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Post by Dr. Walter House on Jun 8, 2009 13:50:01 GMT -5
House smiled slightly, she reminded her of himself at her age. Not one for games or much sport, not at all like his sister, who he often chided for being such a child. Though she was. As he sometimes reflected that he should have been. But he doubted he would be a doctor today if he had.
"Keep busy with what?" He glanced to her paper.
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Post by dice on Jul 4, 2009 6:12:46 GMT -5
{ New Day }
Dice sat on the ground. She fiddled with the grass around her. Today was a boring day for Dice. She had nothing to do so she decided to come over to Manhattan and just relax. That was something that Dice never got to do when she was a newsie with her ex- boyfriend who just sorta disappeared. Dice had thought that he had fallen off from the face of the earth.
Dice had noticed that someone was watching her. She wondered who is was but she didn't walk up to them and ask 'why were you staring at me?' That would just be plain stupid. |
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Post by Lord Byron Hastings on Jul 11, 2009 22:05:42 GMT -5
Byron watched as the girl fiddled with the grass. She had caught him watching her so he looked away; he didn't want to creep her out. Byron looked at her again; worried about someone like her being out by herself when all these kids and girls turning up missing, he decided he'd go talk to her, keep her company, maybe escort her home. All the older boys were told to never leave any of the kids or girls alone.
Byron walked over to the girl and tipped his hat like an english gentleman should. In his English accent he said, " 'Ello ma'am. Fine day, isn't it?"
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Post by Brook LaRue on Sept 7, 2009 16:15:45 GMT -5
((New Day))
Brook was up the tree third branch from the top, looking down to make sure no one was running off with her shoes as she moved to another branch where the squirrels nest was. She smiled a little bit and adjusted, bare foot up the tree. Her skirts managed to at least keep her decent if anyone looked up. She was the kind of girl that propriety didn't always matter. She didn't know much of it anyway, when you grew up in the Bayou things were different than the big city. Here they didn't call her Bayou trash every time she went into some place nice.
She looked down to check on her shoes once more before she finally saw the nest, Snoddy had reminded her about it. There were only a couple babies in there but she liked to look at them. "Aww.. lil be..." they were so cute.
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Post by Snoddy King on Sept 8, 2009 1:10:40 GMT -5
"Damn, you're a good climber," Snoddy murmured, hefting himself up another branch higher, and gave Brook a teasing grin before adding, "for a girl, anyway."
Now that they'd escaped the humidity and entrancing scent of the washroom and were back in Snoddy's natural habitat--specifically, up a very large oak tree--he was able to put his encounter with Brook's unclothed form out of his mind. He was even so bold as to reach out and tug at the hem of her skirts, pulling them into a better position to protect her modesty (well, what was left of it after he'd walked in on her in the tub) from anyone below who happened to look up into the tree.
As they climbed, Snoddy recognized the squirrel nest Brook had told him about, carefully tucked in the groin of two thick branches and obscured from view from anyone not climbing the tree.
"Aww.. lil be..."
Drawing himself up alongside Brook, slowly so he wouldn't startle anything inside the nest, Snoddy peered into the nest. Inside the twisted knot of twigs and moss and leaves (really, people referenced rats' nests as a metaphor for a mess? Rats had nothing on squirrels!) rested two small, sleeping baby red squirrels. Heads adorably oversized for their bodies at this age, minuscule little paws tucked under their chins, eyelids closed over ink-black eyes the size of marbles...
"Gosh, I forgot how cute they were," he whispered to Brook. "They're like tiny little newborn dingo pups! But, well, with smaller faces."
Snoddy couldn't help but chuckle--outright giggle--at them. Their red-brown fluff just begged for him to stroke a finger over their downy heads and bottle-brush tails, and the urge was overwhelming--but he forced himself to keep his hands to himself, knowing that touching them meant rubbing his scent on them, which could lead to their mother abandoning the nest and leaving her babies to die.
Instead, he settled for gently tucking a shelled beechnut in amongst the moss of the nest, where the mother could find it when she came back.
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Post by Brook LaRue on Sept 8, 2009 1:25:08 GMT -5
Brook stuck her tongue out at him when he gave her the for a girl comment and knew she could have pushed him out of the tree but they were to high up and someone would get hurt so she settled for pulling her legs up on the branch and smiling down at the squirrels.
"Gosh, I forgot how cute they were," he whispered to Brook. "They're like tiny little newborn dingo pups! But, well, with smaller faces."
