Application: Blair Waldorf, from "Gossip Girl"

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

((For the record, Blair's canon is going to be from the television series version of Gossip Girl, not the books.))

What kind of school hired ugly little midgets for their bellboys?

Honestly, Blair couldn't stop looking back at the things with some kind of curious disgust. They had these giant ears and huge noses and what were they wearing? Knapsacks? At least the Waldorf mansion had housekeepers paid enough to be able to afford their own clothing. Dorota was nice, actually. Not a midget. Normal-sized ears. Laid out her clothes and everything. And did something weird with cleaners that had her room smelling like vanilla rather than Lysol - what was not to love?

So, another country. Scotland, to be precise. Land of constitutional monarchy, St. Andrew's cross, and Irvine Welsh. Another boarding school. This place was no Constance Billard, that was for sure. At least it was all that closer to her father's chateau in France, him and his boyfriend Giles. She had to wonder how Ping and Pong were doing. She hadn't seen him in so long.

The school, though, that's where it had gotten interesting. Magic? A certain Eleanor Waldorf had not been happy to hear about this little number, taking off for a new boarding school. Prestigious, still, and something to help boost that interview to get into Yale, she was sure.



1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?

Okay, not exactly the first question she expected on... a school application. She'd neatly scrawled out Blair Cornelia Waldorf at the top and let her eyes traipse down to that. Cheese? What the hell kind of school asked about cheese choice? Blair glanced over her shoulder for a moment, noise crinkled in question to the room surrounding her. "Right." And, of course, jumped as the Dictaquill sprang into action.

This place really was magic, wasn't it?

"Camembert?" she said experimentally, as the quill skated across the paper, writing out her words. God, that was handy - saved her from hand cramps and was definitely easy on the French manicure. "If you're a cheese person anyway. Serena says that a slice of that stuff with a glass of milk is a step closer to heaven. But she's also crazy. So, you know."


2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?

"Oh, God, both of them," she declared at once, frowning down at her paper and trying not to pay attention to the fact that this was definitely a little more Facebook survey than important school application. "When I was a kid, I always though if I heard 'I Love You' one more time, I was going to gag someone. And Carrottop is... pretty self-explanatory."

After a moment's consideration, she tapped a finger to her chin, eyebrow cocked. "Throw in what's-her-face too. The one who wanted to perfect Judaeism? Anne Coulter. They can all go to the stake and see if anybody cares."


3. What time is it where you are?

...Well, that one was easy. "Four thirty in the afternoon." At least that was what the Rolex said.


4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.

If she was who come back from the what? And she was doing...? "I... seriously doubt the first thing on a zombies mind is who they're going to boink first," she remarked scathingly, tapping her fingers against the paper and studying the answer as the Dictaquill scrawled it out. "If the person coming back from the dead was Britney Spears? Well, maybe, and we'd have to deal with zombie babies running around and hanging off a zombie boy toy of the week while Zombie Spears gets a zombie Brazilian butt lift. But, otherwise?"


5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.

She'd always wanted to bartend. Ever since her and Serena had seen Coyote Ugly anyway. And they'd fawned over Tyra Banks and how fantastic she'd looked in her whole ten minutes in the movie, and made plans to work at a bar and become their very own singer-songwriters. For about a week. Until, of course, they'd had an Angel marathon and lusted after vampires instead of bar wenches for a while.

"Maybe not tending the bar," she mused slowly, eyes glittering at the memory. "Maybe I'd be the one dancing on stage. At The Victrola." Er. "No, cross out that last part." Stupid Chuck, she wasn't stepping foot into that place again, she didn't care whatever rush she got. "Queen B's." Satisfaction!


B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.

Oh, look. Triangles involving gay men from European countries. Story of her freaking life.

Well, not hers specifically but definitely like somebody's she knew.

"Maybe Harry shouldn't go anywhere, and he should stay with the person he's with already and not go running off to some fancy French love nest and adopt Cambodian twins and live happily ever after while his ex goes crazy and starts dating some fat old guy that nobody likes," she vented in one long breath, watching the Dictaquill skate across the page to try to catch up with her words as she brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

Er.

"God, I don't know. Harry's a big boy, I'm sure. He can figure out what boys he's going to take away to his harem on his own."


