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Roof |
Kate Buell
*looks up from the Gentle Critic section of the Sun and raises an eyebrow speculatively* *replies in near-monotone, through plump pale lips* Katherine Buell
*again, looks up, but lips upturn in a small smile* Not as of yet. If you can find somethin' to fit me *waves a small hand* then go right ahead. *smiles a bit more* Until then, feel free to call me Kate. Everyone else does.
n/a
September 11. *snorts slightly* S'pose the next question'll be, "How old are ya?" The answer to that, my friend, is sixteen.
*looks a bit frustrated by the question, but obliges you* I'm me. *shrugs her thin, scrolled shoulders* 5'4", 119 pounds the last time I was in the infirm. *glances away momentarily, narrowing her blue eyes as someone walks past, then looks back at you and tucks her chin-length, turned-under bright red hair behind her ears* My hair's a bit ornery, but I manage to keep it straight...*trails off, eyes falling to the newspaper again*
*slightly unnerved, but controlling her voice so she doesn't sound unnerved* I'm analytical, I'm active, I'm decisive, I'm of fair intelligence, I'm curious, and I have a sarcastic streak, which I do my best to control. *finally glances up at you with eyes to penetrate, and an scrutinizing pout* An' I love to read *hint, hint* *eyes go from you to the paper*
*sighs and leans back, folding her precious distraction and setting it aside* My past. It's the same story as a half dozen hundred kids in the general vicinity. Decent family, illness strikes, little girl left to fend for herself until the authorities come to pick her up. Flash forward a year 'r so, girl meets boy, boy's born an outlaw, breaks her out of the hell of an orphanage she's imprisoned in. *fights a smirk* Boy ditches girl, girl stumbles into *looks around* a god-forsaken lodging house. *pauses, then sighs* I...don't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm not. But *thoughtfully* I am discontended. *glances at her dirty white cotton blouse, then to her ragged gray pants* There has to be more to life than this.
A few. *nods*
Every other person is significant. *smiles honestly* But as in a boy? *shakes her head slightly* No.
*grins amusedly* My status as a newsie? Hm. *looks around for Rebel or Remedy* You'd be best off askin' one of the leaders for the dirt on that one.
*pushes her slowly yellowing, straight teeth together and looks as if she's divulging a major secret to you* I'm sick fairly often. So if seem like I'm hard or angry, most of the time it's because I'm ill. *takes up her newspaper and nods politely to you* Good day. *walks off* |