Writers - who's your best character?

[pantsoffdanceoff]

I had to write some plays for a drama production. My favorite character was the Narrator (Bob), the horny bastard. Since he was the narrator he was essentially god in the play, unless he ran into troubles with his supervisor at the Narration Foundation.

 

[Beffudled Sheep]

Unfortunately I am not a writer. My dreams of becoming one were dashed by mean highschool teachers. I do think I wrote up a basic character while drunk one evening.
I will post it if I can find it.
Edit: Aha, found it!
Wow this is terrible. There is no story, just a basic character outline.

From what I can read from my drunken garble note the characters name is Joseph "The Jelleybeaner" Marione.
He was traumatized as a child by his mother. She did some horrible sexual things to him involving jellybeans. He became a sociopathic rapist murderer. His crimes all involve jellybeans. He is short balding caucasian man of scottish heritage. He also leads a somewhat normal life as a male maid.

The rest is garbled nonsense.

I'll take two of whatever you were drinking. It must have been made out of distilled inspiration.

I hate to say this but, what do you mean distilled inspiration? (curse my tiredness)

 

[Friendlymetroid]

I have quite a few characters I have made (Between stories and games)

My favorite RPG game character I made was for the pen and paper RPG Shadowrun, he is named Maxwell Royce, with the alias 'Xirtan'. He is a mental assylum escapee that is so immensely insane that his insanity doubles over onto itself so that he is a genius. He is an assassin that works with his brother named 'Adrian' who is a schizophrenic hacker who gets some amount of clairvoyance from listening to the voices in his head.

My favorite character in a story I thought up would have to be Mel.
His name is short for Meltdrone571, he is a learning robot made out of a black liquid that can take any shape. The cool thing about Mel is that he is a learning robot, and he starts the story with no way to form coherent thoughts or even identify and make sense of his surroundings. The cool thing about the character is that since the story takes place in first person, you can see him grow and learn,as he becomes less of a robot, and more of a living being. It was more of a concept, I tried writing it but I just couldn't do the character justice. I pretty much dropped the story but I liked the character ever since I doodled him on my notes in Civics.

 

[shufflemonkey16]

I had to write some plays for a drama production. My favorite character was the Narrator (Bob), the horny bastard. Since he was the narrator he was essentially god in the play, unless he ran into troubles with his supervisor at the Narration Foundation.

Now that sounds like some good material.

 

[Jason Danger Keyes]

A guy in a song I wrote who kills his girlfriend and tries to apologize her back to life. It's intended as a wake-up call to women in abusive relationships who refuse to believe that their men are shit.

 

[LongAndShort]

Mr Frost to all but a very select few who he allows to call him just Frost. Australian, former SAS, spends his time now as a gun for hire doing government dirty work, tends to get contracts with British or German Intelligence most. Drinks a lot of scotch and vodka. Just about all of his friends are dead and his survival haunts him. Medium height, very strong but doesn't look it, wears an overcoat in which he hides various weapons, unmemorable face (useful in his line of work) except when angry. Rarely speaks. Has feelings for a girl he sometimes works with known as Scrag, who is allowed to call him Frostie in rare private moments.

He was a character i had in a short story a little while ago (one which I have since lost) and he has been my favourite since. He was a minor character who worked as a 'babysitter' (guardian) for my main characters who were working for MI6 to take out a Sicilian arms-dealing family. I really enjoyed making a real badass, often frightening character who is emotionally crippled by his seeming invulnerability. I'm thinking about expanding the story into a book and giving him a much greater role.

 

[Beffudled Sheep]

snip

Thank you. But all that creativity is in here *knocks head*
It unfortunately is usually locked away due to my teachers forcing me to lock it away.
Now, if only I could learn how to write cohesive stories while drunk I should be set.
Oh and I know you were joking but
5 shots of cheap tequilla
4 shots of some kind of whiskey
a glass of scotch
and a sip of authentic moonshine.
I think.
Edit: I got a friend working on deciphering the rest of the note.

 

[TheLastCylon]

Tiberius Casimir- Submarine captain and amateur time traveller in a steampunk world in which his queendom's economy is dominated by the underwater ruins salvaging industry. He has a very quirky sense of humor, including running through his submarine's crew quarters naked and then locking himself in the ship's library, giggling like a madman. He is also carries around a big ass harpoon gun. Always. Even to his son's wedding.

 

[1066]

My favourite and most interesting character to date is a woman named Melissa. Fairly standard fare of someone forced into a situation they didn't expect, save that she's been living it for years now.

