From the gutter too

S

Stheno

Guest
Original poster
He had been working through the night, the clang of th hammer could be heard houses away.... When he heard it. Over the clang of metal against metal, the yells. " shit! The window! This isn't cheap!" the yells of the butcher acrossed the street. Cries of outrage, blows and oofs. He ran his fibers through his short hair wiping the spot from his hands on his apron and walking out, hammer in hand,

" 'ey! What're ye doin'?" the men blink and then grin seeing the blacksmith. Van was known to be a stern man, strict to the rules, minded his own business for the most part. " we caught this filth breaking into our shop, broke a window too, we plan to take it put of his hide.... Whatever good his skinny little ass will do us" a boy is pushed forward, grabbed by his hair and face forced up, welts and bruises were forming.... A collar was still clamped around his small neck.
 
This boy was known as A. He didn't really have a name. His parents had never given him one. So he just goes by A. He looked up at the blacksmith. A had been rough handled before. The streets weren't kind to anyone. Not even to kids like himself. There were rings around his eyes that permanently marked his face from lack of sleep and nutrition. However, he ate better than most people on the streets. A considered himself to have one of the best minds in the entire city. And he was probably correct in assuming so. A was quite smart and often retreated to the library when he was not hungry and trying to grab a bite to eat.

He broke a window merely as a mistake. A hardly made mistakes, but the alley cat was going to blow his cover anyway. "Stupid cat..." A muttered under his breath. A's mistake was going to cost him this time. To make matters worse, they had given him a collar. The nerve of people these days. It was just so absurd. If anything, A would escape within the week like he did every time. He didn't say anything as the two people around him pondered about what should be done with him.
 
Van looked at the malnourished boy and he smiles inwardly seeing the look of defiance mixed in with his pain. He looks at the window and then back at the boy, " kid, can you work?" If the answer was yes he would tell the man to drop him, he would pay for the window, the boy would work his debt off with him. If the answer was no... he would leave the boy to his fate, which at this point was probably gonna be death from internal bleeding due to all the kicks and punches he was receiving at this very moment. But Van liked the boy, liked his spunk..... his look of it. That could be very useful to him
 
A took but a few moments to ponder his situation. There was really no other option except to work for the man. He had broken the window and it was only natural he should have to pay for it. On top of which, he was almost positive that the other person who had nearly killed him would surely finish the job if he said no. A was really thinking that death would not be such a horrid idea. He thought it was obvious that he was truly in no condition to do any hard labor with the fresh wounds he currently sustained. Nonetheless, he would try his luck. A was doubtful that he had any other option besides death at this point. He mine as well go with some type of fight.

"Yes. I can work." A said flatly.

He did say anything more and simply left the rest to the adults. It wasn't like they cared about him all that much anyhow.
 
He nods looking at the rebellious boy " drop him l will pay the window , come lad " he turns knowing the butcher will drop him because the smith could pummel him and he expects the youth to follow him. He could catch the boy easily if he tried to run and then he would be dead, they used fist.... He would use a hammer
 
A was in no condition to run. In fact, he was limping and making quite a bit of effort to simply keep up with the blacksmith. "How in the bloody hell am I supposed to work if I can't even walk?" A muttered angrily to himself. He was quiet enough so that no one could hear.

He spat blood on the ground. Something else about A was that he needed glasses. His vision was not particularly favorable. He could see things around him, but things farther than a stone's throw away was like trying to see in the dark blindfolded. Even squinting was futile. Though it was unlikely that the blacksmith new this yet. In fact, the man had been so rude as to not even ask for his name. Suppose A did lose his senses and try to run. If he got away, the man would never be able to find him without a name.

"May I have your name sir?" A asked with rather forced politeness.
 
He notices the limp and glances looking at the ragged and beaten boy. He was not a cruel man, just stern. He leans down and hefts the boy up supporting him, allowing him the diginity of still using his own two feet. " My name is Van. What is yours?" He looks the smaller boy over and looks at him. He looked like amouse who had been stepped on too many times. He takes him to his forge and allows him to move on his own, " in the back is a tub. Clean yourself off and I will see what I have in way of cloth.... whose collar is it you wear?" his eyes settle on the thick band of iron around the boys neck
 
"My name is A." He said. A was grateful for the support, "And this collar that you speak of? It's mine."

Who else's collar could it have been if not his? He shook his head. Of course the blacksm... Van would not know. A had tried all means by which to remove the accursed piece of metal. However, all efforts had been futile. What was convenient was that the blacksm... Van would probably have the tools by which to remove the collar safely. A wouldn't ask Van to remove the collar. If Van wanted it gone, it would be off him. If anything, this would be an easier way to identify A in case he got away.

It was here that A started to ponder about what Van thought of his name. Perhaps he would know that it was a rather odd name. In fact, did Van know anything of A's parents. Perhaps not. Though that didn't stop the thought from wandering into A's mind.
 
