Another day of dishonesty and thievery complete, Jacob idly strolls through the backstreets of London, unafraid of the sights that greet his eyes as he passes by. He'd travelled down the same streets since he'd been half his age. His eyes narrow in contemplation as he spies a figure hunched against a doorway, quickly turning to concern then amusement as he strides over, kneeling down to the fugures level and chuckling "Cor, blimey. You piss off the wrong bloke or summit, me old pal?"
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