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Post by Fabel on Mar 30, 2008 10:31:43 GMT -5
"You gotta be outta your mind!" he exclaimed. "You won't last five minutes. You ain't gettin' nowhere without help, kid. But if ya don't want mine...a'right. No skin off my nose."
Fabel stopped dead in her tracks. She was fuming by now, and that last statement by him just...Irked her. She took a deep breath to calm herself. What he said was partly true, but Fabel didn't want to admit that. Sure it would take her an awfully long time to get back to Harlem on a bad knee, and walking alone in Brooklyn (especially for a female) wasn't the most intelligent Idea either.
She glanced down at her feet, noticing the grimy ground. It was muddy from the nights hard rain, and Fabel smirked to herself. It would be cruel, but she really wanted to do it. She stooped down and grabbed a big wad of the cold, slightly watery substance. Turning as fast as her bad knee would allow, she hurled it with impressive force at Race Track - not regretting her actions one bit.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Mar 31, 2008 18:05:30 GMT -5
The mud hit Race on the arm with a wet smack, and his chest and face were splattered with the stuff. He cried out in disgust and hurriedly wiped off the worst of it with one hand. His eyes were wide and angry as he turned on Fabel. "The hell's the matter with you?" he exclaimed. "What in the hell posessed you to...ugh!" He was all but covered in the stuff. Thanks a lot, he thought heatedly. "After all the trouble I put myself through...yeah, I see where it got me! Glad you appreciate it, ya little brainlessbroad!"
He was getting steamed, and he knew it. He knew he probably shouldn't have called her a brainless broad, and he half felt bad about it, but his level of sympathy and apologeticness was low at the moment. He knew he should definetly walk away before he threw something back at her, and it wasn't going to be mud. "Good luck gettin' anywhere around here, girly. You'se gonna need it..." He turned away again and started down the road, intent on not looking back.
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Post by Fabel on Apr 1, 2008 2:44:53 GMT -5
"The hell's the matter with you?" "What in the hell posessed you to...ugh!" "After all the trouble I put myself through...yeah, I see where it got me! Glad you appreciate it, ya little brainless broad!"
"Good luck gettin' anywhere around here, girly. You'se gonna need it..."
Fabel was not about to let him have all the satisfaction of yelling. She crossed her arms, leaning her whole body against the building so she could support herself. Right now, she could think of at least ten things that she could say that would either make him want to stay with her, or that would get rid of him in an instant. What did she want though? She did want him to leave her alone...Didn't she? Who was she kidding? He was right. She wouldn't get very far, and more than likely wouldn't make it without some kind of trouble.
"Well..." she started slowly, but as he began walking away she sped up, "This little brainless Broad has realized that she does, in fact need you, and is sorry for throwing mud at you." she called after him quickly. What did she have to lose? If all else failed, she could throw some more mud at him and hobble away...
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 1, 2008 18:55:52 GMT -5
"This little brainless Broad has realized that she does, in fact need you, and is sorry for throwing mud at you."
He had slowed his pace when she had first spoken, but now he rounded on her completely. "Whadja say?" he said, as if he hadn't heard her. Boy, she hadn't seemed like too much of a screwball before. Now all of a sudden she was all hot and cold. He raised an eyebrow at her, and said cautiously, "Well then why'd ya do it in the first place, eh?"
He wondered what was going on inside her head. And more importantly, he wondered what was going on in his head. He had the feeling, although he was about to do it, he wouldn't have been able to completely walk away from her. He brushed the thought away firmly. There were other things to worry about. He could think about that later.
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Post by Fabel on Apr 2, 2008 2:08:31 GMT -5
"Whadja say?" "Well then why'd ya do it in the first place, eh?"
Fabel looked down for a brief moment, but then returned her eyes back up to him. "Haven't you ever done something out of anger?" she asked, avoiding his question. She had found over the years that if you are asked a question to which you and everyone else already knows the answer, or at least thinks they know the answer, or even if they really don't, the best way to answer is to simply ask another question.
"Think about it," she began, putting her hands on her hips as she balanced, "If you were an independent person, barely able to walk, in pain, and having to rely on someone who decides to abandon you, you'd be kinda pissed!" she concluded, grabbing the wall once more to keep her now botched balance.
