Cards )( *Mush looks insulted* He's the one that bought me those purple poodles of doom, THANK YOU very much… HAHA! Thanks for the review!
lange )( I heart vampies too! HOO HA! Thanks dearie! And I haven't seen you around lately—you still alive??
Slick )( Oh yeah? Well … you … you … tu as un chat grand en ton pantalones! SO THERE! You have a big cat in your pants as well. Haha, in French one (aw… seems so long ago… wow! How time flies) my friend Jen would say "Mange mon pantalones!" )Eat my shorts(… sorry, just thought that was funny and had to share.
kimimay85 )( Hoo ha! I'm glad you're glad that PE is French. Heh. Oh, in this chappy, your name is Broadway. I didn't know what newsie name you wanted (I couldn't remember) and I know that you're studying for English right now (or you SHOULD BE—STUDY! LEARN THOSE MYTHOLOGICAL GODS AND GODDESSES! Heh.) or else I'd call you. But if you really hate it and want me to change it, just let me know and I'll re-upload this chappy with the changed name. ;D Thanks for the review kid!
misprint )( Whoa, everyone's doing the hustle lately! LOL! Mushy in a kilt… mmm, good pictures. Not that I particularly LIKE guys in skirts or anything… **Mondie averts eyes** Uh… yeah. Anyhow. Yes, I like my weird "vampires can still believe in God" thingy too… I figured why not go ahead and make this story ALLLLL mine **Mondie huggles story and Mushy Darling in the kilt all at once** Kristin remains ditsy in this chappy too… until she's evaporated… AHHH! No wielding Davey's Knife Of Doom at me!!! Heh. Thanks for the awesomey review darlink!
Hottie5Star )( Thanks! Ooooh, you better believe Mushy accepts his vampire fate… or else we wouldn't have much of a story. I've still gotta write until sometime after the year 2002. Yikes! LOL!
rumor )( Supervampire is a term completely coined and thought up by moi… don't ask where it came from. French class has some weird brainstorming side effects. Basically, I just wanted to keep Mushy in the sunlight cuz he's so purty with the sun in his eyes… Okay, I'll shush now. Troop Beverly Hills! Kimi and I watched that the other day, actually. It was quite humorous… I enjoyed it, anyhow. I love the word minions too! Playing in coffins?? Or at least underneath them?? That is the oddest childhood game I've heard of… **Mondie shudders** I'm not a fan of the coffins. Neither is Mushy Darling. He's still gonna "sleep" (even though he doesn't need to) in the lodging house. HAHA!
The Omniscient Bookseller )( Phew! Good thing you DIDN'T fall off! **Mondie hands Omni a seatbelt for the rest of the story** Hopefully we'll have some more turns that throw you off guard. Maybe. Prolly not. I think I'm a very transparent writer. Ah well. Why were there weird black birds in your backyard??? Sounds like something from an Alfred Hitchcock film… **ominous music** BTW, I think your name should REALLY by the "The Ominous Omniscient Bookseller". Just because I like the word ominous and it starts the same as "omniscient".
Shade of Temair )( THANKS DOLL! I wrote you three emails today. Heh. Anyhow. Thanks for the darling review, and here's your more times a trillion. :D Oh yeah, and you show up in this chappy too. Don't ask… it'll get ironed out soon. :D :D :D
Mega Pega-sus )( Peggy Sue! Thanks for the review! Where ya been, kid? Oh, I miss seein' ya up in the balcony… **Mondie waves to Mushy, who waves back from the balcony where he's been saving Peggy a seat** Haha, our band director last year was named Tony and we used to sing "Hey Tony! I like the things you do…" etc. to him. Yeah. That was a good story. Your Frosted Flakes comment made me think about that.
Gemini Kelly )( Yeah, I'm with you! Isn't it nice when people who like MINIMAL French (like me) write stories using MINIMAL French (like last chappy) so that those of us who like MINIMAL French (like me) can read it? Hahaha! How's the job going??? You pop up in this chappy, but don't worry, you'll be in the twenties… YAY PLOT TURNS, this is gonna be GOOOOOD! WHOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Alison224 )( Hey, thanks for all the reviews lately! I'll email you in a bit. :D Thanks for all the compliments, I'm blushing!!!!!!! LOLOLOL! You're wonderful.
