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Post by Administrator on Apr 28, 2009 9:27:33 GMT -5
Come sit in a nice cozy booth and watch the city go by...
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Post by wendy on Apr 28, 2009 21:44:36 GMT -5
(For Kid Blink)
Wendy sat in a booth, kicking her legs back and forth, her chin resting in her palm, a far off look on her slightly tan face. Her sunhat was sitting on the booth seat next to her, as way of protection from the sun. Young ladies of proper upbringing weren't supposed to have a tan. Wendy was still trying to get rid of hers from her Kansas days. She would run around and play with her brothers in the sun, through their father's fields, and she would sit in the sunlit hayloft reading for hours.
She had just finished lunch, and was sitting in the booth, while her mistress from the blind school, ol' lady Ada. She had gone to use the bathroom, and on her way back found a couple ladies from her garden society club, and once the conversation got on the ball, it kept on rolling. Wendy sat dully, her eyes fixed on the street and passing by buggies, the sunlit semi shadows playing on her face, but she couldn't see them, there was nothing interesting about it. Her days weren't interesting, they were routine. The schedule: Blackness.
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Post by Kid Blink on Apr 28, 2009 23:30:07 GMT -5
Blink, coming in at the end of a long selling day, came trotting into the restaurant and approached the counter.
"Hey, barkeep! A bowl of the house specialty!" he demanded diplomatically, tipping his hat to one side and giving the woman behind the counter his most charming grin. "And a little haste, if you please. Need something to keep my skin clinging to my bones, yeah?"
He traded some of the day's wages for a bowl of steaming hot vegetable stew, and carried the bowl away, planning to take a seat near the door. All the better to make a quick getaway if need be, seeing how some of the Bronx newsies were still holding grudges against Manhattan newsies (and vice versa, naturally). Plans changed quickly, though, when he spied a girl seated by herself in one of the booths, staring out the window.
Shifting his soup bowl from one hand to the other, he removed his hat and tucked it in his back pocket, ruffled and smoothed his hair, and shook out his cuffs. Then he made his move.
"Hi there, cutie," he greeted, coming up to the girl's table. "Anyone sitting here?" Without waiting for an answer, he slid into the bench across from her. "Stu makes the best stew, doesn't he? Or maybe it goes the other way, maybe the stew makes Stu. Who knows?" Setting his spoon down, he cleared his throat and extended his hand across the table. "I don't think we've been introduced. Not sure I've seen you around, even. They call me Kid Blink."
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Post by wendy on Apr 29, 2009 21:26:48 GMT -5
Wendy started as a voice broke through her wayward thoughts and her eyes snapped in the general direction that the voice was coming from. It was the voice of a stranger, well every voice came from a stranger really, a stranger of darkness. She shook her head, she had to stop thinking like that...but it was the truth. She was protesting herself silently in her head, but stopped when the boy called her Cutie.
"Hi there, cutie, Anyone sitting here?"
She wasn't quite sure whether to frown upon being called a cutie, because it might be considered inappropriate, but the way he said it, she couldn't help but feel a smile starting to play on her slightly tanned face. She heard the sound of him sliding onto the bench across from her. She didn't really care. She was so bored, she didn't mind. She tipped her head to the side slightly to listen for Ada's shrill voice. She nodded, the coast was clear. Mistress Ada was still rambling on and on. That was the funny thing, Ada broke so many rules, and with a scatterbrain like hers, it was surprising that she was a teacher at a fine upstanding school. But she was stern about her students obeying rules.
"Stu makes the best stew, doesn't he? Or maybe it goes the other way, maybe the stew makes Stu. Who knows?"
She shrugged, a slightly curious look on her face. His voice was very nice sounding to her, clear and bold, energetic and daring, smooth. She was pretty knowing that he probably wasn't very shy and sweet talked to just about any pretty girl he saw, so she couldn't quite gush or blush, swooning like a prissy schoolgirl.
"I don't think we've been introduced. Not sure I've seen you around, even. They call me Kid Blink."
"No, perhaps you haven't. I know I haven't seen you," She could almost laugh at how true that statement was. "Kid Blink, well, that's a fascinating name. It has a nice ring to it. I'm Johanna James, but you may call me Wendy. I don't really think I fit the name Johanna very much, too bothersome. Wendy's my middle name. My brothers use to call me Wendy Jo, but nobody's called me that in awhile."
She smiled slightly, a far off twinkle in her light blue eyes. She could hear he was holding out his hand, and she reached out her hand, finding it and shook it gently, a soft smile still on her face, her eyes never completely meeting Kid Blink's.
