#characterization exercise

[lookslikechill]

The Cafe Test: A Characterization Exercise

Tagged by @writingonesdreams!! Thank you!

I was going to do this with DW’s big four (Clay, Alistair, Miles, and Quince) but then I decided it would be nice to work with some other characters on this!  So I stuck 23 of DW’s biggest players, including the main four boys, into a randomizer and went with the first four:

Adrian Risinger

Daniel Morrin

Blake Elmfield

Daphne Donovan

Did they get a cafe they liked? What kind of cafe do they like? What does that say about their character?

Adrian and Morrin both exist in the small coastal city of Port Cassandra in the 40′s, so their options are limited to upwards of three local options.  

Morrin: Would be comfortable in any of them.  As a Port Cassandra Police Officer he’ll receive respect (and probably a small discount) at any of them, which he enjoys.  After Sinclair and alongside Sawtelle, he probably makes public appearances in local places/businesses/etc off duty the most often.  

Adrian: Would go wherever the crowd is thinnest, less racket, and would not make a habit of going to any one cafe too frequently, to avoid being noticed.  

Blake and Daphne live in the much bigger city of Astervale, in the year 4146, so they have a much larger variety of options.

Blake:  Would choose a cafe with a lot of different food options along the lines of sandwiches, soup, etc, even bordering on a diner.  If the cafe were to become a favorite of hers, it would probably have a rotating menu or specials that change very often.  She’s a total foodie who likes to try new things.

1. Where do they sit? (Near the door because there’s an exit? Near the back to hide? Where it’s shadowy? Where they’ll be seen by a waiter? Lots of table space for writing/drawing/hands? Minimal space? Would they ever sit with others? What do these things say about their character?)

Adrian: Would sit where she is somewhat hidden, especially from anybody passing by outside or just walking in, and never with other people.  As a wizard living in Port Cassandra’s tiny magical underground, she doesn’t want to be noticed when she’s among the regular population, and she doesn’t want to be questioned.  She would need minimal space, keep to herself, and make little noise since she would only be visiting for a short time and only for a small snack. 

Morrin: He would sit as close to the entrance as possible, or by/at a window, if not both at the same time.  He likes to peoplewatch and will start conversations unprompted.  He absolutely will take up more space than necessary, often filling up an entire other chair next to or across from him with his various possessions- hat, coat, briefcase.  He’ll stretch and spread his legs about, rest an arm on the chair next to him (and probably not the one he’s already filled with his stuff).  He’s a big guy with a big ego, he has no problem filling up space.

Blake: She would pick a seat with the best view of the city/outdoors to make the most of her outing.  Outside of work, Blake typically spends most of her free time entertaining and feeding herself at home, so going to a cafe would be a special treat for herself.  

Daphne:  Daphne would prefer a cafe with lots of floor space, furniture very spread out, and lots of natural sunlight.  However, Daphne is a community gal who will rarely be caught inside a restaurant/cafe/bar without a couple coworkers OR her entire family, so she may end up wherever other people want to go.  She’d need extra space just to accommodate the people in her company.

2. What do they order? (Is it sweet? Is it focused on hydration only? Is it expensive? (Can they afford it if it is?) Is it milky and warm? Is it to wake them up? To comfort them like a hot cocoa? Does it bring back memories? Do they get a drink connected to other people in their lives?)

Adrian: She’d get a great big mug of hot chocolate, hot and sweet.

Morrin:  The largest cup of coffee available, darkest roast possible, milk, no sugar. 

Blake: She would order some sort of hot tea, probably not anything fruity, and she would add no milk and no sugar. 

Daphne: She would get a small iced coffee with cream, sugar, and some sort of fruit flavoring like mango or blueberry.  Just a small taste of something sweet.  A treat in moderation, a show of self restraint.

3. If they get a snack, what do they get? (See above for similar questions to ask. Another good one is: Are they allergic to anything? Are there health concerns? Do they have to worry about their digestion for any reason? Or is their stomach made of steel?)

Adrian:  She would get a small cookie of some sort.

Morrin: He would get a plain bagel with butter, or something equally simple and flavorless. 

Blake:  She would get a good spread of food, between 2-4 different things, depending on what the cafe had available, and then she’d sit back and take her time consuming it all.  

Daphne:  Would order something balanced for herself, vegetables and fruit and eggs, perhaps with some kind of bread item on the side.  

4. How do they pay? (Are they rich? Poor? Do they count their pennies or do they throw a whole bunch of gold on the table? Or are they rich and stingy, counting their pennies because that’s how they got rich in the first place? Do they run out without paying? Do they not give a shit about the law? Are they desperate for a feed and want to pay but just can’t?)

Adrian: Isn’t poor, but the currency she possesses is useless outside of the Underground.  She would trick the waitstaff into thinking she paid with Magic.  Later, it would wear off and they would realize she never paid, but by then the memory of what Adrian looked like would have somehow crumbled.

