Full Name: | Heather Ann Mulcahy (Don't call me Heather! 'Sounds soft. Some a' da goils t'ink it's funny ta call me dat - *glares in Verity's direction* - but I'se known as Fingers.) |
Age: | I'se born April 18, 1882. *scowls* *is fast approaching twenty-one and is terrified* |
Appearance: | Not too fancy. Unda da doit me hair's brown, but who sees unda da doit? Brown eyes. Fairly tall - I'se 5'11. Dat's a pain in da rear any way ya look at it. *dresses in a blouse and skirt most of the time, though they rarely seem to suit her and can be quite pretty on the few occasions that she tries to be* |
Background: | What's dere ta say? I spent most a' me life in da red light district a' Brooklyn pickin' pockets - rich joiks comin' along ta - *clears her throat* I keeps me fingertips filed down so dey's nice an' sensitive. *something that has drawn many comments from her fellow lodgers - one year the girls bought her a file for her birthday* Ya gotta keep da edge. *how much of an edge she really needs since she started selling newspapers four years ago is uncertain, unless one counts her habit of picking up odd trinkets belonging to the other girls and returning them with an admonishment to 'keep on their toes'* I'se been in an' outta da State Home a coupla times. Da less said about dat, da betta. Been heah a few yeahs. *shrugs and scowls as she doesn't want you to think this means she's become attached to the Harlem girls or guys in anyway* *mutters something about 'Lansing'* *at the insistence of that policeman, she's been under the guardianship of Mrs. Evans since her mother died in September 1902* |
Relationships: | Wit who? Ev'rybody I knew in da bisness seems ta be in jail or dead. Da goils heah - dey's decent. Da guys are about da same wit a few exceptions. I know Gallagher from back in Brooklyn . . . *scowl directed at Ruby's husband for taking her away* Fowler, Harris . . . dey's aw right. Villaflores . . . *with an edge* I watch out fer me goils. *shrugs* Culligan, ovah in da Bronx, little slow, but decent. Diamond - *flash of vulnerability which you will not mention if you value your health* - is my bisness. *is due to be married within months and can't decide whether she's more frightened he'll change his mind or that he won't - marriage is an unknown world to her* |
Other notes: | Anyone hoits me goils, an' I'll hoit dem. If somebody needs a soakin' I gives it to 'em. I got no time fer cowards or stupidity. *cares a great deal about 'her goils,' but will die before admitting it* is terrified of Grover Neely, Lieutenant Lansing, and Luke Forlani, but this is something not to be mentioned* *her prized possession is a gold pocket watch she received as a Christmas present in 1902 with the names "Jonathan Connor Owens Junior" and "Heather Ann Mulcahy" engraved inside the cover.* |