View Full Version : Main Character Describe
09-01-2009, 01:53 AM
It's not a fancy exercise, but I use it every time I write something.
Okay. Start by thinking of a random name and describe the person any way you can. Relations, appearance, personality, gender...
Her name was Xarnakuta, but it was rarely spoken. Boys were known to cross her and end up head first in a trash can. The last one who crossed her is in the hospital with mental injuries. No one has ever seen her the same way. We think she changes figure, but no one can tell. She seems to alter minds as well as appearance. She knows no one and we don't know if she has been alive for centuries or minutes. She speaks in a different language which no one knows, we think. Nothing is right around her.
BTW, Xarnakuta is a name I got when I was trying to write 'Carmelita' and my fingers were over to the left...
09-06-2009, 08:52 AM
Every single day, the name could be heard across the wide playground, spoken with curious delight and mocking glances.
She was a slight girl, delicate and pretty, but silent as the grave. Her large, brown eyes seemed to take up half of her face, serious and na´ve and cynical all in one fell swoop. Everything seemed so perfect on the surface of her skin. It was the biggest suprise to newcomers that she didn't fit in - she seemed like one of the unfortunates that caged themselves in with the rest of their perfect race, cursed to be fortunate and bored and gossiped about for the rest of their perfect lives.
But there was no lightness in Marita - she was all dark, with not a spot of humour to colour her eyes or dance in her step. Her days were filled with the monotony of watching and hearing everyone, filtering their personalities with those sombre eyes, and waiting...waiting....
Waiting for a mistake to fall upon.
09-06-2009, 05:52 PM
Tony. He was a small, sprightly boy with olive-toned skin and a shock of dark, silky hair that always fell across his forehead, which he would brush away with an impatient, habitual flick of the hand. His bright gray eyes seemed to sparkle with perpetual mischief and excitement, and all who knew him recognized him most by the aura of cheerfulness that seemed to emanate from his skin like a fine mist. He would spend his days running through the hills that rose up behind his family's tiny cottage, his dog Rupert bounding at his heels, his arms spread out to his sides, as though he believed he would be lifted into the air by the wind. At night, one would find him perched in the boughs of his favorite willow tree, his fingers lightly tracing the well-worn words in his book of fables, his lips faithfully whispering the stories, his large eyes lit by the flickering light of the fireflies. He had very few friends; the neighboring children were all absorbed in their video games and television shows, sprawled across their sofas with glazed eyes. Only Tony seemed connected to the outdoors; nature and adventure drew him as though he were tethered to a rope. The grass and sky held him in their arms, rocking him and crooning soft words of truth that only he could hear.
09-06-2009, 09:38 PM
Jack Fate. A hard ass if there ever was one.
Fate was the meanest son of a bitch this side of the Mississippi. Legends tell of a man walking through a Texas town looking for a hotel to sleep in. The story goes that a party of Union soldiers hassled Fate and tried to take his firearms. Their next mistake was trying to take his guitar.
In this legend, Fate killed all the soldiers and yelled out a warning. "Any sumbitch tries somethin' like that again, I'll kill his wife, son, dog and burn his house down."
Fate just had an aura about him. You saw him and you knew he was not a man you made small talk with. His red bandana and light colored hat may have looked easy on the eyes, but his gruff voice and bearded face were the exact opposite.
For all intents and purposes, Fate was a guy you didn't fuck with. And you hoped to God that he didn't fuck with you.
Charles Everett was not a simple man. No matter how much his lawyers and attorneys tried to stress otherwise. He would stand like a sentinel watching over the calm waters that surrounded his multi-million dollar house with a Martini in one hand, thinking about his next advancement in his science fields for hours without end.
In the 1940's he shocked the world with The Spectre, the first artificial vigilante, or 'superheroes' as they were dubbed by the press. Nowadays he admits that The Spectre was "an ugly spectacle, hideous to behold", but then it was beautiful in the eyes of hundreds of scientists and technicians from all over the world. From then on, he continued to impress with science and mechanical advances.
