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Post by Jordan Brody on Apr 30, 2008 2:29:07 GMT -5
((Open to anyone from any turf. =D ))
CRUNCH
Jordan let out a howl, that ended up more as a groan as his foot went through the floor. He had simply jumped down from his bunk, landed on the ball of his foot, and then felt immense pain. He was barefoot, and as such felt much more pain then he would have wanted. He ventured a glance down and saw, to his horror, that his ankle was fully submerged into the splintered wood, and that it was turning a nasty shade of purple mixed with blood. He cursed under his breath and yelled, "Oy! Somebody help me!"
He wasn't one to call for help unless it was a pointless and hopeless situation, but in this current situation, he really felt like he needed help. His foot felt broken, or something, and it was all covered in blood from the splintering of the wood. The wood splinters were all facing down, so if he pulled his foot up and out of the hole, the splinters would go straight into his already throbbing foot.
What a predicament he had gotten himself into this time. Only, unlike most of his predicaments, this one wasn't his fault. He groaned as the pain webbed its way around his ankle, like little sharks nipping at his feet and tearing huge chunks off. He had to get to the morning edition - there was no way in hell that he was going to sell the evening edition with all the scabs. Now he simply needed to find someway out of this little problem, or find someone who could help him out of his little problem.
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Post by spotconlon on Apr 30, 2008 14:28:05 GMT -5
He had been told that Queens had just gotten a new leader. Fair enough, he thought, the kids in Queens could do what they wanted. Honestly, he didn't care who their leader was, so long as they didn't cause trouble. But Spot considered it in his best interest to come and meet the new leader so everything started out alright. He didn't need some punk from Queens messing with his Brooklyn kids. His kids could take them any day, but they didn't need that. So he left one of his boys in charge and took the day in Queens, making his way over to the lodging house.
This new guy could consider himself lucky. Spot Conlon didn't make house calls. But he had things to do, and he couldn't waste time sending someone as a messenger to let the new guy know to haul his rear over to Brooklyn. Things could get messy that way, and Spot liked things to be as clean as possible...usually. There were exceptions, but he figured that right now, if he wanted to meet the new guy, he would have to take care of things himself.
He didn't bother to knock while entering the Queens lodging house. Everyone knew that if you knocked, you probably wouldn't be welcome there on a normal day. Spot liked to think of himself as welcome anywhere and everywhere. He swung the door open in time to hear someone calling, "Oy! Somebody help me!" from upstairs. Curious more than anything, he walked up the stairs and turned into the bunk room.
Standing near one of the bunks with one foot stuck in the floor was some fella Spot hadn't seen before. Coolly, Spot hid a chuckle. The guy looked so ridiculous, it was almost hilarious. Less hilarious, perhaps, was the color the fella's ankle had turned. But it was funny all the same. Now that he was up here, he might as well ask questions. "The hell happened t'you?" he asked, first and foremost. He almost waited for an answer, but realized he didn't need to hear the kid's sob story. "Ah, forget it. Listen, I'm looking for the new leader. You know where I can find him?" Spot would have offered to help the kid out, but...well, no, actually, he wouldn't have. He just needed answers, and he'd be on his way after he got them.
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Post by Jordan Brody on Apr 30, 2008 14:52:52 GMT -5
"The hell happened t'you?"
Jordan raised an eyebrow in the direction of the voice as if to say, is it not obvious? He was about to retort when he saw who it was - The infamous Spot Conlon. King of Brooklyn. Scrawny, yet feared.
"Ah, forget it. Listen, I'm looking for the new leader. You know where I can find him?"
"How do you know it aint a girl?" he asked slowly, looking skeptical. Then Jordan smiled coyly and added, "Get me outta here and I'll introduce ya to him." It was always fun to get a rouse out of people, he thought, but then, that was normally what got him into so much trouble. Jordan was like a trouble magnet. Where there was trouble, there was Jordan. Where there was Jordan, trouble would follow.
"Dont think that you can find him without my help - You really wont be able to." Jordan added hastily, knowing that it would have been in Spots best interest to just leave him there and go searching for "The Leader" who was actually standing with his foot stuck in a floor, elsewhere. So, Jordan made sure that he would keep him planted there with him - and he would introduce himself as the leader...Eventually...
"Of course it might take someone with brains to get me outta here...You know Davey Jacobs? Think you could get him for me?" Jordan added, mumbling slightly - giving it the effect that he was insulting Spot in a subtle way - but in enough of a way that he would want to prove himself and get him out.
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Post by spotconlon on Apr 30, 2008 16:00:04 GMT -5
"How do you know it aint a girl?"
