The Horace Greeley Statue

[Pixie Davenport]

(New Day)

"HUNDREDS DIE IN RAILROAD CAR EXPLOSION!!!"

Pixie smirked as the elderly woman bought her last paper of the day. She shoved the coin into her pocket and quickly headed off in the direction of the Horace Greeley Statue. If she finds out that it was only rodents that died as opposed to people, she might not be too happy with me. She chuckled to herself because the women in the city were some of her best customers. They're always looking for the newest, juiciest piece of gossip for their for the next time they see they're friends.

Pixie pulled her cap off her head letting her red curls tumble down her back and stuck the cap in her brown leather satchel. She climbed up the base of the statue and set her satchel down, and then climbed further up and made herself comfortable in the statue's lap--lounging across the stone legs.

From her perch Pixie could watch--unnoticed--the people who walked the streets and keep an eye out for the next unwilling target for one of her many pranks and hijinks. Would it be the older gentleman with the obvious toupee, the young woman with the mob of kids surrounding her, or the group of old biddies who are huddled together gossiping about who-knows-what and not paying attention to her?

A noise from below at the foot of the statue base, startled Pixie from her musings. She groaned and leaned forward to see who it was bothering her solitude. She quirked the left brow and stared down at the person below.

[ghost1211]

Just as Pixie looked down Anya looked up. Her nose had been buried in the paper she had across her lap. She had been under the impression that she was alone but she had clearly missed the person stretched out in the arms of Horrace Greeley.

She bit her lip when she saw the girl looking at her quizzically and folded the paper shut and stood up " Sorry I didn't know this spot was taken. " She knew she was in Manhattan but wasn't sure how she had gotten that far from Queens. She had a habit of wondering out of the area and not realizing it till she got to another borough.

She wouldn't blame this girl for being upset at her, she had after all crowded her selling spot. To be honest she wasn't sure how the girl was going to react to seeing her. She had ended up in Brooklyn the other day and they hadn't been so kind to her. She backed away from the statue still eying the girl

[Pixie Davenport]

Pixie sat up and looked at the girl more thoroughly. She obviously wasn't from Manhattan because she knew all the Manhattan newsies, and she most definitely wasn't a Brooklyn kid--the air about her and her apology clued Pixie into that right away. Must be a Queens or Bronx kid; Russian by the sound of it. "It is... But I'm not selling my papes here, if thats what you were referring to. Just relaxing before lunch... But I wouldn't think about selling here anyways. The kids that does sell here wouldn't think too well on you stealing his spot."

Pixie dangled her legs off the side of the statue and leaned forward. It was probably rude to continue to talk to the girl below from her higher perch, but she wasn't about to give the advantage to the taller girl until she knew more about her. "Bit far from home ain'tcha?" she asked referring to the girl's Russian heritage. She hadn't come across many Russians in the time she lived in New York but she knew very few lived in Manhattan because they just recently started immigrating to the area and more often then not preferred the Bronx or Queens as opposed to any other borough. "You're not from around here, are you jeune fille russe?"



_{*French Lesson*
Jeune Fille Russe~Russian girl}