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Post by August Davis on Sept 30, 2010 20:35:05 GMT -5
August Davis was out in space, completely zoned out. He absently drummed his fingers on the table for two in Tibby's. It wasn't the best place to eat, but when you're hungry, you're hungry. He hadn't had anything to eat in a few days, but when he had almost gotten caught while pickpocketing that morning he decided it was time to eat something. The closest place was Tibby's. A roast beef sandwich, coleslaw and coke sounded wonderful to him. He had enough money for it. He had been saving his money, he wanted to buy Liv something special; something nice for everything she had done for him and the gang.
He stared out the window as he waited for the waitress to take his order. He propped his head up on his large hand, huffing with impatience. His mother said patience was a virtue. He said she was crazy. She would probably be cursing at the waitress and complaining if she was as hungry as he was.
Self control wasn't her strongest suit.
He smirked to himself at that thought. August wished she would hurry up. There were several rich people out that day, and he was anxious to get back out on the streets and rob them blind. He looked around, trying to spot a waitress. They were all blurs. The restaurant was busy and crowded, and they seemed to be short a few hands. He rolled his eyes in annoyance, and lit a cigarette. Was there a rule against no smoking? He couldn't remember, and frankly, he didn't care. He took a drag and flicked away some ashes. Maybe that would take the edge off his hunger until the slowest waitress on Earth came to take his order.
August turned his attention back to the window and watched the people pass by. Two businessmen walked by, several newsies, a mother or governess tried to control three small children. He grinned. Children would always have a soft spot in his heart. August had no idea why, but they were one of his weaknesses.
He heard someone approach his table, and he silently prayed that it was the waitress. He looked over to the edge of the table, hoping he wouldn't be disappointed.
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Post by love on Oct 1, 2010 22:05:25 GMT -5
 xox  xox  As if things didn't seem to flow through her mind like pages in a burnt out book, a story that had been read a thousand times to only be tossed aside in an old attic and left behind...forgotten. She felt more and more like this ever day, from the time she awoke to the time she went to sleep. It wasn't that he felt ignored by any means by her fellow newsies, it was the fact that she always felt as though something were missing, something were taken from her that she could never get back, but she could never figure out what it was. As much as Jack always told her and the others always warned her about her pickpocketing habits and her mischievous scheming she never really wanted to ever give those up, she was good at it, good at petty theft, she was good at thievery that newsies shouldn't be good at and her schemes could easily be interpretted as someone with a derranged sense of humor. It all depended on how one looked at things from the outside. Nothing to do, no papes to sell, she had finished her entire stack of 75, each day she upped her sells by a few papes and afterward she would consider picking a few pockets, hustling just abit or spending som time to herself. She had managed to snag a few things from some hoity toitys on her way to lunch, a bracelet, a watch, a wallet and it was her luck for not getting caught. She could hear her stomach growling as she entered the resteraunt, it was packed today, barely any open tables or seats, what was with the crowd? She let a sigh escape her lips as she ran her fingers through her hair and her eyes fell upon an open chair. She eyed the guy at the table, he seemed decent enough, quite the looker if she could say so herself too. She let a smirk cross her lips as she walked over to the table, a slight pip in her step and as she reached the table she cleared her throat abit quietly for him to hear as she allowed her eyes to attempt to meet his. "Ciao signore, dispiace se mi siedo con te?" she spoke her italian so naturally she almost forgot before she fixed herself, "Sorry... Hi sir, would you mind if I sit with you?" she reiterated her statement as she apologized for speaking Italian to him. She eyed the open chair abit before glancing to him once more, "Normally I would not ask so much of someone else, but as you may notice there are very little open seats and you look like a decent guy.... I wouldn't mind joining you that is unless you are waiting for someone else," she stated as she realized he could be waiting for someone else to be joining him, something like a date perhaps? She did not know for certain.  xox  xox  Word Count: Minus my icons 519 To:August Davis Notes: I think this will be awesome August!!! Muse:Fantastic!!! |
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Post by August Davis on Oct 1, 2010 22:38:32 GMT -5
When he turned his head he was met with a foreign tongue. It was definitely not the waitress. Disappointment reared it's ugly head, and frustration ran through his veins. He scowled at the girl. She was dirty looking, sort of pretty (weren't they all?), and looked hungry. He had no right to judge, being the leader of the pickpockets and all, but he was starving. Whatever was pleasant about August Davis was long gone. He looked away, not understanding her, and didn't want to bother.
Then she spoke again. Only it was in English that time. He flicked away some ashes of his cigarette as he looked her over again. She wanted to sit with him. How cute. He glanced at the empty spot across from him. Why should he let this stranger share his table with him? He was doing fine without company, and was planning on eating alone. It would give him a nice twenty or thirty minutes to himself. But, those twenty-some minutes have come and gone. What should he do?
What if Liv walked into Tibby's and saw him eating with another girl? Or one of the members of his gang? What would they think? He had quite a history with women, but Liv was the only one who mattered now. If he lost her, he couldn't imagine what he would do. He glanced at the hungry looking girl again and took a drag from his cigarette. His good side was overpowering the bad. He couldn't let her wait and starve. She looked fragile, too thin for his liking. She began talking again, he propped his head up as he listened to her.
His eyebrows raised when she said he was decent looking. He looked down at his tattered and stained clothes. This was decent to her? She must come from a pretty rough place. Better than sleeping on made up pallets on dirt. But, it kept everyone dry and it was free. He wasn't going to complain about his beloved warehouse. He flicked away some more ashes before he ran his free hand through his hair and nodded. August gestured to the seat across from him. "Sit." He said, gruffly.
Well, at least he had just performed his good deed for the day.
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Post by Deliverance Chevalier on Oct 2, 2010 17:00:10 GMT -5
Deliverance Chevalier was in a surprisingly good mood that day. Her employer had been kind enough to let the girl off work early. So instead of spending the day beating rugs and blacking grates until her arms fell off, she was heading to the nearest place for food, Tibby's. Liv entered the resturant and found it extremely busy. She spotted a familiar shock of hair. August. With an excited spring to her step, she rushed over to his table, ready to envelop him with a kiss or two. Instead, she found him talking to a girl.
Curious, but not angry, Liv approached the table still and said in a quiet voice, "Hello, August." She glanced at the girl, not sure what to say or do at this point. "Hello, I am Deliverance." She said affably, her mouth stretching into her dimpled grin. Her black hair was up in a tight bun, and her blue dress was smudged with soot from the rich lady's chimney. She turned to August, setting the basket she always seemed to carry with her on the table. "I have a pie in dere, August. Peach this time. I made it this morning, 'tis still warm." She touched his shoulder, her lean brown hand lingering on his shoulder.
"Mind if I sit down, or where you waitin' for Chance or somebody?" She asked quietly, not sure if he would want to girl to overhear. She glanced at the other. "But if you are having a meal with her, I can wait outside..." She said, smiling sweetly. The idea of sharing your man was not disgusting to Liv. Her mother had done the same thing. And August was white, this girl was white, Liv was not. It made sense in her mind.
She straightened up and attempted to straighten her wrinkled dress. She noticed her shoes were scuffed. She sighed under her breath. She never seemed pretty anymore. She could barely remember the last pretty thing she wore. It had been... Nearly a year ago... And it was a blue, no purple, dress. Made of... What was it made of? Liv felt a slight twinge of panic, but then looked at August. She had something much better now, didn't she?
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