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Writing Prompt #11: Childhood crimes

Crystal Dragon

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Kids will be kids, but everyone has a different type of upbringing and different experiences that sort of stick to them like glue. 

What kind of crimes did your character commit as a child?


Crys' liked to sneak snacks, stealing them from her siblings, or the clan tables during festivals. It wasn't until she was caught in the act and reprimanded for it, that she stopped but she was quite young at the time it happened, probably around 3 to 5 years of age at that time. 

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Easy one - Pri. She's a rapidly grown clone, so *maybe* two years old now anyway, so everything would count - property destruction, arson, murder, kidnapping... depending, of course, on who you ask, as the *other* side of that involves "self defense" and "freeing other clones" and "escaping."


Ish: Theft. Had to steal food, fresh clothing and the like.


Cat, I picture as being very straight, actually. Daughter of a cop, friends were cops kids or knew them, you could either just try not getting in trouble or find new and creative ways to do so. Granted, I figure once she hit her teens she got *very* good at sneaking out, so...


Rez snuck out a time or two to hang around with friends, but most of the prime get-into-trouble years were taken up with the whole "debilitating pain" thing, so...

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Primarily on Everlasting. Squid afficionado. Former creator of Copypastas. General smartalec.


I tried to combine Circle and DE, but all I got were garden variety evil mages.

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Sabrehawk committed her first murder when she was a high school student. (This may not count as 'childhood'.) At that time she had been considering a career as a supervillain for a while but she knew that to be a supervillain she would have to kill. She wasn't sure if she could do it. Or handle the aftermath. So one day she took a .22 rifle, her three hundred dollar used car and a long trip. It turns out it wasn't something that bothered her at all. 


Just another unsolved crime for everyone else but for Sabrehawk it was a pivotal moment.

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It had been a long day for Todd Hildebrand- the open vacancies in the Records had hit new highs and he’d been struggling to juggle both the extra workload and interviewing new candidates.   HR had promised him they’d do a better job filtering out the bad ones, but here he was with this latest “candidate.”


“So, ms… Tabitha… Lachann.  Did I pronounce that correctly?”


“Yes” the catgirl quickly, eagerly responded.  *Felinoid* Todd corrected himself internally, *Felinoid is more PC, and probably more accurate here.  The term catgirl covered a large spectrum, including people wearing cat accessories like ears and tail, while here before him was someone far more biologically feline- with fur, ears, eyes, whiskers, the works.   And tiny by human standards- probagbly 4 feet although Todd’s proximity to City Hall guaranteed that he’d encountered folk much smaller ... and much much larger for that matter.


“Do you prefer a nickname-  Tabitha… Tabby?”


“Tabitha, Please.”  Her ears perked, 


“Ok, so, um… Tabitha- I have to say you had some very fine referrals- Azuria and Montague Castanella both spoke highly of your proficiency, and you really impressed the first round of interviewers.  I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet with you then, but the demands of the position, and all.”


“Oh, I understand completely, sir.” She said, nodding her head and smiling in a way intended to offer support but also something else- desperation? Hope?


Anyway, I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to be a little unconventional here and just address some of the red flags here, right off the bat.  I haven’t had much spare time to dig into them myself, so I was hoping you could help fill in the blanks.”


“Red flags?” she asked, practically wilting in the seat.

“Particularly, it seems you spent the past four years at St. Ives, a boarding school for youth adjudicated delinquent…  could you elaborate.”


She squirmed in the seat, “Well, y’know… it was… mostly moving violations.”


The evasiveness was palatable.  “You don’t get 4 years in placement for moving violations.”


She nervously shuffled, “Well, it depends on what those movements were and what was  violated, right?” and almost immediate regretted the phrasing. “I mean… that came out wrong.  From a catgirl that kinda implies a different type of movement… not what I was suggesting at all. Honest.  It’s nothing like that. Totally.”


He ignored her, “Fortunately we can just take a look.”


“I thought juvie records were sealed” she blurted out, suddenly appearing far more nervous.


He let his eyes lead her to the department sign “records” and waited a moment for it to register before looking to his computer screen, “Well, you certainly weren’t lying were you?  Driving underaged. Driving without a license, driving an unregistered vehicle on the public accessway.  Speeding 40mph over the limit in a 55 zone.”


