And (open) bothersome they stay.

[Reld]

MINTY

[/color]freshbreath[/size]
_{(yea yea, it's really Rimmeid. freshbreath is just cooler.)}[/right][/font][/sub]

Minty walked slowly through the docks. She was early, as always, and her brother was sure to be a few minutes late in meeting her.
Like always, lingering behind to talk with his chums, having a cigarette. He’d gotten sick of her complaining about his smoking, apparently. Of course, Laird had always been the rebel brother, not staying within his class, hanging out with the guys from the slums.
He was fitting in fine, now, though. When social status wasn’t as important as it had been to most. Now there was more concern for money, and Laird had easily adapted to the jobs lower men would‘ve done. That some muttered about - they felt themselves too good for such work, but they wanted to eat, so they worked wherever would take them.
Minty thought Laird might actually be happier working here in the ship yard then he had at their father’s business.

As she walked she tried to stay away from the edge of the dock, being shoved past so often. The last thing she needed was to fall into that dreadful cold water. She’d completely miss Laird, if she didn’t freeze to death, that is.
She stopped at the end of one of the docks, like she normally did, and waited for her brother, standing straight and trying not to shiver. A whistle blew somewhere, announcing the end of the shift, and a great many men came stomping past her, barking with laughter or zippering flimsy coats. She pretended to completely ignore them and started counting off the seconds, turning them into minutes, blowing out her breath.

Big Ben tolled out five o’clock behind her and she jumped. Had it really been an hour? Minty was freezing, her hands shoved deep into her wool coat’s pockets, her nose and cheeks rosy. Yet she was still standing stiffly straight, a pain in her back starting, but her not letting up good posture. It didn’t seem like it had been… But I was foolishly not concentrating… she stabbed herself with the words. What if he had just walked past, not seen her or something, and she has completely missed him? No, he knew she was coming.
Where is he? she thought, lips firmly pressed together, eyes set to the corner he should’ve walked around to meet her an hour ago. She would’ve burned a hole in the dock with that gaze if she was anything but human. And even, perhaps, then, if she was left at it long enough.
She knew he hated her meeting him, but their mother thought it a good idea, since they worked close and it was so many blocks home. Who knew what could happen to a girl out there on the streets!
Minty hadn’t minded. She wasn’t afraid of walking home by herself, but having Laird along was actually quite nice most of the time. He kept good company, even with his annoying bad habits.
And if any of those strange men dared try and jump her he’d be able to give them a good punch or something. Her brother had come home bruised before.

He had probably skipped out on her somewhere. Actually, she was sure that‘s what he‘d done. He was off with his buddies getting up to no good somewhere. In a bar or some on scum pit.
Minty knew what would happen tonight, when she got home without him. Her mum would sit down grief-stricken, stare at the living room’s flowered wallpaper which was peeling just the slightest bit. And her dad would shake his head, his eyebrows would bend down into an angry V, and he would make muttering sounds under his breath.

Oh, and then when Laird got home! She knew just what would take place then, too. Minty would be sitting in the hall, trying not to bite her nails.
Mum would just sit there in her chair and say, in a deadly calm way, “What’s happened to my baby? Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to your little sister out there tonight?”. Dad would say that as long as Laird lived with them he’d stay out of trouble, at which Laird would shout that he was 20 fricken years old, that he should be able to do what he wants, and dad would say, “If you’re a man go rent your own house!” and then Laird would storm off out of the house, slamming the door, to cool off.

Minty would get up and while passing look into her brothers’ room, where Mason would be laying on his bed flipping through a book, grinning. When Minty had once asked simply “Why?” he looked at her and said, still grinning, “He never learns. It isn’t tricky to keep personal stuff like that from parents and have them think you’re their good child. All you’ve got to do is get home on time, basically.”

Later Minty would think about it in her room and wonder how many times Mason had gotten away with something, while maintaining that perfect son reputation. Her mind might even drift to why her brothers were so different when they were identical twins… or maybe they weren’t any different at all, you could just see through Laird’s activities, while Mason was a bit smarter.

Anyways, Laird wasn’t here now and she shouldn’t bother waiting for him any longer. No doubt he wasn’t going to show up.
Why does he always do this? Her mind echoed into another pane. She really wasn’t looking forward to facing her parents at home. Not that it was in any way her fault, but she didn’t like to see their features sag, their essences dim. But her mother would be worried…
So Minty took one last look around the ship yard and turned to start her walk home.

(OOC:)
Feel free to take this wherever you'd like. Don't feel like you gotta crank it up to 1,000 words, either, although I'd prefer a reply that was more than a few little paragraphs. (:
And sorry about the crappy font color, I haven't gotten it adjusted to my preference quite yet, but I don't have time right now.