Her defining point is that she is, in many ways, remarkably average in most ways. What makes her special is the attitude she has in dealing with problems. In general she's learned that the best answer to most problems is to try to punch a hole in it to find the solution, and will even if scared, angry, remorseful, etc. She's fun to write.

 

[historybuff]

I think the most fun I had writing a character was when I was writing about an old airship captain named Jeremiah. He was spacey, forgetful, about fifty-four years old, almost awkwardly honest and he liked to drink and talk about the old days in the war.

I never had more fun than I did when I was writing for that weird old guy.

 

[alwaysrockon]

both of mine have no names but here are their short stories (less than a 1000 words each)

Spoiler

I hit the road.

Lights flashed by my unweary eyes. Cars zoomed up and down the road ceaselessly. No wants, no needs, no memories. My empty car, others empty faces. Day. Night. Day. Night. My foot lay on the gas pedal and eased slowly and faster. For me, there was no stop to this madness.

Lines on the road, shoulder passing my glazed eyes. People in the towns, people in their streets, people in their cars. People laughing, people crying, happy people, arguing people...empty people.

Night. Day. Nightlight. The moon shines brightly into the dim lit roads. Crowds and masses lived by that moonlight. But sometimes...no moon at all. People worshiped the night. The nightlight. The night watch. For people night meant outer-life. Meant true life. It meant sex. It meant intimacy, love, ecstasy. Dirty and nasty, or happy and clean, night meant sex. You could see it in their eyes. People's wavering, squirming eyes.

Daylight. Daylight. Day. The sun beating down on a cold, lively world. Emotion full, rational mixed. Day. Bigger cars roared by in the day. Boldness and courage roared by at day. Full life at day. No true closeness. Just life. Just vibrations and words.

Day. Night. Day. Night.

Everything passed my eyes. People passed my eyes. Life and death flashed by like nothing. My vision was blurry and weak but I kept going on my ungodly mission. Oblivious yet omniscient to the world beside me. My face was neither stamped with depression nor filled with happiness. I was nothing. I was nothing. I was nothing. But I saw all. I knew all. Lines weren't lines but people are people are people.

My brake pedal was coated with a thin layer of dust when a large automobile crashed into my car, killing me instantly. I died as I have always lived. Nothing yet everything.

Day. Night. Day. Night.

The street life didn't die because I did. The people continue walking. They continue talking. They continue fucking. I have no tombstone; I've never had a name. My glazed eyes rot in my shallow grave and above the dirt there is still day.

Day. Night. Day. Night.

Spoiler

"Always be on the look for the good guys. An' I promise ya, son. There sure aint too many of us left... in fact, our numbers look pretty damn numbered."

I looked at my fathers scar ridden face as he broke into a huge grin. Past his caked bloody lips I could see his yellow rotting teeth and bleeding gums from malnutrition. His eyes were determined but sad. Sad and scared.

"C'mon son. Lets go find some food."

As I walked hand in hand with my dying father into the ruined city I glanced toward him and he looked back with full confidence.

Later we were split up when a truck rumbled by and gunmen started firing. I had run. Like the coward I was I had run as fast as my legs could take me towards the outskirts of the city. Behind me I heard screams, grunts, and gunshots.

...I never saw my father again.

***************************************************

That was four years ago...I've never forgotten the lessons that man taught me.

When i was dying in a ditch fevered and bleeding I heard his voice break through my delusions and crawled to the safety of a abandoned house.

When I saw hundreds of wastelanders lined up and shot I remembered his words "Always look for the good guys". I knew what he meant when he said "there aint too many of us good guys".

I'm eleven now. I've never seen a "good guy" and I believe it was a fable to begin with. There is just people. Some more animal than human, some more deprived than not.

I'v seen acts that could've made me vomit for hours on end. Gnawed baby's bones, cooking human intestines, dozens of burnt skeletons. but I never vomited. I survived and I continued because in the end that's all I could do. In the end that's all anyone can do.

I live in a horrid time. One too savage for civility, in a body too frail for survival. The lives that've flashed before my eyes have been meaningless jokes. Mayhaps we could've been something. I've seen the ruins. I'v looked at the burnt down cities and rotting towns. Humanity used to be something. We used to be great. We used to be awe-inspiring, in our methods and creations.

But now....not so much.

This is our humanity now. This flea ridden, disease infested waste of space. If I've learned anything it's that the human condition is something to be acknowledged but never judged, lest we kill ourselves out of disgust. We are animals. Nothing more. Nothing less. And if society was to return, and civility rise from its blood-ridden hypocritical ashes, nothing would change. We would not, we cannot change, even with the passing of time.

