|
|
Post by Christina Mathers on Sept 22, 2009 14:47:00 GMT -5
Christiana made a small "o" with her mouth, pleased if not a bit surprised that the girl wasn't offended by her assumption. The waitress looked to her as if to ask if she wanted anything to which she simply shook her head. Christiana was a bit intrigued by Peaches profession. Most girls looks weren't too fond of the ones who sang or danced at Medda's or Caprice, but Christiana kind of admired it.
|
|
|
|
Post by trip on Dec 7, 2009 7:40:36 GMT -5
- New Day - Trip walked into the restaurant and as she did so, yawned and stretched her arms over her head. Her left hand almost banged against the door frame as she did so, but somehow managed to avoid it. She yawned a second time and shook her head in an attempt to wake herself up. She looked around the restaurant and picked a table by the window. It was empty and seemed decent enough, besides, this way she could watch the street outside from the table. That would be, probably, decent entertainment. She sat down and fished out what money she had left from her coat pocket. "Huh...not much left..." After a few moments a waitress came up and asked for her order. "Um... I'll just have whatever the cheapest thing on the menu is," she said. The waitress stared at her oddly for a moment before eventually nodding and walking away to fill the order. Trip went back to looking at the money in her hand and sighed. "I really need to get more money..." She stuffed the money back into her coat pocket and stared out the window at the world in front of her. "I wonder how they do it, all those people out there..." |
|
|
|
Post by Kid Blink on Dec 9, 2009 1:48:33 GMT -5
"Hard work," Blink said, dropping into the seat across from the girl. "Or thievin'. Your call to which way's smartest." He hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but had been ambling the path between tables and was in just the right place to pick up her mutterings.
He fingered the knot on his sling, shifting it slightly from where it was digging into the soft meat of his collarbone from the weight of his injured arm dragging down on it, then drew his tin of lozenges and bundle of smokes from his pocket. Quickly popping a lozenge, he extracted a cigarette from the bundle and held it out to the girl. "Wanna smoke? Oh, and, uh... mind if I sit here?"
|
|
|
|
Post by trip on Dec 10, 2009 0:54:25 GMT -5
Hearing someone else not only speak, but respond to what she'd said, Trip jumped just a little. She hadn't been intending for anybody to hear that. Not that it was something of particular importance, but still, it hadn't been something she'd expected any sort of response to. She spun to face the person, an odd looking boy with an eye patch, who now sat across from her and stared at him for a moment. "No thanks. I don't smoke. And since you're already sitting there, I don't think I'll bother with asking you to leave. And I'm Trip, by the way."
Without waiting for him to respond, she asked, "So who'd you lose a fight with, anyway? Not to be rude, but you look..." she paused, not sure what to say exactly. "Well you look like you got in a fight and lost."
|
|
|
|
Post by Kid Blink on Dec 10, 2009 2:53:40 GMT -5
Blink paused, his cigarette halfway to his mouth, to stare at the girl suspiciously for a minute. Was that supposed to be a joke? Was she trying to tell him to get lost? But either she was new in town or had the best damn poker face in the world, as she looked completely innocuous.
"Yeah, somethin' like that. Got in a fight all right. Me an' my friends against grown men with guns, fighting for our friends' lives. They was kidnapped, an' we was gettin' 'em back. Sounds like you missed all the action, huh?" Finally popping that cigarette between his lips, he struck his match and lit his smoke, taking a deep drag and exhaling toward the ceiling, away from Trip's face.
He dropped his gaze to the large hand-written card on the table, feigning interest in the daily specials written there as he added darkly, "I got shot. But I didn't lose." He tucked his morphine lozenges and his bundle of smokes back into his pocket, arbitrary actions to distract him from his thoughts as his subconscious wrestled away the memories of what had happened that day at the warehouse.
After a moment, he looked up to her again and extended his hand across the table, smiling. "Nice to meet ya, Trip. The name's Blink."
|
|
|
|
Post by trip on Dec 10, 2009 3:48:29 GMT -5
Trip just stared at Blink, unable to do anything but that, blink, for several seconds. Eventually, she realized he was holding out his hand, intending for her to shake it. She did so and then put her hands flat on the table. "Nice to meet you too, Blink."
She paused and bit her lower lip before speaking again. "That's not just some tale you're spinning? That really happened?" Trip paused, lips still slightly parted. She stared at his arm and suddenly had a hundred questions. How had it felt? Was it permanently damaged? Who did that and had they been dealt with? "If that's true, I can honestly say that I've never seen anything like that. I've seen a lot, but nothing like that. I mean, I thought California was bad, but..." Trip shook her head. "Maybe it's something about being on the edges of the country, makes things more extreme."
