#the gutter runners

[derpinggm-blog]

Stand by your pals.

They were teasing him. One red haired with freckles and a nasty evil grin. The other with raven black hair, quiet and calculating. The black haired one was egging the redhead on, poking his ears, pulling his hair. It was made abundantly clear by most kids that he was different. Most kids shunned him, blue skin, pointy ears and white hair. Most kids had probably never seen someone of his kind. But these two wouldn't leave him alone. He didn't need to be able to understand them to know their intentions were less than honourable. They were twice his size and picking a fight. But then something happened, when he let out a pained yelp as the redhead tugged on his ear. A little akward boy stepped in between them. Hardly half their size and age. His chestnut brown hair pulled into a small ponytail, which ended just on his shoulders, strands of hair falling loosely in his face. His eyes were set with intense determination, his small hands clenched into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. The boy was lanky, hardly the age of six and the woolen shirt he was wearing a size or two to big, leaving a boney shoulder exposed as he stood there trying to look tall and protective. He was protecting him. The bully raised his voice, yelling at the smaller human who didn't say a word in return, which aggravated the other even more. The redhead's punch caught him square on the chin. The black haired one followed up and punched him right on the nose. His little guardian was knocked flat on his ass, and a small trickle of blood ran from his nose to his upper lip. He wasn't all that good of a protector really, never landing a blow in return. He did however seemed to have bought enough time, as the large human woman who seemed to be in charge came rushing over, and ended up dragging the bullies away by their ears. How ironic. His eyes met the warm brown ones of his little protector, and he couldn't help but to take his sleeve and wipe away the trickle of blood from the boy's nose before it hit that smile, he always seemed to smile, his only human friend.

[derpinggm-blog]

Goodbye dear Elsie.

It was dark and the city streets were empty, the rain had washed everyone inside. Not even the rats were out in this kind of weather, Light not even the dead would be out in this weather if they could avoid it. But then why was he? Murky water pooled in a puddle on dirty cobbles had seeped inside the worn and weathered leather that were his boots, chilling the bare feet within. The rain kept beating down on his cloak and had soaked completely through, through his warm sweater and down onto his skin, chilling him to the bones. As if he had just emerged from the canals his hair stuck to his face like a soaked cardboard picture frame. The rain and cold camouflaged his tears and sobbing, replacing them with the look of a simple youth kneeling down in the mud out in ungodly weather shivering from the cold. His eyes were set on a small ragged piece of stone at the head of a freshly dug grave. He couldn't help but to think of the lifeless body he had put in the ground his afternoon, he could only imagine how cold and wet it was down there now, how much she would shiver would she still be alive. Death had become an integral part of his being, he had lost patients and friends in the past. But he was unsure why this had gripped his heart and shattered it into a million tiny pieces. Perhaps it were the faces of her friends, dirt stricken and trying hard to be tough for each other when they came to get them that afternoon in the Cathedral. Perhaps it had been his Brother's farewell speech, and maybe just maybe it was a feeling that in a different future she would have flourished, and it could have been him down there in the cold.  Perhaps this was simply his time to break down and cry for all those he had lost before, the drop that made the cup run over. He never noticed the heavy armoured footsteps sogging through the mud behind him nor the gentle sandalwood scent that accompanied his Brother Shieldsman. The only thing he felt was the heavy arm wrapping around him, and right there and then he stopped being a Shieldsman, he stopped being an Errant, a teacher and a scholar. He was quite simply Holden, a boy shattered by grief for someone he never really got to know and he cried, he cried his eyes out against the familiar surcoat of the older man at his side, he cried on the way to the Cathedral and it was only when he was stripped of his wet clothes and wrapped in a blanket with a cup of tea that he ran out of tears.

[hatted-squirrel-blog]

Sketchy Squirrel from like.. 4 years back? When she was 18.

[derpinggm-blog]

Sass with class.

Behind them a thrush was knocking, cracking a snail against a pile of stones which at one point in time would have probably been used to rebuild the house in front of it which burned down two years ago. Painfully obvious from the charred husk was that that never happened. Summer had passed and while it was still warm enough when out in the sun autumn was around the corner, the wind was picking up from the sea carrying cold air with it. The young doctor's fingers were busy rubbing salve onto a particularly scaley patch on an arm to thin for the person attached to it. The person that flinched accompanied by a hiss through their teeth as the green ointment was applied. "I suppose you are not going to tell me who did this to you hmm?" The young doctor's voice was reassuring, gentle. And he sounded much like a man who basically already knew the answer to anything he was going to ask. He knew because he'd been there, and the lopsided smile on the gaunt face said enough. "Hmpf" Exactly the answer he had expected. "Well it won't kill you, but you're sure to be sore for a few days with this. Judging from the marks it looks like you got your arm stuck on something rough, rope or reins of sorts hmm? Perhaps a rough glove, a watchman's glove?" "Howcome you always know huh?" She piped up, narrowing her eyes at the doctor who still couldn't help but to smile silently while he retrieved some bandages from his bag. "Because you have a penchant for getting into trouble." "Wha's that?" "What's what?" "A penchant." "It means you have a habit of getting into trouble, some might say you actually like it." "Proper don't" she mumbled and looked down when met with the doctor's raised eyebrow. "They's just always after us, don't let up nothing. Unfair is what it is." "YOU THERE! THIEF! STAND FAST!" A familair voice belonging to a particularly plump and mustached face boomed in the distance. The two seated there exchanged a quick glance. The uniformed form of the watchman coming in their direction at the pace of a wobbling sprint across the cobbles. With significant effort the doctor pushed himself up, leaning on his cane to keep the weight off his left leg as much as possible. Giving the dirty redheaded urchin a quick ruffle of grotty hair. "Go on, make yourself scarce, I'll handle him." She didn't need telling twice, feet were already in motion the little malnourished form ducking into the next best alleyway. The doctor all the while putting himself in a strategic position, right in the way of the plodding watchman that with his current speed was entirely unable to stop in time before running into the doctor, promptly tumbling onto the cobbles. "Blasted bombshells!" A string of profanities flapped from under the mustache as the man tried to push himself up. Flailing in the general direction the urchin sped off in as he dusted himself off. "Ah apologies constable, help a fellow up will you" By now the watchman was steaming, only holding out his hand because the social norm dictated the doctor was to be treated with a modicum of respect. And by now a few people who at first paid them no heed had stopped to watch the scene with mild interest. "Thank you kindly constable." The young doctor smiled, almost smirked. "Looks like your little criminal got away, terribly sorry about that my man." With a heavy breath and beads of sweat in his mustache. The smell of cheese and wine palpable as the watchman leaned in to grumble "They'll hang you for this one day doctor, mark my words, I'll see you hung." "You know constable" A thin hand gently resting on the meaty shoulder. "You should know better than to threaten the man who is supposed to tend to you when you are most vulnerable." He gave the shoulder a gentle squeeze. "And a great day to you constable, keep the streets safe hmm."