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Post by Administrator on Apr 23, 2009 23:07:14 GMT -5
Purchase you musical wears here
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Post by Don't Ask on May 8, 2009 0:48:53 GMT -5
Don't Ask had drifted past the music store a number of times in the last few weeks. It seemed that each time he passed, there was a beautiful melody drifting out from somewhere inside, urging him to stop and listen. He'd always wonder who was playing--whether it was live, or a finely-tuned gramophone he was hearing. He'd never caught more than a few bars here and there, always too busy to linger for more than a moment.
Now, however, Mr. Purdy had elected to close the smithy a couple hours early, as the heat from the forge mixing with the humidity in the air made the forge unbearably stuffy. Even Horseshoe, Don't Ask's ever-faithful dog, had relegated himself to sitting just outside the smithy door, his tongue lolling constantly. With a bit of unexpected free time on his hands, Don't Ask opted to talk a walk through midtown, and found himself passing the store yet again.
Removing his belt, he tied Horseshoe to the railing of the steps leading up to the door, giving the dog a gentle scratch behind the ears. "Wait for me, I won't be long," he promised. Horseshoe turned in a circle and laid down, nestling himself against the building's foundation, out of the way of the passers-by, content to watch the foot traffic for now.
Don't Ask trotted up the steps and stepped into the coolness of the front room of the store, and found himself surrounded by beautiful instruments of all varieties. Strings, brass, woodwinds--this store catered to them all and more.
The display directly opposite the door, alongside the counter, caught Don't Ask's eye right away, though. A collection of stringed instruments, two violins, a bass, a viola. In the middle, a cello, sharing the same gleaming polished wood as the rest of the set, the horsehair in the bow completely intact, no broken strands or rosin stains. It looked almost identical to the cello Don't Ask's father owned, albeit in better condition. (Though Don't Ask's father babied his cello and kept it perfectly tuned and clean at all times, it was rapidly working its way toward being an antique, and bore a few scratches and scars from its years.)
Don't Ask, entranced by the beauty of the instrument in its untarnished state, reached out his fingers to stroke the strings, but pulled back quickly. Suddenly feeling awkward, he realized that he was standing in the middle of a room of beautiful finery, wearing his grubby, soot-smeared work shirt and trousers. He didn't belong here.
He turned to go.
((...How is it that I can't get past my writer's block for my novel, but I can come here and write half a chapter in a single post? XD))
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Post by elizabethmason on May 8, 2009 1:14:57 GMT -5
((lol beats me! i love your long posts tho ^^))
Elizabeth was up in her apartment, tending to the pot of soup that simmered on her stove. She hummed to herself as she stirred, feeling perfectly content. Her door was cracked open slightly so she could hear the bell above the store entrance if a customer came by. When the familiar, soft ding came, she wiped her hands on a towel and put the lid on her soup. It would simmer nicely while she was gone, bringing the flavor of the chicken into the broth.
Once downstairs, she saw the boy who was, well, ‘ogling’ was really the only word she could think of for the way he looked at the beautiful instruments. She observed him quietly for a few seconds, trying to discern which were his favourites, and which would fit him the best. Aha. She saw his eyes light up: the Cello.
He reached out a hand, almost involuntarily it seemed, to touch the shiny metal strings, but at the last second withdrew his hand. He looked down at himself and then turned to leave, a frown creasing his face.
“Leaving so soon?” She asked softly, knowing he would still be able to hear her.
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Post by Don't Ask on May 8, 2009 1:49:46 GMT -5
((Ha! Call my publisher, tell them long-windedness is in again! Maybe I'd get something other than the standard rejection form letter then. XD))
“Leaving so soon?”
Don't Ask leaped a mile out of his skin and back again at the unexpected voice. Whirling around, he realized a woman had materialized at the other end of the counter, and was probably the owner of the disembodied voice.