She shifted her weight and looked up at the sky, where the sun had appeared and was now warming things. "I said I was sorry..." she said still looking up, and away from him. There was no way in hell she was sorry for what she did, but maybe an apology would make things better, even if he decided to leave her.
"I swear, Chivalrous men are dying breeds, nowadays." she said shaking her head and grinning slightly.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 5, 2008 21:46:54 GMT -5
"Haven't you ever done something out of anger?"
Racetrack couldn't keep himself from scoffing a little. Was that even a question? He'd gotten steamed plenty of times, often ending up in a black eye and a split lip for him (but you should see the other guy). "Of course I have, kid. Only most of the time I ain't sorry for it...bein' sorry's for people who don't know what they'se doin'..." Whoops. Backtrack again. Race was never sorry for anything, but he seemed to backtrack a lot. Sometimes things just came out wrong. "I mean for me. Y'know...like...when I'm mad, I'm mad. And when you're mad...yeah. See, I don't need ya to be sorry for nothin'. I just need ya t'forget about it, see?"
"If you were an independent person, barely able to walk, in pain, and having to rely on someone who decides to abandon you, you'd be kinda pissed!"
He was about to protest--no, he did not abandon her, and he never meant to--but thought better of it. That wasn't the point of what she was saying. It was a bad habit Race had, drawing the little details out of something a person says instead of the true meaning of what they were trying to express. He thought about it for a minute. "Well yeah. I'd prolly throw mud at me too..."
"I swear, Chivalrous men are dying breeds, nowadays."
"You're damn right they are," Race said, trying and failing to keep himself from smiling. He walked over to her and took her by the hand. "Nobody's leavin' ya here. Now let's get to the hospital before we gotta spend another night in a warehouse, eh?"
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Post by Fabel on Apr 13, 2008 5:27:06 GMT -5
"Of course I have, kid. Only most of the time I ain't sorry for it...bein' sorry's for people who don't know what they'se doin'..."
Fabel scowled at him. "No." she stated hotly, "Being sorry is for people who are willing to admit when they were in the wrong - not for stupid people." she finished looking at him darkly.
"I mean for me. Y'know...like...when I'm mad, I'm mad. And when you're mad...yeah. See, I don't need ya to be sorry for nothin'. I just need ya t'forget about it, see?"
A confused expression crossed over Fabel's face, and she shook her head as if to say 'Are you serious?'. She was beginning to get more confused than ever, and his confusion did not help her one bit. She painstakingly sat back down on the ground, so as to save her strength for when she needed to walk.
"Well yeah. I'd prolly throw mud at me too..."
Fabel couldn't help but grin sheepishly. She grimaced slightly at the sight of his muddied clothes, and then hung her head in shame, yet smiling at the same time. Almost as if she was laughing at herself, she shook her head and said, "Sorry about that - I really don't know what came over me."
"You're damn right they are," "Nobody's leavin' ya here. Now let's get to the hospital before we gotta spend another night in a warehouse, eh?"
Fabel paused for a moment, calculating her chances of going at it alone rather than with him, and soon decided that it would probably be smarter to go with him. As he took her hand, she smiled sweetly, almost triumphantly. She used him to pull herself back up, and let go of his hand. A few seconds later though, she wrapped her arm around his. "Your so strange." she said glancing over at him. "One minute your ready to ditch me on the street, but then when I throw mud at you, you decide to help me again..." she trailed off thoughtfully. "I'm not saying you should change your mind about helping me though." she added quickly, grinning.
((Im baaack!! Yay! =D ))
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 16, 2008 16:16:06 GMT -5
"Being sorry is for people who are willing to admit when they were in the wrong - not for stupid people."
Racetrack knew he was making her mad at this point, but he couldn't help but to disagree. He didn't quite understand what she was talking about. In the wrong...you were never in the wrong, really. Wrong depended on who you asked. Some people might think it was wrong for kids to sleep in the streets and hawk papers for a living, but to them it was just fine. Couldn't that be applied to other things, too? Racetrack might have been a little shallow at times, but the last thing you could call him was stupid.
"Sorry about that - I really don't know what came over me."
"Ya got pissed," he said with a half-smile. "That's what came over ya. And the sooner you admit it the better." He hated when people tried to make up excuses. Things were always better when they were honest, opinions or otherwise. "Ain't no other word for it, Evelyn my friend..."
