cyrus garrett alabaster

cyrus garrett alabaster Dec 8, 2011 21:15:31 GMT -5

Post by cyrus garrett alabaster on Dec 8, 2011 21:15:31 GMT -5

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CYRUS GARRETT ALABASTER

{style=width: 501px; background-color: 141414; font-size: 10px; padding: 5; font-family: garamond; color: 7a6252; text-transform: uppercase; text-align:justify; letter-spacing: 1; border-top: 10px solid #0f0f0f; border-bottom: 10px solid #0f0f0f;}"Hello! my name is Merideth Charleston and I am the Dean here at Ashes School of the Gifted. We will gladly accept you with open arms, but first... what is your name?"[/style]

"hands off, ass." there was a loud growl as the door opened. a boy stood there, a large man behind him in a black suit. "back off or i'm going to force you to swallow the pen, got it?" his voice came out as a growl as he closed the door on the man's face and sat down in the seat, looking up at merideth. "oh, someone call some skin care help! this woman has some issues with her face." he snickered and let out a sigh, raising a solitary eyebrow at the woman. he then propped his feet up on her desk, inspecting his nails. "cyrus alabaster. previously kicked out of eighteen schools. in counting, actually. my parents sent me here and thought it'd be enlightening." he snorted. "girls were just jealous they couldn't sleep with this. i don't blame them." he dug in his pockets and pulled out a cigarette and lit it quickly. "do you mind?" he muttered, not even looking at her. he sat in the chair so his legs hung over the arm and lolled is head back, breathing out the smoke through his nose. "i'm seventeen, almost eighteen. my birthday's in september twenty-first." he waved the hand with the cigarette without a care at the ashes falling to the floor. "seriously, you don't have these on records?"

he turned his head to the side and looked at her with a smug expression. "you just want to hear me speak about myself, don't you? damn cougar." he blew a puff of smoke towards the woman and snickered before settling back into the seat. his green eyes scanned the room out of boredom. his eyes were sometimes a green or a blue. he didn't know why, but that's what happened. he moved some of his brown hair out of his face and he let out a soft sigh, taking another drag of his 'ette. "probably can't tell, but i'm six foot three. i'm also one hundred and fifty pounds of absolute sex." he grinned, flashing his teeth. he was pretty muscular, since he used to play football, but he wasn't over the top.

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he let out a sigh, putting out his cigarette on her desk and left it on there. a small trail of smoke curled in the air from the dying flame. "i think that's a bit personal, isn't it?" his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "not to mention, you have records. look me up, baby." he gave her a wink before he sat up, pointing at her. he gave her a glare with his eyes. "if this leaves the room, i will come back for you. do you see that pen right there?" he grinned. "you get the gist, don't you?" yeah, that's right. he threatened the dean of the school. but did he care? nope.

"i was born on west lake street. chicago, illinois. the crime rate there is one in four people. unbelievable, right? yeah. well, i lived with my father my whole life. i never knew my mother. whenever i asked my father about her, he would always look the other way. i never got particularly bothered with it...

"growing up in chicago taught me to be street smart. i had to be, or else i'd get killed. that's done and said. every night there were sirens, there were flashing lights. i had to learn to sleep heavy or else i'd never be able to wake up in the morning. even so, i never really went to school. i never cared for school, probably never will." he closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to his lips. he shook his head and drummed his fingers on his lips. "i got shot once at school. there was a school shooting. i was trying to help everyone, but got shot. in the shoulder; it's no big deal. i mean, i never really felt it. my father went berserk and moved me into a different school. that's one, isn't it? the next school, after i had healed, i got into drugs. when i got shot, i was about twelve. so you can say i got into drugs when i was thirteen." he shrugged nonchalantly. "drugs are drugs. they make me feel better when nothing can. well, that's a lie. sex can, but drugs can sometimes be easier to get, do you understand what i'm saying?" he looked at merideth's blank stare. "guess not. wait, you're telling me you haven't had drugs?" he sat up, grinning. "let me guess: you're a virgin, too? i wouldn't be surprised. seeing as you look like something's stuck up your ass and you can't get it out."

he sat back and looked up at the ceiling. talking down to a faculty member never bothered him. he didn't care about authority. he grew up on practically no authority. his father was a drunk, but once cyrus got into alcohol, they started to be "drink buddies." "i got into the usual: weed, cigarettes, and alcohol. occasionally i'd try other things, but they didn't really get me as hype. so let me tell you: if you do not allow me to have an 'ette, i will fuck you and this whole damn place up." he pointed to her lazily. "i will reign down on you so hard, you'll shit bricks n' anvils." he glared at her before he continued his story.

