Let us see. Who do I love today??
I love:
Ershey-wershey... Your reviews always make me so happy, because I have such respect for you and your writing. Thank you!
Keza... The same goes for you as with Ershey. Totally the best criticism I've ever received, and I really appreciate it, because when I go back and edit next time, I know what to work on. I'm going to start posting another fic I've started to write (lol, three years more recent than this one!), and I would love to know what you think of the writing compared to Authority... Okay, well, really I just love reviews, but it would be cool to know what you thought. :) Thanks!
-----
Callie spent the entire next morning in her bed, as uncomfortable as it was, until she finally ventured to look at her reflection in the makeshift mirror. She was as bruised and colorful as she felt. It took all of her resolve not to climb back into bed. Somehow she managed to put her hair, which was wildly tangled because of the night before, into her standard double braid. She walked out of the warehouse. Squinting in the bright light, she made her way to Brooklyn, trying to ignore her pounding headache.
Before the problem with Spot, she had worked the Brooklyn streets. A master con artist, Callie made her money on three corners while avoiding the bulls. After Spot and Callie's 'arrangement', Callie went to Manhattan to play her cards.
She reached her favorite and most productive corner. Callie went directly to the alley where she stored her barrels that posed as a table and chair. She stayed at the alley opening, relishing the shade of it. Squinting, she moved back out into the sunlight to set up.
"You look like you had a rough night," mocked a voice no longer full of menace. Callie turned around to see a battered Spot.
"You don't look so hot either." She grinned, studying her handiwork. "So what are you botherin' me for?" she asked playfully, wary of the real reason he was there.
"Well, I was just gonna tell Cards about the big pokah game in Manhattan. Figured that this famous card shark might like some real competition. My boys said he was down here, but instead of findin' Cards, I find you."
Callie smirked. "So the famous Spot Conlon doesn't know everything. Amazing."
"Actually, the famous Spot Conlon does know now. I don't understand why though," he replied.
"You see, I was right. It is all about the power—even names."
"But why Callie?"
"It's my name, my real name." Callie paused. "How'd you know?"
"I know a lot." Spot glared as Callie rolled her eyes. "We knew about you back when you came to New York an' joined the warehouse fight, but we always figured Crash was in charge."
A confused look flickered across Callie's face, but she quickly brushed it aside. "So you knew me as Cards?"
Spot grinned and nodded. "Yeah."
"Then why they confusion at the warehouse? I told you not to come, but you came anyway. Why risk a fight if you knew?"
"Why risk a fight? You're a scrawny little girl with a big mouth. You expected me take you seriously?" Callie fumed and opened her mouth, ready to snap back with a witty retort but Spot continued before she could. "I sent someone down to check you out, but we all thought Crash was in charge."
Callie calmed a little and smirked proudly. "Yeah, that's what it's s'posed to look like."
"Well, if Crash was in charge, you had no real authority. Why would I listen to you?
"Who did you send to check up on me?"
"Why do you want to know?" he replied.
"I think I have a right to know."
Spot sighed and stubbed his cigarette out. "Riley," he said.
"The prissy blonde?"
"Yeah, the prissy blonde, but she's smarter than you might think. She said you an' Crash were close but you did a pretty damn good job keepin' her from finding anything else out."
"Wheat was always a sucker for blondes," she muttered bitterly.
Spot watched as Callie fiddled with her worn out cards, lost in her own mind. "Are you any good?"
"What?" she asked, confused. Spot pointed at the cards in her hands. "Oh, right." She grinned. "I'm decent, you wanna play a hand?"
"Nah, the deck's stacked." Callie watched helplessly as some of her potential customers walked away. Spot grinned maliciously.
"What did you go and do that for? I can take you, ya know." Callie stood up to accentuate her words.
"Come on then!" Spot raised his fists, still grinning. He knew that both of them had had enough fighting the previous night; he just wanted Callie to back down first.
"No, not today. Maybe tomorrow," she answered reluctantly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
Spot grinned, knowing he'd won. "So you're comin' tonight?"
"Yeah. Race already told me 'bout it."
