The taste of Cigarettes, the taste of Tea.
Part one::Sour Dough
Disclaimer: I don't own nuttin'. 'Cept Rori, and my own creative genius. Hah. Genius, right.
Rori stumbled out of the ship's cargo hold, it had been hell down there for the past three weeks with the rats and the mice, and just about nothing to eat or drink, so the glare of the sun was a little disorienting. Tripping over a pile of rope she looked up at her surroundings. Of all the places in New York to end up in, shit, this can't be no good.
Of all the places in the world to end up, Brooklyn had to be about the worst. Well, sure, this was New York, but Brooklyn was known as being the city's most dangerous district. It didn't bother Rori too much though, she might be a girl and all but she could damn well soak just about any guy who made a deal of it. Still, no good could come of it.
Picking up her bag she disentangled herself from the rope and swung the bag over her shoulder, straightened her hat and began to walk.
Her tight leather shoes clacked against the cobble road, and made a kinda' shuffling noise that's comforting to the ear after three weeks on board a ship with no solid ground to stand on. Shuffling through her pockets she found a cigarette and stuck it in the corner of her mouth.
"Smokin' ain't no use on ships, if ya smoke the damn sailors will smell it an throw you off board". She told herself out loud, frowning at the grim prospect and pulling a book of matches from the back pocket of her britches, lighting the cigarette with her left hand.
She wondered around the shipping yard for a while, she was going to head to the Brooklyn Bridge in the morning, all sorts of low-life creeps hung around down there at night, or so she'd heard.
"Betta find a boat to sleep in down by ta' river or somethin'." She mused, picking her way through a collection of barrels and carts. It was still early, 'bout 5 o'clock or so, judging from the sun, but she still didn't expect to find anyone down by the river.
It shocked her a little to see the group of young boys, between the ages of eight to eighteen around the docks. She didn't let that detour her though, boys was just boys anyway. She walked down the docks for a way before getting stopped by a boy of about sixteen or seventeen years, her was tall and towered a good four inches above her small 5'5" frame. Probably didn't notice she was a girl with her hair under her hat and the loose jacket she was wearing.
"You goin' somewhere, kid?"
"Yeah I'se goin' somewherese," She replied, annoyed at this sudden, unexpected inconvenience.
"and you's 'd be wantin' ta get outta my way so's I can get there."
"Watch yourself kid, you're in Spot Conol's terrirory here, and us Brooklyn newsies don't take no crap from no one, ya hear me?"
Rori rolled her eyes from beneath the brim of her cap.
"Yeah I hears you, and I don't mean no trouble 'neither, just gotta take care of a little business, that's all."
She shoved her way past the stupid loafer and began to walk away before he seized her upper arm suddenly and pushed her off the docks. " Damn it you joik!" she shrieked, grabbing the front of his shirt in an attempt to pull him in with her. She succeeded. The yelling and the loud splash had obviously attracted the other newsies attention, because when she surfaced again there was a crowd of them around the area she had just fallen from. Pulling herself to the edge of the water, she attempted to hoist herself back on to the dock.
"My my my, what's all this about then?"
The newsies turned and moved aside, as the boy who just spoke approached them. He leaned over the edge of the dock and held out a hand to the boy in the water, hoisting him out . He walked further down the dock to where Rori was furiously trying to get her footing and muttering to herself.
"Damn joik pushin' me in ta the water, al me cigg's gone soaked now, useless."
"And what kinda bedraggled water rat do we have here?" The boy asked, holding a gold-ended cane in front of her face. "And whose might you be, kid?"
"Who I'se be ain't none of your concoin." Was the sharp retort. Spot smirked,
"Well, I thinks it's me conjoin' since you're just pushed one a me mates in ta this here river. Not a good thing to do in Brooklyn."
Rori almost spat at him, and falling back she yelled, "You say I pushed him in ta the river!"
"Yes I says that, now, would you like a hand out a there or is you content with freezin' ta death?"
he asked, and she had to admit he made sense.