Holding one hand to his chest (gosh, he'd never realized his heart could hammer that hard...), he swallowed nervously. "Er, I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't go touching things that don't belong to me. Especially when I'm filthy." He gestured down to his sooty clothes. "It's just, my father plays. The cello, I mean. And if he saw this one, all shiny and perfect..." He trailed off, his eyes drifting back to the pristine instrument. He was shocked and embarrassed to feel his eyes prickle with tears and turned away, feigning wiping his sweaty face to rub at his eyes. "I'd really like to be able to get something like this for him someday, is all."
His composure regained, he cleared his throat and turned to face to woman again. "Anyway, I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll get out of here before I track any more dirt on the floor. Have a good day."
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Post by valerie on May 17, 2009 11:29:38 GMT -5
Valerie had entered quietly, after stopping to pet the sweet dog at the door, in time to hear Don't Ask's admiration of the instrument. The boy looked terribly dirty, a blacksmith no doubt. Valerie rooted about in her small purse before finding her handkerchief. The boy was beginning to leave when she'd taken it out. But she was blocking the doorway a bit anyhow and held the white cloth out to him.
"But an instrument can always be cleaned, if you're that worried about it." She smiled warmly to him, "Do you play?"
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Post by Don't Ask on May 18, 2009 12:38:07 GMT -5
Don't Ask turned to go, but found a woman blocking his path. Startled, he jerked back, glancing furtively to the door she was barring him from. He thought it best that he leave, so very far from his element, but wouldn't dare let himself push by the young lady in the way; he would surely leave sooty smears on her clothes if he even brushed past her.
She was holding her handkerchief out to him. Hesitantly, he took it, and tried to wipe the soot from his face and hands with it. He was marginally cleaner--wouldn't leave black fingerprints on everything, at least--but the white handkerchief was now a mottled grey and black. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to return the filthy thing to her now or not.
"But an instrument can always be cleaned, if you're that worried about it. Do you play?"
"Yes. Er, no. Well--" Argh, he was confusing himself now. "Only a little bit," he explained. "Not much beyond scales and, you know--" (He laughed in spite of himself.) "--Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. My papi is the musician in our family. He plays beautifully. He always tried to teach me, but..." Don't Ask raised a hand, waggling his thick fingers. "Kinda clumsy. I'd rather listen to him play anyway."
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Post by valerie on May 18, 2009 13:38:37 GMT -5
Valerie smiled, shaking her head, "Oh anyone can be taught how to play. You just need a good teacher." She opened her small purse, taking a small piece of stock paper out. Her name and address typed on it, lavender flowers accenting the edges.
"I teach almost anything if you're willing to give it a try. First lesson's free."
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Post by Don't Ask on May 23, 2009 20:59:22 GMT -5
"You'd have to be supplying the instruments, too," Don't Ask said wryly, but took the card graciously anyway. He inspected it, taking in the lavender border, glanced at the back of the card, and gave it a quick sniff before tucking it into his shirt pocket. "Just a smithing apprentice, and I send most of my wages home to my papi. Can barely afford the soot that holds my clothes together."
Don't Ask pondered something for a moment, then glanced nervously to Valerie. "Do, ah... do you teach violin?" he asked, chewing on his thumbnail.
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Post by valerie on May 27, 2009 14:26:32 GMT -5
A little stunned by his answer, she merely stared at him for a moment. Then, once he'd asked his question, she pursed her lips momentarily and answered, "Yes, I do."
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Sept 12, 2009 21:28:15 GMT -5
[New Day]
Daisy walked into the music shop, glancing around with a smile. If she were here for another reason, perhaps she'd take the time to look around, listen to the music, absorb the atmosphere because it was pleasant and beautiful here, but there were things far more pressing on Daisy's mind. She's been hearing murmurings at the pub about the owner of the music shop being the place where the Newsies were going to go when they got back....if there were injuries. And the truth was, Daisy couldn't just sit there and do...nothing.
So she had come to offer her help, to do what she could because she was good at nursing and loved it, had discovered that when the outbreak happened a few years back. Walking up to the counter she looked around, searching for the woman named Elizabeth, perhaps there was something Daisy could help with now.
