hh_mirror

To say that Nathaniel Archibald, son and heir to Anne and Howie 'The Captain' Archibald, was sleeping on the long wooden table would be not entirely accurate. Nate Archibald was unconscious on the long wooden table.

You can't blame the teen for partying too hard; a typical Upper East Side BYOB is BYOX, BYOGHB, and of course BYOBFF to guard your drink. And if your father took to calling himself the Captain, could you really be surprised if you found yourself toking up a few times ~~a weekend~~?

((OOC: Nate is based off the show Gossip Girl, rather than the Gossip Girl book series. In the show, Gossip Girl exists both as a teen gossip site with a snarky, anonymous administrator, and she exists as an omniscient narrator who makes satirical observations while the main characters stumble through the follies of life. To fit the style of Nate's canon, Gossip Girl, as a narrator, has a strong voice in this application. Her voice is not Nate's internal monologue, nor can she be heard by other characters, as she is not "real," but a stylistic device.

Furthermore, this application contains HUGE spoilers for season one of Gossip Girl, up to and including "Roman Holiday".))

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

There was no articulate answer for the first question for quite some time. Instead, the first several inches of the parchment were filled by the common but inaccurate onomatopoeia: 'Zzzzzzzzzz...' Nate remained, as he often was, oblivious, until the tickling at his nose grew too irritating to ignore. Nate sneezed and turned his head in the other direction. He thought he asked for five more minutes, but what was written on the parchment was "Cross two continents." He fell back into his doze, but then the tickling returned. Was that a... feather? He wouldn't put it past Chuck to have a boa somewhere in his suite (scarf or snake) but did he have to hang it on his couch?

A drowsy hand shot out and smacked the unfortunate quill, which toppled to the desk. It didn't make a sound, but Nate began to wake up anyway. "Mmm... can I have a coffee, cream and sugar on the side? One French omelet, too. Make that with toast." He swallowed his yawn as he pushed himself upright, blinking open his blurry eyes. "Thanks." Nate Archibald was a gentleman; he knew to thank the help and tip them generously. He looked into the darkness of the sorting room, appearing completely exhausted. He did not hear a reply, which helped Nate realize that he was actually alone. He rubbed a hand over his face. He thought...

Nate looked dumbly at the application parchment. He was either confused or bemused. He sought to answer the first question, which was a bit hard since the dizzy boy could barely remember his PIN, let alone the variety of international cheeses. Eventually he settled on the first cheese that came to mind: "Monterey Jack."

Ah, childhood. A simpler time, when Saturday mornings were spent watching the adventures of talking cartoon rodents. While riding in a limousine to your playdate , of course. Even chipmunks have to network, and the rich and famous have no time to spare for Disney... unless we're talking brunch with Eisner.

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

Nate's eyes were closed again, his chin resting on a closed fist. It wasn't until he heard the scratching of the quill that he realized that his answer, and the rest of his half-asleep mumbles, were being written down automatically by a... feather? Nate was surprised. He still had no idea what was going on, but that was not new to the teenager. Waking up not knowing where he was or how he got there was also not entirely special. But he should have remembered by now. This time, Nate followed his mother's tactics when threatened with chaos and uncertainty... he acted as if everything was alright while waiting for the world to straighten again. And this odd questionnaire, with its anachronistic (and robotic?) quill, was something tangible to connect to.

"Carrottop," Nate stated, eyes smoldering with unexpressed fury. Or maybe it was annoyance?

3. What time is it where you are?

He stared at the question for a moment, and then automatically looked at his wrist. It took a while for Nate to realize that the reason his watch displayed a dull olive screen wasn't due to his blurry eyes, but rather because of technological deficiency.

Aw, don't be too disappointed, N. Money buys money, not quality. And it's not like it was Swiss. At least now you know your inebriation is of your own making, or else someone would be making off with your $1000 watch.

"Um..." 'What time is it where you are?' Nate felt like the latter half of the question was actually more relevant to his emotional wellbeing. Last thing he remembered, he had been sleeping off a night of drugs and drinking in Monaco with Chuck. But he didn't take anything heavy. Not enough for Nate to completely forget where he was. Was he in another part of one of Chuck's hotels? Had Nate been kidnapped by Scientologists and was now being audited? If he spotted Jenna Elfman he was getting the hell out of here.

But he would have anyways. Her eyes were scarily intense.

"The... The morning," he guessed.

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.

Nate stood up from the table, but then sat back down after feeling like the sorting room's door was moving further and further out of reach. Normally it did not take him this long to recover; what was in that hash? Even if he could get to the door, it would be a bad idea to be seen. With a dad in rehab, this was the last thing the Archibald family needed. That and a dinner date with the Lohans. Or the Cruises. That last thought caused Nate to glance around again in paranoia.

