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Post by Fox on Jul 21, 2010 19:08:36 GMT -5
Pulling out the same stops, Fox leaned against the wall of the alley besides O'Brady's. Luckily, she'd managed to snag- of course- more beer. The goons at O'Brady's were probably sick and tired of someone constantly popping their annoying little red head in to steal their merchandise, but whatever. Sadly, they had an actual bartender now. Not some half drunk, fat porker who drunk most of the beer he sold. Rolling her eyes and snickering at the thought, She took another swig from the drink.
Besides, the O'Brady cronies wouldn't care about another beer stolen- there were bigger things to worry about. Like Irving Hall. She had to admit, she wasn't particularly happy at the thought of it being charred, but whatever. Was she a pretty cold-hearted, self-centered person for thinking that way?
Probably, but again- whatever. Taking her hair out from its cap, she shoved into her bag and chewed on her lip. It was Friday, about 8:00. She visited O'Brady's twice a week, at two totally different times. That way, she wouldn't arouse any suspicion. Bored as hell, she slid down the wall until she was just slouching against it on the ground.
Not many people were too fond of Fox, but she understood that- she could be a real pain in the ass sometimes. But, the people in 'Hattan were tolerant enough that she got to stay in the lodgehouse for 8 years, so it was all good. Looking up at the sky, she nodded approvingly- no big clouds. Sure, it was near pitch-black out, but as long as there was no rain, she was fine. She really, really hated water. Probably why she never, ever visited the docks...for one of two reasons.
One, screw up a little and you get thrown in. That didn't really scare her, though, there weren't too many people that could grab her before she could run.
Two, that was Brooklyn territory. 'Course, Fox was in Brooklyn often, just because she could be, but still. Brooklyn Newsies didn't like other Newsies on what they claimed as theirs.
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Post by Spot on Jul 24, 2010 13:46:22 GMT -5
The stream of cool beer flowing down his throat was foreign to him now. OR so he thought. It seemed as if it'd been years since he had beer, but he knew it hadn't been that long. And though he knew he had promised Doll, he knew where his feet were leading him.
O'Brady's. The place to get good beer in Brooklyn. Where else would he be going on a Friday night. The muggy air was suffucating him. He wanted a beer. He wanted a beer bad. Very bad. So bad.
He moved along and thought about it. He wanted one so bad, but Doll woul dbe so mad and.... He was about to walk into the door, but instead he went behind the bar into an alley. He put his head in his hands. He had problems. Such problems. He was going to start talking, but then sat up and looked and saw a red head.
"What the hell are you doing in brooklyn!" ((sorry it sucks))
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Post by Fox on Jul 24, 2010 18:27:59 GMT -5
Lifting her clever eyes up oh so slightly, Fox noticed an unmistakable figure sitting right by her. Hunched over figure, head in hands- obvious signs of someone in desperate need of a beer. Without making a peep, she took a sip from her bottle, waiting for him to notice someone was there.
"What the hell are you doing in Brooklyn!"
Melting out from the shadows, Fox smirked at the voice. "Living. Though ya' might have other plans, Conlon", she said sneakily. The person sitting in front of her was the ever infamous, Spot Conlon. AKA, her number one client when it came to supplying beer. They had an...odd relationship, to say the least. One that included punching, fighting, drinking buddies and slapping. "I don' care if Doll said ya' can't drink, but ya' need one a' these", she muttered, tossing him a beer.
Looking at her grime-caked fingers, she brushed a speck of dirt off her shoe and took another long, dragging sip on her now-empty bottle. Tossing it aside, she picked up another one, popping the top open and sipping. Again. In her mind, the people who dissed a cold beer, were the people who hadn't bothered to try one. Really, they probably should try it at least once- which would lead to twice and so on. Chances are they wouldn't be so...stiff, about it.
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Post by Spot on Jul 31, 2010 14:58:24 GMT -5
Spot
Spot couldn't help but smirk, which was the closest he ever got to smiling around anyone but Doll. "You really need to go find a bar to steal from in 'Hattan. Imma get Jacky boy to haul you off. Even worse, Snyder. Ya. Take ya to the refuge where theives like you belong." He looked over at her, and laughed. "Don't make me hit you Fox." There was something about Fox that made me want to hurt her and steal her beer, but not in the annoying way like he was with most people. He was almost her friend, and she almost his.
