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Post by Administrator on Apr 13, 2010 16:28:44 GMT -5
Come on down to the bank of the river! The water can be a bit chilly!
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Post by Pallet O'Shea on Dec 2, 2010 15:57:45 GMT -5
[New Day-for anyone]
Pallet stared out at the water flowing down the river with her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, and her chin resting atop her knees trying to keep herself warm. The air was becoming chilly and the frost which had sprinkled the ground earlier in the day still remained; a sure sign that winter was coming. Pallet pulled her filmsy jacket tighter around herself at the thought. She was going to have to make some extra money so that she could make sure Byron, Shamrock, and herself had everything they needed to stay warm this winter. She would need to sell some paintings, and lately inspiration to paint was hard to come across.
Pallet sighed and laid back on the cold, hard riverbank and closed her eyes. Pictures of the beautiful Galway landscapes flooded her mind. She could still remember laying in the fields looking up at the clouds passing by, with her horse grazing beside. She could feel the sun warming her face and smell the grass of the fields. She could also hear the faint laughter of the tenants' children playing nearby. Pallet smiled, thinking to herself, Oh, how I missed my home.
Pallet opened her eyes and looked up at the sky above. Suddenly, nearby she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. Startling her she quickly sat up and looked around.
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Post by Styx Kennedy on Jan 10, 2011 23:33:34 GMT -5
Those Yonkers boys could give Brooklyn a run for its money if they put their mind to it, Styx mused. They’d been an invaluable asset during The Battle and he didn’t know if he would have made it out alive if it weren’t for them. That said, he liked to visit them every so often for drinks and the swapping of stories. Yesterday had been a day for one such visit and now he was headed back to Queens. He’d not sold that morning, due to a bit of a hangover, but now it was just after lunch and he felt good as new, if not better. It’s amazing what a good long night of drinking could do for an Irishman.
On his way home from Yonkers, Styx liked to take a detour that passed by the Harlem River. It wasn’t the quickest route home, but it was definitely worth the extra walking. He shuffled along the sidewalk, the river on his left and the riverbank park on his right. He could hear the unmistakable sounds of the city close by – creaky carriages, horses, people shouting, and the odd automobile – but here by the river it was easier to ignore them and to imagine he was somewhere else entirely. He wasn’t exactly one to pine away in longing for the homeland, he’d spent too many years in Amsterdam and then in New York to really remember it, but he did miss the people. Some of his best memories were from sitting in the room while his da joked around with his mates.
Styx chuckled at the memory and continued walking. It was a blustery sort of day, with cloudy skies and dropping temperatures, but he enjoyed it thoroughly. He whistled a fast-paced Irish song as he walked, one that used to play on the phonograph back home. Up ahead he noticed a girl lying in the grass by the riverbank, still as could be. He moved closer to her quietly, wondering if she was okay, but then she moved slightly and he saw that she was just resting. He cleared his throat slightly, to let her know he was there, and she sat up quickly, whipping around to look at him. She was very pretty, he noticed, and dressed rather simply. There were a few smudges of paint on her hands and another on the ear closest to him
“Sorry to startle ya, I was just makin’ sure you were breathin,” He chuckled lightly and smiled at her. “You okay, love?”
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Post by Pallet O'Shea on Jan 11, 2011 11:01:33 GMT -5
“Sorry to startle ya, I was just makin’ sure you were breathin,” He chuckled lightly and smiled at her. “You okay, love?”Pallet placed her right hand over her heart waiting for her heartbeat to slow down. When it returned to normal, she smiled up at the young man in front of her. "Yeah, I'm fine... Although, almost died of a heart attack for a minute there," she chuckled. "Just wasn't expecting anyone else to be around I guess... Sometimes when I'm thinking about my home--before all this--" She made a gesture indicating that she was talking about NYC and continued, "I forget where I really am..." Pallet took a few minutes to observe the young man standing before her. He was tall and looked to be about her age, and when the sun shone on his blond hair it added a bit of a gold tint to it. He was built like most of the guys their age who worked the streets and his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. Altogether, quite a good-looking young man. Pallet tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear, extended her hand towards him, and smiled, "I'm Pallet."
((a/n: I wasn't quite sure if blue was the color of Styx' eyes. That's what they looked like in his pic. If they're diff let me know and i'll change it.  Also, having a bit of writer's block starting out so sorry it's not longer. As we get going it should be better.))
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Post by Styx Kennedy on Jan 17, 2011 16:06:31 GMT -5
Styx laughed at her explanation good naturedly, “Don’ worry about it, happens to the best of us.” He resisted the urge to wink at her, for, as he reasoned, a wink could scare off a girl just as easily as it could attract one and he didn’t know what type of girl this one was yet. He definitely wanted the chance to find out though, so he flashed her a lopsided grin instead. Styx was a bit of a flirt when it came to the ladies, completely incapable of turning down a pretty face. She seemed sweet too, which was a bonus that didn’t always come with the territory.
