Bread.

Luke liked bread, bread was a good thing. Bread smelled nice, and tasted good, and could even be made into sandwiches. Sandwiches, the food so simple even Luke could make them. Irene'd throw a fit if she knew he was shopping at a competing bakery. He imagined her face, getting all stony and hard with that particular glint of the disapproving she was so good at. She'd cross her arms and pretend like she didn't care.

So he wouldn't tell her, and honest he didn't even like this one better. Irene's bakery was so far from his tenement room, though, and he wasn't up for the walk. Exercise could probably do him some good, he reflected grimly, thinking about his last trip to Irene's so she could fit him for new pants. He was always letting her handle things like that, like they were still kids. One day he'd stop making her take care of everything. He just wasn't sure when.

Luke pondered the merchandise beneath the glass. Bread, bread, so many types of bread and so little coin to pay for it with. Perhaps he should have gone to Irene's after all-- could have gotten something for free, probably. He sighed, and the sound was piteous.

Imogen had been making her way home from Kingsway market when her stomach shrivelled up on itself and she was reminded that she hadn’t eaten a thing since yesterday morning. A little way along, she spotted a bakery and filled with relief because of the pocketful of tallies she now had, she strode inside.

Pulling her shawl back up around her shoulders, she took in the sight of all the bread arranged temptingly in the front counter. The divine smell of fresh bread filled the shop and Imogen placed a hand on her stomach as it gurgled with anticipation.

She reached into her pocket and dropped a tally on the counter, then she was about to point to big round sour dough bun, when she noticed there was another customer. She looked over to see a man standing there and heard him sigh heavily. Picking up her money, Imogen stepped back a little. “Sorry...I got ahead of myself.”

She smiled at the man apologetically and then noticed that her hands were shaking as she put her money away. Whether it was because of her work or the hunger, she didn’t know, but she hated it; it made her look old. Imogen glanced at the man beside her, discreetly at first and then just watched him as she waited for her turn.

Maria had been mysteriously missing for some time, but her paychecks kept showing up in the mail, so it wasn't much of a problem. Still, he needed something to fill his days. One couldn't just sit at home and mope all the time. Thus, he'd been taking on various freelance delivery jobs again, like the old days. He had picked up a job today delivering a sack of flour to this bakery. He was sorry it wasn't Matthew's bakery, but in the time he'd been working exclusively, they'd gotten someone else to do their deliveries. Matthew was a nice guy, ran a good establishment, and he knew his family pretty well. He went in the back delivery entrance, and set down the huge cloth sack next to the almost-empty one next to the oven, waved to the owner, and was about to let himself back out when he realized he was very, very hungry. He walked out into the front, lifting up the section of the counter, and went to stand in line to buy some sort of bun. Before that, though, he saw Luke. He knew this guy, didn't he? Probably. Ohhh, yes.
"Hey, you're Matthew's brother-in-law, right? Thought I knew you from somewhere. Correct me if I'm wrong."

Luke looked up when he heard the money click on the counter. Another customer, setting her money on the counter all ready to go, and here Luke was taking up all the space gawping like an idiot. With an embarassed grin and a laugh, Luke shuffled aside. "No worries miss--"

The voice caught him a little off-guard, seeing as how it was most as like directed towards himself. Luke blinked for a moment, collecting himself. He thought he recognized the tall, dark-haired man who'd just come 'round from the back, but he couldn't be sure. He'd remember a face like that, wouldn't he? One could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, click-click-click, as he struggled to place the face.

"Aye, I surely am!" He couldn't quite remember-- friend of Matthew's, maybe? They might have met over at Irene's house once before, but Luke didn't think so. Maybe it was one of them "I seen you somewhere" sorts of situations. Luke got into those a lot, what with him having such a terrible memory for faces. It like as drove Irene to madness, having to introduce him to the same people so many times. He always like them though, so what was the harm?

"Ye can go ahead 'n pay, if'n ye like," Luke added with a smile to the woman at the counter. He couldn't rightly figure on why she kept an eye on him, but he smiled just the same.

Alexander had been outside of the bakery, casing the place. The promise he made to himself seemed like a distant dream. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, but he was about to do it. That he had resolved. Of course he did feel a bit bad, he didn't want to hurt anybody, but he was through with idealism. You can't eat dreams after all. He sighed at the thought of being able to eat dreams, he imagined they would be delicious. He watched the people who went in, and decided to follow the dark headed woman until he could steal her goods. He grasped the small knife in his knapsack. He could taste the food already. He began to wait trying to look inconspicous. Now, it was only a matter of time.

Imogen nodded her thanks and stepped forward again. She pointed to the large sour dough bun she had been eyeing earlier and licked her lips as the baker wrapped it in paper for her. She paid and took the bread, all the while keeping an ear on the conversation going on behind her.

She stood to one side and tore a hole in the paper, and then ripped a small piece of bread off to eat. Her stomach gurgled again, this time in appreciation as Imogen swallowed a chunk of the fresh warm bun. She looked around absently, pretending to be interested in what was on the shelves beside her, while still keeping a mildly curious eye on the two men who were talking.

After a moment or two the baker gave her an odd look, so Imogen turned to leave, walking out of the door and passing a small blonde man who must have appeared while she was ‘browsing’. She didn’t go far, stopping just outside to lean on the large front window and eat a little more.

