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[jack_artful]

It wasn’t until Dodger had tumbled out of bed, hopped to the front door tugging his trousers on, stumbled outside with his hat in hand, shirt, waistcoat, cravat, and coat loose, rumpled, and untucked, and staggered out to Millbank street, with Westminster Abbey to his left, and the Thames in from him, that he realized something wasn’t right.  It

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[a_swan_diver]

Bella wandered out of the Homestead, pulling and yanking on the dress she'd tried to get on and wobbling on shoes she hadn't been able to get laced. Yeah, she'd been warned, but looking like Charlotte Bronte had come into her room and swapped clothes with her was something altogether different.

She tripped over a seam in the sidewalk, still trying to get over the geographic changes as well as the clothing ones, when she spied a woman coming towards her. She'd never seen her before, but most people here were friendly. She smiled and held a hand out, "excuse me?"

Her jaw dropped when the woman walked away without a word or glance. "Well, crap."

[a_swan_diver]

Bella just laughed. "Yeah, watch those sticky little fingers, okay? I don't want you getting yourself in trouble."

[jack_artful]

"Naw, won't - that's why they call me the Artful Dodger, eh? A-cause of all the dodgin'." He grinned, tucking one arm behind his back and waving the other one graciously in a facsimile of a fancy bow.