Author's Note )( This chappy marks the entrance of Misprint, Gem, Shade, Kimi (as Broadway, which is a name subject to change… I'll let you know if it does), and myself (SELF-INSERTION! WHOO WHOO). Now, girlies who know where I'm taking this story, don't freak on me, cuz I'm still putting you where I said I would. I just came up with ANOTHER plot twist tonight in the bathtub. **YAY BATH AND BODY WORKS' WARM VANILLA SUGAR BATH BUBBLES BECAUSE THEY ARE BRAINSTORMING WORTHY!** And the other four girls belong to themselves, and I belong to me. And … uh … yeah. Thanks for all the reviews! You're too kind to me!
NDBT Chapter 3
Mush stared with a horrid fascination at the gash which penetrated Chalereux's pale neck. She'd etched it herself, using her fingernails as a razor blade. The dark crimson liquid which elegantly spilled forth matched the color of her dress perfectly. It seemed a mockery.
He felt so weak. But, he realized, not nearly as weak as she did. She was powerless now, and had to accept her fate. He felt so betraying that it should be at his hands.
"Drink," Chalereux urged, and yet Mush still balked. Suppose he didn't drink… couldn't Chalereux then live?
"Drink, drink, drink!" chanted Kristin. Her blonde hair flew in her face as she lifted up her arms to the moonlit night. She didn't seem to realize that when Mush drank Chalereux's blood, she would die—and so would Kristin. But then, Kristin wasn't the brightest of people, and she now began to sing a warbling, high-pitched song which seemed to Mush an ominous death sentence. "Oh, Mother Moon, bring me your riches," she sang.
Mush lowered his mouth slowly to the wound in Chalereux's neck, and she sighed in relief. It was then that he realized how much the blood pouring out of her had harmed her. He tried to gather the blood gently, and was surprised that he didn't reject the metallic taste.
"Bring me your coldness, your hunger, your strength!" sang Kristin. Mush began to drink more eagerly now, the blood losing the iron taste and becoming like nothing he'd ever drank before. It was delicious, it was satisfying, and his hunger only increased. He began to come unattached from Chalereux's mighty charm and trance.
"Mother Moon, hold me, and in your sweet trenches," sang Kristin, and Mush noticed that as he felt himself grow stronger, the two girls began to shimmer, to begin to lose their solid edges. He still sucked at the wound, wrapping his arms around Chalereux's body and angling her so that he'd get as much blood as possible. She began to tremble, and vibrate.
"Marry me to sadness, the hostility at great length!" Kristin finished at the same moment that Mush finished his feeding on Chalereux. She was dry of all blood. And the next thing he knew, he was alone. Neither Chalereux nor Kristin remained.
Mush climbed to his feet, feeling dizzy and excited. Everything was different now. He could hear the leaves whispering to one another in the trees, hear the sadness in the way the wind swirled, lonesome, around everyone. Everything seemed bright as day. But perhaps the most exciting thing he found were the two jutting fangs. Perfectly small and inconspicuous yet—he slid his tongue against one and cut it—incredibly strong. Laughing inwardly, he let the blood fill his mouth before swallowing it down again.
This was just another great adventure! But how alone he felt. He decided to allow himself one night and one day to experience vampirism by himself, then he'd create his minions. Delighted, he realized that by drinking the blood from Chalereux, he not only had his street wisdom, but all the wisdom learned by her, and the one who made her, and the vampire before him, and so on and so forth. His thoughts ricocheted through his brain, bouncing off one another. He grinned.
He could get used to this.
The Manhattan Lodging House for Newsgirls was unusually chaotic. The youngest girl, Mayhem, who was eight, dizzily spun in circles, her dirty arms flung out. Vanilla sang loudly while her best friend, Cornsilk, plunked out the melody on the broken guitar she cherished so much. Cougar and Seashell laughed and clapped along, and Chance, lounging on a bunk, shouted out lewd comments that she'd learned from the newsboys that afternoon. The other girls were dancing, lifting up their skirts dangerously high—past their knees—as if they were cabaret girls, or were animatedly telling gossip amongst themselves.
Only five girls were restrained, and this was perhaps the most abnormal sight of all; this particular group contained the girls usually the wildest: Misprint, Shade, Gemini, Broadway, and Mondie. The girls were gathered on Gemini's bunk, their dirty and smudged faces calmly solemn. There were factors for each girl which suggested her projected beauty, but from living on the streets for most of their lives, the girls were all emaciated, with jutting cheekbones, and were all under five feet tall.
"How much longa?" Mondie asked out of the corner of her mouth, her eyes widening as she sighed, impatient. Broadway, who alone saw the look of annoyance on her best friend's face, had to stifle her laughter.
"I dunno," Gemini said, just as inconspicuously. Her nose had begun to itch.
"Wha' do all a' dem talk abou' normally?" Broadway wondered, folding her hands in her lap.
