Downstairs

[Danny Hughes]

Danny shrugged in his usual laid back manner, lighting his cigarette and taking a puff before speaking. "Ah I can't complain, warm weather's bringing in some business." He leaned his head back against the chair, blowing a breath of smoke up toward the ceiling. Spring was usually a great time for selling, not only because of the increased business, but the warm weather made wandering the city much more pleasant.

[Joe]

what does that say about my standards

"That you are way out of your league." Joe grinned, tipping his hat over his eyes and tapping out a rhythm on his glass bottle with his ring. "But we accept you." Joe smirked a smile in his voice though his face was in shadow.

Ah I can't complain, warm weather's bringing in some business.

"I'll drink to that." Joe muttered to make conversation. "How's Tate doin?' Joe rolled his shoulders and took a drag blowing the smoke into his hat. He was good at reading people even better at deducing from earlier conversation what was said and left unsaid. He could only think of one bubbly little thing from the Bronx.

[Danny Hughes]

((bah, sorry, spaced on this thread ))

- New Day -

Danny slowly let himself fall onto the couch, putting his feet up on the table and opening up the morning paper with a sigh. Most of the lodging house had emptied by this time, and with solitude being a rare commodity in Brooklyn, it was one of Danny's favorite times of day. He hadn't been selling much himself lately, instead walking the distance to Manhattan to make some dough at the boxing ring there. Currently he had a nice shiner and an almost certainly broken finger, but after half a dozen fights over the past couple days, he was doing pretty damn good.

Throwing the paper down on the table and leaning back into the couch he yawned, searching his pockets a moment before pulling out a cigarette and quickly lighting it up. The only thing, in Danny's estimation, that was holding back this place from being paradise was some hot coffee. He was a man of simple pleasures.

[Smarty Jones]

After the gailstorm in Smarty Jones' stomach settled, she felt as if she could breathe again. Since around four o'clock in the morning she had been stuck in the washroom with her head bent over the sink, as her meals that past day paid her a second visit. It was probably that meat, she was thinking, it didn't look right, but it was cheap and it was better than nothing. Each time she tried to rise, another surge of crippling nausea sent her to her knees again.

The nausea continued all through the morning, and was finally subsiding. She got up from her bunk and walked down the stairs. It was already too late to but her papers, so if she wanted to eat today she would have to sell the afternoon edition with all the pansies and scabs, which she hated.

As she descended into the main room of the lodging house, Smarty was surprised to see Danny sitting with his newspaper on the couch. She expected him to be either selling or at the ring. That was some shiner on him, too. Smarty came to the landing and busied herself with Danny's newspaper. "You ain't plannin' on earning money today or what?"

[Danny Hughes]

Danny took a long drag on his cigarette, eyeing her as he did so and noticing her unusually pale complexion. "Nah," he began, blowing out a puff of smoke, "This beauty already earned me my way for the week." He gestured to his eye with a small grin before leaning his head back on the cushions, looking up at the ceiling contentedly as he took another drag. "You alright?" He didn't generally like getting involved in other people's business, but well, the girl really didn't look so good.

[Smarty Jones]

"Nah. This beauty already earned me my way for the week."

Smarty whistled at the black eye. "That's one for the books, my friend," she said admiringly. Smarty didn't get into fights as often as some people, but it was at the point now where she didn't mind a black eye. Once it stopped throbbing it only hurt when you prodded at it. She was never the type to make a big show out of getting hurt, any way. Since she was a child, she'd fall and scrape her knee and get right back up again.

"You alright?"

She tossed down the newspaper. "Oh, you mean beside the fact I was blowing grits all night long? Yeah, couldn't be better." She gave a wry smile, and realized she needed to eat something. Lord, it was a pain being sick. No matter how tough you were, if you felt like crap on the inside there was nothing you could do about it. "You got any food on ya? Needless to say, I don't got much in me right yet."

[Danny Hughes]

"That's one for the books, my friend,"

He smirked, raising his cigarette up in 'cheers' sort of gesture.

"Oh, you mean beside the fact I was blowing grits all night long? Yeah, couldn't be better. You got any food on ya? Needless to say, I don't got much in me right yet."

He raised his eyebrows at her blunt description, smirking slightly, but a hint of concern could almost be detected in his ever-present laid back attitude. "Here," He shifted his weight on the couch, fishing through his pocket before coming up with some coins. Holding them out to her he shrugged. "No food, but I've got more'n enough to eat for a few days, you shouldn't sell today." He offered her a few quarters, enough for a good meal by newsie standards.

[Smarty Jones]

"Here. No food, but I've got more'n enough to eat for a few days, you shouldn't sell today."

Smarty hid her surprised look at the money he held out to her. "What do I need all that for?" she said, and took only one of the quarters from his hand. It would buy her something excellent at one of the restaurants, and thinking about how her stomach had been, she wasn't going to eat a whole lot. A quarter would probably last her for two days.

"I owes you one," she said, pocketing the coin. She wouldn't pay him back the quarter--unless that was exactly what he asked for. She liked to repay debts in other ways. If someone loaned her money, she would have their back in a fight. If someone shared food, she'd treat them to a few of their papers the next day. The reciprocation wasn't always appropriate to the gesture, but it was something.