"I'm not saying you should change your mind about helping me though."
"No, no, I wouldn't anyway. Now that I know mud's prolly gonna be the worst of my troubles, I'm ready for anything." He gave her a playful grin. To himself he muttered, "Now which way to the hospital?"
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Post by Fabel on Apr 17, 2008 13:42:21 GMT -5
"Ya got pissed," "That's what came over ya. And the sooner you admit it the better." "Ain't no other word for it, Evelyn my friend..."
Fabel grinned, knowing full well that she had lost her temper and for good reason. Fabel's entire leg was beginning to go numb, probably from an infection, and her foot was now dragging listlessly over the grimy street. The pain was subsiding thanks to the numbness, but it would be back - and the sooner she got this problem fixed, the sooner she could get back to her daily routine and forget about everything that happened here.
"No, no, I wouldn't anyway. Now that I know mud's prolly gonna be the worst of my troubles, I'm ready for anything."
Fabel scrunched up her nose in mock disgust at his words, but then grinned. Her grin faded though as she thought about it. I wouldn't anyway was what he had said. What did that mean?
"Now which way to the hospital?"
Fabel nodded her head to the left as they came to a street corner that she recognized. She thought the hospital was in that direction. It seemed right. Her mind wandered back to what Race had said.
"Why?" she wondered out loud. Then, catching herself and knowing that she must have sounded ridiculous asking a random question to no one, she continued hastily, "Why are you helping me? I know its not because your just a good 'person' - No one is 'just a good person'."
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 18, 2008 17:09:50 GMT -5
"Why?"
She had spoke suddenly, and Race glanced sideways at her quizzically. What an odd question. "Why?" he echoed. "Well I was just thinkin' to myself which way to the hospital...I didn't know which way to go..." Maybe all the stuff that had happened to her in the past few hours had gotten her out of sorts. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Boy, he knew that was taking a toll on him, all right. He couldn't even think straight, much less walk in a straight line. He kept his bleary eyes trained straight ahead, so as to not knock into any brick walls.
"Why are you helping me? I know its not because your just a good 'person' - No one is 'just a good person'."
Ah, so that was what she meant. Racetrack wondered why she was asking that. They had already established he wanted to help her out and he wasn't about to just leave her there if she needed his help. Was she looking for another answer? More importantly, could Racetrack give her another answer? Was there one to give?
He bit his lower lip and examined himself for a moment. Here he was, one arm around the waist of a small, but pretty girl he had quite literally rammed into at the Sheepshead Bay Races yesterday (was it just yesterday? Good God, it seemed like a week ago). She was limping with a cut up knee that was the result of a busted beer bottle under the bleachers of the track, where they had been hiding to avoid a large mob of fat men and Race had to pose as her husband in order to fend them off, which ended up not working. He only now realized how much he had gone through to help her out.
And why was he sticking with it? If it had been anyone else, Race would have counted himself out a long time ago. He was too tired, dirty and slightly bloody from all this to last much longer under normal circumstances. Hell, if it had been a good friend of his who happened to be in Fabel's situation, maybe he'd stick with it. But he'd met Fabel less than twenty-four hours ago. What was keeping him by her side? What made him want to stay with her even though things seemed to be going from bad to worse?
Could it be...?
"I know I ain't just a good person," he said, the words coming out sounding forced, as if Racetrack had a fist plowing into his stomach. "But what kinda person would I be if I just left you? I'm not just a good person. But I ain't just a bad one either. And that's why I'm helpin' you out here. That and...and no other reason. Ya got that?" The last statement was meant to assure himself, but it sounded forced and very phony. What was the matter with him...?
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Post by Fabel on Apr 19, 2008 14:24:50 GMT -5
"I know I ain't just a good person," "But what kinda person would I be if I just left you? I'm not just a good person. But I ain't just a bad one either. And that's why I'm helpin' you out here. That and...and no other reason. Ya got that?"
Fabel glanced sideways at him, slightly stung by his "I'm only helping you because I'm nice", dismissive and curt statement. She had hoped for a little more sensitivity from him, maybe something like, "I'm helping you because your my friend" or "You'd do the same for me". Fabel didn't know what she had expected him to say - Certainly not what she would have said to him. After all, she was a sensitive young woman, and he was a typical boy. She should just forget any other thoughts that she may have had on the matter, she concluded.
