The Cry Of A Mockingbird •Dio Brando X Reader•

•One•

The time reads 12:24, on May 19 1883 in London, England.

Water dripped from the overhead drains, splattering on the broken brick alleyway. Children in rags rushed by clutching burnt pieces of bread to their chests, as round bakery owners yelled after them, only to fall behind them and turn around back to their shops. Shadows lurked around every corner, wisps of dirtied or gloved hands reaching into the pockets of others as they passed by, and then retreated to the darkness. This was a normal occurrence in the slums of London, England. This was how they made their living.

Inside of a tavern, just off to the side of the main road, sat a figure. Your feet were kicked up onto the table, your chair tilted back on two legs, with your hands folded behind your head. You wore a pair of thin leather boots, baggy brown pants, and a thin black corset top. A black cloak was draped around your shoulders, fastened around your neck by a single golden button. The silver chain of a necklace glinted on your skin, but the charm had been hidden from view. The hood of the cloak was pulled over your head, casting a shadow down on your face. With the dim lighting from the lanterns, the only part visible on your face was your lips.

The man in front of you slammed his hands down on the table, rattling the metal tankards resting on the wooden surface. You flicked your eyes to him, then to the coin purse he tossed on the table. Even though it was hidden, you raised an eyebrow at him, silently questioning his actions. He yanked the chair out and plopped himself in front of you with a dangerous glare.

"You cheated me," He spat. "That's only three-fourths of what you said."

You grinned. "I have fees, sir."

"Fees?" He exclaimed. "What kind of fees?!"

"I kept you alive didn't I?" You asked. "I walked you through very dangerous territory. It was only fair I got a cut as well."

"You thieving bitch!" He yelled.

A harsh hand landed on the man's shoulder. A tall ginger-haired boy stood behind him, gripping his shoulder tightly as he glared down at him with chocolate brown eyes. He forced the man back down in his seat.

"There's a reason their name is Vex, you know," The ginger stated. "They're quite the pester."

"He's a thief among thieves! A scoundrel!" The man hissed at you.

"It's in the title," You hummed, removing your feet from the table. You placed your hands on the table and pushed yourself up and out of your seat. You gently tucked the chair under the table before smiling at the man.

"I bid you a good day and an even better night. Thanks, Elijah." You said, waving a fingerless-gloved hand at him before turning away and walking from the tavern. As soon as you stepped outside, you were swarmed by three men. You glanced at each of them, taking note of the pipes they all held in their right hands.

Within the next few seconds, you had run straight past them, ducking through the gaps left by each man. You were small enough to slip by without a problem and darted into the shadows, where they lost sight of you almost instantly. You ran amongst the darkness, expertly weaving through the crowds of people on the street, ducking behind stalls, and taking shortcuts through alleys that the rich were terrified of. You arrived at a solid metal door, and after you made sure no one was following you, you slipped inside.

The smell of cinnamon rose in your nose; a scent that was so familiar to you by this point, you'd be concerned if the small tenement didn't smell like it. You walked inside and removed your hood, allowing your h/c hair to fall in its rightful place. Looking around, you figured no one must have been home. You reached for your necklace, pulling out an old brass pocket watch. You flipped it open and read the time. That's why you were alone--for the moment at least. It was the same time that the children were being released from school, and you could only guess the father was at work. You would use this time wisely.

Walking down the small hallway, you pushed the door open to the bathroom and locked it behind you. You emptied your pockets onto the sink and pulled the stool used for bathing up to the counter. You gathered each coin purse before dumping them and started counting the pounds you'd collected. You got to seventy before the front door burst open, and the sounds of children filled your ears. Not a second later, the banging on the door began.

"Hold your horses!" You yelled. "I'll be done in just a minute!"

"Oh, Y/n, hurry! Michael is going to soil his pants!" A boy's voice called out, followed by a higher-pitched voice, who she soon recognized as the boy in question.

"By, god, learn some patience!" You called, as the pounding resumed.

274 pounds. That should be enough for supper tonight. You slid the coins from the counter and back into the pouch before tucking it in your cloak and threw the door open. The two children rushed inside before you could even step out. You rolled your eyes and walked past them, into the main setting where two other children were pulling out homework.

"Y/n, what is fifty-seven minus twenty-three?"

"Thirty-four, what grade are you in?" You asked, opening the fridge.

"Second,"

"Where's Samantha?" You asked, taking five small cups from the cabinet as you broke the seal on a bottle of milk and started pouring them inside.

"Helen left her because she was taking too long,"

"What? Harry!" You yelled, placing the bottle down before rushing back to the bathroom.

"What is it Y/n?" He asked.

"Where in God's name is Samantha?" He stopped and faced you.

"She's not in there with you?"

"No! Oh for the love of-" You groaned. "I'm fetching after her! Harry is in charge while I'm away!" You quickly pulled your cloak around you before buttoning it. You grabbed the glasses of milk and placed them in the fridge quickly before snatching your bag of coins and dropping it in your pocket. You slipped through the door and pulled your hood up before rushing down the stairs and onto the street. You ran past people, bumping into them and shoving them aside as you raced through the back streets of London.

You sped around a corner and knocked into a hard chest. The force sent you to the ground, and the man stumbled back. On your way down, however, you slipped your hand into the jacket of the man and helped yourself to his billfold. You tucked it away as you fell, hiding it from view.

"Watch what you're doing!" A male voice barked out. You growled as you stood to your feet. A man towered over you, practically double your height. He stood at roughly 167 cm, while you were just a mere 150 cm.

"Tch," You scoffed, already moving on your way to pass him by and continue on your way. You ran past him without sparing him another glance, just wanting to get out of view from those piercing amber eyes.