The next question convinced Nate that, yes, he was still high. The young man let out a genuine laugh at the question, causing a grin to break out across the normally inexpressive features. "You're disgusting," he said with amusement. And then the smile was gone. Like Dumbledore's respectability.

Nate perhaps should not be the one to answer this question. His only brief moment of bachelorhood since preschool lasted two weeks, and ended a week ago. After a romantic gesture, our B and N were back to carving their hearts in the middle of trees and K-I-S-S-I-N-G. But now let us return to a less thorny area; Nate's own inebriated mind.

He pondered the question for a moment, and began. "As Albus Dumbledore," he carefully laid out (there's a good boy. Don't forget the parachute), "I think I'd go for Tonks."

Good choice there. Why choose one girl when you can go for all possible combinations, right, Archibald?

5. If you are pushing to be in:

Nate, push? Only when his family is close to breaking. Otherwise he just waits expectantly for things to either crumble or fall into his lap- Oops! Sorry, Serena.

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

An Archibald, tending bar for anything excluding a charity event? Not likely... even unlikelier anyone would trust them around their alcohol now, thanks to the Captain.

Nate, however, enjoyed the image. Screw it all, he was going to trade cashmere for cotton and highlights for lowlifes and bartend his little rebellious heart out.

A thought led Nate to a bitter turn, and he said quietly, "The Sinking Ship."

That name doesn't just apply to your family fortunes, Nate. Hasn't H.M.S Nate/Blair sprung a few leaks? Maybe you should check on that.

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.

Well, that severely limited the number of countries Nate could be residing in.

‘sos C- i m kidnap by Scientologists.’
‘sos C- i m in Canada. :(’

But all joking aside, marriage is a touchy subject for our hero at the moment. He just barely dodged engaging himself to his sweetheart, Blair Waldorf. Funny, normally it's the bride's parents with the shotgun...

Therefore Nate was likely give Harry advice on how to dodge that lethal bullet of marital bliss. But then again, Nate was more apt to beg for advice than to give it. From Blaire, Serena, Chuck, some little matchgirl he found in the street... Unfortunately, Nate is too self-centered to realize that his intricate network of playmates might have agendas of their own.

"Isn't Harry Potter twelve years old anyway? I'm not answering that. It's too weird." He rested his forehead against his fingertips and took in a breath. And then he spoke, if only because he liked watching the feather move. "Fred." But he forgot to add the bit about mythology, so half-marks.

Is that the work of a Dartmouth man, Nathaniel Archibald?

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.

"Well, from my experience, work goes along better once you cut down on your crack cocaine." Nate said with irritation. He wasn't expecting anyone to read what he now assumed to be a children's toy, but oh, his parents would not like that one. It would be another example of whatever they decided to define as Nate's 'rash actions,' which were convenient for transporting blame away from themselves and onto teenage son.

Really, Mr. and Mrs. Archibald, Nate has his own abundant set of screw-ups to muddle through, there's no need to add to them. And you really should be more appreciative of your son, after he garnered you such good publicity.

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

"Ouch. Harsh." The question made Nate feel like getting high again. His father's recent suicide attempt had ingrained into Nate the dangers of feeling useless... and how easily it is for a man born into wealth and prosperity to succumb to it. He said in a professional, mature, practiced tone, "My name is Nate Archibald. I am the captain of St. Jude's lacrosse team, and..."

And really, the colors of black and yellow would suit Nate Archibald completely. Have you ever seen a purer WASP in your life? His name is Nathaniel, for god's sake.

"...I know CPR," he added.

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.

Nate Archibald knew the basics of what a boy had to know about money: How to calculate a 20% tip in triple digits, how to access your trust fund, and how to use the right tone to take to your financial adviser when you discover your account to be emptied because your father was snorting your college money up his nose.

(But you would have been spending it over the losings of a poker match and probably some herbal remedies, so let's remember what Jesus would say. And how fitting, that was about getting stoned, too). But bribery, with maybe a dash of blackmail? That was an activity better suited to his best friend Chuck Bass. Nate might be the track all-star, but it was Chuck who could run circles around him.

Wasn't it the immortal words of Justin Timberlake, N? What goes around comes around. That doesn't just describe your fairweather affections.

Nate stared at the last few words of the application, and smiled. "Anyone want a broken watch?"

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. NA.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. NA.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers (?) in a bunch. NA.
One day, ~~marmalade~~ my girlfriend will rule the world. NA."