"Fine." she said in a strained, "clearly its not fine" tone of voice. If thats how he wanted to be, she would play along. She would force herself to forget about him (even though she had only known him for 24 hours or so) and would just get on with her life, hoping to never bump into him. Granted, he seemed like just the kind of person Fabel needed hanging around in her life - Someone who could loosen her up, bring out her sense of humor, and most importantly - be there when she needed him. He had done something in the last 24 hours that no one had been able to do in her whole time of being in New York. He had provoked her into sarcasm and anger.
Fabel was never one to get angry and very seldom used sarcasm and meant it. Something about him had brought it out of her though. It was nice, she thought, to feel some of the old her once again. The last person she had used sarcasm on had been her parents - and that had been the last time. Fabel felt compelled to continue onto her "Fine" and further indulge herself deeper into her deception to herself - Or maybe she just wanted to see what he might answer?
"I didn't think it was for any other reason...Your just a decent citizen of New York that I will probably never see again." she stated as calmly as she could muster.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 25, 2008 15:49:14 GMT -5
"Fine."
Ouch. Race could tell by her tone that fine was exactly the opposite of how she was feeling. He might have been a little shallow, but he wasn't an idiot. Normally he would have left it alone. If someone said they were fine, even if they really weren't, that usually meant they didn't want to say anything more on the subject, and more importantly, they wanted you to leave it alone as well. But he had the feeling he had to make this right, and he would have to talk to her to try and get her not upset with him. God, he hated women sometimes...every time they said something and you didn't get the hidden meaning, they got sore with you.
Had there been hidden meaning?
There wasn't much time to mull over what she'd been saying, but he knew she was expecting him to say something, and, well...he probably should. Without bothering to think too much, he just started talking (a nasty habit he'd developed). "Well whaddya want me to say? I mean, I wasn't about to leave y'there. What an ass I'd be if I did that! But I just wanna be nice to ya. I ain't that mean of a guy, ya know?" He really wasn't sure what she wanted to hear. He thought he'd covered everything, and he also knew he was probably at the risk of sounding like a moron, so he shut up after that.
"I didn't think it was for any other reason...Your just a decent citizen of New York that I will probably never see again."
Race looked at her. "Ah, c'mon, I doubt that," he said. "I mean, we'se both newsies and we live in New York...so we'll see each other, definetly..." But he stopped after a moment. Why did she bring that up? Did she actually want to see him again? Well, sure he would like to see her again; she was a bully girl, and...
He thought about the kiss.
He could feel himself turn red, and tried hard to suppress it. Did she feel that way about him? Was that why she wanted to see him again? Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, he thought quickly, but he was leaning more toward that conclusion. Boy...if she did, he wasn't quite sure what he would do. How did he feel about her? He wasn't sure. Girls had always been a mystery to him. He could never see why a fella would want a girlfriend. They were always crying about something and hanging all over you so you couldn't spend time with your friends in peace...
But still...
No.
But...
No.
He wouldn't think about it. He refused. He ignored the kind of odd feeling in his gut and chalked it up to hunger. He started a stream of words that would get his mind off it. "How's the knee comin'? Hurtin' you any? A'right, we're almost there, I think. Harlem...Harlem, we gotta go across the bridge and through Manhattan. Should get there soon. I might see a couple fellas I know..."
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Post by Fabel on Apr 26, 2008 10:30:29 GMT -5
((Ahahahaha - I'm in a weird mood today...I'm gonna make something else happen now because there conversation is making me bored.  )) "Well whaddya want me to say? I mean, I wasn't about to leave y'there. What an ass I'd be if I did that! But I just wanna be nice to ya. I ain't that mean of a guy, ya know?" "So you make threats and leave them empty?" Fabel asked, referring to him threatening to just leave her alone there. "Ah, c'mon, I doubt that," he said. "I mean, we'se both newsies and we live in New York...so we'll see each other, definetly..."Fabel looked at him questioningly. "I got the impression that you didn't want to be bothered by my presence anymore.." she said calmly, yet slightly annoyed. There was a long silence in which Fabel was entirely uncomfortable and slightly jittery. Her mind kept wandering out into a blank abyss, whether it was from her knee or lack of food. Every now and then black spots would pop up in front of her weary eyes and a throb would echo its way through her head until the spots disappeared and she regained focus. "How's the knee comin'? Hurtin' you any? A'right, we're almost there, I think. Harlem...Harlem, we gotta go across the bridge and through Manhattan. Should get there soon. I might see a couple fellas I know..."Fabel knew idle chatter and it normally bugged her, but at the current moment, she couldn't tell up from down or light from dark. Her head began to swim and her legs felt like jello. She blinked her eyes hard to try and remove the black spots from them, but it was no use. All thoughts left her as her knees buckled and her concisenesses abandoned her. She had fainted. ((Oohh..And I think it may be good for a Manhattaner that knows Race to come in at this point...Might make things interesting.  )) |
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 26, 2008 12:06:02 GMT -5
"So you make threats and leave them empty?"
