Post by Vivienne Morgan Beauregard on Dec 27, 2011 19:55:22 GMT -5
[div style="background-image:[br"]url(http://i.imgur.com/ULgJh.png); border-top: solid 10px #616150; width: 400px; height: 17px; color: #504f4f; font-family: courier new; text-align: center; font-size: 12px; text-shadow: 0.1em 0.1em 0.1em white;]Vivienne Beauregard • Sophomore• Female • Heterosexual»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.
Arms folded, legs crossed, and expression annoyed, she wanted nothing more than to leave the room. She had not come willingly though, definitely not. The only reason she was in the bloody room was because her mother had all but forced her. Her brother didn’t help the case either, he had been eager for his little sister to finally find a place where she could fit in. Guess he doesn’t realize that she would never fit in.
Looking up at the principal for the first time since she entered the place, the girl perked a brow and stifled a laugh. This was going to be her new principal? The fat guy who was one hamburger away from having a heart attack? She rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her light hair. When he spoke, her mocking eyes locked onto his and she resisted the urge to see how well she could control her ability. Inhaling deeply, she began speaking in a lazy drawl, “My name is Vivienne Morgan Beauregard, hate my name, so everyone calls me Viv. I’m sixteen, a sophomore, my birthday was October 4th. Um, disorders? I’m anorexic and I cut myself.” Vivienne said the last line with acid, as if she hated saying it but couldn’t escape the fact.
»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.
At this, Vivienne clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back in the chair. The corner of her lips turned upwards and two simple words were spoken, “Mind control.” She watched his reaction and wasn’t surprised to see his eyes open and narrow in caution. She could practically hear the thoughts racing through his mind, was he being controlled at that moment? Did she abuse her power? The answer to that was yes. She did, quite often, in fact. The principal closed his eyes once more as Vivienne began describing the ability in detail, “It has it’s drawbacks though. Whenever I persuade someone to do something, I also feel the urge to follow my own commands. So, for example, if I persuade someone to cut themselves, I feel the need to cut myself as well. Get it?” After seeing no reaction out of him, Vivienne pursed her lips and continued, “I found out about my power when I was twelve. I killed my dad because of it.” When she said the last line, she didn’t even flinch. She’d hated her dad. He had deserved it.
»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?"
"Family." Vivienne inhaled through her teeth and exhaled in one loud huff, "Alright. I can tell you about my crappy family. I was born in Washington, first off. Marilyn is my mom and she is thirty-one. I call her Marilyn because she doesn't even act like a mother. She was sixteen when she had me. My dad? Yea, he bolted the moment he found out she was pregnant. Good for him, wish I could have ditched my family too. When my mom was twenty she adopted a boy named Ethan. He was twelve, so he was seven years older than me. He seemed like a gentlemen at first but it seemed looks were deceiving.
Anyway, when I was ten my brother became extremely controlling. Don't really know why, I think he was scared I would end up like my mom. Whatever. I tried going to a birthday party one Saturday and he kept me at home because he didn't like the said person. I tried to sneak out and go but he caught me when I was walking up the girl's driveway. He shoved me in the back seat, locked the doors, walked inside the house and cussed my friend out for being a bad influence on me. He drove me home after that. That next day he hit me. Saying that he was only trying to help me out and that I wasn't cooperating with him. He drank a lot and he abused me, both verbally and physically. He sexually abused me, as well. My brother always said that he was helping me become a better person. He was delusional. Where was Marilyn during this? Bah! She was on the couch, drinking vodka and laughing at Family Guy.
I met my dad when I turned twelve, that was also the year when I learned about my power. He came to the house to just catch up with Marilyn. Ethan had finished his abuse for the day and was spiking some punch Marilyn had made. My arms were just beginning to bruise and a nasty cut on my cheek oozed blood. I didn't want to open the door but Marilyn and Ethan weren't paying attention. James was handsome, no doubt, he had blonde hair and striking green eyes. I didn't know who he was at the time, but when I asked him he just stared at me. Guess he couldn't believe he'd have such a ugly daughter.