C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.

"Because... you don't own a paper shredder?" she commented lightly, shrugging her shoulders. "Because somebody's sneaking papers onto your desk when you're not looking?" She rolled her eyes. "Because your name is Nate Archibald and you're at the bottom of our class because you never finish anything homework-related." ...Obviously.


D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

What? Okay, not useless. "Um. Blair Waldorf," she said evenly, in a matter of factual voice. If that wasn't enough, "Top of my class at one of the most prestigious schools in the United States. President of practically every club in the damn place. Head of the popularity food chain and subject of most of everything Gossip Girl has to offer on her site." If you ignored all the 'S's that popped up on there and just stuck to the 'B's, anyway. "Believe me. The last thing I am? Is useless."


6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.

Oh, God, what. Bribes, always. If being a Waldorf wasn't enough to get you into anywhere, paying somebody off would be enough. "What are we looking for here, a donation?" she asked lightly, eying her Prada handbag and eying the paper. "A hundred, a thousand?" Ten thousand? Wasn't like she couldn't afford it. "Or, if you have any interest in hardly-used Louis Vuitton luggage?"



"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. BCW
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one mostsome? of them. BCW
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. More like satin culottes. I don't do granny panties, thanks! BCW
One day, marmaladeI will probably rule the world. BCW

Comments

Vote: Squib

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

Oh Lordy. Chris Hargenson all over again. No.

Carrie hit her with the

and left.

Re: Vote: Squib

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Which was. ...You know, kind of weird. Stares weren't much to bother the girl who'd practically invented the look of 'I hate you in capital letters', but this girl kind of weirded her out a bit.

She definitely wasn't in Kansas anymore.

[wh0-kill3d-m3.livejournal.com]

Laura grinned at the answer to the sexual harassment question.

"Money? Did somebody mention money?" She raised an eyebrow. "I like money."

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Of course she liked money. ...Who didn't like money?

"That's... fascinating," Blair offered slowly, subtly letting her eyes flicker up and down Laura's outfit for a moment, with a hint of dubiousness, before her eyes finally landed on the girl's in front of her. "I do too?" She extended a hand instead, the sunny smile she'd perfected automatically in place for Prospective Heads of Schools. "Hi. Blair Waldorf. And you are?"

[ringoate-mybaby.livejournal.com]

"Yeah." Oz said in response to the Gryffindor question. "Harry... really should try not to do that."

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Harry should... try not to follow in the footsteps of Blair Waldorf's father. Yes, most people should. It ... probably wasn't a threat, so far as the course of people's lives usually went, though. "It's a general rule, I think," she commented lightly, leaning back in her chair. "Not to run off to France with some gay lover and leaving everything else behind, at least. I wouldn't recommend it."

[rogue-nebari.livejournal.com]

"Can't say I know who the frell a Blair Waldorf is supposed to be," Chiana says in that cheery tone that may or may not be bitchiness under a veneer. "But I'll never say no to cash. Gimme some of that, yeah?"

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Chiana's comment automatically garnered her one of those smiles, the ones Blair had so very much perfected over the course of her high school years. Oh, yes, it was entirely friendly and warm and inviting. Unless, you know, one knew Blair, and that the look in question was really just her best way of saying she would love to punch something right now.

"A Blair Waldorf would be me. The one and only," she offered, smarmily, sitting up a little in her seat. Her eyes flickered subconsciously down Chiana's... outfit, if it could be called that, before landing back onto Chiana's own. "I'm sorry, demanding money before I even know your name? Is a little rude."

[pullo-xiii.livejournal.com]

Why, hello there! Pullo was perfectly content to ignore everything that had come out of her mouth because he didn't understand most of it. The Spice Girls and prostitutes were pretty much the extent of Titus Pullo's understanding of modern culture. "Welcome to Hogwarts!" he told her chest.

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Like Blair wasn't used to the attention drawn directly to Somewhere Not Her Eyes. She'd been friends with Chuck "I've Been Having Sex Since Grade School" Bass. She smiled, ducking her head a little to attempt to catch some semblance of eye contact. "Thank you!" she replied in turn, offering a hand to shake. "I'm Blair. Blair Waldorf. And you are?"

