"Shut ya damn mouth!" Whiskey whispered with a scowl at Pyro, who was still talking excitedly, and a tad bit drunkenly, to Fade as they neared the Harlem Newsboys Lodging House.
"Alright, christsake!" Pyro stated quietly as everyone watch Doc walked off towards the entrance of the lh. One of the lower level Harlem boys opened the door and she was halfway in when Trick threw his arm across the entrance and glowered. This display of dominance barely phased Doc, as she was used to dealing with his macho side due to all the times she had visited, and she amiably struck up a conversation with the hesitant Trick.
"Damn I wish I could heah what dat bastad's sayin'!" Bitter muttered, cursing softly to herself as she watched Trick regard Doc coldly, obviously suspicious over why she was there.
Whiskey's excitement over the upcoming brawl was getting the best of her and a huge grin was plastered across her face as the adrenaline started to course through her veins. "Alright Pyro, go work your magic!" she whispered eagerly, ushering Pyro to go cause a little 'distraction' that would catch the members off guard while Trick was absorbed with talking to Doc.
The short girl slinked off into the shadows and around the side of the lh until she was right under the half-open window to the common room. The girls all watched anxiously as Pyro fetched an empty coke bottle from the pile of trash nearby and proceeded to pour some of the liquor into it. She then lit a match and crept both the match and bottle quickly up to the side of the window; she only had one chance to get it right and the timing was going to have to be perfect. With a sadistic grin, she threw the lit match into the bottle and broke it over the inside ledge of the window.
"Dat's our cue!" Whiskey smiled, watching as a look of panic crossed over Trick's face as he rapidly retreated into the common room, where shrieks could be heard.
Diversion successfully created, Pyro rushed to join the rest of the Brooklyn girls who were already leaving their places in the shadows across the street and hurrying towards Doc, who was holding the door open for them. All armed with their choice weapon, or just good old fists, they filed in and began taking out newsies left and right.
Before Bitter could get in the door, Whiskey pulled her aside. "Doc needs one of them," she said, looking at her bulging pockets knowingly.
Bitter smirked and pulled up her shorts' leg, revealing a short knife with a huge handle. "I brought an extra, it's got a heavy handle 'cause I know she prefers dat," Bitter said.
Whiskey shook her head. "Damn, how many you got on you?" Whiskey asked.
Bitter smirked, pulling out a switchblade, flicking it open and dragging Whiskey through the door with her, straight into the action. "I got one of dese in each four a me pockets, knife attached ta me back, small dagger on me ankle, and my normal dagger," she stated, giving the knife to Whiskey, who nodded a 'thanks' and then quickly taking out a newsie who got in her way.
"Damn, I knew ya prepared foh rumbles, but seven different knives?" Whiskey stated, taking out her two switchblades and flicking them open.
"Let's just call it experience," Bitter said, shrugging, and quickly kneeing a boy in the stomach. He went down quickly but grabbed onto her leg and bit down hard. Bitter winced, but did not waste a second, stabbing the boy quickly in the shoulder, leaving the blade there, knowing that if she even tried to get it out, she would have a serious problem on her hands. The last thing she wanted to do was waste her time on a less skillful newsie.
She turned to Whiskey with a wide smile. "See? Experience," Bitter said, grabbing a switchblade from the next pocket over.
Whiskey rolled her eyes, "Whatevah. Keep safe. I'll see ya when dis is done, alley, one hour at most," she said.
Bitter nodded in agreement, "Yeah, but I'se suah I'll see ya before den," she said with a smirk, quickly disappearing into the crowd of fighting newsies.
Whiskey scanned the frenzied crowd, looking for Doc. She spotted her at the complete opposite side of the room, being boxed in by two small, but mean looking newsies. Calm as ever, Doc glared as the two slowly tried to corner her, throwing punches left and right, trying to keep her guard up. Whiskey weaved through the crowd aggressively, knocking one of her smaller opponents flat on his ass, but not bothering to keep him down there permanently. Her only objective was to reach Doc before those goons got a hold of her. Shit, I ain't gonna make it in time! God I hope she don't back up any quicka, Whiskey thought as she flipped the heavy handled dagger in her hand so that she was holding the flat of the blade between her thumb and finger.
She reeled back and violently flung it into the wall, a foot back from Doc's body. "Doc! Dag!" she cupped her hands, yelling over the din, a useless gesture considering Doc had already spun backwards and retrieved the dagger, after hearing it thud resonantly in the wood.
Knowing that Doc could fend for herself, Whiskey took out her own blades, her eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on the man she was looking for. Switch. Her hand rose subconsciously to the scab over her collar bone and she grimly began her way back across the small common room. Dat fucker's goin down.
