Age: 24
Gender: Female
Physical Appearance: Shirley was blessed to get all the Prowell women beauty; curling, dark hair that meets dainty shoulders, smooth, flawless, pale skin, and general body structure of the fine female. Yet, one thing unlike the women in her family, her face is not completely hard and angry-looking. In fact, her features are rather soft and inviting, yet, the girl can be vicious whenever desired. Shirley likes clothes, especially fine dresses and sky-high heels. Her attire often gets her catcalls and long stares, but, being the strong, independent women she is, she holds her head high with her camera gripped in her fist.
Profession: Reporter for the "New York News"/spy for gangsters into the "police" world.
Brief bio: Shirley Prowell was born and raised in the good, ol' South; her parents and grandparents faced the difficulties of the Civil War and lost many family members to the yankees. Her family always had a hatred of Northerners, yet, this hatred didn't really settle in Shirley. Shirley, in fact, always wanted to travel to New York, as the large, bustling city had to be much more developed than her country Atlanta. At age 14, she asked her mother why they couldn't simply travel to the yankee city, as it was a good tourist attraction. But, her mother just wouldn't hear it, and sent the girl away with a slap across the face. Shirley began to question her parents judgement, thinking they were being stubborn and hateful; she doubted they yankees held such a grudge against them. So, she planned on running away to New York after school ended. Although she had formed the plan, it wasn't set into action until she met a kind, yankee gentleman at the grocer's one afternoon after her final year in senior high. The two grew very close over a span of two weeks, and, well, fell in love(or so it seemed to those lovebirds). On his final day in Georgia, he proposed to her and told her, "I'll take you any damn where as long as you'll be my bride!". Shirley, being used to southern customs, agreed, as long as she had her parents consent. Of course, this idea was completely foolish; giving your beautiful, young, intelligent daughter to a flithy, no-good, low-down yankee? Yes, the two did consider this, yet, Shirley devised a scheme. Instead of telling them he was a successful Northerner, they would say he was a farmer from Montgomery, Alabama, and, after they gave their blessing, the two would "move out to the old ranch" and live happily together. Well, the plan went accordingly, as her parents weren't the sharpest crop-cutter on the market, and never once noted his yankee accent. So, after packing all her belongings in his luxurious car, they two traveled back to New York to his grand apartment on the eastside of town. Shirley got into the reporters' business, and her lover went back to being his successful, CEO self. Months went by before any trouble came brewing, but, once the trouble came, it was as big as State Capital Building. Shirley was supcious to her "perfect, yankee gentleman" cheating on her with a mistress in the gangster part of town. Whenever Shirley questioned this, her "man" would get all upset and tell her to move out if she didn't trust him. Of course she stayed; she had no where else to go. She had no car or transportation home, no money of her own to buy an 'partment for herself, so, she simply put up with the nights alone in their bedroom, staying at a dull, gray wall. One night, she finally had had the last straw plucked from her hand. It was late, and her lover had an important affair in Louisana to deal with involving the company he owned, so, Shirley spent another night alone in that bloody apartment room with her reports laid on the bed's surface. She was a-fiddling with papers when the doorbell rang out three chimes, and, surprised anyone would be out at this late hour 'sides gangsters, she grabbed the pistol from the top drawer and went to answer the door. What she found made her furious, as there, dressed in what could only be the finest lingerie in France, was a bleach blonde protsy with shoes higher than Shirley's own. And, to her shock and a bit of amusement, the woman at her door actually asked, "Hey, is your husband home?". You should've seen Shir, the way she just chuckled at that woman like she was the stupidest thing in the world and said with a tidbit of hysterical humor, "Listen to me whore, get your dirty ass off my doorstep or I'll blow a million holes in you." The woman, more than likely used to verbal fights, shot back with a handful of curses and shot her the finger. That was truly yhe wrong thing for her to do, as Shirley was pissed and tired as hell. She raised the gun level with the woman's shoulder and blasted three loud, racketing shots past her ear, causing that prosty to flinch like a little girl who done-skinned her knee. Many would've laughed at the way that woman scampered out of that apartment complex like a little rat, but, Shirley went about sobbing in the doorway. It was around midnight when Shirley had most of her valuables in a pack and was on her way to no where. After a few weeks, Shirley had the money to start a-renting an apartment of her own on the gangster part of town, and, well, her new location caused her to get tangled with them in present time. Although she's a stubborn, independent woman like her mama now, she still gets calls and messages from that ex-lover of hers. She plainly ignores him, and focuses on the work she's got on her plate.