➳ sakura [ writing samples ]

[lxngdon]

writing samples

 

[lxngdon]

A BED OF CLOUDS

Sample type: Character description
Character: April Armytage
Roleplay: Haunted House / 80s horror movie
Word count: 381

April Armytage collects dandelion fluff, and whispers to her friends that she has found down from an angel's wings. April Armytage sees a snowflake nestle itself on her windowsill, and says hello to the fairy that is visiting her. April Armytage sees someone cry, and whispers to them that their tears are healing their broken soul. April is a girl who is entirely pure of heart, whose soul transcends her human form and exist in a realm where she dances with spirits and sleeps on clouds. Her mind and her outlook on life is entirely whimsical, and while it may seem eccentric or delusional, April is entirely happy, and she has reached a level of contentment others strive for their entire lives.

Of course, being so openly eccentric in a small midwest town has garnered April a significant amount of bullying. She is often shunned for her demeanour, and is called horrible names by her classmates. She is often shoved around and physically abused, yet, she has let nothing get to her. She is somewhat oblivious, as oftentimes, she is completely unable to tell how she is being treated. She often mistakes sarcasm for kindness, snarky comments for attempts at friendship, and rudeness for personal problems. April is very easy to take advantage of, which has caused her to be horribly mistreated in the past.

April often spends her time alone, but she does not mind solitude. She was homeschooled by her parents, travelling archaeologists who spent the majority of her childhood working in Southern Africa, the Middle East, Australia, and the Arctic Circle. April was seldom around people her own age, and she is an only child, so the only companionship she ever had was her parents. This means, despite her child-like outlook on life, she actually has the capacity to be very mature. She provides for and takes care of herself almost exclusively, and she is actually very intelligent, able to carry mature conversations and learn new tasks incredibly efficiently. Her IQ is actually estimated to be quite high. But she does not value tertiary education or academic success. April is not the kind of person to plan -- like a stray blossom from a sakura tree, she simply likes to ride the wind, and see where life takes her.

coding by lxngdon

 

[lxngdon]

THE WEREWOLF QUEEN

Sample type: Starting post / dialogue / outfit
Character: Tiara-Jean Tremont
Roleplay: Vampire x werewolf / high school / drama
Word count: 1,065

With the exception of April, her birthday month, September was quite possibly Tiara-Jean's favourite month of the year. The return of school brought with it the return of everything she loved -- the homecoming parade, the homecoming dance, the excitement and pep that was brewed within the student faculty as the first game of the season crept over the horizon. Tiara-Jean adored the back-to-school environment and everything it brought with it, but not because she herself was overfilling with school cheer. No, Tiara-Jean Tremont loved the homecoming period because it was when she reascended her metaphorical throne and reigned over Hainescombe High School, after a long summer of being away from her loyal subjects. And of course, she would obviously be crowned Homecoming Queen. She had no doubt in her mind about it.

However, the arrival of one individual to Hainescombe had not flown under her radar. Not only was it impossible for anything to happen in Hainescombe without the Tremonts' knowledge, but the return of one Andrew Lind to their small town was monumental enough for the entire community to be aware in only a matter of days. Andrew Lind, the apparent grandson of Tiara-Jean's very own father's political rival, returned to his hometown at last after years of schooling elsewhere.

To the common folk, Andrew's presence in Hainescombe meant nothing more than the return of a small-town celebrity. But to the Tremonts, it meant everything. The leeches were trying to plant their roots in the town again -- the elder members could not stay in power forever, for they were appearing in their last few decades of life, and would therefore have to stage their own retirements soon. Andrew Lind was a seed being planted early in the rich soil of Hainescombe's political sphere. He was nothing more than an insurance plan for the Lind family. The vampires were smart, that was obvious, and their system had worked for years. But the werewolves were smarter, and Tiara-Jean knew what she had to do to maintain her own family's political success.

The wolves had been in Hainescombe for a significantly shorter period of time than the vampires. While the Linds had practically settled the town, the first record of the Tremonts in Hainescombe only dated to the 1950s, when Tiara-Jean's great uncle, Magnus Tremont, had moved there and founded the quarry that changed the economy of the town forever. Jobs had been created for countless citizens, which had rippled out into the ability to open more stores, fund more public works projects, and create more business opportunities for Hainescombe at large. The Tremont name had been cemented in a metaphorical Hall of Fame as a result -- any Tremont was treated like royalty in Hainescombe, and when Tiara-Jean and her father, CEO of Tremont Technologies Darius Tremont, had moved to Hainescombe, they had received no lesser treatment whatsoever. The people adored Darius. His factory had created even more employment opportunities for the town, and his charitable nature and general charisma made him a very well-liked local politician.

Of course, if the public knew what went on behind closed doors, they may be slightly less adoring of the Tremonts and the Linds. Very few humans would be pleased to learn that their local government was run by warring clans of vampires and werewolves. They would perhaps be even less pleased to learn that their sweet old mayor was being controlled by the aforementioned warring clans. But the less they knew, the better.

