Dapple is able to copy any sound she's heard before. While she can use this to copy speech, she can only repeat the exact words and phrases. She mainly uses this for ease of communication, as she struggles to talk properly otherwise.
Dapple is also able to copy the powers of individuals she is able to see. This is a temporary effect, lasting only for an hour or so after exposure, and is limited to only one individual at a time. The copies are always a lesser version of the original. If the powers require visible physiological changes, they appear as a faint afterimage instead of actually affecting her body.
Less a power, and more a natural talent - Dapple isn't very good at a lot of things, but that leaves plenty of room to learn. She's dedicated, observant, and able to replicate actions fairly quickly, provided she has a good teacher. In the meantime, though, you best hope whatever you're teaching her isn't dangerous, because she will find every single way to do something wrong before she finally manages to do it right.
Again, less a power, this time more just a superficial side effect. Her arms and legs are covered in black skin and feathers up to the elbows and knees, and she has a feathered crest on her head and ears that folds back into her hair. Her fingernails and toenails are sharper and longer than the normal human's as well.
"No. ID. ID. Yes, the letters, but - you know, driver's license, social security card."
The manager rubbed at the bridge of his nose, obviously exasperated. In normal circumstances, he wouldn't have even put up with this. The girl walked in asking for a job, then proceeded to fill in the application with nonsense, scribbles, and words he couldn't even make out. He'd managed to get the information he needed through a painfully obtuse game of twenty questions, but then when the time came to verify identity, she didn't just have the required documents -
She didn't even seem to know what they where.
But times were tough at the Kingpin's Bowling Alley, and tougher still in the little milkshake bar and snack shack stand tucked into the back of the building. Place hadn't been renovated since the 70s, and most of the year he didn't even have the staff to keep it open. Nobody wanted to wait for minimum wage anymore.
"Okay, look," he finally said, pushing back the napkin the girl had scribbled I-D onto in her chicken-scratch handwriting. "Look. 3.15 an hour, plus any tips you make. I can't promise tips will be a factor, business isn't exactly booming, but -"
She had all the makings of an idiot, so probably didn't know he was supposed to make up for that.
"If you learn the skates, I'll give you a dollar raise. Until then, I expect you to keep this place clean and open, 8 AM to 8 PM. If it's slow, help clean the alley floor, restock shoes, polish balls, the works." He moved to push the contract across the table, then paused. "Don't care if you're illegal, retarded, some scientific experiment gone wrong, whatever. Anyone comes in and asks, you're my niece. Got it?"