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Post by elizabethmason on Sept 12, 2009 21:59:41 GMT -5
Rushing around frantically, Elizabeth gathered the things she would need. Blankets, clean rags, etc. She bit her thumbnail, wondering how she was going to get all this to Irving Hall by herself. Perhaps she could hire a wagon? The huge pot of vegetable soup on the stove began sizzling and she rushed over to tend to it. She would definitely need to hire a buggy at least. Just then the bell over the door rang, causing Elizabeth to jump. Another newsie perhaps? She’d already put the closed sign out, so it shouldn’t be a customer, but she hadn’t locked it (just in case).
Once down stairs she saw a girl who appeared to be about 17 or 18. She was rather pretty, nicely dressed too, but had the same mix of anxiousness and determination on her face that Benji had had. Elizabeth calmed herself a bit before speaking, “Can I help you, dear?”
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Sept 12, 2009 22:03:48 GMT -5
Daisy almost jumped at the sound of the voice and turned to face the woman who appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She looked anxious and like perhaps Dasiy might have interrupted her and Daisy instantly felt bad. "I'm so sorry to bother you Miss Mason," Daisy apologized, assuming she was in fact talking to Elizabeth Mason, the woman she'd heard about. "I just...I had heard that you'd be helping the Newsies tonight and I came to offer my help."
Daisy straightened slightly and tried not to think about Dodger and the rest of her friends preparing to march into who knows what. "I can nurse a little. I helped at the quarantine during the outbreak a few years back and I helped deliver Miz Aria's baby when she had it. I...I just...I want to do something to help."
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Post by elizabethmason on Sept 12, 2009 22:20:36 GMT -5
As the girl explained why she was here, Elizabeth smiled widely. “Thank heaven! Oh I’ve been going crazy with wondering how I would do everything by my self! Can you really nurse?” This girl was the answer to Elizabeth’s prayers. Not only was she willing to help, she had experience! Miss. Mason went immediately into action, “We’ll probably have to hire a buggy or wagon of some sort, there’s a lot to carry! I have soup cooking on the stove now, you can come on up Miss...” she suddenly realized she didn’t know her name. “Sorry, what’s you name, love?”
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Sept 12, 2009 22:23:59 GMT -5
"I can a little," Daisy affirmed, a wide smile breaking across her features because it felt good to actually be able to do something. I learned a lot during the outbreak and I've been reading up some. And I'm able and willing," Daisy said, holding out her hands and then widened her eyes as Elizabeth fired off a list of things they needed to do.
"I can handle finishing the soup if you want to try and get everything else together," Daisy offered, starting for the stairs, mentally running a list in her mind of things they might need, how they could make this work...the two of them. That's when Elizabeth's question registered and she smiled again. "Daisy...my name is Daisy. And I'm here to help as long as you need me." She'd figure out a way around her shifts at McGinty's...she'd have too.
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Post by elizabethmason on Sept 13, 2009 20:03:35 GMT -5
"Daisy...my name is Daisy. And I'm here to help as long as you need me."“Bless you, Daisy!” Elizabeth exclaimed happily, rushing over to give her a hug. This girl was exactly what she needed: experienced, good-natured, and attentive. Tonight was going to be a difficult one, but Daisy would make it less stressful for her. Breaking away, she moved toward the door to her living quarters, motioning for Daisy to follow. “Please call me Elizabeth, no more of this ‘Miss. Mason’ nonsense. We’re in this together now!” "I can handle finishing the soup if you want to try and get everything else together," She can cook too? How astounding! “My dear, is there anything you can’t do?”* Elizabeth asked smiling. “Yes, that would be wonderful. It just needs some seasoning and a bit more stirring. While you do that, I’m going to telephone a cab.” --moves on to Elizabeth's Appartment-- *((BONUS POINTS if you know what movie that quote is from and respond with the next line! XD))
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