If only he wasn't always hurting her. He observed her neck, and even in the dark, he could make out a little bit of a bruise he had left on her. choking her, he had started to squeeze her neck a couplel of days ago. But he had stopped. Not to give himself any credit. If Fox hadn't had the strength to keep talking to him, to talk him out of it.
The crazy thing was that he didn't even remember what was going on when it occured. it was probably stupid. But there was something about Spot that just made him get so angry and disturbed and then it was almost like he blacked out. He wouldn't remember anything about it until he sat on the ground and had his head in his hands. It was a posistion similar to the one he was in now.
He saw her arm hold out a beer, and he took it. "I'm not supposed to drink," he said as he cracked open the beer bottle and took a swig. "Doll would kill me," he said through another swig. "Cause I'm not letting her drink at all." The mroe he tried to convince himself that he should be drinking, the mroe he though about all his problems, and the more beer he drank. "Your a no good cheating stealing fox. You know that."
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Post by Fox on Jul 31, 2010 15:15:27 GMT -5
"You really need to go find a bar to steal from in 'Hattan. Imma get Jacky boy to haul you off. Even worse, Snyder. Ya. Take ya to the refuge where theives like you belong."
"As if they could catch me. And 'hattan ain't got no good bars", she replied with a smirk, taking a swig from her beer. Spot was somewhat her friend, if not anything else. Really, she couldn't label what she'd call him, but she'd smirk around him in the only good way she could. As in, "theres no knife behind my back" way. "And if ya' hit me, I hit ya' back." That was...true. There were times when all they did was fight, but it was okay. Somewhat.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Spot's eyes, still focused on the mark on her neck that his hands made. "Don' worry 'bout it. Its healin'. Nobody seen it", she said nonchalantly, taking another swig from her beer. Adjusting her head, she pulled off her hat so that her hair fell in a way that the bruise was covered. No harm done.
She knew sometimes Spot just lost it, but Fox was annoying. Annoying as hell, most of the time- like a migraine. They were fighting over something random, but whatever. As long as she was still alive, all was good. "Pfft. I don' care what Doll says. And why won't ya' let her drink? If she comes home drunk just give her coffee and water. And Doll's tough, but she couldn't kill ya'." Fox didn't know why she drank...she just did. More and more, every day. Whatever.
"Your a no good cheating stealing fox. You know that."
"Oh, REALLY? I had no idea", she replied sneakily, laughing, "Thats true, and I am damn proud of it."
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Post by Spot on Aug 5, 2010 23:42:29 GMT -5
"As if they could catch me. And 'hattan ain't got no good bars. And if ya' hit me, I hit ya' back."
Spot smirked again, staring at her. "I'm sure they do have a good bar somewhere. At least a decent bar. And you couldn't hit me. Cause then we'd be in a full out brawl in a dark alley and I'd get arrest, and then god knows what Doll would do, and then I'd have to kill you. And then I'd get arrested again, and probably killed and... It would not be pretty." He stared at her with a quirk, taking another sip of beer.
And even though she had just assured him that she was fine, he could still see the bruises, and wondered why he was so violent. He drained his bottle, and tossed it in the air, pulling out his slingshot and shattering it. "Close your eyes," he said a split second before hitting it.
The glass shattered, and he felt a bit of glass fly over his skin, nicking it. "I couldn't let Doll drink. She's too.... Doll. You don't get it. Gimmie another beer." Doll had gotten into a bar fight before, she could be just as violent as he could be. A bar fight and a baby do not go well together.
Spot rolled his eyes at Fox. "You know what. I ooiughta drag ya out of Brooklyn."
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Post by Fox on Aug 6, 2010 9:01:03 GMT -5
"Technically", she began, taking another swig from her drink. "I could hit you. But then, like ya' said, ya' would try and kill me." Tossing her empty bottle aside, she dug out a new one from her bag, popping the cap open with her teeth. "Emphasize on try. If ya' killed me, nobody could get ya' these for free."