When he told me his name, it seemed I lost all focus. I started thinking about how he had left me to be raped and abused and controlled. How could he have left me? I didn't even notice Ethan walk up behind me. What I did notice though, was the pocket knife James had. I didn't know why he had it but I just got so angry that I started wishing he would pick it up and stab it into his own gut. Next thing I knew, I was saying in my head, 'Pick up the knife and kill yourself, idiot. You left me. You don't deserve to live.' I almost thought he could hear me, because he did what I said. He picked up the knife and unfolded it. He then pierced his own heart. Though pain was in his eyes, he couldn't stop." Vivienne paused for a moment, enjoying the attention she was receiving because of her life story. Sighing deeply, Vivienne became amused by the principal's anxious expression, but, nonetheless, she continued. "Something strange happened then. My hands started to itch with desire. It seemed my own fingers wanted to wrap around the knife and stab my own self. I almost started to reach for the knife when Marilyn walked into the room and screamed. Ethan had managed to drag her off the couch, miraculously.
What did I do? Nothing. I just stood there. In shock just as much as they were. I was sent to Juvy for two years. They saw that I had been abused so they thought James had done it. They technically thought I was just defending myself by stabbing him. But they couldn't let me go unpunished. No, that'd be a bad example to other kids.
And now I'm in this god-forsaken place. How's that for ya?" Throughout the entire time she told the man of her history, her face had remained impassive. Not a single emotion had revealed itself. Vivienne never let anyone see what she was feeling, it made her feel weak and vulnerable. She began tracing the puckered scars on her forearms while waiting for her next question.
»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?
“Uh, my future? I want to leave the joke of a woman that I have for a mother and I want to leave my abusive brother behind. I want to travel and be free, since it seemed like I was always being controlled and restrained."
»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.
"Hobbies, let's see. I'm an artist. I paint and sketch. But if you tell anyone, I swear. . . ." She let her threat hang in the air, knowing the principal would take it seriously.
»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.
“What do I like about having the power to control everyone I come in contact with? Hm, let’s see, everything. What’s not too love about having power? Yea. That’s what I thought. Absolutely nothing.”
»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.
Avoiding his hand, Vivienne backed towards the door, “No questions here. See ya.” And she scurried for the door.
Arms folded, legs crossed, and expression annoyed, she wanted nothing more than to leave the room. She had not come willingly though, definitely not. The only reason she was in the bloody room was because her mother had all but forced her. Her brother didn’t help the case either, he had been eager for his little sister to finally find a place where she could fit in. Guess he doesn’t realize that she would never fit in.
Looking up at the principal for the first time since she entered the place, the girl perked a brow and stifled a laugh. This was going to be her new principal? The fat guy who was one hamburger away from having a heart attack? She rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her light hair. When he spoke, her mocking eyes locked onto his and she resisted the urge to see how well she could control her ability. Inhaling deeply, she began speaking in a lazy drawl, “My name is Vivienne Morgan Beauregard, hate my name, so everyone calls me Viv. I’m sixteen, a sophomore, my birthday was October 4th. Um, disorders? I’m anorexic and I cut myself.” Vivienne said the last line with acid, as if she hated saying it but couldn’t escape the fact.
»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.
At this, Vivienne clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back in the chair. The corner of her lips turned upwards and two simple words were spoken, “Mind control.” She watched his reaction and wasn’t surprised to see his eyes open and narrow in caution. She could practically hear the thoughts racing through his mind, was he being controlled at that moment? Did she abuse her power? The answer to that was yes. She did, quite often, in fact. The principal closed his eyes once more as Vivienne began describing the ability in detail, “It has it’s drawbacks though. Whenever I persuade someone to do something, I also feel the urge to follow my own commands. So, for example, if I persuade someone to cut themselves, I feel the need to cut myself as well. Get it?” After seeing no reaction out of him, Vivienne pursed her lips and continued, “I found out about my power when I was twelve. I killed my dad because of it.” When she said the last line, she didn’t even flinch. She’d hated her dad. He had deserved it.
»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?"
