Chatting Charries

Lark rolled his eyes, annoyance shining in them. "Yeah," He said an italian accent entering his words that hadn't been there before. "But it's staring to get annoying, this was the last chat I was big in."

Andrew

"The 'eight? Or the accent? Accents aren't all bad. It shows where ya came from, Tommy and I 'ave ours." I said to Lark.

Lark smiled a little, "The height, I kinda like the accent to be truthful."

Andrew

I laughed, "You're a lot shorter, mate. No doubt 'bout that."

Tommy frowned, "We're the same 'eight!"

"I know!"

Lark chuckled and tossed the ball in his hand a couple times, then his eyes narrowed with confusion. Then he slowly grinned. "Well, one good thing. I now know how to play baseball. Apperentally this me loves the sport."

Tommy

"Then yer not to far from us in time!" I laughed, appearing next to him. "See? It ain't that bad!"

Lark nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "I guess not. Although I liked it better when my name was really Lark."

((I think he only told Tommy what his real name is.))

(Yeah)

Tommy

"Quincy isn't /so/ bad,"I said, trying not to laugh. I heard Andrew trying not to snicker and failing.

"Quincy?" He asked.

Lark sighed, turning red as he nodded. "Quincy is my real name."

Tommy

Andrew appeared next to Lark on his other side. "It ain't that bad." he said, feeling bad. He ruffled Lark's hair. "I like it."

I chuckled and nodded in agreement.

Lark grinned and fixed his hair so it was less messy. "Yeah, I like it sometimes, but Lark is better." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Huh, my job.....I'm a breaker boy."

Andrew

"A breaker boy, eh? I never had that job, I was a newsie though and I worked in some factories. The day I died, I was lookin' for a job at the pier unloading cargo."

Tommy shrugged, "Never done that job either. I was a newsie like Andrew and I did work in a few factories."

Lark nodded and glanced at his hands, flexing his fingers a little in thought. "Hard jobs* He muttered.

Tommy

I nodded angrily, “That’s cause we’re third class, poorest o’ the bunches. The rich folk are “too good” for that kind o’ labor.”

Andrew sighed, “Things don’t get that much better in America, then the countries we left.”

Lark looker at them with the faintest smile. "Si, not much. But it is better." He closed his eyes slightly and opened them again a stubborn gleam in the as the smallest of tears was forced back. "I don't remember much of home, but mama says it was as hard, if not harder."

Andrew

I put an arm around Lark and pulled him into a hug. "Things were 'ard in Ireland too. America is a lot better though, once you look past the prejudcies against us. That's why we gotta stick together, we know better then anyone what it's like."

Tommy stood around awkwardly, he had never made it to America...at least not alive...but he had watched Andrew struggle.

Lark nodded, his thoughts on the past. He look at Tommy for a moment then bit his lip and sighed. "Did Naomi ever tell you how she died?"

Tommy

"er...no...I didn't want ta ask...I didn't think that... Yeah...." I stammered uncomfortably. That could be a touchy subject, and I hadn't wanted to hurt her feelings.

Lark nodded, his hand rubbing his neck for a moment before he spoke. "She didn't make it to America. On the boat she'd gotten pretty sick, I don't remember much of that but I do remember that day. I wasn't spose to go up on deck without anyone to watch me, but I hated that rule. Being the smart little boy I was I managed to sneak up on deck, and it was good for awhile. But then this storm whipped up, you know how temperamental the sea weather can be don't ya? Well, this one came out of nowhere and boy was it a bad one. I basically froze to my spot on the deck, all the shouting and orders confusing me. Then Naomi was there, pushing me towards the stairs. She was still weak, shaking even just from the effort it took to get me moving. "

Tommy

“She fell over board, didn’t she?” I asked quietly, looking down at my feet. That was horrible; I knew the feeling of guilt from another’s death.

Lark nodded, having forgotten why he was telling this in the first place. "She shoved me below deck as on of the wooden things came loose. It swung across the deck, everyone else had seen it coming, they either ducked or got out of the way. She was tired and sick, and watching me. It caught her and swept her out to sea."

Andrew

"It wasn't yer fault mate." I said, hugging Lark. "It was an accident."

Tommy nodded, hugging Lark too. "Ain't yer fault."

Lark smiled a bit, his bitterness fading into guilt. "It is...if I hadn't been above deck she would. Have stated in her sick bed, gotten better. Lived."

Andrew

"You didn't know what was gonna 'appen, none of us do. Do ya think I knew I was gonna get shot? Or that Tommy would drown? No, and if we 'ad know we wouldn't be 'ere. We can't change the past, Lark. It was an accident."

Lark sighed, relenting for now with a slight nod. "I guess I've successfully managed to darken the mood." He mumbled giving a small chuckle to try a nd lighten the mood. "Sorry bout that."