He did not see his experiments as immoral; in the long run, they were saving hundreds of lives.
Asuka , she is the 4th daughter of teh Shizamaki family that governed the region of Kyoto for decades and hence she is an aristocrat who likes to be spoiled. SHe is very well mannered but likes to create pranks on the village people particularly her friend, Maya and her brotehr Kaoru in which she soon became her bestfriend. She is a miko in training and is strict on her training as being one.
When her family's fortune fell after the earthquake and the rise of government body called, the COuncil, Asuka along with her sister, Enna became members of the Council to try to regain their fortune. SUch decision of being a member of the COuncil made her hated by the people after the council displayed major skirmishes on neighbouring provinces but she did not care.
However, ater Enna joined the Tournament, won but dissapeared...she quikcly entered the next one by next year to understand what is actually going on. Little does she know that Maya is one of the contestants.
11-10-2009, 08:49 PM
I saw Annie Get Your Gun in NYC when I was six. It was just me and my dad--Lola had another ear infection, and my mom was taking care of her. I calculated in my head that to see the whole show, we would have to stay up Past Midnight, and then, to get back to the hotel, we would have to Walk Through Times Square.
We each got our own personal glossy program. There were ads, and there was a synopsis, but at the end were pictures and biographies of each character that made all the flipping worth it.
I guess I think I'm an extra in the play. Not Annie Get Your Gun; well, maybe Annie Get Your Gun. It could be anything. I probably don't know the storyline or the name or plot. I'm Sniper #3 or Talking Man in Hat. I'm not sure if I get a biography.
11-10-2009, 11:15 PM
Bright eyes flashing from beneath black sooty lashes filled the world, her red dress hugging her hips in a tight embrace. Her eyes laughing, she stepped from the shadows.
A coy slip of a woman, her curves were enough to make whole buildings erupt as the fire alarms went off. A coy, wicked smile tugged at the red lips, all sorts of sweet seductions tumbling through that mind as she glanced up and down at every man she passed, stopping many in their tracks with a single look.
She'd never needed them. She never would need them.
But it was ever so fun to toy with their hearts.
11-12-2009, 04:43 PM
Sadim Itna. He never really knew what gold felt like. Sure, he'd seen it being used in purchases and transactions, but never before had he held the kingdom's currency in his hands. The last time he chanced upon a stray coin from a merchant's purse, the precious metal turned to ash the moment it entered his palm. Often he wondered how this was even possible, but he knew of no-one who could give him an adequate answer. Because of his conditon, begging or stealing would do him no good. Perhaps it was just his fate to remain poor all this life.
(Yeah... that's about all I can conjure at the moment.)
11-16-2009, 10:33 PM
Sarisa, the girl hiding something. Everyday at school, she walks as if in a dream. She looks as if she is in dream land and she seems like her very essence has spread over the room. It's as if you can feel her cold and dreary eyes inside you even if you can't see her. She never smiles, or even opens her mouth, if she can help it. When she does open her mouth, her teeth have a strange look to them, as if there are only two. Long, pointed and sharp...
11-17-2009, 01:00 AM
Ira, the girl whom everyone thought was a bit different. Sure, her lavender irises stood out amongst everyone's normal green, blue, brown and hazel ones, but does that really make one different? Sure, her silky mahogany hair that fell past her waist stood out from every girl's normal bob-cut that was in style. Sure, she didn't wear the latest fashion at a school that could claim itself as the brother of Princeton. Sure, she had a boyfriend that dressed differently too, compared to the other girls' jock boyfriends, but she didn't mind. Sure, she could feel and see other things that other people couldn't, but does that really make someone different?
12-03-2009, 02:34 AM
"Oh, Elsie, honey, no!" Her mother grimaced, watching yet another of her grandmother's favorite tea cups go flying on its one-way trip to the floor. "I've told you time and time again. The cupboard is right there. You can't just come flying out of the hallway like that!"