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Post by Kid Blink on Apr 30, 2009 0:48:36 GMT -5
"I'm Johanna James, but you may call me Wendy. I don't really think I fit the name Johanna very much, too bothersome. Wendy's my middle name. My brothers use to call me Wendy Jo, but nobody's called me that in awhile."
When her hand found his, Blink swiftly leaned forward and kissed the air above her knuckles in a gentlemanly fashion (or at least a parody of a gentlemanly fashion).
"Quite the pleasure to meet you," he said cheekily. "I do love it when you beauties of the high society come out and mingle among us common folk. Life wouldn't be worth living for a street urchin like me without the promise of an occasional glimpse of your porcelain beauty."
He was laying it on thick as lard and he knew it, yet he couldn't seem to find that off-switch everyone was always asking if he possessed. She seemed to be taking it in good spirits--she kept up her slight smile, anyway. Even if she wasn't meeting his eyes.
Blink's brow furrowed for a moment as he realized she was looking in the vicinity of his neck. First looking down to see if he'd spilled something on his shirt (nope), he quietly leaned to one side, then the other. When her eyes didn't follow his movements, it dawned on him.
"Oh!" he said with a chuckle. "You're blind!"
He suddenly came face-to-face with that presumed-missing off-switch, and clapped a hand over his mouth.
"I mean," he sputtered out quickly, trying to work what little damage control he possessed, "I mean, oh, you're blind, because I was wondering if I'd spilled something on my shirt or something--but that really doesn't make it sound any less insulting does it, so I think maybe I'll just slide right back out of here if you don't mind, unless you'd like to slap me before I go?"
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Post by wendy on Apr 30, 2009 17:21:59 GMT -5
"I do love it when you beauties of the high society come out and mingle among us common folk. Life wouldn't be worth living for a street urchin like me without the promise of an occasional glimpse of your porcelain beauty."
Wendy raised her eyebrow slightly, but her smile still lingered. He was definitely shooting high, and maybe spreading it on a little too much, but it was conversation at least.
"Oh! You're blind!"
Wendy felt her heart ache as he uttered those words with a slight laugh. She didn't know why, but when somebody called you blind, it just kind of hit deep. She listened to him ramble an apology.
"I mean, oh, you're blind, because I was wondering if I'd spilled something on my shirt or something--but that really doesn't make it sound any less insulting does it, so I think maybe I'll just slide right back out of here if you don't mind, unless you'd like to slap me before I go?"
Wendy shook her head, speaking up, swallowing anger or hurt. He didn't mean to, he didn't know.
"No, I'm not going to slap you. You can stay if you want. But if you want to leave, leave. Why would you want to sit with a blind girl when you probably know so many other "porcelain" beauties. Let me tell you something though. I'm not high class. I don't have a cent to my name. My father isn't some governor, he's a farmer from Kansas. My family's been working day and night to send me here, earning every cent they can. All because of me."
She hated that fact, that they spent so much money to send her to a fine institution, and she couldn't help out at all. They were struggling for her. She felt awful, that all she wanted was to be back home. So she put her chin up, and tried to do what her family wanted done for her, trying to put self pity and remorse aside.
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Post by Kid Blink on May 2, 2009 15:32:04 GMT -5
"No, I'm not going to slap you. You can stay if you want. But if you want to leave, leave. Why would you want to sit with a blind girl when you probably know so many other "porcelain" beauties. Let me tell you something though. I'm not high class. I don't have a cent to my name. My father isn't some governor, he's a farmer from Kansas. My family's been working day and night to send me here, earning every cent they can. All because of me."
Blink considered it a lucky break that the girl was blind at the moment; meant she couldn't see the blush that had crept up on him. He liked to take the Mickey out of people, sure, and was known to push a little too far sometimes, but he'd never outright insult someone intentionally. (Well... unless he had it coming.) Especially not a girl.
"Hey, look," he said once she'd finished her rant, "I'm sorry. Sometimes I'm a little thick. If you're not anxious to see the last of me--" (He paused, wondering if he'd just made a second faux pas in the sight-themed phrase, but decided to bear on.) "--there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Maybe you haven't picked up on it yet, but I don't have many porcelain beauties on call. I'm just a poor ol' newsboy."
Since she hadn't expressed a desire to reach across the table and slap him, he picked up his soup spoon and stirred his stew quietly.
"In fact, maybe we have a little more in common than you realize."
He leaned across the table again and took her hand, then brought it up to his face, settling her fingertips against the worn leather of his eye patch.
