Gutters And Trash {Open}

[OLIVER SAMUEL DAVIES]

The smell of so many people crammed into such a small space assaulted Oliver's nose. Even after so many months, he wasn't used to the noise and congestion, the whirlwind of smells that blended from fresh food to rot beneath feet to sweet perfume and sour sweat and chimney smoke, heat on cobbles, meat piesshoeleatherhorsesflowersspices-

A quick head shake cleared it and with his eyes closed he wished wistfully for a moments clarity in the form of a fresh breath of salt air.

The price of that moment's daydream was a rude shoulder to his back that sent him stumbling a couple of steps. Cursing under his breath, Oliver moved to the side, leaning up against a building and looking about as if he was waiting for someone.

Being inconspicuous, even in such a large city, was not as easy as one would assume.

Exhaustion sat deep in Oliver's bones, sucking the warmth from his skin and dulling the reflexes that fought it with the need to be sharp in order to survive.

With a sigh, he began walking again. Lingering in one place too long was a bad decision at best, and an opportunity to be recognized at worst.

Of course, there were downsides to being invisible.

With hands deep in his pockets and his head down just enough to look unobtrusive and insecure, Oliver's small frame was easy to miss. His clothes hung on his body like rags, disguising how truly thin he'd become, and offering him protection in the form of layers.

It meant when the carriage raced past and sent up a shower of muck, only his outer-most clothes and face were soiled.

Cursing again, Oliver used his sleeve to wipe the muck from his face. When he looked up, it was just in time to notice a second carriage coming the other way, far too close quarters for both to pass, and him right in the way.

Yelping in surprise and mentally berating himself for being so careless, Oliver leaped to the side, tripped over someone's foot, and fell face first into a giant puddle.

[howl]

Billy quite enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the city The voices, the overwhelming smells and the lack of personal space...It was the perfect environment for someone of his profession.
Dodging a carriage, he scurried between the crowds, bumping into larger forms as he hurriedly made his way to...Well, somewhere important, it seemed, as he didn't even take the time to apologize to the men and women who would later on during the day notice the lack of missing pouches, coins and jewelry.

Not that Billy spared much of a thought to their future despair. They were wealthy enough, and could certainly overcome the loss of their precious belongings.
Besides it wasn't as if they would remember him anyhow. He was just a small, scrawny looking boy, who was much to insignificant for them to take the time to tilt their heads down and spare him a glance.
He didn't like being short, but he much rather preferred it to the gallows.

Tall people did tend to attract attention to themselves after all.
Sparing a pretty scarf, wrapped around the shoulders of a woman, a glance, he almost missed the surprised yelp not far from where he was momentarily standing.
The keyword being almost.

People who had fallen over were most certainly very happy to receive help up...Especially the women. he didn't particularly like their rewards of cheek-pinching and head-patting...But they were nearly always generous.
However, there was no lady luck on the ground that day.
Just a poor, pathetic looking fellow who had had the out most privilege of falling face first into a puddle.
Billy cocked his head sligthly to the side, and raised an eyebrow.

The poor sap didn't look much better of than Billy himself. And Billy was one poor looking little soul, with his dirty, large shirt and his too small pants, that clung to his skinny legs, the material ending just below his knobby knees.
And though his feet were wet, as he stood on the edge of the large puddle, he was far better off than the young man in it.
"You're going to get sick if you don't get up from there, you poor, pathetic sod." He rolled his eyes, grabbed the arm of the boy and pulled him upwards.

And still, though the wet male seemed no better off in life than Billy himself, he couldn't help but to dip his fingers into unprotected pockets, searching for coins or something else that he could possibly sell, while the stranger was busy with other things.

"Pretty dumb of you to wander out into the middle of the street and everything. Honestly. Were you dropped on your head as a child? Well, it can't be helped now, can it? Just try not to drown in a puddle again...It's a pretty pathetic way to go, isn't it? "