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Post by Shamrock O'Shea on May 25, 2009 23:09:22 GMT -5
"Yeah, luck alright..."
Shamrock could feel the tension coming from Tumbler; if he had to guess, he'd guess that this kid wasn't going to be a very good loser, if he lost. He watched Tumbler shoot again and not get any marbles. Shamrock picked up his shooter again and shot. This time he knocked 3 marbles out and bumped one marble to the edge of the circle. He picked up the 3 marbles and placed them with the other two in front of him. Then, he looked at Tumbler and waited for him to take his turn...
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Post by tumble on May 27, 2009 16:41:00 GMT -5
Tumbler's brown eyes watched the marbles, a determined scowl on his face. He had to do better, he couldn't lose all his marbles, definitely not to fresh picks like Shamrock. He had to just calm down and shoot, but there was something about this "lucky" boy that just made him angry, and you can't shoot marbles good when you're angry.
Tumbler glanced at Shamrock before picking up his white shooter and gritting his teeth. He shot and knocked one out, there, he could get his rythym back, he could, couldn't he? To anybody else, maybe marble games weren't important, but Tumbler wasn't good at much, but he knew marbles. Every where else he was in the way, at the marble ring he wasn't.
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Post by Shamrock O'Shea on May 28, 2009 19:49:12 GMT -5
Shamrock watched as Tumbler scowled, then saw him knock one marble out and then grit his teeth. Then Shamrock picked up his shooter, closed his eyes, and shot at the remaining marbles. When he opened his eyes, he noticed that he had knocked 3 marbles out. Shamrock looked at Tumbler, shrugged his shoulders, and half winced-half smiled politely.
This kid probably did not like losing, especially to a new player like him. Shamrock felt bad about beating Tumbler, but he couldn't help it. He had been a lucky kid ever since he could remember. There was nothing he could do, Tumbler was probably not going to be happy with him when this game was done. Shamrock knew what was probably coming. So much for his promise to Pallet and Byron...
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Post by tumble on May 28, 2009 22:31:47 GMT -5
Tumbler watched in anger and dismay as Shamrock shot his last three marbles out of the ring. Ten marbles to his...one? He lost half his marbles in one game! Marbles he had earned over the whole entire year!
He felt angrier than ever, as he watched Shamrock smile and take his last few marbles. He wanted to throw a fit, to punch kick and rail the kids head into the ground. He was positively livid. His fists were clenched, his brown eyes narrowed, but he stopped. The kid had won fair and square hadn't he? Tumbler knew that if he beat up the kid he would be no better than the Delancey brothers. He would only make himself lower.
He sighed and then looked down at the marbles. The kid had really shot a great game, brilliant really. A small smile graced his features. "I...Good game. You can take my marbles, you deserve them..." That was the hardest sentence Tumbler had to say in his whole entire life.
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Post by Shamrock O'Shea on May 30, 2009 21:32:39 GMT -5
Shamrock watched Tumbler's mood change from annoyed to angry. He took a deep breath and winced, waiting for Tumbler's first shot at him... Then, to his disbelief, he saw Tumbler smile.
"I...Good game. You can take my marbles, you deserve them..."
Shamrock knew how much it probably took for Tumbler to swallow his pride and give up all his marbles, instead of fighting (because he struggled with that himself). Shamrock smiled and stuck his hand out towards Tumbler, "How about I keep the shooter and you can have the rest of your marbles back...? Besides, you were just teaching me how to play. It didn't count as a real game so I can't keep them anyways... Plus, I don't like using my Irish Luck against friends..." Shamrock hoped Tumbler would accept all his marbles back, and his friendship. He didn't want Tumbler to think he felt bad, but Shamrock could just tell by his disappointment at losing that these marbles meant a lot to him...
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Post by tumble on May 30, 2009 22:18:44 GMT -5
"How about I keep the shooter and you can have the rest of your marbles back...? Besides, you were just teaching me how to play. It didn't count as a real game so I can't keep them anyways... Plus, I don't like using my Irish Luck against friends..."
