31, July '95 — High Street

There was a new spring in her step, and the urchin was sure that half of High Street noticed that part. Hard not to, when someone like her had something new to wear. Charley wore it proudly, too, right on her collar with her braid tucked out of the way. She made sure her chin wasn't casting a shadow, and sometimes craned her neck up in just the right way to push out her collar bone, giving the badge just the right place to catch a gleam of light.

It would have been the right time for it, too, if she'd still been stuck up at that drafty castle. Charley was sure she would have earned her own this summer, there was no doubt about that in her mind. Anyone paying attention could see she'd earned it, after all the hard work she put in at the shop and in her lessons with the new, stiff-backed tutor. Seeing familiar faces she recognized from her year walking around with a shiny new piece of jewelry on their collars gave the urchin a reason to take a long, hard look at herself in the mirror.

The new skirts for her longer legs looked odd to a working gal used to the freedom of trousers, but she picked them for the right reason today. She was looking to blend in, just enough to look like others her age. There was hardly a soul on High Street who might pass her with a second glance if she donned skirts, none who knew her only in her shirt and trousers anyhow. The urchin didn't care if a few recognized her anyway, there was only one person she wanted to spot her and have a laugh at his face when he did.

It was his shiny prefect badge she was sporting on her collar, after all.

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Charles Whymper

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Writer Notes: Charley is a street urchin in both appearance and behavior, unless written otherwise here.
Interactions may reflect Victorian-era morals rather than modern sensibilities; this is allowed and acceptable to this writer.

Charles was going to murder Charley.

He wasn't a violent person. He didn't think he had that much of a temper, not usually. But he was going to murder Charley and honestly, at this point, he thought he had enough evidence to justify it that no jury could convict him.

The post that morning had come with a surprise that wasn't really much of a surprise actually--Charles had been dreading the possibility that he'd be picked for Head Boy, because it wasn't like he had anything else to worry about this year, but he supposed that, from an outside perspective, he seemed like a reasonable choice.

But when he'd gone to look for his old prefect badge, it was gone. He'd searched all over his bedroom for it, and then all over the house, but it had been nowhere to be found. He didn't know where he'd lost it, and though he wasn't sure he needed it, Charles still felt like it was a bad omen that it was missing on this morning in particular.

He didn't know where it had gone--at least until he was out in town and spotted the familiar badge in a place it should not have been. "CHARLEY!" Charles didn't even spare a moment to think before he was stomping his way across the high street toward her.

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The following 1 user Likes Charles Whymper's post:1 user Likes Charles Whymper's post
   Charley Goode

He parted the crowds like the street was his own, walking with a wide stance, the sort to make anyone else get out of his path. Charley thought it was flattering, really, the way he stomped toward her without eyes for anyone else. If she only ignored the way he said her name, it was almost enough just to be the object of his whole attention. She didn't get that very often, and hardly ever from someone like Charles Whymper, anyway.

"That's my name, though ya don't gotta be treatin' it so rough like." The urchin chided him, backing up as he drew near. She tried to take as many steps back as he did forward, which was a bit harder in skirts and boots. Da would be disappointed she was out of practice in costumes, but for the moment Charley only had one man's disappointment to worry about. "Gots to keep it shiny, yeah? With a good care to polish it now an' then."

Charley grinned at her own cleverness, and drew an arm up over her chest. She gave the stolen prefect badge a nice polish with her sleeve, just in case he wasn't getting the idea. He was naturally, that ol' Chuckster had plenty enough brains for what he lacked in brawn, and he sure did lack plenty. The new badge on his chest made her stop for a moment, and before the urchin knew it Charles had come necktie-to-eye-level with her.

"I see ya got a new one...that was today, right?" Charley had seen the owls flocking out from the castle like anyone else in town, knowing exactly what they were. She made her move today for that reason, and it had been a very good reason at the time. Not that the urchin wasn't giving it a bit of thinking over now. It might be a bit too late to give Charles his badge back without him knowing about it, and she'd sooner doff her cap at him than apologize. "It's fittin' for sure! An' mind, I's rootin' for ya..."

She'd wanted to laugh in his face, but Charley was giving that a bit of thinking over, too. This close up, Charles was actually rather tall, well-built, and much older than the first time she'd spied the Duke of Limbs gangling through an alley. But, and the urchin grinned to think about it, she could probably still take him on...for long enough anyway.

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Writer Notes: Charley is a street urchin in both appearance and behavior, unless written otherwise here.
Interactions may reflect Victorian-era morals rather than modern sensibilities; this is allowed and acceptable to this writer.