Chapter 1: 1880, Fuck
It was a very queer occurrence, bizarre even. On a Saturday like any other, a loud crash could be heard from one of the many London alleyways. This, in itself, was not a very unusual occurrence. There were many stray animals and even more stray humans in this part of town.
What was strange, was the small figure that came stumbling out of the alleyway. When looking them over from top to bottom, all seemed normal at first. They had curly brown hair that grazed their shoulders in the same style that most men's hair did. They also wore very normal–albeit strangely clean–suspenders over a white shirt. What was strange, however, was that the wide pant legs revealed unusually large, hairy, feet.
In less than half a century, most people would recognise this person as a hobbit. They would know that hobbits are peaceful folks, about half the size of men. At this point in time, however, no one had ever heard of hobbits and so this hobbit in particular was viewed with much astonishment by the people passing by.
The hobbit looked around until their eyes landed on a child way prettier and blonder than everybody else. Instinctually, they walked towards the child, intent on asking him where exactly they were. Unfortunately, their native tongue was not spoken in this world.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" the blond asked, wrinkling his nose.
"Fuck?" the hobbit repeated, before speaking in her mother tongue again.
The boy scoffed, "Are you trying to be funny? I know for a fact that that's not a real language," when the hobbit didn't respond, he turned around to leave, "Whatever."
He didn't notice he was being followed until she tripped over some rubbish in the streets. Whirling around, the boy was faced with the hobbit again.
"What do you think you are doing?"
"Fuck."
"Would you stop saying that?!"
Though they didn't understand the words, the hobbit was quite familiar with the sound of frustration. They crossed their arms over her chest, "Fuck."
The blond concluded she must be daft.
"If you keep following me, I shall have to punch you," he warned and once again turned to leave.
Once again, he was followed.
They passed a few other people before he stopped again and was about to turn back around when a man suddenly called out.
"Someone took my watch!"
The shout echoed through the street as numerous people suddenly started to realize they were missing belongings.
"Look at that child!" a woman yelled, "The one with the strange feet! Her pockets are suspiciously full!"
The blond looked at his persistent shadow and realized that, indeed, the previously empty trouser pockets were now bulging with the shapes of different objects.
"Isn't that the Brando brat?" someone else called, "I wager he's in on it too, got the younger one to be his scapegoat! Everyone knows the Brandos are nothing but crooks!"
Said Brando cursed as he turned to flee, the hobbit hot on his heels.
"Why are you following me?!" he yelled, "You brought this on yourself!"
The hobbit laughed as the two of them ran as fast as their short legs could carry them. Brando cursed again before pulling the hobbit's arm and leading them to a hole in a brick wall.
They ran through a run-down house, pushing aside numerous inhabitants. "Dio?" a woman they passed called out, "Don't tell me you're in trouble again, boy!"
"It's not my fault, this time!" he yelled back as they continued their run.
No one from the original crowd had followed them through the house but when they climbed out a window on the other side, they were met with two policemen.
"Really?" Dio huffed, "The one time the pigs actually respond is when they're chasing me ?"
"Get down from that window!" one of the policemen called.
Dio turned towards the hobbit only to see that they had begun climbing a rain pipe up the building.
"I'm going to bloody murder you!" he called after them as he began to follow.
"Oi!" the policeman called, "I said get down from there!"
"Fuck!" the hobbit called out gleefully as they reached the roof.
The houses in this area were built closely together, with most of them being wall-to-wall from each other. This made it easy for the two children to escape over the rooftops–the great amount of chimney smoke aiding in their disappearance.
"I doubt they'll continue to follow us now," Dio coughed through some of the smoke, "It's going to be too much work for them."
He led the hobbit down one of the many houses and towards his own living place.
"If my father sees you here, he will surely kill us both," he remarked, though he wasn't understood.
Curiously, the hobbit looked around before taking a seat at a wobbly table and beginning to take various items out of their trouser pockets.
Dio reached for a wallet but it was snatched out of his reach before he could touch it.
He looked at the smaller person in anger, "After all the trouble you got me into, I expect nothing less than a share of this!"
Although she was unable to understand his words, his meaning didn't seem lost on the hobbit, who–after a moment of hesitation–pushed half of their stolen goods towards their new friend.
Dio didn't mention that they clearly had no idea of the object's worth and instead pointed at himself. "I'm Dio, by the way, Dio Brando. You ought to know that, if you plan on pestering me further."
The hobbit tilted their head in confusion.
" DEE-OH ," he enunciated, pointing at himself.
"Dio," the hobbit repeated, slowly.
"Exactly."
They nodded before beginning to draw in the fine layer of dust that covered the table.
"A cloud?" Dio asked, watching them. They added lines underneath, "Rain?" he amended, looking up at them.
The hobbit nodded, tapping the dusty rain again.
"Very well then, I shall call you Rainy."
"Rainy," the hobbit once again repeated slowly before nodding in contentment and looking through her loot again.
As he watched her, Dio had the sinking feeling that he would not be rid of her any time soon.