EXERCISE Reflection

Discussion in 'REFINING WRITING' started by Zen, Sep 19, 2012.

  1. [​IMG]

    Have your character look at themselves in mirror and write our their actions and thoughts. Pay special attention to their thoughts! Not only is this a good way for you to visualize how your characters look, but also to figure out their insecurities. Perhaps you could have them be doing something in the mirror, perhaps applying make up, taking out their contacts or something of that sort. Try to find a way to freshen this up!

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  2. Orion pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the floor, as he waits for his shower to warm. He is about to tug at his pants when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror his mismatch eyes narrow in disgust at the sight of himself. His body is littered in scars, he turns and looks at himself cautiously. He hates his scarred body and finds it appalling, he runs his fingers over his shoulders and chest. Shaking his head he turns away with a soft growl.
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  3. Robin walked down a hall of an empty house, only to pass by a large mirror. She paused and looked at herself for a long time. Her skin was a pale grayish color and stitching littered her body. She had seen the familiar face many, many times. The girl knew every stitch on her body and where every loose string could be...and yet she still constantly wondered what she was. 'I'm a monster...? It seems that way to the world. I'm dead, there's no doubt.' Robin pulled a thread on her wrist to reveal the bits of cotton stuck in her. 'I'm also a doll. An undead doll.' With a small frown she stared at herself, eyeing every little feature again. "But I am me...and I like me." Robin sighed before smiling again. She pushed her hair behind her ears to get a better look at herself. 'No matter what was done to me and no matter what others may think,' "I see nothing wrong. Not any more." The young woman gave a triumphant nod before continuing her trek.
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  4. Veronica had gone to an amusement park and was walking around when she spotted a house of mirrors.She remembered how much she enjoyed it as a child so she entered to reminisce about her pleasant memory.She walked down the hall until she saw the first mirror witch made her body look warped and crazy,'How amusing.'She thought moving some to affect the image.She laughed a little then continued on to the next mirror that made her look fat,'It seems I need to lose about 200 lbs.'She thinks jokingly then she walks to the next.The mirror made her look really tall and skinny,'Looks like I had a sudden growth spurt.She laughed then walked to the area where the mirrors were in a circle.She stopped and looked at her reflection seeing a female wearing a black straight jacket that had a hood on.

    The hood hid the females eyes and her red hair was barely visible beneath it with her arms bound by the straps.The female wore black knee high platform boots that had red and black vertical stripes on the platforms of them.With the boots she wore red and black stockings with horizontal strips with black shorts.The females black demon tail could be seen gently swaying from side to side but her horns were hidden by her hood.She was a tall female who stood at 5'8 and she grinned revealing terrifying razor sharp teeth.Veronica stopped grinning as she look at the reflection of the female,'Is that girl in the mirror really me? Have I really changed so much?'She thought feeling like she was gazing at a stranger she hadn't seen before.She began to frown as she wondered who had she really become.

    A terrifying,blood thirsty,psychotic killer?The more she thought about it the more lost and confused she felt.Then a feeling she hadn't felt since she was a child reawakened inside of her heart.It was pain from a memory that she tried to suppress.It was of other demon kids making fun of her and calling her a freak because she didn't talk much and her teeth were different.Suddenly a dark purple aura appeared around her and hands swiftly shot out from it shattering all of the mirrors in the room with her.She grinned again,"I know who I am.I'm Veronica Carnage and I don't need any mirror to tell me that."She says darkly before the arms return to her aura.Then she silently turns and walks out feeling content.
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  5. Chase sighed and removed his school jacket then his shirt. He winced when he saw the cuts and scratches that lined his thin frame. His eyes drifted to the mirror afraid to see the spirit that haunted him, he sighed when he wasn't there. He studied himself in the full length mirror.His usually neat black hair was sticking up in places, his green eyes had bags under them from not sleeping. He traced the scars on his body some of the newer ones were still cover in blood, the spirit always dragged his knife across Chase's pale skin. He sighed again and picked up the rag to gently clean his wounds. He feared the spirit because he was beaten and he cried every time. 'Why me, why do I have to be stuck in this old house with the spirit, he's just going to continue beating me.' He thought feeling the hot stinging feeling of tears roll down his cheeks.
  6. '..so that's what weeks of no sleep looks like.'