The girl offered him her hand and introduced herself, flashing him a brilliant smile in return. It was all Styx could do not to grin in triumph, at her positive response. He took her hand and kissed the back of it lightly, “Pleased ta meetchya, Pallet, I’m Styx.”
Still grinning, he took his eyes off Pallet and looked around at the park, checking to make sure there were no bulls around. Satisfied that he wouldn’t get arrested for being dirty in a public park – fuckin’ coppers – he turned back to his new acquaintance. “So, Pallet… how’d you get your nick name?” He supposed she could be a newsie since she introduced herself by her nickname, but he couldn’t see much ink on her hands; only bits of paint. He’d never met a painter before, at least not that he remembered, but he thought she had the look of an artist about her. Styx motioned to the ground next to her, silently asking if he could sit by her while they talked.
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Post by Pallet O'Shea on Jan 21, 2011 11:50:29 GMT -5
“Pleased ta meetchya, Pallet, I’m Styx.”
Pallet blushed as Styx' lips touched the back of her hand. It had been a long time since anyone was capable of causing her cheeks to turn red, let alone greeted her in such a way. Most men that she knew, who worked as Newsies, didn't have such great manners, even when they were trying to impress or flirt with a girl. It was a breath of fresh air to meet someone who didn't spit shake or slap her gently on the back as a greeting.
“So, Pallet… how’d you get your nick name?”
Pallet smiled up at Styx, scooched over a bit, and motioned for him to sit down on the ground beside her. "Well my real name is Ashleigh O'Shea, but I got the name Pallet because I'm an artist; and artist's use painting palettes to hold their paints..." She began to pick at the dried paint that was left on her fingers from when she last painted. "When I don't feel like going out to sell papers, I usually go sit somewhere and paint and try to sell my paintings... I like having the change of scene; not having to do the same mundane job everyday... And painting relaxes me," she explained, a tiny bit of an Irish lilt to her voice. Since coming to America and as many years as she has lived in NYC, she found her accent to slowly be fading. There were some words that she said with a stronger accent then others.
Pallet turned slightly in her spot, facing her new acquaintance, and combed back the bunch of hair that had fallen in her face. "Styx... Greek mythology right? The river in the underworld that souls were ferried over...? Quite an interesting name to have. How'd you come by that?" Pallet could remember reading about Greek mythology in her studies back in Ireland when she was younger. It was one of the more fascinating subjects her father made her learn.
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Post by Styx Kennedy on Feb 3, 2011 19:48:07 GMT -5
Styx sat down beside her and leaned back on his elbows, stretching his legs out in front of him. He watched Pallet as she talked, noting all the little things she did; the open way she smiled, the way she tucked her long, wavy hair behind her ear, and even the way she picked at the paint flecks on her hands. It was all very adorable in his eyes. Styx smiled at her as she finished explaining her nickname, rather impressed that she was a painter. He liked artists, in general. He couldn’t remember meeting a painter before now, but his father had been a very talented musician and Christopher had picked up a healthy love for it all.
“Well, Ashleigh O’Shea,” he began, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees, “I’m very impressed. I could play you a sonata written by a dead man, but I’ve never been able ta crete anythin’ of my own. Let alone paint things.” He chuckled and winked at her, “I’m sure it wouldn’t be very pretty if I tried.”
"Styx... Greek mythology right? The river in the underworld that souls were ferried over...? Quite an interesting name to have. How'd you come by that?"
He nodded as she caught on to the origins of his nickname, to signify that she was on the right track, then laughed and ruffled his hair rather sheepishly when she asked how he got it. “Okay, I’ll give you the honest truth…” Styx paused and let the silence build up, looking at her as seriously as possible, “I’ve nearly died at least six times.” He threw up his hands in defense at any argument she was thinking and, unable to look serious any longer, grinned at her. “Sure as I’m standin’ here, love, honest! My twin thought up the name for me. Says I’ve been closer to the river than most, so that’s my name. Well, not my birth one a course, but s’what everyone calls me.”
Her lilting Irish accent did not go unnoticed by him and another wide grin snuck onto his face as he recognized it. Sitting up straighter, he whooped in excitement, “Why didn’t ya tell me you were from the old country? Pretty, talented, sweet, and Irish? Oh, it’s just too much!”
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Post by Pallet O'Shea on Feb 4, 2011 23:44:56 GMT -5
“I’m very impressed. I could play you a sonata written by a dead man, but I’ve never been able ta crete anythin’ of my own. Let alone paint things.”
Pallet was caught off guard by the wink Styx gave her, causing her cheeks to become heated and red. It had been a while since she felt she had warranted any of the kind of attention like this boy was giving her. It felt kind of nice. She looked up after her blush faded. "Well, I can't play any instruments so you beat me there... And I bet you can play beautifully." Realizing she was still picking at the paint on her hands, she stopped and rested her hands in her lap.
