Mind [Y O U R] Step -- [P I S S] Elixirs Are Here

[Toby]

Reserved for Pirelli (if we get him, G-Moding him for now) && Nellie/Dahlia (if ya wish to join us)
(This is mere days before Sweeney's return)


"You lazy roach! Get up! Get UP NOW!" barked the orders of Signor Adolfo Pirelli, beating the young boy until he woke up, trying to hold back the tears from the punches. "I'm up, Sir! I'm up!" he cried out in pain as Pirelli continued to beat him as Toby hurried through their little area of a house, avoiding his strong hands. Within moments, Tobias was now on the Signor's good graces as he dressed himself in the same old outfit that he usually wore when it came to the business days. For the past few years, Tobias had submitted to his every will, hoping not to anger his master, but at the same time wanted to so he'd get out. Either by death or Pirelli kicking him out.

"LET'S GO! MOVE-A YOUR A**, BOY!" Pirelli screamed at him mere minutes later as Toby tried to eat his breakfast, which was gruel. Taking a few more bites, he hurried up and soon was hurrying outside of the house, trying to get to the large cart before Pirelli began to give harm unto him once more. Humming softly to himself for a while, Toby was making sure everything was in order for the new day. However, Toby wished that he wasn't here. In fact, he wished he had someone else to be around him. Like a mother, even Dahlia would be nice. Dahlia. . . he smiled but as he heard the door slam nearby, Toby hurried to grab the cart. "We're ready Signore," he mumbled, keeping his glances downcast. "Then MOVE."

. . .

Their journey landed them back in the marketplace of Fleet Street and it was here that they claimed their usual spot. As they were setting up, Pirelli kept a constant stern vigil watch over him as he worked. Thirty minutes had passed and all was about to begin as the market opened in a few minutes. "Listen here-a, boy. You mess-a it up today. . .your skin will be-a hurting a whole great deal more than ever before. Are we a-understood?" he growled in a low but highly menacing tone. "Sir, yes, sir," he said, looking this time in his eyes. God, how he wished Pirelli would be gone, but then who would take care of him?

The bells from Dunstan's rang to signal it was eight-thirty. The performance would begin as everyone dragged themselves into the area.

[Mrs. Nellie Lovett.]

---

Busy, that was the only word on her mind. She'd yet to go out to the market and look around through the shops, perhaps someone would have some cheaper meat today. Her shop was about to go under, Lovett couldn't pay off the bills. But she had to some how, she had to keep true to Dahlia. The last of the money that Albert had left her was just running out, and without something they would be evicted, and Lovett didn't know if she could handle that.

"Dahlia, love?" she called from the bottom of the stairs. No reply. Lovett shrugged to herself and grabbed a scratch of parchment and a writing utensil, scribbling her a very quick note which read the following:

Dahlia -
Left to go into town, specifically the market. Perhaps I'll buy some meat so we can make a few pies to try and sell. There's food sitting on the counter for you whenever you wake up. Love you, dearie!
-Nellie

Lovett grinned in satisfaction at the note, setting it on top of the cloth napkin that was resting a top a plate of food for the young girl. With that, she wiped her hands on her white, slightly stained apron and grabbed thin scarf, wrapped it around her neck and headed out the door. She adjusted the small hat that was pinned into her hair, and shivered slightly as her skin was greeted with the cold morning air. Lovett didn't own a proper jacket, so most of the time she had to make sure whatever she was leaving the building to do wouldn't take long, and if it did, wasn't far away.

With her arms crossed over her chest, she first stopped at the meat seller's. None of his prices had dropped, and Lovett couldn't afford anything. Like stated earlier, she needed to save money to pay her bills, not spend it frivolously or on meat for pies. Disgruntled, she left his shop and began through the market, mindlessly wandering until the crowd began moving towards another section. Lovett wasn't one to follow the crowd, so she continued looking through the small tents, occasionally rubbing her arms to 'keep the blood flowing', as her father used to say. A frown was etched on her face as she stared at all of the beautiful objects, all too expensive for her to even consider buying. She needed many new things, not just for herself but for the shop and a gift for Dahlia wouldn't hurt. After all, the girl was an angel, she deserved something for her efforts around the shop.

A sigh was released, her breath forming a small cloud in front of her. This morning seemed particularly cold compared to others. Her eyebrows knitted into a line as she began towards the crowd. They were all crowded around something, but what it was Lovett wasn't sure if she wanted to know, or even cared for that matter. But it had sparked her curiosity, so why not take a peek?

