Post by SHERIDAN RAQUEL BALSA on Apr 5, 2012 23:18:29 GMT -5
[classy=apptite]SHERIDAN RAQUEL BALSA
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[classy=appdesc]Oh, hey Portugal! Look who's it is! It's Sheridan Raquel Balsa! Oh, uh... perhaps you know them by their nickname, Sher? Anyway, this certain blessing in disguise came to us on August 12th, and grew up to be a hefty five foot six. You can always tell it's Sher because of their black hair, brown eyes and goofy facial expressions. Not to mention they've gotten themselves no tattoos! You know, everyone says they look like Jasmine Villegas? I personally don't see it though ....
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[classy=app1]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.
Sher pulled her legs up into her seat and folded them Indian style, resting one hand, palm face down, on each knee. She stared at her new head honcho with a no-expression face and smacked her bubble gum louder than she needed to. She didn't like boring people. She felt like they wasted her time. Unfortunately, she had no choice but to talk to this dimwit. Surely he was no reflection of the kids here.
"Name's Sheridan," she said slowly, careful to let as little of her accent through as possible. "With a Raquel and a Balsa after it. I guess I'm technically an exchange student. I speak Portugese, and I lived in Portugal until I was four and a half, but my mama and my grandmama took me and my brothers and sister--I have seven altogether--to Brazil to meet my papa and my grandpapa. But I guess that's not important."
She paused a moment to dig in her ear, then returned her hand to its previous position, completely content with herself. As much as she hated leaving behind her family and Fauve (her very dumb, very French best friend), she was really eager to start making friends at this new school.
"Uh, yeh-ah. Anyway. This is my freshman year, which is totally cool by me. I may look young, and be young, but I definitely act older. Bet you thought I was cocky senior when I walked in, right?" There was no response. "But I'm only fifteen."
She didn't feel the need to say anything else. One question down, God-knows-how-many-left. Then, she thought of something very urgent.
"I'm really religious, by the way. There wouldn't happen to be a place I could go to to pray on the island, would there? Don't wanna disrespect my mama and my teachings while I'm here."
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.
Sher actually smiled at the thought of her power. "Well, it's pretty fucking cool. No pun intended. I can, like, control ice. Or make it, whatever you wanna say." She reached a hand out, eyeing the coffee on his desk for a little demonstration. Within seconds, the whole thing had frozen, and then, it started to move. At first, it only shook a little, but after a few painful moments, It started to form a brown sculpture of what would have been Sheridan's face, had she not let out a grunt, dropped her hand, and released her hold on the coffee. It returned to it's liquid state with a sloshing sound.
She rolled her eyes at the pathetic attempt. "Obviously, I need a little practice. It's sort of exhausting. I first figured it out when I came out--as a lesbian, that is--to my mother when I was 12. She didn't take it well, and I was really upset, and made the stew my mom had on the stove turn to ice and then jump at him, luckily, it melted before it could stab him. I had a whole bunch of vegetables to pick up after, though." The whole time that Sher talked, she used her hands to animate everything, and her eyes widened and narrowed with exaggerated emotions. She was starting to have fun with this. "But really, it's sort of a molecular control thing that I can do with the water. Maybe I can control water, but it's just much easier to control ice because of how close together the molecules are. Guess I'll find out while I'm here."
The discovery of her power had been extremely exciting for Sher. She was ecstatic about the opportunity to learn to control it better.
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?"
Sher took a deep breath, and dropped all pretense of not having an accent. This was going to take a long time. Her story was very long and detailed. She would try to skip over the little things, but she didn't see it happening.
