forum newsies!! o/o (closed)

Started February 05, 2019 by Deleted user

tune

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((bump to see if anyone else is interested?

((hey u know what, imma just turn this into a o/o

((okie!

Name: James "Sprints" Alderwood
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bi
Newsies group (Manhattan, etc): Manhattan
Looks: Light brown, slightly floofy hair cut in a messy undercut style. James is a lean bean, but still has some muscle. He's 5'10" and about 136 lbs. He wears a dark blue button up with worn black suspenders and a dark grey vest and knickers with high socks.
Personality: James is some sort of a messenger for the Newsies, delivering important news to other groups. His charismatic personality and lightheartedness makes him perfect for the job. He's polite until he senses some bullshit going on, then he investigates until he's satisfied. James is loyal as a dog to the Manhattan newsies, and would never betray them to anyone.
Backstory (optional): James was left in the Orphanage by his mother and father because of ~reasons~, so he doesn't really like to talk about his family.
Other: n/a

I love him so much

aw thanks :) ready to start?

Yeah! You gonna?

(yea)

James, or otherwise known as "Sprints," sat straight up at Jack's voice yelling for the newsies to wake up. Blinking slowly, his eyes adjusted to the light filtering through the open windows, and he yawned, standing up tiredly. I should go back to sleep, he thought, but then you'd be out of a home, idiot.

"Hey Finch, you seen my shoes?" James called, one arm stuck under his bed, searching for the pair.

((plz excuse my dumbassery, Riff is in brooklyn so like do I just write her doin' shit out there?

((sksks makes sense
Riff was already up, catching a break after hitting the early morning businessmen. She liked them, because they were easy to manipulate, and she was one of the only few willing to wake up early enough to get to them.

“I’s saw Albert run off with dem,” Sprints cursed under his breath and looked for the redhead. Spotting the red hair, he scrambled up and smacked the back of his head, taking his shoes.

“Ow, what was dat for, Sprints?” The newsie in question simply rolled his eyes and got dressed, buttoning his shirt up as he exited the newsie household.

With a grin, Riff cut down an alley, banging a stick in a tin can and watching piles of clothing and limbs stir and groan. "Rise 'n' shine, newsie's. 'Nother day another dime!"

Swinging his bag over his head, he slipped through the crowd of newsies at the gate til he got to the front. Poking his head through the bars, he decided to poke a little fun at the Delancy brothers. “My oh my, what is dat putrid smell?” Sprints called out, causing the brothers to turn their heads and a ripple of laughter go off in the newsies behind him.

Kit, a good friend of hers, chucked an empty tin can at her. It was easy to dodge, just by stepping to the side, and she made her way over, leaning down by his ear to jangle the can. "On your feet, private. You got yourself a job to do."

Sprints went quiet as Jack began to egg them on, a sly smirk on his face. All he had to do was poke at the Delancy’s, and all the other newsies would jump on the bandwagon on making fun of them. It was all in good fun, of course, til Oscar started shoving a little too hard. Then he would step back in, charming their way out of a fight.

Pretty soon, she had all of them up and freshening up, best they could. The usual morning grumbles soon faded into planning, and Riff snuck off. She made her way up a fire escape and onto the roof of a nearby building, making her way along and scouting for more business.

It seemed like forever til the circulation bell rang, which released the newsies from behind the gate. Swift as ever, Sprints got into the beginning of the line, ensuring he got top pick of the papes. No one wants to buy a nasty lookin pape.

Slamming his pay on the box, he sent a charming smile at Wiesel. “So, Weasel, how bout I’s cuts youse a deal? I’s pay regular, but youse give me ten more papes, eh?”

Riff spotted a younger girl, around her age and wealthy looking, and grinned. Sliding down another fire escape, she dusted herself off and pulled a pape from her messenger bag, approaching the girl with a flirty smile. Ten minutes of flirting and conversation later, she had actually sold three of the papes.

"Take your papes and scram, newsie," Sprints frowned, but took his papes and headed out to his spot. But before he could get far, someone grabbed his arm. Whipping his head around, he saw it was Jack. What would he want?

"Sprints, I's need youse to deliver a message to Spot for me, after youse sells your papes," He nodded in affirmation, and Jack whispered the message to him. Man, this is good. Can't wait to see Spottie's face when I tell him.

After saluting to Jack, he ran off to find his spot to sell his papes. Selling papes were a breeze for Sprints. All you had to was give a charming smile and flirt a bit, and you had your papes sold in no time.

Riff leaned against a wall, watching people bustle on the street. She had a stolen pipe in her hand, screwing around with puffs of smoke. Somethin' interestin' needs t' happen soon. It's gettin' borin' out here.

Sprints sold his last pape with a smile and a kiss to the cheek, and he was off to Brooklyn. Whistling a tune he heard at Medda's theater, he was careful to avoid any conspicuous Brooklyn newsies. He knew they were very territorial, and he wasn't too hot on the idea of getting another black eye and bloody nose.

It seemed just like another boy his age when he passed someone smoking a pipe, but a second later the realization hit him. That was a Brooklyn newsie you idiot!

Riff spotted a newsie she didn't recognize, and set the pipe in the hand of some passerby as she snaked through the people towards him. With an eyebrow raised, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You look like a newsie, but you ain' anyone I know. You new, or not from aroun' here?"

Sprints froze as an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Uh oh. Turninh around, he shrugged off the arm, stepping a safe distance away. He had noticed the bat in their belt loops, and he did not want to get a beating.

“I’s from ‘attan. Names Sprints.” Sprints smiled charmingly, hands behind his back.