“it was kinda an emergency”


He continued, “...Speeding 60mph over the limit in a 25 mph zone.  23 counts of property destruction by vehicle…  


“Mailboxes, mostly.  I hadn’t really driven much before, and have you ever driven a ‘72 duster.  The dash is way too goddamn high.  I shoulda maybe taken time to adjust the seat better.”


“...Vehicular assault on another vehicle.  Attempted vehicular assault on a pedestrian”

“I don’t really recall those, but I’ll take their word for it- remember, I really couldn’t see above the dash very well.”


“... wrong way down a one-way street. 14 counts of unsafe lane change.  33 counts of failure to obey traffic signals.  Failing to cede to law enforcement.”

“...I swear, if they ever let me drive again, I’ll get better.”


“...It just keeps going.  It’s like they went through the entire vehicle code and just checked everything”


“Yeah, well, it was a scary moment- I was trying to find help with … well, a demonic possession- mine, to be honest.  You kinda take desperate measures.”


“...Operating under the influence.   Underage drinking, too.  That’s a rather serious one.”


“Yeah, I know, and I totally fess up to that.   Part of that whole demonic-possession ritual thing and couldn’t wait till I sobered up.  Totally will never happen again.

“Operating an unsafe vehicle on the highway. Violating emissions standards…”


“Yep.  Dad was restoring the duster and it wasn’t street legal yet.  No mirrors.  No muffler.  No exhaust at all, really.   The fumes just flowed straight into the car cabin from the holes in the floorboard.  Probably had a bigger effect on my sobriety than the booze to be honest.”

“Ok, here we go with some non-vehicular offenses.  Destruction of art valued at over $100k? Desecration of a house of worship..”


“Kinda vehicular, and kinda the same thing, though desecration seems a bit strong.   The church had these massive ornate ancient bronze-and oak doors and they were locked and I was really desperate to get in, so I kinda… sorta… thought if I nudged thema little with the car I could get through.  Kinda mixed up the gas and brake pedal…”


“Use of lethal force on a state official”


“Oh, he didn’t die- and it wasn't intentional.  Officer Bondell found me after I passed out and changed.  I… kinda grabbed his arm.”  She fiddled with her hand and snapped off a plastic cap that looked like the end knuckle of her finger, revealing an inch long cat claw, “severed a bunch of tendons and he almost bled out, but was totally an accident.”


“This is the same Officer Bondell that’s in your references?”


“Yeah, he’s a sweet guy.  He’s retired now- on disability- and we try to keep in touch.”


“Ok, well that seems to be all of it.  It certainly explains the 4 years…  Travis was the judge, too? That alone explains the 4 years. He’s always been a hardliner."


“So, I guess that’s it, huh?  No chance I can work in the records room?”


“What? No.  I mean, no, this doesn’t blow your chances.  Maybe somewhere else, but this is Paragon City.  We know all about how a superpower’s manifestation can lead to unintended disaster.   Lewis in public affairs nearly committed fratricide the first time his lycanthropy manifested- he’ll probably share the story with you before your first week is done.


“I’ll just need info on your social media accounts for the internet background checks.”


“Internet background check?”


“Yes- don’t worry, it’s nothing too big-brothery,  we just do a check on all recruits to be sure there’s nothing too controversial or unsavory -  Although some of us work far from the spotlight, we’re all still expected to represent the city in the best light.  We've lost a few candidates to some rather raunchy nightclub posts, media posts supporting arachnos- an OnlyFans account, that kind of thing."


Tabitha squirmed a little in the chair, opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, shifted again, made some kid of gesture, then tried again, “I… I don’t really post online myself.  I try to keep it low-key.”


“Oh, ok, that’ll make this easy then.”  He gestured her to the door. “ If you don’t mind, I’ll see you out and then get the search started.” 


About halfway to the door, she stopped him, “ when you say search…”


“I just google your name and any aliases, really.  If you don’t have a social media presence, I probably won’t find anything.”


