“Uh, I — I don’t know you, m - Miss!” Crutchie protests, looking up at her with wide eyes. For all the safety she projects, his street smarts don’t disappear that easily. “Miss Irry, I — I can’t afford any new clothes. Can you help me with that first?”

“Bye, Miss…!” Crutchie looks after her hopefully, wishing he could do something more to repay her. He hopes he’ll meet her again, and in a less dramatic situation.

// hi hiii :)

“Um — thank you, Miss,” Crutchie blushes, then glances down at his clothes. “These are the only clothes I can afford…”

“Oh,” Crutchie turns pink, slightly embarrassed at his own assumption. “My friend Jack loves cowboys — he wants to be one. What kinda music do you play? Are you goin’ to the Bowery to be a vaudeville star?”

“Oh, uh, sure, I mean I don’t live in this alley, Miss. I usually sell papes all around Manhattan, so I move around a lot…” Crutchie smiles a little, trying to look encouraging, but he thinks this lady is definitely hiding something. Maybe she’s not as rich as he thinks she is? But why would she +

“I could walk ya back to your home if you’d like!” Crutchie says eagerly. “If you got a few extra coins, that is,” he adds, ever the shrewd businessman. “You don’t wanna hang around an alleyway like this, miss, really.”

“Umm, no I’m pretty sure they’se just lookin’ at you ‘cause you’re real pretty — TALL. Because you’re tall.” Crutchie blushes immediately, reaching up to fix his hat like that will save him from his embarrassment. “Uh. A Greek goddess name is pretty nice though.”

“Right….” Crutchie slowly retracts his hand, wiping away the spit. He forgot ladies of a certain class don’t really like that kind of thing. He quirks a brow. “Nyx… like knickers?”

His eyes widen as he takes a look at the pin, which is probably way more expensive than anything else he’ll ever own. Crutchie smiles faintly, and taps it gently. “Thank you, Miss. I appreciate it more than I could ever say.”

“Oh! I’m Crutchie,” Crutchie sniffs, and smiles up at her. He spits in his hand and extends it to her, as cheerfully as he can after the fight. “Crutchie Morris, Miss Nyx. Thank you for walkin’ by.”

“Jack says that too. Does it really have green fields everywhere? And you get Sunday off?”

“I know,” Crutchie wilts slightly. “And — and it’s not like I don’t fight back or nothin’! Or — or my friends do. But sometimes they corner me, and they’se bigger than me too! I… don’t feel like there’s much I can do sometimes.”

“Hmmmm. I just thought Jack made it all up.”

“Pffft. That’s not real, you read that in the papes.”

“Anyone know where Santa Fe is? … anyone?”

“Pretty cool instrument, sir.” … “Are you a cowboy?”

“See The World don’t know! But they’re gonna pay!”

@impulsivespeedster.bsky.social “Soooo you can’t even tell me if we win the strike??”

// like for a starter !

“W - well…” Crutchie trails off, furrowing his brows slightly. He sighs, rubbing his nose. “They kinda, uh, just take any chance to bully me that they can get. They work at the Distribution Center and think they’se better than me.”

“Miss Inrin,” he replies politely, and delivers a sweeping bow with a smile. “Hm. I… think we should go to the one on 64th Street. My friend Racer goes there a lot with things he finds at the Sheepshead Races and such — he trusts ‘em lots. That won’t be too far for you, Miss?”

Crutchie clams up at that with a flinch. “You — you do?! How?”

Crutchie oohs and aahs along with the rest of the crowd, and when Elmer and Racetrack get peanuts he doesn’t even mind getting into the spirit of things. He lets his gaze float out over the crowd, catching sight of that same hawker as he descends into the crowd. Crutchie raises a brow, evaluating +

// like for a starter !

AHHHHH!

“You won’t be able to find me again!” He challenges. “You don’t know where I live!”

“A… scan? What do you mean?” To a boy from the past, the very idea is something strange.

// permanent starter call :)

// hiiiii :) like for a starter?

“I mean, everybody knows that…!”

His stomach growls right on time. “Yessir. But… do you know how I got here?”

“What if I don’t do what you say?” Crutchie asks, his gaze sharpening.

“I — I —“ The young man shrinks down slightly. “… I got lost and ended up here.”

Oh yeah? Big talk for a kid.

“What?!” Crutchie asks, stricken. “How am I supposed to find three people in a city of — of THOUSANDS?”

“Brightly colored… hoodies?” Crutchie frowns. “Um… but where are they?”

Crutchie frowns at him, squinting slightly. “… How am I supposed to find these folks?”

“I — I think so,” Crutchie smiles softly. “Thank you again, Miss. You don’t even know me, and you stepped in to help.”

Crutchie squints at it, frowning. “That’s it? Oh, phew. I thought you was gonna lock me up or somethin’.”

“Yes!!” Crutchie hands him a paper with the words ‘NEWSBOYS STRIKE’ scrawled over it, together with a time and date. He smiles, bouncing up and down. “Thank you, sir! Are you a reporter or somethin’? Or — do you work for something else?”

Crutchie takes the chance to scramble out from under the man’s grasp, standing next to the unfamiliar woman. “I — I am! So — so buzz off, Morris… Oscar. You — you wouldn’t try anythin’ around a lady!” The two men — younger than originally assumed — sneer but slowly walk away. Crutchie breathes +

His hope dies almost immediately. “I… I… what are you going to have me do?”

“Can I go now?” He dares to ask again, hoping futilely. “Pl — Please? Now that you’ve put those back?”

Crutchie follows him reluctantly, not seeing any other option. Or any other way out.

Crutchie turns at the unknown voice, startled. The two other young men he was protesting to leer out of the shadows, rubbing their hands together as they size up their prey. “Th - thank you, Miss,” Crutchie says, worry peeking through his voice. He doesn’t want anyone else to get dragged into his +

Crutchie smiles, encouraged as he pulls out a newspaper and presents it. The headlines today aren’t quite… great, but they’re still a little interesting.

What has he gotten himself into?! Crutchie nods fearfully, gripping his crutch tightly for extra security. He still doesn’t move.

Oh, it’s time. Time to put on the little orphan act. Crutchie sniffs, averting his gaze. “I… understand, sir,” he says brokenly. “You musta earned that too… it’s just… I dunno what I’m gonna eat tonight if I don’t make enough money…” Another sniff. Was he leaning on his crutch that hard before?

“But — but this is exactly that! My brother Jack made a speech the other day, askin’ every poor workin’ kid in the city to stand up for their rights. And that’s what we’s doin’, sir!” Crutchie puffs his chest up proudly. “Cuz it ain’t just about us! Kids is workin’ all over the city when they +