She caught sight of his black eye again, and was suddenly curious. Brazenly, she asked, "So how in the hell you get that shiner, eh? Who clocked you all that hard?" Smarty didn't enjoy hearing about fights half as much as she enjoyed being in them, but if she couldn't do the latter, there was always the former. She sat heavily on the table, and as she listened, turned herself around in both directions, her spine cracking multiple times each way. Much better.

[Danny Hughes]

"What do I need all that for?"

Danny just smirked as she left the other coins, he obviously had more of an appetite than the petite girl.

"I owes you one,"

Pocketing the remaining coins he nodded, grinning slightly. "An' don' you forget it." He took another drag of his cigarette and regained his former position blowing smoke up toward the ceiling and gazing lazily at the dusty rafters.

"So how in the hell you get that shiner, eh? Who clocked you all that hard?"

Danny tucked his hands behind his head, his cigarette dangling between his lips as he spoke. "Mason, up in 'hattan," He smirked slightly at the memory. "Big guy, but," he shrugged, his amused smirk suddenly taking on the slightest hint of cockiness, "guy can't take a punch." The reason Danny was able to make as much as he did at the ring wasn't because of a good right hook or brute strength; it was his ability to deter his opponents by being consistently unaffected by their blows. It was a method he'd learned back in the Scottish pubs, stealing confidence was the fastest way to victory.

[spotconlon]

<<new Day>>

The mighty Spot Conlon was back. Back and angry. Spending 6 months working on a chain gang in Pennsylvania was enough to get a guy riled up for anything...and he was sure that none of his kids ever had a clue. Hell--he'd be surprised if Smalls didn't see him and throttle him immediately.

But when a person is 19, and gets caught stealing from the former mayor of New York...well...he gets sent away. No Refuge for him. But..it could have been worse--a chain gang was outside, at least. He had become stronger, smarter..made some friends there.

Hell, some of them might come down here after they were finished with their sentences, too.

Stepping into his Lodging House, he swung his cane idly, his feet pounding on the wooden floor as he looked around.

"Brooklyn! Report!" He called out, listening to the sound echo in the room. Well, he'd see what he had left.

[Lucky Volpecillia]

Lucky was washing her hair when she heard the yelling, oh shit. Conlon was back. She came downstairs toweling her hair dry. She was still working at that German restaurant on Kings and didn't sell papers anymore but the lodging house was still home.

"Welcome back, Conlon, you look... " big, buff. And she didn't want to ask him if he'd grown a couple inches because that would get her teeth knocked in. "The sun treat you well? What happened?" No warnings either.. but they were still there mostly. Where did they have to go really?

[Fighter Mallory]

Fight lifted her head from her pillow when she heard Conlon's call. A smirk crossed her face as she sat up and lit a cigarette before pulling on a button up shirt. She ran a hand through her hair pushing it out of her face and stood up, stretching. It had been one hell'uva night. She'd almost had another run in with the coppers and she had a feeling she wasn't the only one they were hounding. For God's sake she'd only been walking home from the pub when one of them called out to her. She knew better than to approach a cop and had run in the opposite direction. It had taken her an hour to lose the bastard but she had. Now of course she was paying for it since she'd gotten barely any sleep.

Walking downstairs towards the sound of Lucky's voice, Fight took another drag of her cigarette and a quick gulp from the flask that she now kept on her at all times. Fighter tucked it away in her pocket before entering the room. When she caught sight of Conlon her eyebrow drifted up a fraction of an inch at his appearance, but she didn't show her surprise any other way. He looked pretty good, but she knew better than to gawk at her leader. That's what Zeke was for. Fight flashed them both a smirk. "Lucky...Conlon...Nice to have you back."

[Danny Hughes]

Danny took a final drag on his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and shifting his weight from where he was leaning against the building. He couldn't suppress a small smirk at the voice he heard, but it was replaced by his usual apathetic stare as he pulled open the rusty screen door and stepped into the room. It wasn't that he was particularly close with the Brooklyn leader, and he admired Lucky for bearing the brunt of the responsibility in his absence, but the borough just wasn't the same without him and that damn cane.

Joining the others he leaned against the nearby wall, offering a slight head nod in greeting to Spot. Nothing beyond that was ever necessary or expected with Danny.

[muse]

Muse looked up from the newspaper she was reading as the voice rang out. The voice was new to her, tossing the paper down on her bed she stood and walked out of the bunk room and down the stairs stopping half way as she saw Lucky, Fighter, Danny, and a guy she didn't recognize. But judging by the way he was standing and the cane he held in his hand this was no other then the Brooklyn Leader himself. She maybe new to Brooklyn but she knew about Spot Conlon.

She continued her way down the stairs till she reached the last step and leaned against the railing looking at Spot.

[Zeke Cooper]

Zeke came in from the back door, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen lighting his smoke, he nodded at Fighter then at Spot and took a long drag before he smirked a bit. "Welcome back, boss.." he did consider Spot the captain and boss of this joint.

He didn't recognize the new girl, then again Lucky was toweling off her hair and-- where the blazes was Smalls at?