Alasdair stood with his back to the water as he leaned against the railings, he had been on patrol since the early hours and it hadn't even reached lunchtime yet. The tunics were getting hot and itchy and he knew the lads were all feeling the same way. He looked out into the water and contemplated for a minute before returning his thoughts back to the job in hand and the force he was in charge of. 

he turned round and continued his patrol, he looked to his partner and said "coffee?"

Before his partner could reply, a smaller figure dashed by. But spun on his feet as he noticed the uniform. The boy stared then his expression became an annoyed scowl.

"Another one of you lumps?! Where do they keep finding ya?!" This was a chance for him to show off how unafraid he was of the law and be seen as a dangerous but cool criminal type. The type that he'd be feared when he was just a touch older, having gotten such a reputation.

The child wiped at his cheek though it did nothing for the smear of dirt already painting his cheek. "Guess they are getting desperate for this hell hole." He pulled up his pants though they couldn't really move much as he perhaps needed to scrounge for a new pair soon since he was sure he was in line for a growth spurt any day now.

He picked up a rock, and threw it. He didn't aim at either one in particular, and a part of him didn't want to hit either since it would get him in more trouble and maybe some deep seated part didn't want to hurt people. So the rock without simply careened between the two and he'd taken off into the crowd, but glanced back to see if they'd followed. It was a really hot day, and he'd wished he'd been on the water. Maybe he'd head to the beach after he'd riled up the local police.

This place was crawling with uppity folks right now, and Jewel thanked the ricotta for that.

Ri… gotta? Ragata? He didn’t know what the word was or what it meant, but he’d heard it said enough to connect it to the hordes of tourists that had flooded Whitby recently. More folks in town meant a few things, both of them good:

First, that there was a lot more variety to choose from when it came to picking his marks, and a lot of opportunities to try his schemes again on someone else if they didn’t work.

Second, that it was easier to blend into the crowds. There were too many different faces and accents for most passing strangers to care much about his.

Jewel was passing through one such crowd, focused intently on following the back of some old rich guy’s head, when he felt something bump into him and throw him off track.

“Hey, watch it!” he complained, looking down to see… what was either a child or a very small man.

Coffee? Coffee while there were so many beating opportunities, every which way they looked?

“You go ahead,” Fanny said in her gruffest voice, which sounded pubescent at best.

Officer Coburn was about to give the little rat bastard the beating his father should have given him, but then saw where the rock hit: a weirdo with a hat bigger than even the trashiest whore wore.

She kind of wanted it.

Finger curled around her baton, a stern look as she pondered important questions like how to knock this bastard down without bending his hat.

Alasdair smirked. "Leave him be Francis, he's only trying to bait a reaction. He's not worth the time and or the paperwork that went with it" he also titled his head slightly in Francis direction. "Plus there are too many witnesses, all we are doing is feeding into their police brutally speel that they will tell everyone and have witnesses"

It wasn't long before alasdair appeared with a hot cup of coffee before continuing the beat