"Family." Vivienne inhaled through her teeth and exhaled in one loud huff, "Alright. I can tell you about my crappy family. I was born in Washington, first off. Marilyn is my mom and she is thirty-one. I call her Marilyn because she doesn't even act like a mother. She was sixteen when she had me. My dad? Yea, he bolted the moment he found out she was pregnant. Good for him, wish I could have ditched my family too. When my mom was twenty she adopted a boy named Ethan. He was twelve, so he was seven years older than me. He seemed like a gentlemen at first but it seemed looks were deceiving.
Anyway, when I was ten my brother became extremely controlling. Don't really know why, I think he was scared I would end up like my mom. Whatever. I tried going to a birthday party one Saturday and he kept me at home because he didn't like the said person. I tried to sneak out and go but he caught me when I was walking up the girl's driveway. He shoved me in the back seat, locked the doors, walked inside the house and cussed my friend out for being a bad influence on me. He drove me home after that. That next day he hit me. Saying that he was only trying to help me out and that I wasn't cooperating with him. He drank a lot and he abused me, both verbally and physically. He sexually abused me, as well. My brother always said that he was helping me become a better person. He was delusional. Where was Marilyn during this? Bah! She was on the couch, drinking vodka and laughing at Family Guy.
I met my dad when I turned twelve, that was also the year when I learned about my power. He came to the house to just catch up with Marilyn. Ethan had finished his abuse for the day and was spiking some punch Marilyn had made. My arms were just beginning to bruise and a nasty cut on my cheek oozed blood. I didn't want to open the door but Marilyn and Ethan weren't paying attention. James was handsome, no doubt, he had blonde hair and striking green eyes. I didn't know who he was at the time, but when I asked him he just stared at me. Guess he couldn't believe he'd have such a ugly daughter.
When he told me his name, it seemed I lost all focus. I started thinking about how he had left me to be raped and abused and controlled. How could he have left me? I didn't even notice Ethan walk up behind me. What I did notice though, was the pocket knife James had. I didn't know why he had it but I just got so angry that I started wishing he would pick it up and stab it into his own gut. Next thing I knew, I was saying in my head, 'Pick up the knife and kill yourself, idiot. You left me. You don't deserve to live.' I almost thought he could hear me, because he did what I said. He picked up the knife and unfolded it. He then pierced his own heart. Though pain was in his eyes, he couldn't stop." Vivienne paused for a moment, enjoying the attention she was receiving because of her life story. Sighing deeply, Vivienne became amused by the principal's anxious expression, but, nonetheless, she continued. "Something strange happened then. My hands started to itch with desire. It seemed my own fingers wanted to wrap around the knife and stab my own self. I almost started to reach for the knife when Marilyn walked into the room and screamed. Ethan had managed to drag her off the couch, miraculously.
What did I do? Nothing. I just stood there. In shock just as much as they were. I was sent to Juvy for two years. They saw that I had been abused so they thought James had done it. They technically thought I was just defending myself by stabbing him. But they couldn't let me go unpunished. No, that'd be a bad example to other kids.
And now I'm in this god-forsaken place. How's that for ya?" Throughout the entire time she told the man of her history, her face had remained impassive. Not a single emotion had revealed itself. Vivienne never let anyone see what she was feeling, it made her feel weak and vulnerable. She began tracing the puckered scars on her forearms while waiting for her next question.
»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?
“Uh, my future? I want to leave the joke of a woman that I have for a mother and I want to leave my abusive brother behind. I want to travel and be free, since it seemed like I was always being controlled and restrained."
»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.
"Hobbies, let's see. I'm an artist. I paint and sketch. But if you tell anyone, I swear. . . ." She let her threat hang in the air, knowing the principal would take it seriously.
»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.
“What do I like about having the power to control everyone I come in contact with? Hm, let’s see, everything. What’s not too love about having power? Yea. That’s what I thought. Absolutely nothing.”
»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.
Avoiding his hand, Vivienne backed towards the door, “No questions here. See ya.” And she scurried for the door.
ROWAN • SEVENTEEN • LADEH!
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