She shook her head again. "And maybe I'm talking entirely too much. Do you... want me to not ask questions or do you want to talk about it? Personally, I'm good with either."
|
|
|
|
Post by Kid Blink on Dec 12, 2009 2:11:48 GMT -5
Blink took another deep drag from his smoke, again making the courtesy of exhaling away from the girl who didn't smoke. He was going through his cigs a lot faster these days...
"Yeah, that really happened," he said after a moment, a little more edge to his voice than he'd intended. Another short puff and he continued, softer now, "Not really much to talk about. Some cop was goin' around and kidnappin' girls and little kids and takin' 'em out to a workhouse outside the city. We didn't like that none, so we went an' got 'em back. Lotta people got hurt." Another puff. "Some of 'em died."
He paused for a moment, thinking and trying not to at the same time. Did he want to talk about it? No one was doing much talking about it. Everyone wanted their space, wanted to sort things out for themselves. Not much talking going on at all now that everyone was staying inside their own minds. Were they all really wanting to stay stoic, or were they pretending that silence was the answer because they were too afraid of the thoughts they would cause to bubble up in their friends' minds by talking? Blink just wasn't sure anymore.
He took another short puff, brushing off his insightful mood. "If people seem kinda shut-up and quiet to ya..." He tilted his head in the barest of shrugs. "Try not to take it personal." Snuffling and clearing his throat, irritated from his incessant smoking, he flagged down a waitress and ordered a coffee. Once she'd returned to her business, Blink turned back to Trip, smiling again. "So, California. You come a long way from home, huh?"
|
|
|
|
Post by trip on Dec 12, 2009 15:05:59 GMT -5
Trip stared at him for a moment and shrugged. "That's okay. I don't take much of anything personal." She shrugged again. "And I guess I'm far from home, but it's been a while since I've been there, so I can't say I much notice. I've never been much for missing things, I suppose. Really, the only reason I wound up here is because I've been through the rest of it already." She paused a moment, thinking. "Well, really, that's not entirely true. I haven't been to the south yet. I might go there at some point, if I get bored of this place."
She looked around then, realizing that she'd ordered something a while ago and it still wasn't here yet. "The waitresses in this place always this slow, or am I just special?" she asked, still looking around. "I ordered something a while ago and still haven't gotten it." She couldn't help but scowl a little, she hadn't eaten anything all day and was getting really hungry.
|
|
|
|
Post by Kid Blink on Dec 14, 2009 2:15:14 GMT -5
Blink nodded slowly, tapping his ashes into the provided dish. "I never been outta New York," he said matter-of-factly. "Not that I can remember, anyway. Been in the city all my life. But if I ever was to wanna leave, think I'd be headin' down south. Known some good people from down Louisiana way." He was thinking of one in particular, and chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment. The rumors of what had happened between Brook and Snoddy were beginning to die down now, as Blink assured her they would, but there was still something up with Brook. Like there was something right on the tip of her tongue every time Blink saw her these days, but she just couldn't get it out.
He sighed as Trip voiced her growing impatience. "Now what'd I just get done tellin' you? Kids around here been through hell the past few weeks, some of 'em ain't back on their game yet." But he gave a low, sharp whistle and waved, snagging the attention of a nearby waitress. "Hey, doll face, shake a leg, huh? We wanna get outta here before the afternoon edition comes out!" The waitress rolled her eyes, but bore the slightest smile as she turned and headed toward the kitchen. A moment later she emerged again, bearing a mug of coffee for Blink and a plate he assumed was Trip's order. "Thanks, gorgeous," he said with a grateful sigh as she set the orders on the table. "Face like yours makes for good business--if I don't order and get the hell outta here right quick, I could blow my whole day's wages just to sit around and look at you." He passed her a flirty smile as she left, then turned to his coffee.
"Just takes a little finessin'," he said to Trip, giving a shrug as he ground out his cigarette butt and reached for the sugar bowl.
|
|
|
|
Post by trip on Dec 14, 2009 4:17:15 GMT -5
Trip frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She just sat there for a moment, her mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. "Well, you can see, I'm sure, why that particular tactic wouldn't work for me."
Trip took a bite of her food and was silent for a long moment. She wasn't sure what to say. She wasn't very good with this, with dealing with people. She never knew what to say, or what not to say. Clearly, she'd already said the wrong thing at least once in this conversation already. What else was she supposed to say? She didn't know this boy, didn't know what was acceptable, what wasn't. She was curious, sure, but she didn't exactly know how to turn that curiosity into a decent conversation. She wanted to ask him more about had happened, about that thing he kept mentioning, but even she could tell he didn't really want to talk about it.
