How Well Do You Know Your Character?

How well do you know your character?

Very, very well thanks	57.4%	[ 1035 ]
Um... average I suppose	17.0%	[ 306 ]
I know their name and appearance!	3.7%	[ 67 ]
Character?! Stories have characters?!	2.8%	[ 50 ]
My character says: Give me gold.	19.2%	[ 346 ]
Total Votes:			[ 1804 ]

[Malediictus]

Name: Thomas Kane.
Age: Late twenties.
Appearance: A lean. rangy male of great height. Straw-coloured greasy hair cut close to the head, patchily-coloured pale skin with dark circles under his eyes. High cheekbones, broad nose and thick lips. Stubble adorns his chin. His one good feature are his eyes, heavily lidded with long golden lashes and eyes the colour of the palest blue. Black tattoos cover his hairy arms. The smell of stale smoke hangs around him.

"Nay," he said, grinning a little as he shook his head at the foolishness of this young gentleman sitting in front of him. "Humans are like roaches. We'd live through anyfink, anyfink at all."
A large hand was held up, fingers ticking down as he went through the list.
"Most faeries are done dead an' gone. Heaven an' Hell ain't too bovvered wiv us. We've lived through three apocalypses, and that's only in th' nineties an' them are jes' the prophecies that made it outta to th' vanilla public. Ain't no-one's heard about Billy an' his Kraken, an' that 'uns are a sure sight more real an' dangerous than them bullshite prophecies. An' whot's more? We's entertainment. I don't fink whatever higher powers would want to wipe us out wiv only a coupla years of funnin' in."
A pause, and then he rubbed his chin with his thumb, the only finger that had not been tucked into his palm.
"Talkin' about higher powers, I don't fink many of 'em see eye to eye on th' whole apocalypse thing, yanno. They all want their apocalypse to be th' one that wipes Earth out, so they're gonna try to thwart other apocalypses soooo, y'know." He made a shrug, held out his hands as if to say, "What can you do?"
"So me finks. Ain't no worries on the apocalypse front on that side of things, if yer talkin' about them's supernatural matters. It's only our own vanilla kind we gotta worry about, whot with nuclear bombs lyin' around all over the place ...Th' real evil is inside th' heart of humans, aye? Hell an' Heaven, ain't got nothin' on us."
"Welp, now's we done wiv that line of chatter, let's turn our minds to th' next question, which is ..." He rubbed his hands together and grinned, looking around expectantly at the gathered. One of them was unfortunate enough to catch his wandering eye. "Ay, you! You believe in souls? Fink they're any real use in the daily scheme of things?"

[Cement Cake]

Amdis
19
Among her family, Admis is the unusually tall sort. Her long and muscular body is pale from living inside the mountain, and tans quickly when in the sun, getting sun burns easily. She's developed tough skin from woring hard, both in the mountain farms, and outside in the sunfield. Most of the time all you see is her average dirt coloured hair, but it becomes luminous sun-streaked gold in daylight, something just not aquirable with the artificial light. Amdis has eyes as blue as the sky with mile long lashes, lips as full as the moon, a nose as hooked as a hawk's beak and a face as sharp as a blade.

As soon as Amdis made the mistake of meeting the mocker of apocalypses, she knew she was next. Her eyes darted away, but he pointed the question unmistakenly at her.
"Ay, you! You believe in souls? Fink they're any real use in the daily scheme of things?"
Amdis rolled her eyes. "Just my luck...I'd say no. But then, I don't know. Has anyone really experenced any viable proof that such a form of our existence exists? Science says we're just a sack of flesh and blood and bones, powered by a pumping heart and the electric currents and chemicle reactions fueling our brains.
"Still, I wonder. It'd be nice, I suppose, to have a soul to fall back on once I die. It might be famine, drought, lost land mine explosion..." All of the possibilties of death depressed her. She sighed miserably and bent over to rest her forehead on her fists. "I want to believe that I have a soul. Because that would mean Heaven's real, right? Right?" She was tired of waiting for the world to officially come to an end. She was afraid of oblivion. The death of man kind. It approached with every generation. The earth had been over 450 parts per million for a few generations. The Arctic ice had melted, the ocean was absorbing heat and bringing rise to ancient fossil fuels, the permafrost had thawed, letting peat rot and produce methane, all clogging the stratosphere. Her anscestors' chance to reverse their actions had never been taken, and she cursed them for leaving the future to deal with the looming end. "I don't want this to be the end," she choked.
Two tears trickled down her cheek and she shoved her bunched fists against her eyelids, to stop it. She repeated the command in her head as a mantra. Stop crying. top crying. Stop crying. Stopc crying.
Finally it stopped. Slowly, she lowered her hands, giving everyone a pretty red eyed glare. "I'm sorry," she said in a hollow voice. "That's been happening a lot. Alright!" She clapped her hands together, forcing a shaky smile. "I can't excuse my behaviour. How do you people face death. Everyone around me is so strong, I feel kind of unequal to them. What's your secret reserve?"

