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Post by Boxer on Apr 26, 2008 16:55:57 GMT -5
Boxer felt her stomach growl and she sighed a bit, rubbing her stomach. She didnt have her traditional boy look on today, instead she had her hair in two braids, her hat atop of her head. Though she still wore her brothers clothes, really it was all she owned.
Reaching into her pocket she pulled out the last of her change. Counting it quickly she put it back into her pocket and looked around her, she at least had enough to get some food. Tibbys was just across the street seeming to be calling to her.
Glancing back and forth for carriages, she jogged across the street and opened the door to tibbys, the smell of food hit her, making her stomach clench almost painfully. She couldnt remember the last time she ate, she just had been forgetting lately. WEll forgetting until her stomach slapped her into rememberance.
Ordering a plate of fries and a drink, she took a seat as she waited for her food to come. Her drink arrived and she stirred the cubes in side. A slight frown came to her lips and she pulled over a flipped over coffee cup and flipped itupright as she then proceeded to push the cubes out of her drink. She didnt like ice in her drinks, unless it was water and even then she didnt really like it.
Finally her fries arrived and she poured some ketchup on the side of her plate and proceeded to eat.
((ack that was awful! lol))
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 26, 2008 18:06:30 GMT -5
It had been a day that had wracked her nerves, beyond any questionable doubt. He was slightly edgy and more than a little upset about everything that had been going on since Mike had come back to New York. Although Race hadn't seen him today, there was no way of telling what he was doing when he wasn't in Manhattan. Race knew that Jack would have to talk to the other leaders, warn them, and fast. A fella like Mike didn't idle too long.
But it was any other day, and Race decided he better eat if he wanted to function. He had a slight headache, and hoped the food would help him a little. He slipped into Tibby's and quickly ordered roast beef and some water...a bit of a luxury, the roast beef, but he had the extra money on him today. Although he was itching to catch the races today, he had the feeling he wouldn't get there. So he sat down and waited for the waiter and his food.
He caught sight of a girl he'd seen Jack talking to occasionally. He reckoned they called her Fighter or something like that. He'd also heard, through Bumlets or someone (he couldn't remember if his life depended on it), that she was Italian. He was slightly put out at the moment, but the aspect that this girl might speak Italian was interesting to him. She wasn't sitting too far away, and Tibby's was nearly empty, so he tried talking to her in the language he'd learned from his mother. "Come stai, ragazza?" he asked, his pronunciation not quite as good as he'd remembered it being and his accent getting in the way. He hadn't spoken the language in years, and hoped he could remember it.
(("Come stai, ragazza?" = "How are you, kid?"))
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Post by Boxer on Apr 26, 2008 18:29:23 GMT -5
Boxer pulled her hat off and set it on the table, her eyes going to it for a moment before taking another drink. She let her eyes drift over the people who came and went in Tibbys. Watched the waiters deliver food and clean up tables and she even watched a couple kids run out with out paying. She smirked a bit with a shake of her head as she picked up another fry and dipped it into her ketchup to eat.
Boxer had tuned herself into her own little oasis. Her fries and drink was all that mattered right now and the fact that her stomach wasnt punishing her anymore. Instead it was quite happy. Though her oasis came to a hallt when she heard someone talking... in italian. She blinked and glanced around, but the place was near empty. Then her eyes fell on a short guy, who was obviously italian and the fact that he was looking at her as if waiting for an answer only answerd the fact that he was the one whod been talking... and to her.
She blinked a bit, surprised. He looked familiar, shed seen him around manhatten, but she didnt know his name nor had she cared to listen or find out. She didtn know really any of the newsies except for the small few she had met face to face. The thing was, how did he know she was itailan... no more like spoke it. She did look a bit like it, then agian maybe he could only speak it. Oh well stupid questions and obviously her secret wasnt worth hiding if everyone seemed to know. Besides... was it really that improtant. It was just a language. Well it had been important before to keep it hidden, but that was a long time ago.
She wasnt with her family anymore, so now it shouldnt matter. She didnt answer his question and instead gave him one of her own. 'chi sei?" she raised her brow as she sat back, resuming her usual posture when she first meets people. Her arms crossed over her chest waiting for his response.
