|
|
Post by bunky on Apr 27, 2009 16:07:56 GMT -5
"Ill try to read it as fast as possible. Knowing Jack and his books, he would get mad at me for having it before he did." Piper replied in a giggle as she looked over her shoulder and saw a boy falling to the ground by a older newsie, who was now laughing his head off. Piper got mad and looked back at Dutchy.
"Excuse me for a second, will ya?" Piper asked him as she got up and walked over to the boy. She bent down to pick him up when the older newsie grabbed her hair and shoved her out of the way.
"Back off goil, this one's mine." The older newsie said in a grunt as Piper fell to the floor.
((Sorry, couldn't resist!))
|
|
|
|
Post by fibs on Jul 30, 2009 21:57:21 GMT -5
[NEW DAY]
Standing at the corner of Eight Avenue, Fibs was negotiating a trade with a very burly and entirely questionable man. Handing over a few knick-nacks she had come across, the man handed her a pack of cigarettes.
Pocketing them quickly, Fibs' eyes darted suspiciously about the dimly lit street. The transfer had hardly been illegal, but Fibs liked to pretend she was delving into some kind of seedy business deal.
It made it all a bit more thrilling.
Furthermore, Fibs did not smoke cigarettes: they just happened to be great to barter with, particularly with her peers. If someone was really jonesing for one, she could make a little money, too.
Nodding curtly and tipping her cap, Fibs bid her farewell. "See you next week, Tom." Turning on her feel, Fibs shuffled away quickly, leaving a very bewildered Roger O'neil wondering why a vague blonde had just called him "Tom."
Her surrounding were gritty to say the least, but it didn't faze her. Biting at her thumb nail, Fibs peeked into a dusty window--some rundown apartment with cracked glass and nothing inside. Still, Fibs noted it as a place to sleep should ever she need it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bumlets Russo on Oct 6, 2009 1:24:34 GMT -5
((New Day -- Tag for Shiner))
Bumlets had taken Shiner away from the battle without looking back, he'd ignored the gunshot ignored a few things just to get the girl away. He knew that if he stayed, or let her stay she would probably just be in the way or worse. She was skinny as a rail and that put him on edge. He'd jumped a train back in, got to Brooklyn in record time then walked her to Manhattan to Hell's Kitchen where his mother lived. It was still the safest place he knew.
And he'd carried her the whole way, he was raised right at least. People didn't think that of him. That he had a mother, or that he had siblings. He had one, an older sister. No one really cared that he knew more about the world than people actually gave him credit for. Everyone but Mabel and Specs. His... infatuation he supposed and his best friend. He hadn't given Shiner much thought until this excursion.
"My mother's isn't far.." it was safe there, and his mother could see to her while he went and fetched this-- uncle she kept talking about. He just wanted to make sure she was safe. That was it. The others would be home soon.. then he could regroup and find out the rest of what had happened. Or he could head back after he finished up his business. He was sure it wouldn't be over.
|
|
|
|
Post by shiner on Oct 10, 2009 10:17:29 GMT -5
She'd fallen asleep in his arms on the train and only woke now when he spoke. She noticed he never really spoke much, but then again she never really spoke to him. She mostly hung out around Dutchy, who'd become a good friend and who ever he would hang around with. Occasionally Bumlets was there. Brian. It felt strange to think of him that way. And not knowing him as well as she thought she should, or would have liked, it felt as if she shouldn't know his real name. Not just yet. But he had told her, which was surprising. Even more surprising he had carted her all the way here.
She still wasn't sure about what she should do. She knew if she asked him to stay with her, he probably wouldn't and he would be right. It wouldn't have been fair to the others. Maybe they'd be lucky and the fighting would be over by the time he got back. Or maybe the worst of it anyway.
"This is all very sweet of you, Brian."
|
|
|
|
Post by Bumlets Russo on Oct 12, 2009 18:49:15 GMT -5
"Yeah well," he grunted and sighed as he edged up to the small apartment hovel, he rounded back down a long and narrow alley before he reached the back door and started to kick at it. He sighed again as the door opened and a petite woman came to the back. She had dark hair and tanned skin like her son did and she looked very kind but worn. Her eyes widened.
"Mi ho!" she shouted as she picked up the pace and came to the door, opening it to look down at the girl he son was carrying. She looked over her features and ushered them both inside. "Mi ho, what is all this, what is happening.." her dark eyes trailed over the girl as her son moved him into the tiny house and set her down on the very warn sofa.
In a flurry of Spanish he explained to his mother what had happened and her eyes widened with shock, fear and then anger as she folded her arms sternly across her chest. They spoke for a time until Bumlets realized it was rude and he winced, "Sorry Lara, this is my mother Carlotta. She says that you may stay here until I get your uncle or your well... mama, Lara doesn't speak Spanish.. at least I don't think. All I ever hear around her is dutch.."
