Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sweeney Todd (or as he'd previously been known: Benjamin Barker), was a spiteful man. Not many around him seemed to know why. From Turkey, to Peru. Benjamin had plenty friends around where he'd go, and briefly settle... but couldn't seem to make a proper, full, connection.

He had a resting scowl, upon his pale, wellshaven face, and his dark unruly hair, which a white stripe running through one side, gave the impression of a man who had lost all care to look friendly.

With how cold, and white his complexion was, honestly, one would quite easily assume a man like him had not spend a single day outside; let alone, any time at all, at sea.

On the cloudy, yet whitely lit day he docked at a familiar, what stood out most, on his face, where the heavy dark bags under his eyes, and the stiffness of his brow.

His eyes swirled around in their sockets, at his surroundings, then centred themselves. It came off dismissive, to any onlookers, With no words even stated, before he stepped out onto a dock. Dismissive of what, one could not be certain.

Port Jackson, of Sydney, Terra Australis.

A warm place. Much warmer than London. Though of course Todd did not much care to spend time anywhere that remotely reminded him of that place, weather-wise.

Bleak. Dark and grey. Shadows overcast the place like at any moment you'd be thrust into something perilous. London reeked of trouble. London reeked of shit. London loomed over a man like it was a being in itself. London wanted to take, and never give back.

Of course, that all seemed a byproduct of the cruelty of mankind. Just as coal produced a foul and noxious smoke, thick with corruption, so to did society produce one of equal stature, harsh and bleak to all who tried to make something of themselves. A black smog that persisted through the world, ever present, and surely ensuring that even the purest of heart would one day become jaded, and bitter, just as Todd found himself...

At least Sydney was brighter. But still loomed the embedded nature of human kind. On every street corner. On every block. In every person's eyes, was that fickle glimmer, that hinted at beauty, about to turn to something which Sweeney despised.

Every single person had it. Not a man, woman, or child without it. That horrid shard caught in each and every heart, that wanted to take, and take only for themselves. Not as close to the surface, was it held, by the everyday inhabitants of Sydney, in comparison to those of London. But held, still, it was. Humans did not seem to want to survive, without it. Clinging so hard to it one would think they'd start bleeding.

It was remarkable, how volatile a thing like it was. It was nearly remarkable, how humans coexisted as much as they did, or do, with it in mind...

As Todd kept close to the edge of a street, he was fidgeting through his far too warm coat's pockets, looking for his coinpurse. He eventually found it, and kept hold of it within the confines of the  coat, as he strode within a stayhouse pub.

Early afternoon, not too many present within. He sat down at a bar, ignoring the people about, and had the briefest word with the bartender he could possibly, once he had actually gotten his  attention, by hitting the counter. He ordered himself rum.

He sat wallowing, for a relatively short, while... before some familiar faces chose to greet him. Make conversation. Pestering him, with niceties, that he purely went along with so they'd leave him be, soon.

And leave him alone, they did. After an hour. At least half of which had been filled by them saying 'we should really leave you be... Oh, but-!' and things of the like.

The establishment seemed to be filling in that time... He had another drink, and thought it was likely time he got a room to actually bring his small luggage to, and settle in. It had been a... relatively long ride on the ship. He'd had longer. But, he would greatly have appreciated, right then, resting somewhere that didn't have a tendency to sway.

He just had to finish up his drink, and he'd be done.

It was then, he felt a hard knock to his head, that felt distinctly to be, a sharp and daft elbow. He was thrust forward, his drunk spilled. The assailant stumbled away from him, laughing, patting another fellow on the back, not seeming to care that his mistake had cause somebody else any upset whatsoever.

Sweeney was ruffled. Watching the man with a piercing gaze, he slammed his glass down in a moment so fierce, that it shattered, cutting him- though he hardly took note.

He knocked his stool sideways as he stood up at his left, making way to the fellow, fury filling his vision, with nothing left for reason or any other persuasion.

He tapped the man on the shoulder with a flat, firm palm. Once he had turned, Todd sent a right hook swinging right into his fatuous, pathetic, brown stubbled and greasy face.

He fell swirling swift to the ground. Sweeney took a hanky from his pocket, and wiped his knuckles, where it had made contact with the unappealing, sweaty sort of man. 

