|Nickolas Fielding (lostlittleboy) wrote in toujoursliberer,|
@ 2008-06-26 13:38:00
|Entry tags:||evander_rycroft, nell_abbot, plot, robin, underage|
Subject: Harsh Reality
Who: Evander Rycroft
Where: Bridge Theatre
Warnings: violence but not bad
Open to: Harry's boys
As he stepped onto solid ground again, Evander looked around. It was much different from Cordoba, from the hustle and bustle to the sights and smell. Yes London was definitely different. He picked up his trunk by its handle and kept his satchel close to him, concealed beneath the larger tunic he wore as he started walking away from the waterfront and headed north.
He watched the other people around him, feeling them stare at him. It wasn't too surprising. He was dressed very differently and he wondered if some of them were trying to figure out where he'd come from and what he was doing there. He smiled and said hello or good day to most and couldn't help but be a bit awe-struck as he walked through downtown London.
It reminded him of the market with everyone moving every which way and doing all manners of business even as the early evening set in. Evander stopped at the bakery, unable to resist the smell of the fresh rolls. Luckily he had some expendable money and eager snacked on the warm bread, continuing on his way.
"Well well, what have we here."
The voice came from behind him and he turned to see two boys, not much older than him it seemed, glaring at him. He tried not to panic and turned away heading down a side street which turned out to be an alley (beside the Bridge Theatre but he didn't know that). He looked at them again. "What do you want?" he asked, his accent a bit English, plus Irish brogue and the lit on some words of Spanish as well.
"Don't mind us, we're just the welcoming committee," the older ones said, both still advancing on Evander. "And it looks like you're in a good need of welcoming too."
Gripping the handle of his trunk more, Evander shook his head. "Thank you but no, I'm fine, and must be going."
But they were quick. The first punch stunned him but only for a moment. Evander dropped the last of the roll to the ground as his hand went to his face. He swung the trunk out at them, catching the younger in the side. The first one grabbed at him, hitting him again, so hard it made Evander's eyes water. He wasn't defenseless and from the pocket of his satchel, he pulled a dagger and struck at the two boys. He dropped his trunk against the wall behind him and caught one on the arm while the other kept coming. Evander's face hurt and he knew he was likely bruised and definitely bleeding.
Suddenly there was a whistle and a policeman coming down the street. Evander hid the dagger swiftly, backing up again to his trunk and grabbing it as he took off. He didn't need the authorities or dealing with questions they'd have, not yet.
He found a door in the back of the building and tried it. With some doing, it came open and he pulled it shut quickly. It was kind of dark. He couldn't tell if it was a warehouse or not. Maybe it was abandoned, and he could just rest, for a little bit. He set his trunk down under the stairs by a window and barely sat down on it before he passed out.