"I t'ink serious stuff. Like, d'ya t'ink dat dere's uddah lives aftah death an' stuff," Gemini answered.
"I t'ink dere is," Shade said, eagerly putting in her two cents.
"I'm agreein' witcha, Shade," agreed Broadway. "I mean, say I'se supposed ta marry Spot Conlon, an' dere is a fire, an' I'm keeled. I t'ink dat I'se'll get boin again so dat I kin marry 'im in me next life."
The other four girls tried to stifle their giggles. Like there was any chance of any girl—least of all a Manhattan girl—stealing the heart of the impossible-to-impress Spot Conlon. And they would know, too—they'd tried to impress him many times, just to see if they could.
The girls lapsed into silence again, slight fidgeting occurring here and there.
"Dis is gettin' borin'," Mondie sighed.
"How much longa kin dis go on?" Shade wondered optimistically, smiling without really smiling.
Misprint pointedly raised her eyebrows. "Didja not jus' heah Vanilla go inta da hunnerd-an'-twennieth verse a' dat song?"
The five sighed in unison. They were only remaining quiet because the other girls were being loud. When Broadway had suggested becoming as dull as the other girls usually were, it had seemed a brilliant game. Thirty-five minutes later, it had lost most of its novelty, and they all wanted to join in the unexpected frivolities. Unfortunately, the five happened to be as stubborn as is ever come by, and none would give up until the other group of girls became quiet.
It was still fairly early in the evening, which was ultimately a female time to turn in; the boys' yells could still be heard from the street. The setting sun, still high in the sky, began to shine reds into the room.
Appropriately enough, Pinks ran into the room through the same window as the rosy rays. She was breathless and seemed quite distraught. "Bean's been taken to da Refuge!" she squawked. "Nobody else knows but me, I was da on'y one who was dere – 'e shoved me a'hind a trash crate so's I wouldn' be caught too." She buried her face in her hands. "I couldn' beah ta tell da boys…"
This was too much for Misprint to handle. Breaking her stony facade, she climbed hastily down from the bunk. "We'll tell 'em for ya, Pinks," she said eagerly. "Righ', goils?"
"Oh, yeah," Shade said, wondering what Misprint was up to. The other four girls joined her on the floor and left courtesy of the fire escape, to escape the wrath of the matron, who was incredibly strict and didn't allow young ladies roaming the streets.
Gemini was the last one to file out, and allowed herself a smirk as she passed the upset Pinks. "So wha' were ya doin' wit' Bean in an alley, anyway?" She quickly ducked out the window, Pinks' indignant squawks chasing her.
"Ah mean, really," sighed Shade as the five strolled down the street, feeling incredibly free in the mist of the evening. "Who'd wanna be all oveh Bean? 'Is name is Bean! An' if dat ain' enough, 'e's all scrawny an' dat hair a' his is always messy…" Mondie and Broadway noticed that they'd already passed several newsboys, and yet Misprint wasn't making any motions to stop. They exchanged glances.
" 'Ey," Misprint said, stopping dead in her tracks. The other four looked at her expectantly. "Wha' newsboy d'I look like?" she asked.
Shade's hand flew to her mouth. "Ah, hell," she cursed. "Sorry, Mis. Ah didn' mean ta insultcha…"
Misprint waved off the apology with the flick of her wrist. "Dat's not what I'se sayin', Shade. Remembeh how folks used ta ask if Bean an' I was bruddah an' sistah?" The girls nodded. It hadn't been that long ago. "Yeah, so I'se got an idea." Her eyes flickered with the intensity they often got, which meant there was great mischief about to happen.
"Wha' is it, Mis?" Mondie asked, a grin flitting across her fact as she anticipated Misprint's next move.
Misprint couldn't hide her grin. "We ain' gonna tell da newsboys dat Bean's in da Refuge. Ya got dat?" The girls nodded, still not quite catching on. "An' den I sneak in, steal some trousahs an' shoits an' stuff so I'se look like a boy, an' I be da foist goil ta spen' da night in da boys' lodgin' house!"
The other four girls gaped at her. Sleeping in the boys' lodging house? It was unheard of! It was insanity!
…It was a perfect example of Misprint.
"So I need ya's ta stan' guard fer me," she whispered. "I'se gonna sneak in t'rough da fire escape, an' hope ta heaven dat dere's some extry clothes in dere fer me. Now c'mon!" She led the way through the twisting streets, and when they reached the lodging house, she scrambled up the fire escape. She gave a salute when she climbed through the window. The other four girls could do nothing but laugh, and say a short silent prayer for Misprint's safety.
Because, let's face it, no girl wants to know what goes on in a boys' bunkroom.