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Post by Prince on Jul 25, 2007 4:05:15 GMT -5
Leaving town? Arriving? Just trying to sell some papes? well, you've come to the right place!
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Post by twich on Jan 30, 2008 15:59:16 GMT -5
Twich moved quickly and quietly through the crowds of people that swamped the platform. The train whistle blew. He covered his ears and watched the heavy iron horse move slowly away. His ticket he had saved up for carefully nestled in his pocket, for the train that just left. He sighed and hoped they would refund his, but he doubted it. So there he stood, no knowing what to do, in the huge crowd of people hustling about.
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Post by Fighter Mallory on Feb 1, 2008 10:14:14 GMT -5
Fighter made her way quickly and quietly through the crowd, occasionally dipping into someone's pocket. Only if they looked like they could afford to lose some of the weight in their pockets though. For a thief she had high moral values, for the most part anyway. She had to be really quiet about this, she'd stopped picking pockets years ago but life as a newsie just wasn't as fulfilling as working in a bar or picking pockets. Since she didn't plan on being a bar wench ever again, it was back to this.
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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Jul 30, 2008 17:50:32 GMT -5
"Blazing hell!" Miranda covered her ears as she heard someone screaming all over sam hill for some bloke named firecracker. She was having a smoke and enjoying the sound of the trains when she'd heard the girl start screaming. "Keep it down, crazy girl! You want the bulls coming to haul your ass, they patrol round here.."
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Post by firecracker on Jul 30, 2008 19:20:09 GMT -5
Fire was looking for Dragon, since he hadn't seen her at the Lodging House.
"Firecracker, Firecracker, FIRECRACKER!!"
He turned around at his sister's voice. He spotted her and ran up to her. "Dragon? Why the hell are ya out so late? Dis is Brooklyn ya know, ya can't go wanderin' alone at night."
"Keep it down, crazy girl! You want the bulls coming to haul your ass, they patrol round here.."
Fire turned around to see a girl who looked a few years older than him. "I'm sorry, my lil sistah heah," He nodded his head towards Dragon, "was lost. She wasn't at da lodging house, so I had ta come look for her." He smiled.
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Post by flea on Aug 3, 2008 1:49:51 GMT -5
Flea tugged her thread-bare shawl tighter around her small frame as she meandered in the dark of the city. Tears stained her pale cheeks and her teeth chattered with her crying as she walked with wide-open eyes. This wasn't the first time that she'd gotten lost in the city, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
Seeing a figure resting on the train station platform, Flea hesitated. On the one hand, the young man might be dangerous and harm her. But on the other, he could take her someplace safe. Older kids always knew what to do, and she knew that from experience.
Timidly approaching him without a sound, Flea reached out a shaking hand and tapped his shoulder. "S'cuse me, mister." She sniffled softly, trying to sound brave through her tears.
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Post by flea on Aug 3, 2008 4:26:40 GMT -5
The young man turned to acknowledge her and he looked neither surprised nor angry. In fact, he looked...nothing. Flea couldn't tell by looking at him what exactly he might have been thinking. When he said nothing, she swallowed the lump in her throat and spoke in a soft, wavering tone. "I'm lost. I need to get to the Bronx Lodgin' House but I don't see nothin' I 'member..."
She was scared, that much was evident. If she'd known she were in Brooklyn, she might have been worse off. She was a wanderer, but she'd never intentionally gone to Brooklyn alone before. It was no place for a kid like her, especially at night time.
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Post by flea on Aug 3, 2008 14:54:04 GMT -5
There seemed to be a hardness in his tone that made the little girl's heart beat faster than it already was, so that she felt almost winded even while standing still. She was in such poor health that an upset such as being lost damaged her more than it would a normal child. The rim's of her eyes were pink as she cried, and coupled with her pale skin she looked quite ill.
"P-please, mister." She reached out and tugged his sleeve desperately, stepping almost close enough to throw her arms around him--which she kind of wanted to do, but didn't yet. "Y-you," she choked on her tears a little, "you're bigger an' no one c'can hurt you."