"Not blind," he said softly, "but halfway there."
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Post by wendy on May 2, 2009 16:46:39 GMT -5
"Hey, look. I'm sorry. Sometimes I'm a little thick. If you're not anxious to see the last of me----there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Maybe you haven't picked up on it yet, but I don't have many porcelain beauties on call. I'm just a poor ol' newsboy."
Wendy nodded, looking out the window a little defiantly, thinking over what Kid Blink had just said. She heard the sincerity in his voice, she just wasn't sure, until his last statement. A small smile crept over her face.
"Oh, hush now. You make it sound like being a "poor ol' newsboy" is the worst thing you could be. You may be poor, but you don't sound old to me. And my little brother, Shawn, he always wanted to be a newsboy. He hates his farm work. I told him being a newsboy was a chore too, that he would have to work at it. And he told me, "Naw, that's different." And newsboys are important, I remember reading about the strike in the newspaper, all the way in Kansas."
She still wasn't completely trusting of him, she just hadn't talked about little Shawn in so long. She looked down but her face snapped up with what he said next.
"In fact, maybe we have a little more in common than you realize."
She felt his rugged hand take hers gently, and he brought it up to his face. Her fingertips touched the worn leather and her breath caught.
"Not blind, but halfway there."
Wendy finally released her breath and her blue eyes showed compassion and bewilderment. "Oh...hm," She took a deep breath and there was silence for a long moment, until a soft smile spread across her face.
"I forgive you."
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Post by Kid Blink on May 5, 2009 21:18:27 GMT -5
"I forgive you."
Though she couldn't see it, Blink gave her one of his most charming grins. "And I forgive you, for being so beautiful that I lose all sense of decorum and decency!"
He took a noisy, inelegant slurp of his stew. "Ooh, what is this? Eggplant? I think it might be eggplant... Stu sure gets creative with his food, doesn't he? Have you tried the egg salad with cauliflower? It sounds god-awful, I know, but it's really good!"
Realizing that discussing Stu and his penchant for random application of vegetables made for lousy conversation, he switched gears. "So, are you here alone?"
((The views and opinions expressed in this post are those of the characters represented, and do not necessarily mirror the views of the poster. The poster can in no way vouch for the taste of egg salad and cauliflower. Sample at your own risk. And god be with you.))
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Post by wendy on May 5, 2009 21:30:56 GMT -5
"And I forgive you, for being so beautiful that I lose all sense of decorum and decency!"
She full out smiled, and it must have been the first time she had actually smiled since she had left home. She raised an eyebrow and remarked, "I wonder if you spend all your time coming up with these lines or if you're just a natural. I can't imagine what your headlines are like with a creative head like yours."
"Ooh, what is this? Eggplant? I think it might be eggplant... Stu sure gets creative with his food, doesn't he? Have you tried the egg salad with cauliflower? It sounds god-awful, I know, but it's really good!"
She laughed, first at his improper slurp and then how he went off about the eggplant. Kid Blink was an interesting person indeed. Wendy could only try to imagine what he looked like. She liked what she could hear of him, she knew he was handsome too. She just knew. He was so energetic, she just couldn't he;p but smile.
So, are you here alone?"
"No, Mistress Ada from the blind school I go to. Don't worry though, she's completely lost in conversation with some old garden club ladies. She won't pay one bit of attention to me, trust me. Nobody ever expects me to do anything. All I really do is stick to myself and read books or stare out the window. She won't glance my way for probably about another hour or so." Wendy smiled and shook her head, blowing a stray curl out of her face and then laughed, reaching for her sun hat.
"Look at this dreadful thing I have to wear." She let out a little giggle, not fond of the hat with big flowers tied to the sash.
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Post by Kid Blink on May 8, 2009 1:32:07 GMT -5
"No, Mistress Ada from the blind school I go to. Don't worry though, she's completely lost in conversation with some old garden club ladies. She won't pay one bit of attention to me, trust me. Nobody ever expects me to do anything. All I really do is stick to myself and read books or stare out the window. She won't glance my way for probably about another hour or so."
At the mention of Mistress Ada, Blink glanced furtively across the room, seeking out the woman most likely to be Wendy's matron, and felt himself tense just a bit. "She's... er, not going to come over and start beating me with her handbag if she sees me sitting here, will she? I get smacked with a handbag once or twice a week. It's not fun. I don't know what you girls put in your handbags, but those things are damn hard!"
"Look at this dreadful thing I have to wear."
