A/N – I don't own Emotions or Wolf they are owned by Emotions. Nor do I own Pokey, she is owned by Pokey7, or Joaquin and Jaws they are owned by Jocelyn Padoga and lastly I don't own Spitball she is owned by My Dog Ate My Penname.
Newsies: Ahem? ::clears throats::
Oh yeah and I suppose I don't own them either. Disney does. – A/N
Pistol fidgeted on her chair and gently traced a gouge on the table's surface with a dirty finger. She was already tired of listening to the boys playing at being hardened men, trying to strike deals on their alliances and territories. Spot was as usual arrogant and unwilling to give into anything that Hebrew suggested. Hebrew wanted the same rights as the Manhattan boys, for his Newsies to be able to go into Brooklyn without getting harassed but Spot would have none of it.
"Queens and Manhattan ain't the same Hebrew," Spot said coldly, tapping ash from a cigarette that he used to point in Hebrew's direction.
"It took us a long time to get where we are with Brooklyn, Hebrew. You can't just all of a sudden demand the same respect that took us years to get." Blink was more subtle and placating. Mush nodded his face earnest.
Spot rolled his eyes, an action which didn't go unnoticed. Hebrew's eyes narrowed and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Spot did the same and the temperature in the room went down a few degrees. Pistol noticed a few of the Queens' boys cracking their knuckles and shifting.
Finally Hebrew gave them a small, creepy smile and stood up, clapping his hands together. The Manhattan and Brooklyn newsies stood up along with him.
"I can see that we're going to make no progress here today gentlemen. Just take my ideas and think them over. I'll send runners out to you around the end of the week to arrange another meeting." With that he spit into his hand and shook with Blink, Mush, and Spot. Spot seemed reluctant to do so, but he clenched his jaw and did it nevertheless. There was no love lost between Brooklyn and Queens, and Pistol had the feeling that it would always be that way.
On the way out the door, Pistol noticed Blink eyeing Hebrew's sister Ruth like he wanted to stop and talk to her. Pausing, he whispered something into her ear which made her cock her head and look at him for a few moments before giving him a small smile. Blink jammed his hands into his pockets and turned away after smiling back, his face flushing red.
Pistol rolled her eyes and quickly left the lodging house, the tips of her ears turning crimson with anger. She was confused as to why Blink paying attention to another girl made her so mad, and that made her even more furious. Kicking a stone as hard as she could, she jumped in shock when a hand clamped down onto her shoulder.
Looking up, she grinned when she saw who it was. Two Brooklyn newsies stood with the rest of the girls who had waited outside. The wrist that the hand was attached to had a tattoo adorning it; a Y overlapping an N.
"Where's the fire Pistol?"
"Hi Emotions, Hey Wolf." Emotions tucked a strand of her auburn hair behind one of her ears and crossed her arms. She was wearing black pants, a long-sleeved blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a black cabby hat was on her head. Hazel eyes that were more on the green side winked merrily at Pistol.
Emotions was one of Pistol's favorite Brooklyn girls. She was naturally just as hyper and energetic as Pistol, and the two together could make people want to pull their hair out in frustration when they got each other going. Wolf, Emotions' boyfriend had his arm slung around her shoulder.
He was tall; Pistol had to crane her neck up when she looked at him. He had tanned, dusky skin like Mush with dark brown, slightly curly hair. A scar from a fight with Spot ran from the bottom of his left ear alongside his jaw. But it was Wolf's eyes that were the most noticeable, one being dark blue, and the other a light green.
Pistol reached up and flicked the top hat that sat jauntily on his head. He blinked at her and quickly put up a hand to stop it from falling off before cracking a grin and shaking a finger at her warningly. Wolf wore black pants and an off-white shirt unbuttoned slightly so that you could see the undershirt underneath. He also wore a long reddish-black trench coat covered with patches that he had found in an alley along with the top hat.
Spot joined them then, his blue eyes iced over with anger from the meeting. He gave Wolf a hard glower before lighting a cigarette. Wolf and Spot used to fight like dogs over a soup bone but had become quite close after Spot became leader of Brooklyn. Although Riddle was set to become the leader after Spot stepped down, everyone knew that Spot counted Wolf as his other right hand man.
Wolf just watched Spot calmly, his odd eyes tinged with humor. Pistol waited for the usual sarcastic crack to spill forth from his mouth, but for some reason Wolf seemed to gauge Spot's mood just right and held his tongue.
"A little late, aren't ya?" Spot spat flecks of tobacco from his tongue and tapped his foot, his jaw squared. Wolf shrugged serenely and Emotions stepped away, toying with a silver necklace around her neck.
"We're here ain't we?"
"AFTER the meeting has ENDED."
