{M} SCUTTLERS - {IC}

[BumblingBee]

SCUTTLERS

https://youtu.be/KGD2N5hJ2e0

'Past the square, past the bridge,
past the mills, past the stacks
On a gathering storm comes
a tall handsome man
in a dusty black coat with
a red right hand

He'll wrap you in his arms,
tell you that you've been a good boy
He'll rekindle all the dreams
it took you a lifetime to destroy
He'll reach deep into the hole,
heal your shrinking soul,
but there won't be a single thing
that you can do'

---

Filthy children ran up the street, practically shrieking to their mothers. At first their warnings were ignored, seen as no more than a childs imaginative dreamings. However a silence seemed to ripple through the street at a sudden rate. The cobbles were still as the steady clack of hooves rung through the air.

All life suddenly dissapeared back into the holes from which they had emerged. Curtains were drawn and heads ducked, in fear or respect? The matter was never often discussed, instead simply accepted.

The proudest grey stallion you'd ever seen was striding down the road, with a contrastingly laid back rider upon its saddle. These looks and fearful glances were of no concern to him. They were in fact normal if anything.

As the two began to reach the end of the industrial road, voices once again dared to make themselves audible. Though they were mostly from a difference.

"Did you see his new 'orse?!"

"It's bloody huge.."

"That one's sure to win"

Johnny smiled to himself from beneath his cap. With the smallest slightest of movements, he turned his head over his shoulder slightly. This simple gesture still managed to silence an entire street once more. With no particular emotion, Johnny simple called out
"His name's Shellby, you know where to make you're bets"

And they did.
Holland Street.

[DizzyMaelstrom!]

All around, there was talk, laughter, work, and the usual business of a street. Off to the side stood a youth whom no one paid any extra special attention to, holding something in his hands, doing something with it or other. He was pretty much ignored by everyone, which was fine because he was ignoring everyone just the same. On occasion, he'd glance up from where he was to see people who's just placed bets come lumbering out of a building, some looking awful confident, others looking like they were on their last string. It was pretty easy to see who really needed the money and who joined in just because. Harper wasn't sure how many of them knew that the competition was rigged, but it wasn't like it mattered anyway. It didn't hurt him whether they knew or not.

Losing interest in their antics, he went back to staring down at the thing in his hands, which just so happened to be a pocket knife that he was using to carve up a piece of wood. Sometimes he'd catch the eye of a person giving him a sideways glance if they happened to realize what he was holding, but since his actions were harmless, it never lasted longer than a second. He really had no business being there. He wasn't planning on placing any bets since he didn't need the money, and he hadn't been called on to do anything special for the gang. In truth, he didn't really have a reason. This was a place full of friends who possibly weren't really friends and ruled over by people who wouldn't hesitate to off you if you so much as breathed the wrong way. Still, there was a strange sense of safety mixed with all the hazard that brought a comfortable discomfort to him whenever he went there. It wasn't the most ideal feeling, but he was used to it. His home was empty right now. There wasn't anyplace else to go.

[Dire Hoef]

‘What are ya doing here man? Don’t you see that you don’t have any money worth spending!?’

‘I know that… Why do you think I care about the situation any way you twat!’

‘Well excuse me for not being subtle enough for you to get the memo!’

‘Oh shut up… I don’t even know why I talk to you…’

‘You don’t really!! I’m honestly just the voice in your head that’s telling you what’s right and what’s wrong… But then again… I always do love being the devil’s advocate here…’

‘Do not get any bright ideas… I swear if you make me do something I’ll regret for the rest of my life… I’ll put a dent in ya…’

‘Oh come on now… Don’t be such a stich… I was only joking…’

‘Let’s hope…’

Sebastian Russell; a cleverly placed fellow. He had been here since the kids and other children formed within the streets. Sebastian sighed as he leaned against the steps of a familiar neighbor who seemed preoccupied with the stuff going around her house rather than the stuff that is taking place on the streets. His eyes stood in motionless agony as he listened to a kid whom he recognized before, but couldn’t put a name on it. Sebastian kept his roll as he stood to his feet glancing towards the two guys carefully before moving towards another are of the street. All was still. Sebastian hunkered down towards the nearest crevice in the crowd of kids that crowded that single area and with this Sebastian found peace in and of himself as he stared on in silence.

[BumblingBee]

Johnny continued to ride the horse through Salfords murky depths. Things were busier by the workhouses, busy enough that people didn't move for him, but all bowed their heads or tipped their caps. Johnny was a constant in the ever changing flood of activity that rushed around him. Eyes forward, never doubtful, always clear, in thought and feeling.

A Preacher paced the corner, shouting words of the gospel.
He tipped his hat.
Drunkards and workers hung like the plague around the factories.
They tipped their hats.
"Mr Murray.."

A cripple limped down the side-street as Johnny passed.
Two farthings and a shilling were given.
The crippled tipped his hat.

Two Bobbies were making their rounds as he passed the filth of a pub that was 'The Bakers'.
They tipped their caps.
"Morning Mr. Murray.."

"He's a God
He's a Man
He's a Guru"

He looked about for no particular reason. A reassuring pat was given to the steed.
"Last stretch now lad"

He paced the creature down following the ship canal. They reached the Murrays stables swiftly, it was better by the water. It wasn't exactly quieter per say, hell a workhouse lay less than a dozen or so metres away, but it wasn't quite as noisy as something more central.

He left the horse with the stablehands, one dumb the other old. It was a short walk to Holland Street from there, and Johnny had long legs. He was there within ten minutes or so.

It seemed as soon as he turned the bloody corner the usual gaggle spotted him. They nodded in greeting and began to make their way over as they all headed to number seven.

Johnny lit a cigarette.

