Post by EVAN JAXON LOVATO-CRANE on Mar 27, 2012 18:43:06 GMT -5
Oh, hey Duncan! Look who's it is! It's Evan Jaxon Lovato-Crane! Oh, uh... perhaps you know them by their nickname, Evan or E.J.? Anyway, this certain blessing in disguise came to us on October 15th, and grew up to be a hefty 5'10". You can always tell it's Evan because of their orange hair, grey eyes and asskicking body. Not to mention they've gotten themselves five tattoos! You know, everyone says they look like Ebba Singmark? I personally don't see it though ....
The fat lard of a principal looked over his papers with a rather disinterested attitude. He noticed you sitting down, but doesn't really have the courtesy to look up from his desk. To you, he says out loud. "Let's begin sha'll we? Tell me the basic details about yourself." With a cough, he shuffled through is papers and glanced at you once through his small eye glasses.
She leans back in her chair, tossing one arm over the edge while the other supports her head. “Everything? You some sort of stalker? Gunna’ write notes about everything I do?” She winks one of her dark blue-grey eyes and laughs impishly. “My name’s Evan Jaxon Lovato-Crane. Teachers assume I’m a boy until they meet me but whatever. Some people call me E.J. I’d prefer that over Eve or some prissy shit like that. The Jaxon comes from Michael Jackson, my king.” Unzips her hoodie to reveal an oversized Thriller tee shirt that’s clearly been through better days. “I’m seventeen, born on October Twenty-seventh. I’m a junior. Adopted. Peoplesexual.” Shrugs blows hair out of her eyes.
With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, threw his glasses on the desk and ran his chubby fingers through thinning, greasy hair. He pinched the nose of his bridge and closed his eyes tightly as he said, "You know about the truth of this place. Now, I didn't invite you personally, my staff did. So please, give me a run down of your power." With his eyes still shut, the principal gestured with one arm toward you to begin.
"Fire. Pyro. I can't create it out of thin air, I need to have a flame to work off of. A spark." She shifts and removes a lighter from her pocket. "So this comes with me wherever I go. And even then I can only create a path for it to go across. I can't control it if it strays off of that path. Fire's very unpredictable. It does what it wants, so I can simply suggest what to do. To me, it's like there's an invisible thread that I can make the fire follow. If it strays away from that thread I can pull it back but it takes a lot of concentration. I tend to burn myself a lot." Her hands raise and turn back and forth, showing both her palms and the tops of them. Covered in burn scars. "I've got a high pain tolerance now at least. Very little control but I'm working on it. I tend to set fire to everything when I get pissed."
Finally, his eyes opened groggily. However, he wasn't much warmer. He yawned loudly and largely as he looked over your paper. With eyes watery and face red he continued, "I see why we would have invited you. Let's see..ah yes. Mind telling a bit about your family and where you're from?"
She’s quiet for a moment, face contorting from its usual smug smirk to contemplative and pensive. “My family isn’t what most people would consider normal but it’s in no way dysfunctional. Perhaps a bit unconventional at worst but I wouldn’t change a thing. My mother was a teenage slut who put me up for adoption the second she found out she was pregnant. A gay couple found her through the adoption agency when she was four months pregnant and I became theirs. (I’m from Canada, by the way, that’s why this was even allowed to happen.) They paid all of her medical bills and made everything super easy on her, letting her decide if she wanted it to be an open or closed adoption and what the conditions would be. She opted for closed and from the moment I was born I became Xavier Crane and Kahlua Lovato’s daughter. They already had a five year old daughter named Brandyn from one of Kahlua’s previous relationships so I was in experienced hands. I like to think that other than having gay dads my childhood was pretty average. We weren’t rich but we weren’t poor either. We got by pretty well enough. My and Brandyn got along as much as we argued. Normal stuff. We got shit for having gay dads but I was a tough kid. I didn’t let people talk shit about me or my family. They were always supportive and I always knew that I’m adopted. They gave me the choice of knowing the story of my mom or not and I finally asked when I was thirteen. I never really had any identity problems though. My dads are my dads. The woman who gave birth to me was just an egg donor as far as I care."
She shrugs yet again, shifting her legs a bit to be more comfortable. She's been flicking a lighter open and closed since mentioning Canada.
"There was a brief point in my early teen years when I used to threaten to run away and live with my mother but I don't think they ever took it seriously. I didn't even know her name so it wasn't like I could try and find her. The first few times I said it Kahlua broke down and begged me never to leave them, but he has always been kind of unstable. He was really badly fucked, sorry, messed up as a kid and has some health, mental and physical issues. He's kind of delayed so when I said stuff like that he took it to heart until he realized I was just doing it to make them angry. The hardest part about all of his problems was when he had his mid-life crisis. He broke down because his brother wasn't allowed to get out of prison and realized he was reaching his forties with two kids and just lost it. Xavier dealt with it like a boss though. He was used to this shit I guess. He's always been the motherly type who likes to care for everyone."
