Jack Dawkins | The Artful Dodger

Art Class [closed to morevacant + gothish]

Sun, 19 Apr 2020 19:41:54 GMT

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Carrying the Banner [closed to: brooklyn is here]

Sat, 11 Apr 2020 17:49:45 GMT

A lot had changed for the Artful Dodger over the past few months. The main change being that he no longer haunted the streets of good old London town. Thanks to a little 'mix up' at the docks, instead of being transported to Australia, he ended up on a ship headed right for North America, and found himself making port in New York.

Big place, but the Dodger was good at big places.

He had found himself needing some spangle in his pocket pretty fast. He had spotted kids on the corner of streets selling papers. Not exactly his preferred line of enterprise, but he ain't exactly had the time to scope out the city yet. Peddling papers would give him good chance to do it, and give a cover away from him if he did pick a pocket or two.

So he did lift a couple of things - a hat like the other paper peddlers wore, and a stack of papers to sell. Sold those, then lifted a couple more to sell.

This went on for a few days. A decent caper, if he was to admit it. Out nothing, but got a profit. No reason to stop it either. The Dodger had found something that could just work for him.

For now, anyway.

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Underground Application

Thu, 25 Aug 2016 18:31:43 GMT

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Dear Mun Post 001

Sun, 27 Mar 2016 13:53:45 GMT

A little pest who won't leave me alone

Pest? So that's what we're callin' it these days? Well, I never. Gent like me bein' called a pest, an' to think I was honourin' you with my good company. Not that there's much to be doin' round these parts. Ain't even sure what you got planned for me. I've got things to be doin', you know. Can't be hanging around here like I've got all the time in the world.

An' who's this bloke you keep going on about? Nothin' like him. Or Sikes. Me own man, that's me. The Artful Dodger. You, though, your call me Mister Dawkins, we ain't rightly knowin' each other yet. Anyway, why would I want to get involved in some ... bloomin' revolution. Every man for himself, an' Dodger first, that's how it goes.

Anyway, it's in France. Not going there, not on your life.

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