she handled Ludwig will likely have repercussions).
Next: De-Feet. (Sorry.)