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Post by Administrator on Jul 22, 2007 19:24:57 GMT -5
Need a little privacy?
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Post by twich on Oct 6, 2007 13:09:17 GMT -5
Twich climbed up on a bar stool and ordered a drink, he lit a cigarette and took a long drag on it he tried unsuccessfully to blow a smoke ring he sighed and looked around for someone to play cards with but the bar seamed empty.
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Post by bottlecap on Aug 10, 2008 0:24:21 GMT -5
[NEW DAY]
It was probably for the best that Maeby keep to herself the fact that she found Mabel's ambition to be endearing. The whole idea of one voice making a difference had been done and while it had made something of a difference, they were still back in the same old rut. It seemed to Maeby that if someone was going to stick their neck out, it should be for the long run, not just for a temporary fix.
"I been out on these streets long enough to know how to hold my own in a fight, but I ain't a fan of it." She admitted with a little shrug. Maeby was 5'2" and 118 soaking wet, so she wasn't fool enough to think she could take a male. If a female, however, got in her face, she did pack a vicious punch. That, and she was fast and nimble--a thief. "I'll leave the brawlin' to the boys." She grinned.
"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?"
Maeby adjusted the strap of her messenger bag as Mabel debated, and while she did see every point in pristine clearity, she still saw no solutions to the current issue. "Yeah, in theory." There was a note of cynicism to her tone, though. "If I'm in a gang fight, then yeah. I wanna be on the side with the must goons. But in this kinda political bullshit?" She shook her head, "Nah, its all about money and class. Numbers ain't got nothin to do with it 'less you speakin' in terms of dollars."
The two girls began to walk as they went over the unpleasant topic of an uncertain fate, and Maeby was consciously leading her new acquaintance into a more seedy area of Manhattan. To a thief, Hell's Kitchen was like a second home and a breeding grounds for crime. To a girl like Mabel, it was probably something totally different.
"I like to come here sometimes." She explained as they reached the dingy pub. It was full of shady characters even at mid-day but the girl strode in confidently nonetheless. She looked so comfortable that those who had glanced up at their entrance mostly carried on with their drinking soon enough. "I'm a barmaid over in Brooklyn, so its a nice change."
'Nice' was the last thing you'd expect the joint to be called, actually.
"C'mon, this one's on me." She smiled, taking a seat at the far end of the bar and summoning the bartender with a snap of her fingers. "Hey Joe, bourbon for me and for her..." she gestured to Mabel to select her drink.
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Post by mabel on Aug 10, 2008 13:22:38 GMT -5
I'll leave the brawlin' to the boys."
Mabel nodded, following a few paces behind Maeby. While Mabel would never go out of her way to start a fight with anyone, she rather fancied that others might. Not wanting to be in a fight meant nothing if your opponent kept throwing punches. Mabel had found that the fetal position did wonders when facing her grubby little cousins as a child, maybe it would help her now. She'd stick to what she knew: running, pleading, and hiding.
As Maeby went on to discuss her theory on power in numbers, Mabel had not intended to fade her out. That said, Mabel was far too preoccupied with where they were going to listen to her companion. "This looks familiar," She said vaguely, eying the rusty fire escapes and the shady characters.
"Yes, I think I've been here before. Couldn't we-" Realizing Maeby had gone into the pub, Mabel followed quickly behind. Unfortunately, the company inside the pub looked no better then that outside of it. Ducking her head, Mabel rushed over beside Maeby, sitting herself on the very edge of a barstool.
"This wasn't really what I had in mind--" Glancing down the bar, Mabel saw a man passed out, face pressed against the wood of the bar. Raising a judgmental eyebrow, she turned back to Maeby, "There are plenty of places that are-..." she struggled to find the word, "Not... here." She finished lamely.
The last time Mabel had wandered here she had gotten terribly lost. Bumlets had been right: it was no place for her.
"Hey Joe, bourbon for me and for her..."
Mabel opened her mouth and faltered, "Uh... just a water, thank you." Mabel was not good at holding her alcohol. She had once had wine at one of her parents parties and had made a right fool of herself. The last thing she needed was to be a giggling mess.
