20th Yaris 2720
Tobias knew not everyone would appreciate his poetry, chalked in chicken-scratch across the front door of the lower courthouse. The quick double-tap of a baton on his right shoulder conveyed urgency and displeasure in equal parts.
"What in the blazes is the meaning of this?"
Tobias spun around on his heel, his back pressed against the double door on which he'd painted, in no uncertain terms, his feelings toward the judiciary system. The brush that threatened to slip from his fingers dripped with the same white paint that coated his fingers and now marred the courthouse entrance.
The Seventen with the baton was of a slight and slender build, only a little taller than himself, but no less imposing because of it. There wasn't a speck to be found on his impeccable, twice washed, ironed and certified uniform that fitted his form as though he were born in it. He gave a little push with his baton against Tobias's neck, pushing him aside to reveal the entirety of the message that had been scrawled on the door. It hadn't been very inspired, but everyone knew it was true. The thick, drooping letters read:
High Judge Assmus kissus asses.
Tobias had just been finishing the little signature egg-shaped dot underneath the writing when the Seventen had showed up out of nowhere. He wouldn't have risked something so brazen as to insult the high judge on the front door of a courthouse if the chance hadn't presented itself so seductively. The sole guard of the courthouse, the very one that was now reading his handiwork with narrowing eyes, had been momentarily distracted by a consternation further down the street. All he had done was walk up to the courthouse, grabbed a brush and bucket from the variety of tools the painters who'd gone out for lunch had left behind, and added a little flair to their job.
"The audacity" the Seventen bristled. His face turned a faint shade of purple. "Vandalism! Poetry!" He didn't seem to make much of a distinction between the two. "You... you...!"
Tobias didn't bother to wait to find out what other words the aghast officer intended to throw at him. While the lawman struggled to contain his anger at the flagrant defacement of government property, Tobias jumped into action. He leaped past the fuming man, dodged a blow with the baton, ignored the furious cries that lashed at his back and ran.
"Stop! Stop that boy! Stop him!" cried the officer giving chase.
But by the time any of the startled pedestrians had put one and one together, he'd already raced past them. He pumped his legs, dashed this way then that, wormed himself through a thickening sea of arms and legs and turning heads until he could no longer hear the officer's cries behind him.
He slowed his pace, jogged along the street and finally came to a panting halt in a narrow alleyway. His face was red and hot from exertion and he could feel his heart thump in his throat. Once he'd made the mistake of thinking chases were over when the pursuer had been shaken, but the punishment that had come down on him mere moments later had taught him a valuable lesson. He needed to hide. He needed time. Time for the officer to forget his face, time to lay low and stay out of trouble for a while.
But where could he go? Running back to the book and bell would mean confessing to rum Ginny that he'd landed himself in hot water again. He might as well turn himself in to the constables for all the reprimand that would get him. Besides, it was a long way from here to there. He needed something a little closer, someplace safe, someplace to stay the night.
Clinging to the shadows of the alleyway, Tobias kept a move on while he wrecked his brain for a place to stay. There was one place but... he'd never been there before, didn't know the woman who lived there, though Brent had said she was nice, if a little set in her cranky old ways. He doubted Brent would appreciate him showing up all of a sudden, they'd never really talked much, but he knew the teen had covered for him at least once. Perhaps he'd be willing to do it again, should the Seventen come knocking. Tobias hoped he hadn't misjudged the lanky boy.
By the time Tobias arrived at the pink eyesore that the woman supposedly lived in (really, it was impossible to miss and seemed like a rather poor hiding place on second thought, but he'd already knocked on the door) he'd caught his breath a little, but still had the wild look of chased prey about him. He hoped Brent would be answering the door, it would be easier that way and he wouldn't be stuck outside, uneasily shifting his weight from one leg to another and shooting concerned glances over his shoulder.