Alexander watched as Imogen nibbled on her bread. His mouth watered with anticipation of the feast he would get. He abandoned his fformer plan of following her completly, he wanted that bread NOW and he would have it! Alexander was not skilled in the art of mugging people, so he was rather unsure of what to do first but he figured the most logical thing to do would be to establish who has a weapon, and as far as he could tell, it was him. He crept up with his knife in hand slowly holding it out in front of him, and praying she did not notice the reflection in the window.

"I think I've seen you around a few times. I've done some deliveries for his bakery. They didn't have a job up this time or I'd be there instead of here." He turned around to look out the shop's glass window and saw two things--one, the dark-haired woman who'd bought a bun lounging on the glass, and some scrawny little blond thing with a knife going up to her, in broad daylight. Clearly this kid was a bit slow.

"Excuse me for a moment."

He walked out the door and calmly picked the probably quite thick streetrat up by his collar.

"Please tell me someone accidentally let you out of the loony bin. You seriously trying to mug this lady in broad daylight?"

Luke paid little attention to the young woman as she exited the building. Not too much to notice there, after all, just a lady buying herself a sourdough. Luke wasn't too fond of sourdough himself, Irene's plum determined attempts to change his mind notwithstanding. He opened his mouth to reply to the stranger-who-wasn't, when he turned abruptly and left the shop after the young lady.

For a moment, Luke was confused. Maybe the girl had been his reason for being there, but the didn't seem to know each other none so he didn't think so. It wasn't until he looked out the window and saw him haul some slip of a boy up by his collar that Luke thought there just might be something more going on here. Never one to mind his own business, Luke followed immediately.

"What's all this then?" He was cheerful. Luke had yet to see the knife and didn't hear Eran speak as he came out the door. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be acting quite as friendly-like to the little thing but right now? Everyone was Luke Fletcher's friend, and he was happy to see them.

Imogen turned to see the blond man next to her and then stood up straight as a second or two later, one of the two men from inside appeared and grabbed the smaller man who had approached her.

Mug me? She thought not at first. He must have wanted to ask her something; for directions or maybe the time. Imogen was sure the black-haired accuser must be mistaken until she looked down and saw a knife pointing right at her.

Taking a step back, she clutched her bread tightly and shoved a hand in her pocket, checking everything was there. It was, thank Alioe. Imogen snapped her mouth shut, realising it had been hanging open and full of bread. She swallowed as her face reddened a little with anger and relief. There was silence for a moment, until the black-haired man's companion stepped outside too. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow at his words, then a reply came to her lips, maybe a little louder than she'd meant it to.

"This clocking tow-head was going to rob me!"

Alexander simply hung there thinking of what to do next and hoping the fabric on his shirt did not tear and thus make him fall to the ground. He did not want to be within stomping distanceof any of these people. Although he did have doubts about the second man who came out and his ability to stomp him. Just seemed too friendly. The man who picked him up however, he was sure could stomp him. Or bash his face in or crush his ribs or any number of other rather horrible things, and as far as Alexander was concerned, if they thought he was dumb then that would be better. Perhaps he could even pretend he was mute.Have a little pity perhaps and get him out of a beating. He would just have to remember to not open his mouth to speak. Now that would be the hard part. He pondered what to do next for a second and the woman turned around and apparantly realized what was going on because she said


He bit his lip as yet another insult was hurled. He decided the best thing to do would be to drop the knife, so that was exactly what he did. He silently hoped he could keep quiet and merely hung there, mainly disappointed. Perhaps he was not as smart as he believed himself to be. Common sense never was his specality.

"All right, kid, now seriously. What the hell were you even trying to accomplish here? Must've been pretty desperate for something."

He considered briefly letting the small perpetrator of this most dastardly, if ill-planned, crime down, but thought against it, for he'd surely run. Unless this kid really was an incredible idiot the likes of which having never before been seen on the face of the planet.

(( sfsr! sorry guys ))

Mugging? That little scrap of a kid? Luke couldn't believe it. It was broad daylight, on a busy street in front of a busy shop. This kid was either really desperate, really stupid or both. Probably bit of both, come to think on it. Luke couldn't think as there was anyone who looked that pathetic and weren't a bit desperate around the edges.

Still, it was good the bigger man was handling this. Luke didn't know if he could rightly say he wouldn't shake the little rat too hard. Maybe there was an alternate explanation here, Luke wasn't real sure. He hadn't seen the knife, after all, maybe there was some mistake?

"Maybe there's been some kinda mistake here?" He echoed out loud. "I ent never as seen a mugger quite so pathetic as this 'un."

Imogen watched as the deplorable would-be thief hung by his collar. She knew she would be a witness to or victim of this sort of crime sooner or later, her brother had warned her about that, but it made the experience no-less jarring. Especially when the mugger was such a slip of a young man.

She picked up the knife, holding it like it was some sort of temperamental animal. She hated the things. She had one herself, but only because her parents had insisted and it stayed in her room at the boarding house, stashed away in a drawer somewhere.

“A mistake? Oh well I suppose he was going to propose a swap then, my bread for his knife?” Imogen’s voice low and sarcastic as she looked around the street to see if anyone was watching. “Here.” She pushed the knife hilt-first at the man she’d just spoken to. “Take it.”

Imogen would have preferred to give it to the thief-catcher, but she’d just noticed that he only had one arm and that was occupied; still keeping a firm grip on the tow-head.