“Are there filters- I mean, this is a government place, I’m sure you guys limit what employees can or can’t access on the web.  Not that it matters or anything here. Just… just wondering.”


“Here in records we get to work unfiltered- otherwise it wouldn’t even be possible to open some profiles, like Silver Mantis or Bobcat.  Why? Is there a problem?”


“No… no.  I can’t say there’s a problem.  Can’t say that I’ve ever… y’know… googled myself before, so… no.   Just… y’know, there are a lot of catgirls out there, and I’m sure a name like Tabby isn’t that uncommon and… well y’know.”


He smiled reassuringly, “I assure you, in the rare chance we find anything negative, we have a careful interdepartmental review to rule out incorrect matches- probably close to twenty people .   You’ll be fine.”


She didn’t seem reassured as he walked her to the door.


Todd took a detour to the coffeemaker before heading back to his desk.   She seemed like a nice girl.  Quiet.  Timid.  She probably had such a scare with her brush with the law that she’s keeping a low profile now.  He liked that.  Records isn’t a place for excitement or distraction.   He even berated himself for his first impression when he saw her, reminding himself how one has to constantly be vigilant for their own prejudices.  She’s a library sciences major, after all, why'd he ever expect anything unseemly.


Sitting back down at his desk, he thought, “this might take 5 minutes... at most…”  

Edited by chase
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All of my Outcasts are looking at eachother awkwardly right now. 


When Lykossia was nine and still alive back in the civilization of Oranbega, he learned an explosive spell from his magic tutor. He was a brat as a child so the very first thing he did was make his older brother's dinner explode in his face that night. He was forbidden from lessons from the next week, among other punishments. 


Chrono-Bot grew up in the substrate she was generated in and was fully mature (in the year 3???) before being placed in her electropunk body, but the body isn't that old so I'm going to say that the time she wandered into the Rogue Isles and the [redacted] that happened next count as childhood crimes.


Great research for her though!


B43T-D0WN stole a piercing gun when she was 17 and now she's a Freakshow so I think we can trace a direct crime line here.

Edited by Chrono-Bot
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I am @Chrono-Bot! SGs: Girls Gone Rogue Isles, The Helping Hands, The Orange Bagels, Paragon's Perfectly Normal Heroes. Server: Everlasting! See my characters, now with photos, below!




I'm not NOT here to make friends.

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3 hours ago, chase said:

Records isn’t a place for excitement or distraction.   He even berated himself for his first impression when he saw her, reminding himself how one has to constantly be vigilant for their own prejudices.  She’s a library sciences major, after all, why'd he ever expect anything unseemly.


Sitting back down at his desk, he thought, “this might take 5 minutes... at most…”  



As someone who's in library sciences in real life, I can definitely appreciate this bit as that is one big reason people go into it: quiet, not getting into trouble easy, etc. Not to mention, the irony and the like that I could practically hear off it. Yeah, he's gonna find a lot of things and she did try to warn him.


But as to my characters... Well, If you count filching twenties from your mom's purse so you could buy that new game or action figure or a few bucks' worth of pop with your friends, Raphael Firestar did that a little. Parents revealed they were wise to him doing it and punished him after explaining that so long as he asked or explained what he planned to do with it, they were likely to say yes.


Raphael Firebane, though, wouldn't exactly say he committed crimes against people, more that after he started training and doing his research on the Resistance and other groups, he "got creative" and did a couple B&Es, some minor assault, all in disguise before he fully got his act together. Being driven by a burning hate and need to get even didn't help.


Carmilla didn't exactly do anything strictly against any laws or technicalities, far as the record says. Being a Crey had its advantages to help cover up her having taken a few things without paying or having something in her car that she didn't strictly know was there. Not that she really acted out as family images and all. She was too busy struggling to deal with her family forcing their expectations on her and her budding sexuality to really engage in more than one or two indiscretions.


Ra-Akhnaten didn't get into much more than a few rougher than they ought to have been altercations with boys his age. Which quickly came to a stop because he was a priest's son and going into the priesthood himself, and he'd been caught playing with "street rat" type kids and the soldiers' sons instead of sticking to his studies. And the fights came about because he took exception to the way they were talking about his mother. He may have grown up to be an evil spirit that commits crimes but nobody insults his mother without paying for it. Not even his father...