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Post by flea on Aug 3, 2008 15:13:17 GMT -5
All James had to do was turn to her and Flea allowed herself to press into his embrace eagerly, clinging to him as tears shook her meager frame. She was shivering, but it wasn't clear whether that was due to her tears or the chill in the air. "I w-want to stay with y-you til its not d-dark no more." She mumbled into him, litte fingers curling tightly into the fabric of his shirt.
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Post by flea on Aug 3, 2008 15:26:17 GMT -5
Flea didn't answer him right away, too busy trying to snuggle into his warmth and security to inform him that both her mama and papa had passed on. Cricket had taught her that she didn't need to tell everyone everything, but she felt she could trust him. "I d-don't have any, j-just my sister." She admitted, voice still soft and muffled against his now-moistened shirt.
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Post by flea on Aug 3, 2008 15:41:14 GMT -5
Cricket Petherbridge would never have gone home with a stranger, but Flea was a trusting little girl who rarely saw the bad in people. All she knew was that James was hugging her and she felt safe for the first time in hours, and that was enough for her to trust him. Besides, she was too young to suspect foul play; too innocent to think him capable of hurting her.
"O-okay." She sniffled. She was exhausted from being lost and the thought of going 'home', no matter whose home it was, was welcoming. "I p-promise I won't bother a-anyone." She would be quiet as a little mouse, she would.
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Post by flea on Aug 3, 2008 15:58:36 GMT -5
Being of a slight, thin build, Flea probably weighed very little. She gave no arguments when he lifted her, simply wrapping her arms around him as though he were as close to her as a brother and not some stranger. She rested against him, eyes heavy as she tilted his head onto his shoulder.
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Post by Christina Mathers on Mar 12, 2009 22:50:34 GMT -5
*New Day*
Christina stepped off the train and onto New York soil for the first time in two months. Everything was still the same, the way she remembered it. Granted she had only been gone a short while, it was something she had to do. After being released from jail she left New York and all its memories behind to do some soul searching. So she went west to Utah and learned things she never would have otherwise, but now she was home and ready to begin a new life.
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Post by scaper on May 9, 2009 21:34:32 GMT -5
(sorry if its not an amazing post, i'm a tad rusty :] )
* New Day*
New York City air. It had been a year since that acrid smell of home had surrounded him. As he stepped off the train and onto the platform, relief swept him over. So long he had been gone. It felt like a decade.
Nothing much had changed by the looks of it. There were still bums sleeping on benches and people lingering around. Home. He was just happy to be home.
He was slightly thinner now. Other than that he was still same old Clarence. He knew that his wife, if she hadn't divorced him by now, would kill him if he were to just show up on the front steps of the hall. Little Rebecca, he missed her the most. He wondered if she would even remember him.
He took a final look at the train pulling out of the station. "Better be going then," he mumbled to himself. Trying to get his bearings he picked up his luggage, and looking slightly confused, headed towards an exit.
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Post by steve on May 9, 2009 21:50:07 GMT -5
Steve was bumming around by the train yards. Work had finished and he was left with nothing to do. Not much to go home to, a dinner of pickles, jerky, and beans. He smirked slightly at the thought of little Gwennie, and how disgusted she would be at his dinner menu choices. For her sake he might add in some jelly for desert.
Steve looped his fingers through his belt loops, leaning against a piece of freight and scanning the area with his blue eyes. Steve didn't know many people. He did his job and focused on it, and mostly kept to himself, though he could get excited easily if something interested him. He had met a few people, the Scottish Manhattan newsie Piper, and Miss Mason at the music store, little Gwennie.
He noticed a man step off a train. He must have been a New York native, Steve observed. He could just tell, the way the man took in the sights and smiled. There was something weary about him, but at the same time firm. Then Steve saw why, ah, right, Police Officer. Steve just went back to his silent eye wandering, rolling an old ciggarette butt he had found under his dirt stained finger. Police Officers always blamed the innocent instead of the guilty, especially if your in the working class. He just shrugged and threw the butt down, grinding it under his shoe.
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