" 'ey, Olivah!" He entered from the other room. The young boy instantly appeared next to the caller for fear that if he weren't quick enough, he might receive punishment.

"Yes?" He responded, his voice as innocent as his aimed to be corrupted soul.

Dodger grinned mischievously, throwing his feet to rest on the table in front of him as he lounged on a very much ruined couch,

"Where 'er you today? Seemed we 'er missing our 'elp awl day, isn't that right Charley?" The very humorous boy leaned over the back of the couch as he inspected the orphan with much pleasure.

"Yeah, 'un less pain in our necks!" The boy burst into laughter, much to Dodger's dismay, he elbowed him in the chest, then directed his attention back to Oliver,

"What's that you got in your 'and? Another marked 'un?" He surveyed him with much speculation in his gaze. Oliver seized to respond, " Is that awl 'ou do awl day? Fiddle with rags? Hell, even Lottie can do that, what are you good for?" This time, both Charley and Dodger received the enjoyment in the form of laughter.

Oliver's expression remained stoic, although his mentality seemed to be dwindling every passing day as he received constant criticism from the gang. How he so desperately wished to escape. How he wished he had never met such the horrid boy who brought him to this new prison.

Dodger moved himself to reach under the couch, pulling out a long pipe to smoke on. Once again, he crossed his legs upon the wooden table before speculating Oliver,

"Take off my boots." He complied, as it seemed he hadn't much choice,

"Speaking of Lottie, are you 'ungry Oliver?" He placed the pipe in his mouth as he wait for a response. He opened his mouth, releasing smoke into the near atmosphere, "'ey Lawt-ie!" No response, "Lawt-ie!"

A light thumping sounded the hall as she made her entrance through the door from the upstairs part of the shack. Her expression was anything but thrilled as she sent glares piercing through the room to Dodger. She wore an orange-red gown, the color still faded as it neared the bottom. It was lightly knit across the chest, but otherwise plain as it possessed long sleeves. Her blonde curls remained the same, falling limp against her rosy dirt padded cheeks. She placed a hand on her hip,

"Yes your royal 'ighness?" she mocked. Dodger removed the pipe from his mouth,

"Why don't you fix us all something to eat."

"Yeah something good!" Charley chimed in.

"Yew seems to got two perfectly good 'ands!"

"The arrogance o' wo'en nowa days, you goh'a put 'em in place you do." He glared back at the girl, clearly not amused with the new found attitude. In the past Lottie had always been so timid, even now in the face of Fagin she would remain quiet and stay in her place. But lately she had been developing her own ideas of how she should be treated.

Dodger reached for his boot which laid untied on the table. He lifted it as if to throw, but paused as she lifted a finger, "Yew throw that and I'll whip you!"

"You best be in the kitchen, then!"

"Actually, Dodger, I'm not awl that 'ungry." she held a hand out to Oliver, as if to explain something to Dodger,

"See?" His foot met the middle of Oliver's chest as he kicked him to the ground. Lottie rushed to his side, quickly bringing him to rest in her lap as if to tend to him, asking if he was alright.

"Take it elsewhere!" He laughed at the scene. Lottie shot him a look. When he did not listen, she dropped Oliver,

"That's it!" She threw herself at the lounging boy. He put an arm up at an attempt at shielding himself from her pounding fist. She wrestled him to the ground, sitting on top of him as she continued to throw punches. He fought back though, hitting Lottie measurably hard against her arm.

"Children. Children, please! Can't we 'evah get along?" All four of their heads were lifted to see the old man struggle through the door, turning to close it behind him. Quickly, Lottie climbed off the boy, wrapping her arms around his neck,

"I don't know what you are talking about, Fagin!" She spoke surely and sweetly. He shooed her with a hand, blowing off her response,

"I saws it." Dodger ripped her arms off of him,

"She just 'ame afta me like a bloody animal!" He scolded, and Charley laughed, "She deserves a beating."

"Don't you worry, Dodger. She'll be goin out tomorrow a'y'ways." He scanned the room suspiciously, not exactly directing his stare to any one person, "Charley." He motioned him over as he needed to speak to him.

She rolled her eyes, standing up to brush herself off. She felt a sharp grab to her wrist pulling her back, herself pressed against the boys chest,

"You look very beautiful today, Lottie." She scowled in disgust, quickly pulling away from his grasp,

"It amazes me 'ow fast you can go from cocky to flirt." She made her way towards the kitchen, only momentarily shooting a look of sympathy to the poor Oliver who sat in silence on the ground.

The room fell silent as Dodger went back to smoking his pipe. Oliver looked back up to him, his eyes following the smoke rings he blew,

"Do you like 'er? Dodgah?"

"Who?"

"Lottie."

"'course not."

"Then why did you…"

"Don't let 'er fool you boy, she's the one aftah me."

"It didn't look that way."

"'ut your mouth. She's a good gal, and maybe I'd make 'er my wife someday. 'ew knows? But if you lay a 'and on 'er, well, let's just say you'll 'ave five less fingers"