Every morning I rise from a different bed to the same sight. Maybe there are "good guys" hiding somewhere in this monstrosity of a world. Maybe.

But 'till then, I'll be waiting. I don't know for what. I don't know nor shall I ever, I suspect, until my time has come.

Maybe I'll be a "good guy". Or maybe I will SURVIVE...

 

[Lord Mountbatten Reborn]

Ah, what a wonderful topic.

My favourite long-term character would be General Marcus, insane leader of the British Army.
He moved the British Army HQ to Exeter, after converting the Meterological Office into a military complex, and constantly has to fight off members of the Ethics Committee for Exeter (ECE), who usually attempt to find out how he's mistreating his men, to no avail. He tries incredibly hard to "arrange" the death of one Lieutenant Elston, one of his only competant men. The rank system in the army is a mess because of his unwillingness to give anybody ranks close to his. He has imprisoned all the other men in the army with the rank of "general" in the base's dungeon, which is filled with lethal levels of radiation. He arranges them to compete in fights to the death in the base's arena.
General Marcus started life off as an accountant before deciding to go off on holiday to Paris, whereupon his flight suffered technical difficulties. The next thing he knew he'd washed up on the Falklands. He was rescued by the British Navy who were blockading the isles at the time, and joined the army.
He is verbally affluent, despite his insanity, and doesn't actually do any work. He is obsessed with violence, and has his own political party, "The Military Dictatorship Party". He sees everyone as expendable, including the leader of the country, and is cowardly in direct battle. His battle plans are usually the worst, and most likely to get his men killed in the process. He actively attempts to impede the progress of his troops despite the fact he wishes to defeat the enemy, merely because he hates his men. He is patriotic to his country, and believes all other countries are his by right.

He is a fun character to write about as you can see.


My favourite short-term character, created for an exam, is called Gerald McFinnigan, the world's most boring man, and he was great fun to write about.

 

[ObadiahBlack]

Mine is being based around short, comic-book like stories (although I have no passion or talent in drawing, the best I can design is schematics).

Magic has been exposed world-wide with the assassination of the president, followed shortly by massive attacks on the Pentagon, Parliament, and other similar buildings worldwide. All fingers point to one man: The Arcast. Rumored to be the second most powerful Arcane in the world, this man is responsible for undoing the peace and safety that secrecy brought the world of magic...or is he?...

Simple, in a ways, but different in oh so many more.

 

[garfoldsomeoneelse]

My characters, Bella Swan and Edward Cullen.

[small]I don't like the things you people say about my books on here. >:|[/small]

 

[Ace Jackson]

I have two, I can't really choose whose better or not.

Ace Jackson, a satirical take on the image of the stereotypical action hero with a super-awesome-cool cybernetic arm that can turn into anything he can possibly conjure, as it's connected to his brain through micro-nano wiring, and the arm itself is made up of micro-crystalline nanobots that receive messages from the brain through a wired network, acting as one, as opposed to a trillion. That's paired with a basic, rudimentary structure made up of a mineral called shtindium, which is impervious to everything except anti-shtindium, which can only be found in the CENTER OF THE GALAXY!!!!! He's also got a sweet fedora which won't come off no matter what, an awesome leather jacket (bulletproof) that holds all sorts of gadgets, knick-knacks, and strawberry Twizzlers.

Trextor King of the Reptiles, once known as Arturias Spackle, a scientist who got into a fusion chamber with a komoto dragon and became a one fourth human, three fourths reptile thing. Most of his physical aspects were overtaken by the reptile DNA, except for part of his face, so he looks cooler, but also got the lack of moral standards and practices. And since he has his scientifically smart mind, he can command any species of reptile to his bidding. And since he is a scientist, he took a buttload of different types of reptiles and sped up their evolutional process to the point just before the first stages of sentience, so they're all muscular and vicious and whatnot, so that he can easily control their vicious, muscular selves.

 

[Beffudled Sheep]

Edit: Damn that bastard.

 

[Satis]

In one of my stories I had two characters Rora and Jet. They were mercinaries who faught for a living when one day Jet got bit by a werewolfish creature. At first Rora was woried that Jet would go crazy and kill him but he just turned into a wolf. Now Jet is stronger but unable to talk and acts alot like a regular dog. Rora and Jet are still mercinaries but now Jet is like a steed that can understand Rora. Because of his human side Jet still wears short pants.

 

[Satis]

I think that you have an interesting story there Mr. Jester Lord. This guy sounds like the guy every teenage boy wants to be. It would probably sell pretty well.