She heard him giggle and couldn't help but chuckle, lord he was cute. Like one of those little squirrels and he had a few years on her so she didn't really understand how a man could be so darn innocent and still be older. But she tilted her head and looked up at him on the branch a bit higher.
"What's a dingo, mon che?" she'd never heard the term but she didn't know many people in new york that had ever really seen fireflies buzzing around in the night, dancing like little lights over the water. This, was a little bit like that. Watching magic to her really-- she came from a place where magic was everywhere. The bayou was all magic, and she ached for that feeling. But, times like these when she was up in a tree helped edge off her feeling of homesickness.
"One thing that's better here than back home, the white boys don't look at me funny.." she hadn't realized she'd said it out loud but oh the truth of it. Back home she was just Louisiana Bayou trash, here the people treated her like she was special. Not some creole trash that came up from the bayou to soil their blue blood lines. "I don't even think that ya'll realize.." she shook her head. Creole, Cajun of mixed blood. People where she was from where all about bloodlines. Where can you trace yours too, who are your people... they did that hear too but, they accepted her here. It did make her smile to think about that.
She shifted on the branch and looked across the park seeing the buildings rise up over the trees and knowing that they were in the little bit of wild in a city that was dirty and a bit scary. It was different, and so were the people.
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Post by Snoddy King on Sept 8, 2009 23:09:34 GMT -5
"What's a dingo, mon che?"
Snoddy looked to her, confused for a moment, before he remember. No dingoes in America. "They're, uh, they're sort of like dogs. Well, they are dogs, really. Wild dogs. They're sort of like wolves for Australians, but they look more like a cross between dogs and foxes. No fox blood in them, though--they were brought in to kill foxes, actually. When they're babies, they're just teeny-tiny little bundles of fluff, with bushy little tails and big heads and tiny bodies, just like these guys." He stopped and looked back into the nest again, trying to shut himself up before he got too off track, but somehow he found himself still talking.
"They're kind of neat, really. They live like humans, in a way. They're born, right? And then their parents raise them, and when they're old enough, they go off and live on their own. But they never go very far from where they were raised, and even though they usually live on their own, the family groups will gather a few times a year. Like a family reunion. And they don't fight much. If two dingoes start getting aggressive, the others will actually stop the fight. They break up the two fighters and push them off in opposite directions. And sometimes two lone dingoes will work together to hunt and bring down bigger animals, and then share the food."
Realizing he was babbling like an idiot about some damn wild dogs from home, he quickly shut his mouth, biting back the urge to continue talking about their social hierarchies and how they communicate. Instead, he plucked a dead leaf from the branch he was straddling and set it in the squirrel nest, covering the two babies as if with a blanket.
"One thing that's better here than back home, the white boys don't look at me funny... I don't even think that ya'll realize..."
"Mm," he nodded gravely, "that's 'cause they're too busy looking at me. See, you? Up here, you're just exotic. You got that golden skin, and those dark eyes and hair, and that sweet little voice that's so southern with this mysterious little touch of somethin' else..." Trailing off, he felt the blush rising to his cheeks again and cleared his throat, looking out across the view their position in the tree offered. "Me, I'm just gubba hoon drongo even the Brits couldn't take."
("Gubba hoon drongo" is a compound insult to Australians. "Gubba" is derived from "garbage," "hoon" means "irresponsible, lazy," and "drongo" is Australian slang for "idiot." So Snoddy's being called a lazy, stupid piece of garbage.)
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Post by Brook LaRue on Sept 8, 2009 23:32:50 GMT -5
Brook listened silently to his talk about dingos and chuckled, they sounded like amazing creatures. She liked listening to him talk about his home. He was right, they were like people. That was how her little town back home was like.
Her head tilted when he started listing her virtues, causing her brows to lift when he started saying something she didn't exactly understand but it couldn't sound all good. She shifted on the branch and watched him for a moment.
"I don't know what a- gubba hoon whatever means, che. But you sure aren't somethin' bad. You're a good person and if anyone says edge wise then they're just stupid.." she nodded her head and sighed watching the babies in their nest. Oh she'd been called a lot of things. "Sounds like where you're from has got magic just like the Bayou does.." there was a lot of magic in places, even here in this large sprawl of concrete and dirt. People were always in such a hurry, they were always running around trying to make it big or just survive.
"Don't let anyone tell you any different either, okay?" he shifted and sat on the branch looking out over the city once again. From Dingos to Crocodiles, every place was different. She wouldn't be surprised if one day they were saying there were alligators in the sewers of New York!