Spot tipped his hat. "See ya tonight then."
"It's always about power, Spot, even names," she called after him.
Spot smirked at her over his shoulder. "What? So the name Spot don't fill ya with fear?"
Callie laughed at his retreating figure.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Callie snuffed out the cigarette that she had been smoking outside the Manhattan newsies' lodging house. She had made enough that day to buy cigarettes, dinner, and manage to have more than enough for poker. The sun had already set and some of the oil lamps were being lit. With a last glance around, Callie went into the building followed closely by Wheat. Wheat was one of Callie's constant reminders of her past. He, like she, had grown up in the Midwest. Wheat was a farmer boy though, thus his name.
Callie had brought Wheat along because he was the only one of her newsies not busy with a girl that particular night. Callie didn't mess around in her boys' lives, and they didn't mess with hers. Girls, however, were not allowed to hang around her warehouse, unless they had permission from Callie herself.
Wheat, the loner, kept close to Callie inside the house. In the lobby she cast a curious eye around the room. It was noisy; they were obviously late. Kloppman, the man who cared for the newsboys' house, rolled his eyes and motioned towards the stairs. She smiled at him and hurried up the stairs. There, she was met by a stuffy crowded room. Wheat left her side and joined the closest table with Kid Blink, Mush, and Dutchy. Callie pushed her way through the boys toward the table where Racetrack, Jack, and a few others were seated. A few of the boys she passed stared at her, being the only girl. Callie just shrugged off the looks. She was here to play poker.
"Well look what the cat drug in. I see you took to colorin' your face, Cards." Race joked. "I never figured you as a girl who would go for that."
Callie laughed. "If ya don't watch your mouth, we could work on your face too." Callie sat. "So what are we playin'?"
"Poker. Five-card draw. Not too high on the bettin' yet. We gotta wait for Brooklyn to get here first."
Callie quirked her eyebrow, and a few newsies cast an awkward worried glance at her.
"So we gotta wait for the master himself?" she drawled.
"You're new at our poker games. Ya don't know the rules yet. Once they gets here, the real games begin. It just works that way. We don't ask." Race shrugged, not really caring.
After half an hour of "light" betting, Spot and some of his Brooklyn newsies showed up. A few snide remarks were exchanged between Callie and he, but after a few minutes, they settled down to really play. It went on with outrageous money stakes and the trading of chores for hours. In the wee hours of the morning, only a few of the tougher newsies were left.
Spot looked at his hand for a minute before tossing his coins in the pile. "I'll raise ya a bet, Cards." He stared straight at her with his never-fading smirk. "If I win this here hand, you have to wear your hair down and a dress to the party on Saturday."
Callie's smile faded. A dress. Callie hadn't worn a dress since she was about three. She despised the ugly things. Dresses didn't allow girls to run from the bulls. Pants were more of a convenience. The fighter in Callie didn't want to back down so hastily she replied. "Okay, but if I win, you wear the dress." She lifted an eyebrow at him, daring him to back down.
Unfortunately for Callie, Spot didn't back down but spit in his hand. Feeling beaten, even though the hand had not been played out, she did the same. The two shook and Callie glared. Her hand wasn't that great. She had two pair, Kings and eights. Race called, and they all lay down their cards. Just as she had suspected, Spot won. He had somehow managed to get a full house. The guys grinned, knowing that Callie would hate wearing the dress. Callie glared at the table, not ready to acknowledge her loss.
Spot slapped her back, causing her to look up. "I guess we'll be seeing you in that dress after all. Jack's girl can fix ya up real nice." He laughed. "And no gettin' out of it." He said the last bit staring straight into her eyes.
Callie rolled her eyes. "I don't go back on bets. Now tell me when an' where."
"Saturday, around sunset, at Medda's." Callie nodded curtly, accepting Race's answer.
"I think Wheat and I should best be goin' before I get myself into more dresses." She stood. "I do, howevah, have most of your money." She grinned as she pocketed her cash. Callie turned and gathered Wheat from where he sat on a corner bunk talking softly with the girl Callie now knew as Riley. Good-byes were said and the Five Points duo left.