Catches the interviewer watching the lighter and pockets it, resorting to playing with her hair instead.
"His break downs were...well, you got used to them. They never really bugged me that much because they happened so often. It's like when you have an autistic sibling. Sometimes it gets annoying but in the end you love it. I always loved that my dads were so different from everyone else's parents. I loved being adopted. What I didn't love was people bugging me about it. I've always had a temper as fiery as my hair so fights were common. They still are."
While you were talking, the principal had made himself comfortable by leaning back in his chair and intertwining his fingers. "Hmpf. You should fit right in. May I ask, what are your plans in the future? Outside of AMG?"
Laughter is the only answer she gives for a while, raking hair off of her face and on to her back as it dies into little giggles. "Yeah right! I don't even know what I want to have for breakfast tomorrow morning!"
He looks much more interested now, rather awake and in a slightly better mood. "Tell me, do you have any hobbies?" he inquired, creating soft jazz hands at the word 'hobbies' as if to mock it. "You're aware that it may be difficult to continue these on the island, as you may not leave outside of break?" It was more of a statement than a question.
"I was one of those kids who wanted lessons in everything, but never lasted longer than a week. Mixed Martial Arts was the only one I stuck to. I also did archery, cooking, tap, ballet, riding, violin, piano, baseball, hockey, soccer. You name it. The only things I really stick to now are Martial Arts, rugby, photography, film making. That sort of stuff. I don't know; I'm one of those people who's good at everything but isn't exponential at something. Before I came here I worked at Home Depot."
Mind you, she hasn't discovered her talent for welding.
The principal crossed his fat arms and leaned on his desk. In a much more serious tone, he asked, "Be honest, child. How do you feel about all of this...supernatural stuff?" his shoulders shrugged as he said it.
"I don't know. I've never really thought much about it. I guess if this is what God has planned for human kind we can't really argue can we? I think it's stupid that they're trying to cover it up, but I guess it's kind of needed...Humans shun what they don't understand. We don't want an X-Men repeat."
Her tone aloof and uncaring.
He leaned back on the chair that squeaked under his weight. "I see. Personally, I have mixed feelings. Anyway, we're finished now." The Principal grunted loudly as he got up to shake your hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, do you have any questions for AMG?" he added, as he let go of your hand and buzzed the receptionist to lead you out.
"Nope." She stands and stretches her arms above her head, a few bones cracking and creaking."Peace, homie." A lazy wave as she struts off.
She leans back in her chair, tossing one arm over the edge while the other supports her head. “Everything? You some sort of stalker? Gunna’ write notes about everything I do?” She winks one of her dark blue-grey eyes and laughs impishly. “My name’s Evan Jaxon Lovato-Crane. Teachers assume I’m a boy until they meet me but whatever. Some people call me E.J. I’d prefer that over Eve or some prissy shit like that. The Jaxon comes from Michael Jackson, my king.” Unzips her hoodie to reveal an oversized Thriller tee shirt that’s clearly been through better days. “I’m seventeen, born on October Twenty-seventh. I’m a junior. Adopted. Peoplesexual.” Shrugs blows hair out of her eyes.
With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, threw his glasses on the desk and ran his chubby fingers through thinning, greasy hair. He pinched the nose of his bridge and closed his eyes tightly as he said, "You know about the truth of this place. Now, I didn't invite you personally, my staff did. So please, give me a run down of your power." With his eyes still shut, the principal gestured with one arm toward you to begin.
"Fire. Pyro. I can't create it out of thin air, I need to have a flame to work off of. A spark." She shifts and removes a lighter from her pocket. "So this comes with me wherever I go. And even then I can only create a path for it to go across. I can't control it if it strays off of that path. Fire's very unpredictable. It does what it wants, so I can simply suggest what to do. To me, it's like there's an invisible thread that I can make the fire follow. If it strays away from that thread I can pull it back but it takes a lot of concentration. I tend to burn myself a lot." Her hands raise and turn back and forth, showing both her palms and the tops of them. Covered in burn scars. "I've got a high pain tolerance now at least. Very little control but I'm working on it. I tend to set fire to everything when I get pissed."
Finally, his eyes opened groggily. However, he wasn't much warmer. He yawned loudly and largely as he looked over your paper. With eyes watery and face red he continued, "I see why we would have invited you. Let's see..ah yes. Mind telling a bit about your family and where you're from?"
