Post by Beverly Tucker on Sept 28, 2008 12:25:43 GMT -5
OOC: Our Favorite fan twirler actually developed in my head and I adore him.
Bumlets had a name, he honestly couldn't remember how he had gotten his nick name. Vaguely recalling when he'd first met Skitts and he'd been shouted at, "Ya Bum lets go!"
After awhile he figured the boys weren't interested in the fact his name was Brian and he was from Hell's Kitchen. Shaking his head lightly he stepped out of the bar he'd been in to the afternoon sun. His sister had been getting sick lately and the kids had wanted to see him.
He didn't mind really, actually having a family was a step up from the other guys living in the Lodging House. Though his money went to his sister after he'd paid his Lodging House dues he could only imagine how other people dealt.
He know Pie Eater and Skits always had a way about them but it was Blink that after awhile Bumlets had found a comradeship with. The lodging house had been a good place for Brian and he'd liked it there. Casting a wary look around him he sighed once again, his sisters place of employ was about to fire her. Hence his trip into the bar. He could only hope that he could do right by his sister and her children while his brother in law was serving with the Navy.
It was a death sentence in his mind, Bumlets was a man of words and thought over brute force most of the time but he wouldn't hesitate to put his fist into someones throat if he thought it necessary.
As some girls passed him he took off his hat as was proper but his skin crawled. Something about women had set him off, he was by no way funny in he head preferring men to women-- no that wasn't it. When he saw women he saw them as chicks, chickens-- clucking and gawking with nothing really important to say but to laugh and make fun of your old pants that were a bit to short or the fact your shirt was over two years old.
It wasn't as if he liked his--- fear, of women it was more that he could ignore it for awhile and then he just had nothing left in him. He had to fight back-- luckily he didn't know many women and those that came to the lodging house were few and far between. It settled his mind a bit though he didn't care of the girls that WERE there.
After the ladies had passed he continued on his way, hand shoved into his pocket, wrapping around the few meager coins that he had left to show for his days work. The other was wrapped around his trusty broomstick handle. A weapon, a friend or just a walking stick it was hard to tell how Bumlets felt about the old stick.
And if you ever asked him where he got it he probably would neglect telling you.
Bumlets had a name, he honestly couldn't remember how he had gotten his nick name. Vaguely recalling when he'd first met Skitts and he'd been shouted at, "Ya Bum lets go!"
After awhile he figured the boys weren't interested in the fact his name was Brian and he was from Hell's Kitchen. Shaking his head lightly he stepped out of the bar he'd been in to the afternoon sun. His sister had been getting sick lately and the kids had wanted to see him.
He didn't mind really, actually having a family was a step up from the other guys living in the Lodging House. Though his money went to his sister after he'd paid his Lodging House dues he could only imagine how other people dealt.
He know Pie Eater and Skits always had a way about them but it was Blink that after awhile Bumlets had found a comradeship with. The lodging house had been a good place for Brian and he'd liked it there. Casting a wary look around him he sighed once again, his sisters place of employ was about to fire her. Hence his trip into the bar. He could only hope that he could do right by his sister and her children while his brother in law was serving with the Navy.
It was a death sentence in his mind, Bumlets was a man of words and thought over brute force most of the time but he wouldn't hesitate to put his fist into someones throat if he thought it necessary.
As some girls passed him he took off his hat as was proper but his skin crawled. Something about women had set him off, he was by no way funny in he head preferring men to women-- no that wasn't it. When he saw women he saw them as chicks, chickens-- clucking and gawking with nothing really important to say but to laugh and make fun of your old pants that were a bit to short or the fact your shirt was over two years old.
It wasn't as if he liked his--- fear, of women it was more that he could ignore it for awhile and then he just had nothing left in him. He had to fight back-- luckily he didn't know many women and those that came to the lodging house were few and far between. It settled his mind a bit though he didn't care of the girls that WERE there.
After the ladies had passed he continued on his way, hand shoved into his pocket, wrapping around the few meager coins that he had left to show for his days work. The other was wrapped around his trusty broomstick handle. A weapon, a friend or just a walking stick it was hard to tell how Bumlets felt about the old stick.
And if you ever asked him where he got it he probably would neglect telling you.
