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Post by dot on Aug 2, 2008 14:11:04 GMT -5
"It was wondaful. I was nice and warm.What time is it?"
Dot blushed when he said that it was nice and warm, but she giggled when he said it to. "Umm i'm not shoa, its probably 'round lunch time though' " answered Dot, her head was still on his shoulder.
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Post by dot on Aug 2, 2008 14:18:02 GMT -5
"Well, then do ya wanna go get some lunch at Lanni's? I'll pay foah it."
Dot lifted her head and looked Firecracker in the eyes, "You don't have ta." protested Dot.
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Post by firecracker on Aug 2, 2008 14:20:47 GMT -5
"You don't have ta."
He smiled. " I might not have ta, but I want ta." After he said that, he kissed her on the cheek and rubbed her leg.
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Post by dot on Aug 2, 2008 14:25:57 GMT -5
"I might not have ta, but I want ta."
Dot knew that she wasn't gonna win this so she just gave in. "Ok." Dot stood up and leaned against the Gazebo.
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Post by firecracker on Aug 2, 2008 14:27:58 GMT -5
"Ok."
"Yay!" Fire said like a girl, then started laughing.
(I'll post at Lanni's, and meet you there, ok? )
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Post by smokey on Aug 13, 2008 23:59:33 GMT -5
*New Day*
Smokey sat with her arms on her knees and her head resting on her fists, looking down at the concrete with a puzzled look on her face as if thinking that somewhere in the stony gravel, there was all the answers the life's secrets.
It had only been a few days since she heard the news about her mother and where else would she happen to hear it but on the streets. A red-head six-year-old newsboy shouted out the headline of the shipwreck with such enthusiasm it almost made Smokey forget for a split second that her mother had been one of the passengers. Her life had changed drastically from that moment. She knew she could no longer be a little girl running the streets, but that it was now time for her to become an adult.
Dropping her nickname, Smokey...Marzena let go of the only part of her mother she had left besides a few photographs around the house. For a while she panicked about what she was gonna do. She couldn't go back to Manhattan. Perhaps her father heard about what happened and was already making plans to send for her. Of course, he had to know about it. Marzena sighed, slouching against the back of the bench, feeling all but rejuvenated.
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Mar 5, 2010 22:14:36 GMT -5
[New Day]
It had been unseasonably warm the past few days and Daisy had decided to take advantage of it with a walk through Prospect Park. The stop off in the gazebo had been partly happenstance and partly by design, the small wooden structure one of her favorite places in the city. It was quiet and peaceful with the beauty of the park, just beginning to come alive after a dormant winter stretching out around her. One of the books she had borrowed from Jerry was settled in her lap, but lay there unused as she gazed out over the grass, still slightly yellowed from the long winter.
Her thoughts turned to her friends, many of whom she hadn't seen since the mess at the warehouse, or before. She hoped they were well, wish more of them stopped by McGinty's when they had a moment, just so she would know they were alright. She'd heard rumblings of the death of a boy from the Bronx and she wondered how Dodger was, maybe she should make a pie and swing by and see him. She wondered after Lucky, who hadn't been by the pub recently and Daisy, as was her nature, worried. She had even been keeping an eye out for Scar who had been scarce recently.
In her heart, she knew they were all likely fine. Pulling through with the mettle and unique brand of courage and strength that the streets of New York forced upon you. Daisy just hoped that they smiled a little when they had the chance...everyone deserved a bit of happiness.
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Post by Don't Ask on Mar 25, 2010 23:33:06 GMT -5
Don't Ask was wandering further and further from home these days. As he was getting more competent in the duties of a blacksmith and farrier, Mr. Purdy was trusting him on more jobs alone, and Don't Ask was taking his time when he was sent out. He was certainly in no rush to return to Manhattan these days.
Today has been a big day, as Mr. Purdy had entrusted Don't Ask with the task of going out to Sheepshead and shoeing a thoroughbred. Granted, it wasn't a big job, only the re-shoeing of a single hoof where the horse had thrown an old shoe, but to be relegated in the maintenance of a racehorse of a such a big-time racetrack as the Sheepshead was quite a feather in Don't Ask's cap. The horse was older, wouldn't be racing much longer, and well accustomed to the practices of being shod; he'd been no trouble and the entire process, from prying the old nails out of the horse's hoof to fitting him with the new shoe and hammering it into place, had taken less than a quarter of an hour.