She pushed her way through the crowd, the people occasionally grunting or groaning as she slipped past them. Lovett could've whacked them. She found it particularly rude. Once reaching a place near the front, she stopped and stood, silently watching the entire display before her. She'd seen it many times before. Mr. Pirelli's disgusting liquid that he claimed to be a miracle. Truthfully Lovett thought him to be the most irritating man in all of London, especially with he claimed to be the 'king of barbers'. There was only one man that Nellie knew of that was a king of barbers, and that man had disappeared fifteen years prior.

"Your elixir is almost as dreadful as your accent," she called out to the man from the crowd, a smirk etched on her features. A few people around her stared at her in disbelief while others simply ignored the out spoken woman. She didn't have many manners, but that didn't stop her from having an opinion. Speaking of opinions, Lovett didn't approve of the way he treated the boy, either, but she was a smart woman and had seen the way he was punished. She wouldn't pipe up about that until it became an issue, though...

[/blockquote]

[Toby]

"Your elixir is almost as dreadful as your accent!"

Toby dared not to look back to Pirelli as he was adjusting the wig and putting the hat on his head. A stream of curse words were uttered under Pirelli's breath, muttering also that it was just the stupid pie lady who couldn't make a shilling if her bloody life depending on it. Toby stood there blankly as he stared at his master. "Get your a** out there, a-now!" Pirelli hissed, raising the riding crop that was on the table next to him. Gulping with a nod, Toby rushed outside and picked up the drum as he exited the curtained area.

With the drumstick given to him in one hand, Toby began to bang upon it, hoping to get everyone's attention. Come one, come all, it valiantly called as the young boy continued to bang upon it.

Ladies and gentlemen
May I have your attention, puh-lease?
Do you wake ev’ry morning in shame and despair
To discover your pillow is covered with hair
What ought not to be there?!

Well ladies and gentlemen
From now on you can waken at ease
You need never again have a worry or care
I will show you a miracle marvelous rare

Gentlemen, you are about to see
Something what rose from the dead-- (a girl screamed)
On the top of my head!

. . .

Toby continued his song and they reaped the profit from it all. Well, Pirelli would. As everyone left satisfied in believing that they had bought a miraculous wonder, the crowds began to buy their normal groceries as Pirelli began his to do his daily shavings. "Boy. Go buy some cream. Don't be a-late or it'll be your a-hide." Pulling out some coins, he slapped them into Toby's hand and Toby looked up to him as if he had bought his freedom. "GO."

Without a moment's hesitation, Toby rushed off the platform and heading to where he'd find the materials. Of course, he was being timed, but if he could only lie to say the traffic was horrible, he'd be safe. Perhaps, just maybe, someone would show him pity and love on him. Even if for a little while. A decent meal or at least a piece of fruit sounded so good right now. . .

[Mrs. Nellie Lovett.]

---

Lovett watched the entire display, disgusted through and through. A smirk remained on her face the entire performance. What in the hell did this man think he was going to make off of it? Apparently a bloody good profit, after all people were swarming around the stand like flies, and the bottles were flying out into the crowd at a miraculous pace. Lovett's nose wrinkled as a bottle passed by, close to her face. The stench was unbearable, literally unbearable. It was the most she could do to make it through the performance.

She sighed as the show ended, the crowd beginning to leave. She turned to do the same, listening to the conversation going on behind her between the boy and Pirelli. So he was sending him off to buy cream? Pirelli didn't look like he needed cream, but the boy looked like he needed something to eat and a good scrubbing. Lovett watched carefully as he took off past her, heading in a particular direction. Her curiosity began to get the better of her. If the boy was smart he wouldn't buy the cream, but buy something to benefit himself. Her legs began to function, her damnable impulsiveness surfacing as she followed the boy to his destination.

Her eyes never left the boy's body (then again with that wig he was a bit hard to miss), and eventually she caught up to him, walking in a casual pace next to him. He looked worse up close, as though the years in the workhouses (it was obvious he'd been there, Dahlia looked about the same when she'd rescued her from the dreadful man that mistreated her) had done their damage on him. Lovett smirked, still occasionally rubbing her arms to keep the heat generating. She walked in silence for a few moments.