She passed just about every one of the girls they had brought with them on the way over, her eyes only sparing them a single glance as she determinately trekked across the room. Winter was absorbed in a three on one battle, her wooden staff that doubled as a walking stick flying out in measured, precise strikes, leveling one of the newsies with a single blow. Her brown eyes glinted dangerously and the metal adornments in her hair made her look even more intimidating.
Turning her gaze back to Switch, she let out a low growl and walked at a quicker pace towards him, only to be halted by a long stream of fire, shooting by right in front of her path. She jumped back quickly, raising the twin switchblades defensively and slashing them in a cross motion, leaving a slash across the fleeing Harlem newsie's chest, whose clothes were already scorched as he dropped to the floor in agony. Whiskey smirked sadistically as she watched him squirm, and then kicked him twice to shut him up. Pyro rushed over, a flaming chair leg in one hand and the half used bottle of whiskey in the other. "Shit, Pyro! You tryin' ta singe da hair off a my head a somethin'?!"
Pyro guffawed. "Damn, you mean I missed?" she asked with a cryptic smile as she drunkenly weaved her way back through the crowd, using the chair leg to club anyone in her path.
"Heya sweets, didja miss me?" Whiskey asked as she came upon Switch and Spades duking it out. Spades was holding her own, although her face was in much worse shape than Switch's. Whiskey growled lowly. "He's mine Spades," she stated venomously, roughly pushing Spades out of the way and taking her place. Spades looked pissed off as she hit the wall from the push, and leaned against it for a moment, glaring at the two, who were circling each other, their blades glinting menacingly under the dim lights of the lodging house. With a final "fuck you," directed towards both Switch and Whiskey, Spades sucked the blood off of her split lip and went off to help out Fade who had a small group of newsies circling her, with only a pair of brass knuckles to protect her.
"Long time no see dollface!" Whiskey stated sarcastically as she lunged at him with both blades, causing him to jump backwards to avoid being speared. He spun at the last moment and sent his own blade down, aiming for Whiskey's shoulder, a wound she narrowly avoided.
"You'se lookin' gorgeous as always Whisk, although I do think I preferred ya wit dat pretty skirt a yours up around ya waist," Switch stated sarcastically after several more moments of hit and miss maneuvering, "Ya know, we can always finish up what we started back dere in da alley, I'd be more den happy ta make ya scream my name." The comment caught her off guard and her face flushed at the statements. Lunging violently at him once more she felt the error in her move almost instantly, but there was no way she could have prevented what was to come.
Switch snatched one of Pyro's discarded chair legs from its position on the table behind him and swung it like a club at Whiskey's outstretched daggers. One of the blades twisted backwards, earning her a couple of bloody knicks while the other was knocked clean out of her hand, skidding halfway across the room. She stumbled off balance, her hands aching all over. Stepping backwards at the force of the blow, a look of shock characterized her features as Switch grabbed on to a lock of her hair and savagely cut it off so it lay somewhere around her chin rather than at her shoulders as she switched the blade from her injured hand to the unwounded one. "Now at least it's a fair fight," he stated, twirling the lock around in his fingers, then depositing it in his front pocket dramatically.
"You'll pay foh dat, rat bastad sonnova whorin' bitch," she cursed vehemently, raising her hand to the space where her lock used to be, leaving a trail of blood in its wake, as she avoided his knife and kicked him swiftly in the knee, using the injured hand to punch him square across the face. "Yes, you'll pay."
Meanwhile, Bitter was making her way around the lodging house, trying to find Trick, who seemed to have disappeared out of thin air. She had already used up all of her switchblades, some broken, some stuck in the limbs of passed out newsies. She worked through a crowd of boys rushing at her with her fists, only retrieving the knife on her back when two flicked out blades of their own.
She had no problem taking them out and scanned the room for Trick again. She was set on getting him back for putting her in a bed for a week. She ducked, just missing the back swing of Winter's wooden staff, slipping around a crowd that Fade and Spades had taken on diligently. She spotted her opponent lunging at a girl who had her back to Bitter.
She scurried towards the pair, her fellow newsgirl obviously in trouble. Rook stumbled backwards drunkenly, baring her teeth at Trick, her fists ready, but no match for his blade. Bitter watched as Trick caught her under the chin with his blade and heard Rook yelp, making Bitter only pick up her pace. A tall muscular boy stepped in front of her and Bitter glared at him, swiping him across the arm, hoping it would make it move aside. She brushed past him, but he caught her arm and pulled her close to him, making her drop her knife as he twisted her arm, "You're gonna pay goily," he said roughly.