Spot glared at the kid and quipped, "A'right. You know where I can find it?" he said. He wasn't in the mood to be played around with. If he'd taken the easy way out, the Queens leader would be coming to him, as it should be. But this, Spot thought bitterly, was what happened when he decided to be nice and spare the new guy the trouble: he was being smart-mouthed by some kid with his foot caught in the floor. Obviously this kid didn't know what was good for him, and he better wise up before Spot decided to leave him there. "I don't care if it's a boy or not, kid, I just wanna find 'em. Don't screw around, ya hear?" He gave the kid a death glare in a (most likely successful) attempt to stare him down.
"Get me outta here and I'll introduce ya to him."
His face expressionless and threatening, Spot ambled toward the kid, coming nearer to the hole in the floor. He looked the kid in the eye and said in a low voice, "Personally...if I was the one with one foot caught in the floor...I wouldn't be makin' conditions. Cause I can just walk outta here, and apparently you can't. So you better wise up. Lemme know what I gotta know, and I'll consider findin' a way for you to get outta there." It was apparent the kid was even dumber than he looked...and considering he had one foot below the floorboards, that was saying something. Everyone knew that when Spot Conlon made a deal, there had to be something in it for him. And there was no chance the other person was getting what they wanted until Spot got what he wanted.
"Dont think that you can find him without my help - You really wont be able to."
Spot scowled. This kid was digging himself deeper and deeper. "Say I won't," he declared stubbornly. "An' from where I'm standin', looks to me like you're the one who's gonna be needin' help. All I gotta do's walk out on the street and ask somebody else where I can find who I'm lookin' for. Last time I checked, I'm the only one in here. And I'm the only one who can help you. So I get what I want, and then you get what you want." Spot prided himself in haggling. He could make deals like no one else without much sacrificing on his part. So far, again, the price on his side had been small. All he would have to do was maybe help the kid out of the floor, which shouldn't be too hard. But first, the kid had to wise up, and tell him what he needed to know.
"Of course it might take someone with brains to get me outta here...You know Davey Jacobs? Think you could get him for me?"
His eyes darkened threateningly. "Dave Jacobs is only good if ya want yer ear talked off while yer in there..." he scowled, recalling the awkward boy he'd met not too long ago who'd accompanied Jack and Boots to Brooklyn (Spot had said after the three Manhattaners had left that some kids didn't belong within fifty yards of Brooklyn). "But I got somethin' to trade here. My services...for yours. Fess up, kid, or else you'll be stuck here till tonight..."
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Post by Jordan Brody on May 1, 2008 3:53:20 GMT -5
Jordan hardly payed attention to Spot's threats and haggling, but was instead more interested in who was coming up the stairs. It was one of the younger newsies, Snap. ((I totally just made that up haha)) Jordan suddenly felt a surge of panic, knowing that Snap would more than likely come up the stairs, see Spot, and then say something that he thought was smart and made him look good about being "The Leaders" best friend, or something of the sort.
Instead of answering Spot, Jordan tried to position himself so that Snap couldn't see him, but it was no use.
"Heya Jordan!" Snap called across the room as he came trotting over. His eyes got wide as he looked at Spot, but then his expression turned to one of smugness. He was standing with the Leader, and the leader obviously knew Mr. Spot who was famous and feared. Getting a surge of courage, and knowing that if and when he said something bad Jordan would protect him, he stood tall and said, "So you've finally come to meet our leader, huh?"
Jordan slammed his hand over Snap's mouth, but not fast enough to muffle the "Jordan's been meaning to see you--" that came from the young boys mouth. Snap struggled under Jordan's grip, but then relaxed at a look from Jordan that clearly meant "We'll talk later you little bastard."
Jordan then glanced up at Spot. "Well, you caught me. Name's Jordan Brody." he said grimly, mustering a smile. "The King of Queens." he added, smirking at his word play that he had created. Hopefully, Spot would not be mad at him and they could be on good terms. Having Brooklyn against you wasn't the best of things.
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Post by spotconlon on May 1, 2008 14:56:13 GMT -5
"Heya Jordan!"
Spot turned to see a little kid coming up to where he and the kid, obviously called Jordan, stood. He watched as the kid, bright eyed and looking like Jordan was the most amazing person ever to walk this earth. He liked how the little kid looked at him, however. As if he needed any reassurance that his reputation seemed spread far and wide all over New York. Spot scoffed and turned to Jordan. "Got some company, Jordan?" he said, finding quite a bit of amusement in all this.
"So you've finally come to meet our leader, huh?"
