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Post by Joe on Oct 17, 2008 17:10:22 GMT -5
I wouldn't mind showing the way meself
Joe leaned against a near by tree and inhale deeply from his cigarette.
"By all means love, take a swing. He's just sittin dere." Joe motioned to Mark on the ground."I tink he's still tryin ta understand all da insults we're trowin at him. All da big words and what not." Joe just smirked at Fighters comment. They thought alike and man when they were together they were bound to raise hell. Which just happens to be one of Joe's favorite things to do when he wasnt doing anything else.
I have to agree with you there
"Always a wise choice." Joe grinned unapologetically at Fighter. "I'm usually right." Joe winked and shot Mark a disgusted look, he had yet to respond to any of the insults or you know the expert fist in the face. Joe could understand that, his punches usually left people speechless, it was a gift. He smirked at his own thoughts. "Whats wrong wit dis git?" Joe asked
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Post by Fighter Mallory on Oct 20, 2008 11:11:15 GMT -5
"By all means love, take a swing. He's just sittin dere. I tink he's still tryin ta understand all da insults we're trowin at him. All da big words and what not."
Fighter smirked, her gaze dropping to the silent boy on the ground. "I think we stunned him into silence, either that or he's gonna start crying again and go running off. Hopefully to Queens or hell even 'hattan."
Honestly Fighter could not stand boys like Mark. How could he just sit there and not say a word edgewise or stick up for himself? He really did need to grow a pair because it was getting old.
"Always a wise choice. I'm usually right."
With a shake of her head, Fight pushed her hair back and gave Joe a smirk. "Of course you are oh smart one."
Whats wrong wit dis git?"
Fighter shrugged, "No idea, what'd you knock him so hard he can't do nothing but sit there? I think I like the idea of that." With a laugh Fighter glanced around and then looked back at Mark.
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Post by Max on Nov 19, 2008 16:28:50 GMT -5
((New Day))
How he hated those... screaming children, shouting at the top of their lungs in hopes to catch the attention of some innocent passerby, before stealing their spare change. Those idiotic little balls of energy chasing each other down the streets and trying to squeeze the quarters out of business men with more important things to do. He refused to be one of them ever again. If it hadn't been for his brother, he never would have been one in the first place. They were pathetic, pointless, pitiful little brats who were nothing but beggars with a product. And what product? A newspaper that they did nothing to create. Children like them were better off dead.
As Maximilian strolled down the path of Brooklyn, notorious for being the toughest of all the newsie boroughs, he wasn't the least bit scared. He knew enough of the newsies to know that the Brooklyn leader may be tough, but those under him were just ruled by power. With a bit of luck, and muscle of his own, he was certain he could get them to obey him. But that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted his brother. Max had grown up since his brother had ruled over him, and though he may never stand eye to eye with the giant that his brother is, he is 100% certain that what he lacks in height he makes up for fighting talent, brains, and strength. Max wasn't dumb. He was just quiet. Strike up a conversation with him you'll discover this quickly.
He spit on the ground in disgust hearing some kid call out a false headline. So much for the childhood innocence and honesty. Stupid kids.
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Post by Danny Hughes on Nov 19, 2008 18:06:30 GMT -5
Danny strolled down the path, flicking the butt of his cigarette and returning his hand to his pocket. He would take cold weather any day over the sweltering heat of the summer. The park was really a place for the younger newsies to sell, and today was no different. There were several children calling out headlines from various corners and spots throughout the park.
As he passed by a particularly moody looking man he did a quick sidestep, having missed being spit on by mere inches. "Oi, watch it," Danny wasn't confrontational, and assumed the guy didn't intend to spit on him.
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Post by Max on Nov 20, 2008 3:40:18 GMT -5
Max didn't speak. He had nothing to say... what to apologize? What's the need? Instead he looked over his shoulder at Danny without a word and just looked at him for a second. Max's black eyes took in Danny completely. Street scum, he assumed, a newsie... even their title seemed grotesque. The cap and clothes were enough to seal it for him. Probably a Brooklyn kid who'll get angry at Max's silence. Let him. Max was anything but intimidated, tough as nails type, and wouldn't boast about it. Why boast a fact? It'll come out eventually.
