Post by PACIFIC ELDEN MCLEAR on Apr 23, 2012 15:11:14 GMT -5
[classy=apptite]PACIFIC ELDEN MCLEAR
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[classy=appdesc]Oh, hey Seattle! Look who's it is! It's Pacific Elden McLear! Oh, uh... perhaps you know them by their nicknames, The Chameleon or Pac-man?? Anyway, this certain blessing in disguise came to us on May 29, and grew up to be a hefty 6’4”. You can always tell it's Pacific because of their naturally blond, typically blue hair, heterochromic eyes and extreme height while being skinny as a rail. Not to mention they've gotten themselves a wardrobe of fluorescent colored clothing! You know, everyone says they look like Tom Milsom? 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.
Pacific leaned back, tilting his chair onto two legs, indifferent to the fact that the principal didn’t even have the decency to look up at him. If the guy was going to play the hard-to-impress card, then he was just going to have to impress him. He brushed a hand through his overlong bangs in a vain attempt to get them out of his face. His hair was blue today, which was how he usually kept it. Blue fit the name well, he figured. When he decided that getting it out of his eyes was a hopeless case, however, he put his hand back in his lap where it had been before.
“My name’s Pacific Elden McLear,” he said, adding an air of pompousness into his voice, as though to cover the fact that it was a completely ridiculous name to begin with. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? Leave it up to a couple beekeepers in Seattle to pick the literal worst name in all of humanity for their only son.”
In all honesty, he really rather liked his name. Pacific was, both in meaning and in sound, a rather calm, peaceful name. Elden he could live without, he figured, but it did well in tying Pacific and McLear together. He didn’t really understand where the McLear came from. They weren’t Scottish. Well. Technically they were, but it was so diluted over the generations that pretty much only the name remained of their heritage. But whatever. Etymology really didn’t matter.
“Anyway. I’m sixteen but I skipped eighth grade because after one year of middle school they decided I wasn’t being challenged enough by the material. So I’m a senior this year.”
That was one thing that Pacific really liked about himself. He was extremely intelligent, there was no denying that. Nothing superhuman or anything. Just intelligent enough that he would spend most of his senior year of high school at age sixteen. And that was good. Smart or not, no one likes high school. It was good to think he’d be getting out of there before most other people.
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, my entire appearance is the perfect show of my power. I’m a color manipulator. My hair’s naturally blond, but as easily as I can reach up and touch it, I can change the color. Like this,” he said, then leaned forward in his chair, shaking his head and running his hands though it. It quickly went back to his natural blond, and after a moment he sat up again. “It’s super convenient because I like looking different from everyone else. Makes me stand out, yanno?”
Also, it was good for hiding his heterochromia. His parents often laughed at him, calling his two different colored eyes his only insecurity. They thought it was strange that someone who loved being different and colorful would hate having two naturally different colored eyes. But it wasn’t the fact that he had one blue, one brown that bothered him. It was the fact that it made him a freak. Being different was okay. Being a freak was something else entirely.
“I can change the colors of things I touch, but one day I’d love to be able to do it just by thought. And it’d be cool to be able to blend in to things around me. If I tried to do that now, I’d have to do it all manually, which would take forever and probably not even look good. So that’s something I hope you guys can help me with.”
It was interesting thinking back to the first time he realized what was happening. Kids had been teasing him about his eyes and he was chased around the playground at recess. The whole day had been ruined and he spent a good hour at home after school crying in the bathroom, staring at his reflection, willing the reflection he saw to stop looking like the freak they saw him as.
His eyes were puffy and red from crying, but once he managed to stop crying, he started rubbing at his brown eye, as though that would happen. For some reason, he decided to try touching the actual eye itself, and was both completely stunned and complete elated when he saw that the color changed. They were both blue! From then, he practiced almost daily, changing the colors of his irises. The kids at the school stopped making fun of him, having been silenced by the mystery surrounding his changing eye colors.
It was then that he decided to change. He became much more outgoing and realized he loved talking and being heard. Pacific charmed teachers and students alike and had many friends. The timid boy who was bullied was gone. He had grown up to be the charismatic, confident teenager that people knew him as today.
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?"
“Oh, God, I love my family. I’ve always felt kind of out of place among them anyway, but they’re the only one I have, right? Anyways. Like I said, I’m from Seattle and my parents are beekeepers. I was supposed to help them, I guess, but all my life I was too young and then I was suddenly too tall. I don’t know why that matters, but in my parents’ head, the fact that I’m six-four I can’t be around the bees. I guess I’ll scare them or something. It’s not like I’m clumsy or anything. But whatever. I have better things to do than smoke out some insects and collect honey.
“I have a little sister named Pandora. It was just my parents and my sister and I at our house most of my life, but at one point a good friend of my dad’s moved in because his wife kicked him out. It was only supposed to be for a few days until he found somewhere else, but he was there for almost two years.
“I was thirteen when he first came, and Pan was ten. Everything seemed okay for a while but one day Pan started getting emotional all the time, but she never wanted to talk about it,” he said. He paused a moment to look back at the principal, who didn’t seem to be paying much attention. That didn’t bother him much. Not everybody makes a good audience, so he continued all the same.
“It’s probably pretty obvious where this is going. But anyway. One day I wormed out of Pandora that Norm had been touching her and threatening to hurt her if she told anyone.
“I lost it. You don’t do that to my sister. So the one day I confronted him and got angry and started hitting him and stuff. It got messy really fast. When my parents came home and found out, I was in huge trouble. I was grounded, supposed to stay in my room except for when I went to school. And Norm was still around and I hated it. Eventually, though, my parents realized something was really wrong and they sent Pan to a therapist and found out that I was actually justified in trying to teach him a lesson. They kicked him out then, but my sister stopped talking after that. I think he threatened her before leaving. It’s hard to see her like that, but she’s smiling again, which I guess is what matters. It was a lot worse before.”
He seemed to realize then that he was going on and on about pointless things, so he stopped. “Anyway. Seattle’s great. I’m going to miss it. But there’s a lot of potential in me being here, I think.”
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?"
“I want to get my sister to talk again. And I want to be a photographer or something. I want to see where my power can take me in that field. I feel like it could be really neat, since I could just change the color of my subject, whatever that might be, and then get unique pictures. I don’t do it much now, but I’ve interested in it in theory, if that makes sense.”
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.
“Not particularly. I play tennis a little but I’m not very good. And I run. That’s really about it. I’m sure it won’t be too difficult to continue doing those things, but if it is, that’s not too much of a loss, really.”
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.
It didn’t take Pacific any time to jump into his answer. “I love my power. I think it’s the best thing about me and it’s given me the confidence to perfect who I am and I like who I’ve become thanks to it. But I think that on the whole, the idea of a race of supernatural humans could be dangerous. Even so, I’m in no way willing to give my abilities up, regardless of what some other people might do with theirs.”
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.
“No, not really. I think I’ll be alright.”
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[classy=app2]kirsten. eastern standard. female.[/classy]
[classy=apptite]FACE CLAIM [/classy]
[url=http://eoas2.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile&user=pacific]TOM MILSOM[/url]