"Leader?" Spot echoed. He was at the point of asking the kid where the leader was, but realized the kid wouldn't know he was looking for the leader...unless... Spot's gaze snapped to Jordan. "Ya mean you..." he started, his surprised glance turning into a glare. This was practically mutiny, really. No one, but no one, tried to pull the wool over Spot Conlon's eyes. And this Jordan kid had apparently tried to do just that. "Leader, huh?" Spot said quietly, in a threatening tone.
"Jordan's been meaning to see you--"
That was about all the kid could get out, considering Jordan clapped a hand over his mouth and glared at him to shut up. Spot raised an eyebrow, remaining silent for the time being, sizing up Jordan as he did so. He had to wonder why this kid was going to such great lengths to cover up the fact that he was the leader. If it was him, which at one point it was, he would be bragging at least a little. Or, if not that, at least be proud of it.
And then Spot remembered the foot in the floor.
"Well, you caught me. Name's Jordan Brody. The King of Queens."
Well, this was something interesting. Jordan Brody, the (self-proclaimed) King of Queens...was standing with one foot stuck under the floorboards in the bunk room. Spot hid his laughter well, a twisted smirk the only indication. "Jordan Brody...the King of Queens...trapped by a hardwood floor..." Spot shook his head, his eyes dancing in amusement. "It's great to meet the new leader of Queens..."
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Post by Jordan Brody on May 2, 2008 3:21:03 GMT -5
At first, Spot looked as though he was ready to murder Jordan for the playful deception. But then his look of murderous revenge turned into one of mocking amusement.
"Jordan Brody...the King of Queens...trapped by a hardwood floor..." "It's great to meet the new leader of Queens..."
Jordan made a face and then grinned sheepishly. He was anything but serious, even in serious situations, and had a very good sense of humor - something that Spot was showing signs of lacking. "Nice to meet the King of Brooklyn." he said genuinely.
"Well, since the floor is obviously beating me, mind giving me a hand?" he asked with a grim expression.
Snap had been watching the whole exchange, and had just now realized that Jordan's foot, was in fact, trapped by the bunk room floor. His eyes grew wide again and he looked up to Jordan's face, which was quite a feat, as Jordan was 2 times his height. "Jordan! You're hurt! Should I get someone to help?" he cried anxiously, very ready to be thought highly of for going and fetching help for his leader.
"That all depends on whether or not this bone head is gonna help me or not." Jordan joked, grinning slyly at Spot. He knew that it was bold to be calling Spot Conlon a "Bone head", but he wasn't afraid of him. Some newsies may be scared of him, but Jordan sure wasn't. He was just as physically fit and as good a fighter as him, he just wasn't as intimidating. He was taller and slightly more buff than Spot, which would make one think that he would be more intimidating - but he wasn't. Jordan was what you would call a "Gentle Giant".
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Post by spotconlon on May 2, 2008 19:38:40 GMT -5
"Nice to meet the King of Brooklyn."
Spot nodded reverently. He didn't acknowledge cheek for the most part. What he always acknowledged was respect. If you wanted to be shown respect, you had to let people know you expected it, and that you knew when it was being given. Spot glanced again at Jordan's foot. "I ain't talkin' to nobody with a foot in the floor, Queens," he said, referring to Jordan by the name of his borough, a habit of his regarding the other leaders. "I be expectin' a little more dignity than that..."
"Well, since the floor is obviously beating me, mind giving me a hand?"
Spot shrugged. "Whaddya want me to do? I ain't no handyman, Queens. Why don'cha go find a boy of yours who could help ya?" He glanced at the little newsboy that stood beside Jordan, like a loyal pawn on a chess board, standing between two kings. "Looks like you got your boys waitin' on ya hand...and foot." Spot smirked a little at his own wit. He also knew that such a new leader probably wouldn't have all his newsies in a row yet. The young ones were easy to convince. It was the older ones, especially the ones older than the leader himself, that were hard to gain respect from. That was something Spot didn't need to worry about, of course. But it was something Jordan might have to...most likely...be worried about.
"Jordan! You're hurt! Should I get someone to help?"
"Ain't you sharp..." Spot mumbled through grit teeth. The kid had taken long enough to figure out his leader had one foot below the floorboards...
"That all depends on whether or not this bone head is gonna help me or not."
Spot's eyes clouded over, darkening like an impending storm. He turned a fierce gaze to Jordan. "Watch yourself, Queens. Unless you want your head in the floor too..." He took his walking stick out of his belt as a subtle threat. Spot wasn't afraid of anyone or anything, and he would take a swing at you soon as look at you. Nobody tried to be a wise guy toward Spot; he made sure of that. He didn't care if someone was intimidated. They could pretend not to be all they wanted. But for the most part, Spot knew his glare could stop people in their tracks, and that he could fight better than any other newsie in New York.
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