Once Max had had enough of the boy, as he decided to label him he turned and continued walking again. He needed nothing from a newsie.
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Post by Danny Hughes on Nov 21, 2008 20:51:09 GMT -5
Danny couldn't have been more amused by the look he received. There were few people in Brooklyn ballsy enough to sneer at the newsies there, but Danny was the laid back anomaly of the borough. As he turned and continued walking he let out an audible laugh as he took a drag of his cigarette.
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Post by Max on Nov 24, 2008 3:47:01 GMT -5
Max did not retaliate, only shook his head at the boy's stupidity. He wouldn't speak, and if the boy wanted to take up something with him, he may. Though Max didn't foresee it after this encounter. Max would just as rather move on and never see nor speak to this newsie again. He continued not saying a word, not doing a thing, but walking away from the newsie he'd run into. What Danny choose to do about it was his choice, Max just kept walking.
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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Jul 15, 2009 21:34:27 GMT -5
*New Day | CLOSED THREAD* Lucky had gone around telling the Brooklynites about the patrols and to stick together. On a sigh she closed her eyes and leaned against one of the trees off of the path. She folded her arms and looked up at the sky. She'd gone all over Brooklyn and even to Manhattan to let the Brooks kids know what was going on.
"Damn it... " she wished Spot would be a genius and show up, she was really hating being responsible. She and Smalls didn't do so well but hey-- Brooks was still in one piece. |
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Post by clyde on Jul 15, 2009 22:04:01 GMT -5
Clyde flicked his cigarette as the girl approached, diminishing the only visible spark of his presence in the shadow of the trees. He nearly chuckled at his luck, what kind of girl wandered alone in the park at night? One more for the factory, his boss would be pleased.
Coming up beside her quietly he quickly grabbed her by the front of the shirt, pulling her from the tree and forcefully slamming her back against the ground. "You wanna come home with me sweet'art?" He sneered before landing a hard punch to her face, something that normally left his victims unconscious and easy to carry.
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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Jul 15, 2009 22:09:54 GMT -5
When Lucky hit the ground the punch only left her face swollen and her angry, her eyes flashed and she looked around. Don't ever mess with Brooklyn. She edged herself up and bite his hand hard and kicked him as hard as she could making a break for it. This was why she was supposed to be with a group! |
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Post by clyde on Jul 15, 2009 22:29:00 GMT -5
Clyde growled as she bit him and back handed her with his other hand. However; before he had a chance to retaliate further her foot connected with his gut and he briefly lost his control, rolling slightly to his side and heaving for breath. When she began to run he quickly gathered his senses, realizing the danger he would be in should she escape-- he hadn't changed out of his uniform, after all.
With a leap he again tackled her, smashing her face into the dirt and leaning in close as he spoke. "You're comin' with me love, whether dead or alive, it's up to you."
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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Jul 15, 2009 22:34:31 GMT -5
She growled and tried to throw her elbow into his face, her stomach hurting her face bruised and she growled as she rolled over and snarled at him. "Rather you be dead!" she kicked him hard again as she tried to pull away from him, she was far to stubborn to go down and die. Or let herself be taken away. She caught the sight of the badge and grit her teeth as she scrambled up to get away from him. |
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Post by clyde on Jul 16, 2009 17:49:59 GMT -5
Her elbow connected with his nose and he cursed as his blood began dripping down his face. "You little rat!" At her remark he sneered, but it was short lived. Her kick caught him right where it hurts, and after a dramatic wail left him momentarily crumpled in defeat.
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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Jul 17, 2009 2:15:38 GMT -5
She didn't even stop she just ran, picking up her feet and taking off at the pace she could manage. She was upset, angry and bloody. She had to get back to the lodging house.
Bloody ass had a badge
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Post by clyde on Jul 20, 2009 22:58:26 GMT -5
Clyde could do nothing but watch her go, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand and spitting angrily. As she disappeared into the darkness he leaned back against a tree and sighed heavily. She would squeal for sure, she must have seen his badge, but then, who would believe a street rat above an officer of the law? He snorted outright, shifting his weight from the tree and sauntering off confidently. Believe a dirty homeless girl over him? Unlikely.
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