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Post by bottlecap on Aug 10, 2008 22:59:21 GMT -5
Being a rather perceptive character, it was easy for Maeby to sense the uneasiness in her companion's tone and body language as they came into Hell's Kitchen. Her discomfort only multiplied once Maeby led them into the pub, and yet she didn't relent in her path and said nothing to acknowledge the fact that this was certainly no place for a girl like Mabel Fitzpatrick.
"There are plenty of places that are-..." she struggled to find the word, "Not... here." She finished lamely.
Maeby smirked a little at Mabel, liking her more and more each moment for the straight-forwardness of the way she expressed herself. Most would have feigned ease when with someone new like Maeby, but not Mabel. She seemed utterly true to whatever she might be feeling at the given moment, and Maeby admired that freedom.
"Don't be silly." She smiled comfortingly, "This'll be fine, Mabe, don't worry so much." It should be here noted that it felt weird to be calling someone else Mabe, since it was so close to her own name.
"Uh... just a water, thank you."
Joe sneered at Mabel liked she'd just cursed his mother, but Maeby quickly recovered the situation, "Make that rum and coke for her." She smiled, nudging Mabel gently to keep her from voicing her disagreement. Once the burly man had sloshed their drinks into glasses and placed them before the girls, he stumped away with a low grumble.
"Never," she turned to Mabel, speaking in a quiet tone, "never order a water at a pub." Speaking from her own experience as a barmaid, there could be no greater insult than to have someone walk in off the street and ask for a water. Mostly because it was free and came with no gratuity. Only the hoities had the nerve to do that, and the last thing Mabel should want when in Hell's Kitchen was to stick out like that.
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Post by mabel on Aug 10, 2008 23:14:06 GMT -5
"Make that rum and coke for her."
Mabel opened her mouth to object, but was quieted by an elbow to the ribs. Frowning at Maeby, she pushed herself back onto her stool and rested her hands awkwardly in her lap. Mabel, while yet unhappy with their whereabouts, took some comfort in Maeby, who looked just as comfortable here as she had in Central Park. If trouble came their way, at least one of them would have some sense of the place.
"Never," she turned to Mabel, speaking in a quiet tone, "never order a water at a pub."
Mabel scoffed, "Excuse me, but I can order whatever I please." At her remark, the burly bartender turned back on the pair with quite the unhappy expression. Mabel quickly looked down, cupping her hands around the glass of her drink. "-But this will be fine, thank you."
Taking a tentative sip, Mabel scrunched her nose--the taste was unfamiliar to her. Still, the heat would keep her from objecting to the cold beverage. Glancing at Maeby, Mabel frowned. "So, tell me, why was a seedy pub better then, say, Tibby's?"
"Then again," She sighed, sipping her drink, "It is cooler in her." And smellier... but Mabel wasn't about to say anything that brought that bartender storming her way. He'd crush her like a bug.
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Post by bottlecap on Aug 10, 2008 23:42:15 GMT -5
"Excuse me, but I can order whatever I please."
For the first time since meeting Mabel, Maeby had the urge to smack her. Her need to snap back when she was only trying to keep her from her own demise was insulting, yet she kept a cool head about it. Joe quickly made Mabel change her mind, however, and that allowed Maeby to overlook the offence.
"Orderin' a water's an insult to a bartender." She explained to Mabel in a soft tone so as not to be easily overheard, "An' in Hell's Kitchen, its also like wearin' a sign that says, 'Oi! I'm new here, rob me blind.' Y'better off jus' drinkin' a bit o' rum." She suggested with a bit of a shrug.
"So, tell me, why was a seedy pub better then, say, Tibby's?"
"S'closest to where we were." Maeby answered easily, sipping her amber liquid with ease. "That, an' I'm a barmaid in Brooklyn. Kinda feel obligated to support pubs like mine instead o' joints like Tibby's when I'm off my own territory, if y'get me." Sure, it didn't make much sense, but Maeby was fiercely loyal. She knew if Joe was in Brooklyn, he would take a pint at McGinty's and leave her a nice tip. It was a respect thing.
