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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Sept 5, 2008 2:38:37 GMT -5
"Lukas Berg--- and Pie--" She looked down at her hands and then pressed her head into his chest, she didn't say anything and didn't shed a tear. She'd cried plenty, over a lot of things she didn't thinks he should have too. She'd wished he'd been there back then when she'd needed him for that, but it was something she'd had to do alone.
"Sorry Danny.."
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Post by Daniel Cardoni on Sept 5, 2008 2:43:07 GMT -5
Ace let a soft breath escape his lips and just wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He wasn't going to cry, the time for that was over he thought. But he was upset, he really was. It was in his soft voice, in his eyes, and the way he held her. "And yet the world still moves." He murmured it softly and just kissed the top of her head. "Thank you for telling me."
He supposed, in that aspect, he had grown up a little bit. Not that he'd burst out crying only a year ago, he wouldn't have, but... He was appreciating things more now. More than he had back then.
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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Sept 5, 2008 2:44:58 GMT -5
She chuckled a little and shook her head, letting him hold her. "Hey I'm not even eighteen-- though by all rights I should be married with kids by now right?" The reality of their world-- she was technically an adult. She let one of her oldest friends hold her-- he even knew her longer than Smalls had.
"You know, only two people in the world even use my name anymore-- I don't know why that's starting to bother me.."
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Post by Daniel Cardoni on Sept 5, 2008 2:56:42 GMT -5
Ace groaned lightly at that thought. "I'm too young to be an uncle." He teased lightly and just held her close. "Your kids would be weird. Just saying." He held up one hand. "They'd be running around causing trouble and trying to dump Spot in the river or steal his cane... or something." That was the truth, too. As far as he saw it. He kissed the top of her head again. "I need a job too. It's not the end of the world. We'll figure it out."
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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Sept 5, 2008 3:00:55 GMT -5
It made her grin brightly, her arms coming around him and holding her friend close, she chuckled and shook her head, "Are you kidding? My babies would be card players-- and good ones too. Have to make the family line proud.." She lifted her head and grinned a bit at him, she seemed to look a little better at least.
"Guess we've both got work to do huh.."
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Post by Daniel Cardoni on Sept 5, 2008 3:14:57 GMT -5
Ace chuckled and nodded. "I know, I know. And they'll be beating me when they're little kids." Ace could play, he was just at a disadvantage with his friends because they knew how to read him too well. Made playing a little difficult. He nodded slowly and just smiled at her. "We do. But we'll be fine. In fact..." He looked up at the sky to check the time, and just hummed. "I have to go do something, but tell you what. I'm going to go see Dodge here in an hour or so, I'll meet you there? If you're not busy."
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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Sept 5, 2008 3:24:37 GMT -5
She gave him a look that meant he was up in the night before she rolled her eyes and stood up, stretching her arms over her head. "Yeah, yeah, Danny-- you go get your feelers out, just-- watch out for the Guild okay-- they're back in town.." She meant that, a warning from friend to friend. She was tired of living in fear and hiding. They were only two men-- and it was only Corsair she had to worry about.
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Post by Daniel Cardoni on Sept 5, 2008 3:29:12 GMT -5
Ace just grinned innocently at her and watched her. "I'll be okay." He reached out and caught her hand, jumping up and laying a kiss to the back of it. "I'm Ace, ex-leader of the Bronx." He winked and ruffled her hair before he just started off toward Queens. "I'll see you?" He turned and walked backwards, just watching her. He'd be watching, and he would be careful. Or as careful as he could be.
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Post by Lucky Volpecillia on Sept 5, 2008 3:30:38 GMT -5
She nodded and shook her head, "Yeah, you idiot I'll be there just stay out of trouble for me alright?" What the hell was she saying, if he didn't--- trouble would find him.
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Post by fitz on Apr 11, 2009 10:06:22 GMT -5
((New Day))
Fitz had been wandering for some time now, and only realized exactly where he was when he could go no further. He stood at the banks of the river, glancing about as if expecting a bridge to appear from nowhere and deliver him across. Fitz was a young man who spent much of his time looking. He rarely spoke, and when he did he was sure to keep his opinions to himself. He was a broken boy, but he didn't let anyone see that. They all mistook his silence for meekness, and left him alone.
But Fitz had had enough of trying to love.
After a moment he sat on the patchy grass and coarse sand that lined the river, and examined the running water. He had a creek like this near his old home, but he was trying not to think about it. The music of a violin swept through his head, a long forgotten melody that his fingers could still recall. If he could hold a violin again for a moment, play a single measure, he might be happy.
Perhaps.
But what good was it to dwell on what could never be?