"You look hungry, so I can only assume you are. What in particular do you want?" she asked, watching him as she continued walking along beside him, looking off now and then to admire something that was sitting on a table of another tent. Many of the men were filing towards Pirelli's cart for a shave. It was like walking through a sea of them. Lovett didn't understand, shaving themselves with a fork would've been a better shave than what Pirelli could give them. If only he was still living in London... But she reminded herself that he wasn't, and now she was following a young boy around the market. He probably thought she was some insane woman following him around for fun.

"C'mon now, I don't have all day and neither do you. I've got a shop to go tend to," that was basically a lie through her teeth, she wouldn't have any customers just like usual, "and you've got a barber to please." After all, Lovett didn't want to see the boy punished for simply being a few minutes late. Perhaps if he was she would take the blame for him. Pirelli couldn't beat her by any means, and if he did then he'd receive a beating in return. Lovett reached into a small purse that she held in her waist band, pulling out a few coins.

"We'll buy him his cream and something for you to eat." She stated as she shifted the coins over in her hand, forcing herself to keep the longing look out of her eyes. This was for a good cause, she wasn't spending her money foolishly, she was helping someone. She found she had to keep reminding herself to keep from stuffing the coins back into the cloth pouch in her waist band and turning and leaving the boy. She didn't doubt he was suffering with the barber, and she could at least try to brighten his day a little bit. Maybe, since Dahlia wasn't there, she would be happy to know that Lovett had spent her money on a small boy instead of meat to make pies, something for their own cause. Her greed for a successful business would have to be put aside and she would have to continue with her worries for a little longer. She and Dahlia would just have to struggle for a few more days...

[/blockquote]

[Dahlia Bird.]

her dress

---

"Dahlia, love?"
The cry was faint but the young girls ears picked it up. Her head turned around, eyes gazing through the filthy window on the door of the apartment upstairs. Dahlia opened her mouth to speak, but decided otherwise. She felt the need to be alone right now. Even Miss Nellie herself couldn't drag her from the seclusion of the damask room. Soft footsteps carried her towards the dresser in the corner of the room, the mirror covered in dust and cobwebs. Thin hands reached into the bodice of her dress to retrieve a large locket which she always wore around her neck. She opened it slowly, fingers tracing around the face of the older female holding a baby girl. "Mother.." she breathed in a whisper. Oh, how she missed the woman who would hold her and protect her from her fathers beatings. How she missed the woman who made her life enjoyable. How she missed the woman who loved her like no other ever would. A tear almost fell from her eye, but she quickly brushed it away. There was no time for this. Her mother was dead, and nothing would bring her back.

Dahlia jumped as she heard the bell on the door downstairs ring and the door slam violently. She rushed to the window just in time to see Miss Nellie walking down the street in the cold morning air. Without a moments delay she shoved the locked closed and rammed it down her bodice again. She couldn't risk having Miss Nellie see the locket. With the woman being so wonderful and all, Dahlia knew that if she saw the pictures inside the locket it would break her heart. Miss Nellie had rescued her from a life of work and punishments, and had treated her like a daughter, since she had none of her own. Dahlia didn't want Miss Nellie to feel as though she wasn't being loved in return due to the way she kept the locket so close to her heart.

But Miss Nellie could never replace Dahlias mother, and deep down inside, Dahlia hoped that she knew it as well.

Snatching the key off the dresser, she waited for Miss Nellie to disappear in the crowd before she slipped out the door, closing it gently and locking it, then running down the stairs. If Miss Nellie knew she had been up in the apartment.. Dahlia shuddered at the thought. Miss Nellie had told her all about the barber who had lived there years before, and her own affections for him. She knew everything about the tragedy that took place, and whenever she saw the beggar woman wandering the streets, she gave her a coin, although she knew that herself and Miss Nellie couldn't spare anything. Dahlia was just too kind of a soul to see the poor Lucy living in the slums. Every day Dahlia saw the woman, she smiled and curtsied to her, greeting her with "Good Morning, Miss Lucy," or something of the sort.

The bell clanged behind her as she entered the shop to find it empty, as usual. But one thing was different- a piece of paper sat on a plate of food. A smile came to her thin lips as she read the note from Miss Nellie, then glanced down at the food. She knew this was a tough time for the two of them, and they needed to keep all the food they possibly could. So Dahlia simply picked up a roll and ate it quickly, then brushed her hands off on her skirt. Grabbing a black shawl, she returned the key to the apartment to it' s hidden spot in the cupboard, then grabbed one of the shop keys from its hook on the wall. Wrapping the shawl around her shoulders, she headed off towards the market, cold air stinging her face and whipping at her hair wildly, although it was pinned back neatly into a bun. Since she had nothing better to do, she might as well find Miss Nellie and tell her that they were out of milk while she was shopping. and keep her company.