Rori reluctantly gave him her hand, and was pulled forcefully out of the water to land face-first on the dock. Giggles were heard from the several of the other newsies. Rori got to her feet, shooting Spot, who was also chuckling, her best death glare.
"Shut it!" She barked at him, causing his smirk to turn in to a frown, he being no longer amused with this verbal abuse being directed so pointedly at his person.
He grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling her face, still partially hidden by the hat, up to his
"Now you look here, kid, I dun know who you are, or what you gone and done to one a me boys here, but no one talks to Spot Conol that way, not it Brooklyn and not no where else, ya understand?" She pushed him off her harshly, causing him to stumble slightly.
"I don't care who you are or where I'se at, no one's gonna tell me how ta speak to them."
"Oh yeah, yeah, is that what you think, huh kid?" Spot asked her calmly, "You think that you can just go around insulting me and my boys?"
Rori had given up on reasoning, and was quite prepared to shove her fist in his face. It was a bad idea and she knew it, but seeing the look on his face was worth it without question. He fell back on to the dock, suprised and clearly a little shaken. He gingerly touched his lip, which was bleeding, and stood up. The boys had formed a circle around them and were now jeering at them, yelling at Spot and telling him to soak the kid. Spot knew that any kid who'd do that to him deserved it back at least twice as hard.
Spot ran at her, and after a few unsuccessful swings managed to land a punch to the side of her head, knocking her over. Reeling with pain and the sudden onslaught of dizziness, Rori didn't think twice about pulling off her cap to tend to the wound, which was a bad idea. As soon as she pulled it off the pile of wet hair came tumbling down around her face.
"Shit! It's a goil!" One of the boys said.
Spot blinked, and suddenly regretted his poor choice of actions. Cute kid he thought, Too bad I didn't notice that before.
."Hey, is you alright?" He asked, kneeling beside her. "D'you think I'm alright ya prick!?" Rori, who was not one to take pity at all, especially if it was because she was a girl, yelled in his face.
Spot mumbled some sort of apology, which just made Rori's anger soar. "Oh shove it up your hole you lousy git! I don't wanna hear you apologisin' ta me jus' 'cause I'se a girl or nuttin'!"
Spot had to admit, she had guts, so he decided he could forgive her for that one, considering what he'd just done, and grabbed her by the elbow, hoisting her to her feet. He slung her arm around his shoulder to hold her up "Well, come on little fire ball, let's get you somethin' ta eat." Rori was confused "What are you doing?" "Well," Spot replied, and then paused, seemingly in though
"It takes allot of guts to stand up to the likes of me, allot of guts and stupidity, I might add. But no, I figure that since you didn't know so much well--- Not many goils, or bois for dat matta' would dare do somethin' like that to me if thay knows who I am, maybe on in a million or somethin'. So I figure you'se is alright." Rori shrugged, and pulled herself off him.
"Alright, but just so ya knows it Spot, I can walk by me self."
The next day, Rori met Spot down at the docks, she had agreed to meet him the night before, in exchange for a free meal, that was. When she got there, Spot was facing the Brooklyn Bridge; he pointed at it with his cane, turned around and smirked at her, that stupid smirk.
"So, that's where you'se is goin', is I correct?" Rori nodded.
"yeah, that's where I'm goin'. The east end, no sense stayin' here in Brookly."
"Naw naw, come on, what's da matta with Brooklyn?"
"Two woids: Spot Conol." Spot chuckled.
"I like you kid, I likes you allot, an as I said before, you got guts. This city could use a kid like you, 'specially someplace as borin' as the east end." He said, tapping her chin with the end of the cane.
"So, what's yer name kid? Or do I have ta keep callin' you fire ball?"
"Name's Rori."
"Rori, dat's a weird name, ain't it?"
"Yeah, well Spot's not exactly yer average name eider." Spot sighed,
"Come on, I'll walk ya cross the bridge."
"You dun need ta walk me, I can look after me self."
"It's not you'se I'm worried about, it's the East side I'se is worryin' about. Gotta give 'em some pre-shock treatment before you'se goes bargin' in."
