+ it? A real grimace crosses his face at that thought. Crutchie sighs, shaking his head.
“I… I can’t, Miss. I’m sorry. Somebody might get the wrong idea that I stole it. You… really don’t have any money on you?”
“Oh! Um…”
It isn’t the first time Crutchie’s been offered something like this, but the second time being pure gold like this? Or at least something like it? He’s shocked.
“You… really just wanna give me that?”
He could sell it, he thinks immediately. But what if the pawn shop thinks he stole +
+ pictures in the papers of course, but real life? It’s been a while. Crutchie shakes it from his head and focuses on the sweet treat Elmer bought him.
Crutchie quickly finds Elmer and Race, but they’ve already gotten their food so they don’t want to leave. He reluctantly joins them back in line, trying to convince himself what he’s feeling is silly and there’s no need to worry. Plus, that blood caught him off guard. He’s used to seeing it in +
“no no no PLEASE NO —“
Crutchie yells as he’s hit by a vengeful cop eager to rid the street of kids who ‘don’t belong’ or, even worse — a nightmare.
“Uhhh, course they do, otherwise I’d be outta job,” the boy laughs.
“Thanks, mistah. You new in town or somethin’?”
+ dodging patrons and other children alike. A couple newspapers slip from his bag, and he doesn’t stop to grab them again in his haste.
“Yeah,” Crutchie says, glancing around at all the high society folks in return. It gives him a convenient out as he squints and lies, pointing far off.
“Oh — sorry mistah, I see ‘em right there! I gotta go, but — I’ll see ya in the show! Thanks again!”
He attempts to limp away as fast as he can, +
“Ummmm no, pretty sure I mean England,” Crutchie laughs. “You sure you never heard of it?”
Crutchie smiles back brightly, a little more than mischievous tonight.
Very oblivious to the danger he might be in, he starts to laugh.
“You should see the look on your face, mistah!”
Crutchie took a deep breath and smiled.
“Thanks! So… didja wanna buy a paper or not?”
He thrusts out a newspaper at the other, all smiles.
+ sleep as well. He plasters on a smile all the same, trying to look the part of chipper orphan boy. It wasn’t that hard, considering that’s who he was.
“But if you gotta chaperone or someone wid ya, maybe we could ask them!”
He gestures off down the path abstractly, just hoping to get paid.
“Oh,” Crutchie says, slightly disappointed as the woman says she doesn’t have the money to pay him. He tries taking the paper back, clearing his throat.
“Um. Sorry, Miss. You gotta pay for it if you’se gonna read it. Thanks.”
Not only for his meal later tonight, but for a place to stay and +
“Great! So then the Governor showed up in a BIIIIIG fancy carriage and Jack JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW. This was like three stories high mind you! And he landed and did a somersault and perfectly fit on the back of Governor Roosevelt’s carriage. And that’s how my brother escaped jail.”
“…Hares?” Crutchie frowns.
“Ohhh, you’re from England, ain’t’cha?”
@sigynsetfree.bsky.social
Crutchie knocks timidly on the door to the bar in the early hours of the morning.
“Miss Sigyn?”
“I — I guess??” Crutchie laughs, a little embarrassed at his gasp.
“He, uh, thinks it’s weird! And bad! And he’d rather just go, I dunno, skip rocks at the pond or play an instrument than deal with all this phooey love stuff.”
“What are jackalopes?” Crutchie asks uncertainly, unused to the unfamiliar word to him. “Ain’t those just… in museums? Are you an explorer?!”
“N-no, I uh —“
Crutchie blushes at being called ‘sir’. She must not have noticed how young he is.
He thrusts out a newspaper the next moment desperately.
“Wouldyouliketobuyanewspapermiss?”
“Pffft, you’re crazy,” the boy chuckles. “Those ain’t people. Those are rabbits.”
Crutchie blushes, laughing.
“No! He thinks love is for fools.”
He gasps.
“And that’s why he looks down on the main characters!”
“R - right….” Crutchie says, uncertain and uncomfortable. He attempts a smile, trying to hide how he’s stepping away. Some of the other patrons are giving him looks, and he doesn’t want unwanted attention.
“W-well my friends is gettin’ food. I think I’m gonna uh. Go join ‘em. Thanks, mistah.”
Sleepy. Slooooowwwly falling asleep in your muse’s arms
“Uh….”
Crutchie giggles. He can’t help it.
“Okay, okay. My name is…. Mr. Brig A. Doon and I like to take long walks on the beach.”
His laughter explodes out of him.
“Uhhhh…. I dunno. Ensemble?” He jokes naturally.
“I… hadn’t really given it that much thought,” Crutchie blushes peach. “I’m just hopin’ they cast me at all.”
“M-Miss? Are you… okay?”
He’d originally approached her to try and sell one of his newspapers before he saw the sword. Crutchie stopped short like a deer in headlights at the sight, reduced to stammering.
+ the cop laughs. “No, this kid was going to sell it most likely! Ungrateful boy —“
Crutchie curls up into a ball, struggling not to cry at the pain. He wishes Jack were here. He wishes anybody else were here to help him.
“A hefty sum,” the cop sneered, kicking Crutchie in legs cruelly. The boy whimpers, looking away from the mysterious person who may or may not have come to help him.
“Five dollars worth, sir. Nearly enough to feed my own family for a week! No way this kid was stealing just cuz he was hungry.”
+
“Oookayyy….” Crutchie giggles, nervous, but does what he says.
“I’m pretendin’. What next?”
“Kid was caught with stolen food,” the cop says roughly. “It’s my job ta bring miscreants like this one to the Refuge.”
“NO!” Crutchie yelps, taut with fear. “No no, please. I — I won’t do it again. Sir, you gotta believe me!”