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

Camilla Macaulay Winter, her grandmother's granddaughter through and through, read through the application without batting an eye. This girl might or might not be the sort of person Camilla wouldn't have given the time of day at Hampden, but it sounded as though she came from a decent family, for some values of decent. Camilla would see. If she pretended to be from the Waldorf-Astoria Waldorfs, Camilla would have to stifle laughter, because everyone knew that hotel was named after William Waldorf Astor, and there had been no Mr. Waldorf.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Camilla Winter. It's nice to meet you," and she held out a hand, simple and straightforward. She might have said a few words on Camembert, given a token vote and left it at that, were it not for the fact her twin came bounding in and caught sight of the two. Actually he caught sight of his sister. The other person wasn't of immediate interest.

"Milly. I've been looking everywhere for you. What did you do with my tennis racket?"

"Gosh, I don't know. I think it's all in a pile somewhere. Blair, this is my brother, Charles Macaulay. Charles, this is a new applicant to Hogwarts, Blair Waldorf."

"Well, how do you do, Blair Waldorf," said Charles, with a friendly smile. If he'd ignored Blair before in his haste, now he gave her his full attention. He was a genuinely friendly person; he genuinely liked people; and he was much less likely to snub anyone than his sister was. "Did you come here by choice or are you in the Twilight Zone?"

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Finally, people whose first words weren't concerning money or directed towards her breasts. Honestly, she was beginning to think she'd been landed in a world of perverts who hadn't two pennies to rub together because they'd blown it on... porn, hookers and booze, or however the story went. Did civility not exist anymore? That was entirely disappointing - she did so pride herself on her own.

"Camilla," she repeated with a smile, shaking the extended hand. She was definitely beautiful, in that kind of effortless, sunny way that Serena exuded. Blair wasn't sure whether to recognize that heartily or to keep herself wary. "It's very nice to meet you as well."

Of course, attention automatically crossing to the newcomer. Her brother? So much pretty, and all compacted into one family. Okay, so she was a little jealous. And probably let her smile slip closer to the territory of amicable than she had been just a moment before. "Just fine, and yourself, Charles Macaulay?" she replied in turn, with a bit of a laugh. "Considering the plane ticket was paid for, I'm entirely sure I came here by choice. Is... there much in the neighborhood of people not coming here... by choice?"

[fabernathy.livejournal.com]

Gosh, Francis had to start coming to the Sorting Room more often. He was finding out the most fascinating things. "What's this 'Gossip Girl?'" he asked, eyes glinting with interest behind his pince-nez.

He would get into the Louis Vuitton later.

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Of course he wouldn't know Gossip Girl. It was mostly based around New York. Manhattan. The Constance Billard School for Girls and the St. Jude's School for Boys, specifically. Practically every student in either school had the site bookmarked, watched, and successfully stalked. Including Blair. Who was foregoing the lack of introduction for the topic - what could she say? She was an addict.

"Gossip Girl holds the information of everybody who's anybody, basically," she returned with a nod, a mild sort of smile crossing her face. "Who's shopping where, who's slept with who. Celebrity gossip, on a smaller scale, and thankfully without Joan Rivers or anybody associated."

VOTE: Squib

[charlesofdensen.livejournal.com]

Oh, god, not another one of those ultra-rich snobs that think they're better than anyone without any sort of justification.

(http://photobucket.com)

[vislor-turlough.livejournal.com]

"Here, being a Waldorf doesn't mean anything. Nor does being a Turlough, luckily. However, money does mean something." Turlough gave her a glare. "How much is a vote worth to you?"

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

"Being a Waldorf means everything if the money belongs to said Waldrofs," Blair observed mildly, her eyes flashing once, half out of irritation, as she eyed her newcomer. It didn't last long, though - Blair Waldorf never let herself get undercut by just anybody. "One vote out of many doesn't tend to carry so much weight, so I suppose the real question is how much are you willing to gamble, to ask for, before I turn you down?"

[kamikazejudy.livejournal.com]

A rich girl! Better yet, for Judy, a rich spoiled girl. Judy could barely contain her squeeing because she knew the sort of habits rich girls had and it was about damn time that she found someone new to do lines with since she hadn't seen Richard in ages.