Part one::Sour Dough
Disclaimer: I don't own nuttin'. 'Cept Rori, and my own creative genius. Hah. Genius, right.
Rori stumbled out of the ship's cargo hold, it had been hell down there for the past three weeks with the rats and the mice, and just about nothing to eat or drink, so the glare of the sun was a little disorienting. Tripping over a pile of rope she looked up at her surroundings. Of all the places in New York to end up in, shit, this can't be no good.
Of all the places in the world to end up, Brooklyn had to be about the worst. Well, sure, this was New York, but Brooklyn was known as being the city's most dangerous district. It didn't bother Rori too much though, she might be a girl and all but she could damn well soak just about any guy who made a deal of it. Still, no good could come of it.
Picking up her bag she disentangled herself from the rope and swung the bag over her shoulder, straightened her hat and began to walk.
Her tight leather shoes clacked against the cobble road, and made a kinda' shuffling noise that's comforting to the ear after three weeks on board a ship with no solid ground to stand on. Shuffling through her pockets she found a cigarette and stuck it in the corner of her mouth.
"Smokin' ain't no use on ships, if ya smoke the damn sailors will smell it an throw you off board". She told herself out loud, frowning at the grim prospect and pulling a book of matches from the back pocket of her britches, lighting the cigarette with her left hand.
She wondered around the shipping yard for a while, she was going to head to the Brooklyn Bridge in the morning, all sorts of low-life creeps hung around down there at night, or so she'd heard.
"Betta find a boat to sleep in down by ta' river or somethin'." She mused, picking her way through a collection of barrels and carts. It was still early, 'bout 5 o'clock or so, judging from the sun, but she still didn't expect to find anyone down by the river.
It shocked her a little to see the group of young boys, between the ages of eight to eighteen around the docks. She didn't let that detour her though, boys was just boys anyway. She walked down the docks for a way before getting stopped by a boy of about sixteen or seventeen years, her was tall and towered a good four inches above her small 5'5" frame. Probably didn't notice she was a girl with her hair under her hat and the loose jacket she was wearing.
"You goin' somewhere, kid?"
"Yeah I'se goin' somewherese," She replied, annoyed at this sudden, unexpected inconvenience.
"and you's 'd be wantin' ta get outta my way so's I can get there."
"Watch yourself kid, you're in Spot Conol's terrirory here, and us Brooklyn newsies don't take no crap from no one, ya hear me?"
Rori rolled her eyes from beneath the brim of her cap.
"Yeah I hears you, and I don't mean no trouble 'neither, just gotta take care of a little business, that's all."
She shoved her way past the stupid loafer and began to walk away before he seized her upper arm suddenly and pushed her off the docks. " Damn it you joik!" she shrieked, grabbing the front of his shirt in an attempt to pull him in with her. She succeeded. The yelling and the loud splash had obviously attracted the other newsies attention, because when she surfaced again there was a crowd of them around the area she had just fallen from. Pulling herself to the edge of the water, she attempted to hoist herself back on to the dock.
"My my my, what's all this about then?"
The newsies turned and moved aside, as the boy who just spoke approached them. He leaned over the edge of the dock and held out a hand to the boy in the water, hoisting him out . He walked further down the dock to where Rori was furiously trying to get her footing and muttering to herself.
"Damn joik pushin' me in ta the water, al me cigg's gone soaked now, useless."
"And what kinda bedraggled water rat do we have here?" The boy asked, holding a gold-ended cane in front of her face. "And whose might you be, kid?"
"Who I'se be ain't none of your concoin." Was the sharp retort. Spot smirked,
"Well, I thinks it's me conjoin' since you're just pushed one a me mates in ta this here river. Not a good thing to do in Brooklyn."
Rori almost spat at him, and falling back she yelled, "You say I pushed him in ta the river!"
"Yes I says that, now, would you like a hand out a there or is you content with freezin' ta death?"
he asked, and she had to admit he made sense.