"well, long story short, i got sent here because i had sex with a teacher. not to mention, someone got freaked out when a paperclip randomly got stabbed in their hand. what can i say? i'm attract trouble. but i've never really had a problem with it."

he waved a hand in the air at the next question. "sweetheart, if you wanted a ride, you could have asked." then he cocked his head. "but the answer would still be no. you're not my type. i'm not into older women." he shook his head and closed his eyes.

even if he liked girls, he sometimes liked boys as well. though he enjoyed to keep the term, 'in the closet'. he wasn't going to let anyone know that he got a bit weak in the knees for the same gender.

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"christ, the more you ask about me, the more i want to tell you to fuck off." he let out a soft growl and sat normally in the chair, taking his hand out and facing his palm up. the pen in the pencil holder flew into the air before landing on his palm. "yes, i'm gifted. remember when i told you about the paperclip? i have the ability to control metal. what the hell is the name of it? ... oh, hell if i know. i'm still recovering from a hangover." he pointed to his head tiredly. "got any asprin? oh, guess not. you're a bit of a stickler, you know." he snickered a bit before he closed his eyes. "i'm exactly like magneto from x-men. not like i watched that movie, i just thought it was cool i had the same power." he shrugged. "the manipulation of metal. i can shape it, bring it to me, whatever. and in this age, it's incredibly helpful because almost everything's made out of metal. so, in a way, i have many, many, many ways of killing people." he smirked. "not like i think about that kind of stuff..." he watched her skeptical look. "grew up in chicago, woman, grew up to think like that, remember?" he rolled his eyes. "can't take a joke, either. are you even alive? look at yourself! you're like a carcass trained to sit up and look at things."

he pursed his lips. "i guess you can say i have a bit of a temper. i'm also arrogant. i don't care what people think about me. i know i am incredibly handsome. i know people look at me when i walk by. it just depends whether or not i have an interest in them." he shuffled in his pockets before he let out a very colorful curse. "no fucking cigarettes. alright, i honestly hate it when i run out of cigarettes." he let out a groan. "i hate it when i can't have a smoke. i hate it when people doubt what i can do. i also hate it when there are incredibly, stupidly cheery people around. not everything is happy! just calm yourself down, please. a huge pet peeve is when people tell me drugs are bad. you don't think i fucking know that? i do it because i helps me feel better. i might die quicker but it's never bothered me. not once. i've been shot and lived. i think i can deal with a cigarette." he snorted, putting a hand over his mouth.

"i very much like sex. sex is a part of life, it's what everyone will do in their life--unless you're merideth charleston," he added with a chortle. "i just do it more often than everyone else.

"yes, i think i'm a charming guy," he said suddenly. "i can be fun and have a good sense of humor. it's just half the time i'm not in a good mood. it take a special kind of person to make cyrus happy. and yes, i referred to myself in the third person. problem?"

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his lips parted and he looked at her, exasperated. he wanted to get angry, but he kept it to himself this time. he felt as if he had complained enough to her today. "i want world fucking peace." he stood up and leaned on her desk, looking at her straight in the eye. "my goal will be getting out of here and finding what really happened to my mother. it's what i've always wanted to do and it's what i will do." he put her pen on the table gently and stood back. "right, you've heard enough about me. if i see your pugly face in my window, i'm not going to be gentle and kicking you to the ground." he gave her a last smile before he walked to the door and left.

it wasn't long before shouting commenced in the hallway.

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made by brooklyn at caution
and redone by pledgling[/center]

Ashes Ashes

cyrus garrett alabaster

Post by cyrus garrett alabaster on Dec 8, 2011 21:15:31 GMT -5

Post by PLEDGLING on Dec 9, 2011 17:35:02 GMT -5