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

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

At least he was talking to someone of his size. Although Blair, having lived in the Waldorf 'estate', as her mother so humbly referred to it as, for the entirety of her life, with the only side stops really being hotels that cost a thousand or so a night... probably didn't get the implications of living in a van. Actually, she was pretty sure the only people who did were hobos. And Jewel.

Blair smirked. "Winking to be had would require a shotgun to said winking party, I think." Or... a simple turn-down. Still, Blair managed to accompany her bitter comment with a smile that... could maybe be construed as sweet. To the blind. Come on, though, snap and point? Who did that?

[ringoate-mybaby.livejournal.com]

Actually, that was fairly accurate. When Oz was on the road, was he considered a hobo? Just because he had no home, did that make him homeless? Was his identity defined by who people thought he was, or who he knew himself to be? Huh.

Back to reality, Oz was enjoying his conversation with Blair at the moment. He nodded in agreement at her comment. "Seems fair, since they're aiming at you with a pistol. So... do you have a House in mind?"

[queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com]

Considering mostly, so far as Blair was concerned, people who shopped anywhere lesser than Neiman Marcus were hobos... Yeah, Oz probably definitely fit under that category.

"Metaphorically," she observed with a pointed look, forgetting the whole homeless person thing for the time being and getting down to business instead. House. Finally. It wasn't as if she wasn't raised on making pointless chit chat, but everybody was a fan of it here, weren't they? "House?" Hadn't really thought about it. Or knew about it, at all. "Depending on what's the best one."

[ringoate-mybaby.livejournal.com]

Yeah. Metaphorically. Oz considered that to be obvious, but who knows? Blair was from New York. Violent place. Oz probably did not have a lot of appreciation for metaphorical fangs, himself.

Oz shrugged at her question. "There isn't one, really. Depends on what you make of it." Oz was a former Gryffindor Prefect. A bad former Gryffindor Prefect.