Bitter narrowed her eyes, looking back at Rook who was helplessly being cornered by Trick. "A little help?" she yelled. Pyro smiled and scorched the top of his head with her makeshift flamethrower. The goon dropped her and Bitter yelled a 'thanks' before running off to help Rook.
Bitter pulled out her dagger and kissed it gently as she approached Trick from behind. She tapped him on the shoulder. "Miss me?" she asked with a smile.
He turned around slowly, smiling viciously at her. "Oh very much, would ya like ta dance tonight me dear?" he asked, cocking his knife as they began to circle.
Bitter smiled, "I hope you can keep up," she said, nodding for Rook to leave. Rook nodded a quick thank you and ran off, leaving them to fight on their own.
"Oh, I think I will be," he said, eyes flickering as he saw his right hand man down on the ground. Whiskey was standing over him, kicking him hard over and over.
Bitter looked over at Whiskey and smiled, "Looks as though Whiskey got her revenge," she said.
Trick glared icily at her. "Don't worry my dear, ya won't be getting' yer victory tonight. I'll make suah of dat," he said, lunging at her. She dodged it easily and caught him on the cheek. He licked the blood away, his eyes watching her body as she moved around.
She faked a lunge and then went to lunge for his other side. He predicted the move easily and grabbed her fighting arm, twisting her wrist back while taking the dagger away from her. He held her in front of him, arms locked behind her so she could not move as he admired the dagger. "This is quite a piece of work," he said, admiring it.
She snarled at him, "It's done many a work on other people too," she said, struggling under his hold.
He smiled, pressing the dagger up against her neck. "It fits you, and your body," he said, moving his other hand around her body and feeling slowly up her shirt.
She snarled, "Bastard," she muttered, digging her elbow hard into his stomach, making him release one of her arms. She twirled around and punched him hard across the face, grabbing her dagger from his hand and backing up a few steps.
He laughed, "Aw, I thought you'd like dat," he said with a laugh, flicking out his blade again, "Afta all, you'se seemed willin' a week ago."
"Don't flatta yerself!" Bitter stated, motioning for him to lunge and he did, missing her purposely and catching her on the shoulder blade. She punched his knife away as he cut her shoulder open, cutting her hand open too as it blazed up against the blade of the knife, but it was worth the pain to watch the knife fly across the floor of the room.
Trick's blue eyes iced over as he watched the knife disappear under the crowd of people fighting. She smiled as she watched his eyes follow after the blade and smirked. "Well, well," she said, cocking her dagger and stepping towards him.
He did not wait a second more, switching out another blade and dodging her lunge, turning around and pressing her up against the wall, punching her hard across the face, making her cough up blood.
"Well, well," he said, mocking her, cocking his knife as he slammed her arm against the wall, trying to make her drop the dagger.
She glared at him, keeping a tight grip on the dagger. He twisted her wrist and pushed his face up to hers. "Wouldn't want me ta break yer fightin' arm would ya?" he asked.
Before she said a word, there was a loud crack as Winter bashed Trick hard across the back of his head with her wooden staff, knocking him to the ground unconscious. Bitter smiled and whispered a quick "thank you," stepping away before Winter could act on the concerned look she was holding towards Bitter.
She made her way across the room, dodging the various unconscious bodies lying on the ground. She picked up Pyro on the way, who was passed out on the floor, most likely from too much alcohol, seeing as she was not harmed in any way. Bitter set her down on the ground and leaned down, trying to wake her up, but soon gave up.
Bitter sat down across from her, watching the door and lit up a cigarette, smoking as she waited for the others to amble out into the alley.
Whiskey surveyed the destruction. Well, at least Trick's reign a terror's ovah fer now... she thought as she picked up the discarded whiskey bottle Pyro had been using. She ambled out into the alley, sipping what was left of the amber liquid and pouring just a little on her slashed up hand, feeling the burn in her chest coupled with the burn of her hand. She limped down the alley to where Bitter was sitting and passed off the remainder of the liquor to the blond haired girl.
Doc was the next to exit, not a scratch on her, supporting a weakened Rook and followed by Spades and Fade congratulating each other playfully on their performances. Whiskey ripped the tail of her white shirt off and wrapped it tightly across her hand, bandaging the wound.
"I think we'se bettah get ta Manhattan," Bitter stated after a couple of moments of silence. "We'se were lucky dat dere goils was out foh a night on da town, but I don't think dat we should push dat luck by hangin' round heah ta see if dey toin up anytime soon."
A murmur of agreement washed over the small crowd as they slinked off into the shadows, a mess of cuts, bruises, and blood, on their way back to Manhattan. Doc woke Pyro up with some smelling salts and she stumbled out of Harlem with the rest of the girls, still in a drunken swagger.