- Im sure you know this, but i dont know if its translating correctly so she jsut asked who he was-))
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 26, 2008 19:24:11 GMT -5
"Chi sei?"
"Ah," he said, his hunch verified. "Lo parli. Lo ho penso." He was pleased to have someone to talk to in Italian; he'd been getting around without it for the longest time. He never had the need to use it, not anymore, considering none of the fellas knew a word. It was refreshing, almost. His mother had come over from Bologna, and had been taught English by his father before he was born. Race could remember him and his older brother, Tom, sitting down with their mother after dinner, and she would teach them everything: from the nursery school basics to the larger, more complicated words. By the time Race's grandmother died, he spoke it very well.
He realized he was being pretty rude to the girl, and that her asking who he was probably signaled she didn't trust him too well. "Mi dispiace," he said. "Mi chiamo Racetrack Higgins." He hated that it didn't flow, the sudden switch to his English name. He thought of introducing himself as Antonio, his real name being Anthony, but he didn't think it would go over well. If she knew him at all, he thought, she knew him as Racetrack.
"E tu, come ti chiami?" he asked, just to make sure he got her name right. Jack had said she was either Fighter or Fist...something like that. He couldn't remember for anything, and he hoped she would tell him so he could stop guessing.
((No, the translations are always good. This one goes "Ah, you speak it. I thought so." "I'm sorry, my name is Racetrack Higgins." "And you, what's your name?"))
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Post by Boxer on Apr 26, 2008 19:58:29 GMT -5
It was actually nice to be talking like this. It reminded her of home. NOt her home where she lived, but when she was with her family. She had never had a place to call home, a perminant residence anywhere. Her family was constantly moving, constantly taking on new names and lives, but when they were alone her mother and father would always talk to them in their language.
When Racetrack told him her name she frowned a bit as she tried to think of if she had heard his name before or not. When she couldnt recall it she shook her head and then brougth her attention back to him. "racetrack..."
"Io non ti conosco. Ho visto prima. Sei un Manhatten Newsie non siete? Sapete Jack?" she inquired. Either he was a Manhatten newsie or he was just a friend from another burough. She was starting to get the hang of this newsie business, not that she was one full time, but she was sorting everyone out and such.
She realized she hadnt told im her name yet and she uncrossed her arms letting them fall to her lap. "Im dispiace. Il mio nome è Boxer" she introduced herself.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Apr 26, 2008 20:41:10 GMT -5
"Io non ti conosco. Ho visto prima."
"Vero?" he said, his brow furrowing. "Hm. Abito qui...di dove sei? Anch'io, ho visto prima, ma non ti ricordo..." He had only heard of her or seen her in passing. He probably wouldn't have recognized her at all, if it weren't for the boy's clothing Jack had desrcibed her wearing. He had the feeling he would have remembered a girl who spoke Italian if he had encountered her before.
"Sei un Manhatten Newsie non siete? Sapete Jack?"
"Si, si, sono di Manhattan. Certo, conosco Jack, è mio amico miglior! Tutti conoscono Jack!" He smiled at her. "Quando lo incontri?" Somehow, Jack knew everyone in the city, and he was always curious as to how his friend ran into all these different people. It always seemed like it didn't matter where they went, Jack knew someone that either helped them out or got them into trouble, and Race was often in awe of how many people Jack introduced himself to.
"Mi dispiace. Il mio nome è Boxer."
Boxer! That was it. He was glad she had told him, and she seemed to be relaxing a little. He nodded. "Piacere," he said kindly. Speaking Italian always put him in a good mood. He was surprised at how quickly it was coming back to him. "Abitesti in Italia? Io, la mia madre immigratò al New York..."
(("Really? Hm. I live here...where are you from? Me too, I've see you before, but I don't remember you..." "Yes, yes, I'm from Manhattan. Of course, I know Jack, he's my best friend! Everyone knows Jack! How did you meet him?" "It's nice to meet you. Did you live in Italy? Me, my mother immigrated to New York..."))
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