Basically, her theory was that Spot couldn't kill her, because then nobody could get him free liquor. Addiction was powerful- really, really powerful. It was so easy to get hooked, and so hard to force yourself off of it. Fox herself just couldn't imagine not having all these addictions around her. Really, what was it like to wake up, not craving a drag on a cigarette or a sip of some sort of alcohol.
"Close your eyes."
Pulling her knees up to her chest, she drew her arm over her face, shielding it from stray pieces of glass. A piece of glass slid across her open hand, cutting it. Sighing, she inspected it. A little deeper then a paper cut- going across from the bottom of her pinky to the bottom of her thumb. Nothing bad. Ripping a piece of fabric from her shirt, she laced it on her hand.
Setting her hand aside, she slid another beer over to Spot, taking another sip of hers. "Too Doll?", she asked quizzically, raising an eyebrow. "Doll is Doll. Ya' are just way to protective of her. Feel like if I touch her, ya' will slice my hand off."
Fox raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. "Ya' always say that. Pfft. I'm still here, girlie."
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Post by Spot on Sept 7, 2010 16:15:42 GMT -5
"Technically, I could hit you. But then, like ya' said, ya' would try and kill me. Emphasize on try. If ya' killed me, nobody could get ya' these for free."
Damn it, she was right.
Spot was an addict, just like Fox, and it was ridiculous how much he depended on her for beer. Which was something he didn't like doing. He didn't even like Fox very much. In fact, one could say he hated the girl. And they'd probably be right. But he needed his beer, and free beer was the best beer. Not to mention he'd practically killed her more than a few times by now. And you just can't kill the people who give you beer even after you tried to kill them.
He scoffed, smirking, pretending that he was recognizing that she was ridiculously correct in her statement. Instead he just took a simple sip of beer.
He winced as usual at her wrapping her finger, though it didn't look serious. He tried to let it roll off his back, but was all the same as nervous as usual. "You gotta stop getting hurt. It makes things far to complicated." He took another sip of beer, which turned into a gulp, and maybe even a half chug. He stared aimlessly at the wall once he placed the bottle down, coughing quickly then tacking another swig. It was just so intoxicating, the way the alcohol drew him into it's bottle.
"I'm not protective. She's just easily hurt. And if you did, you'd probably hurt her. So that's true. She's just so...." He struggled for a word again. "Breakable. Ya know?"
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Post by Fox on Sept 7, 2010 16:33:14 GMT -5
Seeing the smirk on his face and hearing the scoff made Fox snicker. Those two acts signified that she was right, which was always a good thing. It never seemed like it, but Fox was smart. Maybe a bit crazy, very violent, but smart, nonetheless. Taking another swig, she tossed the empty bottle aside, feeling the lingering sensation of a burn in her throat. Addiction was strong; and it wasn't something Fox wasn't willing to fight against. Maybe- maybe- she had the chance of quitting. But then she'd get back to being hooked on it. Either way, she couldn't win. In the back of her mind, there was always the nagging sensation that the drinking was hurting her, but she always brushed it away. She could live with it.
"You gotta stop getting hurt. It makes things far to complicated."
Rolling her eyes, she cracked open a bottle with her teeth and pointed at him. "Theres a difference between being injured and being hurt. Hurt means that I was in pain. Injured doesn't mean I am", she said, carefully placing her words. Really, the cut didn't hurt in the slightest. Initial stinging at first, but it died out within seconds. Being a newsie, you got used to the random cuts and scratches that you got, to the point where they meant nothing. Besides, Fox would do close to anything else then show someone she was in pain. "This is what I call an injury. No pain, just...its there. And it makes nothing 'complicated'."
"I'm not protective. She's just easily hurt. And if you did, you'd probably hurt her. So that's true. She's just so...."
Thinking about the issue for a moment, she ran her hands through her firey mane. Really, it was a combination of both. Spot was way too over protective of Doll. And Doll wasn't easily hurt; she was just targeted alot.
"Breakable. Ya know?"