"So," she shifted to lean against the bartop with an elbow with her drink in the opposite hand, "what's it like? Y'know, the whole... family thing." It was hard for Maeby to fathom what it might be like to have a mother and father, and she couldn't decide if she was better off without or not.
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Post by mabel on Aug 11, 2008 0:31:48 GMT -5
"Orderin' a water's an insult to a bartender." She explained to Mabel in a soft tone so as not to be easily overheard, "An' in Hell's Kitchen, its also like wearin' a sign that says, 'Oi! I'm new here, rob me blind.' Y'better off jus' drinkin' a bit o' rum."
"Insult?" Mabel asked incredulously, "Well, I'm sorry they take my choice of beverage to heart. And robbing me won't do any good--I haven't got a penny to my name right now... I have nothing on me that could interest any of them." Mabel did not realize that there was more then money to interest the seedier company found in Hell's Kitchen.
"That, an' I'm a barmaid in Brooklyn. Kinda feel obligated to support pubs like mine instead o' joints like Tibby's when I'm off my own territory, if y'get me."
Mabel blinked, "Thought you were a- well, y'know. I suppose a job on the side is a good idea, though." Looking around the place, Mabel could see that the place definitely needed "support" from people like Maeby. It was in quite a state, but, then again, so was all of Hell's Kitchen. Breathing deeply, Mabel's senses were assaulted by cigarette smoke and the unpleasant smell of unbathed males (a scent she'd grown quite accustom to, living in the lodging house).
As she continued to nurse her drink, Mabel found herself becoming less tense. Even the bar fight in the corner wasn't causing her alarm. Perhaps Maeby had been right in ordering her the drink.
"So," she shifted to lean against the bartop with an elbow with her drink in the opposite hand, "what's it like? Y'know, the whole... family thing."
"Sorry?" Mabel asked, not quite understanding Maeby's meaning. "My family, you mean? I don't know. Not good, as of late, but they're all good people. My father's smart and kind- perhaps a bit standoffish, but a good man. He's looking for work these days," She bit her lip, glancing down at the worn wood of the bar. "And my mother's a lovely women- always knows what to do when things get hard. I have an older sister, too, but she's in school. Smarter than anyone I know, she is."
"What about your family?" Mabel had not grasped that Maeby had asked her the question as someone who did not have a family support system like she did. It still baffled Mabel, the amount of orphaned kids who wandered the streets of New York, living off pennies, without a mother or father to run home to when times got tough.
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Post by bottlecap on Aug 12, 2008 22:08:38 GMT -5
"Well, I'm sorry they take my choice of beverage to heart. And robbing me won't do any good--I haven't got a penny to my name right now... I have nothing on me that could interest any of them."
Maeby had to smirk at this indignant response, because already she was coming to see that these things were so very much like Mabel. She couldn't explain her endearment for this new friend, but it was a growing thing. She liked the fight in the girl's tone, no matter if she was fighting for or against herself.
"Well, you see..." she endeavored to explain, "You walk into a pub and the barmaid (or man, if you will) is expecting a bit of income. Then, you order a water (free) and offer no tip." There were appropriate hand gestures to go along with the words 'man' and 'free', to emphasize her meaning. She raised her brows as though to question if it made more sense to her companion.
"You're sharp, y'know?" Maeby looked at Mabel almost in skeptical manner, but it was a blatant compliment. Not many would have picked up on Maeby's profession, believe it or not. She was quite stealthy, yet had dropped the girl a few hints. Little did she expect her to pick up on them, though.
Maeby drank her drink silently as Mabel recounted her family to her openly. It was rare that you met someone who would answer straight away like that, and yet it was fitting of Mabel. Besides, Maeby doubted that the girl had anything to be ashamed of in her past or family. Compared to some on the streets, she was more likened to royalty than slum.
"What about your family?"
It took some control not to choke on the drink she'd just taken, and when she had mastered herself, she straightened her back and set down her glass calmly. "My brother, Zero, has an apartment in Brooklyn. He works at the docks." The end. She wasn't about to expand upon other members or there whereabouts. Discussing her past was by no means an option at any point.