    Fingers tipped in white nail polish caressed the glass lightly directly under the reflection of brown eyes. Dark shadows marred the tanned flesh. There was a distinctly bloodshot look to her sclera but it wasn't too noticeable if you weren't looking for it.

    'I thought it would be worse.' she mused wryly. A rough chuckle left her and the reflection disappeared in a cloud of steam. Irritation erupted from her in the form of a small noise that crawled from the back of her throat and she wiped the mirror clean again enough to see her face. There it was again. Tight, springy curls of a chestnut sheen, already beginning to frizz slightly in a messy halo around her face. A proud nose, matched with a pair of full lips that were severely lacking in color and moisture.

    What did one see when they looked at Lena Sanders?

    Sight was such a one dimensional way of viewing someone, especially for the first time. Assumptions were made, vital information skipped over.

    They wouldn't see the years of self discipline that had been drilled into her or the sacrifices she'd made to progress. They wouldn't see the reasons behind how she acted and how she was. All they would see would be the shell that kept her life essence tied to the earth.

    What would be the label people branded her with? It was an interesting concept to be sure. She had never really cared about it enough to think on it before but now that she was considering it was hard to stop. Was she considered sporty? Preppy? Nerdy? Geeky?

    Was she tall to most or was she average?

    Was her demeanor quiet or sinister?

    Did they only focus on her basic features or did they notice the details as well?

    One imagined shadow was all the difference between a thug and a businessman when one was just passing by.

    She tilted her head to the side a bit and narrowed her gaze, careful to keep her breath from hitting the surface again. Her cheeks were a bit too high to be considered flattering. Her jawline more strong than delicate. She pursed her lips speculatively as her gaze roved over the exposed plains of her face. She supposed she wasn't altogether unattractive. At least not hideously so. Her build was slender and her figure curved, if only a bit. Those were classic signs of femininity so she didn't think she could be confused with the opposite gender easily.

    At best Lena Sanders would be another face in the crowd to anyone who cared enough to look.

    At worst she'd be the druggy in the questionable fashion choices.

    Her reflection hitched up one side of its' mouth in a smile. She could live with that. There were far worse assumptions to be drawn. Eyes twinkling, she leaned forward and breathed out heavily for a few seconds until the mirror was completely fogged over. Her hand came up once again and she drew a smiley in the condensation. Her tongue poked out cheekily at her handiwork.

    Yes, there could be much worse things to be taken for. Then again, what did it matter to her? She wasn't the type to really care. No, her more immediate focus was on whether or not the spider-monkey waving a banana at her from atop the shower rail was real or not.

    Looked real....sounded real... But her instincts were telling her that if she brought it out to show Kit she was in for an earful.

    Well in for a penny, out for a pound.

    ...If the monkey didn't have a reflection did that mean it was a vampire spider-monkey?
    #6 Controlled Chaos, Dec 13, 2014
    Last edited: Dec 14, 2014
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  7. Neko walks up the stairs to his new dorm that the teachers had assigned him after the first day at the school. This school was called Kristofferson High and this high-school, was not for regular people. This large academy was for people with special skills, Neko's best friend was a guy that could talk to the dead and uses his mind to do stuff. Earlier that day some bullies were making fun of him for his stench. Though Neko endured the incident, his friend had advised him to take a bath or shower instead of licking himself.

