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Post by pupdawkinseitz on Apr 28, 2009 21:19:23 GMT -5
Pup had finished selling early. He had a pretty easy time selling, what with his big sad eyes and hangdog expression. He had an easy time selling, with his young age. He wasn't particularly a great actor, but one miserable look towards the soft hearted lady of the city and the papers flew out of his hands.
He had been upstairs, searching the bunk room for his stray kitten, hoping she hadn't run away. He decided to go look downstairs, cuz sometimes it hid under the couch or by the front desk. He wasn't supposed to have a kitty, but Kloppman had let him keep it as long as it didn't tear anything up.
Pup was looking around by the couch, when he noticed an older girl with dark black hair sitting there, a relaxed smile on her face as she closed her eyes, leaning against the folds. Pup stared at her intently, before climbing up next to her, and gingerly reached out to poke her. He wanted to make sure she was alive.
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Post by Brook LaRue on Apr 28, 2009 21:23:51 GMT -5
She swatted at his hands, and didn't bother to open her eyes. That was just rude wasn't it? To go and poke at people. Then again be it anyone else she would have done the same. She'd swatted at Blink too.
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Post by pupdawkinseitz on Apr 28, 2009 21:30:43 GMT -5
Pup was surprised when the girl suddenly moved and swatted at his hands. Out of habit, he ducked and slipped, rolling off the couch and landing on the wooden floor with a thump. He poked his head back up, and rubbed his head.
"Ouch!"
Yeah, she's definitely alive. He thought, nodding his head and giving her a little pout of a scowl, but his blue eyes twinkled.
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Post by Brook LaRue on Apr 29, 2009 20:21:45 GMT -5
Brook didn't seem overly concerned really as she sat there with her eyes closed, "Serves you right for sneaking up on a person.." that was all she said really.
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Post by Racetrack Higgins on Apr 29, 2009 20:54:08 GMT -5
Racetrack slammed the front door to the lodging house and was almost surprised to see Brook sitting on the sofa. She was just the person he had been looking for--well, almost. He couldn't find that good-for-nothing brother of hers anywhere. Brook looked to be almost asleep, but Racetrack wouldn't be bothered with that. He was out a whole lot more than two bits, and he would beat it out of one of 'em--at this point, he didn't care which.
"Ay! Frenchie!" he barked, and strode over, scowling. "That bum you call a brother owes me a whole mess of money! If I don' get it, I'm pullin' it right outta his--" He stopped and noticed a very tiny newsie standing nearby. "Ear," he finished blandly. He didn't swear in front of the little ones. Let Specs corrupt them. They were already corrupt enough.
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Post by Brook LaRue on Apr 29, 2009 20:59:49 GMT -5
Her eyes opened when she heard something very loud--- calling her french. She groaned and stood up slowly, brushing her hand over her skirt before she smacked Race in the head with her hat. That was just her way really, "How many times do I have to tell you, che. I'm NOT french!" She was a Creole, sure her family actually had money and the like but since her father married a Cajun he was written out of the will. It was all complicated.
She sighed and folded her arms. "I don't know what you expect me to do, che. I haven't seen Mason lately." She had actually been looking for him, rent was due at the apartment and she didn't have enough to stay off the landlord.
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Post by Smalls on Jun 19, 2009 6:46:33 GMT -5
-- New Day -- Smalls pushed open the front door a bit forcefully, a sign of her otherwise fairly well concealed tension. She paused as she stepped through the door, glancing around at the familir room and breathing in the familir musty scent. It had been a while since she'd come to the Duane St. Lodging House, but there was a time when she would frequent the location, managing to lose most of her money each night night to that damn Racetrack Higgins. She nearly grinned at the momories, losing her money was worth the good company-- the Manhattan boys always managed to leave everyone laughing. Taking a few steps toward the stairs she glanced up, assuming someone had to be here at 5 o'clock on a Tuesday evening. "Hey Jack!" she yelled, sighing when there was no immediate response. Heaving another sigh she dropped down on the sofa, pulling out a cigarette and leaning her head back. It was important. She could wait. |
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Post by Jack Kelly on Jun 26, 2009 20:58:03 GMT -5
"Hey Jack!"
He opened his eyes and sighed heavily. Now what? Whoever it was, they were lucky he hadn't actually been sleeping. Granted he'd been trying to, but without much success. It looked like he wasn't about to for a while longer, at this point. He groaned and got to his feet, running a hand through his hair and scanning the room for his boots. Normally he wouldn't have cared, but Jack had read somewhere that out West everyone always put their boots on in public (something about dignity or honor or something) and had made a habit out of it.
He quickly tied his laces and went downstairs. "Who's all there?" he said, and looked over the banister to see Smalls making herself at home. She was smoking, and Jack smirked at the sight. "Y'know, not even Race smokes downstairs," he said, unsure if it was completely true. He made his way over to where Smalls was sitting. "So. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
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Post by Smalls on Jun 27, 2009 6:45:54 GMT -5
She smirked, slowly removing the cigarette from her mouth and snubbing it out on the sole of her shoe. Her relationship with Jack Kelly was much like that of two young siblings; bickering, fighting, and general loathing at times, but still family. Heaving a small sigh she brought her feet down from the coffee table, sitting forward with her elbows resting on her knees. "We got a problem Jack," she paused, removing her hat as she glanced up at him. "We all got a problem." Everyone knew that Manhattan was taking the brunt of the attack, already losing more kids than anyone else, but up until several days ago it had appeared that Brooklyn remained untouched. Well, things had changed.