"She's a little breakable- but not really- alot a' people these days are. Doll just...sees the "good" in people. She' got good instincts. Honestly, I just think that she's way too nice", there was some truth in that statement, and alot of opinion. Technically, Fox thought everyone was too nice. There was close to less than a quarter of an ounce of kindness in hrr body, and unfortunately, she never put that to use."Don't deny that ya' ain't too protective of her, cause ya' are."
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Post by Spot on Sept 21, 2010 19:35:46 GMT -5
Spot looked at Fox, starring at her with eyes that were the normal cold stare of his eyes.
She refused to give up. She refused to be submissive toward him. For some reason she had the audacity to laugh in his face. He stared at her more, smirking, then scowling, then downright frowning. Finally, he moved toward her. "I can't stand you." He was quiet, then yelled. "I CAN'T STAND YOU!" Finally he quieted, and went on as if he had never had anything done at all, as if he had never said a word, as if he'd never even yelled once in his life. Which of course, he had.
"I guess your right. You gotta stop getting injured." He smirked. "It makes me feel guilty about myself." The comment, the way the conversation went back to to the casual. It wasn't hard for them to be kind. They were not friends. And they were not enemies. They were linked in an odd way, and it was practically impossible to get away from her. And she gave him his addiction. They couldn't be closer in some ways.
And in someways they couldn't be further apart.
Like how he was constantly hurting her, or how she kept on bad mouthing him. Contradicting him like no one else had ever had the guts to do. Supplying beer to his wife whose addiction he was trying to break.
"Doll is doll. she's just... a porcelain doll. I know I protect her to much but... We just can't trust her."
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Post by Fox on Sept 21, 2010 20:30:25 GMT -5
She watched in silence as his face went from a smirk, to a a somewhat typical spot-scowl, then to a face of downright annoyance, dislike and a hell of a lot of anger.
"I can't stand you."
Her muscles tensed up, and she refused to level her icy gaze from his. The last thing she would do is drop her gaze, look flushed and worried.
Because, she really wasn't.
"I CANT STAND YOU!"
Fox clenched her jaw together, and let out a growl. That was fine with her. Most people couldn't stand Fox. But she knew that. Not that she liked it, but she'd grown used to it. It had never hurt her in the first place. She scoffed and gave him a shove- nothing big. "Name one person who can", she said, smirking and tilting her head to the side. Soon, the yelling subsided, the conversation slowly easing back to its not-really normal state. That was how it was with the two. There was really no balance between them; either they were yelling, screaming and aiming punches or having mixed-up conversations like this.
"I guess your right. You gotta stop getting injured." He smirked. "It makes me feel guilty about myself."
Shaking her head with her sly smirk still poised on her face, she tossed one bottle on the ground, kicking aside the glass shards. She was right. Spot admitting she was right was a pretty blue-moon incident.
"One perk to being Fox", she began, "I feel no guilt. And, you just admitted I was right." Pointing that out was probably not the wisest decision, on Fox's part.
She couldn't say that she hated Spot. But she couldn't call him a friend. Although, she couldn't deny how many similarities they shared. Addiction, coldness, guts...on the other side of the table, nobody could deny their differences.
In some ways, they were the same. In others, not in the slightest bit.
"Doll is doll. she's just... a porcelain doll. I know I protect her to much but... We just can't trust her."
Pausing for a moment, she twirled a glass shard around in her fingers. "Doll is tough. But she's married to Spot Conlon", she continued, "And Spot Conlon's got alota' enemies. And Brooklyn's got alot of enemies. Doll isa'...married to you. But she's also married ta' Brooklyn...the borough, not the person. She's targeted."
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Post by Spot on Sept 21, 2010 20:49:20 GMT -5
There were a couple of reasons that Fox was still alive.
The first was that Doll wouldn't let Spot kill her. That was a pretty big reason.
But there were more reasons that she was still alive. Like the fact the Fox amused Spot. It was times like now, when she made for of how much he hated her, that she remembered that he was still in charge. Just because Fox wouldn't leave, that didn't mean he still wasn't a very strong person. The leader of Brooklyn none the less. He was still in charge, and her humor made that even more evident.