Tumbler started to object again, before hearing Shamrock out, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Sure, keep your shooter. You can practice, and I sure as heck will practice, and then we'll play again real soon who really is the best shooter." Tumbler grinned widely, shaking Shamrock's hand.
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Post by Shamrock O'Shea on Jun 1, 2009 21:24:44 GMT -5
"Sure, keep your shooter. You can practice, and I sure as heck will practice, and then we'll play again real soon who really is the best shooter."
Shamrock grinned, "We could team up sometime maybe, and we could win lots more marbles. They don't call me Shamrock for nothing..." Shamrock was glad to have finally made a friend; maybe now he wouldn't have to hang around his sister and Byron all the time. He could be with kids his own age. Shamrock stood up and brushed the dirt off his knees, waiting for Tumbler's answer.
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Post by tumble on Jun 2, 2009 19:17:16 GMT -5
"We could team up sometime maybe, and we could win lots more marbles. They don't call me Shamrock for nothing..."
Tumbler grinned, nodding energetically. He had been after Snipeshooter's special aggie for awhile, and his chances were looking a little brighter now. He looked Shamrock over again curiously.
"You from around heah? I ain't never seen you before. I'm in Hattan'. You sell the papes?" He pushed his backwards hat tighter on his head so it wouldn't fall off and smiled a toothy grin at Shamrock.
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Post by Shamrock O'Shea on Jun 2, 2009 19:55:13 GMT -5
"You from around heah? I ain't never seen you before. I'm in Hattan'. You sell the papes?"
"I'm originally from Ireland. Moved to New York a couple of years ago, and just recently moved into the Bronx with my sister, Pallet, and her friend, Byron... Yeah, I sell 'papes'. Just started going out myself though. Pallet, can be a bit too protective sometimes. I finally convinced her, well actually Byron did, to let me be..." Shamrock shrugged his shoulders and snickered, thinking about his sister. He picked up his shooter from the ground and put it in his pocket, then helped Tumbler gather up his marbles.
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Post by tumble on Jun 3, 2009 0:12:42 GMT -5
"I'm originally from Ireland. Moved to New York a couple of years ago, and just recently moved into the Bronx with my sister, Pallet, and her friend, Byron... Yeah, I sell 'papes'. Just started going out myself though. Pallet, can be a bit too protective sometimes. I finally convinced her, well actually Byron did, to let me be..."
Tumbler nodded at his explanation, and at his description of his sister, a smirk spread across his tan face. He almost had the image of a girl trying to hold Shamrock's hand all the time and fussing about him like crazy. Tumbler shook his head and chuckled before watching a few ladies make their way down Webster Avenue, and thought, it would be kinda nice to have a sister...Tumbler could hardly remember anything about his own family, maybe it was better that way, he couldn't miss them. Sometimes he thought about them still, and often wondered what they were like. He heaved a sigh, scratching at a Miskito bite on his neck. Guess he would never know.
He took his marbles from Shamrock with a grateful smile. He wrinkled his nose in disappointment, it was getting closer to evening, the sun would be setting eventually. He hated the fact that he had to leave his new friend. He guessed there would be other days though. He gathered up his newspapers he hadn't sold and scratched his head, he had forgotten about those, he guessed he would just forgo supper for tonight, get an extra roll from the nuns in the morning. Life on the streets was unpredictable, you took life as it came.
He spit in his hand and held it out for Shamrock, a smile on his face, his brown eyes twinkling. "I guess I'll see you around, I'd better get back to my own turf before the thugs come after me, we'll play again." He grinned, gesturing to the marbles.
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Post by Shamrock O'Shea on Jun 3, 2009 15:26:03 GMT -5
"I guess I'll see you around, I'd better get back to my own turf before the thugs come after me, we'll play again."
Shamrock spit in his own hand and took Tumbler's. "Yeah, sounds good. See ya around... Oh, and watch yourself going home, I've been hearing things lately..." Shamrock stuck his hands in his pockets and headed down the alley way and out onto the street. He better go find his sister before she got worried...