"Alright, well, like I said. When I was four and a half we moved to Brazil where my daddy and my mama's daddy were. That's when they started to teach us all English along with Portugese. My daddy had big dreams, he did. Was going to go to America, start his own business. He was a great man. I loved him a lot. So did my mama. Anyway, for two years we lived in the country, in a nice neighborhood with the white people, but then we couldn't make ends meet anymore. My brother Georgie--he was my best friend--he tried to help make us money. My daddy didn't know it, but he had gotten involved in the drug cartels in the favelas. He was very young. Sixteen at the time. The money didn't help. We got kicked out of our house and forced to move there, right in the heart of it all. I was really young, but I remember almost every day of it. It was horrifying. There was a lot of death. There were happy times with my family, but mostly death and poverty and filth, in our one little cramped house. My parents saved every day to help us get to America. I was about nine when my grandparents got sick. We almost had the money to leave, but we were just a little bit short.
"Georgie knew it. So he took a risk on a really dangerous deal. I should have noticed. He was my best friend. I loved Georgie more than anything. But I was too busy protecting my younger siblings from all the hatred in our neighborhood. Mama, daddy, they knew. They kept the secret well. They didn't want him doing it, but they were desperate to get grandmama and grandpapi to the hospitals in America so we wouldn't lose them. The last time I saw Georgie, he was sneaking out of the house and I caught him. He kissed me on the head and told me everything would be alright. They found half of his body--he was cut in half by some cruel, evil, nasty people--in an alley a few streets over a week later. We never found the rest of him."
Sheridan had to stop talking for a moment, because she was crying big, fat tears. She wiped her face and continued. She had been strong then, she could do it now.
"So, anyway, yeah. I'm a little bit sensitive about that. I miss him a lot. I was very strong then. We left a year after that. My mama was heartbroken. She didn't want to leave him behind. I was ten or eleven by then. Everything up until arriving in America was a blur really, because right before we left my grandpapi passed away. I think that was the breaking point. When they decided to go all in and just do it. They were tired of the poverty. It took us a long time to get there. I don't know why. I think they tried to keep us in. The police, I mean. They don't like for when white tourists see the dirty Brazillian kids. Since then, I've lived in America. My family is big and we don't have a lot of money, but we're close to God and we love each other. I'm happy. I've got this friend--Fuave--who's French. He has a girl's name. He's very cool. I wish he could have come here with me, really, but I guess everyone has to make sacrifices."
She was a much different girl, at that moment, than the one who had nonchalantly talked about her power only moments before. Though she was distraught from talking about her brother--which she never usually did, but she felt like it might be important later--she recovered well, she thought.
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?"
Sheridan actually laughed. "I'm a freshie, Mang. I ain't got no plans. I'm just going where the tide brings me, ya dig? Hopefully, all my brothers and sisters will have happy lives and I can sit back and laugh at the world's bull shit with my old age. That's all I'm askin' for out of life. That, and a sexy lady to treat me right." She grinned a little, in much higher spirits now.
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.
"Well, I box." She fisted her hands and did a few demonstrative punches for him. "Competitively. I guess there's no league, here, though. As long as there's a gym, though, I can keep training if that's okay." She pulled up the sleeves of her loose t-shirt to flex her lean, muscular arms. "I'm so not losing these babies after three years of hard work, no sir. Oh! And I paint." She offered a shy smile at that. "There's not a place to get supplies for that here, is there? I'm kind of picky with my paint."
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.
Sheridan shrugged again, showing off much the same attitude about this as she had with her plans. "Mang, I say let it be. I freaking love my power, but I can understand why other people don't. And why people would be scared shitless of us. I think it's a cool idea, though I do respect a difference of opinion. I don't really know. I'm not the best informed about it, to be honest." Sheridan was very on the fence about the whole ordeal, but she didn't think it was worth wasting energy thinking about.
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.
Sheridan jumped up, squeezing the principal's hand hard enough to show off her strength, and said, "Nice meetin' you. This was a nice interview. I hope you have a nice day," and left the room without further ado. Now for some pot, or some pizza. Preferably both. And a few new buddies to help her consume them.
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[classy=app2]Becca. Central. Female.[/classy]
[classy=apptite]FACE CLAIM [/classy]
[url=http://eoas2.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile&user=sheridan]JASMINE VILLEGAS[/url]
