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Post by Prince on Jun 7, 2006 0:18:33 GMT -5
A place to get some drinks and maybe even play some poker.
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Post by hawkeye on Aug 11, 2006 23:08:04 GMT -5
Hawkeye entered Irving Hall, grabbing a chair from a nearby table and turning it around, so when she sat down, it was backwards. She was in an unusually pleasant mood, almost at an unnaturally joyful medium. No particular reason behind the feeling, just a random spurt of, well, random-ness. Hawkeye tended to be more down-to-earth, nothing like this imposter-like character.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table infront of her. She still wasn't sure why she had come into the hall, with the great amount of energy she currently had.
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Post by Sweets on Aug 17, 2006 23:23:33 GMT -5
Sweets swung open the door, weaving around the abundant men and making her way to a table. Spotting Hawkeye she grinned, leaning an ink-stained hand on her table. "Heya Hawky, how's it goin'?"
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Post by hawkeye on Aug 18, 2006 18:23:44 GMT -5
Hawkeye sat up, "Hey Sweets. An' oddly well," she shrugged, "Whadda 'bout you? Any particular reason ya wanderin' 'round 'ere?"
She twisted a loose strand of hair around her finger, eyeing a group of men loudly singing one of Medda's song at a nearby table. She arched an eyebow, "Come ta think o' it, I ain't quite sure why I came in 'ere myself."
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Post by Sweets on Aug 19, 2006 21:40:19 GMT -5
She shrugged, taking the seat across from her friend. "Nah, I was jist bored." Following her gaze to the drunks she sighed. "Lets jist hope they don' give us any trouble tanight, it's been known ta happen," she said with a slight eyeroll.
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Post by hawkeye on Aug 20, 2006 18:22:45 GMT -5
Hawkeye smirked and hit her knuckles against the table several times, "Knock on wood."
[Was that a phrase back then? - sorry, wicked short. =/]
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Post by Sweets on Aug 20, 2006 22:26:08 GMT -5
[lol why not?]
Sweets smirked back, glancing at the rowdier than usual drunks. As Medda's song came to an end, everyone started milling about. "Jist aint our night," she mumbled to Hawkeye as a man approached the table, a beer in one hand.
"'Ello ladies, care fo' a dance?" he asked, leaning on the table and being unaware that no music was even playing.
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Post by hawkeye on Aug 22, 2006 18:12:18 GMT -5
"Ugh, no," she paused, looking him over, "An' for when ya ask a second time, also no."
She glanced at Sweets, hoping she'd had a more persuasive reason for the man to leave. Hawkeye leaned forward, folding her arms and resting them on top of the back of the chair. [It's turned around backwards... I'm not just stupid. =P]
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Post by dancer on Jan 14, 2008 15:53:30 GMT -5
((New Day))
Dancer walked into Irving Hall, not really knowing why she was there. She was in fact a ballet dancer, and needed somewhere to preform for money. She liked the way everything looked, it was beautiful. If only she could dance here, she could imagine the groups of people coming in to see her. But did the people here even like ballet like the people in Louisiana?
She sat down in a chair and looked around, taking in every thing she could and trying to remember when she was younger and would dance for thousands of people. The times when her family had money, and a home.
She needed to talk to the person in charge but had no idea who to turn to.. So she waited.
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Post by scaper on Jan 14, 2008 16:39:10 GMT -5
Clarence had been stopping by to visit Medda. The woman was kind to him, despite his wife being her rival. He looked out for her theatre when he was on patrol in Manhattan, and stopped by sometimes for a bit of food or a chat. Medda wasn't mean, just a little wacky.
He reholstered his nightstick and saw an unfamiliar girl sitting in a chair off to the side. She had a look of amazement on her face, and Clarence couldn't help but grin.
"Excuse me miss, is there anything I can help you with?" He came up behind her slowly, tapping lightly on her shoulder. He didn't want to spook her.
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Post by dancer on Jan 16, 2008 17:32:48 GMT -5
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not supposed to be here?" Dancer paused and looked the man over, trying to think of an explanation. "The doors were unlocked so, I didn't think it would be a problem for me to come and look around."
She straightened out her skirt, whipping her now sweating hands on it. "I'm Rose Monje." She said, holding out her hand. That was her real name, but the newsies all called her Dancer.
"I'm looking for a woman named Medda, do you know her?" Dancer asked, perhaps this man could help her find the woman.
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Post by scaper on Jan 17, 2008 14:57:30 GMT -5
Clarence took the girls hand, shaking it. "Nice to meet you Miss Rose, I'm Officer Carter." He gave her a genuine smile, then looked over at the small cuckoo clock on the wall. "I reckon Medda will be out in a few minutes. There's always a few stragglers who come in and look around, so you shouldn't be in any trouble. Are you new in town?" The way she had been looking in awe at the theater gave him the impression that she hadn't been in New York too long.
Clarence took a step back, his hands in his pockets. He had come to talk to Medda about a few newsies who were causing trouble. He never could get her to give him their names, but it didn't mean he wouldn't try.
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Post by dancer on Jan 17, 2008 17:50:07 GMT -5
"Yes, sir. My family and I just moved here from down south." She smiled. "I don't know if its my place to ask Officer, but what are you doing here?" Dancer asked not understanding why a Police Officer would he at a place like this during hours.
"My uncle is a police officer, I could never get him to take me with him to his work though." She added. Now feeling foolish, that was years ago, she was at least 9 or 10.. Now at age 17 she shouldn't be interested in the adventures of a police.
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Post by scaper on Jan 17, 2008 20:45:15 GMT -5
Clarence should have known when he heard her talk that she was from the South. "Me? I'm here to talk to Medda. I look out for her theater sometimes. And your Uncle, huh? I can understand why he wouldn't take you with him. Being a police officer isn't exactly a job for a lady." He let out a light chuckle. Women in uniform, that would be a sight to see.
"Might I ask, what are you doing here?" Obviously she wanted to talk to Medda, but he wondered why.
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Post by dancer on Jan 19, 2008 15:47:58 GMT -5
"Well, I never did like to stay inside and drink tea with my mother. I always wanted to be outside exploring." Dancer blushed. That was not something a lady should be saying, especially to a man.
"I'm sorry," Dancer apologized, "I'm here to talk to Medda about dancing. Ballet actually, I'm a dancer." Dancer pulled her pointe shoes out of her purse and showed them to him. Then realizing that she was shoving her shoes in his face put them back up.
"Do you think she'll let me dance for her? I have someone who can play the music for me.." Dancer asked holding her hands tightly. Praying whatever he said would bring her hope.
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