Post by clairemontgomery on Apr 24, 2012 2:12:47 GMT -5
[classy=apptite]CLAIRE JULIEANNE MONTGOMERY
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[classy=appdesc]Oh, hey New York! Look who's it is! It's Claire Julieanne Montgomery! Oh, uh... perhaps you know them by their nickname, Jules? Anyway, this certain blessing in disguise came to us on April 14, 1997, and grew up to be a hefty 5'6". You can always tell it's Claire because of their red hair, chocolate eyes and branded clothes. Not to mention they've gotten themselves 3 tattoos! You know, everyone says they look like Leighton Meester? 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 his papers and glanced at you once through his small eye glasses.
"My name's Claire Julieanne Montgomery. Fairly long, I know. I'm fifteen and I've been sent here by my adopted parents. -pauses- I think they kicked my out, but whatever. I'm a drama queen like that. Uhm. I suppose I'll be a freshman this coming school year while being regularly checked by the doctors in here. Which, I, myself am still trying to figure out why is necessary. I'm okay. I'm fine. I don't have... whatever my parents thought they think I do. -pauses- Should I go on?"
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.
"Well, I might have set a few wind furies loose in my mom's clothing store. But it's not like I intentionally did it. Like on purpose. I just wished you know, the damned AC in the corner would start back up. It was boilingly hot that day and all I wished for was some wind to come through the windows, which you should assume, have glass on them. And then, I guess I wished too hard and the windows just flew in, spreading glass everywhere and tearing up my mom's masterpiece. I mean, seriously, I can design a better dress than that, which of course I told her but she just gave me her look. Which can be as cold as your stare. -stops- There were other times and more often than not, my parents would give me this look they had and before I knew it, I woke up in the limo with promises of a dream vacation to Bali but look at where I'm at. And my whole wardrobe's in the trunk too. Nothing but a letter for me. -shifts in seat- I overheard some people while on the way here that I'm the weather freak. Not a, but the."
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?"
"So for the record, I didn't know there was an invitation. None. Nada. I was just shipped off here with all my clothes and shoes and money and godknowswhatelse. I haven't really checked the insides of the bags. My parents texted me earlier too. Texted. Not called. My mother used to call and talk to me all night long when I was away at boarding school and look at what she does now. Just gives me this text that I should just follow and everything will be fine. I mean, okay, their not my real parents, they can be brutal honest people at times, I can be too, but I'm their only daughter. Why would they send me here and lie to me in the face saying I was gonna be going on vacation? -calms- Everything was perfect, I guess, until this whole situation came and I just wish. -thunderstorms brewing outside- FINE! I'm not crying! God! Just, cure me! Please!"
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?"
"A normal life. I hate this- -sends a lightning bolt flying towards a pot in the corner- Uhm. Well, you see my point. It's been going haywire lately. And. Was that expensive? I'm pretty sure I can find you a replacement, with real flowers this time."
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.
"Shopping. Though I'm pretty sure there's nowhere to shop on this island. Tell me, are we going to wear those gray suits and all? Gray's not really for my skin. It makes me look like I didn't get any sleep. Oh. I do love sketching though, and a bit of the arts. A little theatre and acting I guess. Dancing, singing. The sort."
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'm definitely a freak of nature. Or maybe the government did some experimenting like in that movie and things got wrong and I was affected by it. Come to think of it, I may have been one of their experiments, or. Nah. I'm just fooling myself. This is real life after all. I just wish that after my four years here, I'll be cured like what my parents told me."
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.
"When are we allowed out? We are allowed out, aren't we? Mr. Principal? Yes? -is pushed out the door by the guards-"
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[classy=app2]matt. gmt +8. melle.[/classy]
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