I love:
Ershey-wershey... Your reviews always make me so happy, because I have such respect for you and your writing. Thank you!
Keza... The same goes for you as with Ershey. Totally the best criticism I've ever received, and I really appreciate it, because when I go back and edit next time, I know what to work on. I'm going to start posting another fic I've started to write (lol, three years more recent than this one!), and I would love to know what you think of the writing compared to Authority... Okay, well, really I just love reviews, but it would be cool to know what you thought. :) Thanks!
-----
Callie spent the entire next morning in her bed, as uncomfortable as it was, until she finally ventured to look at her reflection in the makeshift mirror. She was as bruised and colorful as she felt. It took all of her resolve not to climb back into bed. Somehow she managed to put her hair, which was wildly tangled because of the night before, into her standard double braid. She walked out of the warehouse. Squinting in the bright light, she made her way to Brooklyn, trying to ignore her pounding headache.
Before the problem with Spot, she had worked the Brooklyn streets. A master con artist, Callie made her money on three corners while avoiding the bulls. After Spot and Callie's 'arrangement', Callie went to Manhattan to play her cards.
She reached her favorite and most productive corner. Callie went directly to the alley where she stored her barrels that posed as a table and chair. She stayed at the alley opening, relishing the shade of it. Squinting, she moved back out into the sunlight to set up.
"You look like you had a rough night," mocked a voice no longer full of menace. Callie turned around to see a battered Spot.
"You don't look so hot either." She grinned, studying her handiwork. "So what are you botherin' me for?" she asked playfully, wary of the real reason he was there.
"Well, I was just gonna tell Cards about the big pokah game in Manhattan. Figured that this famous card shark might like some real competition. My boys said he was down here, but instead of findin' Cards, I find you."
Callie smirked. "So the famous Spot Conlon doesn't know everything. Amazing."
"Actually, the famous Spot Conlon does know now. I don't understand why though," he replied.
"You see, I was right. It is all about the power—even names."
"But why Callie?"
"It's my name, my real name." Callie paused. "How'd you know?"
"I know a lot." Spot glared as Callie rolled her eyes. "We knew about you back when you came to New York an' joined the warehouse fight, but we always figured Crash was in charge."
A confused look flickered across Callie's face, but she quickly brushed it aside. "So you knew me as Cards?"
Spot grinned and nodded. "Yeah."
"Then why they confusion at the warehouse? I told you not to come, but you came anyway. Why risk a fight if you knew?"
"Why risk a fight? You're a scrawny little girl with a big mouth. You expected me take you seriously?" Callie fumed and opened her mouth, ready to snap back with a witty retort but Spot continued before she could. "I sent someone down to check you out, but we all thought Crash was in charge."
Callie calmed a little and smirked proudly. "Yeah, that's what it's s'posed to look like."
"Well, if Crash was in charge, you had no real authority. Why would I listen to you?
"Who did you send to check up on me?"
"Why do you want to know?" he replied.
"I think I have a right to know."
Spot sighed and stubbed his cigarette out. "Riley," he said.
"The prissy blonde?"
"Yeah, the prissy blonde, but she's smarter than you might think. She said you an' Crash were close but you did a pretty damn good job keepin' her from finding anything else out."
"Wheat was always a sucker for blondes," she muttered bitterly.
Spot watched as Callie fiddled with her worn out cards, lost in her own mind. "Are you any good?"
"What?" she asked, confused. Spot pointed at the cards in her hands. "Oh, right." She grinned. "I'm decent, you wanna play a hand?"
"Nah, the deck's stacked." Callie watched helplessly as some of her potential customers walked away. Spot grinned maliciously.
"What did you go and do that for? I can take you, ya know." Callie stood up to accentuate her words.
"Come on then!" Spot raised his fists, still grinning. He knew that both of them had had enough fighting the previous night; he just wanted Callie to back down first.
"No, not today. Maybe tomorrow," she answered reluctantly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
Spot grinned, knowing he'd won. "So you're comin' tonight?"
"Yeah. Race already told me 'bout it."
Spot tipped his hat. "See ya tonight then."
