Fanfic 100 - 43, Square
Jan. 28th, 2006 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: Lunch at St. Dunstan's
Fandom: Sweeney Todd
Characters: Tobias, mentions of Pirelli, Todd, and Mrs. Lovett
Prompt: 043, Square
Word Count: 657
Rating: G
Summary: A day in the marketplace
Author's Notes: Not much to say about this one. It'd been too long since I wrote some Toby.
St. Dunstan’s was busy as always, filled with the bustle of Londoners buying their loaf of bread, their jug of milk. Servants and lower class women haggled with merchants over fresh produce, while gentlemen looked over stalls of books and walking canes and other accessories. Small, tattered-looking children and thin, wiry dogs ran in and out of everyone’s legs, the danger of tripping always imminent. Everyone mixed together, purchasing their various necessities (or, in some cases, stealing them), a kaleidoscope of activity and energy.
Toby sat on the roof of the wagon, eating an apple as he listened to the melodious cacophony of voices and carriages rumbling through the neighboring streets. He could see everything in the square, from up on his perch. And everyone could see him, which was why he had a large sign around his neck, advertising Pirelli’s Miracle Elixir, for those whose view of the wagon itself was blocked. It gave him an excuse to eat his meager lunch, though the apple was good. Nice and crisp.
He wondered if gargoyles felt the same way, up so high on those old, medieval buildings. Watching all the people hurrying about far below. Not that he was that high up – but he felt like he was. Like he was safe. And it was the time of day that was his. He was in no hurry, just for the moment. The gov’ner could never climb up here if he wanted to; not in the shape he was in at the moment. So lunch was Toby’s and Toby’s alone. He licked the sweet, sticky juice off his lips and fingers.
Sitting up here every day during city season, he got to know the patrons of St. Dunstan’s, at least by sight. There was the gang of young pickpockets who were better organized than an army regiment. There was the beautiful young woman who came with her maid every day to admire the parasols, and the love-struck youth who followed her from afar, steady as her shadow. There was the old man who came to the bookstall as regular as clockwork, nose buried in the newest acquisition. It was nice, finding patterns in the chaos. Seeing how things worked. It made you feel like there was some order in the universe.
Of course, he thought as he finished the apple and tossed the core down into the street, there are always new things to see. For example, today. They had just come into the square; a dangerous-looking man with a black box under his arm, and a frank-looking redheaded woman. They were coming towards the cart. He had seen the woman, occasionally, though not often, at market, but he was certain he had never seen the man before. He watched them as the talked, moving closer through the dense crowd. He wondered how long before they became familiar parts of his landscape too.
“Bambino. It esa time. Get down-a here, right-a away.” The accent was extra thick today. He was in a good mood, though he wouldn’t preserve it, if Toby wasn’t quick. He leapt down, nimbly, landing beside the table full of elixir. Slipping the sign off his neck and clearing his throat, he glanced around. Several of the nearby vendors smiled and shook their heads. The Italian and his enthusiastic salesmen were just as much a part of St. Dunstan’s as anything else, and the crowd began to gather, even as he began his pitch. But there were always new faces to direct his words to, and today was no different. Among them were the pair of newcomers he had seen, sitting above. The woman smiled at him, and his own smile widened, though he didn’t pause in his steady stream of words. Maybe they’d buy something – if he made a sale, the gov’ner might buy him a pint of good beer that night. This could be, if it went well, a very good day indeed.
Fandom: Sweeney Todd
Characters: Tobias, mentions of Pirelli, Todd, and Mrs. Lovett
Prompt: 043, Square
Word Count: 657
Rating: G
Summary: A day in the marketplace
Author's Notes: Not much to say about this one. It'd been too long since I wrote some Toby.