Rori reluctantly gave him her hand, and was pulled forcefully out of the water to land face-first on the dock. Giggles were heard from the several of the other newsies. Rori got to her feet, shooting Spot, who was also chuckling, her best death glare.
"Shut it!" She barked at him, causing his smirk to turn in to a frown, he being no longer amused with this verbal abuse being directed so pointedly at his person.
He grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling her face, still partially hidden by the hat, up to his
"Now you look here, kid, I dun know who you are, or what you gone and done to one a me boys here, but no one talks to Spot Conol that way, not it Brooklyn and not no where else, ya understand?" She pushed him off her harshly, causing him to stumble slightly.
"I don't care who you are or where I'se at, no one's gonna tell me how ta speak to them."
"Oh yeah, yeah, is that what you think, huh kid?" Spot asked her calmly, "You think that you can just go around insulting me and my boys?"
Rori had given up on reasoning, and was quite prepared to shove her fist in his face. It was a bad idea and she knew it, but seeing the look on his face was worth it without question. He fell back on to the dock, suprised and clearly a little shaken. He gingerly touched his lip, which was bleeding, and stood up. The boys had formed a circle around them and were now jeering at them, yelling at Spot and telling him to soak the kid. Spot knew that any kid who'd do that to him deserved it back at least twice as hard.
Spot ran at her, and after a few unsuccessful swings managed to land a punch to the side of her head, knocking her over. Reeling with pain and the sudden onslaught of dizziness, Rori didn't think twice about pulling off her cap to tend to the wound, which was a bad idea. As soon as she pulled it off the pile of wet hair came tumbling down around her face.
"Shit! It's a goil!" One of the boys said.
Spot blinked, and suddenly regretted his poor choice of actions. Cute kid he thought, Too bad I didn't notice that before.
."Hey, is you alright?" He asked, kneeling beside her. "D'you think I'm alright ya prick!?" Rori, who was not one to take pity at all, especially if it was because she was a girl, yelled in his face.
Spot mumbled some sort of apology, which just made Rori's anger soar. "Oh shove it up your hole you lousy git! I don't wanna hear you apologisin' ta me jus' 'cause I'se a girl or nuttin'!"
Spot had to admit, she had guts, so he decided he could forgive her for that one, considering what he'd just done, and grabbed her by the elbow, hoisting her to her feet. He slung her arm around his shoulder to hold her up "Well, come on little fire ball, let's get you somethin' ta eat." Rori was confused "What are you doing?" "Well," Spot replied, and then paused, seemingly in though
"It takes allot of guts to stand up to the likes of me, allot of guts and stupidity, I might add. But no, I figure that since you didn't know so much well--- Not many goils, or bois for dat matta' would dare do somethin' like that to me if thay knows who I am, maybe on in a million or somethin'. So I figure you'se is alright." Rori shrugged, and pulled herself off him.
"Alright, but just so ya knows it Spot, I can walk by me self."
The next day, Rori met Spot down at the docks, she had agreed to meet him the night before, in exchange for a free meal, that was. When she got there, Spot was facing the Brooklyn Bridge; he pointed at it with his cane, turned around and smirked at her, that stupid smirk.
"So, that's where you'se is goin', is I correct?" Rori nodded.
"yeah, that's where I'm goin'. The east end, no sense stayin' here in Brookly."
"Naw naw, come on, what's da matta with Brooklyn?"
"Two woids: Spot Conol." Spot chuckled.
"I like you kid, I likes you allot, an as I said before, you got guts. This city could use a kid like you, 'specially someplace as borin' as the east end." He said, tapping her chin with the end of the cane.
"So, what's yer name kid? Or do I have ta keep callin' you fire ball?"
"Name's Rori."
"Rori, dat's a weird name, ain't it?"
"Yeah, well Spot's not exactly yer average name eider." Spot sighed,
"Come on, I'll walk ya cross the bridge."
"You dun need ta walk me, I can look after me self."
"It's not you'se I'm worried about, it's the East side I'se is worryin' about. Gotta give 'em some pre-shock treatment before you'se goes bargin' in."