"Ahhh yes but we still came." Spot let out a hiss of exasperation and stalked ahead, his cane swinging from his belt loop looking like an alley cat lashing his tail in fury. Pistol snorted with laughter, and Emotions hunched her shoulders up and covered her mouth.
"Awww everyone picks on Spotty too much," she said with a grin, wrinkling up her freckled nose. Pistol looked after Spot and placed a hand to her heart looking sad before slapping her knee and cracking up. Wolf finally grinned, and let loose a laugh.
"I like the boy but he sure wears his pants pulled up his arse a bit much. Too high-strung, anger problems as well." Laughing, the trio walked down the alley that led them out of Queens, Pistol pointedly ignoring Blink when he walked up alongside her. Casting her a curious glance, he just shook his head and fell back. Both Emotions and Wolf gave her looks that she ignored as well.
"Are you okay? Did he do something?" Pistol cracked a grin at the sight of Emotions instantly ready to go jump on Blink and give him a talking to amongst other things, her fists were already clenched. Shaking her head, she hummed tunelessly under her breath until Wolf snapped his fingers in front of her face.
"The lady asked you a question, are you okay kid?" Pistol looked up at them both. They had worried looks on their faces and she dredged up another smile and did a goofy dance step.
"Of course I'm okay, I'm always okay." Grabbing Emotions' hand she whirled her around in a lively jig and the two girls danced up the alley giggling and singing.
Later that night, Pistol lay on her bunk in the Manhattan Lodging House watching the rest of the girls get ready to go to Medda's. She didn't feel as connected to this group of girls as she had when Bourbon and Misery lived there. She liked them well enough, but she wasn't close to any of them. Sometimes she mulled over the idea of going to live in Brooklyn. She knew Spot would take her in a heartbeat.
Getting up, she trudged down to the lobby where Jack sat at Kloppman's old desk, his tongue sticking out, brow furrowed in concentration. She saw him adding figures on the ledger, using his fingers to help him count. Shaking her head and smiling fondly, she walked up to him and hoisted herself up onto the desk, her legs hanging down.
"Hey Jacky-boy, whatcha doin'?" Jack looking thankful for the interruption pushed the book away and dropped the pencil alongside it.
"Didn't I tell ya not to call me that?" Pistol rolled her eyes and tried to look serious.
"Sorry MISTER Kelly. What are ya doin' MISTER Kelly?" Jack laughed and swatted at her head, making her duck and yelp before giving him a wet willie.
"Awww…Gross Pistol!" Making a face, he swiped at his ear with his sleeve and rubbed it furiously. Satisfied that all her spit was gone, he leaned back in his chair.
"Call me Jack, you little street rat. I'm trying to finish these figures, but it's hard when I never went to school. I mean they taught me some stuff in the orphanage but Geez…"
Pistol had had some education so she went over his math and fixed some of his mistakes. He thanked her, and she tried not to grind her teeth when she saw Blink standing next to her.
"Why are you acting like this?" Pistol dropped off of the desk to her feet and gave him an unreadable look.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Taking a cigarette she had tucked into the band of her bowler hat, she went outside feeling the stares of both boys burning into her back. She almost took out David and Les; David's little brother, who were walking up the steps of the lodging house. Les, a skinny boy with messy brown hair and a thin, pale face poked at Pistol with his wooden sword. Pistol fell to the ground, pretending to die.
Les gave a delighted laugh and then ran inside to find the rest of the smaller boys. Pistol nodded at David, who then walked inside to find Jack and the other older boys. She lit her cigarette and stood outside, smoking by herself.
Soon the older kids came trickling out in groups of two or three. Together they walked to Medda's, causing their usual ruckus on the streets of Manhattan. The high society mostly ignored them or cast them looks of disgust, but there were other kids out and about who occasionally fell in with the group or shouted greetings.
Pistol swaggered alongside Bumlets, Pie Eater, and Snoddy. Spitball had joined the gang and was working on irritating Skittery. Skittery, unusually cheery this evening finally put Spitball in a headlock and rubbed her head hard with a fist. Spitball keeled back and glared at him before sticking her tongue out.
"Ya know if I hadn't known ya for years I swear I'd knock yer block off." Skittery rolled his eyes and cracked a smile, brushing his brown hair out of his eyes.
"Whatever Spitball ya know ya love me." Spitball, normally able to respond to anything with a wisecrack opened her mouth and then closed it again just as swiftly. She had no response to that, and her cheeks flamed. Grabbing a hold of one of her long black curls, she yanked on it and then fled to the front of the pack, almost tripping Swifty and Jake on her way.
"You shouldn't pick on the females, it makes them all cranky-like," Pistol stated, blowing a smoke ring. Suddenly someone lifted her up and twirled her around, and she dropped her cigarette, hollering. When she was put down, she whirled to find herself looking at a grinning Racetrack.
