Roof Second Floor Lobby Back Door

Gypsy Blue 'ey kid, watcha name? Blue. Isleta Blue. *shrugs at your statement* It's weird, I know. My last name I made up myself, but I swear I was born Isleta... 'ave you been blessed wit a newsie nickname yet? Most of 'em call me Gypsy Where'd dat come from, anyway? *sarcastic sigh* Well, it might have something to do with the fac that I've wandered all over the country most of my short life... like a gypsy, y'know? When's yer birthday? Know how old ya are? I think I'm about sixteen, seventeen. *averts eyes* As for my birthday, who knows. Whatcha look like? I'm sorry, I had no idea you were blind. *snort* I'm kinda short... ish... and *yells in Cats' general direction* there's NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! *coughs* Dark brown eyes, darker brown, very long, usually braided hair, olive-y skin... that and the fact that yo hablo espaņol make me suspect I'm at least part Spanish. I'd say that I'm stunningly beautiful... or at least I would if it were true. *rueful smile* As for clothes, I pretty much live in what I've got on now-- blue shirt, black pants, gray vest, gray boots, and oh yeah-- *pats her head, around which is knotted a colorful piece of fabric* the Handkerchief-Scarf-Bandana. It's my trademark. And wadda ya like, huh? Got mucha a personality? I've been described as sarcastic, cynical, mysterious, creative, unladylike, stupid, disrespectful and my personal favorite, useless. *grins proudly* I think the last four were just jealous. So... where'd ya come from an' watcha doin heah? Short answer? Nowhere and nothing. Honestly, I've been wandering around selling junk for most of my life. Don't s'ppose ya got any friends, do ya? Not unless you count Riley... he kinda followed me here after the gang threatened to beat him up before I could "rescue" him again. *snort* What about a, uh, signifigant othah, hmm? *wink wink nudge nudge* *glares* No one. *crosses arms and averts gaze* Especially not Riley, thank you. Waddya do 'round heah? Same as always... sleep, eat, draw and sell papes, repeat. If ya emptied ya pockets right now, what'd be in 'em? *obligingly empties the debris out of her pants and vest pockets* I've got... some chalk, scraps of paper, my sling, a smooth pebble, a button, my knife, and two cents. *looks up* Anythin' else we oughta know? Nothing important. Back to the bunkroom