Post by CALEB LOGAN SMITH on Apr 6, 2012 23:07:55 GMT -5
[classy=apptite]CALEB LOGAN SMITH
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[classy=appdesc]Oh, hey Portland! Look who's it is! It's Caleb Logan Smith! Oh, uh... perhaps you know them by their nickname, Caleb? Anyway, this certain blessing in disguise came to us on November Eleventh, and grew up to be a hefty 5'11. You can always tell it's Caleb because of their black hair, black eyes and his smirk. Not to mention they've gotten themselves zero tattoos! You know, everyone says they look like Ezra Miller? 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.
Caleb sat down, rather easily, and grasped the arms of the stiff chair with his gangly fingers. He sat up straight - enough so that it appeared that he was interested and engaged in the conversation that would consume his valuable time - and let his eyes wander the different objects throughout the room. He saw nothing interesting, nothing that stood out, and so his dark eyes jumped to the large man before him. The principal? Caleb could already tell that this man didn't want to be there, but that much was obvious. He was married, Caleb could tell from the ring that sat on his obnoxiously large finger, and the lack of pictures on his desk told Caleb that he was unpleasantly occupied with a family he barely cared for. Before Caleb could think anymore, though, the man spoke. "I don't understand why I should have to. Especially if you have my file sitting in your fingers," Caleb said, his voice rather monotone, his dark eyes not disconnecting for a moment. "But my name's Caleb Logan Smith. I'm seventeen years old. I'm probably smarter than half of your student populace, so you don't need to worry about my grades." He sneered a little, before straightening higher. "And as you can see, from my file, I was recently released from Juvy." He finished, a light smirk resting on his thin lips.
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.
This time, Caleb took his time to answer. He watched intently as the man appeared tiredly, pinching his nose and running his hands through his disgusting hair. It was people like this that Caleb hated. Caleb noticed how he made the effort to distinguish that he had not invited him, personally, and that his staff had. But why? Because he didn't want his new students to think that he personally wanted them? To downgrade them? Caleb wouldn't have been surprised. He rubbed his dry palms along his pants, before he finally opened his lips to offer an answer. "My power?" He said, lightly, at first, with a slight smirk. "It's mind control." When the old, fat, disgusting man didn't reply within the allotted time, Caleb's smirk vanished. He shifted in his seat, looked over his shoulder to look at the clock. He'd only been in there for a few minutes. He turned back to the man, and decided he would expand on his power - not that he doubted the man knew. "It means that I can control someone. I experimented once, to see what the lengths of its powers are," Caleb explained, crossing his legs. "I think it develops over time. Because when I was younger, I could only implant ideas into someones mind. It wasn't necessarily control. But as I grew older, it grew stronger and stronger. To a point where I could completely control a person's being." Caleb rubbed his chin, almost thoughtfully, before chuckling. "It's amusing, in the least."
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?"
Caleb's reaction to talking about his family turned his face sour. His amused smirk disappeared in a matter of seconds, and suddenly - he was extremely reserved and apathetic. What could he say to this stranger? He didn't necessarily want to go to this school - it had been recommended. He could leave, right now, if he wanted. But then again, he couldn't. This place was his last chance. And he had to make it work. At least, now, he had the attention of the old, sour man. "I'm from Portland, Oregon," he started, rather drearily, looking up to the ceiling for a moment before returning to eye level. "You know, where it rains all the time. It's a pretty dismal place. I absolutely loathe it." He snorted, as if amused with his own comment, before rolling his shoulders as if too relax. "My mom and my dad aren't great people. My dad's a detective for the police force, so I didn't see much of him - and when I did, he was always asleep, or too engaged to even bother paying attention to me. Not that I wanted it, or anything." He added on hastily, before continuing. "I had a little sister, but she died when I was twelve. She was riding home from school on her bike and she was hit by a car. Hit and run. We never found out who killed her." His face turned sour, again. And he rolled his eyes apathetically. "But both of my parents are completely incompetent. And there's no point in talking about either of them."
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?"
Caleb's eyes narrowed as the man finally shifted, making himself comfortable in his chair. Almost subconsciously, he shifted his weight - as if that would help him be comfortable - but it only annoyed him further. With a light sigh, he raised his dark eyes again, and almost chuckled when the man said he would fit in. It was amusing, really, how easily people could be affected by charm and the way a person looked at them. But then the old man continued on to talk about his future. Caleb was caught off guard, but only for a second - so it wasn't long enough for the man to catch it. He deliberated for a moment, before letting a cool smile tug at the corners of his lips. "CEO of a company, a hard diligent worker," He said, with some amusement. "Isn't that what you want to hear?" He tacked on sarcastically. Truth was, he was thinking something along the lines of con man. Not that he would ever admit that.
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.
Caleb rolled his shoulders again, feeling the knots forming between his shoulder blades. He absolutely detested wasting his time - especially in a place like this. Caleb straightened himself again, as the man started talking about hobbies. Hobbies? How ridiculous. Caleb didn't have much hobbies, but he was sure he could improvise. What were somethings that seventeen year old boys did? Ideas rolled to his mind in a second, and he started toying with them, smiling lightly again at the man. "Hobbies? That's a pretty vague question," Caleb started, before raising a finger to his lips, pressing it against them as if he was in thought. "I read a lot. But not teenage, fantasy bull-shit like most other girls my age," Another light smirk. "I'm talking about cold, hard classics. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger. Stuff like that." He nodded lightly, before continuing. "I like writing, too. But that goes hand in hand with the reading. And I'm an avid chess player. I never lose." Caleb chuckled a little, as if to lighten the darkening mood. During his speech he had leaned a little forward in his chair. I mean, he was talking about himself for fifteen minutes. What else could be better?
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.
The sudden air of seriousness didn't translate well to Caleb. He was always serious - not that he acted like it. His light smirk didn't fade, though, and he maintained eye contact with the large man. The way he said it, he made it seem as though he didn't really believe in the supernatural. So Caleb leant forward again, crossing his lanky fingers in his lap with a smirk. "Let me ask you a question, sir." He sneered mockingly, before continuing. "Do you like being singled out? Among thousands of people?" Caleb didn't give him a chance to respond. He soon started his speech again. "Because I do. I always knew I was smarter than most other kids. I always knew I was special. The fact that I was singled out and raised above the mediocre human only makes it better - doesn't it? Now I have a chance to really stand out, and to make an impression. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, everyone will know my name. Caleb Smith. It's wonderful. Absolutely delightful, if I'm being plain honest."
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.
Caleb shifted, raising himself out of the wooden chair that he had been resting in for what felt like eternity. His bones felt tired, his muscles felt tired. He stretched a little bit, before raising his hand, and clasping the man's hand with a charming smile. The hand was clammy, and it enveloped his with ease. He detracted his hand when appropriate, and discreetly wiped the sweat off on his pants. "Pleasure to meet you too, sir." He said as politely as he could muster, with another fake smile. "And no. I think I understand everything quite perfectly." Caleb shifted, moving around the wooden chair that had served as a cage for fifteen minutes, and followed the receptionist, a light smile riding on his lips.
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[classy=app2]em. pacific. female.[/classy]
[classy=apptite]FACE CLAIM [/classy]
[url=http://eoas2.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile&user=caleb]EZRA MILLER[/url]