"Race!" she hugged him fiercely and then let out a shout of joy to see Misery walking up the sidewalk behind him. Charging her, she almost knocked the petite girl flat on her behind as she tackled her. Misery steadied herself, laughing. Winking a hazel eye at the younger girl, she lit a cigarette and tucked a hand into the pocket of her black trousers.
She wore a cranberry colored long sleeved shirt, and a vest. It was funny to see her dressing the same as the newsies although she was a mother now and stayed at home to take care of her son Joshua. Racetrack worked AT the racetrack now, as a bookie.
"What's shakin' kid?" Racetrack wore his usual getup, his checkered vest, cabbie hat, black pants and a white shirt that needed to be cleaned and mended. Putting his arm around Misery's waist, they walked next to Pistol until they reached Medda's.
Once inside, the Manhattan kids were surprised to see groups of newsies from all over the city like there had been at their rallies during the strike. Although the place was nowhere near as crowded, there were still more than the normal amount of kids milling around. Spot was there, residing at the cluster of tables in the center of the room in front of the stage. Most of the kids occupied the balcony seats. There were adults there as well, mostly men.
Spot spied Misery and Racetrack and his jaw tightened. Pistol saw him put his attention onto the stage. The lights dimmed as the Manhattan kids took their seats. Music began to play, a lively number as a line of chorus girls danced out onto the stage. The newsies whistled and hollered at the girls, and they grew louder as one of them came forward.
She wore a green costume that matched her eyes, and her long curly hair that was the color of chocolate was piled on top of her head. When she began to sing, a rousing song about a drunken night the newsies joined in. Joaquin put his fingers into his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. The girl singing was his sister, Jocelyn or more commonly known as Jaws.
Pistol let her gaze wander around the room and the tables. Mush was watching Jaws with a rapt expression which caused her to stifle a chuckle. Pokey and Bourbon were giggling behind their hands at some joke that Riddle had told. Emotions and Wolf were having a discussion about some inside thing. Blink was sitting at a table with Ruth…
Pistol's eyes bulged and she felt her temper rising. Blink was sitting with RUTH?! Slamming her hand down, she shakily lit up a cigarette. It was true, the pair were sitting together, glasses of ale in front of them, talking. Ruth was acting quite enamored with Blink, fluttering her eyelashes and twirling a lock of her hair in between slender fingers. When Ruth put a hand out and began to rub Blink's arm, Pistol stood up.
"What's wrong?" Misery was looking up at her, her eyes worried. She whispered something to Racetrack and grabbing a hold of Pistol's sleeve, walked the girl outside. The night air was cool, and Pistol was glad of it, for it felt good on her flushed cheeks. Misery crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Like I said, what's wrong?" Pistol choked out a laugh and horrified, felt tears prick her eyes. Raising her hands in a helpless gesture, she finally looked at Misery.
"I don't even know where to begin…" Misery brushed a strand of hair out of Pistol's face and put a hand on her shoulder.
"From the beginning I think would be a help."
"Okay, but not here. Let's go to the park." Misery went inside to tell Racetrack where they were going, and then the two girls walked off, Pistol feeling a leaden weight in her gut as they headed towards the park. She didn't like talking about her feelings, but Misery was going to leave her no choice. This was something that would have to be dealt with, sooner it seemed than later.
Shout Outs!
Smiley Cad – I'll write down who's with who so far, but I ain't giving anything away!
You already know the Manhattan newsies from the movie but here's a list so far… Pistol – Manhattan, Emotions with Wolf both are from Brooklyn, Hebrew- Queens, Ruth-Queens, Misery with Racetrack they live in Brooklyn, Pokey is with Jack she is from Brooklyn, Bourbon is with Riddle they're both in Brooklyn, Jaws- Manhattan at Medda's, Joaquin-Manhattan, Shakes-Manhattan, Becca-Manhattan, Spitball-Queens, and that's pretty much it I think. If I left anyone out then I didn't mean to…
Kays14 – Thank ya! And boy do I agree… Spot is very hot…
Emotions – I hope I got Wolf and you right so far! Let me know if I didn't. And yes hopefully I'll develop things soon.
Just Duck – Soon my dear, soon. Muahaha…
Jamie Bell – Hah…I'm 4"11, that's why I make most of the girls so darn short. I could get a handicapped sticker but I don't want one. Squirt can be your friend and naw you aren't weird. Pistol is just quirky. At least I'm trying to make her overly so but I don't know if it's working.
Nada Zimri – Oi sorry I haven't been around a friend of mine passed away so I've been helping other friends deal with that. And yes the jealous is about to get worse. Heehee. I'm glad you like Pistol's craziness I've been worried that it hasn't been working.
Jocelyn Padoga – I'll be developing your character more in the next chapter but at least you made an appearance! Awww thanks :D Back atcha chickee! I'll try to make your brother more sarcastic but I'm glad I did okay with him so far!