Gabriel had been passing homes, calling upon the spirit of Christmas, to collect money for Christmas meals for the poorest of the town. He could not do enough to stop them from going hungry for most of the year, but at least on Christmas, he hoped that every family in his parish could have a hearty meal. Some people had slammed the door in his face as soon as they saw his long black cassock, Roman collar, and clerical saturno. Not everyone appreciated a catholic priest. But he had still encountered a lot of charity as well, and it cheered him. Although he faced disapproval from some of the wealthier members of his congregation, more and more working class people were coming to Mass, and he hoped that the Christmas support would encourage more to come.  

Collection tin under his arm, Gabriel passed the streets merrily, quite unaware of impending doom. He was in such good spirits that he passed the narrower, darker streets without a concern, despite the fact that it was already dark. Had he not just proven that the people of Whitby were good? Merry Christmas indeed!

Anthony never really enjoyed Christmas. Perhaps it was so because to him, it just served as a bitter reminder of how he has no home to go back to with a warm meal and his family waiting for him there. Perhaps it was becaude of something else. Either way, he didn't dwell on the feeling, and instead kept leaning against a wall in a dark alley, flipping a knife in a very 'stereotypical no-good criminal' way. That fit him just fine. It was just the reputation he wanted for himself. As unassuming as he may have looked to an outsider, he was actually observing the streets rather carefully. It was as such, then, that when he saw a rather joyous man with some sort of....thing under his arm, it caught his eye, and he left his comfortable wall to follow the man, who appeared to either be very stupid or not care for his well-being at all.

Of course, he had done these sorts of things numerous times before. If you were to ask him, he would say that he has perfected the art of robbery. And this man here seemed worth robbing. Running his fingers through his hair to make it look slightly more disheveled (a very painful act for him, as he was very vain of his hair), and starting to fake-shiver as if to try and elicit sympathy if the man were to see him, he kept following him. Staying silent. For now.

When Gabriel became aware of being followed, he did become slightly uncomfortable, and he clutched the collection tin. He quickly glanced back, but when he noticed the miserable appearance of the man, he stopped and turned round. The poor soul was trembling! He was dressed rather unusually, but his clothes appeared to be in a poor state. Hand-me-downs no doubt. "Good man! Are you alright?" Gabriel called out.

As the stranger turned around, Anthony quickly turned his cold and almost calculated expression into a more....genuine one. If only it had been genuine. Suddenly, he became very aware of the knife hidden in his coat. But violence wasn't on his mind right now. He wouldn't hurt the man if he wasn't given reason to. "What?" he replied almost instinctively, and in a rather out of character way. Anthony never was quite the best actor.

"I'm fine," he shook his head. "Kind of cold and hungry being out here, to be quite honest, but that's just life, innit?"

"It is, for many, I'm afraid..." Gabriel said. He thought for a moment. He couldn't give charity to all those who needed it, but there was no one else to see it, so no one else would come begging. Gabriel dug his hand into his pocket and took out some change. It wasn't much, but it might be enough to buy a roll at the bakery the next morning. He walked over to the man and held it out to him. "Here, take this please."

Anthony looked up at the stranger as the latter approached him, holding out some pocket change to him. With a small, forced smile, he accepted the money and hid it into his coar. The amount was almost pathetic. Do people call THIS charity? However, he was still somewhat grateful for the gesture, as it showed him that the guy had at least some money. Which meant he was worth robbing."Thank you, sir," he said. "should be more folk like you out here."

His hand stayed on the knife hidden within his coat rather restlessly, looking at the man, as if he was waiting for the right moment to whip it out.

"Well, we can only do our own bit, can't we?" Gabriel said. "If you can, you must come to our Christmas mass at St. Hilda's at ten this Christmas, sir. There will be warm drinks and cakes after Mass..."

"I suppose so," he shrugged, looking at the man, an ever-so faint smile remaining on his face. "If the situation allows it, I'll come, no question about it." His reply was almost as if through gritted teeth—not physically, but even so it felt difficult for him to get the words out. He has never had a single good experience with Christ or churches or masses or whatever the fuck these catcholics are doing now. The answer became clear to him. He has no qualms about roughing up one of THOSE people.

With a fast movement of his hand, he pulled the knife from his coat pocket, holding it up threateningly. Most of the warmth from his expression had gone. "Now, sir," he kept talking. "I'd reccomend you give me whatever you got in that tin." He gestured with his head towards the tin to make sure that they both understood what he was talking about.

Gabriel jumped. How had this situation suddenly turned around? It took him a moment to grasp what was going on. Then he stepped back, and held up a hand - quite uselessly. He felt his heartbeat rise, but he did not relinquish the tin. "Easy now... You don't really want to do this..." At least Gabriel hoped so. His voice trembled.

Anthony looked at the man in a 'don't even bother with this bullshit' kind of way. As the man took a step backwards, he took another step forwards, almost like a predator stalking it's prey. "Do you really think that?" He asked, in a very unimpressed tone. "Now, sir, I'm not going to slit your throat if you just gave me the fucking tin." The expression on Anthony's face showed that he is ready to hurt him if needed. That he isn't just bluffing or fucking around.