[ooc; HOLYSHITTHAT'SLONG! I really didn't mean for it to be so long.. but apparently my muse came back! lol xp]

[Toby]

[ooc: welcome back k-mon's muse!]

Toby was on his way, ignoring the bystanders as he walked through the streets and crowds. They had little bearing on what he was focused on, thus when Nellie first spoke to him, Toby unintentionally ignored the woman. Then, she spoke to him again about having a shop and that she needed to take care of that right now. Walking a few more steps as the two were finally out of the marketplace, Toby turned around to face her.

"Well then go 'ake 'are of yer shop, ma'am. I cain't take moments away from the Signore. He'll skin me arse alive if I'm late," Toby said most respectfully without having to sound like he was being rude. As he was about to turn around, her offer to buy him something caught his attention and a raised eyebrow popped up. "You'd do that? Fer me? Coo. . ." Toby replied in shock. He couldn't believe his ears! Someone actually wanted to give him something to . . . eat!? This was awkward as he thought about it. Hopefully she wasn't giving him a charity case. "Well, if yer buying, then why did are yeh so hateful sometimes when I'm talking?"

Soon enough, Toby was looking around him, knowing that he was still a few blocks away from the location he needed to be and then he saw a girl headed their way. . .It couldn't be! His eyes widened and his mouth gaped open like a caught fish. "Dahlia? Is that you?" he inquired with a grin.

[Mrs. Nellie Lovett.]

---

"O'course I would, I'm not that stiff," she said with a slight grin. Now she was beginning to lose the regret that had built up inside her. She felt better for helping the boy than she had earlier. Earlier it was just like she was doing a good deed for the sake of doing one, like it was going to better her chances when Judgement Day came. Now it felt like a genuinely good thing to do since the boy seemed so surprised about it. Lovett enjoyed surprising people, especially people that had a different first impression of her.

"Why I'm so hateful? Oh, dear, I'd think you of all people would know. Mr. Pirelli, he's such a prig." She rolled her eyes, shifted the scarf around her neck, and cleared her throat before continuing. "I can't stand the looks of him, let alone the thought of him. The way he claims he's so wonderful..." Lovett sighed and brushed a curl or two away from her face. "Sad thing is I know of someone that does a much better job than him but never takes the credit for it." She looked off towards a tent farther away, trying to spot any merchants that would be selling food. "But that's no concern of yours. Now, what are you hungry for, dear?"

It was true, she would be open about her feelings towards the exiled barber. If he hadn't returned by now, what were his chances of returning at all? There wasn't any one in London that would look down on her for it, after all his wife was completely batty and his daughter was the ward of the judge, never knowing either of the two of them. All the poor thing knew was the judge. Often Lovett wanted to help to girl, to get her out of the mess she was in. She didn't deserve to be the 'property' of that scumbag, the way he bent the law to benefit for himself. Benjamin Barker hadn't deserved to be exiled, but it had been done just so that roach Turpin could reap the benefit of what was left. Lovett didn't sympathize for Barker's wife, though, after all when the family had been boarding there Lucy had never liked her anyways, or so she thought. After all that Lovett had done for her, the little blonde snob had the nerve to be so ungrateful about it. She wouldn't let her any where near her precious Johanna. To think, Nellie had opened her shop, her home, to the family and then the woman treated her like she was some walking-talking disease.

Filthy whore, Lovett thought to herself angrily, the only thing that little wench is good for is popping out snooty little blonde girls just like herself. Lovett may not have loathed Johanna with the loathing that she held for Lucy, but that didn't mean she liked her. Sympathy wasn't the same as liking someone, it just meant you felt bad for them. You didn't have to like someone to feel empathetic towards their situation. Perhaps the only reason that Lovett felt bad for Johanna was because she, herself, had been in a situation that wasn't any better. It may not have been the same, but regardless, it gave her cause for being able to understand.