Elsie, a small girl of only five summers, looked up at her mother with tip-tilted green eyes. "U-u-u-uhkay, Mummy."
She shied away, flinching as her mother reached for her, softening as her mother's soft arms wrapped about her tiny frame.
Elsie softened again, her little ears picking out the strain of sadness in her mother's voice.
One long scar-line stood out along the nape of her neck, standing stark white against the soft tawny hue of her skin. Two short, black piggy-tails sprung from her head, tied up with her favorite pink bobbies.
"I love you, Elsie. He's not coming back. I promise."
Elsie swallowed and nodded against her mother's neck, memories playing behind those shy, solemn eyes, while her teeth fretted at her lower lip. "Yuh-huh."
12-08-2009, 03:42 AM
Fallon. The very name of the mysterious Irish girl was enough to silence a room. She wasn't the bad kind of mysterious...on the contrary. She had laughing grey eyes, always had a witty remark up her sleeve, and was practically the next Miss Ireland. But for all her laughing and joking she didn't actually talk much.
Certainly she gossiped with the girls at lunch and teased the boys in her math class, but other than that...nothing. It was rumored that she was actually an Irish spy that had been planted in an American high school to keep an eye on the evil principal, Mr. Summers. Then again, it was also said that she was the richest girl in Europe and had gotten bored with her old school. Now were any of these rumors true? Who knew? But there were two things that were certain: Fallon kept you on your toes, and Fallon never under any circumstance, reavealed her first name. But then, that was just...Fallon.
12-10-2009, 07:47 AM
She stood only five feet and weighed maybe 100 pounds and that's if she had two stones in her pocket. The dark circles that encapsulated her eyes were from countless days without sleep and the drugs she stuck in her veins to keep functioning. She used the Vampire blood at first to mask her Grace. That's until she became addicted. She needed the blood at least three times a day to even focus. Right now she was staring at the needle the shape-shifter was pressing into her skin. She wasn't the typical kind of Angel you thought of when thinking of the divine children of God. She was bitter, angry and wanted revenge. She kept her wings covered by the only thing she owned-- a weathered leather Jacket. She laid back on the couch and let the blood mix with her own until she felt nothing but the needle slipping out of her vein.
12-22-2009, 09:58 PM
Derren was hardly the essence of masculinity. Though a boy, his delicate features could almost be described as pretty. His effeminate blue eyes echoed the nature of the sea, cool, calm and collected, and they could instantly read the emotions on a person's face, such was his experience with other people. His pale blond hair reached his waist, billowing around him in such a way that instantly confused onlookers mistaking him for a girl. His smooth and pale skin which so neatly matched his hair, so sharply contrasted his clothes, which were dark, loose and - like everything else about Derren - far from what most boys his age wore. The black, silken, V-necked article barely covered his hairless and thin torso, while the leggings, made of the same soft material, barely reached the ankles. Derren observed the scene before him with an air of calm that somehow masked the silent rage beneath, but without a word, he took several steps away from the scene and walked back in the direction he came. The door remained open, while Derren's boyfriend scrambled to his feet and tried to cover up the evidence, leaving behind the man he had cheated with as he ran in a desperate bid to catch up with his former lover.
Just some hot gay randomness, I thought it'd be interesting to try and describe "that kinda character".
01-02-2010, 07:58 PM
I was forgotten among the streets; an orphan of the Dark. I was starving, thirsty, and unable to move. I was supposed to die.
"Hello," said a voice.
I moved my eyes, for with the energy I had left, it was all I could do. He was blonde, blue eyed and fair skinned, and had a cool smile. Like an angel, I thought. He extended his hand out to me.
"You have been ignored, haven't you?" he asked. I weakly nodded. "Do you want to live?"
I tried to grab that hand, but I could only twitch my finger; it was more than enough. He lifted me off from the streets. For the first time, I felt...alive again.
