Alright, so in his defense, he had actually worked for his money today. But then he had run into his mother, and though he had been determined not to give the bitch anything, she had somehow talked him into handing it over anyway. And now he had nothing, and she was in the pub. 

So could anyone really blame him for lurking in an alley with a knife in his pocket? He didn't think so. 

Hiding in the shadows, he looked around for a suitable victim. It had to be quiet enough when the person passed. They had to be unsuspecting. And they should look as if they had enough money on them. He wasn't going to risk prison for a penny.

Quentin was rather enjoying his time in Whitby. While it was nothing like the exotic locales he often preferred, it was a lovely small town with plenty of culture. A good reminder that Britain had something to offer, even if it wasn't the only society of merit in the world as some of his contemporaries in London seemed to think. 

The lord was currently enjoying a brisk stroll through the village simply taking in the feel of it. He caught more than a few eyes as he meanders for various reasons. His height, which was taller than normal. His attire, a three-piece suit expertly tailored that spoke of obvious wealth. The friendly smile and warm greeting he gave to all who passed. He certainly left an impression as he goes.

Turning a corner he enters what was, unknown to him, the rougher side of town. Not that this worried him in the slightest as he passes by narrow alleyways that could continue all kinds of nefarious ne'er-do-wells waiting for a naive walker to trap in a nasty net.

The nefarious ne'er-do-well stepped out, and held out his knife. "Stop!"

Noah had hesitated. The man was tall and looked strong. But he also looked very wealthy. And when he had come close, greedy impulse had triumphed over caution.

But as he stood there, caution inconveniently returned. The man was really quite tall, and Noah's knife was blunt, for it was a simple piece of cutlery from home. "Give me your money or I'll stab you," he said with a light tremor in his voice.

'Poke you', would be more accurate.

The sudden appearance of the young man came as a bit of a surprise to Quentin. Whitby had seemed so... rustic that he hadn't thought he would have to deal with such. Though he supposed every town had its shadier side and misfortunate people. His gaze goes to the knife in question and he purses his lips. It had the look of an eating knife and not one that had been well cared for. The young man was also, if Quentin was being charitable, maybe half Quentin's own weight which made the attempted robbery seem rather comical.

"Very well young man."

Quentin says with an amicable smile.

"Have at it. Let's see what you got."

He gestures Noah forward so the boy can attempt to stab him.

That frightened him even more. The hand that held the knife trembled a little. But Noah was determined not to wet his pants this time. "Don't mess with me, unless you want a knife in your neck!" he threatened. But he was really trying to encourage himself rather than intimidate the man. "Give me your money!"

Would he be able to outrun this guy?

Quentin assumes parade rest, his feet shoulder-width apart and his hands clasped behind his back, he arches an eyebrow at Noah as the boy makes his demands. Quentin's smiles at the young man and his tone is warm if coloured slightly with amusement. "My boy, you are holding what looks to be a very ill-cared for butter knife. I am hardly messing with you, I am simply genuinely curious to see if you can actually do any damage with it." Though he supposed to the young man's eyes that could very well be seen as messing with him.

He turned red. Shit. He really was making a fool of himself. Time for a new strategy: get the hell out of here.

He took a step back, though still holding out the knife to deter the man from attacking him. "Fine," he said, trying to sound cool and composed. "You can go..."

"How very magnanimous," Quentin says with a chuckle. "Well if you aren't to satisfy my curiosity in that respect, then perhaps you can do so in another." He says musingly still obviously quite amused by all that was happening. "And earn some coin in the process. I find myself peckish, if you can show me a decent place to eat then I can pay you." He pauses and eyes the boy for a moment. "A shilling." He finally decides, based on the lads state of dress he needed a damn sight more than that but Quentin wasn't about to jump straight to giving the boy a full pound when Noah had tried to rob him.

Noah was on his guard when the man suggested he might satisfy his curiosity otherwise. And as the man proposed the little job, Noah eyed him suspiciously. It might well be a trick to take him to the police station. He wasn't going to fall for that one!

But when he heard the price - a shilling, merely for showing this guy the way - greed once again overcame caution. "Yes ser," he said, and he put the knife away. He stepped out onto the main street. "This way, ser."

"Good lad," Quentin says with a chuckle breaking his parade rest to follow Noah. The thought that the young man might lead him into some kind of trap didn't trouble the lord overly much. It would simply be a bit of excitement on a tame day after all.

"So, I would not have thought the conditions in Whitby to be so dire that they would drive a young man to armed robbery," Quentin observes as they move through the city streets. "If you would indulge a curious fellow, what exactly drove you to attempt a mugging of all things?"