    Neko unlocks his one person dorm with the key that the principle had given him. He opens the door to a small space with a bed, a dresser (that he didn't have a use for since the only par of clothes he had were the one he was wearing), another door witch lead somewhere else, and a small desk for study. He was dreadfully unconformable in this small dorm room. He walked inside and felt a chill down his spine he started to remember why he hated small spaces, his mother would lock him in the closet. Neko would cry and cry, and plead to be let out. He head over to the other door and opened to to see a bathroom with sink, toilet, and a corner shower.

    Neko looked in the mirror above the sink and saw his face with his two cat-like ears and his matching light brown hair. His ear twitched and he scratched it with a hand. When he sees it he chuckles and smiles reveling his two shinny small fangs which he adored so much. He took hand and commenced to lick it but as he remembered what Lucus had said "I advice you dearly, you should really clean your self off and none of that licking that you keep talking about." he turned on the shower and took off his clothes. He flinched as he headed in to the warm water.​
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  8. The teen stormed up the stairs to the bathroom, once again slamming the door so hard that the bottle of mouthwash fell over into the sink and poored out. 'Elizebeth!' came the enraged shout. Eli only locked the door. It was a weekly routine for every Monday. Wake up. Dress. Get ready. School. Home. Fight with aunt. Go upstairs.. She stared into the mirror and was disgusted by what she saw. Many of the boys at the presitigious academy she attented said she was beautiful, but she told them to leave her alone and stop trying to get in her pants. Well, she used words stronger than, "Leave me alone", but that didn't matter. Eli stared at the mirror, in disbelief she was so.. So.. Ugly. Long, auburn hair that trailed down to her ribcage, reflecting the soft lights of the room, hung in ringlets over her left shoulder. There were exactly 13 of them. She saw the 13 freckles that adorned her face, scattered across the bridge of her nose. The thick, midnight black lashes above her jade green eyes. Those were the only things she liked about herself, her eyes. She remembered about how he would stare into them. A single tear trickled from those eyes down her porcelain white cheek. It left a glittering trail, and she caught it with her tongue. It was salty and bitter, just like everything in her life. He was always perfect. In every way. Eli felt beautiful with him, and felt enlighted, happy. She felt loved. But then he'd been hit by the car. The one that should have hit her, and killed her, not him. Her thin, pink lips let out a choked sob as she fell to her knees, her gaze drifting to her arm. 13 bangles.. 13 coloured bangles he had bought her. Her aunt had told her to get over it. Get over him! But she couldn't. She never would. She shakily rose to her feet and gazed at herself in the mirror. Elizabeth Reddington Dallas was ugly to herself. She was a failure. Broken. Dying. And there was nothing they could to fix it. Because he wasn't there. Because Lucas was dead and gone and she could never bring him back.
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  9. The ice where Ayato meditated was like glass.

    It had been polished that way, of course, and cut carefully into facets that bounced the morning sun at many different angles. The brightness of it all was intended to challenge his focus. He didn't find it to be a bother anymore.

    A wind drifted up from the mountain's side, stirring a fine dust of snow crystals into the air around the cross-legged young male. Ayato's eyes opened after having been closed for a great deal of time. His silvered breath dispersed, and the samurai quite presently found himself staring down at his own reflection.

    He watched the mountain winds snatch at strands of of stark white hair-- though a majority of it was always kept tied back, the scattering of bangs and longer sections by his ears were impossible to control. Ayato's pale brows quirked together slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a thin-lipped frown. No wonder the other monastery children had thought he was a ghost the first night he'd arrived. He certainly looked the part. Off-white eyes, lashes flecked with snow, regarded his mirror-self from a refined, almost porcelain face. One half expected a person to be dead with an expression like that.

    Embarrassed to catch himself in a moment of vanity, Ayato suddenly blinked and tilted his head away from the polished ice. The samurai rose to his feet. It was time to go back.

    As if he had never been there, his body unraveled into snowflakes and scattered on the winds.
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  10. FLUSH!

