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Post by Pine-Needle on Jan 3, 2018 14:54:31 GMT -5
It had started out the same way that any day would. Pine-Needle had been woken up early to sell papes, and she really hadn't wanted to. Yet, there she was, years later, still selling papers for a living. She had big dreams to get out of the city and head back to Pennsylvania, although it was beginning to seem as though that was never going to happen.
Letting out a quiet sigh, she continued to shuffle forward in the line, taking her time until she got to the front, where she ordered the same fifty papers that she got every day, before walking out to sell. Oh, if only the things in her life would change sooner rather than later - she was becoming tired of waiting.
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Post by Piper on Mar 26, 2018 19:39:26 GMT -5
Today seemed like a good day to go to the Bronx and sell. Queens was too risky these days, and Conlon was tightening reigns in Brooklyn. He was in Harlem last week, and he wasn’t in the mood for selling in Manhattan. So Bronx it was.
However, he was a little late in getting to the distribution center. That’s what he got for borough hopping, he supposed, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He just wanted to get his papers and be off.
He had just slipped in as a girl was heading out. He accidentally bumped her, knocking her fifty papers to the ground.
“Oof!” He stumbled backwards but was able to regain his balance quickly. While he might be edgy around others, he still had manners when it came to girls. “Sorry,” was his quiet but fast apology as he began to pick up the fallen papes. “Wasn’t lookin’ where I was going.”
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Post by Pine-Needle on Mar 31, 2018 11:32:00 GMT -5
Truthfully, Pine-Needle hadn't processed what had happened. All that she knew was that someone had bumped into her, and now her papes were on the ground, and there was a boy in front of her.
“Oof!”
A soft yelp had escaped her own lips as she almost immediately began scrambling to pick up the papes. While the breeze may have been slight, it was enough for her to be worried that she could have been wasting some of her money on a pape that she wouldn't be able to catch.
“Sorry, wasn’t lookin’ where I was going.”
Pine-Needle swallowed thickly, managing to round up a last, wrinkled pape before relaxing slowly, her muscles seeming to un-tense one by one. "I'm sorry... That was my fault."
Breaking her silence was something that Pine-Needle rarely did - however, she knew better than to not apologize for something like this.
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Post by Piper on Mar 31, 2018 20:24:01 GMT -5
Piper just shrugged at the girl’s apology and began picking up the last few papes on the ground.
“Here... I think that’s all of them,” he announced, holding out the small stack towards Pine-Needle. “You going to be okay?” He nodded at the papers that were a bit crinkly. It was doubtful that those would even sell.
He supposed he owed her for messing up her papes. Let’s see now, how many wrinkled ones did she have? Five? Six? He cursed under his breath. It looked like nine... oh well. He should have watched where he was going. He knew when to owe up for his mistakes.
“Here...” Piper stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his change. It would cut the number of papes he was going to buy, but he knew he ought to help the girl since he had bumped into her. “This should cover the papes that ya can’t sell.”
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Post by Pine-Needle on Mar 31, 2018 22:29:12 GMT -5
“Here... I think that’s all of them.”
Pine-Needle nodded slowly, tentatively reaching out to take the papes from the boy in front of her. She didn't really recognize him, although it didn't seem too weird, considering she tended to keep to herself. She barely knew the other girls, much less the boys in the borough. She nodded as a thank you.
“You going to be okay?”
She shrugged. It wasn't much of a big deal at that point; there had been days where she had tripped and lost papes to wind or rain or snow. It happened. She just appreciated the help making sure that she didn't lose any to the point where she was running around trying to catch them somehow.
“Here... This should cover the papes that ya can’t sell.”
Her eyes widened a bit as the boy began to pull out change from his own pockets, almost immediately frowning, despite how truly nice the gesture was. She didn't want money from him - he was struggling through life as a newsie in the same way that she was.
Shaking her head, she cleared her throat. "I ain't takin' your money," Pine-Needle mumbled.
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Post by Piper on Mar 31, 2018 22:54:20 GMT -5
Piper was slightly surprised at her silent response. He had thought most girls were talkative. Or maybe that just depended on the borough? He would know if he'd cared to pay attention in each borough he had been in.
He frowned, however, as the girl refused to accept the money he felt he owed her. "It ain't takin' my money. I owe ya for ruinin' your papes."
It seemed simple enough. Newsie's honor so to speak. Even if he wasn't loyal to one borough, he knew and for the most part follows the newsies codes of honor.
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Post by Pine-Needle on Mar 31, 2018 22:57:31 GMT -5
"It ain't takin' my money. I owe ya for ruinin' your papes."
Pine-Needle was reluctant to take money from him, even despite him insisting. She didn't know his circumstances, but she knew that a few cents could mean the difference between spending the night with a roof over your head and spending the night in an alleyway with rats all around you. She didn't want to do that to anyone.
"It is takin' your money." She insisted, raising an eyebrow as she dusted herself off and adjusted the papes to sit more securely on her shoulder. "I'm fine. It was my fault."
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Post by Piper on Apr 1, 2018 20:16:08 GMT -5
Piper frowned as she rejected his change. He pulled back his hand and shrugged. To each his own, he supposed.
“It ain’t takin’ if I owe you, but suit yourself.” He shrugged once more.
He moved over to where the line was starting to shorten. “Good luck on sellin’ then.”
If she didn’t want to take the change, he wasn’t going to force her. Piper would mind his own business like he always did. Besides, maybe the newsie code was a little different in this borough.
But look, it was his turn to buy his papers. “Forty papes please.”
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