“I’ve nearly died at least six times.”
"Wow, six times?!" Pallet shook her head in disbelief and stared at Styx in amazement. "Sounds like you've been blessed with a bit of Irish Luck... Much like my little brother. Everyone calls him Shamrock because of his incredible luck. Much like you, he's had his far share of near death experiences..." She chuckled to herself thinking about how many times her younger brother has scared her half to death with his foolish stunts and carelessness. Quickly remembering she wasn't alone, she turned her attention back to the boy next to her.
Styx' excitement at learning of her heritage caused Pallet to giggle. "Yeah, My brother and I come from Galway." Pallet averted her eyes, her hair falling free from behind her ear and hiding her face. She knew Galway was one of the well-known counties in Ireland causing the O'Shea's to be as well, but she was hoping the boy wouldn't connect the dots between her name and stories from back home--or maybe hadn't been around to hear the stories of the tragic end of her family. She began picking at a loose string on her skirt.
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Post by Styx Kennedy on Feb 7, 2011 18:06:53 GMT -5
He noticed the faint blush that colored her cheeks, though she tried valiantly to hide it, and the sight made his chest swell. He loved when girls did that, it was just too cute. Nodding his head to her briefly in acknowledgement of the complement, he smiled and chuckled lightly, “Thank ya. I’m told I do…” Truth was, he did play beautifully when he practiced, but he didn’t have the patience or the time to run to Mason’s as often as he should. Styx was sure his father would be ashamed of the way his playing had slipped since arriving in this country, but, all things considered, he didn’t much care anymore. "Wow, six times?! Sounds like you've been blessed with a bit of Irish Luck... much like my little brother. Everyone calls him Shamrock because of his incredible luck. Much like you, he's had his far share of near death experiences..." “I’d love ta meet the little gasur,” he laughed, “bet I could think of a few pointers for him. And, as my da used to say, ‘If you're lucky enough to be Irish, then you're lucky enough.’” Styx really was a lucky little bastard to still be alive after all his brushes with the River, but he never worried about his luck running out. He figured he’s just live his life in the way he liked to and the Fates would snip his cord when they were ready. It was better than living the rest of his life out in boredom, he reasoned. Her giggle made his already wide grin grow larger and he watched her face intently as she answered. “Galway?! Well I am in me wick! So am I!” Oh this was just too weird. He knew the luck of the Irish was powerful, but this was just getting ridiculous. He could remember a few O’Sheas back home, but none of them very clearly. His family had left Galway for Amsterdam when he was ten, so he hadn’t lived there during the O’Shea’s tragedy; he hadn’t even heard about it. He noticed her nervousness at mentions of the past, so he decided not to ask anything about her family and keep things strictly about the country they both loved; after all, he too had things in his past he’d rather not talk about. “I grew up in Galway city, near Eyre Squre, how bout ya self?” * ((Gasur (n): young boy. I am in me wick (phr): you must be joking!)) |
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Post by Pallet O'Shea on Feb 8, 2011 9:50:23 GMT -5
Pallet stood up and stretched her arms over her head. She had been sitting a while so it was much needed. Feeling more comfortable now, she sat back down a little closer to Styx--a few inches remained between them. She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and laid her head on top of them facing Styx, her hair falling down behind her head covering the farther side of her legs and a few strands falling down in her face. She smiled at him, and tucked the hair behind her ear. "Maybe sometime I could hear you play?" she asked in a whisper, biting her bottom lip.
“I’d love ta meet the little gasur,”
Pallet chuckled and lifted her head up off her knees. "If I can get ahold of him, he'd love that... Lately he's been kinda avoiding me. He keeps saying that I'm 'stifling him and he's not a baby anymore'. And... I guess he's right since he's fourteen but he's all I got left, and I've been taking care of him since he was a baby... So, it's been hard know I don't need to look out for him as much anymore."
“I grew up in Galway city, near Eyre Squre, how bout ya self?”
Pallet dropped her legs back down to the ground turning so she was facing Styx, and tucked her feet underneath her tucking her skirt around her legs. "This is too weird. I lived just outside the village of Bullaun. We had a vast horse ranch and a couple tenants just on the edge of our property." The smile on her face grew thinking about all the good times she had roaming the property and sitting in the fields painting.
Pallet brought herself out of her thoughts and brought her focus back to the boy in front of her. She must have had a bit of the same luck as her brother after all. How else would she have met Styx--a handsome man, whom she could talk about her home with AND whom she felt easily very comfortable with? Her eyes wandered up and down his body one more time, trying to commit everything about him to memory in case she never saw him again; which she hoped was never the case because she already felt there could possibly be something there between them, even if it was just a casual thing. From the moment she met him, she felt an instant connection, and the more she sat with him and talked to him, the stronger she felt it. Maybe this was the guy who could break her of her fears--help make her a stronger person.