I felt I needed to write something down...
01-13-2010, 02:46 AM
(Right. This one's for one of my actual characters... should be interesting.)
Ita swung to the left, swooping easily under the branch as the vine carried her through. Butterflies swarmed her stomach, a grin spreading over her face almost involuntarily.
Now this is what I call fun!
Her light brown hair, streaked through with purple, pink, orange, blue and gold shot behind her, like a multi-coloured comet, her earrings pulling at her ears from their multiple piercings.
"Whoo!" She released the vine, adrenaline sharpening everything as she lunged for the next, riding the air, chasing the horizon. A thrill rocketed through her as the vine tautened beneath her grip.
It writhed in her hands.
Wait a... oh, shit!
"Arrghhh!" She dropped off the snake as it tried to twist about her arm, it's fangs already exposed and dripping venom. It struck, quickly, catching her just as she slipped away, falling hundreds of feet to the forest floor.
Impact! Ita heard something crack and splinter, pain smashing through her for a moment.
Ita was still, her breath halting, perfectly still as a soldier on guard. All paused for one still, silent moment as the angel rested, her violet eyes wide open and bleeding at the edges.
The silence broke as Ita sucked in a huge gasp of air. She coughed.
"Aw, fuck!" She sat up, stretching. "That is the last time we ever do that, I swear, Jasper."
She inspected the fang-marks on her wrist, already faded, as if they were weeks, and not mere seconds, old.
Just another mark, I suppose...
03-09-2010, 02:27 AM
Damon roamed the isle of a grocery store his jet black hair stopping just above his deep brown eyes.Dressed entirely in black he roamed the isle patiently waiting for the opportune moment to steal his next meal.He had no money to pay for the food cause no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get a job none would hire a misfit like him.To everyone else he was less than garbage. He grabbed a can of chips and struck it in his jacket pocket,and calmly wandered out the door.Silently making his way back to his home an empty alley way.
08-25-2010, 08:29 AM
Asgard Bane is known more commonly as 'Az' or 'Azzy'. These are nicknames used by family and close friends. Used without permission, he will ignore you for quiet some time.
Fully grown, he stands at an impressive 6'2, although the laws of nature say there is never a son smaller than his mother. In Asgard's case, this isn't true.
For one, his mother is a psycho. The sadistic Sun Goddess who desires to kill him. She stands at a staggering 6'7.
Asgard is a very bright character, and asks a tonne of questions when the time calls for it. He is a godly figure among his Private school in Newquay. He unintentionally steals the hearts of the young ladies, his romantic tendencies towards the ones he loves gives him a wolf like definitive, rather like his eyes. Their sharp autumn gold is almost irresistible, natural, and it only takes a quick connection of eyes to forget their colour is almost freak-like.
He is almost certainly a God. The direct son of Life and Death, which makes him far more powerful than the average Gods. He is known as a Greater God, with abilities much desired among the Council.
He is restricted to the amount of lovers he can have in his immortal life time. That number in one.
Once a God falls in love, they are truly in love and even when that lucky person dies, they cannot regain that feeling for any other individual.
Asgard Bane is consistent, and master of the arts such as music, art, and literature.
He is afraid of deep water and can be driven into a state of panic if he gets to confused. He sticks to his ideals, although sometimes reality changes them because he cannot escape being wrong. As he gets older, he actually gains a sense of playfulness, especially with those he loves the most.
09-03-2010, 12:36 AM
A chilling wind blew his thick crimson hair across his pale face. Merlier's turquoise eyes were like those of a hawk. A predator's eyes. His unblinking stare and thin, angular visage lent a slightly cadaverous edge to his appearance, highlighted even more by his gaunt physique. Merlier wore simple leather armour over his thin frame, accompanied by his ever present daggers, glinting malevolently in the harsh morning light.
