[open] From the Cripples to St. James'...

[knowntohisfriends]

There's a right nip in the air when the Dodger steps out in the early morning to begin his business for the day. Well, his business, Fagin's business, it's all the same when it comes down to brass coins dragged from the bottom of pockets. He rubs his hands together, making a note to lift himself some gloves at some point during the day - if he recollects correctly, the ones from last year weren't really as decent as he would have liked. Not terrible, but for a gent of taste like himself, they weren't up to scratch.

Scratch... scratchings... pork scratchings. Hm. His stomach grumbled a bit. Looks like the sausages at the den weren't enough. Right, well that decided the plan for the day then. Breakfast first, and then on with the work of the day. The markets would be the best places to check. Maybe the one down by St James, folks would be too distracted to pay attention to a kid nipping among them.

Seemed like a good plan, and the Dodger grinned, adjusting his hat to just the right angle.

Right. Time for work.

Comments

[knowntohisfriends]

The Dodger glanced at the menu, mostly to give himself time to think. Obviously the lady wanted something from him, but the what was the bit that was stumping him. Information on people? He was good at finding once he knew who he was lookin' for. Could be that.

He ordered, a tea and a roll and sausage. He weren't in the mood for much.

[freelife]

Evie just orders tea, and waits for it to arrive before she pours them each a cup. Her handling of a teapot is precise and calculated, all part of her Victorian upbringing. After properly sweetening her tea, she looks across the table at her companion.

"My name is Evie Frye." She extends a hand to him.

[knowntohisfriends]

He shakes the hand.

"Jack Dawkins, better known to me friends and intimate acquaintances as the Artful Dodger," he introduces himself. Leaning back on the chair, he keeps a close watch on Ms. Evie Frye. "An' I'm reckonin' you're wanting use of my services?"

[freelife]

He's quite the little showman. She nods.

"Quite astute of you, Mr. Dawkins. Yes, I would. And I can reward you handsomely in exchange."

[knowntohisfriends]

In his line of work, being able to keep people distracted with showmanship comes in handy. He leans on the table, taking a drink from his tea. He bites into the roll and sausage and looks to be considering what's been said to him.

"An' what kind of numbers we talking? Or would you be offerin' somethin' other than money?"

[freelife]

"I'll take it on a case by case basis. But in exchange for your services, I can guarantee you a safe house, should you need it, a hot meal whenever you like, and my protection., if it suits you"

She knew who he worked for. Not the horrors that occurred within, but she knew of Fagin.

[knowntohisfriends]

He looks to the side, blowing some air out through his mouth and giving a scoff.

"Nah, got it all wrong. I'm not the one who'd be needin' a safe spot - I c'n always find those. C'n even get me own food an' drink, when it comes down to it." He turned back, looking at her with narrowed eyes. "But I seen you, around this fine city of ours. I seen what you c'n do."

[freelife]

Cocky little thing, wasn't he? Jacob would love him.

She raises an eyebrow carefully. "Oh? And what precisely do you mean by that?" There were many things she could do.

[knowntohisfriends]

The Dodger glances around them, taking note of the other people in the cafe before he looks directly at Evie.

"Now, there's nice people here what don't know of the different businesses, so we'll keep the more colourful details on the quiet, right?" He pauses. "But then there's that free runnin' stuff..." Another pause, as he takes a drink. His tone has become casual, carefree and relaxed. "Tried that meself, once, almost broke me neck. Wasn't much use to anyone laid up in bed like that."

[freelife]

Evie's a smart woman. Besides, she isn't about to share the finer details of her life as an Assassin with a child. Even if he seems wise beyond his years.

"Well, who better a teacher than someone who's been at it for over 100 years?" She could tell him all about the time she leapt from a lot of tall buildings. Those were always the most exhilarating things to do, along with her zipline.

[knowntohisfriends]

The Dodger would react badly to being called a child. He isn't a child, he would insist, and he hasn't been a child for a long, long time. It's best that no one ever tries to call him one, it lends to his temper.

"That could be an arrangment what I c'n deal with," he responds with a cheery grin

[freelife]

He’s fourteen. She’s over one-hundred. Anyone under 85 is pretty much a child to her. It’s nothing personal.

“Alright. We’re starting small- I won’t have you scaling Big Ben just yet."

[knowntohisfriends]

Even if confronted with that, the Dodger would likely still raise his chin in defiance and keep eye gaze level with her. He was not a kid. It had been a long, long time since he had been a kid - if he ever got the time to be one.

"Course not, too showy."

[freelife]

"We'll start with St. Paul's." A joke. Seriously, no, they are not scaling churches any time soon thank you very much. He's going to maybe scale a two foot wall.

"Now, with regard to information. I'll take anything as you see fit. From time to time, I may ask you to report back on specific subjects, or deliver messages. Can I count on you?"

[knowntohisfriends]

There's a shrug from him.

"Much as you c'n trust anyone in this city." He pushes his cup around a little. "An', 'course, barin' in mind the information what you're lookin' for don't effect me an' mine."

[freelife]

"Of course not." She asks, for clarification: "You're one of Fagin's, aren't you?"

[knowntohisfriends]

There's a pause.

"So you know of the esteemed gentleman, then?"

[freelife]

"I do. And I'm sure he's heard of me." So don't say her name to him, please.

"He was operating when I first came to London."

[knowntohisfriends]

He gets the message, giving a brief nod.

"Long as the business don't impede, there won't be nothin' from me."

[freelife]

"I would never ask you to betray your own," she says solemnly, extending her hand again.

"100 pounds to start seem good to you?"

[knowntohisfriends]

100 quid... how much of it would he get to keep if Fagin got wind?

"Seems fair. What you lookin' for?"

[freelife]

Evie reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a wallet. It's simple, but the tailoring on it is impeccable, the black leather soft. In the corner, her initials were engraved, pressed into the leather. Expensive, but nothing you'd be able to pawn.

Without any ado, she starts counting out bills- 20 pound notes. Easier to hide, if need-be. She knew how things worked on Dodger's part of town. "Anything with regards to what few Raymond supporters we have left, is what I've got my eye on right now."

She pauses, looks up at him, and adds an extra 20 as she speaks: "and let's keep the old one out of it, if we can, shall we?" He doesn't have to answer. The money is his.

[knowntohisfriends]

Dodger eyes the wallet. The pressed initials would cause problems if he tried to pawn it, but it wasn't impossible to get rid of them, just really bloomin' hard and not worth the cost. "EF" weren't the most common initials either. Not uncommon an' not common. Made it hard to try to pawn it off as was. The softness of the leather would be a draw to a good number of people but... Nah, not worth it. Besides, he was doin' business with her now. Had to keep her on side.

"Raymond supporters," he keeps his eyes on the notes, giving a nod to show that he's understanding. He does glance up at the request, raising an eyebrow. The expression on his face is very easy to read: what kind of green mark do you take me for?

[freelife]

She nods. "I want to make sure my investments stay secure. There are always remaining supporters after a coup like that."

Hey, she has to be careful, and she gives hm a look about that, too. But she hands him the money.

[knowntohisfriends]

The Dodger snorts. Remainin' supporters... That was one way to put it.

"It'll be done."