Pallet smiled at him as her eyes landed on a leather band around his wrist. She scooched closer so she was sitting right beside him on his left side and reached for his right hand. She took his hand and gently pulled it closer towards her so she could examine the band. "Did someone make this for you?" She kept hold of his right hand in her left unconsciously running her thumb back and forth over the back soothingly, and with her other hand began to run a finger overtop of the leather band, feeling the smoothness of the leather and admiring the craftmanship. "It's really beautiful." Another blush tinted her face when she realized how forward she had been to take his hand in the first place, and even more so when she didn't release it right away. She wasn't really one to flirt, but when Styx didn't pull away right away it made her feel a little more comfortable so she didn't release his hand--actually enjoying the feeling even though she had grabbed it innocently to just look closer at his wristband at first...
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Post by Styx Kennedy on Mar 7, 2011 18:48:55 GMT -5
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This thread has been discontinued due to uncooperative muses...
Feel free to New Day
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Post by Sweetheart Snow on May 9, 2011 16:25:43 GMT -5
*New day* (For anyone but Bronx Newsgirls *Sorry Girls*)
Sweetheart Snow sat down on the riverbank near the water's edge. She had a really tough day. Sure, she sold quite a few papers today but a lot of teenage boys wouldn't stop flirting with her. Jewel had to chase off this one boy who didn't understand the concept of 'No'.
She wondered whether or not she would ever find a guy who truly cared for her. She didn't think she ever would, even though Jewel kept telling her that Sweetheart would find a guy someday. Sweetheart sighed and started to skip rocks across the water's surface. Or at least, attempt to. Every time she threw a rock, it just sunk.
Sweetheart growled to herself and laid down on her back. She was loving it here in New York, but she was so used to being alone and being avoided that it seemed impossible to ever get comfortable with the fact that she now had friends and people who cared. Maybe she needed someone who truly understood what she had gone through. Someone who knew what it was like to be beaten by someone who was supposed to love and protect them. Someone who knew what it's like to be avoided over something that they couldn't control. Someone who never really understood what love and affection are or means.
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Post by Fighter Mallory on May 9, 2011 17:39:18 GMT -5
Fighter wandered along the riverbank enjoying her day off and taking her time getting to Manhattan to visit Davey. It was such a nice day out that she figured taking the long way wouldn't really bother her. Plus it had been awhile since she'd been around this way and she missed the peacefulness of it. This past week had not been a slow one and she was positively giddy that she finally had a day off. It seemed that since the weather was getting nicer people wanted to drink more and she'd had to restrain herself from punching out more then one of the customers. Most knew better then to mess with her but there were still a few who thought they could feel her up and get away with it. She grinned to herself as she remembered the most recent one who'd thought just that. He'd ended up with two broken fingers after he'd left the pub and she thought that was him getting off lightly.
Her eyes were drawn to the sight of a younger girl trying to skip rocks near the edge of the river. Usually Fighter would walk by and ignore the person but she was in a charitable mood so she headed in that direction. After she pulled out a cigarette and lit it she paused about five feet away. "Having trouble getting them to skip, kid?" A small smirk played at the edge of her lips. The girl looked young and Fighter tended to be friendlier with the younger kids, unlike most of her fellow Brooklyn-ites.
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Post by Sweetheart Snow on May 9, 2011 17:57:47 GMT -5
Sweetheart sat up at a girl's voice nearby. It definitely wasn't Jewel. She looked around and she saw a girl with dark hair and a lit cigarette in her mouth. The girl was probably about seventeen and she looked like she doesn't put up with nonsense.
"Yeah. I've never skipped rocks before but it looks so easy." she murmured embarrassed. She always became embarrassed when she can't do something that other kids can do so easily that it's like second nature. "Wow, that sounded really stupid." she muttered to herself but she hoped that the unknown girl hadn't heard.
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Post by Fighter Mallory on May 9, 2011 18:35:27 GMT -5
Fighter moved closer, picking up a rock as she went. She held her cigarette between her lips as she moved her hand to the side and flicked the rock out over the water skipping it three times. She pulled the cigarette from her mouth and quirked her lips in the girls direction, "Some things take time and practice." She shrugged absently and took another drag of her cigarette before tucking her free hand in her pocket. "Not everyone can skip rocks right away, like not everyone can whistle without practicing it a bit."
She studied the small girl for a few moments before speaking again, "So what's your name, kid? Unless you just want me to keep calling you kid." She gave the girl an easy smile that didn't usually grace her lips when she wasn't in Davey's or Gwennie's presence.
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Also, having a bit of writer's block starting out so sorry it's not longer. As we get going it should be better.))