[Unexpected Chaos]

Name: Roxana Raquel Ralient
Age: Early thirties
Appearance: Her long, pale brunette hair is tied into a bun today, spilling over extra locks. Roxana contains a fat, small mouth, a gently curved nose, and eyes so dark it is hard to tell if it is the deepest of blue or black themselves. Her figure his fairly lean, small chested, but tall for a woman. Due to her gender, Roxana also wears light lipstick and dark eye shadow that fans out into her pale skin.

Roxana kept fidgeting with her hands at the conversation leading towards death, her back straight and tense as she silently rolled the wedding right around her middle finger. Reason for it to be on the wrong finger was, obviously, because she was no longer married. Widowed.. even for half a decade, the word still seemed new. The woman would never bare to get over the lost of her husband.

"..Ah," she glanced up now, forcing eye contact with the woman directly across from her who was speaking currently, before daring to reach over and take her hand. Giving it gentle pats as if she was afraid to make the young maiden flinch away if any sudden movement. "Do not think of yourself like that, strength and weaknesses lie in all but they are not the same. What makes you strong can make me cry out; what makes me laugh could cause you scars. It is the cruelty of life, do not take it personally." Roxana then tilted her head at the question, pulling away from the girl as she brought herself back together faster than predicted. The woman gave her an encouraging smile, impressed at her transformation. If only I could do such a thing as well.. What a gift it would be.

Tilting her head at the question, Roxana felt her eyelids lower. Her hand rose to her chest, above her beating heart. "At some point, fear can not rule others because of wounds left to scar. Eventually.. emotion dies out. Do not think its a positive thing, I assure you, it's pitiful to learn you are empty inside besides flesh and bones. Be glad for your flaws."

A pause of silence as Roxana leaned back in her chair, waiting for the conversation to continue to flow and desperately wishing to leave. I believe I just made it look more depressing than asked for... Wonderful. Clearing her throat, she turned her head towards her neighbor, wanting to force a lighter mood in the room once again. "On an unrelated subject, I can't help but notice the spark in your eye. Please, tell me, what is your dream? Don't be shy.. we are not here to criticize." She gave another encouraging smile.

[Malediictus]

Name: Freda.
Age: Appears to be in her middling-teens.
Appearance: Her thick black hair is hacked into a severe bob, with her fringe brushing her unnaturally wide, deep-set eyes. A small snub nose sits above a thin gash of a mouth in her broad, flat face. Frightfully pale, she is quite emaciated, with bony wrists and bonier knees. Dressed in a crop t-shirt that reveals a thin, straight scar across her sunken-in stomach and denim shorts held up by a thick belt. One may notice that her middle toe is missing on her bare right foot.

Spark in her eyes?
Spark in her eyes?
Freda squinted at the woman, unsurety flitting across her face as she tried to decide if the woman was making fun of her. The thought process proved too lengthy, too difficult and ultimately too annoying - and Freda discarded her musings carelessly. No matter. She will answer the question. It is easy enough,
"I want." She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts and fitting the words carefully into a coherent sentence before continuing. "I want to eat everything in this world." She touched the scar on her belly lightly, almost reverentially with a gentle finger. "What is this saying? Take a bite out of the world."
The smile on her flat face revealed rows and rows of exceedingly white, crooked teeth that were far too sharp and far too numerous to have fit comfortably into a human mouth.
"I will do that. And more."
Another pause, and she lifted up a hand and made a snapping motion with it.
"Om nom nom."
When it failed to draw any laughs (perhaps it was the smile. perhaps it was the way her eyes crinkled in obvious enjoyment at the thought. perhaps it was just her.), her hand fell limply onto her lap.
"Well." She looked at her lap, at the one thin hand overlapping the other neatly.
"If a fairy comes up to you and says you're the chosen one and gotta save the world, how would you feel and what would you do? On the flip side ... If you are a chosen one or summat like that and a fairy says that you're good to go and there's no need for you anymore cos the world's shaping up and she's gonna save herself, how would ya feel and what would you do?"

[Armayra]

Name: Rox Shi
Age: 16
Appearance: He stands at the short height of 5'0", with short, slightly spiky blonde hair and blue eyes. His clothing of choice is such that it would make one think that he's a punk.

Rox eyed the girl that had spoken suspiciously. She was rather strange, and he had to admit, she seemed a little off her rocker. Eat everything in the world? What utter non-sense. He'd have to keep an eye on that one. But no matter, he still had to answer the question that was currently at hand, even if it was a ridiculous one. "If I were to be told that I was chosen one to save the world, I would tell them to go find someone else. This world has done nothing for me, so I don't feel the need to do it any favors whatsoever. On the other hand, well, that wouldn't have happened because I wouldn't have taken up the job in the first place." He shook his head. Stuff like that never happened in the real world. "How good are you at riddles?" He himself found them to be quite enjoyable, but he figured that not everyone would be absolutely great at them.