((To bad according to the wiki of awesome that sewer gators weren't talked about in urban legends until the 20's and 30's))
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Post by Snoddy King on Sept 9, 2009 10:28:17 GMT -5
"I don't know what a... gubba hoon whatever means, che. But you sure aren't somethin' bad. You're a good person and if anyone says edge wise then they're just stupid..."
"Mm," Snoddy grunted, shifting position in the tree. Turning to face the nearby vertically rising bough, he wrapped his arms and legs around it, clinging easily like a koala. "Tell them that," he grumbled, tilting his head to indicate the rest of the populace. He was quiet for a moment before suddenly asking, "Did you know that the English settlement of Australia originated as a penal colony? At first, it was just a place to put the overflow from English prisons, because they were getting too full. Then a few decades ago there was a gold rush, and convicts flocked. Possibility of striking gold and the opportunity to evade arrest in the bush."
As soon as the words had finished pouring out of his mouth, he regretted saying them. Resting his chin on the swell of his biceps, he stared solemnly down into the squirrel nest, vowing to learn how to shut the hell up one of these days.
"Sounds like where you're from has got magic just like the Bayou does..."
"We got lizards with blue tongues," he blurted. Jesus, where the hell was this word-vomit coming from?! Giving Brook a slightly embarrassed grin, he continued. "Dangerous magic. Poisonous snakes, poisonous frogs, poisonous bugs... We got salty crocs long as a carriage from the horse's nose to the rumble seat, and the sea's full of the most gorgeous fish you've ever seen that can kill you just by getting close to you. And at night you can lie on your back in the desert and stare up at a sky so black and so huge you feel like you're drowning in a sea of stars."
Snoddy kept to himself a lot, preferring to be an observer than to be a participant. The few people he did interact with were mostly city kids, who'd been born and raised around a massive cluster of buildings and people, with trees and grass and bushes and flowers only growing where they had permission to grow. Since settling in New York, he hadn't met anyone who could talk of the magic of home with so much candor. Until talking to Brook, he hadn't realized just how homesick he felt sometimes...
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Post by Brook LaRue on Sept 9, 2009 16:20:29 GMT -5
Brook watched him for a moment and listened to him talk before she brushed her hair behind her ear as she listened to him, "My Pape's people are the same way mon choux, then again so were my granny's." she felt like she should probably explain, she hadn't known any of that about Australia but she was probably sure he didn't know much about where she'd come from either.
"My granny her people were in Louisiana before even the white folks came.." Meaning her granny was a full blooded native. She shrugged a little. That was a lot of the bayou trash comments. "I miss them, we never had much but what we did have each other.." she smiled a little, unlike a lot of the newsies that sold she had a loving family back home that did in fact miss her being there. And two brother's in New York that were trying to keep an eye on her to boot. But Mason and Montgomery were their own men. She watched Snoddy for a moment before she reached over and pat his shoulder gently.
"It's okay to miss home, bebe.. I miss it too.." even if their homes were basically the final destinations of people outcasted from their homes, by the same government at that (England sucked), she still felt that she had found a place somehow. Somewhere with her friends here, and it made her happy. "We've got Crocs in the bayou too, they're everywhere an' there's danger too, but I still used to run barefoot threw the bayou get covered in mud and go home-- maman would have a fit but.." she was still smiling.
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Post by Snoddy King on Sept 9, 2009 22:43:06 GMT -5
Snoddy listened as Brook revealed her family's history, and felt a little better for it. At least he wasn't the only one with what most would consider a questionable ancestry. And hey, if he kept his mouth shut, most people would never guess where he was from, let alone the stock he came from.
"It's okay to miss home, bebe... I miss it too... We've got crocs in the bayou too, they're everywhere an' there's danger too, but I still used to run barefoot through the bayou, get covered in mud and go home--maman would have a fit but..."
Snoddy smiled, still clinging to the branch and leaving his gaze focused in the squirrel nest. He could just picture Brook at home, running through the swamp paths, chasing fireflies at dusk and getting her skirt hems muddied and tattered... He'd been down south--not to the Louisiana Bayou, but near, in Mississippi. He'd found a raccoon kit near the train tracks, and he'd made a pet out of it while he was there, raising it and feeding it until it was time to move on.
"I haven't seen home in seven years, Brook," he said with a sigh. "At this point, I don't even think 'home' would recognize me anymore..."