Blink looked at the sun hat Wendy was worrying at with her fingers. He reached across the table and took it from her gently, bringing it closer for inspection. A typical sun hat, with a wide brim and a sash bearing an assortment of cloth flowers. In any other situation, this was the moment when Blink would set the hat on his own head and tie it in place, modeling it proudly. Given that the sight gag wouldn't play out too well with a blind audience, he passed up the chance, and instead went the straight route.
"It's not that bad. It's kind of pretty, really. Not exactly my style, but at least it looks decent. Better than this old thing." He fingered the brim of his own cap, frowning. After a moment, he explained, "This is the part where I usually take my hat off and drop it on the table in a cloud of dust. But given that there's food and lovely ladies like yourself around, that's probably not appropriate, is it? And also, I think if I drop it one more time, it just might fall apart on me..."
He reached across the table again and set the sun hat on Wendy's head. "I think it looks good on you," he said with a self-satisfied nod. He paused, fidgeting with his spoon for a moment. There was one more thing he wanted to say, but wasn't sure if he could find a proper way to say it. Technically, he was already way out of line, a newsie boy speaking to a society woman--born or created--without a chaperon. He couldn't really get any deeper. If she took offense, well, at least he was fast on his feet and had the advantage of sight; he could beat it and disappear if necessary.
"If you don't mind me saying so, though, I think the porcelain skin around here is overrated."
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Post by wendy on May 15, 2009 21:31:42 GMT -5
"She's... er, not going to come over and start beating me with her handbag if she sees me sitting here, will she? I get smacked with a handbag once or twice a week. It's not fun. I don't know what you girls put in your handbags, but those things are damn hard!"
Wendy laughed softly, her curls bouncing slightly, her blue eyes twinkling. "Don't worry, you could just use my sunhat to disguise yourself, you couldn't recognize anybody underneath all those flowers!"
"It's not that bad. It's kind of pretty, really. Not exactly my style, but at least it looks decent. Better than this old thing. This is the part where I usually take my hat off and drop it on the table in a cloud of dust. But given that there's food and lovely ladies like yourself around, that's probably not appropriate, is it? And also, I think if I drop it one more time, it just might fall apart on me..."
Wendy shook her head, laughing again. "Actually, I'm pretty used to dust. In Kansas, dust on the roads when we went for a ride in the wagon was as thick as butter."
"If you don't mind me saying so, though, I think the porcelain skin around here is overrated."
Wendy smiled softly, and took his hand in hers, just running her fingers over his palm before closing her fingers over his and a wide rebellious grin spread across her face. "To tell you the truth, neither do I. I'd much rather prefer a sun burned nose that's as red as a savage."
She loved Kid Blink's sense of humor almost as much as she liked hearing his voice. Nothing could stop the smile on her face. This was the first time she had actually really enjoyed herself since leaving Kansas.
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Post by Kid Blink on May 23, 2009 21:09:06 GMT -5
"To tell you the truth, neither do I. I'd much rather prefer a sun burned nose that's as red as a savage."
Blink grinned, giving her hand a light squeeze before pulling back. He hurriedly scoffed down the last few bites of his stew, tucked the hard roll into his pocket for later, and readjusted his cap.
He glanced quickly to Wendy's watcher, still talking to her friends, then looked back to Wendy. "You wanna get outta here?" he asked quietly. "You know, give the ol' lady the slip and head off? Nothing wrong with taking a little walk, right? You're a big girl, you can look after yourself. And what you can't look for... well, you got me there to see it for you. What do you say?"
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Post by wendy on May 23, 2009 23:42:35 GMT -5
"You wanna get outta here? You know, give the ol' lady the slip and head off? Nothing wrong with taking a little walk, right? You're a big girl, you can look after yourself. And what you can't look for... well, you got me there to see it for you. What do you say?"
Wendy's eyes lit up and her smile grew even wider. She didn't even have to think about that one. "I'd love to, c'mon!" She stood up and reached out for his hand, and then headed gaurdedly to the door, almost tip toeing, she was excited. Once they were out the door she laughed and then walked faster, ready for an adventure of some sorts, big or small.
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Post by matchstick on Jun 22, 2009 20:09:33 GMT -5
((New day for Peaches))
Matchstick walked into the restaurant, smiling, and smelled the fresh air. It smelled like... bread. He loved bread, and he wanted to get something to eat so bad, but he had no money. Matchstick's smile turned to a frown, and he looked down at his beaten up shoes with sadness. "A PENNY!" He spotted a shiny bronze-colored coin right next to his foot. As Matchstick slid into a booth, he was too happy to notice that everyone in the restaurant was staring at him because of the loud outburst.
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