"Uh huh. And what're ya doin' down here, Sprints?" Rif asked, crossing her arms and cocking a hip. "You's lookin' for someone?" If he was down here looking to sell, she was going to have to chase him off. They had enough newsies down here already, struggling to sell.
"Mind telling me where Spot Conlon is, dollface?" Sprints leaned on the wall, cocking an eyebrow at her. This wasn't the first time he was a messenger for Manhattan, delivering messages to any place in New York City.
"Not if you're gonna call me that." Rif turned around, debating just leaving. If the guy was from Manhattan though, he was probably down here for good reason, since most people didn't often come looking for Spot. She waved for him to follow her. "You comin' or not?"
Sprints grinned cheekily, and followed the Brooklyn newsie down the street. "So what's your name, doll?" he said casually, attempting to make conversation. He did enjoy calling her doll, but he can't keep on calling her that. He didn't want to get beat up that bad.
Riff rolled her eyes, even though Sprints couldn't see it. "Riff works just fine." Despite her cold attitude, she actually kind of liked him. He was funny, and the most interesting thing down here right now. "I gotta ask, why're ya lookin' for Spot?"
"Hiya Riff," Sprints sent her a goofy smile, sticking his hands into his knickers. "An' I'se here for official 'attan business." He kicked a stone, and it skittered across the sidewalk. Riff was pretty chill for a Brooklyn newsie; the ones he met were not as kind.
Riff huffed a laugh, ducking into an alley way. "Uh huh. Care t' share?" She pointed at a fire escape, gesturing for him to climb. "And we'll take this route. Quick an easy." It was her preferred method of getting around, since the streets were usually crowded, and she could avoid cops this way.
Sprints tutted, a sly smile on his lips as he quickly climbed the fire escape and stood on the roof, waiting for Riff. "No can do, doll. This is between Jackie an' Spots only." He wanted to tell her, but Jack would have his ass if it got out.
Riff pulled herself up, and looked Sprints over with a calculating look before shrugging. "Probably find out 'ventually." He hadn't seemed to listen when she told him to stop calling her 'doll', but if she was being honest, she kind of liked it. She wasn't going to be honest though. She set off along the edge of the roof(a little too close, if you'd asked anyone else), waving for Sprints to follow.
“Youse close to Spot or somethin’?” Sprints kept his gaze on her face to watch her reaction as he followed her. He had heard the rumors that Spot had a girl, and for a while now. But they were just rumors, and he had to keep that in mind. Plus, who cared if Riff was with Spot? Definetly not Sprints.
"Like a brother t' me." Riff said, eyes on the street below them. He's around here somewhere, always is. "An' he never shuts up, too." The last part was said fondly, with a chuckle.
“Really?” Sprints gave her an incredulous look. Like a brother to her, eh? “He’s always quiet around me and the other ‘attan boys,” He fell into step with Riff, eyes scanning the streets, looking for the Bulls. You can never be too careful in New York.
"Consider yourself lucky." Riff joked, glancing back at Sprints with a grin. The guy wasn't too bad, so she was relaxing a bit. She looked back down at the ground, and waved, getting the attention of a few newsies who were chatting. "Here, we can ask."
“Spottie can’t be that bad,” Sprints laughed before it awkwardly trailed off when he heard Riff’s words. More newsies? He strayed towards the back of the building, hopefully so the others couldn’t see him.
"He ain't. Love the guy, but he talks a helluva lot." Riff said, turning so that her back was to the edge of the roof. And then she jumped.
Sprints opened his mouth to reply when Eiff jumped off the roof. What is she doing?! He rushed to the edge of the building, poking his head over. “Riff!”
Riff caught the gutter, and used it to inch her way over to the drain pipe. "Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow as she looked up at Sprints, sliding down the drainpipe and landing easily on the ground.
Sprints visibly relaxed as he saw she didn't crash into the ground. "I's thought you'se were jumping, doll," he said, somehow pulling off the same trick Riff did. It was a miracle he didn't crash; he was the clumsiest person he knew. Landing beside Riff, Sprints gave her a charming smile, playfully bumping her in the shoulder. "Not too bad, eh?"
Riff laughed, bumping him back. "Eh, maybe a seven. If you's is lucky." She let out an 'oof' as an arm was suddenly thrown around her shoulder, with enough force to pull her down a bit.
"Aye, three cheers for the Riff-Raff, amiright?" Kit grinned down at her, but his attention was suddenly drawn to Sprints, the grin turning a bit more menacing. "And who're you?"
Sprints laughed, but it trailed off awkwardly when the second Brooklyn newsie appeared. He definitely did not like the look he was giving him, and it made Sprints take a few small steps backward. "Names Sprints. I's from 'attan." he said, spitting in and sticking out his hand, an offer of solitary.
Riff shoved the arm off, taking a step back as Kit stared at Sprint's hand for a few moments. He took it, finally, and his grip might of been a bit too hard. "And what's you got planned with my girl here?"
Riff rolled her eyes, elbowing him. "Ignore him. Any o' you fellas seen Spot? Some big news is goin' around or somethin'."
Sprints hid his wince at the tight handshake, retracting his hand to his side. It seemed like Riff and Kit were close, with him calling her his girl, and it didn't look like he liked him. "It ain't that big of news, doll," he said, crossing his arms.
"Pretty big if ya came down here." Riff pointed out, grinning, before turning to Kit with an eyebrow raised. "Well?"
"Frenchie saw 'im down by the docks, talkin' t' some gal." Kit shrugged, shooting a wary look at Sprints. Riff nodded, slapping his shoulder in thanks and gesturing for Sprints to follow as she started off down the street.
"Touche," Sprints said, walking in step with Riff. After a moment of silence, he spoke. 'I's gets the vibe that Kit doesn't like me very much." He saw the wary look Kit shot at him, but he didn't blame him. Manhattan was wary of strangers too.
"He don' like anyone he ain't known a while." Riff shrugged, shooting Sprints an apologetic look. "He's had a few…bad experiences with strangers. Honestly, if ya spent a bit more time 'round 'im, he'd start to warm up t' ya."