St. Dunstan’s was busy as always, filled with the bustle of Londoners buying their loaf of bread, their jug of milk. Servants and lower class women haggled with merchants over fresh produce, while gentlemen looked over stalls of books and walking canes and other accessories. Small, tattered-looking children and thin, wiry dogs ran in and out of everyone’s legs, the danger of tripping always imminent. Everyone mixed together, purchasing their various necessities (or, in some cases, stealing them), a kaleidoscope of activity and energy.
Toby sat on the roof of the wagon, eating an apple as he listened to the melodious cacophony of voices and carriages rumbling through the neighboring streets. He could see everything in the square, from up on his perch. And everyone could see him, which was why he had a large sign around his neck, advertising Pirelli’s Miracle Elixir, for those whose view of the wagon itself was blocked. It gave him an excuse to eat his meager lunch, though the apple was good. Nice and crisp.
He wondered if gargoyles felt the same way, up so high on those old, medieval buildings. Watching all the people hurrying about far below. Not that he was that high up – but he felt like he was. Like he was safe. And it was the time of day that was his. He was in no hurry, just for the moment. The gov’ner could never climb up here if he wanted to; not in the shape he was in at the moment. So lunch was Toby’s and Toby’s alone. He licked the sweet, sticky juice off his lips and fingers.
Sitting up here every day during city season, he got to know the patrons of St. Dunstan’s, at least by sight. There was the gang of young pickpockets who were better organized than an army regiment. There was the beautiful young woman who came with her maid every day to admire the parasols, and the love-struck youth who followed her from afar, steady as her shadow. There was the old man who came to the bookstall as regular as clockwork, nose buried in the newest acquisition. It was nice, finding patterns in the chaos. Seeing how things worked. It made you feel like there was some order in the universe.
Of course, he thought as he finished the apple and tossed the core down into the street, there are always new things to see. For example, today. They had just come into the square; a dangerous-looking man with a black box under his arm, and a frank-looking redheaded woman. They were coming towards the cart. He had seen the woman, occasionally, though not often, at market, but he was certain he had never seen the man before. He watched them as the talked, moving closer through the dense crowd. He wondered how long before they became familiar parts of his landscape too.
“Bambino. It esa time. Get down-a here, right-a away.” The accent was extra thick today. He was in a good mood, though he wouldn’t preserve it, if Toby wasn’t quick. He leapt down, nimbly, landing beside the table full of elixir. Slipping the sign off his neck and clearing his throat, he glanced around. Several of the nearby vendors smiled and shook their heads. The Italian and his enthusiastic salesmen were just as much a part of St. Dunstan’s as anything else, and the crowd began to gather, even as he began his pitch. But there were always new faces to direct his words to, and today was no different. Among them were the pair of newcomers he had seen, sitting above. The woman smiled at him, and his own smile widened, though he didn’t pause in his steady stream of words. Maybe they’d buy something – if he made a sale, the gov’ner might buy him a pint of good beer that night. This could be, if it went well, a very good day indeed.
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Date: 2006-01-28 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-28 11:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-28 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-28 11:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-29 02:59 am (UTC)I love how you created 19th century London here, for a musical (especially a plot-oriented one like Sweeney) never really gets a chance to fully develop the setting. The underlying dramatic irony is awesome; we know exactly how this day is going to go, and it changes Toby's life.
I'm kind of worried about a movie too. I feel it's kind of hit or miss. They can do a splendid job if they find the perfect cast and director, but if they don't, it could fall flat and be mediocre. Sweeney doesn't deserve a mediocre film.
Great stuff!
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Date: 2006-01-29 09:17 am (UTC)Wow. Sorry about that. Thanks for the review!
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Date: 2006-01-31 08:24 am (UTC)This fic made my over-all good day even better, which is really nice considering the funk I've been in lately. It's a little scary that Sweeney fic cheers me up...but then again, it's Toby and you write him so wonderfully. Excellent as always.
And forgive the vague incoherency.
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Date: 2006-01-31 09:49 am (UTC)Glad to help cheer you! Incoherency is always fine - it happens.
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Date: 2006-01-31 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 04:14 pm (UTC)