Boxing Ring

[Administrator]

In the middle of a bustling street is the noisy boxing ring. One of Jack Kelly's favorite places to sell.

[Fighter Mallory]

*NEW DAY*

Fighter crushed the dying cigarette beneath the tip of her boot before pushing her way through the crowd around the ring. It was a gorgeous fall day and she planned to enjoy as much of it as she could before heading into work. Lately, it seemed that all she did was work but she was trying to save some money to get an apartment with Shannon and get out of the lodging house. It wasn't really that she wanted to leave, but more that she was getting a little too old to continue living there. Plus, she'd most likely spend a lot of her free time there with Gwennie when she wasn't with David.

After a few moments of shoving people out of her way she came across a crate that would give her a great view of the show so she pulled herself up and settled in. She didn't know the boxers personally but she was pretty sure one of them was the kid brother of a friend of her uncle's. Once the fight finished she'd make a point of finding out. Fighter leaned forward a bit, watching every move the boxers made with eagle eyes. This was, after all, her forte. She'd lived and breathed boxing growing up but it didn't do her a hell of a lot of good. Not like women would be payed to box. Sure, she could find herself an underground fight or two if she really tried but anything that took that much energy usually wasn't worth it.

[Hawkeye Dekker]

Hawk didn't like Manhattan during selling hours. Too many kids he'd worked with during his six month stint as a newsie in this borough were still around, still sellin' papes, and he hated bumping into them. They would always try to strike up a conversation with him--asking how he was and what he was up to, wanting to reminisce about "the old days”--but never seemed to pick up on how little Hawk wanted to talk. He didn't care about their lives, didn't have time for useless babbling or small talk, and just didn't like to talk in general. When they failed to pick up the hints his one-word answers and stoic expressions were dropping, he would usually end up just walking away; he didn't have the time or patience to worry about sparing their feelings. Now, though, it was just after lunch and a still few hours before the evening edition hit. Perfect.

He was in the borough to collect on a bet, and Hawk knew his bookie could be found at the Manhattan boxing ring this time of day. Mickey O'Neil was a slippery, crafty character, so you always had to watch yourself (and him) whenever he was around. Fortunately, watching was Hawk's forte, so he'd never had any problem with the man. Sometimes he would even do Mickey a favour (was it still a favour if you got something back in return?) and send boxers his way who looked like they could handle an underground fight.

Hawk didn't know Fighter would be there--he made a point not to keep tabs on her for the sake of their friendship--but he was glad when he spotted her among the crowd. It had been too long since they'd really hung out. Moving quickly through the rowdy crowds, he made his way toward the set of wooden bleachers that were next to Fighter's perch and leaned against them. Hawk knew she was bound to notice him eventually, since he was now right next to her, but upon realising how intently she was focused on the two men in the ring, he figured he'd better say something.

Fighter always got so annoyed when men tried to hit on her at boxing matches, so he decided to have some fun. Smirking, he raised his voice just enough for her to hear him over the ruckus, "Hey there gorgeous, you come here often?"

[Fighter Mallory]

As the round was winding down, Fighter pulled out another cigarette and struck a match on the edge of the crate to light it. The kid definitely had to be a Marx, he had his brothers right hook. If he wasn't related then Marx had to have shown him the ropes at some point. Fight would find out soon enough though so she didn't think on it much as the next round began. Her attention was so focused on the fight that she didn't notice Hawk take up a position next to where she was sitting. Hell, she probably wouldn't have noticed anyone was there until the end of the fight if he hadn't spoken. When she heard the words, her fist flashed out without her even glancing in that direction. It wasn't a terribly hard punch and she could feel her hand graze a shoulder but she figured it was enough to warn him off, but just in case it wasn't she turned to glare at the offender.

The moment she realized it was Hawkeye messing with her and not some random guy trying to hit on her, a smirk flitted across her face. "That's what you get for trying to mess with me," Fighter said with a grin. "What're you doing out here?" She knew he didn't particularly enjoy coming to Manhattan since he was likely to run into people who knew him and would bother him endlessly. For some reason a majority of the newsies in Manhattan were chatterboxes. Some of them got on her nerves but she put up with them without making too many cutting remarks for Dave. They were his friends and she'd make nice for that reason alone but if they weren't together she would likely end up picking a fight with the more annoying ones.