Shoutouts!
Unknown-Dreams: Ah, the power of the angel face.
Kid Blink's Dreamer: Did you just coo? Weird. ((grin))
Pancakes: Your pen name is making me hungry...
"What's going on?" Two-Bits groaned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Newsies were running around the bunkroom, hurriedly getting dressed.
"Dice is in a fight!" Slots exclaimed, yanking on a jacket. Two-Bits shot up out of bed, toppling off of her bunk.
"A fight?" she exclaimed, grabbing for her boots. "With who?"
"With Striker! From Queens!" Slots replied, before dashing down the stairs. Two-Bits followed, quickly, sliding as she hurried outside. She pushed through the crowd, her small size aiding her as she squeezed between cheering and jeering newsies. She reached the edge of the circle and gasped.
Dice was circling, walking opposite a tall, black-haired newsboy. This was obviously Striker. Both had their fists raised, and Two-Bits was pleased to see that a beautiful shiner was forming around Striker's left eye.
Dice stopped walking, and a hush fell over the crowd. There was a suspenseful silence, and then, in an instant, both boys lunged. They met in a clash of snarls, insults, taunts, and, most importantly, fists, both boys punching everywhere they could reach.
The fight wasn't long, or very eventful, until the end. It looked like Dice would win this fight. He flipped Striker over, pinning him to the ground, and raised his fist—
—and froze.
There was complete, and utter silence. It seemed not even a bird was whistling. Dice looked down at his stomach, and gasped.
Stuck, four inches into his belly, was a knife.
"BASTARD!" Two-Bits shrieked, running to Dice's side. Striker pulled the knife out of Dice, and stood up, pushing Dice's body into Two-Bits's arms.
Tears began to streak down her face as she held Dice, her leader, her friend, her brother, in her arms, stroking his hair. "Dice," she sobbed, clutching at his hands.
"Anyone else want to challenge me?" Striker said, cockily, grinning and waving the bloodied knife around. No one said anything; they were still shocked at their leader's sudden death. "No?" he taunted.
Two-Bits stood up, and lunged at the older newsie, hatred clear in her eyes. "NO!" Slots and Poker grabbed her by the arms, holding her back. "He'll kill you!" Striker turned his gaze to her.
"That's right, little girl. I will kill you. There's no use fighting me," he said, coldly, still grinning. She glared at him, shrugging her friends off of her.
"Maybe you will, Striker," she said. "But if you kill me, it will only be as I am killing you." She did not wait for a response, but shoved through the crowd, and left The Bronx for good.