As he was, the fellows equally unappealing friend looked to him, quickly angered once his eyes met Todd's. The man went to deliver Todd his own hook. Todd dodged. The fellow stumbled, and staggered into a seperate man, who wore a tophate, who did not take it kindly.

The man with the tophat threw the sweaty fellow, and the fellow staggered backwards into, almost stepping on his mate on the floor's head on the way. He eventually stumbled into some woman.

The woman yelled, and spun around, swinging her bag towards the fellow, which in reaction caused him to slip to the ground, but she missed and hit another woman.

The first woman and the second woman began a brawl, and some fellow who seemed to have come here with the first woman pulled the sweaty man from the ground, and started fighting.

Essentially more and more people kept getting swept into the fight, to the point with Sweeney stood there rather dumbfounded.

It surrounded him, a mess of brawling, yelling people, unleashing their corruption upon each other, and he'd been doing well to dodge it all, before, in his pariferal he saw a fist gliding close towards him, and hadn't found yet, his reaction.

He anticipated a strike of pain in the side of his head, at his cheekbone- however? Remarkably...

Remarkably, some fellow had pushed the assailant away from catching Sweeney off guard. A stranger crumpelled to the floor, as a seperate stranger came into sight, with an amused mouth, amazed brow and cheeks, and thrilled look glinting in his eye.

His face swept facing the way of Todd, and that was when Sweeney caught the fullness of the fellows elegant smile. An excitement exuded from copper-brunet, pungently. Todd found it greatly distasteful, at first. Like an unwelcome, damp blanket, to the face.

The fellow swung his tan arm to Sweeney's shoulder, rather unexpectedly, and seemed to- before Sweeney knew what was happening- be rushing him out of the establishment building! He did not protest, simply caught in a wave of enveloping confusion, as to why this man was sweeping him out, rather than attempting to get a hit on him, himself.

The warm air and light outside was no real relief, from the foul air within the pub. The fellow moved from Sweeney, after some steps, panting. Leaning forward, those paces ahead, hands above his knees, getting back his senses, presumably.

Todd dusted his coat's, with the hanky he still held in his hand... took a glance back, behind him, at the tavern, taking in for a moment, the rowdy noise. Then he let himself look to the fellow who had just dragged him out. He stepped forward, briskly, towards him.

Sweeney gave a sigh... "Who might you be...?" he asked, with a gravelly, low voice.

The fellow stood tall, after a silent moment, then turned around. He gave Todd an awkward smile, before wiping his hand against his dusty red trousers, and holding it to great him. "Wilhelm. Carlos Wilhelm!" he said a tad too chipper, in a rather well pronounced Australian accent...

Sweeney looked to the man, feeling dreary. He had a freckled tan face, brown eyes... brown hair, and all together looked more earthy, and... warm, compared to Todd, beyond two sections of hair at the top front of his smoothed back hair, that were rather cold reminiscent... white.

He looked to have a tiring sort of energy... And was a little taller than Sweeney, which he simply found annoying.

He took the gents hand anyway... holding back a bitterness, and said, "Todd. Sweeney," and shook.

The fellow looked encouraged which Sweeney felt sapped by... "Todd Sweeney??"

"No. Sweeney Todd."

The fellow looked surprised. They were... still, shaking hands. "Oh! Well, Mr.Sweeney, what you started in there will have the place talking a while, I think! What fun!-"

"-It's, actually-"

"-I haven't seen a fight in there for so long, and honestly?? I think people really needed it! You really showed them, you know? Ay??" he grinned, and pet Sweeney on the shoulder with his free hand, "They just stumble around, bump into everybody, every which way, I hate it! I keep losing my drinks, and I can't get a refill. You're fighting for justice or something, mate," he panted, nodded, then went to turn away, hand sliding from Todd's.

He scoffed, "Justice..."

"Yes! And thanks a lot for it, Mr.Sweeney! Hope I'm seein' ya soon, ay?" he chuckled, waving behind him rigidly, before he ploughed his way back into a chaotic bar, cackling like a maniac.

Todd took his handkerchief, and tucked it in his pocket... "Mr.Todd, not Sweeney..." he whispered to himself.