"Your lucky I don't kill you on the spot sometimes." He shook his head. He had such mixed feelings about her sometimes. Such mixed emotions. He'd want to kill her and talk with her at the same time. It was weird.
"But then again. I have guilt." He picked up a beer bottle from her bag and cracked it open. The satisfying burn made him smile. It was just what he needed to satisfy his stress levels. Just top them off with an ice cold beer.
He considered what she was saying, and realized it was true. He was thinking she was right. But he couldn't say it twice in a year to her. "so what am I supposed to do, leave her?" He realized his words. "I wasn't being serious"
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Post by Fox on Sept 21, 2010 21:03:30 GMT -5
"Your lucky I don't kill you on the spot sometimes."
Wiping her mouth with the long, ratted sleeve of her shirt, she shrugged. "Thats only cause Doll won't let you", she said. That was true. Fox would bet on the chance that if Doll didn't do anything, there was a chance she would be dead right now. But, she would fight back. And she was always a fast runner. She watched him shake his head, and pointed at him. "Whats the head-shake for?" Although, some part of her kind of knew. Spot was confused about her. She couldn't blame him, feeling the same way 'bout him. Really, there were times were all she could do was yell and fight with him. But still.
Moments after he'd fished another beer out of her bag, she snatched it up, pulling out another bottle of something stronger. Sending him a glare that literally spoke "mine" she took a sip of it, feeling the fire rush down her throat.
Once he said "leave her" she rolled her eyes and pushed a lock of her hair out of her face.
"I wasn't being serious."
"I'm not stupid", she hissed, taking another sip of her drink. "Obviously, you can't leave Doll. For your life and hers. But Doll's managed with you for....what....3 years? Give it time." At the word "mention", Fox showcased an exasperated look and gave a few slow claps.
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Post by Spot on Sept 22, 2010 16:17:58 GMT -5
"Exactly," he said, speaking under his breath, concentrating on his words as he took a drink from his bottle of beer. he wanted a buzz. The liquid that he had been deprived from for so long was finally back into his system. He craved it.
"Nothing," he mumbled. "The head shake is for nothing." He wasn't gonna bother giving her his honest to god thoughts about her. It was just something that he couldn't share with anyone that he knew. He just had to stay with himself and stay inside himself. Stories that he only told himself, and nothing else but memories. Sometimes they were positive thoughts that he never ever made public. It was just his to keep. Only his.
He glared back at her, knowing that whatever it was that she had grabbed, it was stronger than that which he had grabbed. He scowled at her, dropping his bottle, which shattered and quickly rumaged through the bag for his guilty pleasure. Gin.
Grabbing a bottle quickly, before she could snatch it, he cracked open the bottle neck and took a long drink.
He sighed. "I just don't ever know what to do."
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Post by Fox on Sept 22, 2010 18:40:31 GMT -5
"The head shake is for nothing."
Giving a slight shake of her head, she averted her eyes to the street, brushing a strand of her firey mane behind her shoulder. She kind of understood where Spot was coming from with that. Fox kept whatever she wanted to keep to herself to herself. You'd be hard-pressed to try and get it out of her, cause she'd never tell you. Of course, there was more then one reason for that.
Mainly cause she couldn't remember nearly a thing about her life before becoming a Newsie. She knew her real name (although she wished she didn't) and it ended there.
Letting out a growl as he snatched up something out of her bag, she let out a clawed hand and pulled away her bag, watching as he drank her gin. "Get yer' own... One of these days, I ain't givin' ya' anymore. And not on Doll's request", she hissed, being pretty hypocritical of herself. So maybe Fox was one of the number one suppliers of beers out there, but still. She wanted her beer just as much as anyone she supplied did. Taking a long gulp of her drink, she wiped her mouth with her bony wrist, examining the contents of the bottle. She'd need more soon.
"I just don't ever know what to do."
"That right there is proving my point. Romance. Is. Stupid", she said with a smirk and a sneer. Fox had abolished all facets of Romance that her mind had ever held. Bottom line, it was pretty much useless to her.
Fox didn't like being dependent on people. No romance. No dependence. She relied on herself for as much as she could; selfish of her, but not like she cared.
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