The woman nodded her head and smiled softly, "Welcome to my home, Lara. Pleasure.." her voice was thick with her accent, obviously an immigrant to the states.
|
|
|
|
Post by shiner on Nov 5, 2009 18:59:22 GMT -5
Lara smiled warmly to the woman who looked rather concerned for all of them. Brian was lucky to have her, was Shiner's immediate reaction. She shrugged as Bumlets commented about language.
"Well, Dutchy was trying to teach me some. I know a few phrases. I know a little bit of Spanish too, but not enough to carry out a good conversation. My dad used to try and use a line or so of a different language every day." She turned her attention to his mother, but looked rather tired, "Muchas gracias, Señora Carlotta." She looked unsure of herself, then to Bumlets, "Was that right?" She realized she didn't know his last name, and felt strange about calling his mother by her first.
|
|
|
|
Post by Christina Mathers on Mar 16, 2010 15:48:46 GMT -5
New Day
Christiana sat on the stairs of a crumpling abandoned apartment building smoking what was left of her last cigar. Inhaling deeply, she held in the smoke savoring the satisfaction of the nicotine. Maybe it was because she hadn't been in Brooklyn for so long, but she was beginning to like Manhattan a lot. It was the perfect place for a new start. It had been working out great for her, anyway. After what seemed like hours, she exhaled letting the thick smoke mix with the cool air. It was times like this when she really felt herself yearning for Spring.
|
|
|
|
Post by Scar Bourke on Mar 17, 2010 16:58:47 GMT -5
Scar turned down Eighth Avenue with a small smirk firmly in place on his face. He'd had a great time with his sister the night before and it was showing in his relaxed demeanor. Scar was on his way to go see his boss, he'd heard through the grapevine that there was a high price job up for grabs and he was the one the boss wanted for it. When his eyes landed on Christiana, his smirk widened just a bit and he pulled out a cigarette. "Got a light?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Christina Mathers on Mar 18, 2010 16:37:23 GMT -5
Christiana turned toward the voice, grinning when she saw it belonged to Scar. Digging into her coat pocket, she pulled out a match, struck it against the concrete, and held the flame out for him. "Long time, no see."
|
|
|
|
Post by Scar Bourke on Mar 18, 2010 17:59:47 GMT -5
Scar leaned down to light his cigarette, taking a deep drag and sending a smirk her way. He eyed her appreciatively, "Too long. How have you been?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Christina Mathers on Mar 19, 2010 3:34:17 GMT -5
"Pretty good," Christiana responded, turning back to the view before her. She was given more hours at the cafe after her boss decided to get rid of the dead weight. 'Why pay for more workers when you do twice as good for half the price', he would say then nudge her playfully and give a guttural laugh. Because he was her boss, she suppressed she urge to punch him in the face. True, she was working for peanuts, but it was better than nothing.
Looking back at Scar, she smiled. She noticed a glow in addition to his natural...whatever it was he had. "I trust you've been as good as you look?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Scar Bourke on Mar 26, 2010 13:58:09 GMT -5
(Sorry I meant to delete that but I totally forgot...you didn't have to delete your post.)
Scar smirked as he took a seat next to her, propping an arm on his leg. "That I have been."
He'd been keeping busy with work and also with catching up with his sister. It had been an unexpected surprise and as angry as he'd been when he'd found out she was back he was equally happy. "And where have you been hiding yourself?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Christina Mathers on Apr 6, 2010 15:46:38 GMT -5
Catherine shrugged nonchalantly, somewhat of a grin forming on her lips. "Oh, you know," she said casually, "I've been around." She didn't want to tell him that she had taken his advice in forgetting about old what's-his-name and had a few workings going on herself. It would all be revealed in time, anyway.
"I was hoping I'd run into you sooner than later."
|
|
|
|
Post by Scar Bourke on Apr 14, 2010 22:49:12 GMT -5
Scar gave her a devilish smile, "Were you now? Well here I am, at your service." He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her as he took a drag from his cigarette.
|
|
|
|
Post by Christina Mathers on Apr 18, 2010 19:44:46 GMT -5
Christiana's grin widened before the words even left his mouth. His smile alone sent a cold shiver down her spine that would have been frightening if he weren't so handsome. "You're quite the charmer." She stretched her legs out and crossed them at the ankle before grounding her cigar into the concrete beside her. "There is a service I require. If you think you can handle it."
She hid the tell in her eyes well and breathed a laugh as she removed her hat and ran a hand through her hair.
|
|
