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Your real name. No aliases: we'll figure it out sooner or later and you'll be less one job immediately. |
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| *stares back at her interviewer with wary hazel eyes* Bryony Whyte. Whyte with a Y. *spells it quietly* And that's my real name. *knows she'd be caught if she tried to lie about something as simple as her name* *just hopes that if anyone's looking for her, they don't think to look as far as Brooklyn* | |
| So, is that just between you and me, or do you have somethin' else you'd rather we call ya? | |
| Bryony's fine. *shrugs a bit* *tries a smile* Or Bry. Or any other variations thereof. *bites her lip* But, I don't like to be called "doll", or "baby", or anything like that, if it's all right. *hesitantly* Thank you. | |
| How old are ya? | |
| Eighteen. *is just barely seventeen, but isn't sure if she'll be hired if she admits to being underage* | |
| Say I die tonight an' there are new guys at the door tomorrow when ya come in for work. How do they know it's you? What do you look like? | |
| *swallows a bit* I have alot of freckles. That's how people usually figure out its me. *tries another wary smile* I'm... *considers the back of her slim hands* I'm medium height. I need to eat more. *is perhaps a bit too thin, the result of several months of fear and stress* *tucks a strand of hair behind her ear* I have reddish blonde hair. I guess you could call it strawberry blonde. *her hair used to be her crowning glory, straight and very thick, down to her waist, but she hacked it all off in the spring, and its just finally growing back, just past her shoulders now* My eyes are hazel. *shrugs a bit* I don't know what else to say about it. | |
| Right. What's your background like? And got any education -- can ya read an' write? | |
| *nods quickly* Yes. I can read and write. I read alot, actually. I like books. When I'm not working, that's what I usually do, read. I read alot. *bites her lip and curses herself for having said that already and sounding stupid* *swallows* I came to New York with my older sister when our father died. That was about five years ago. We're from Massachusetts, Wakefield? *pauses, then hurries on* Emma met this boy, and he was from New York and so we came... *shrugs a bit* *forbears to mention that the boy Emma met convinced the elder Whyte sister to sell her favors to cover his opium habit, while getting her addicted to the substance as well* Emma - *died of an overdose* *waves a hand a bit* and... I had to support myself. That's all. Do you want to know more? *bites her lip* *worked at the infamous Bell and Whistle in the Bowery for almost a year, but ran away from it, terrified of the owner* *hopes nobody asks about that, doesn't much want to be found by her previous employer* | |
| Describe yourself, your personality. | |
| *looks at San warily, wondering why it matters if she does her job well* I don't know... *vaguely* I guess, I guess I'm a nice person. *is quiet and fairly meek, doing her job without challenge or backtalk* *is quite sensitive and intelligent, and more than slightly unhappy about where her life's circumstances have led her, but has no idea how to change them, and therefore never complains about them* I'm a good listener. *smiles a bit and nods* | |
| Criminal record, prior arrests or convictions to speak of? | |
| *blinks slowly* Oh. No. *looks scared for a moment* *there was a raid once at the Bell & Whistle, but the manager paid off the raiding cops with favors from the girls, so there wouldn't be a record of it* *shakes her head quickly and hopes that doesn't come up again* | |
| Got any family around, or friends? | |
| *bites her lip* Emma's dead. *shakes her head again* *counts the girls back at the B&W as her friends, but is afraid to mention her connection to that establishment, for fear she won't be hired here* And... I don't know anyone here yet, obviously. | |
| What're your skills, an' what kind of job do you want? | |
| I'd work upstairs, if you hired me. *lifts her chin* *is actually a very good escort, very polite and sweet to the customers* | |
| Anything else? | |
| *shakes her head* I don't think so. *smiles somewhat shyly* | |
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