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Post by Nike Kennedy on Apr 16, 2009 1:23:13 GMT -5
Nike was exploring the Bronx. Probably not the safest thing to do in New York, but she reasoned that she could always just outrun anyone who…well, just about any one at all. And so she wandered. She had finished her selling over in Queens and now found herself strolling along the Harlem riverbank.
She was just thinking about heading back to Queens to meet Styx for dinner, when she came upon a boy sitting on the grass. He looked to be around her age, but that was where the similarities stopped. He looked extremely forlorn and at the end of his rope. His fingers were moving gently, almost as if they were remembering motions that at one time been habit. Nike looked up at the position of the sun, deciding quickly that she had time.
She quietly sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her chin upon them. Her head was full of questions, advice, and sarcastic remarks for this boy, but she decided to keep them to herself (for once) and see if he decided to talk first. She let her gaze wander over the river while she waited, letting it surround them in it’s own sweet melody.
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Post by fitz on Apr 16, 2009 9:12:27 GMT -5
Fitz was thinking of his old home and how he had played. His family would come for the holidays, and Fitz's father would hand him the violin, and Fitz was sometimes beholden to play all night, until the tips of his fingers were sore from holding the bow, or broken from the strings. Even today, he had callouses on the fingers of his left hand from playing. It seemed insanity to think about the instrument so much, but here there was no music. It was natural for a young man who had grown up in a house filled with music to be wanting it when it was no longer there. Neither was the house, he reasoned. Or the family. They had been reduced to nothing, except for Fitz.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye he noticed motion. He looked over to see a girl sit beside him, silently. As if she didn't notice he was there, and was seeking her own quiet solitude on the bank. Or else, maybe she did notice he was there, and wished to know why he sought his. He wasn't keen on conversation, but he couldn't bring himself to stand up and walk away. It crossed his mind, but how could he? For someone who ached for the past so much, how could he abandon all that he had learned? He shifted uneasily, and said in a slightly accented voice, "Hello..."
He could say nothing more, could he? He would wait, then, to hear what she said. If she was the friendly sort--well--he didn't quite know how he would feel about that.
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Post by Nike Kennedy on Apr 16, 2009 13:43:38 GMT -5
She looked over at the boy as he spoke, giving him a soft smile. She could tell from his greeting that he was shy and not exactly the friendly type, but that wasn’t gonna stop her from trying to help him. “’Ello, I’m Nike,” she offered, then turned back to look at the river. “I hope you don’ mind me intrudin’ on your silence, but you looked kinda lost. Not physically, I mean,” she corrected quickly, “but kinda like you didn’t know what to do next. Like you needed a friend?”
Nike chanced a look at his face. Was she rambling? She couldn’t be sure. Granted she was talking a lot less than her usual amount, but that wasn’t much to go by. She didn’t have too much experience with shy people, in fact she knew she usually scared them off, But she was determined to try.
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Post by fitz on Apr 16, 2009 13:58:24 GMT -5
“’Ello, I’m Nike. I hope you don’ mind me intrudin’ on your silence, but you looked kinda lost. Not physically, I mean, but kinda like you didn’t know what to do next. Like you needed a friend?”
Nike? He'd never heard that word before. But her accent was heavily Irish, and he took some comfort in that. She spoke like his neighbors had, but not his parents. She talked a lot, which he didn't mind, but he didn't like it too much, either. She was someone who had nothing to hide. Many times, people who had nothing to hide assumed that everyone had nothing to hide. He would take a chance, though. She seemed friendly, and she was right. He was alone, and he didn't know what to do next. Did he need a friend? He hadn't had one in so long he wasn't entirely sure...
"Perhaps," he replied. "I have few friends. My name is Fitzwilliam, but I am also called Fitz, for short." He was embarrassed by his accent: the inborn Polish mixed with the learned Irish-English produced an unattractive sound. Like he was eating his words. He shifted. "Why are you here?" he asked, trying hard to mimic her accent, and becoming crestfallen when he failed. He hoped she wouldn't notice his feeble attempt.
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Post by Nike Kennedy on Apr 16, 2009 14:18:39 GMT -5
"Perhaps, I have few friends. My name is Fitzwilliam, but I am also called Fitz, for short. Why are you here?"
“Well nice ta meet ya, Fitz.” She stretched her legs out and leaned back on her arms as she pondered his question. “I’m not sure, exactly, why I’m here,” she admitted honestly. “I finished my selling in Queens and just decided The Bronx needed exploring. And then I came upon you and, well,” she smiled, “I already told you why I sat down… So what about you, what are you doing here, Fitz?”
She had heard a hint of an Irish accent in his voice and, though it was distorted by another accent she couldn’t place, it was still detectable. “You come over from the old country? From Ireland?” She grinned at him, hoping she wasn’t asking too many questions.
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