Application - Marla Singer, from 'Fight Club'

[jacks_tumor]

((God, oh God, stop me, really. Nine characters. I'm in for it. For reference, I'm playing a combination of movie and book!Marla, just because they both have their own kind of batshit insane tendencies. This is also Marla before, you know, insert large spoiler here at the end of Fight Club, so Captain Blankity Blank is not dead, in her eyes. She's

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[sgtbothari]

Bothari read over the application, and then did something so out of character that, was anyone around who actually knew him well, they'd be edging him back toward the door. What he did was smile beatifically.
Of course, the smile didn't reach his eyes, which were fixed on Marla with an intense hunger.

"You remind me of Elena," he breathed reverently.

[jacks_tumor]

Any other person, of course, would probably have been doing that said backing towards the door right about now. Marla, however, managed to only look bored. But then, she'd fucked Tyler Durden on many an occasion. If she could handle him, she could handle most of anything. "Elena?" she remarked, finger touched to her chin. "Begging the question, not that I care, is that a good or a bad thing?"

[sgtbothari]

Bothari took a careful step forward. "Elena," he answered, his voice barely more than a whisper, "is my wife... But they took her away." He couldn't have said why this woman reminded him of Elena... possibly there was no other reason other than the fact that she seemed to be at about his level of batshittery.

[jacks_tumor]

Not that he had answered her question, of course. "I remind you of your long-lost wife," she clarified aloud in a deadened sort of voice, crossing her arms lazily in her lap and blinking to Bothari. While batshittery was, indeed, a fuckload of fun, she wasn't getting the bonding moment here. "Tragic, really," she added in a mumble, picking at some lint on her coat and flicking it idly to the floor. "You must cry yourself to sleep at night."

[sgtbothari]

"Mostly I don't sleep," Bothari said, his tone quite pathetically earnest. "It usually doesn't help, anyway."

[jacks_tumor]

She gave a smirk, uncrossing her legs and idly swinging them under the table. "Should try Xanax some time," she offered in a half-hearted comment. "Works fantastically, getting you to sleep. Promise."

[sgtbothari]

Bothari frowned. "Don't like drugs," he said simply. "They fuck things up too much."

[jacks_tumor]

Marla rolled her eyes. Brilliant. Some prudish, straight-edger who thought they were above the world by not dabbling in narcotics. "Yeah, well, some people's tastes are better than others," she commented, halfway smugly. "My opinion begs to differ."

[sgtbothari]

Bothari was disappointed, but not so easily deterred. "True," he allowed. Then abruptly he changed the subject. "You got a house preference or should I pick?" He'd probably vote her into Hufflepuff either way, and in any event he would probably randomly start stalking her after she was sorted, but that wasn't for a while yet.

[jacks_tumor]

Generally, Marla wasn't too interested in people as a whole unless they were offering her something of use, whether it be sex, drugs, or rock and rollsomething of the similar make. It was nothing personal on Bothari's part. ... Well, it was, but at least it wasn't like she was singling him out or something. "I've heard Slytherin and Ravenclaw are good," she commented. Supposedly one had the horny hot men and the other had an open bar. She couldn't lose.