Elysian ⊱ Seth Clearwater

/ONE/

London, Britain, October 1911

Feathers flew in the breeze, carriages rolled and hooves clapped on the dreary streets of London. Shouts were heard as frowny adults pulled their whining children along, bums begged for tuppence, and hitchhikers popped on and off.

One of these hitchhikers, a young boy, darted through the streets, his bag bumping against his hip as the too-large shoes pounded the pavement. He wasn't overly remarkable or strange, gaunt with long hair, holey clothes three sizes too big.

The boy was likeable though, able to turns frowns upside down with a glance from his large puppy dog eyes. However, at this time, knocking people down and in a rush, he was not particularly acceptable.

Finally, the boy seemed to reach his destination, stopped at a newspaper stand and slamming a bag of coins onto the chipped wooden surface.

"HA!" The boy cried triumphantly, "I told you I could sell 150 by sunset! Didn't I, mam?!" he spun around, dancing a little jig. The aging woman, manning the stand with her husband chuckled.

"Yes, you definitely told me, Oleander." The boy, now known as Oleander, eagerly leans forward as if waiting for something with a happy grin on his elven features.

The old woman reached under the cart and pulled out a loaf of bread and slid it over to the boy. She also counted out half the coins and distributed them with the bread. Light glinted off the money from the dying sun.

The old woman tapped her fingers together, "Might want to get home quick, boy. Strange creatures haunt at night." Oleander nodded with an easy smile, used to the warnings the old lady gave.

"Of course, Mrs. Lovett. I'll see you tomorrow."
Oleander gave a quick salute, nodding to Mr. Lovett and slipping off, happy with his earnings of the day. Mum and Dad would be happy to not have to worry about food as much, though they would worry about him, it'll be past dark when he gets home, Oleander realized.

Oleander waited until a relatively slow carriage rolled by and jumped onto the footholds on the corner. He'd take this one to the end of the street, then he'd have to go through the dark edgy parts of town if he wanted to get home to the lake quicker.

It would be mighty stupid, but the faster he got home, the less Mum and Dad would worry. Besides, Oleander thought, screwing up his face in contemplation, he didn't really have anything to steal except a few coins, nothing of real worth.

Soon enough, Oleander's stop arrived and the boy disembarked from his stolen ride, hair whipping about. He stopped quick though, was this really smart, should he go through? Oleander had heard all sorts of stories of people that had gone missing one night, monsters taken hold of them, never letting go.

There weren't many people at this time, the previous bustling streets, feeling abandoned and scary under the early night sky. There was a man in a dark overcoat reading a newspaper, The Daily Telegraph, worst bloody newspaper in the city, a lady ushering her children inside, and a few other stragglers.