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Post by sebastian on Jun 29, 2009 20:54:54 GMT -5
[NEW DAY]
It was only half an hour into Sebastian's shift and he had already slipped out for a cigarette, leaving one very confused and hungry couple waiting to be seated. In Sebastian's opinion, the two could stand to miss a meal or two. He was doing them a favor.
Taking a drag, Sebastian rolled the smoldering bud between his thumb and forefinger. Peaking his head out from the alley, Sebastian saw a newsboy yelling headlines. The boy's voice felt like an ice-pick prodding at his brain. Sebastian was infuriated--this was the one place he could go and not be annoyed to the point where leaping of the Brooklyn Bridge seemed preferable.
Stalking up to the boy, he rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a dollar. "Take it." He ordered. The boy's face light up and his chubby fingers reached towards the bill. Pulling it back, Sebastian leaned so his face was level with the boys, "You can take this if you promise to leave. Okay? You go--" Sebastian waved his arm to the right, "--many, many blocks away, alright? Very far away."
Despite the boy's apparent confusion, he clearly was not as dense as his vacant expression might suggest. Taking the dollar, the boy gripped his papers and darted off down the block. Standing up straight, Sebastian tossed his spent cigarette to the gutter and adjusted his overcoat.
"Well worth it." He breathed, nodding curtly.
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Post by Peaches Carington on Jun 30, 2009 10:38:00 GMT -5
Peaches stood a ways down the street and watched the interaction between a newsboy and some man. She saw the man give the boy a dollar and say something, then the boy grabbed his papers and took off down the street. Peaches walked up to the man.
"Well worth it." He breathed, nodding curtly.
Peaches chuckled a little to herself and replied in her southern accent, "You definitely made that boys day, darlin'."
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Post by sebastian on Jul 3, 2009 1:47:35 GMT -5
Sebastian's momentary reverie was broken by a woman's approach. She had a friendly, pretty face: the sort that often irritated Sebastian when they were unwelcome. He could not quite place what grated him about her; perhaps she looked a bit too much like a past lover. Few of Sebastian's romantic entanglements ended well and, with an attitude like his, it was no wonder why.
"You definitely made that boys day, darlin'."
Sebastian glanced from the girl to the receding figure of the boy, eyebrows furrowed. Tugging at his sleeves and straightening his collar, he sighed, "Not my intent." Sebastian wondered vaguely if this girl's accent gave her as much grief as his own gave him. He came to the conclusion it could not possibly, as hers was sickeningly charming and his bordered on a half-swallowed grunt--or so he had been told.
"Look, if you're looking for das Restaurant, you've missed it--s'the door a block back. It has a sign, you know." Sebastian doubted she was looking for L'apetit and all the better for her for currently no one would be there to seat her. He could not suppress a smirk at the idea of many angry customers filling the waiting room.
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Post by Peaches Carington on Jul 5, 2009 20:47:25 GMT -5
Peaches, noticing the man annoyance at her simple comment and pretty much her very presence, she frowned at first. Obviously, this man liked his solitude but, she was naturally a friendly person and liked meeting new people, no matter if they were friendly people or not. Each individual intrigued her. And, someone like this guy, with his handsome features and tall stature, needed to lighten up.
"Not my intent."
Clearly seeing that the man was irritated, she put on one of her sweetest smiles, just out of spite, "Well, darlin', whether it was your intent or not, you've just made that boy's day..."
"Look, if you're looking for das Restaurant, you've missed it--s'the door a block back. It has a sign, you know."
Yes, he was annoyed by her presence, she realized by his poor attempt at trying to get rid of her. She wasn't dismissed so easily; growing up with three older brothers she learned that. Peaches chuckled to herself, "I'm not illiterate, I can read. I know where the restaurant is...." She decided that if he was gonna be unfriendly, she was at least going to have fun with it. She may be friendly, but she sure could be feisty when the time called for it.
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