Snippet #1458175

There was a general sense of meandering around the widow's shop, as the troupe of misfits loitered around, they really hadn't done much since the wake of this morning, with the exception of Mini, whom simply played his instrument for fun. The others sat around and watched, listened.... T'was truly an uneventful day. The group finally stood, and looked amongst each other, with a shared sigh.

"Cor. W'ot tha bloo'y 'ell are we supposed ter do now?" Chimbley piped monotonely, looking to his friends.
"You could always practice your act, Chim." Mini called over the musical wheezes and tones of his acordion, which danced playfully in his hands. His hat sat in front of him, serving as a coincatch.

"Or perhaps do something more productive." Sprocket added, raising his eyebrow as he looked them over. "You could always....hell...get a job as a street vendor, or something."

Chimbley turned and gave the older twin his painfully blunt look of sarcasm. "Oi, I'm sure tha' pe'ple woul' love a filthy street boy passin' 'em food. You fink I rememb'r las' time I 'ad a bahf? No, be'er question: When wos the las' time you 'ad a bahf?" Chimbley asked, himself raising an eyebrow to match Sprocket's.

"Twenty-seven days ago." The twin replied dryly.

"Lawks. Not liek yer countin', roight?" Chimbley said, puffing air through his nose, and coughing lightly.

Wrench popped forth from the alleyway. "Now now, you two," He said brightly. "Don't fight! Or at least not without someone here to watch it! Fights seem to the climax of dramas these days!" He offered a short chuckle at the two, whom looked at each other, then Wrench.

"Die in a fire." Both chimed at the same time, almost in chorus. Wrench shrank lightly, still laughing to himself.

Mini finally stopped playing his instrument and gave a bow, the small audience he had gathered by himself clapped lightly, and offered a few pennies from what they could spare unto his hat. He thanked them, and picked his beret, counting their obtained funding. He turned on his heels, his acordion dangling from his neck from it's strap. "That's twenty, boys and girl." He said, emptying his hat's contents into his jacket's pocket. The crowd looked up from their conversations towards their esteemed father figure whom patted the coin filled pouch on his jacket. "That means it's lunchtime." The party shared a mild 'woo' of enthusiasm.

They all started to move, at their shambling walk, down the crowded streets of the lower district, pushing through the crowds. They offered waves and pats on the back to those whom they passed and knew. Again, chitter rose amongst the group.

"So! What's everyone going to get this time?!" asked the estatic Wrench, whom turned to talk to the rest of the group.

"Plain bread is how you get your money's worth." His twin replied. "It's clearly the best answer.

"Sweetrolls!" Bonnie exclaimed, her arms shooting out in the air. "Sugar makes everything better!"

"Meh..." Chimbley dawdled. "I'll see whens we get there."

Mini stayed silent, letting the others talk around him. He was just glad that they were getting another meal. The bread vendor wasn't the best choice, but by all means, it kept them alive. Their chatter grew, causing distraction amonst them. Wrench, the young twin was no longer watching where he was going, which was a large distress for people walking in his direction. But finally, it was interrupted, this ignorant stride, as the blonde haired repairman smacked dead into something, and toppled over, the group stopping, and gawking.

"Sheesh, Wrench." Bonnie whined. "For a mechanic, you're as clumsy as your brother is boring."

"Shush!" Mini said urgently, before looking harshly to the others. They all refocused (except for poor Wrench, whom was still dazed from the trip) on what had happened. The twin had toppled over .... what looked to be... some sort of baroness! Or royalty! Or....something....of that nature.

Chimbley groaned, bringing his hand to his face. "Bollocks, Wrench. You don't own th' entire bloo'y road. Ya jus' rolled straight ofer a girl! A rich one, too, by the looks o' it. Better appologize; She migh' turn ya in ter tha law!"

Mini walked over to the woman, looking at her through his messy, curly hair. She was quite palid, and frail looking, with dark chestnut hair, that shimmered with radiance. The clothing that was now probably dirty from the ground, was an elegant parisian dress, probably custom sewn just for her. He offered her a gloved hand, bending lightly at the knees so she could reach him. "I'm VERY sorry, Miss. So terribly sorry..." He started, his mouth just about the only facial feature you could recognize, which was covered in a worried frown.