"No, no!" Racetrack exclaimed, suddenly slightly indignant. It was almost insulting for someone to say that. He would never make an empty threat. "I don't make empty threats. A threat is a threat. Sometimes I don't gotta do anythin' cause people wise up. So I don't gotta act on it, see? But you'll find that my threats are never empty." If he threatened to knock a fella's block off, and the fella shut his trap, he wouldn't have to knock his block off, would he?
"I got the impression that you didn't want to be bothered by my presence anymore.."
He thew his hands up in exasperation. "For cryin' out loud! Evelyn, you don't get it! What do I gotta say, eh? I like you! You're a friend, a'right? You're in'nerestin' to boot and I don't know what the hell gave you the impression that I don't want you around, but that ain't true none. Nothin' could be more wrong! So will ya quit bein' mad at me and we can both get on with our lives?" He turned to look at her, his eyes blazing, but not with anger. The look in his eyes smoldered a little when he realized he may have very well said too much, more than he was capable of handling having out in the open.
He shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed. Maybe she was mad that he was yelling at her. But he couldn't help it; he yelled at everyone for everything. It didn't matter if he was really mad at them or not; he would yell whenever he was expressing something he felt passionate about. He hoped that wasn't what was bothering her, because he knew it would be a pretty silly thing for him to get into an argument about.
Deep in his thoughts, he didn't notice her sway.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her crumple beside him. He gasped, jumping back for a moment, his eyes going wide. "Shit!" he exclaimed. "Evelyn!" He dropped to his knees beside her and gently turned her over on her back, toward the side of the street. He looked around and saw no one that would care or be of any assistance. Looking back down at Evelyn, he was worried for a half-second that she'd died. But thinking that highly improbable, he rested a hand on her stomach and felt a slight rise and fall. At least she was breathing, he thought numbly.
The only problem was that Race had no idea what do to. He wasn't a doctor, for sure, and he didn't really know anyone who had passed out before. He didn't know how long Evelyn would be out, and he certainly didn't know what to do until then. What worried him was that there might have been something he needed to do that he didn't know about. A slight panic had just begun to sneak up around his mind when he heard the sound of footfalls on the cobblestones behind him.
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Post by Dancer on Apr 26, 2008 12:42:37 GMT -5
Dancer walked down a long street, an umbrella at her side. Her long blond hair surrounding her face in curls. A smile stretched its way across her face, showing her white teeth. She turned down random roads and ally ways, just content to be wherever. She had been on her was to Harlem to meet Note, but decided that it wasn't that important and that she would rather just walk around. She stuck her closed umbrella into the air and opened it. There were many holes in it, so it wasn't of much use. She let it rest on her shoulder for no apparent reason as she continued to walk.
Turning at a corner she froze, Fabel lay on the ground with a young man standing over her. She couldn't see his face, he was turned away from her, but she assumed he was a newsie. She dropped her umbrella and ran to Fabel's side. Looking over the newsies shoulder she noticed he had his hand on her stomach and gasped.
"What the hell are you doing to her?" she asked pulling on his shoulder and making him move over. She didn't look at him, she only looked at Fabel. "Evie?" She asked lifting up her eye lids, her eyes were turned back into her skull. "Oh dear." she said checking her pulse. Dancer had learned some things from the nurse at Irving Hall who tended to the dancers. "What did you do to her?!" she asked turning to look at the boy. Dancer stared eyes wide and Racetrack, her face expressionless. "Racetrack?!" She asked, shocked to see him with her. "What happened?" She asked looking Evie over.
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