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1 hour ago, huang3721 said:

Thankfully, aside from messing with his brother, Lukas had done no such thing.


For a context: Lukas' mother always had a feather duster ready within her reach. (She had plenty of them). Committing a crime would be akin to signing his death warrant.

(OOC meme impulse activated)





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((A brief story taking place a few years ago and involving Lady Cobra’s now ex-husband and one of his childhood originated crimes.))

William Chang had always enjoyed dabbling in poisons and sedatives.

One of his earliest and most cherished childhood memories was of his nanny collecting mushrooms in the forest and fatally mistaking a death cap for one of its more edible varieties. He would never forget the fascination of discovering the deadly power hidden in such fragile and unlikely source. It triggered something new and powerful inside him.

At the library, he sought out everything he could find about poisons in all their doses and forms. He gradually learned that they could not just be used to kill, but in the right form and dosage, also to weaken, control, and subdue any target subject of his wrath, envy, affection, or whichever other applicable emotion or impulse of the day.

His first test run had been with Jonathan Bailey, whose sudden illness had ensured that William won the school spelling bee contest.

Then there was lovely Becky Chu at the party. She was so grateful that William was there to help her and take her home when she became sick, but there had been just a bit too much vomiting going on for fun, and that was when his interest spread to also include the many other methods of control and sedation available.

For all these years, he had learnt. Learnt and experimented. Not always satisfied with what could be found in the wild, on the streets, or from the many industrial products available, William had long since decided to supplement options with substances of his own creation, and – if he should say so himself – had become something of a master.

And now he sat with a small flask of his most recent creation. A relatively fast working sedative with just a tiny streak of his own artificial Amanita- and shellfish-based substances mixed in. He estimated the effects would be triggered for real about 20 minutes after ingestion. Fatigue, weariness, dizziness, nausea, confusion, and just a light shortness of breath. Or so he thought – the actual effects remained to be seen.

In any event, it seemed the perfect substance to test on his wife.

She was out again, as usual. It really was quite unfathomable she would treat him like this. Yes, she was wearing her White Cobra costume, and yes she was supposedly out there rescuing people or fighting crime. But what about him? What about dedicating some time to her husband instead? And he had seen how other men looked at her. How was he to know that she didn’t return some of that third party affection in kind?

Headlights coming up the driveway shook him from his thoughts and told him it was time to prepare his wife a cup of her beloved peppermint tea.


She was a creature of habit on mission nights. Always stripping away the mask, wanting to be hugged, and then the inevitable cup of tea before retiring upstairs to shower and change. This night had been no different, and she had gratefully gulped down the steaming tea with peppermint fragrance. And now she was in the shower. William checked his watch, eager to confirm or adjust his theories about effectiveness of his new creation.

A sound of disturbance came from the bathroom as if someone had stumbled against the wall. William smiled and waited at the top of the stairs.

Moments later, Emily emerged, her body wrapped in the custom white bathrobe with the trademark golden Cobra insignia. Her eyes were haunted and judging by her complexion she might have dipped her face in a bucket of chalk-dust.

“W-William…I don’t feel so…”

She staggered towards him, reaching out for support, and William extended his arms to catch her. But the catch became a forceful push, and Emily was sent tumbling down the stairs, ending up on the floor, dazed, gasping, and clutching her shoulder.

“Darling you fell…I tried catching you, but…are you hurt?” William hurried downstairs to his fallen wife’s side using emotive skills picked up over the years to feign genuine empathy and concern.

His wife moaned and looked at him plaintively. He had to concentrate hard to look worried. He wanted so badly to smile at his success. There was no risk she would remember the push. The tea and what he put in it would ensure that she would think it had just been fatigue and illness and that she had fallen down the stairs despite his efforts to save her. Overexertion from all those nights in costume he would suggest to her.

Yes, he had every reason to congratulate himself. The way she was still clutching her shoulder it was surely at least dislocated and judging by the look in her eyes there might well be other injuries too.

It would be days, maybe even weeks, before the White Cobra would be fit for the streets again. Now she would have some time for him and just him - whether she liked it or not.

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