[embrace the grind]

Name: Logan Brighton
Age: 23
Appearance: A tall, athletic woman with brown hair in a ponytail. She has soft brown eyes and almost always wears a ruddy grin.

Logan slumped into her chair without the slightest thought of decency. Her beater was riding up to her chest, revealing a bare stomach and the beginnings of a bra, but before she could slide down further, a short, blond boy addressed her. She found his type insufferable, and couldn't help but raise a skeptical eyebrow at him. His response was particularly hoity-toity, and a laugh found its way out. "So young, so cynical, eh?" Logan teased, cracking her neck both ways. "Don't worry about crap too much, kid, or else you'll get more wrinkles than a granny."

"Riddles?" Logan repeated, wrinkling her nose. "Pah. Intellectual bullshit. Keep your mind games to yourself, kiddo," the brunette snorted, straightening her shirt and adjusting her jeans. Turning sharp eyes onto the next victim - er, interviewee - Logan's lips curled into an almost malicious smile. "Soooo! My turn, eh? What do you think of snipers, hmm?"

[the-leaky-pen]

Name: Lide Cuevas
Age: 27
Appearance: Light-skinned person with short-cropped black hair, no facial hair, round cheeks, rather full lips, and dark brown eyes; is 5'4" and rather slender. Ve generally wears button-ups and slacks for vis work and nearly always wears a chest binder (notable exceptions: when working out and sleeping).

Lide raises vis eyebrows at the question. "As they are generally used for murdering, I'm not a fan," ve says, quirking the corner of vis mouth up in a grin.

Ve turned to the next person in the room. "Changelings: untrustworthy creatures to be avoided or great fun and company, what do you think?

[Callie Blackwell]

Name: Genievieve
Age: Nine
Appearance: Average height for her age, fair skin, wavy dark hair, white headband, exceptionally large pale blue eyes, delicate features, button nose. Bright red fancy dress, white stockings, scuffed black shoes, grass stains on knees.

Geneiveive tilts her head slightly as she ponders the question, a thoughtful hmm escaping her. "Well," She begins a touch uncertainly, mostly to herself. "I quite like the one changeling I know, but at the same time he is quite the trouble maker." Another pause to think. "And mother says the things from the woods are always bad. But I think the answer is both." She nods satisfied with the train of thought before restating her answer for the general public. "Both, changeling's make excellent company so long as you don't put any faith in them what so ever."

"Now, what do I want to ask you?" Brief pause, "that doesn't count as my question does it? That doesn't either? Oh, I know! What has a bed but never sleeps, what has a mouth but never eats, what runs all day and runs all night, never stops, try as it might? There's a troll that wants the answer to that."

[Sky Rhapsody]

Name: Tahlia Serranis
Age: 21
Appearance: Sun kissed skin and sharp, bright blue eyes. She wears her blonde hair pulled back with a butterfly clip, not a hair out of place. Her short, blue military jacket is neat and pressed, its silver buttons glinting under the lights. She sits very straight, her shoulders pulled back, and her hands folded in her lap.

Tahila eyes softened just a bit at the girl’s bright, bubbly voice. Had she been young and innocent once? Hazy memories lingered at the corner of her mind, but she brushed them away, focusing on the riddle. Has a bed, but never sleeps? Has a mouth, but never eats? Runs all day and night and never stops?
“It must be a river.” How strange, to spin riddles at such a young age. But then, she supposed she had been much the same at her age. She could barely remember those days. Back when all that had mattered had been the sun, the sea, and her makeshift family. With sad eyes, she met the gaze of another and addressed them. “What do you miss the most about your childhood?”

[queen_kirby_cobra]

Name: Lyall Weston
Age: 29
Appearance: 6'2", Shoulder-length ashy blonde hair.Well-toned body, from working rather than sitting in a gym lifting weights. Deep emerald eyes that turn a spectacular icy blue at times (Important to my story, not here). Thin lips that often make his expressions seem harsh, but a smile that could light up a room, although he doesn't exactly have much to smile about nowadays.

"What I miss the most about my childhood is how I was treated like an equal" Lyall sighed, "not like a monster. It doesn't matter now though, does it. At least I'm still around to fight the good fight." His eyes slid over to the girl sitting at her laptop, obliviously typing away, her fingers ablaze tip-tapping on the keys. "We're in the same boat, he whispers so she doesn't hear" He doesn't know how she'd react if she knew what she really was.

"Anyway..." He huffs out a breath and runs a hand through his hair as a smile slips past his carefully kept reserve for just a moment before he asks, "do you have anybody special in your life?"

