(Crew) Mickey "the Kid"

street urchin turned deck hand


I ain’t a rat, no matter what that lying snake Billy says. He’s jus’ jealous cause no human kid’s ever gonna lift some coin quicker than me. A kid has to feed hisself, ain’t he? No one is volunteerin none for the job. I didn’t take nothing from a body who couldna afford it. Listen, here’s my game when the gut starts gnawing on itself or when me shoes start to pinch. I close my eyes down in the busy parts where the richies spend their coin. The haberdashery is the best. Ain’t no poor folk spendin hard earned coin on no floppy cap. I tuck in, quiet as a ghost and listen hard. There’s always at least one bawdy basterd, scuz me language, talking but not sayin nothin. He’s the one with his nose t’ the air and pockets jingling with coppers. Change, he won’t miss it none, nobody’s the wiser and my belly gets a little grub. Ain’t nobody catch ol’ Mick.
Till now anyway. See, week ‘fore last I slipped up bad. One feller, he talked the bawdy talk like everyone else, asstractin’ the lords ‘n ladies round him real good with some tall tale. So, quick like a fish inna docks I dart in, and lift a small clinky purse offa fine lady. I ne’r even got a chance to see what the purse held. The lady shrieked and suddenly the group in all of its flippery and finery was scattered. I bolted, sure that I were goin to have the bobbies on my tail any second. I huffed and puffed my way down the docks as the whistles callin for the police rang out. Then, out of the corner of my little eye I sees those night sky blue uniforms comin my way and I’m up the gangplank of the nearest boat. That’s where they found me.
Turns out, they knew I was comin’ on account of their watch gnome. Some of them had been in the group of lace and finery when I pinched the purse. He were watchin’ me afore I even got close . Korrash, I found out later. He caught me. Then he spoke up for me. “Kid’s pretty good. Moved fast, smart. Not a bad extra pair of hands.” Then he turned and walked away. My heart was pounding in my chest like a bird beating his wings ‘gainst a cage, I thought it might break out and fly away. Then the lady, May, she leaned in and brought her face close t’ my face. Her breath smelt like peppermint when she said, “One chance, child. You will earn your keep and follow our rules or you will be turned over to the proper authorities. I will take the purse.” Her eyes warned me not to argue. I held t’ purse out and she took it up, removing something larger then a coin. She looked relieved, then she looked at me. “Collect your things, child. We depart before the next change in tide. When you return, see Zane and he will put you to work.” She tossed the remaining coins back to me.

And that’s how Mickey joined the Storm Chasers.

(Crew) Mickey "the Kid"

Eberron Takinator TaliaSun