[Rambunk]

Aaron silently walked down Holland Street. His pace was slow but not too lingering. He hand wandered the street before, but he was still a stranger to this area and long time locals occasionally took notice of him. He the knew the dangers of being a stranger in foreign areas, and that one wrong look would inevitably get him killed. However, attention was what he was looking for. He roamed the streets in an attempt to grab the attention of the local gang the "Scuttlers", figuring he could find some way in. The task was proving difficult, unfortunately, as joining would not be as simple as walking up and asking, and identifying members capable of recruiting is not easy. Being a stranger, to ask questions on locations of someone would be suicide as well, word would quickly get around that someone had been snooping and that would not be tolerated. Having come to the end of the street, he turned on to another street, meandering around knowing that the person he was looking for was somewhere in Salford. Then, by no small chance, Aaron spotted a man on a large horse. The rider was unmistakably Johnny Murray, leader of the Holland Street Scuttlers.

To attempt to randomly engage Murray would be very dangerous, and for Aaron to pretend that he did not know who Murray was upon approaching him would be foolish. Still, Aaron saw no other way to join the gang as he had no connections, and he was in a bind for cash. It was difficult to keep pace with a man on a horse, especially one with such long and powerful strides, but Aaron was able to keep up as the crowd slightly hindered the massive horses movement more than it could a man of Aaron's slight stature and quick movement. Aaron kept pace down to the docks until the crowd began to thin and Johnny picked up speed with his horse and soon got to the stables.

Aaron simply stood back a ways and watched as Johnny handed his horse of to the stables for safe keeping and headed towards Holland Street. Aaron kept his distance, waiting to catch up with Johnny at the right moment. His heart was thumping, this was not the first time he had followed someone nor was this the first time he had been risking his life, but what he was attempting was truly life or death with every move. As he saw Johnny turn the corner then stop and light a cigarette, Aaron made his move. He walked forward until he was roughly fifteen paces away then pulled out a cigarette of his own. As he walked slightly passed Johnny, he pulled out a small packet of matches and pretended to fumble and drop them as he was bumped by a random passer by. They fell into a small puddle, rendering them useless.

"Aw fuckin 'ell!" Aaron exclaimed. Then, taking a breath he looked around and pretended to just notice Johnny with his lit cigarette. "Sorry to bother you mate, but think I can get a light?"

[BumblingBee]

Johnny stopped in his paces as a flurry of matches were strewn half across him and the floor. He took a step back, a look of distaste suddenly plastered across his face. His hands raised slightly, not in surprise of course, since the war not much surprised a man these days. But more as a reflex, they retreated.

Johnny looked to the man in a sort of confident confoundment. Without a word, his hands responded is a series of fluid movements, reaching into his pocket to reveal an elegant silver lighter. He offered it to the man wordlessly. The lighter had the initials JM carved in a rough rugged hand.

[Rambunk]

Aaron carefully grabbed the lighter, mulling over his words carefully. He flicked the lighter and lit his cigarette. Taking a puff, he briefly admired Johnny's lighter and noticing the inscription "JM," he took this as his chance. In a tone of disbelief and shock Aaron addressed the man he hoped would hire him.

"You're Johnny Murray? Pardon the matches I dropped on you I meant no harm."

His address was awkward and he went briefly silent before moving into his pitch.

"I was actually hoping to meet you," Aaron avoided the phrase "looking for you" as that usually carries with it a negative undertone. "I'm looking for work and I had heard you'd be hiring just about anyone as long as they can beat the shit out of something, few things I'm better at than that."

[BumblingBee]

Johnny took the lighter and tucked the tool back into his pocket with a wide grin stuck on his face. He allowed a small humming chuckle to emit from him as he ducked his head slightly. He tapped to ash off his cigarette.
"Jesuz. You sods get bolder by the day"

Then he walked on. He didn't exactly say the lad could follow him if he so wished. But he wasn't exactly denying it either. The Murray walked through the side door to number seven to an instant unanimous greeting of "Morning Johnny" he replied heartily "Morning Lads"

Swift bold strides took him to a small side room, large glass windows hiding nothing, allowing an open view of his office to all. Like him. No charades. Johnny absent mindedly shuffled through papers here and there.

[Rambunk]

As Johnny walked away Aaron stood motionless for a brief second, unsure what to do. Not wanting to bother the man but also realizing that he had not been told no, Aaron briskly followed the same path and entered number seven through the side door. Upon entering Aaron looked around aimlessly, unsure of what to do or say. He was quick to move to the side of the door and keep out of the way, continuously scanning the room and noting Johnny in is office at the back. He made no move until he received an order. He tried to look like he belonged there but clearly he had no idea what was going on. Patiently he waited, hoping to get some kind of direction.

[Dire Hoef]

Johnny Murray... The name struck hard with Sebastian. He hadn't heard a name so strange, yet so inviting, in a long time. Nothing of this accord; nothing that he had been experienced as of late. As his mind wondered he couldn't help but overhear a few ol' chaps speaking about the man in a hushed tone. Sebastian intervened and stepped into the conversation only to be shoved out with rough anger. "Why don't ya step off," said one of the kids who pointed towards the other side of Holland Street, "You got better things to do than to eavesdrop!" Sebastian was unfamiliarly with the tone of voice, but it seemed all too real to him. "Well sorry for not saying anything," said Sebastian as he stepped closer towards the kid that pushed him away, "I just wanted to know more about Johnny Murray..." "Well you ain't getting a thing," said the kid as he shoved Sebastian, "Now get lost!" Sebastian lifted up his hands as he backed off, "Fine..." Sebastian jogged off towards the other side of the street towards where Johnny and some guy had walked into. Sebastian kept his distance from the area, but he could feel Johnny's presence here on Holland Street. Something worth pondering.