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Post by Brook LaRue on Sept 9, 2009 22:53:17 GMT -5
She shifted to lay on the branch, her foot holding her up as she let her head rest on the branch, hair falling down as she looked over at the sky that peaked at her threw the leaves, as she let the silence hang between them for a time. Seven years? She tried to think back to what she'd been doing for seven years. Living really. She'd had rocks thrown at her by the white kids and they still called her names. But even as a little girl she'd always given people the benefit of a doubt.
"No matter where you go, still the same sky, that's why my granny always says. She told me, that even when you're far away, the sky is the same color. Maybe a little more hazy an' it may look different but at night, when you feel the most alone. Someone else is looking at the moon.. and thinking the same thing.." She didn't really talk much about the kinds of things her granny said. She missed her terribly though, her maman and pape. Her family. And the place yes but, as long as she was happy she could really be at home anywhere.
She looked over at him, watching him quietly. "Home isn't every far away, mon che.."
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Post by Snoddy King on Sept 10, 2009 23:40:00 GMT -5
Snoddy tipped his head back, looking up at the sky over New York. For a moment, he considered telling Brook that the sky here definitely wasn't the same color as the Australian sky--the sky at home was such a deep blue it could never be matched anywhere--but decided her sentiment was still valid.
He nodded glumly and set his chin on his biceps again, but instead of staring down into the squirrel nest, he peered past the branch his arms were wrapped around to Brook. She was looking back at him, and she looked so... sincere. Snoddy was stricken with the realization of everything she'd been saying. He'd gotten so caught up in the abuse he'd taken here and how much he missed home, he hadn't really registered that Brook was mirroring his experiences nearly perfectly.
He sighed and turned his gaze away, staring off across the park from his perch in the trees. "You ever get the feeling," he started, speaking slowly, weighing each word carefully, "that there's something you're missing? Something you're just... not getting? And you know that that something is right in front of you, and it would be so obvious if you could just know what it was you were supposed to be seeing? And it's... it's like that one thing that would make all the difference in your day? In your mind, in your whole damn way of life, if you could just see it?"
Without moving his head, Snoddy closed his eyes, and swallowed.
"Could I kiss you, Brook?"
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Post by Brook LaRue on Sept 11, 2009 0:02:06 GMT -5
She listened to his lament and thought about it, had she ever thought of those things? There was a possiblity, actually she felt like more often then not she was on the losing end of something. But then she was spending time with Blink and it was just them and things were okay, or when Specs would court her off just to have some fun. And spending time with Snoddy helped with things too. She listened and smiled but it all stopped when he asked that final question and her brain ground to a hault.
Could he kiss her?
Her eyes widened and she looked over at him, confusion on her face. But, but.. a million things cramed threw her brain at once. The fact that she had those soft spot feelings for Blink had her face shift as she bit her lip. She wasn't sure if she was considering it or not so she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I can't.." it was something she didn't want to do, he was her friend and one of her closest ones but she would do what she'd done when he'd walked in on her in the washroom. Pretend..
Shifting on the branch she adjusted to where she could slip down. "It's gettin' late, we should head back, bebe.." she felt, like she was missing something now. A whole lot of somethings, she wasn't going to hurt her friends. And Blink... she climbed down the tree once again angry at him and at herself. If she could just shift those feelings onto Snoddy, he at least paid attention. He didn't run off after every girl he saw in a skirt leaving her standing there wondering what was going to happen next, or if he was even coming back. Her chest hurt but she waited for him to come down and looked up. This wasn't fair. Then again, thus was life wasn't it. Resisting the urge to show what she was feeling on her face she smiled up at him. "Come on! Jack'll have words with us you know.. it's been a long day!"
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Post by Snoddy King on Sept 11, 2009 0:29:57 GMT -5
Snoddy exhaled at Brook's refusal, his breath huffing out in a rush, as though he'd just been punched in the gut.
"Yeah," he muttered, turning away, "yeah, you're right. I--I'm sorry, that... that was stupid. I shouldn't have--"
"It's gettin' late, we should head back, bebe..."
"Yeah, it's late, we should get back," he echoed dumbly. Brook had already started to move, so he waited for her to get safely beneath him before he unwound himself from the limb--and swiped angrily at his cheek where she'd kissed him. Giving the squirrel nest, and the baby squirrels that had slept through the whole ordeal, a last look, he whispered to them, "Hope it's easier for you guys," before easily dropping through the branches.
"Don't forget your shoes," he mumbled, indicating the shoes Brook had left at the base of the tree before they began their adventure. He couldn't wait for this day to end now.
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