As a reward for his first big-time job, Don't Ask had allowed himself and Horseshoe an extra break, taking a stroll through Prospect Park. There was a point in time when he would have avoided a trek through Brooklyn by himself, but the tiny shred of fear that once developed when he saw those Brooklyn kids had shriveled and died following the battle at the warehouse. Not only had he proven himself as a competent fighter with his smithy tools, he'd also earned a modicum of respect from one of the borough's biggest bitches for having balls enough to provide the fighters with heated branding irons.
And it didn't hurt that his dog trotted loyally at his side, and his blacksmith's hammer was hooked in one of his belt loops, easily grabbed and used to defend oneself, either.
Wandering the park trails, he'd spied the empty gazebo through the budding trees and headed toward it, hoping to spend a few minutes contemplating the water and meadow before making the journey back to Manhattan. But when he reached it, he found it wasn't deserted after all.
"Oh!" he started, surprised by the presence of the girl with the book on her lap. "Er, sorry. I didn't... think anyone was here. Didn't see you sittin' there." He turned to go and leave her in peace with her book, but Horseshoe decided otherwise. Marching purposefully up the step and into the shade of the gazebo, the dog strode right up to the girl, hopped on the bench beside her, and laid down, his head on his paws near her knee.
"Uh... Horseshoe? Come here, boy, leave her alone." Don't Ask gave a short whistle between his teeth, but the dog was unfazed, remaining where he lay, lifting his eyes to the girl and thumping his tail meekly on the wooden bench.
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Mar 29, 2010 17:47:27 GMT -5
A soft voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked over to see a boy standing at one of the entrances to the gazebo, apparently having expected to find the tiny structure empty. He turned to leave almost immediately, issuing apologies that Daisy held up her hands to refuse. "No...no, it's alright," She protested as the boy turned, though his dog seemed to have other thoughts in mind.
His furry companion seemed to have his own plans as he crossed the gazebo and hopped up on the bench beside Daisy, settling down and looking up at her with big brown eyes that she instantly fell in love with. "Well hello there," She said to the dog and glanced back over at it's owner who was whistling for him to come to no avail. "Horseshoe? Is that your name?" She asked the dog, who tilted it's head at her as she spoke and thumped it's tail against the wooden bench.
"I don't think he wants to leave," She said, smiling at the boy as she reached out her hand so Horseshoe could sniff at it before settling it into his fur and stroking his head gently. "He's hardly a bother and neither are you if you'd like to come on in," She motioned to the empty spaces beside her as she scratched idly behind the dog's ears. "I find I rather enjoy company, even if it's the quiet kind."
She smiled encouragingly and then caught the boy's gaze before looking back down at the dog. " I'm Daisy."
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Post by Don't Ask on Apr 14, 2010 20:53:37 GMT -5
There was another protest on Don't Ask's tongue, ready for launch as he made a quick retreat, but Horseshoe's insistence that it was time to stop for a handshake and headrub stilled it. With a sigh of reluctant acceptance, he mounted the steps into the gazebo and took a seat on the bench near Daisy, the dog lain out between them.
"Don't Ask," he said by way of greeting, then clarified: "I mean, they call me Don't Ask. And yeah, the mutt shamelessly begging for a belly rub is Horseshoe." The dog, happily sucking up Daisy's attentions, had squirmed his way over on his side and was trying to work himself belly-up without falling off the bench. An impossible task, but the dog was nothing if not persistent. And stupid.
Don't Ask had come looking for some privacy to mull over his thoughts, but what the hell. He had plenty of privacy in the forge, too much time for thought-mulling. Daisy seemed like a nice enough person; Horseshoe had certainly taken a shine to her, if that meant anything. And Don't Ask was pretty sure he could take her if she turned out to be one of those tigers-in-disguise Brooklyn was famous for. Leaning over, he eyed the book lying in her lap, seeking out the title. "The Jungle Book, huh? That was a good one. De Witte Zeehond was my favorite story. "De witte zeehond" is "the white"..." He trailed off for a moment, trying to think of the right word. Zeehond, what the hell was English for zeehond? "I know I've heard the right word... It means "sea dog," but that's what they call pirates, isn't it? You know, the ocean-things with the thick fur, and flippers, and they bark and lie around in the sun? They're in the cold weather a lot? They're like walruses, but smaller and prettier, with really big eyes, and the babies are stark white and fluffy, but they grow up to be dark brown and velvety?"
((Today's Dutch lesson: "Der Witte Zeehond" = "The White Seal." Really, how often does a Hungarian immigrant working as a blacksmith in NYC hear the word "seal"? The really baffling part is that he knows "walrus" but not "seal"...))