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Post by Jack Kelly on Jun 27, 2009 10:47:59 GMT -5
"We got a problem Jack. We all got a problem."
Jack had the feeling it had something to do with the dissapearing kids. Many people hadn't been talking about anything else. There wouldn't be much of a reason else why Smalls would show up so grim in Manhattan (Jack hadn't been expecting Spot to make the effort to come here, so either Smalls or Lucky made up for the Brooklyn leader's presence). "This about what I think it is, Smalls?" If it was, Jack was grateful for the action being taken, but also slightly indignant. Why didn't anyone help out when it was just Queens and Manhattan kids gone missing? Now, there were even more Manhattan kids gone, and although Jack didn't know about the other boroughs, "We all got a problem" sounded like it had hapened even in Brooklyn. They should have nipped it in the bud.
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Post by Smalls on Jun 27, 2009 11:39:01 GMT -5
She sighed, tucking her cap back on her head. "I talked to Prince, by my count we're pushin' ten kids now, up an' vanished." She got up from the sofa, slowly pacing around the small room. It wasn't that Smalls had lost anyone personally close to her, but the whole thing was getting to her. Sure, the boroughs had their squabbles, but when someone came at them from the outside, none of that mattered. "There's gonna be a meetin', at seven." She sighed again, leaning against the desk. "Plan is ta leave some kids in charge, tough kids, and keep everyone in groups. Don' want a repeat of last time, ya know?" Her lips pressed together in a thin line at the memory and she looked over at Jack, something resembling an apologetic look in her eyes. While they all bickered amongst themselves, kids got snatched right out from under them, and nearly all of them from Manhattan.
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Post by Jack Kelly on Jul 2, 2009 11:55:18 GMT -5
"I talked to Prince, by my count we're pushin' ten kids now, up an' vanished."
Jack had been trying to keep up a blank expression, as was almost customary, but at this news his eyes widened in shock. Ten kids? Jack pressed his lips into a thin line before recovering his composure and hardening his expression again. "Brooklyn too? Bronx?" he asked laconically.
"There's gonna be a meetin', at seven. Plan is ta leave some kids in charge, tough kids, and keep everyone in groups. Don' want a repeat of last time, ya know?"
Jack gave a curt nod, already thinking of the boys he would put in charge. He'd choose one to stay around the lodging house to make sure nobody left by their lonesome, and two out into Manhattan to try and pick up any stragglers wandering around by themselves. Jack doubted that any of the kids would be caught on their own after what had happened, but he needed to make sure. What would it say about him as a leader if he had even more kids vanish?
"I hear ya, Smalls. Seven. You stayin' here 'till then or headin' back?" He didn't know if Smalls had someone waiting for her to walk back with. He doubted she would find it necessary, but who knew?
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Post by Smalls on Jul 2, 2009 17:57:37 GMT -5
"Brooklyn too? Bronx?"
She nodded grimly, shifting her weight off the desk and heading toward the door.
"I hear ya, Smalls. Seven. You stayin' here 'till then or headin' back?"
"I'm goin' home, gonna keep watch," she paused as she pulled open the door, leaning on the handle as she looked back over her shoulder. "We're sending Danny. Good kid, he lost someone." As she added the last bit she glanced down, her jaw tensing at the thought. Without another word she was out the door, heading down dark streets alone. She dared them to come after her.
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Post by Jack Kelly on Jul 2, 2009 21:07:07 GMT -5
"I'm goin' home, gonna keep watch. We're sending Danny. Good kid, he lost someone."
Jack nodded once without another word. He watched Smalls until the darkness obscured her before closing the door and turning back into the lodging house. His boys would be upstairs for the most part, he knew that much. He worried, though, about all those loners and stragglers he had going around. Who knew how many of them there were. Jack waited a minute, trying to draw out some kind of plan in his head...something comprehensive, something that (miracle of miracles) actually worked as well as it did in his head. He was interrupted by someone on the stairs--probably a boy looking for something to eat. He stopped him, and told him to go right back upstairs. "Tell..." Jack paused for only a moment. "Tell Blink, Race and Specs to get down here. Now."
"Specs ain't here," the boy answered.
Jack swore under his breath. Where in the hell was Specs? "Fine. Dutchy. Get 'em all down here, a'right?" The kid nodded and ran up the stairs. Jack leaned against the banister and ran a hand down his face with a sigh. It was around five o'clock, and it was going to be a long two hours.
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Post by Kid Blink on Jul 2, 2009 21:36:04 GMT -5
A few moments later, Blink came thundering down the stairs at full speed. Hey, when the leader calls, he would come a-runnin'. That's what leaders were for, right?
Coming to a halt in front of a harried-looking Jack, Blink stood at rigid attention, throwing up an overly emphasized salute.
"Kid Blink at your service, Cowboy!" he declared.
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thanks admin!