Backdate to beginning of the month - closed to Eponine

[knowntohisfriends]

The Dodger knew most of the good fences in London, and a few of the bad ones an' all. He knew when to try to flog an item himself, when to pass it on, and when someone was clearly trying to sell him something they'd nick previously. It was a handy skill, especially when you wanted to annoy someone at one of the markets. Mostly he didn't care, because why should he, but occasionally he would have a nosy.

Today was one of those days he felt like he might stick his nose in. Depended on what happened, really

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[melancolique]

Eponine has to wait until the sun fades before she can leave her tomb. She waits near the entrance of her tomb, watching for the sky to turn pink dusky. Then she leaves.

She hurries through the streets, her hoodie pulled up over her hair, and long straggles falling in her face. She pushes through crowds commuting home, all the time fighting her hunger and her desire to bite.

Eventually, though, she reaches her destination. It's a gloomy street in Hackney; the street lights have been shot out. Glass litters the pavement. Shop windows are boarded up. There's even a burned out car further down the road. Youths on bikes huddle under street lights, shouting abuse at one another and catcalling at Eponine when she appears.

For now though, it doesn't deter her. She heads for her destination, a tiny pawn shop next to an alley opening. She ducks in, and makes her way to the counter.

"Please. I have a phone. Didn't I swear I'd find you a phone?" She asks the man behind the counter.

She places Imogen's rose gold iPhone on the counter, before opening her palm and holding it out. "My money, if you please, Sir."