"And as for Mr. Pirelli, he won't lay a hand on you if you're late, I'll make sure of it. Any reason you'd be late can be blamed on me and if I have to I'll be the one to tell him that," she stated in that 'matter-of-factly' tone that she often held in her voice. "He's a dirtbag for treating you the way he does," she muttered to herself. Lovett perked slightly at hearing the boy speak. She turned to look, smiling slightly at the sight of Dahlia. Even in her plain, dark clothing she looked beautiful. Dahlia seemed to hold that quality, the natural adolescent beauty that few women were capable of. Lovett knew for sure it wasn't something that she, herself, held. Lovett didn't like the way she looked. When she was younger she was often told she was pretty, but the years of stress and worrying and the abuse suffered from her late husband... well, it had taken its toll on her, to say the least. Perhaps there was still some form of it there, but if it was it was incredibly subtle and only noticed by few.

As for the boy and Dahlia, they apparently knew each other. It surprised her only slightly, because the logical side of her debated that any one who had been forced into a work house would meet people regardless of whether they wanted to or not. It was a simple thing to figure out, really, but the coincidence of the two of them meeting again was what was more surprising. She could only assume that most of the children in workhouses never saw the friends they made again. It reminded her of her friend Benjamin Barker and herself... Perhaps she was missing him more than she thought. It was beginning to make her slightly uncomfortable. Lovett didn't typically miss people, after all, look at Albert. But this was Benjamin Barker, the man who had been her friend through the year he had lived above her shop and had listened to her, allowed her to confide in him, when things were going completely off their track.

But that was then, this was now. There was really no one else in all of London, or probably even in the world for that matter, that would listen to her the way Benjamin had. Lovett could've laughed at the way it made her relationship with him seem more than friendship, but she valued it, and then to have it taken from her abruptly for the stupidest reason she'd ever heard... well, it was rather heart-breaking. But it was no time to sit and lose herself in a reverie. She had a boy to feed, a barber to confront about his violent tendencies, and a shop to tend to. Eventually.

[/blockquote]

[Dahlia Bird.]

---

Now, Dahlia had always been a polite young lady. Her mother raised her right, some might say, and taught her manners and the rules of society. And her father had taught her the ways of society, the punishments, the beatings, the laws, and most importantly- the standards she would never live up to. One could say her father taught her well, seeing as the girl never felt herself up to par, never felt as though she was doing enough, always wanted to do more, always wanted to go out of her way for someone for anything, just so she would feel good enough. But her mother had imprinted into her mind kindness and grace and natural beauty and peace and calm and poise and manners. And those talents she cherished and held true to day after day.

"Dahlia? Is that you?"

However, there were the times when her youth and excitement got the better of her and she forgot the basics of some things her mother taught her.

Like now.

Dahlia had scarcely spotted Miss Nellie when the cry from a young boy was uttered, and a shriek of her own came. "Tobias!!" she called out, jogging towards the boy and stooping down to elapse him in a tight hug. "Oh, Tobias, I've missed you so!" she pulled away, smiling, hands resting on the boys shoulders. It was then she noticed the bruises and cuts and scars that adorned the boys entirety. "Tobias!" she exclaimed in horror, tears beginning to come to her bright blue eyes. "What has happened to you?"

[Toby]

The warm feelings, the gentle nature, speaking to him as though he were a person and not an animal, this made Toby feel safe and secure. "He may be a prig, Ma'm, but he 'ept me safe an' warm on more than one cold n'ght," Toby said defending his master for a short moment. Of course, the facade was hiding the truth below. He was ailing, his health truly failing and he was surprised he hadn't died. Yet. However, it was noticeable to many that it appeared the boy hadn't slept, drank, nay, not even ate well ever since he came to be with Pirelli. Sure, gruel wasn't enough, but it was a meal. To Toby, gruel was heavenly compared to having nothing at all.

Now this lady was trying to be noble, stick up for him and say she'd take the blame. Tobias Ragg knew better. No matter what, Pirelli would still punish him. If he was late and someone took the blame, Pirelli would lie to their faces and tell them one thing. It all changed when they got back home later -- whippings occurred as did profanities as well as how useless he was. Then came the statement that he should be grateful that he took him in, that he didn't let him die on the streets.

As Dahlia embraced him and then spoke of the horror of seeing what had become of him, Tobias fought himself to hold back the tears. He was going to lie to the one person he loved as a sister and as a guardian angel. "I trip a lot. You were gone when it happened, but I broke a part of me foot an' well. . .it happens. As for the scars, it's the cobbl'stones." Looking back to Nellie, he knew she truly knew why but hoped she wouldn't reveal it. Not to Dahlia. His stomach rumbled and he knew the cream as well as the Signor were waiting. "Good day taer yer both," he spoke rather quickly and then began to walk off again. Lunch or not, he needed to get back to Pirelli. And fast.