Breathless McQueen

Full Name: Breathless McQueen, hello hello! *used to be considerably more shy- has since gained more confidence and is more comfortable in Harlem* Mum would have a fit if she knew that everyone calls me that… *exaggerated Irish Mother Falsetto* "Breathless is no sort of a name! Yuir Siobhan Eve McQueen, and don’tcha be fergettin’ that!" *shrugs*

Age: Seventeen, currently. April seventh, 1886, if yer curious. *grins* *will give you friendly (and daily) reminders starting as early as January up until April*

Appearance: *pulls a few bobby pins from her pile of unruly dark curls, places them between her lips and speaks around them as she adjusts* No’fing speshal. *is neither too tall or too short, skinny or round, pretty or plain* *pokes the pins back into her hair one by one and wrinkles her freckled button nose in self-conscious disdain* An’ I mean it. So quit’cher starin’! *her pixie face uncrunches for a moment and you can clearly study her dark green eyes, fierce white skin and abundant freckles* *shrugs a bit* Did’n I tell ya?

Background: Ooh, now that’s a question, isn’t it? Not the kind o’ question I like answerin’, mind you. *winks a little - will merrily divulge almost everything you ever (or never) wanted to know about herself* I suppose you can guess where I’m from, hm? *Co. Cork Ireland* Ireland boys, hurray. So the McQueens were fairly well off, fairly prominent around the town and all that. My big brother Seamus an’ me were quite close, and Mam and Pop were well meaning, I’m sure. I just didn’t get along wit’ either of them. Nothin’ too dramatic, unfortunately: we more ‘r less parted ways, an’ I more ‘r less hopped a boat to lovely Tin Pan Alley. I found my way here, and the rest, as they say, is history. *grins a little, hopes you’re still awake and while you’re at it, riveted* *would love to embellish her tale to its fullest extent, but finds it much more painful than she lets on and instead tones it down. To the extreme disapproval of her parents, Siobhan was an enthusiastic ragtime fan, and had also fallen in love with an ill-fated member of the Sinn Féin. She immediately left Ireland in hopes of, like every other immigrant, starting over.*

Relationships: Aye, don’t we all? I think it’s safe t’ say I love all these girls, an’ half the boys too. *grins playfully* Imp, Ver, Fingers, Skies ‘n Flash, Hobo. *won’t mention her previous romantic ties with the boy, however* I do miss Ash ‘n Ruby ‘n Sketch ‘n Smoke n’ Muse n’ Mess terribly… *shrugs a bit* Bigger ‘n better things, right? I’m happy fer ‘em. *nods* I also got some friends in higher places… *casually namedrops* Josef an’ Chana Green, Erich Mueller… *has recently regained contact with her beloved brother, and writes very frequently*

Other notes: *loves five things: her brother, Ireland, music, her harmonica, Josef Green* *has quite a guilty penchant for five other things: cigarettes, ragtime, radical politics, good alcohol, (dirty) dime novels* *on a very sidenote, Breathless has also become an active member of a leftist group fronted by Mr. Green and dabbling in anarchy, and though she’s not quite clear on the idea itself, she rather fancies the idea of revolution*

Full Name:	Breathless McQueen, hello hello! used to be considerably more shy- has since gained more confidence and is more comfortable in Harlem Mum would have a fit if she knew that everyone calls me that… exaggerated Irish Mother Falsetto "Breathless is no sort of a name! Yuir Siobhan Eve McQueen, and don’tcha be fergettin’ that!" shrugs
Age:	Seventeen, currently. April seventh, 1886, if yer curious. grins will give you friendly (and daily) reminders starting as early as January up until April
Appearance:	pulls a few bobby pins from her pile of unruly dark curls, places them between her lips and speaks around them as she adjusts No’fing speshal. is neither too tall or too short, skinny or round, pretty or plain pokes the pins back into her hair one by one and wrinkles her freckled button nose in self-conscious disdain An’ I mean it. So quit’cher starin’! her pixie face uncrunches for a moment and you can clearly study her dark green eyes, fierce white skin and abundant freckles shrugs a bit Did’n I tell ya?
Background:	Ooh, now that’s a question, isn’t it? Not the kind o’ question I like answerin’, mind you. winks a little - will merrily divulge almost everything you ever (or never) wanted to know about herself I suppose you can guess where I’m from, hm? Co. Cork Ireland Ireland boys, hurray. So the McQueens were fairly well off, fairly prominent around the town and all that. My big brother Seamus an’ me were quite close, and Mam and Pop were well meaning, I’m sure. I just didn’t get along wit’ either of them. Nothin’ too dramatic, unfortunately: we more ‘r less parted ways, an’ I more ‘r less hopped a boat to lovely Tin Pan Alley. I found my way here, and the rest, as they say, is history. grins a little, hopes you’re still awake and while you’re at it, riveted would love to embellish her tale to its fullest extent, but finds it much more painful than she lets on and instead tones it down. To the extreme disapproval of her parents, Siobhan was an enthusiastic ragtime fan, and had also fallen in love with an ill-fated member of the Sinn Féin. She immediately left Ireland in hopes of, like every other immigrant, starting over.
Relationships:	Aye, don’t we all? I think it’s safe t’ say I love all these girls, an’ half the boys too. grins playfully Imp, Ver, Fingers, Skies ‘n Flash, Hobo. won’t mention her previous romantic ties with the boy, however I do miss Ash ‘n Ruby ‘n Sketch ‘n Smoke n’ Muse n’ Mess terribly… shrugs a bit Bigger ‘n better things, right? I’m happy fer ‘em. nods I also got some friends in higher places… casually namedrops Josef an’ Chana Green, Erich Mueller… has recently regained contact with her beloved brother, and writes very frequently
Other notes:	loves five things: her brother, Ireland, music, her harmonica, Josef Green has quite a guilty penchant for five other* things: cigarettes, ragtime, radical politics, good alcohol, (dirty) dime novels* on a very sidenote, Breathless has also become an active member of a leftist group fronted by Mr. Green and dabbling in anarchy, and though she’s not quite clear on the idea itself, she rather fancies the idea of revolution