#c: splasher

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@frxncaise | starter call

"You lookin' for Race?"

The small blond boy is perched on the wall beside the lodging house, legs dangling down and swinging idly as he chews on a crust of bread, trying to make it last as long as humanly possible. It hasn't exactly been a good selling day after all, and he needs to save his coins for his bed, and for his next set of papes, even if Race has told him on more than one occasion that if he needs a little help he can get it. Race tries to help everybody, sometimes too much. Splasher might only be eight, but even he can see that.

He's seen this girl about before, he's pretty sure, and he reckons he's seen Race talking to her, if his memory serves him, though he's not entirely sure who she is. Still, any friend of Race's is a friend of his, and the older boy usually has pretty good judgement. Most of the time. Splasher takes another bite of the crust, pulling his legs up to fold them beneath him, studying her curiously.

"He ain't here though. Headed off to Brooklyn for poker night."

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@betterto-die-thanto-crawl | continued

For almost as long as he can remember, Splasher's always been a bit scared of the Delancey brothers. They're considerably bigger than him after all, and way stronger, and in his experience they don't usually pull their punches too much and aren't afraid to throw them either. More often than not, Splasher has kept himself tucked back behind one of the older boys, avoiding them as much as humanly possible.

But this...well Morris is still way bigger than him, but right now he don't seem so scary. Maybe he's gotten a lease of courage. Arm cradled in his lap, knees grazed and bloody and a bruise forming on his cheek, Splasher looks a little sheepish. "Some boys from the factory took one of my papes, and when I tried to get it back they started pushing mes around..."

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@frxncaise asked: ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜

They'd won the strike overall, but there had still been things to deal with. Namely that some of their own had spent several days laid up recovering from the riot, the other newsies clubbing together to cover the cost of their beds, food, and what few medical supplies they could manage. Splasher was one of those who'd spent the days since the riot, curled up in bed, one of the other boys or Kloppmann keeping a constant eye on him. Even now, a few days later, the bruising around his temple is still vivid, and the bandaging around his shoulder and his ankle is visible.

Pale blue eyes look up at her though as she speaks, a small smile playing on his lips. He's been getting a little bored being cooped up, the others insisting he needs to rest and recover, so it's nice to see a fresh face as opposed to Race lingering over him and constantly checking he's okay. He's met her a few times before, usually when he's been with Race. "I's a bit sore, but I'll be okay!"

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@betterto-die-thanto-crawl | continued

Ever since the fight had happened, Splasher's been laid up. His face is still painted with bruises, though the swelling at least has gone down, but he still hasn't been feeling great overall. It's been agreed by all of them that it's best if he stays behind and rests up until he's feeling in top condition again and can walk without limping too much or feeling dizzy or his shoulder aching in it's socket. The older boys have been taking it in turn to pay for his bed for the night, and for food to keep his strength up, and when they all go out to sell, Kloppmann's been keeping an eye on him so he's not alone. Most of the time, he just sleeps, still worn out even though it's been several days.

Part of him hears the shuffling around, but he doesn't even really question it, thinking it must just be Kloppmann. A cough escapes his lips, and he curls a little further into the thin blankets, pale blond hair splayed out across the pillow. He hears feet shuffling in his direction, and it takes a moment for it to register, but then he realises he recognises the sound. It's familiar, and when he peels his eyes open (one slightly easier than the other still), it's Crutchie. Crutchie's back! It had been Race who'd had to try and explain to the little boy what had happened to her, and he'd been distraught. But now she's home!

"Crutchie!" he calls out faintly, struggling to push himself upright, though his arm protests and his vision spins a little.

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@loudnclearspot | continued

"Oh, hi Spot!" Bloody knee or not, at least Splasher's spirits haven't been dampened. He's huddled on the curb, bag sitting beside him empty, and there's a slight tear in his cap, a smear of grime across his cheek. He doesn't seem particularly bothered by the fact that he's wandered into another borough, but it's probably because he's pretty well accustomed to ending up this way with Race. "I finished sellin' early today! So Race and I were gonna come this way to say hi, but he started talkin' to someone and was taking forever..."

At this, the small boy rolls his eyes a little, clearly a little bit bemused by this whole turn of events. He loves Race, but Race talks an awful lot and sometimes it gets rather boring for him. "So I just figured I'd come on by myself but then I realised I couldn'ts see Race anymore so I climbed the tree...'cept I fell."

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@thisshadeofred | continued

Splasher, in truth, is out of breath as they continue to sprint through the streets. It seems like every corner they turn there's some other problem that has them hastily changing their route, be it the bulls, or a crowd impossible to squeeze through, or the Delancey brothers clearly in the mood for a fight. They've not been running for long, but it feels like hours for little legs, though their pace has slowed a little with Henry's ankle.

"Nah I won't, it's gonna be fine!" he cries with a slightly tired grin as they turn another corner, "Come on, we ain't far."

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@betterto-die-thanto-crawl | continued

He couldn't just leave her.

Splasher knew she wanted him to go find Jack, but he couldn't just leave her. He wasn't even sure where Jack was, what if he couldn't get back in time? What if they hurt her more? He didn't want that to happen. So instead he'd jumped back in to aim a kick at a nearby shin, and then the fist had collided with his head, sending him staggering backwards, struggling to stay on his feet. He teeters for a moment, then Crutchie is dragging him away and it's all he can do to stay upright.

"They gone?" He mumbles, his voice a little shaky and slurred as he leans against her a little.

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@betterto-die-thanto-crawl | continued

"Mhmm," Splasher mumbled, leaning into the touch against his forehead. His tummy felt all funny, and his head hurt, and even though he was fairly well bundled up, he still felt pretty cold and couldn't help but shiver a little bit. He'd felt a little off at breakfast, but he hadn't said anything because they still had to sell. But as the morning had worn on, he'd just felt worse and worse, to the point where he hadn't been able to hide it anymore.

"But wes still got a bunch to sell..." Splasher chews on his bottom lip with a frown. They'd picked up quite a few, because Jack was really good, and because Splasher was small and cute which always worked well, but it would be tougher for just Jack alone. Sniffling a little, the little boy threw himself forward, spindly arms wrapping around Jack's neck as he tucked his warm forehead into his shoulder.