"It's always about power, Spot, even names," she called after him.
Spot smirked at her over his shoulder. "What? So the name Spot don't fill ya with fear?"
Callie laughed at his retreating figure.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Callie snuffed out the cigarette that she had been smoking outside the Manhattan newsies' lodging house. She had made enough that day to buy cigarettes, dinner, and manage to have more than enough for poker. The sun had already set and some of the oil lamps were being lit. With a last glance around, Callie went into the building followed closely by Wheat. Wheat was one of Callie's constant reminders of her past. He, like she, had grown up in the Midwest. Wheat was a farmer boy though, thus his name.
Callie had brought Wheat along because he was the only one of her newsies not busy with a girl that particular night. Callie didn't mess around in her boys' lives, and they didn't mess with hers. Girls, however, were not allowed to hang around her warehouse, unless they had permission from Callie herself.
Wheat, the loner, kept close to Callie inside the house. In the lobby she cast a curious eye around the room. It was noisy; they were obviously late. Kloppman, the man who cared for the newsboys' house, rolled his eyes and motioned towards the stairs. She smiled at him and hurried up the stairs. There, she was met by a stuffy crowded room. Wheat left her side and joined the closest table with Kid Blink, Mush, and Dutchy. Callie pushed her way through the boys toward the table where Racetrack, Jack, and a few others were seated. A few of the boys she passed stared at her, being the only girl. Callie just shrugged off the looks. She was here to play poker.
"Well look what the cat drug in. I see you took to colorin' your face, Cards." Race joked. "I never figured you as a girl who would go for that."
Callie laughed. "If ya don't watch your mouth, we could work on your face too." Callie sat. "So what are we playin'?"
"Poker. Five-card draw. Not too high on the bettin' yet. We gotta wait for Brooklyn to get here first."
Callie quirked her eyebrow, and a few newsies cast an awkward worried glance at her.
"So we gotta wait for the master himself?" she drawled.
"You're new at our poker games. Ya don't know the rules yet. Once they gets here, the real games begin. It just works that way. We don't ask." Race shrugged, not really caring.
After half an hour of "light" betting, Spot and some of his Brooklyn newsies showed up. A few snide remarks were exchanged between Callie and he, but after a few minutes, they settled down to really play. It went on with outrageous money stakes and the trading of chores for hours. In the wee hours of the morning, only a few of the tougher newsies were left.
Spot looked at his hand for a minute before tossing his coins in the pile. "I'll raise ya a bet, Cards." He stared straight at her with his never-fading smirk. "If I win this here hand, you have to wear your hair down and a dress to the party on Saturday."
Callie's smile faded. A dress. Callie hadn't worn a dress since she was about three. She despised the ugly things. Dresses didn't allow girls to run from the bulls. Pants were more of a convenience. The fighter in Callie didn't want to back down so hastily she replied. "Okay, but if I win, you wear the dress." She lifted an eyebrow at him, daring him to back down.
Unfortunately for Callie, Spot didn't back down but spit in his hand. Feeling beaten, even though the hand had not been played out, she did the same. The two shook and Callie glared. Her hand wasn't that great. She had two pair, Kings and eights. Race called, and they all lay down their cards. Just as she had suspected, Spot won. He had somehow managed to get a full house. The guys grinned, knowing that Callie would hate wearing the dress. Callie glared at the table, not ready to acknowledge her loss.
Spot slapped her back, causing her to look up. "I guess we'll be seeing you in that dress after all. Jack's girl can fix ya up real nice." He laughed. "And no gettin' out of it." He said the last bit staring straight into her eyes.
Callie rolled her eyes. "I don't go back on bets. Now tell me when an' where."
"Saturday, around sunset, at Medda's." Callie nodded curtly, accepting Race's answer.
"I think Wheat and I should best be goin' before I get myself into more dresses." She stood. "I do, howevah, have most of your money." She grinned as she pocketed her cash. Callie turned and gathered Wheat from where he sat on a corner bunk talking softly with the girl Callie now knew as Riley. Good-byes were said and the Five Points duo left.