Morrin: In coin, bc it’s 1947.  Probably just leaves the money on the table and walks out.  

Blake & Daphne: Pay cash?  Tipping is probably old hat . . . (I need to give currency & payment practices in 4146 NY/USA more thouhght)

5. How do they interact with staff? (No eye contact? Lots of smiles? Friendly banter? Awkward conversation?)

Adrian:  Small, polite smiles, limited eye contact, almost too quiet when she speaks.  

Morrin: He’d be perfectly charming, all grins and jokes and boisterous laughter.  As long as no mistakes are made, he’s pleasant, and even adored by the staff.  

Blake: Lots of eye contact and chatter.  She’ll want to know what their personal favorites are, what’s been most popular, etc, etc. 

Daphne:  Polite and pleasant, but clearly not there to spend much time socializing with the staff.  

Tagging: @transboywrites @requiemesque @mouwwie @nkta-ink

[sunbluethinking]

As a fun character development exercise, try having your characters create their own role-playing game characters! Have your characters play their characters through a whole campaign! There are no conceivable downsides to this idea!

But seriously, it's easy enough to think about how you would refit your character to be in a game, but it's pretty common knowledge that one of the fun things about role playing games is being able to play a different kind of person from who you are in real life. What kind of gamer are they? Are they a role player? A power gamer/optimizer? What kind of game character—class, race, role, background—would your real character want to play? As somebody (Oscar Wilde?) said, people show their real selves when you give them a mask.

(But also, write an entire campaign for your characters' characters. Forget your original story idea. This incepted game is your story now.)

[yellowtogold]

"Do You Ever Get Tired of Acting That Way?"

Rain worried him. He felt as if somewhere among the billions of individual drops a higher power lingered. Watching and judging upon the bridge between land and sky. God roared overhead and he jumped, fumbling with his seatbelt. It was only a little thunder but Leon was always a bit too anxious when the rain poured and the dark was made known and the monsters that lurked in it, people like him, con artists and cheats, were brought into stunning clarity. He tisked under his breath, meeting his own piercing gaze in the rearview. He had the kind of eyes that gave nothing away, a shimmering blue like the sun resting a top the sea, hidden behind a shifty judgmental squint.

[horwell-blog]

15min characterization

You can guess right away who its about prob, and its not proofread. Its all raw, first-person and braindump, SO yeah without further adieu.

I wonder if she felt it. I wonder if she knew. If she knew just what was coming from her, hurtling at a million miles per hour toward a patchwork patterned abyss. I wonder if her mind moved as quickly, her skin going stark white and pallid as she watched everything zoom past, her life being worth nothing more than a moment. Did she breathe in and feel the change in pressure, taste the pine trees and prepare to kiss them once she descended; moving faster than anything on her ever had before. Did she cry? She never cried during the day, and that was at twilight. She was in transit toward her night terrors but she fell head-long, brave and tight jawed. This seemed to be familiar frontier, like a friend she had been expecting and didn't want to keep waiting. Death was like a long lost lover, arms wide open and ready to take her in. My own arms weren't strong enough to keep her. Who did he think he was, coming in and sweeping her off her feet?! Ripping the seams out of everything I had sewn, shredding the flag I bore upon my back. Heavier than mountains and bright like the sun-- no, it was demolished like a house of cards with one scream ripping from her throat. Half-hearted. Half hearted. Half of me. Someone I had sworn to protect, and swore to honor, my family and my blood. You can't forsake what pulses in your veins and yet still-- the duty at my core. I failed. Left agape, and scratching at whispered images on still nights, swearing there was a breath in the air that was still hers. "Don't matter who likes you." She had a way of clapping over my hands, her palms too small and her fingers too stubby. Her stature was tiny but her smile was genuine, powerful enough to bring a man to his knees. She would have been the love of someones life one day, if she could grow up past scuffed knees and taut pigtails. It didn't matter to her, ever, it didn't matter if she wore something for a week or got a new dress, she still brightened the heart of every person she met in ways I could never imagine. She was a torchbearer of dreams and curiosities. If I were going to learn about love from anyone, it would have been her, and it was. If anyone could love a spider or a tree or every wet stepping stone across the river, it was her, and I could never imagine it when I was a younger man. And if I could have one more chance to walk her across the grass to watch the clouds go by again, I would tell her that she made me see. She reminded me of my dreams and forced me to do what I felt was right, not what mother wanted, not what the school did. To learn to love who I am and not hate myself for what I wasn't, it took losing her to finally realize that. It took her letting go for me to realize. I could have been just a little stronger, but she was far ahead of me. "Don't matter what they think either." She was always so precise in her words, so eloquent, even though she seemed so savant in the minds eye of the world. She was brilliant. Brilliant. Please take care of her, dear Goddess, hold her when it rains because it keeps her awake at night. Remember that her favorite color is purple and she wants to have a hundred Remlits. "You'll still belong." Tell her I'm sorry and thank you.