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Post by Doll on Sept 6, 2010 14:50:52 GMT -5
Sitting in a crook made by a few crates, Doll had buried herself in, avoiding the sun as much as possible. Today was hide from the people who thought you pick pocketed them. Which she didn't. Someone else had stolen their wallet and she had bumped into them and they suspected her. The worst part? They were Scottish. You didn't mess with the Scottish, that much was obvious. So here she was, hiding in between a bunch of crates, avoiding being in the sunlight and being noticed, hiding from Scottish boys who were drunk out of their minds.
Yea, today was a good day for her. Definitely. It was the reason why she was just cramped up in between crates. Doll was positive one of them was full of something from at least Japan, seeing as how it was marked. But then again, it had been a while. She peeked her head out of where she had crawled into the knook, saw no one was there, but decided against going out of the knook, having grown comfortable in it, and moved so she was back in, and closed her eyes, letting herself get a quick nap, since this was probably one of the few moments you could get a nap at this time.
She was happy with the nap, but not the fact that it sounded like someone was nearby, which wasn't very reasurring to her, because who knew if they could find her, or if they couldn't find her. Right now, Doll just wanted a simple nap, one without interruption. |
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Post by The Pied Piper on Sept 12, 2010 19:06:00 GMT -5
Piper sat on the pile of crates, at the very top. His left leg was out in front of him and dangling over his seat, for it was hard to bend that leg since it had not set right when he had broken it. His right leg was bent and up against his chest. He surveryed the docks, piers, ships, with a bored expression, this expression breaking only enough for him to take a long drag off his cigarette. He murmured something that sounded like, 'Too many ships' but one could not be sure. He glanced down, hearing movement and thinking for a moment that something was coming to get him. But he only found a girl.
He placed his cigarette between his lips and slid off his crate and bounced down them painfully until he was level with the girl. He pulled his cigarette away, using his thumb and forefinger and pointed it at her, flicking some ashes away. "Why you sleepin' in the cranny of the crates?" He glanced over his shoulder as he asked this, for he had heard a noise and he knew it was George or someone else coming to attack him. But it was only a seagull. However, Piper was not fooled.
He did not look back at the girl, instead pushing his sleeves up his scarred arms to try and cool off a bit. His eyes were vacant and dull, not quite there. No, he was still in the Brooklyn Lodging House with Trash and Lady and Temper and Skidz and all the others. He finally looked at the girl, wondering if she was a Brooklynite. "Look, you'd better get out of here before He finds out. He'll get angry if he knows strange girlies are hangin' about."
He nodded matter-of-factly. Trash would be angry if strange girls were on his territory, though this one seemed familiar. Piper had been gone five years, he needed to make it up to Trash... When he finally showed his face around the Lodging House again, that is. |
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Post by Doll on Sept 14, 2010 19:16:32 GMT -5
Looking over at the guy, she answered, yawning, "Why not sleep in a cranny of crates? Blocks out the sun, and is quite comfy," watching the guy, she crawled out of the cranny, and watched him, furrowing her brows a little when he said she should get out of there, "Who the hell do you think you are, I grew up on these docks. And who'll get mad? Spot? Psh, I'm with Spot, unless ya mean someone else, then I'll soak 'em. No one can get me off this dock if they tried, I'd soak 'em."
The guy looked family, but she couldn't quite place the face to a name. Definitely someone she had seen before. That was for sure, but WHERE had she seen him? That question was bothering her quite a lot, and for no reason at all. Doll knew she had seen him before, she had to have seen him before. She just had to. If she could remember a face, she could certainly remember a face. But where she had seen it, she had no clue, and that made her angry at the fact that she couldn't remember where she had seen hsi face before. [/size] |
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Post by The Pied Piper on Sept 19, 2010 12:50:13 GMT -5
Piper snorted. "Comfy, right, and my mother was Queen of Sheba." He leaned away from her and glanced around uncomfortably. He was zoning out, but her words brought him to the present and he looked at her, quite alarmed. "Spot...? But what about... Trash?" He asked, feeling a sinking dread in the pit of his stomach. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and then flicked the ashes off his cigarette. "Who are you? And what do you mean, who am I?" He let the smoke curl out of his mouth in a thin, unbroken stream.
"I'm Piper." He said simply, turning away from her, trying to figure everything out. "And Spot... Spot Conlon, yes? Little squirt... A brat above all." He twitched a little, trying to shake off his dread. His shoulders hunched until he was sinking into himself. "Five years... And I'm not even welcomed on the dock anymore." He slid off the crates and tenderly stretched his left leg, wincing as pain shot up through it as he limped around. He shook his head, amazed that this all could be happening.
"Which one are you then?" he asked her quickly, realizing that she must be one of the brats who lived at the Lodging House under Trash. He took a long drag on the cigarette that caused him to begin coughing, eyes watering, he turned to look at her fully. "Hmm... I think I remember you... Tick-Tock, right?" He asked, guessing randomly. [/size] |
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Post by Doll on Sept 19, 2010 13:45:11 GMT -5
"My definition of comfy is different from yours, and Trash... he's off on some other job. I dont know what, I dont keep tabs on him all the time. He's trying to do somethin' though. That's for sure." Listening to him, Doll couldn't help but wonder who the hell this guy was, and what the hell was his problem. Staring at him, she couldn't help but perk up inwardly at the fact that this was Piper. Piper, he was a rat before, and if she remembered correctly, he was the one who taught her everything.
Shaking her head, she said, "I'm Doll, the one you trained. It's good to see you Piper, but your way off on your years. Trash left years ago. We thought you were gone too. Why you back anyway?" Doll couldn't help but wonder. He was gone for a long time, and it was weird, not having her mentor. That was how she had learned, though. She learned how to not be so dependant, and more. He gave her the tools to become great, but she had gotten her titles all by herself, except for being Spot's girl.
That was just cause she was marrried to him. |
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Post by The Pied Piper on Dec 23, 2010 13:18:46 GMT -5
Piper stared at her stupidly for a moment. "Wait, what? Why is Trash off doing something else... and why isn't anyone keeping tabs on him?" He looked around wildly, the whole dock seeming to swim in his vision. "What the hell?"
He looked at her. "Doll...? Soldier's sister?" He wanted to slam his head off a crate, brick, her, anything. "What happened to this place? Why did Trash leave?" He demanded angrily. "Was is Lady? Or Skidz?" He gasped loudly. "Did Skidz kill him?" He shook his head, ignoring her question for now and scampered up onto a stack of crates. He balanced himself carefully and looked at Brooklyn.
"Things are changin'. Everywhere. Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, everywhere. The rich are taking over and controlling everything! The whole world is gonna go to war soon and nobody can give a rat's ass about the kids on the street! They're the ones who have to die for this country, yet nobody can spare a piece of bread!" He shook his head and breathed heavily through his nose.
"Wait... why am I back?" He asked aloud. "Oh, you know how you get those feelings that make you do something you never thought you would? Well, I woke up one morning, looked at the girl in my bed and shook my head and thought about my miserable life. When was I ever happy? I thought, then I knew. Here, in Brooklyn, by Trash's side and with all the rats." He nodded, and took a long drag off the cigarette. "So, I came back. Just dropped everything and left." He shrugged. "And this is what I return to? Trash's little kingdom given unto babes." He eyed her warily. "So, who is the mighty leader now? And how about Manhattan, Queens, the Bronx, Harlem, Midtown? What else has changed?"
He wasn't quite asking, but he wasn't demanding either. There were no threats, for he could no longer bring himself to give threats to children. He could no longer stomach the violence in the streets. He knew the truth. He knew.
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