"Hi, I'm Judy Poovey, out of California," she said cheerfully, offering one well, if not brightly, manicured hand, "I go to Hampden College up in the Northeast."

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Blair nearly choked on her own words. She? Went to Hampden College? Blair offered a forced, entirely fake smile, probably one entirely pitying. Can you say 'charity case'?

"Blair Waldorf," she returned, clasping Judy's hand and shaking firmly, without backing down at the... rather bright nails. "Hampden College, you say? Really? I've heard of it. My mother suggested it as a backup school." As if she needed a backup for Yale. She was a shoe-in.

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

Oh man, did Steph smell a high-school drama queen? In the past few months, she'd been to sortings of aliens, time travelers, and mullet-men. But not just a regular, overprivledged teenager.

"Who's Louis Vuitton?" Steph asked, cheerfully. Was he a game show host? He sounded like a game show host.

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Who... Did she just seriously ask that? Who's Louis Vuitton? "The company?" she asked point blankly, staring at Steph in disbelief. "Manufactures bags? Named after its founder? Louis Vuitton?" Was she kidding?

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

...oh God, this is HER. Well, if she'd been richer when she was alive, anyway. Mel blinks at the answer to the penultimate question. Blair Waldorf did not ring any bells. There might have been a Waldorf at school, but he was a ginger and poor even for Meadow Hill standards. Maybe she's just nervous? That doesn't bring out the best in people.

The angel flashes a hundred-watt smile at the girl as she takes the safe option out. 'Cornelia? Pretty name.'

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Blair flashed a smile right back, one that could almost be construed as friendly to an outsider. She was every shade of polite, from years of living in Manhattan's Upper East Side, but sincerity wasn't exactly a strong point, not unless she really cared to mean it. "My mother seemed to think so, at least," she commented lightly, eyebrows raised. "Of course, it means 'horn'. In Latin. Not entirely sure how 'pretty' that can be received as."

[dinosaurman.livejournal.com]

To be fair, he actually read the application before walking out of the room. That was thirty seconds out of his life that Grant would never get back, and now on top of it, he wanted a salad. He was bout to set the piece of paper back down on the table and leave when he noticed her handbag, and an idea popped into his head. Maybe the trip hadn't been a complete waste.

"Do you have a pen?" he asked her.

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

...Okay. Of all the requests someone could have made upon first meeting another person. Nothing crass or demanding, involving sex or money. Just... a pen. Blair remained silent for a moment, eyebrow arched in question, before she grasped for his handbag.

"Yes, I do," she replied in turn, almost a little slowly, as if she wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do with said pen. Steal it? Wouldn't be a problem, the things only cost about a dollar a pack. Stab her with it? Well, that would be a bit of a stickier situation, in which Grody Older Man was going to realize the full extent of those karate classes Blair took not too long ago.

Still, she handed out the pen with a shrug, and a wolfish smile.

[bantersucks.livejournal.com]

Jaime's first impulse upon reading the app was to walk the hell away. But curiosity beat out good sense when he read the Hufflepuff question. "Wait, if you're top of your class, head of the food chain, whatever - what are you doing here?"

It was a valid question. Tomo had been accepted, after all.

[hellminxmel.livejournal.com]

'Definitely gonna have to ask that,' Maia drawls, coming up behind him, gaze focusing on Blair--well, flickering to Mel and then back again. Hell, she'd been sent here on a mission and even she wasn't trying to rule the school.

'After all, you're only human. You're pretty much nothing here.'

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

"We can always use donations to the Pickles Fund!" the Hat said cheerily. "What's Gossip Girl?"

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

It... talking hat. They actually had... a magical, talking hat. Had somebody slipped something in her drink? Because... yes. Hat and all that. Blair paused for a few long seconds, furrowing her eyebrows at the Hat with a bit of a slack jaw. "Gossip Girl... Well. Website, you know how it is. Gossip of who's who in Upper East Manhattan. Everybody looks at it." Blah blah blah, she wanted to get down to business. "I'm sorry, Pickles Fund? You're a talking hat."

Slytherin!

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

Your bribe has been accepted!

Welcome to Slytherin!