Wednesday, January 27, 2010

More than Pixels

Shared Topic:
If you gave your character a voice, how would a conversation between you and them go? How would you interact with them? Would you play god? How would your character sound? Would they be intelligent, witty, or be the embodiment of the stereotypical "huntard"?

Posted by Azryu of The Arcanery.

We face each other across the tiny jungle clearing. Everything around us is a riot of color and sound; the intense green of the flora, the shrieks and growls of the jungle predators, and the softer rustling of creatures through the trees.

It is clear to me that she has chosen this place. It’s not the kind of place I would have imagined her in. I picture her in barren places: deserts and wastelands. Places that others have given up on. Places where warlocks and necromancers thrive.

We study each other for a long moment. I know her, of course. Marariel. I wrote her story. I know everything about her. Or, at least, I thought I did. Realization crosses her features slowly. She recognizes me. She knows who I am.

Marariel smiles, but it is a derisive expression.

I knew you were a fool, but deserts and wastelands? A person can see, be seen, for miles in such a place. Here in the jungle, two people can walk almost side by side and never know it. It is safer here.

Safer? Probably. But what is there to hide from now? Why are we here? Marariel should be in the frozen wastes at the roof of the world; fighting alongside her guildmates against the scourge. She watches me as I think, still smirking. She can hear me.

I am not hiding. I am waiting. We are ready.

I laugh. We are not ready. Marariel scowls at me, but she knows I am right. We both know. Angry, she begins to pace the small area. I am surprised by her obvious impatience. I suppose I am the patient one.

I wonder why she chooses to wait alone. I know she is neither a social outcast nor a social butterfly. This is a trait we share. We care greatly for select groups of people, but very little for people as a whole. Marariel is watching me again; intrigued, perhaps, by my thoughts.

When will we be ready?

I am watching her now. This is the part of her that frightens me. Marariel is eager to rejoin the fight at the front lines. Until now we have been cleaning up after others, in a sense. Fighting smaller battles while the heroes take their challenge straight to the Lich King’s front door. She is ready to be a hero. But am I?

You limit me!

She is scowling again, yelling, angrier than before. But I smile. I can accept this. I am the limiting factor, true, but it is my right to be so.

1 comment:

  1. Very cool, you have a good sense of voice here-
    most cool indeed!