(no subject)

[zombieproof]

baaa. snagged from everyone and your mom.

Most of you on my flist don't really know my original characters personally. Small wonder, I don't really write much for them beyond RPing, though I really should. To remedy this to some small degree and give you a small introduction to the madness, I propose this:

Give me a bit of inspiration. A picture, a poem, a summary of a story, some words you'd like it themed on, etc. I'll write for the character you specify or the character I want to write for. It doesn't matter. No word limit, no nothing. I'll also include a bit of backstory if it's needed, or even link you to their 20 facts post, if they have one.

All my characters are listed here, I'd rather my originals got the prompts, but you're free to attack my fandom characters too, if you wish. XD

EDIT; made it public because I'm a whore for comments.



resolutionremix

James Weyde Malcolm	sixfloorsdown	[one+two]
Kenneth Wong	failthesetrials	[one+two+three]
Leila Evans	upwardstruggle	[one+two+three]
Haruka Ishida	burstlight	[one+two+three+four]
Amaryllis Reynolds	whileshesings	[one]
Jane Brown	nohonesty	[one+two+three]
Ariela Sophia Belini	littledefects	[one+two+three]

worldresolution

Oliver Malcolm	seun	[one+two]
Victoria Reynolds	papermagic	[one+two+three]
Ba Lin Yao	bousek	[one]
Wynnifred Meadows	soulsastray	[one

Comments

[ririkit.livejournal.com]

Ariela - Sibling rivalry

Kenneth - how to make a day

Leila - pretend not to know them

Jane - okay, I'm lazy and just want to know more about the "killing the grandfather" thing. Spill.

[offensive.livejournal.com]

Ariela had never had a brother or a sister. She'd never experienced what many of her friends had called the extreme burden of having someone toddling along after them, or picking on them as children.

She supposed, the closest thing she had to a brother was probably Murillo. Often times she wondered if it was sisterly affection towards him that kept her running up the steps to his home every day, or running into the middle of the schoolyard and jumping on his back to pry him away from whoever he was fighting, although a lot of the time it was because no one else would. He didn't tend to make a lot of friends, or keep them very well. He was mean even to her, but she could be mean back, if she wanted to.

He always seemed to listen to her, for some reason.

Kenneth

[offensive.livejournal.com]

Kenneth's days weren't really something regular. He had the routine, get up, eat, go to class, sit in the cafeteria and do homework, call home, walk to work, sort books, walk Theodore home.

It varied from day to day, but things really didn't start until the end. He looked forward to the end of the day, closing up shop, or leaving the keys to his relief, crossing the distance to McDonalds and sitting while Theodore finished for the day. Then he'd listen as the shorter boy chattered on, smiling slightly, until they reached his home, and they'd stop in. Jaina would usually greet them both with a hug, which Kenneth always found awkward, but nice. He was slowly starting to be okay with physical contact, although it would be a long way off before he was brave enough to kiss Theodore again. Or admit anything to that.

Day to day, it was constant that he never really told Theodore that he didn't mind the stolen hugs or the physical closeness. Day to day, Kenneth wasn't brave enough to tell the one person who already knew how much they meant to him, how much they mean.

Leila

[offensive.livejournal.com]

Interviews were something that Leila was never fond of, but she had to do them. It was required of her status of a star, and she had always believed in putting forward an honest real face if you were a celebrity. She didn't want people to think she was some face secretive superficial freak who couldn't be bothered to publicise herself properly.

One question that always bothered her, was when people asked about her co-workers. She could talk about the show, talk about the aspects that were being brought, the development that she was authorized to go into as far as Dany was concerned.

But the questions of her celebrity co-workers, who she was becoming a bit more well-acquainted with as they fought to protect or destroy humanity, always bothered her.

Most of the time, she'd dismiss any questions with a "Well, we don't really talk much on-set." Because the faces she saw away from the lights and the makeup were very different from the faces she saw covering magazines and posters.

Jane

[offensive.livejournal.com]

It was raining that day.

Jane could remember every single detail, clear as crystal. It was shitty visibility, and people had up paper umbrellas all over, and the festival below continued on.

Jane had been given the location, and the seat number. She usually didn't have such unclear directives, but apparently this was such a high-profile hit, that her usually sound intelligence had been unable to find a clear photograph of him.

So she'd had to take what she had, and chosen her sniper rifle for the occasion.

She stood on the roof across from where the show was commencing under a thick waxed paper rooftop to keep the rains at bay, her hair clinging to the back of her neck. As she carefully scoped out the situation, she noted the minimal security, and wondered how the hell this guy had managed to evade photo. Barely four guards, and none of the idiots were even surveying the roof line, which was always the most dangerous.

There was something bothering her. She'd had the dream again, the one she'd had before leaving for Tokyo. She'd never had the same dream twice, and that bothered her.

Blood, pouring from where their hearts used to be--

a flash of negative, floating away in the darkness, replaced by

smiling faces, warm and happy and loving--

She shook her head, clearing it, before lining up the shot, and loading a round into the chamber of her beloved rifle, lowering her eye to the sight.

After a moment, she pulled the trigger.

Neat, jacked hollow-point rounds that spread on impact. Deadly, but kept the penetration to a minimum. She really liked that, because really, who wants to kill more than what you're paid to kill?

The target slumped in his seat, and from her vantage point, she could hear the screams. She started to pull away from the edge before the security spotted her and returned fire, when her sight jerked, and she noticed the woman sitting beside the man she'd just killed.

She had memorized those brown eyes that were now staring in shock and horror and the man who used to be her husband.

Jane jerked back from her weapon seconds before bullets rang from the street towards her location, falling to her back, her mind reeling.

I have just killed my grandfather.

The thought was disturbingly calm.

And with that, she grabbed her gun, and moved.

Re: Jane

[ririkit.livejournal.com]

....♥

Poor dear.