Meeting Your Character!

Stefan Archer

head librarian
 
Messages
18,390
OOC First Name
Emzies
Blood Status
Muggleborn
Relationship Status
Married
Sexual Orientation
hetrosexual
Wand
Knotted 12 1/2 Inch Sturdy Fir Wand with Thestral Tail Hair Core
Age
4/2015 (46)
Have you ever wanted to meet your character? Do you think you'd get along, or would it be awful? Do you think the age gap would hinder it, or do you like talking to children? Let yourself find out, make it as realistic or silly as you want.

Basically, RP meeting your characters, and let others enjoy reading it! Board rules still apply of course.
Emzies meets Stefan said:
Stefan wasn't sure how he'd come to find himself in a bar in Scotland of all places, but his life had lead him on many different directions, and so was this any different from any of that. On the other side of the room, sat Emily or Emzies as she was better known. Who stared directly at Stefan, knowing or feeling that she new the man. He felt like a creation of her head. Like she'd written a story with him in a dream. Given that it was late, this was a bar and Emzies was Emzies, she had already had a few and decided to go speak to him. She walked over, and took a seat in front of you,

"I know you from somewhere," she said to him. Stefan couldn't have been more taken aback by this action, he didn't know anyone here. He certainly didn't know this small scottish girl. He shook his head,

"I don't know you do," he assured her, the man hoped she'd go away, but alas, she did not.

"No," she insisted, "I know you,"

Emzies seemed to be rather persistent, but Stefan didn't want to be in this situation any longer. He didn't know how to make her leave without appearing to be rude. In the end he decided to give it a little longer,

"I can assure you that you don't, this is my first time to this part of the world," he replied trying to be as insistent as he could towards her. This seemed to work, Emzies leaned back in her chair,

"Hmm," came a noise she made, "I can't prove it, but I made you, I know it," she stood up, clearly opting to leave,

"We'll meet again," she said, definitely not meaning it as onimously as it came out, and she returned to the friend's she'd left in coming to speak to him, and Stefan found what he needed and quickly left. God, scottish people were weird.
 
Ooh, I love this game! I talk to my novel characters now and then (in a fourth wall-aware AU it's a good tool to think through plot problems), but I've never done it with HNZ characters before.

Apparently Hayley doesn't like fourth wall-aware AUs.
Jasmine Meets Hayley said:
Hayley strolled down the street in Brightstone, on her way to meet her friends.As she did so, she noticed a young adult woman with brightly coloured clothes approaching, and staring at her oddly.

"Hayley! It's so good to meet you!"

Hayley studied the woman warily. "How do you know my name?"

"I'm your author."

"What the f*** is that supposed to mean?"

The stranger frowned. "I guess you're not fourth wall-aware, then."

"What?"

"Look, um. This is gonna sound weird, but . . . you're a fictional character. I created you."

Hayley backed away a few steps. "Riight. And that definitely doesn't sound like something a deluded stalker would say."

The stranger chuckled, though it didn't seem to Hayley like something to be amused about. "No, I'm not a stalker, though I see the similarities." She paused. "I don't think there's anything I can say at this point that won't freak you out more. I'll just leave you to go meet the girl gang."

Hayley stiffened at the mention of her group's name for themselves. "F***! You are a stalker! Go away!" She fumbled in her pocket for her wand, but before she could pull it out the stranger disappeared.

Hayley stared at the spot where she had been. It didn't look the same as if she'd apparated, no popping noise, just . . . gone.


"A really weird thing happened on the way here, guys."



So apparently being an adult meeting your teen characters is not a good idea. I . . . didn't mean it to go like that. Oh well.
 
This is super short, but I wrote this up last week some time and keep forgetting to post.
Meeting Alana...again said:
Even though Alana was nearly (yea, I’m not confirming how far apart in age we are :p ) years younger than Cyndi, she struck an imposing image as she stepped through the doors of the diner and glanced around. Cyndi held a hand up, the young woman’s eyes finally catching her own before she made her way over. The last time they’d met, Alana had been a teenager. She still was one, but now she was also a mother and a wife and a writer. “Hi Alana” Cyndi greeted the young girl, her voice friendly, a smile accompanying her words. “Hi” Alana replied, her voice clipped as she took a seat, keeping her purse by her side. “How’s Eris?” Cyndi asked quietly. Alana looked taken aback for a moment though her gaze softened as she no doubt thought about her child. “I forget that you know everything” she said, her voice dragging on the final word. “She’s good, getting big and looking like her father more and more every day.” She smiled as she reached into her bag and handed over some pictures. Cyndi looked through them. “He’s a good dad. You were right” Alana added, though it took Cyndi a moment to recall she was referencing the last time they’d talked when she’d whispered into the teen’s ear.

“I have a question for you” Alana declared. She took her time getting to it, playing with a sugar pack as she attempted to word it. “Do you really see everything? Is Chaos going to stay out of trouble?” she asked, concern clear in her voice. Cyndi was taken aback. “I can’t see what’s going to happen to him. It’s complicated” Cyndi said gingerly, not sure what Ioan had told his daughter. She had always had the feeling Alana thought she was a Seer of sorts, but one who only saw information about her. “I know he’s trying really hard. His “she paused, deciding that explaining who Kaitlyn was to Chaos would be an overly complicated endeavor. “He loves you both. A lot” Cyndi finally finished. “I know” Alana sighed, a small, pleased smile on her face.
 

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