    Peet couldn't help feeling the oddity, him stuck in this rustic old farmhouse with a human, the snow outside so cold and thick... brrr!... just the memory almost made his nads retract again, just like that awkward moment at the front door, where he'd turned up just yesterday, chilled all the way down to his nether regions. Today?


    He still washed his hands, even though he hadn't... touched anything. A habit, a courtesy when in another's home. Careful with the towel, so his claws wouldn't shred. Attention drawn to his reflection in the sink's mirror. Flare of all four nostrils, turnback of ears as he stared. Hrrrr... looked so much like his father. Same deep shine to his emerald eyes, burnished glow on forest green scales from elbows to clawed fingertips. Even his fur coloration and markings... well, he was still young... still just a "teenager," as humans figured it.

    Peet stuck out his tongue... made a "drooly" face in the mirror. Which understandably lead to more faces. Ears down and back, teeth exposed in a fake, silent growl. That "hand in a cookie jar" look. Even... heh... even an imitation of his sister's wide-eyed puppy-dog plead. He tried not to laugh... caught himself... looked around the bathroom guiltily.

    Then sighed.

    A serious look again towards his reflection, to give himself a grin, before he ruffled fur. Before he turned and gave a flare of his shroudruff and mane... a brief pose, to see how sexy he looked, despite his shroudruff's shortness. Heh.

    That would grow, in time.......
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  11. Disturbing mirror haluctionation, violence, self-hateThe sound of a blaring alarm woke 19 year old Jean from his deep slumber. The young male rubbed the sleep from his chocolate brown eyes as he roared out a yawn. He shivered as a warm summer breeze blew into his bedroom. He groaned as he threw a blanket over his shoulder. He scurried over to the window, letting the blanket drag across the floor. He slammed the window shut before he wiped his dribbling nose. "Summer chills," he mumbled through his worn down teeth. Speaking of teeth, his needed a morning brush.

    As the young man made his way into the bathroom, he decided his teeth could wait as he was eager to weigh himself. The scale read 119 pounds. Jean was proud of his accomplishment. He managed to shed 10 pounds in one week from his wheat thin and water diet. Maybe he should reward himself with a bagel for breakfast. Heck, why not enjoy it with a light spread of cream cheese? He thought to himself with a beaming smile. The young male went over to the sink with a skip in his step. There, he froze. Was it him or did he look...strange? He ran his hands through his thin frail hair, only to find dusty straw. "How?" He whispered in awe. Jean cringed as he the witness his miraculous transformation. His once chocolatey eyes became black and beady as they sank into his skull. The darkness under his eyes made him look rather frightening. His long boney fingers ran across his sickly pale skin, which held an icy touch. A field of acne grew across his face-many began to ooze out runny pus. His slender nose morphed into the snout of a pig. Crusty yellow finger nails grew and and curled as he shook with fear as fat droplets of sweat ran across his acne riddled face, which created a disgusting mixture with the popping pus. This was too much for him. This was insanity. He shirked a dreadful song of piggish squeals as bloody stones and broken glass fell from his gums where a row of worn down teeth once filled. Oh the agony of this terrible hallucination. Oh the poor boy, who suffered from his foggy mind that spat out delusions of his appearance. Perhaps he would stay inside today. He wouldn't want to stain the eyes of the people who wore such confidence and beauty. He wouldn't want the world to see the repulsive monster he truly was. He grabbed a nearby hair brush and shattered the mirror with a single blow.
    But one was not enough. He gasped as a web of fragmented refections of his repulsive self emerged from the shattered mirror. He hysterically attacked the web, ignoring the shards that dug under his skin. Blood pooled into the sink as he viciously tore the mocking web apart. After there was nothing left, he took a step back to admire his work. He had slain the monstrous beast. The disturbed male turned to find the scale waiting for him. He stepped on and read 119 pounds. He was disgusted. Perhaps he would skip breakfast this morning.
    #11 Valentine Corangula, Aug 10, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 10, 2015