Hm. He should make up some shit about Zack and Darius later.

Instead of answering, Chris ducked down and rose with his shoe in hand. He smashed the glass until the window was cleared of it, then put his shoe back on.

"Well?" he said with an expectant look, and then half-stepped, half-stumbled in.

Just when 'Zack' seemed nice and he could have sworn he was flirting with him, he flipped. He didn't understand but was glad that asshole John had left. He sighed and decided not to bother and shrugged.

He winced as the bastard, Chris, didn't give him chance to move away so now he had a scratch on his hand. Great. It could have been worse. His lips moved to his hand hoping to snuff out the sting and glared at Chris but then looked down hoping he didn't notice. "Mmhmm..' he mumbled and carefully climbed in after him.

"You still never said what was here.'

Was Zechariah sober enough to get his leg up that high? Probably not.

"I shall keep watch," he offered, oh so nobly.

"My thanks for nothing, Zack!" Chris called back.

Chris ignored Darius and put his hands on his hips, looking quite pleased with himself as he surveyed... well, complete and utter darkness beyond the light from the window.

Something gleamed in the dark. Multiple somethings. The strong smell of unwashed bodily odors wafted up, and eyes gleamed in the dark.

And then something clicked open from the floor. There was a flash of metal as an old woman rose, a lone tooth in the front of her mouth gleaming in a grimace. Others were stirring.

The two of them alone? Fine, he could probably handle anything that Chris wanted. He regretted it by the smell and clapped a hand over his face to try to cover it up. When he saw the people, his eyes widened and he stepped back.

"C-Chris? W-what's going on?" This was not fun. This was not entertainment. This was not even a brothel. What was he doing!?

He was hoping it was empty, but alas.

"We mean you no harm," Chris said gallantly, hands raised in faux surrender.

But then he undid his trousers and began urinating on the spot.

The old, shabbily dressed woman scowled but waved her children back.

"Begone, you rabblerousing bastards!"

She brandished the knife threateningly, but didn't seem to want to get too close to the stream of urine.

Darius gave Chris a look of shock. What on earth? This was so much trouble. "Come on, let's just go. She has a knife." He whispered to him hoping to put reason into him. "We can find another house if this is all you wanted to do.'

He looked at the woman. "Stand back, you old hag. And keep that knife away, it isn't worth it if we get a constable."

Chris merely smiled, tinkling on.

"A constable!" the woman sputtered, eyes gleaming with fury and unshed tears. "You broke our window!"

"And if the constable swings by-" tinktink tinkle, it was a long night of drinking "-is this residence yours by law?"

Zechariah fumbled his pocket watch, dropped it, and finally managed to get it open. God. What was taking them so long?

It did not even occur to him to wonder what they were doing.

Darius had spent far too much time with Chris. "That isn't how I remember it. We were walking by and your lot pulled us in. We broke the window trying to escape. You held us up with a knife." He glanced at Chris and then away with more of a frown. "I really hope you didn't come in here just to do that. You have.. never mind. Sorry I mentioned it." He was going to say he had a weird sense of humor but Chris wouldn't take it well.