paixaorpg | Can't Hear the Circulation Bell From Here [COMPLETE]

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Can't Hear the Circulation Bell From Here [COMPLETE]

Character: Spot and Beat
Content: Spot arrives at Paixao and meets Beat.
Setting:Niflheim Gate
Time: Say late afternoon-ish
Warnings: No idea yet

Newsies all over New York City were celebrating the success of the strike. On every street corner, you could hear them calling out the headlines even louder than normal and when they'd sold off their last paper of the day, Spot Conlon and his fellow Brooklyn newsies had taken to the East River, congratulating Spot and each other. It was a hot summer day in the city, and even the pink suspendered newsie himself couldn't keep out of the water, especially after the morning they'd had. He stripped down to his skivvies and jumped in, relishing the cool water of the river until his lungs started burning for air.

There was something definitely wrong with the scenery when he came back up, though. No skyscrapers, no docks, no newsies cheering each other on, just . . . nothing. Or, well, there was plant life and such, and what looked like a giant building, but Spot didn't recognize any of it. So where was he? He'd jumped into the East River from the Brooklyn side. But he wasn't in Brooklyn anymore. The nearest Spot could tell, he must have gotten caught in a current without realizing it and been dragged down-river towards the Bay and the ocean. He'd gotten lucky and hit land, though, which meant one thing: "Oh great. I must be in Joisey."

The fact that his clothes were waiting for him on the shore turned off an alarm in Spot's head, but he ignored it for the moment, getting dressed and following the building around until he found a line of people who seemed to be waiting to get into the building. Spot bypassed them all, heading towards the man at the gate to ask him where he was but before he could say anything the man asked him his name, gave him some sort of . . . he didn't even know how to describe it, and welcomed him to "Pie Show."

"Must be some kinda bakin' convention or sumpin'," Spot muttered to himself as he headed inside the building and looking around for someone that looked like they knew what was going on.

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Spot watched and listened, following Beat's directions and trying to keep in mind what did what and how to make it do it again so he didn't have to have Beat standing over his shoulder every time he wanted to use it. Besides, he had to be able to show the guys back home. "What's tight?" he asked off-handedly, trying to make his way through the journal without Beat's help.

Boy, this guy really did live under a rock or come from some backwater place if he didn't even understand basic slang. He'd have to be patient, he reminded himself mentally. Even if he had to hold Spot's hand and show him how to do everything until he got used to the place, it'd be worth it when they got in a scrape and the kid got to show his skills at brawling. "Y'know. Tight. It means like... cool," Beat explained. "Like... awesome or good. But instead y'say 'That's tight'!"

Okay, so now things were starting to slowly make a little bit more sense than before and Spot decided that it had been worth it to give Beat that second chance. "Nevah hoid it b'fore," he said, looking back up at the other kid. "Must be a Joisey thing, huh? So where was da last place ya saw ya sista anyway?"

"Joisey?" Beat repeated, looking baffled. "'Sat what dey call it? I dunno, man, in Shibuya everybody talks like dis." It was a slight exaggeration. "An', well, last place I saw 'er was at our house. It was 'er bedtime an' she was comin' in my room t'say goodnight, so I said goodnight back an' crashed... den, well, I woke up in dis lousy place."

At first, Spot was just going to write Beat off as a tourist (where was Shibby-uh anyway?), even though he didn't know why anyone would want to spend recreational time in New Jersey. But as he listened to the kid talk, there was something disturbingly familiar about his story. "Whoa, whoa, hold on dere. A'you tryin' t'tell me datchoo just showed up here? Outta nowhere. You was someplace else den you was here an' you dunno how it happened?"

"Yeah, tha's exactly what happened!" Beat said excitedly, pounding a fist into his palm. "I was at home, den suddenly I wake up an' outta nowhere-- I'm in dis joint an' I got no clue how it happened! An' let's face it, bro, I don't usually got a clue, but dis time I'm really confused, man."

He let out a tremendous sigh. "This ain't the first time somethin' like dis's happened t' me, y'know? 'Cept last time..." he hesitated. "I was sorta dead. But I don't think thas what's goin' on dis time, cuz' I sure as hell wouldn't forget dyin' again, y'know?"