She’s quiet for a moment, face contorting from its usual smug smirk to contemplative and pensive. “My family isn’t what most people would consider normal but it’s in no way dysfunctional. Perhaps a bit unconventional at worst but I wouldn’t change a thing. My mother was a teenage slut who put me up for adoption the second she found out she was pregnant. A gay couple found her through the adoption agency when she was four months pregnant and I became theirs. (I’m from Canada, by the way, that’s why this was even allowed to happen.) They paid all of her medical bills and made everything super easy on her, letting her decide if she wanted it to be an open or closed adoption and what the conditions would be. She opted for closed and from the moment I was born I became Xavier Crane and Kahlua Lovato’s daughter. They already had a five year old daughter named Brandyn from one of Kahlua’s previous relationships so I was in experienced hands. I like to think that other than having gay dads my childhood was pretty average. We weren’t rich but we weren’t poor either. We got by pretty well enough. My and Brandyn got along as much as we argued. Normal stuff. We got shit for having gay dads but I was a tough kid. I didn’t let people talk shit about me or my family. They were always supportive and I always knew that I’m adopted. They gave me the choice of knowing the story of my mom or not and I finally asked when I was thirteen. I never really had any identity problems though. My dads are my dads. The woman who gave birth to me was just an egg donor as far as I care."
She shrugs yet again, shifting her legs a bit to be more comfortable. She's been flicking a lighter open and closed since mentioning Canada.
"There was a brief point in my early teen years when I used to threaten to run away and live with my mother but I don't think they ever took it seriously. I didn't even know her name so it wasn't like I could try and find her. The first few times I said it Kahlua broke down and begged me never to leave them, but he has always been kind of unstable. He was really badly fucked, sorry, messed up as a kid and has some health, mental and physical issues. He's kind of delayed so when I said stuff like that he took it to heart until he realized I was just doing it to make them angry. The hardest part about all of his problems was when he had his mid-life crisis. He broke down because his brother wasn't allowed to get out of prison and realized he was reaching his forties with two kids and just lost it. Xavier dealt with it like a boss though. He was used to this shit I guess. He's always been the motherly type who likes to care for everyone."
Catches the interviewer watching the lighter and pockets it, resorting to playing with her hair instead.
"His break downs were...well, you got used to them. They never really bugged me that much because they happened so often. It's like when you have an autistic sibling. Sometimes it gets annoying but in the end you love it. I always loved that my dads were so different from everyone else's parents. I loved being adopted. What I didn't love was people bugging me about it. I've always had a temper as fiery as my hair so fights were common. They still are."
While you were talking, the principal had made himself comfortable by leaning back in his chair and intertwining his fingers. "Hmpf. You should fit right in. May I ask, what are your plans in the future? Outside of AMG?"
Laughter is the only answer she gives for a while, raking hair off of her face and on to her back as it dies into little giggles. "Yeah right! I don't even know what I want to have for breakfast tomorrow morning!"
He looks much more interested now, rather awake and in a slightly better mood. "Tell me, do you have any hobbies?" he inquired, creating soft jazz hands at the word 'hobbies' as if to mock it. "You're aware that it may be difficult to continue these on the island, as you may not leave outside of break?" It was more of a statement than a question.
"I was one of those kids who wanted lessons in everything, but never lasted longer than a week. Mixed Martial Arts was the only one I stuck to. I also did archery, cooking, tap, ballet, riding, violin, piano, baseball, hockey, soccer. You name it. The only things I really stick to now are Martial Arts, rugby, photography, film making. That sort of stuff. I don't know; I'm one of those people who's good at everything but isn't exponential at something. Before I came here I worked at Home Depot."
Mind you, she hasn't discovered her talent for welding.
The principal crossed his fat arms and leaned on his desk. In a much more serious tone, he asked, "Be honest, child. How do you feel about all of this...supernatural stuff?" his shoulders shrugged as he said it.
"I don't know. I've never really thought much about it. I guess if this is what God has planned for human kind we can't really argue can we? I think it's stupid that they're trying to cover it up, but I guess it's kind of needed...Humans shun what they don't understand. We don't want an X-Men repeat."
Her tone aloof and uncaring.
He leaned back on the chair that squeaked under his weight. "I see. Personally, I have mixed feelings. Anyway, we're finished now." The Principal grunted loudly as he got up to shake your hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, do you have any questions for AMG?" he added, as he let go of your hand and buzzed the receptionist to lead you out.
"Nope." She stands and stretches her arms above her head, a few bones cracking and creaking."Peace, homie." A lazy wave as she struts off.
[url=http://eoas2.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile&user=evan]EBBA ZINGMARK[/url]