She attempted to blow the hair out of her eyes and settled for a fairly basic question. "So, what do you do? For work, I mean."
|
|
|
|
Post by Kid Blink on Dec 19, 2009 20:59:26 GMT -5
"I'm a newsie," Blink answered simply, raising up his right hand and waggling his fingers--which were perpetually stained with newsprint ink, the mark of a career newsie. "I tote the World's papes for good ol' Joe." Stirring the sugar into his black coffee, he paused to take a sip, testing its sweetness, then added another spoonful. "How about you? Can't say I recall seein' you around the Center, and I think I'd remember a face like yours. One of Medda's new girls, maybe? Certainly got the look for it..."
((Augh, such a fail tag... My Blink-muse is giving me such trouble these days. I'm so sorry!))
|
|
|
|
Post by trip on Dec 21, 2009 17:16:35 GMT -5
((That's okay. I've been really busy myself. Christmas holidays with family, it gets busy.))
Trip shook her head. "I don't actually know who Medda is. I really only just got here a few days ago, so I don't have much going yet. So far, I've only really been here and to the park and near there." Trip paused again, thinking. He'd said he was a newsie. That was something she'd never done before. And she was looking for work. "But being a newsie, how do you get into that? Is it decent or..." she looked him over again, noting now the ink stains on his fingers, "well...less than decent?" She took another big bite of her meal, and another. She was starving and hadn't eaten anything before this meal all day. She really did need to find work soon. Forget sending money home to her family, she was running out of money for food. She looked up at Blink and immediately felt even more awkward. He'd only ordered a coffee. It occurred to her that maybe he didn't have any money either. She pushed the bun that had come with her meal to the edge of the plate. "You want this?" she asked.
|
|
|
|
Post by Kid Blink on Dec 27, 2009 3:42:02 GMT -5
Blink eyed the bread she offered before shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good with this. Ain't much for eating lately." In truth, the morphine he took to kill the pain in his arm kept him with a perpetual state of nausea and discomfort deep in his gut. Though he was hungry, he'd learned that eating only made the piercing stomach cramps worse later, and put off his hunger until his stomach felt like it was gnawing on his spine.
"Newsie life ain't so bad, I guess," he said, swishing his coffee around in the mug. "Been one all m'life, and I'm still here. It gets kinda rough sometimes, but you learn how to deal with it pretty quick. If you ain't got a place to stay, most of the orphans an' runaway newsies rent a bed at the lodgin' house. Five cents a night gets you a cot to call your own and washroom with runnin' water. It ain't the Algonquin, but it's a safe place to sleep at night. In the mornings, you get up and go to the distribution center--that's where they distribute the papes to the newsies--and you buy yourself a stack, then spend the next few hours tryin' to sell 'em. Got two editions a day, mornin' and evenin', seven days a week. You can sell when you want. Long as you got the money for Kloppman, no one cares if you sell twice a day every day or once a week or what."
He took a slurp of his coffee before continuing. "Hard part is finding a spot to sell that ain't gonna piss off some other newsie. We all got our territories, and when you start hawkin' in someone else's territory, you're takin' their sales. People don't like that much. When you ain't got two pluck nickles to rub together, losing two or three sales can be the difference b'tween whether you sleep in the park or not that night." He eyed Trip for a moment, then shrugged. "But you're a girl, and a looker at that. The guys'll go easier on you for that. Your best bet would be to find yourself a sellin' partner who'll let you sell in his turf, and you split the profits between ya."
|
|
|
|
Post by trip on Dec 27, 2009 20:06:48 GMT -5
"So...is that an offer to work with you or was that just a suggestion?" Trip finished off the last of her meal and reached for the bun at the edge of the plate. She looked up at him, curious. "I could carry the papers, I mean, that's gotta be kinda tough and all..." She looked at his broken arm for a moment, then thought better of it. "I mean... well..." She didn't know much about this sort of thing, but she figured that if it were her, she wouldn't like it much if someone stared at her like that. She started absent-mindedly tearing the bun in her hands into tiny, little pieces, not sure what to say or do next.
|
|
|
|
Post by Kid Blink on Dec 30, 2009 0:11:33 GMT -5
Strictly speaking, Blink already had a selling partner. But most everyone had a selling partner these days--after Jack had made it a mandatory thing, most of the newsies had paired up, and few of them had bothered busting up their pairs. With so many injured, the sympathy sell was easy (even now, he could see Trip was trying not to look sympathetically at his wounded arm), and the profit splitting wasn't too bad. Those who had parted ways did so for a reason, and weren't likely to take a green kid under their wing, so to speak.
Besides, selling with two cute little dolls? Blink could get used to that...
"Yeah, okay, sure," he said, shrugging casually. "We could give it a shot. Brook an' me sell together, but she's a sweetheart. Long as you ain't crazy and start pickin' fights randomly or switch between threatenin' her life and sobbin' on her shoulder or somethin', she'll probably like ya just fine."
|
|