[CaptainShroom]

Name: Kode Wattana
Age:19
Appearance: Lives in the US but his parents are Thai- shockingly died bleached blonde hair and sharp features. Wearing white jeans and a pale blue vest top, cream jacket with silver buttons and black calf-high boots. Not athletic but slim. Three scars (knife-made) on his neck.

Kode glared at the man. Men with long hair creeped him out. "Can't say I have...not at the moment anyway..." he said, sighing and dropping into an empty chair dramatically, "I'm between chicks, you know how it is...it doesn't help that my a**-hole of a room-mate keeps stealing them all." Thinking about Anthony made him irritable and he scowled at the long-haired man again.

Come to think of, most of the people in the room creeped him out. "You...uh..." he said, looking round, attempting to find someone who he could relate to, "Um...Where do you...where do you live?" he finished lamely, directing his question to no-one in particular. Don't make eye contact, he said, don't make eye contact and maybe they won't try and kill you.

[Armayra]

Name: Rox Shi
Age: 16
Appearance: He stands at the short height of 5'0", with short, slightly spiky blonde hair and blue eyes. His clothing of choice is such that it would make one think that he's a punk.

"I live in a city, which is in a country, which is in the world." Rox answered smartly. He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, did you really think that you would get anymore of an answer than that? No one is stupid enough to tell some complete stranger exactly where they live." He glanced about the room before adding, "Well, I hope so anyways. Alright, next question: what do you do for a living?" A generic enough question, but he didn't much feel like being creative right now.

[Savior_ofunsafespirits]

Name: Avery Ford
Age: 20
Appearance: She's short, with a slightly muscular build. She has dirty blonde hair and haunted grey-blue eyes.

"What do I do for a living?" Avery spat indignantly, "I survive, that's what I do. What else is there? There are literally no jobs left in this hell-on-earth unless you count 'survivor,' 'refugee,' and 'biter!'"

Avery snapped her eyes shut and took a deep breath to calm herself. She didn't understand exactly how this place worked, but she did know one thing: it was unfair to let her anger out on these people. They didn't understand; when they were done here, they got to go home to an entirely different world from hers, where they didn't have to be afraid of being eaten alive by their undead neighbors. Finally, she sighed.

"I'm a soldier in the Thirteenth Squad of the American Army, Southeast Region," She finally explained in an emotionless voice, "More commonly known as the underfunded piece of crap that's leftover from all the pre-Realization military branches. Air Force, Army, Navy, doesn't matter; we're all one now. So basically, we drive around the southeastern region of America trying to kill as many zombies as possible so that when the government—or what's left of it—sends in the big guns to liberate us, half their work will have been done for them."

Avery looked around the room. Half its inhabitants were only half-interested, but several had incredulous expressions on their faces—no doubt they were reactions to the word "zombie."

"Hmph."

Avery crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat.

"All right, my turn to ask," she started, before continuing slowly, "When was the last time you saw your family?"

[Malediictus]

Name: Nur Syahidah binte Samsir.
Age: 19.
Appearance: Dark-skinned, brown-eyed with curly black hair cropped close to her round head. Narrow eyes sit beneath finely plucked eyebrows. Dressed in a well-worn motorcycle jacket and battered blue jeans.

"Couple of months back, during school break." She made a shrug. "Back to the old country. It was good, lemme tell you - you don't get real spices over here in Europe, they're all watered down." She picked at a scar on her right knuckle, and let out a snort. "Last time I tried to cook belacan, they called the police on me! Psssht."

"But back there, Nenek was all, "Why is my grand-daughter so Westernised now?"" She shook her head. "Wait till she finds out I'm a lesbian, jeez, she'll fuc ... she'll kill me, she would. What's that? Something I've read somewhere - 'bout a game or something ... Yeah, I've been chosen to start life out at the most difficult of levels, gay minority female - hah!"

"But it was good," she concluded, a self-satisfied cat's smile running her mouth into a smirk. "I mean, I caught up with people and got shopping done at Bugis and shi-it I needed that, shopping in Europe is so expensive, yanno, and since I got myself a part-time job, the currency exchange rate managed to let me get a good haul home."

"Now that I'm done running my mouth off, who here thinks that revenge! Revenge is always justified with a good reason? If not, why?"

[Wanderer Rae]

Name: Annie
Age: 17
Appearance: Black-haired and green-eyed, she is thin and underfed. She wear the stained, brown dress of a barmaid. She is not wearing shoes.

Annie smiled and let out a quiet, hollow laugh.

"Sehlin's angels! Why would you want to do that? Revenge is so easily misguided." She paused, her smile somewhat fixed, and looked at the patron's nose. "Besides, what if the person you're getting revenge for doesn't want you to do it?"

Annie looked the patron in the eyes, and smiled brightly. "So what'd you like to drink?"