"How old's your sister?" She asked, more to get the attention off of herself than out of interest. "I mean, goin' to school's kind of a rarity out here. I don't think I've ever known an academy broad."
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Post by mabel on Aug 13, 2008 16:17:13 GMT -5
"You're sharp, y'know?"
Mabel smirked smugly, taking a small sip from her drink, “Yes, well, a good many years of schooling were bound to do something for me.” Her schooling consisted of her mother sitting her down and forcing her to read passages from various texts, piano lessons, and learning needle point. The latter had been a failure for Mabel, whose fingers now bore the scars of unforgiving needles.
"My brother, Zero, has an apartment in Brooklyn. He works at the docks."
“Zero,” Mabel murmured to herself, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Snapping her fingers (and nearly knocking her drink over in the process), she turned to Maeby, “Oh, I’ve met him. A nice fellow—thought he might have had siblings named One, Two, and Three!” She exclaimed, giggling at her own joke. Oh yes, Mabel was becoming positively giddy.
“What about your parents?” She asked simply, eyes wandering across the room. All of a sudden, they looked positively pleasant to Mabel’s eyes. Her inhibitions were fast disappearing and the all the tact she believed she possessed was being blown out the window.
"How old's your sister?" She asked, more to get the attention off of herself than out of interest. "I mean, goin' to school's kind of a rarity out here. I don't think I've ever known an academy broad."
“Hmm? Oh…” Mabel pressed her forefinger to her lips, “Anne… Annie is, oh, I’d say twenty. Smart, smart girl- she’s in Europe. We don’t hear from her much these days.” Anne was engaged to a wealthy British man last Mabel had heard and, ever since her father’s sordid business deals, Anne had thought it best to keep her distance. Mabel tried not to blame her.
Downing the rest of her drink, Mabel put it back on the bar—or, rather, she had intended to do so, but the glass fell on its side with a clink and rolled lazily. Holding up her hand and gesturing to Joe, she giggled, “Sorry, Joe—wouldn’t want to cause… a, uh… a ruckus.” She snorted, placing a hand over her mouth.
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Post by Christina Mathers on May 17, 2009 9:55:40 GMT -5
((New Day))
Christiana sat at the end of the bar examining the smoke escaping her cigar with much interest. After a double shift, she needed a drink.
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Post by Reid Halliway on May 17, 2009 15:04:38 GMT -5
Reid walked into the bar, glancing around at its occupants. He didn't recognize anyone but then again he rarely recognized anyone anywhere he went. Reid didn't know enough people in the city to find friends wherever he turned. Heaving a slight sigh, Reid made his way to the end of the bar and ordered a glass of scotch. Glancing next down a few stools he noticied Christiana and he couldn't stop his gaze from making it's way down her body. She was pretty, hell she was damn gorgeous. When the bartender got back he nodded his head towards her and let the bartender know to bring her another drink on him.
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Post by Christina Mathers on May 17, 2009 19:05:41 GMT -5
Christiana switched her gaze from the cigar to the cup that was placed in front of her. She looked at the bartender questioningly, who pointed to the fellow sitting a couple stools over. She downed the drink slowly, keeping her eyes on her supplier. She licked her lips, savoring the bittersweet residue left behind from the liquid.
It wasn't the first time someone had bought her a drink. It wasn't even the first time that night. Since walking into the bar, she hadn't spent a single penny, yet had already consumed four shots.
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Post by Reid Halliway on May 17, 2009 20:03:15 GMT -5
Reid gave her a friendly nod and finished his drink ordering a second. He was in the mood for a little gambling and he figured if he struck up a conversation with a pretty face she might distract the other players and he could easily take their money. He stood and walked over towards Christiana. Leaning against the bar beside her he gave her an easy smile. "What's your name?"
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Post by Christina Mathers on May 17, 2009 21:25:34 GMT -5
Christiana watched the boy as he made his way over to her, turning a few heads as well. "Christiana," she said turning toward him, "and what do you call yourself?"
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