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Apr 16, 2010 19:18:24 GMT -5
"It's lovely to meet you Don't Ask," Daisy said with cheerful generosity, shooting him another warm smile as Horseshoe all but crawled into her lap to garner her full attention and she laughed, ruffling the animal's fur. "Seal..." She supplied when Don't Ask seemed at a loss for the word and the corner of her mouth lifted a little as she tilted her head to study him.
"I've only just begun to read it," She said softly, eyes falling back to the book when was now lying half on her lap and half on the bench beside her having shifted with the movement of the squirming dog. "I borrowed it from my...uh...from my suitor..." She tripped a little on the word, the novelty of it still so brand new and she felt a warmth spread in her stomach as she thought of Jerry. "He recommended it and I've found it to be enjoyable...the stories of all the animals are fascinating!"
"Where are you from?" She asked, finally just settling her hand on Horseshoe's head so she could focus her attention on Don't Ask. She had heard the language he spoke before on the streets of the city and tucked away in corners of the pub but couldn't place it.
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Post by Don't Ask on Apr 16, 2010 22:15:59 GMT -5
"Seal!" Don't Ask exclaimed, practically shouted, the elusive translation finally presenting itself. "Yes, that's it, The White Seal. De Witte Zeehond." His cheeks colored a little, a touch of embarrassment as his inability to find the right word himself. He was American-born, after all, and spoke with far less of an accent than his parents and the other Nederlandsesprekers of the community. The occasions when Don't Ask couldn't come up with the right English word made him look more like an illiterate idiot than an immigrant.
But Daisy didn't seem to be thinking along those lines now. Don't Ask could feel her glancing at him, looking him over, and he ruffled a hand through his hair nervously. Seemingly kind or not, a too-observant studying from a stranger always had the potential to cause problems for him. To his relief, though, Daisy said nothing about anything she saw, and instead gazed adoringly down at the book in her lap, as though it were a physical extension of the man she spoke of.
"Well," he said slowly, struggling to keep the silence from drawing out into awkward lengths, "if he recommended that book to you, he must be a good guy. Most people think that's a book for kids."
When she lifted her head and asked of his origins, he gave her a smile, the first genuine one to cross his lips in weeks, and responded, "Yonkers." Which was the truth--he had been born and raised in Yonkers, had never left until he came to Manhattan. Being from Yonkers tended to lend you the reputation of an oddball, and Don't Ask was tempted to playfully leave it at that, but elaborated anyway. "I was made in Belgium, though. Mijn moeder had me in her belly on the trip over here."
He paused, watching the way she looked down to the book, her fingers delicately touching the ribbed pages and tracing the embossed leather cover. The way she spoke of the novel's owner, the way she seemed to delight in calling him "her suitor" touched Don't Ask, caused a dull ache deep in his chest that had nothing to do with the tightness of his binder. "You know you light up when you talk about him, right?" he blurted, grinning over her obvious happiness. Thinking of what had transpired in the forge again, Don't Ask wished he could manage such an easy, uncomplicated happiness.
((Today's Dutch lesson: "Nederlandsesprekers" = "Dutch-speakers".))
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Apr 17, 2010 14:55:13 GMT -5
"He's the best kind of guy," Daisy said at Don't Ask's comment, smile coming easily as she thought of Jerry and the precious way he'd handled the book as he gave it to her to borrow. "A children's book perhaps, but sometimes you can miss a lot by passing something over simply because you think it's not what you would like. He encouraged me to try it, I'm glad that he did."
Her smile brightened a little more as he spoke of being from Yonkers but born in the boat on the way over from Belgium. "Aye, I thought I recognized your language but couldn't quite place it...I'm from Ireland," She added, cheeks flushing bright red when she realized that was one fact about herself that was fairly obvious if she spent any amount of time speaking. "I came over with my parents a few years ago, I've never really been over to Yonkers, but I know of it."
"I...I do?" Daisy said, a little stunned by Don't Ask's revelation, that the warm glowing feeling she felt inside of her whenever she thought of Jerry might show on her face. "Then I suppose it just matches how I feel on the inside," She said softly, shrugging her shoulders a little as her fingers tightened briefly around the book before she lifted her eyes and met Don't Ask's, something flashed in his eyes and though her instinct was to try and soothe it, she didn't wish to intrude. "It's all rather new, I think I'm still adjusting to the idea of having a suitor."
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