Fountain

[mabel]

"Well, between me an' you, Mabel." Maeby lowered her tone just a level, "I think that it would be better if Spot waited on the other leaders before divin' in. I mean, he's Irish an' so am I so this is comin' from first hand--ya don't want the Irish makin' the first move. We act on instinct and hot-headed emotions. What you need is someone cool and level-headed; like Jack or Dodger."

Mabel knew the hot-headedness of the Irish all too well. After all, her father was born in Ireland and Mabel accounted her family's current financial state to his impetuous nature. "Well, I don't much care who does what... just that they do it sooner rather then later." She explained simply. "I mean, shouldn't they be rallying us up or planning something?

Truth be told, Mabel didn't know what she would do if there was a strike. Run home, probably, and beg her parents to let her stay. She didn't want to be caught in the line of fire.

"Don't affect my way of livin', no." She admitted slowly, "But I got a lot of friends dependent on the papes. It ain't a stroll in the park watchin' them struggle unnecessarily."

Mabel nodded, "I don't understand it... with so many young kids living off a few cents a day, who in their right mind would make it harder for them? Someone's going to have to run this city when those rich old men are gone. If they keep looking out for their pocketbooks and letting children go hungry, well, this whole city might just collapse."

Sure, Mabel was being dramatic, but there was truth to what she was saying. It shocked her, being on this side of the class division. She wasn't used to not getting what she needed. If things continued in this fashion, she was truly in for a rude awakening.

[bottlecap]

"Well, I don't much care who does what... just that they do it sooner rather then later." She explained simply. "I mean, shouldn't they be rallying us up or planning something?"

Maeby couldn't blame Mabel for wanting action and wanting it fast; the livelihood of some many was at stake while the leaders dawdled. Even so, being that she wasn't a newsgirl herself, it would have been hard for her to feign that it weighed as heavily upon her. "I'm sure they're tryin' to figure somethin' out. Problem is...someone probably don't agree in the mix, an' its slowin' 'em all down."

True enough, the leaders of the burroughs didn't always see eye to eye. Some were rational while others were emotional. Some just didn't like being told what to do, and sitting among other leaders was against their pride. Who really knew the minds of the leaders? All Maeby knew was that if they planned to DO something, they needed to do it.

"I don't understand it... with so many young kids living off a few cents a day, who in their right mind would make it harder for them? Someone's going to have to run this city when those rich old men are gone. If they keep looking out for their pocketbooks and letting children go hungry, well, this whole city might just collapse."

With a sigh, Maeby shook her head and swept hair off of herself once more. Still, the heat made it impossible for her to gain relief of her wild mane. She could tell by Mabel's speech that she didn't understand the system, or how things were when you were without proper parents to provide for you. Even when you weren't an orphan, if you were middle to lower class, things scarcely went your way. It was a shame, yes. But it was life. And it was the life Maeby knew only too well, so she wasn't nearly as frustrated with it as Mabel seemed to be.

"Well, Mabel," she began thoughtfully, tilting her head as she watched a wealthy woman pass with her nose in the air. "I guess the fact that when they're gone, they'll be gone... kind of keeps them for caring about whose left to run things. Right?" She shrugged, "That, an' they're schoolin' their own arrogant, greedy bastard sons to take their places so they ain't too hassled 'bout whether some street kid eats this week."

When it came to politics, Maeby would just as rather not hear or speak about them. They only frustrated and enraged her, when there was absolutely nothing she could do about them. One thing that could rile lead Maeby Murphy to hysterics was for her to feel helpless and, more than anything, discussing the state of the world... made her feel HELPLESS.

"You thirsty?" She stood suddenly, "Cause I gotta tell ya, I'm dyin' of heat stroke over here under this damned mess of hair."

[mabel]

"I'm sure they're tryin' to figure somethin' out. Problem is...someone probably don't agree in the mix, an' its slowin' 'em all down."

Mabel tipped her head to the side, resting her head against her shoulder. "True... but one person: that's all it takes to start something, right? That one person should get startedand - oh, what am I saying? This strike business- it's," she sighed in exasperation, "I wish there were ways of dealing with this that didn't involve... well, frankly, I've never been one for fighting."

"I guess the fact that when they're gone, they'll be gone... kind of keeps them for caring about whose left to run things. Right?" She shrugged, "That, an' they're schoolin' their own arrogant, greedy bastard sons to take their places so they ain't too hassled 'bout whether some street kid eats this week."

Maeby had a point. These men had one objective in life: look out for themselves and their own. If they could make it through with minimal chaos, they could heave that heavy load onto the next generation. The problem being one day it would all collapse in on itself and then where would we be?

"But still," Mabel began, surprising herself with her aggravation. "There are only a few of them and compared to u-" Mabel closed her mouth before she could finish the word. No, she was not a part of the collective "us". She couldn't accept that yet. "What I mean to say is, for every child born into indulgence, there's ten more on the street, right? There's got to be power there... power in numbers, right?"

Mabel felt defeated. Swiping a lock of hair from her eyes, she set her jaw and stared off at the passerbys. Some looked well to do, other who clearly were just getting by. Both of them there, together, seeing each other, but it amounted to nothing.

"You thirsty?" She stood suddenly, "Cause I gotta tell ya, I'm dyin' of heat stroke over here under this damned mess of hair."

"Yeah," She replied, snapping her attention back to Maeby. "Yeah, something to drink sounds good." Getting to her feet, she followed Maeby's lead.

((OOC: Where to?))