Maybe that second chance thing had been a little premature. "Most people don' remembah dyin' da foist time," Spot pointed out slowly, "bein' dead an' all. Is dis kinda joke? Did Jacky putchoo up t'dis? You go back dere an' tell 'im dat Spot Conlon ain't laughin'."

Beat was dumbstruck. Man, this guy was really a skeptic. "H-hey man!" he gaped, and more or less spazzed out in Spot's general direction. "I ain't messin' wit' ya! It's true!" Not that Beat didn't understand the hesitation. It did sound pretty wild when he thought about it... and man, you should have seen the look on his parents' faces when their presumed deceased son and daughter came home one night good as new.

"A-anyway, that don't matter! I was tryin' to say we AIN'T dead. See?" He pounded a fist against his chest. "Good as new, aight? C'mon, man, let's get t' work. I dunno much more'n you when ya get right down to it. Le's go take a look around, yo."

Maybe "dead" was more of that weird slang that Beat had been using throughout the conversation, because that was the only explanation Spot could come up with to make any of that make sense. There was obviously just some other meaning of the word "dead" that Beat was intending that Spot just didn't know about.

"A'right," he said, "butchoo tell me what's really goin' on here in plain English, got it?"

"Plain English?" Beat murmured, as though it was difficult for him to contemplate the meaning of the phrase. "Well, uh... like I said, yo, I don't got a clue what's goin' on. That's why we gonna go check it out, aight?" Maybe he'd just keep the whole deal with the Game to himself for now, if Spot's reaction was any indication.

He retrieved his skateboard from where he'd set it and put the straps on, slinging it over his shoulder. "C'mon, yo, let's go look around, see if we can find out wassup 'round here."

"Sure." Spot just followed Beat, wondering what the thing on his back was but not sure he really wanted to ask either. Instead, he fiddled around with his journal, answering a couple of messages left there and looking around for a blonde girl in an orange shirt at the same time. One of the messages worried him a bit, though, and he looked back up at his new companion, "'Ey, you hoid anythin' about da guys 'at run dis place?"

Beat had been looking around every corner and scanning every crowd for any sign of his sister or his friends-- or anybody who looked like they knew what they were doing, for that matter.

"Guys 'at run th' place?" Beat repeated. "Nah, man, I ain't heard anythin' 'bout 'em." He knew all about Pinky and Lollipop, of course, but Lollipop had claimed they had nothing to do with this place. And he really had no reason to lie, even if he was a Reaper. "What you heard?"

"Here." Spot handed his journal over to Beat so he could read Reno's comment about the kidnappings, torture, and killings. "Guess dis ain't much of a vacation spot," he said, looking around much more attentively now, watching for suspicious looking people, which was much harder since there were plenty of people walking around that were dressed strangely to him. "Dis Reno says we oughtta meet 'im at Central Station."

Beat hadn't heard anything about kidnappings, torturings and killings-- and the second he did, an alarm went off in his head and his desperation to find his sister went up about a hundredfold.

"Wh-WHAT?! Scumbags like dat's in 'dis place?! Oh man, Rhyme, I swear I'll beat the ass've anybody stupid 'nough to mess wit' her! Grrrr!" He very narrowly avoided throwing Spot's journal against the ground. "What're we gonna do?! Who's dis Reno guy?"

Spot took the journal back and looked through the comments on his entry again. "Says he knows people dat're gettin' t'gedda t'stop 'em. Can't say I know 'em poisonal, could be scammin' us, or he could be one o'dem. No way t'know without lookin' into it but if you don't go, I don't go, so whaddaya say?"

Well, if the people who ran this place really were dangerous, it'd be best to get together in a big group to stop them. Especially if, as Beat feared above all other things at the moment, Rhyme was here and had somehow fallen into their clutches.

Finally he took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm up for it. S'a start, right? Le's book it an' meet dis guy."

Spot nodded and took a quick look around before turning back to Beat. "So . . . you know where Central Station is?"

"Abs'lutely no clue!" Beat replied with a huge grin. "Betta find a map, yo."

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Can't Hear the Circulation Bell From Here [COMPLETE]

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