As Tiara-Jean sat in the back seat of her family's Mercedes, being driven to school by their personal driver, she opened her emails on her phone to find a request from the principal to show Andrew Lind around. It made sense for her to be delegated this responsibility -- she had been the student body president for the last two years, after all. She was pleased by the request, because it allowed her access to Andrew, which was what she had wanted the second she had learned he was back in town. Her father was ready to strike, and finally, after seventy years of conflict between the two clans, drive the leeches out of town. Tiara-Jean had delegated herself the responsibility of taking care of Andrew.

And since Tiara-Jean was very talented at manipulating people into doing what she wanted, she knew she would succeed. He would be gone by Christmas.

When Tiara-Jean stepped out of the car, every single eye in the parking lot was immediately redirected to her. She looked like a model stepping out of a luxury vehicle in a music video -- long, voluminous brown curls, half swept up into a ponytail atop her head and the rest left to cascade down her back in soft, lovely tresses. Her slender frame was clad in a tight-fitting, pink plaid skirt that ended about an inch above her knee, paired with a snug white long-sleeve shirt with a small frill at the bottom. Around her neck sat a rose gold necklace with her name as a pendant, and rose gold hoop earrings dangled delicately from her small ears. She carried a black Chanel bag, and on her feet she wore black lace-up ankle booties with a small heel that added to her tiny height. Peeking from the booties were cute socks with a frill that matched her shirt. Her best feature, of course, was her beautiful face, painted with a light coat of makeup that enhanced her already stunning features, though she did apply pink shadow and lipstick to match her outfit. Tiara-Jean was perfect, physically, in every single way -- she knew that, and she loved it.

With the confidence of an actress having just won an Oscar, Tiara-Jean strolled into the office to meet her new classmate. The smell hit her first. A vampire and a werewolf could smell each other immediately -- there was no way to miss their stench. But, regardless, Tiara-Jean strode up to Andrew, planted herself right next to him, looked up at him with a sweet and completely fake smile, and held out her hand.

"Hello, you must be Andrew," she said sweetly. Her accent stuck out like a sore thumb -- upstate New Yorkers normally did not sound like Southern Belles who were preparing for their cotillion, yet, it suited Tiara-Jean perfectly. "My name is Tiara-Jean Tremont, and I'll be showing you around this morning. It's a pleasure to meet you."

coding by lxngdon

 

[lxngdon]

RUNNING

Sample type: Starting post / dialogue
Character: Stiles Stilinski
Roleplay: Fandom / supernatural / college
Word count: 537

Stiles was running. He could hardly remember a time in his entire life where he had ran harder or faster than he was running now. His feet slapped against the pavement with a violent thud that hurt his ears. His chest heaved up and down, up and down, aching and straining with every breath he forced down his tired and overworked lungs. A thin sheen of sweat had pooled on his fair forehead and he could feel wet marks at his armpits, damp from exertion. Yet, he did not care. He continued to run as if his life depended on it -- which, in that moment, it very much did.

Because if he was late to his Ancient Greek Mythology tutorial one more time, the professor was surely going to kill him.

It was strange. In period of his life where Stiles was constantly looking over his shoulder to see what supernatural creature was trying to kill him this time, he still had to attend lectures, turn in assignments, and make sure the old bat who taught them Greek Myth did not throw her chalkboard duster at him when he walked in late. The contrast between the two sides of his life was jarring, but the normalcy of university was comforting to him. It was a sign that no matter what weird shit he had to work his way through as a result of his best friend being a werewolf, life could still go on as it had before. Though, with a lot more broken bones than usual.

Stiles kept running. As he neared the building of Beacon Hills University in which his class was being held, he checked the time on his watch, slowing down so he did not run face-first into the sliding glass doors. Ten-fifty-nine. One minute. As soon as he had cleared the doors, Stiles started running again, weaving through the few students milling about in the lobby before taking the stairs two at a time. He hurtled through the hall and belted out the last few feet as he neared room 1E. Finally, with seconds ticking away at the lock like the last few drops of blood from a broken corpse, Stiles' hand landed on the handle.

He opened it frantically and practically threw himself into the first available seat with such velocity that the wheeled chair moved a few inches and bumped into that of the girl he had seated himself beside. "Oh, shit, sorry," he said frantically to the bushy-haired brunette, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he looked up at Professor Laurin, who was glaring at him with that old crone's glare of hers.

"Just in time, Stilinski," she said patronisingly, shaking her head like an exasperated mother. She turned around and Stiles shot a glare at her, finally catching his breath after his frenetic attempt to get to class on time. He reached into his bag and pulled out his notebooks, paired with the old Ziploc bag filled with highlighters and pens that he had been toting around since the eighth grade. If he was going to risk his life with this devil of a teacher, he was at least going to make sure he took good notes.

coding by lxngdon