[Milo]

(New Day)

Milo had just sold his last pape and already, he wasn't sure what to do. There weren't enough people walking past the fountain today to really sit and observe them for very long but he liked the sound of the cascading water and he didn't really feel like moving to a different area of the park at the moment. Still searching his mind for something interesting that he could do, he stood up on the edge of the fountain and began pacing around the rim, his arms held out to his sides for better balance. As he walked, his mind began to drift from the task at hand. 'I wonder where Gwennie's been' he thought, a trace of worry evident on his young face 'I ain't seen 'er in forever. She'd play with me if she were here' he concluded, his worry shifting back to boredom. His steps began to take on a cadence as he circled precariously around the rim and quickened his pace, challenging himself to keep his balance.

[dream]

Today wasn't a very great for Connie. She couldn't sleep the night before in the alley, and her dress was ripped, her clothes as well as hair and face were dirty. The only thing she has with her is her song writing book, and it was so precious to her. She needed a soft seat to sit in so she could finish her song that she was writing. And she went back to her writing. Humming a few chords, then saying them softly so she didn't bother anyone else in the park, she smiled softly. It was hard for a young girl of the age of six to learn such a hard song, but she was getting it pretty quickly and it was making her terribly happy.

Gazing across the park, she saw all different kinds of people, especially the ones who were giving her dirty looks and smirking worthlessly at her. This made tears come to her eyes as the young children did it, but what made her actually start to shudder and make a few tears fall were the parents there. A few she heard whisper, 'Look at that ridiculous and ugly girl over there, she is worthless, no wonder she has no class.' Her small, fragile body was shaking, but she was silent as she sobbed. Closing her book, on the front it was brown leather, and she had put a picture of her parents on the front of it, which made her shake her head violently and rest it on her lap.

[Milo]

As Milo made his way around the fountain, he saw a little girl around his age sitting nearby . She was hunched over and shaking, and he could hear small sobs coming from her direction. Her clothes looked tattered and she was dirty but that didn't phase him. He was used to kids looking kind of grubby and he figured that she just didn't have any place to stay (a situation with which he was very familiar). Stopping in his tracks, Milo hopped off of the edge of the fountain and walked over to the girl. He stood by her for a minute or two, unsure what to say or do. Finally, he spoke to her in a small voice, which he hoped sounded consoling. "you okay?" he asked, still staring at her intently " ya look sad"

[dream]

She was staring down at the cover of her leather book and was still shaking when she heard a soft voice next to her. Looking up, she noticed it was a boy who was a few inches taller then her, he had brown hair and dark eyes. Her face was still tear streaked, and she was still shaking slightly. Licking her lips, she sniffled and said quietly, her voice shaky, "I- I don't know. I'm not that happy." Connie gulped a lump that had formed in her throat, but it surpassed as she swallowed.

[Milo]

"How come?" Milo asked, sitting down next to her. Up close, she looked even worse off than she had before. Fatigue was evident on her face and her tears had left small tracks along her grubby cheeks. He noticed that she was clutching tightly to the only two objects that she seemed to have with her, a small, leatherbound book and picture of two people who he assumes must have been her parents. "dose ya' folks?" he asked, indicating the picture.

[dream]

"'Cause my parents just died yesterday..." She mumbled sadly. When they died, she grabbed the nearest picture of them, along with her song book. and ran out of the house, not knowing what to do, nor where to go. "Yeah. You can look at it." Connie gave him a small smile and handed the picture to him, and noticed that he had a very childish face, and his skin was dirty, but not as dirty as hers. "I'm Connie."

[Milo]

"I'm Milo" he replied, examining the picture for a moment. "dey look real nice" he commented and once again fell silent. A few minutes passed and Milo looked around morosely "My folks is dead too" he added quickly, handing her the picture and pulling two of his own out of a little pouch which hung at his waist. and holding them out for her to see.
[glow=red,2,300]www.fileden.com/files/2008/7/13/2001142/248683216_dc14ea2057_b.jpg[/glow]
[glow=red,2,300]www.fileden.com/files/2008/7/13/2001142/1395820095_115039d991_o.jpg[/glow]
"Dey was a couple a' yeahs oldah when dey died" he mentioned in a hushed voice, playing absentmindedly with his shoelaces, using his free hand.

[dream]

"It's nice to meet you Milo." She took the two pictures and her gaze turned to both of the people. They looked quite young, but both were very beautiful. "They are really good looking." She commented, not knowing how to word it. "I'm sorry about your parents though." She added.

[Milo]

Milo nodded grimly "I'm sorry 'bout yours" he muttered, looking back up at her "Ya got a place ta stay?" he asked, already fairly sure what the answer was going to be. After his mother had died (about a year after his father's death) he had been on the street for almost a year before he became a newsie and started staying at the lodging house.

[dream]

"Um...yes. But I haven't been able to pay, so for right now until I can, then no." She muttered as she watched him. Licking her lips, she pocketed her picture and her leather song book. Then, she turned her attention back to Milo.

[Milo]

Milo nodded understandingly and looked around to see if anybody was listening to them. "Well... have you evah thought a' maybe..." he looked arouind again and lowered hisw voice "Pickpocketing" he whispered finally looking at her with a very serious look on his face. "I know it ain't somethin' ya prolly wanna do but it makes okay money if ya' any good at it an' I could teach ya"

[dream]

Connie giggled quietly. "I do know that. But, I haven't tried it yet. I don't want to get caught." Her smile turned to bright to a frown that was scared. "Have you done it before?" She asked.