He chuckles at the boy " you are a smart ass arent ya? Who owns your hide A" he waits a moment before going to the back and returning with rags of water and ointments and bandages for him. He then looks at how tiny A is and sighs " how old are ye boy?" he looks him over, he'd probably remove the collar. The boy amused him greatly. Angry and smart, he would be capable once he was healed
 
A pondered over Van's question. A didn't even know how old he was. Granted he knew when his birthday way, but he was unsure as to how many of them he had. He supposed he could be around ten to thirteen or maybe older.

"I don't know how old I am sir. I've had this collar for a few years and I've been passed around a bit. If my theory is correct, you own me," A concluded.

A really didn't like the idea of being owned, but of course there was no helping the fact that he was troublesome and homeless. The streets just happened to work this way and he had adjusted to it. There was no mistaking it. However, it was possible one might find it disappointing or sad even, that A had lived by himself for so long that he didn't even know his own age.
 
He nids listening stripping the boys shirt from him. He looks over the bruises and frowns running a hand over his obvious ribs. " Well you need some meat on your bones or you will just not be very useful at all now will you" He washes the wounds and wraps then slowly and ccarefully. He then tips A's head up examining the collar and then grunts in thought before handing him a bowl of food.

" Well you are quite the little squirt aren't you"
 
A's ribs appear to have been broken once before and then mended rather oddly. It was impossible to notice unless A for some reason took a deep breath. There was a fresh wound on his right side and the blood shown brightly. He cringed when the clothes were removed from him and the blood smeared about his body. A was a scrawny kid and from the looks of it, A had not had a proper meal in some time. He was a sickly thin and was most likely suffering from malnutrition.

"I suppose. Wouldn't it be odd though, if I was the perfect size for my age? That would make your conclusion invalid unless you're putting me in comparison to you then by all means I'm quite the little squirt." A looked down at the bowl placed in front of him, "Do you have pets? Am I supposed to feed them with this?"

A was seriously asking. That was the most common expectation whenever A was handed food. He was not expecting to eat anything for a few days. He looked up at Van and tried not to think about when the last time he ate was. A reckoned that it had probably been about two and a half days.
 
He listens t the boy quip and merely smiles, when he asks if he is supposed to feed an animal the food he has been given Van shakes his head, " no. That is for you. I expect you to eat at least one meal a day from now on lad. I don't want you dying on me" he pulls the large shirt over A's head and ties the pants around his waist, he looked entirely eaten by the new clothing but what other option did he have?
 
A's jaw nearly dropped, "A meal? You mean I get to eat food every day?"

He was about to ask whether or not he was being tricked. A looked at the bowl of food. A potato and some other vegetables. It wasn't a luxurious meal, but to someone who hadn't eaten in some time, it was a very luxurious meal. A devoured the meal and then bowed to the man before him.

"Thank you... it was great..." A said softly. He was really unsure. He was wondering if things would start out great and then spiral downhill from there.

(For the record: A is British Japanese)
 
He watches the boy eat and then pats his head softly and smiles as he bows, " you're welcome. You gonna be able to walk? I gotta get home to the wife and I got a lass not much older then you." he was a kind man... His wife and other workers... Were not
 
"I can walk... slowly," A replied. He followed the man as best he could and tried to stumble or look like he'd been nearly been beaten half to death. A hadn't the slightest idea of where he was supposed to be going, but he figured that it would be a place he could sleep for a while. He was not all too interested in the girl at this point in time. He was more concerned about getting to a bed and sleeping so that he could rest his injured body. He wasn't exactly able to work just yet, but he predicted that he would be able to soon.
 
He lets the boy trot after him and shows him to a small closet with a cot in it, " sorry it ain't much. I will wake you for breakfast lad" he leaves him there and smiles seeing his wife, she sees the boy and arches a brow but goes with her husband to their room, her hips swaying. She was clearly not going to let the subject die. And her eye was already on the young boy
 
A did not waste time in falling soundly asleep. The stress of today had finally caught up with him. This was the first time he had slept on anything softer than solid ground. If anything A was liking the feel of a cot. He was even warm, though he still shivered in the middle of the night his body obviously still cold. Rather early in the morning one of A's wounds opened up and he tried to hide it with a towel he carried around in his pocket. He didn't want his master to see that he was still unfit to work after a night's rest. In fact, A didn't even have any other clothes besides the ones on his back.
 
He comes down the stairs and smiles seeing him, " cmere lad let us have a look at you," he will have him strip and he will frown seeing the injuries. " We will stitch this." He will sew the wound shut and dress it thn look him over, " in the kitchen the other workers are eating, go and eat. Then you are gonna fan the fires today. Until you are stronger to do the lifting"
 
"Sir, I hate to be more of a bother than I'm already proving to be, but do you mind pointing me in the direction of your kitchen?" A asked politely. His collar still around his neck.

A's clothes looked rather dirty and he wasn't sure if the other workers would take to kindly to his appearance. He was also certain that the stitches would most likely receive some type of teasing. A wasn't an idiot. He was far from it, but people aren't always kind to the weak when work is involved. If it wasn't for the fact that it would be even more humiliating to struggle with some lifting, he would have asked to do it. He would have to deal with fanning the fires until he was well enough to do something else. Everything would be so much easier if he just knew how old he was.