10-05-2010, 04:06 PM
Everything about her was intruiging. Her expressions were unreadable, yet her eyes held a tale waiting to be told. They were grey, with a slight tint of blue; the colour of the deepest, most unexplored parts of the ocean. It seemed strange that such cold coloured eyes could hold such warmth. Her hair fell softly around her face and tumbled freely past her shoulders. Fine strands of fire and sunlight woven into silk. It seemed to emit a gentle glow, framing her pale face. Her jaw was set, determined, and her proud features were like walls that hid the vulnerability, years of pain and sadness underneath. Nothing about her was ordinary. She was an undiscovered jewel. And her fate could lead her to change everything.
11-28-2010, 07:49 AM
Tina has always been under the care of her parents, until the day she went off to college. She didn't like to live in dorms, since sharing a room with another was not up to her standards. she got a small, one bedroom apartment. It wasn't perfect, the paint was chipping near the ceiling of all the rooms, the carpet had some small stains, and the bathroom had only enough room for one person. Tina's favorite part of the apartment was the kitchen, It looked very calming. The cabinets are made of a light wood and the island counter has a smooth, tan colored marble. The stools, for the island, were matching the cabinets, but were worn out.. It reminded her of sitting with her parents on a Sunday morning and having her mom's famous pancakes. The bedroom was nothing special, she knew that she would spend most of her days sitting in the living room, writing papers.
The day she finally got everything moved in she stood in the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror. Her hair was never up to her standards. The shoulder length hair was never the problem, it was the messy curls. Whenever she straighten it, within an hour it would be in curls again, so now she doesn't even try to mess with it. She didn't hate how she looked at all, she was content with the pudginess near her stomach, and even with only being 5 foot 5 inches. The one thing she loved about herself was the crystal blue eyes she had. The special part about them was that they turned white at random times.
12-27-2010, 10:04 PM
The arrow pierced through the skin at my shoulder. I gasped staring at the arrow shaft protruding from the flesh. I breathed in a shallow breath.
"you shouldn't be here"
I searched for the voice. It was in a tree.
A figure jumped down from the tree with a thud. Messy brunette hair wobbled around her face as she got up, revealing Chesnut eyes that might have looked warm, had her eyebrows not been set at a fierce angle. She was tall and wiry. Her skin was as pale as porcelain and she held her bow fiercely in one hand. Small peach colored lips were drawn into a thin line.
Overall she scared me.
01-04-2011, 01:20 PM
A talent for Magyk at an early age meant that George would always be different. Even when he had not discovered his powers, George was not the same as the other children. His demeanour was strange for a child, people were uncomfortable in his presence. He was dark, his hair midnight black, wearing clothes that were so black that it glittered and the contrast to his white skin meant that people had trouble looking at him. The only way people could look at his face was his Grey eyes. He had no white in those holes of grey emptyness. Despite this, people liked him. His voice lay like velvet on the surounding air, his features were smooth. People were often to stroke, but they held back. He was a boy of contrast. Such a pale person wearing such dark clothes, such a light and beautiful boy with such a black presence. There was no malice in him, but no good. He was empty.
03-31-2011, 03:24 AM
Ansem was different. Within that statement lay all the explanation anyone would ever want or need.
Abandoned churches are creepy...tall strangers in dark alleys are creepy...Loslow...well, by nature he tended to defy any other description than "Fucking batshit crazy". It fit best, but was doubtless far to unweildy to be used in casual conversation. Thus, most who were acquainted with the town's own little bundle of terror labeled him simply as 'creepy', despite the fact that he quite obviously was far more than that. Add the cliche colour black to his wardrobe and a queer affinity for blood and you had a walking horror disaster waiting to happen.
Starshine exists. Call me a romantic fool but I saw that in her eyes, along with countless other things that bled suspicion, intrigue, anger, and sheer arousal all at once. But somehow, for all those whirling emotions there was no chaos. It was powerful in the manner of a lighting strike: Precise and deadly, yet brimming with a boundless energy that threatened to release itself with every second, swallowing me whole.
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