The challenge -- physical description as a key to character

[dwndrgn]

I don't know why I'm trying this as I don't write - but what the hey!

A cool breeze followed her flowing cloak into the room, making the fireshadows on the wall dance. You could see her workmanlike boots and the bottom of her homespun trousers but not much else. The way she moved said much more, she stood quite still but in such a way as I got the sense she was anxious to move; it was a quiet hesitation. Suddenly she pulled back her hood with a light chuckle. "Easy as pie!" Framed with a wild tangle of red hair, her smile revealed a chipped front tooth and the childish glee she took in the prank she had just played on our older brother.

Ok, I don't think I did it correctly. It was fun to try though!

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

What do you think you did wrong, dwndrgn? From where I sit, you wrote a vivid physical description which also provided clues to the woman's personality.

 

[dwndrgn]

Really? Cool. Now if only I could do more than one paragraph!

 

[The_Warrior]

Their biddy and sinister black eyes ogled at the children with interest, and curiosity; noticing that there were three, as well as three of their selves.
In front of the boys, they could see these creatures barley ate, or just starved them selves. Their skin was gray and with wrinkles atop their showing bones; with having only ripped cloths around waists for clothing.

 

[scalem X]

My favourite descriptions are by Neil Gaiman, he can sketch an image in just one or two sentences:
(in "Chivalry" Where the main character enters an oxfam bookshop)

"The shop was staffed by volunteers. The volunteer on duty this afternoon was Marie, seventeen, slightly overweight, and dressed in a baggy mauve jumper that looked like she had bought it from the shop."

So little words, yet a strong descryption.

Really? Cool. Now if only I could do more than one paragraph!

Same here

 

[Saltheart]

He eagerly ran down the staircase, his backpack bouncing from shoulder to shoulder. Before I could even finish telling him to be careful, he slipped on the wet porch and fell forward. I ran out the kitchen. There he was, holding a beam and grinning at my worried face. "It's okay. Caught myself." And before I could even say goodbye, he was off, leaping over the fence clumsily, his ankles tinkling in the rain.

Doh! That was more action than description!

 

[scalem X]

Yeah Saltheart, I can only assume that it's a character that's wearing a backpack, possibly a youngster that is careless for so far his clothes/shoes getting dirty.

But worry not, just try again and with more description.

 

[Talysia]

The dress she wore clung to her as she moved, revealing curves that were more womanly than he'd thought. After working with her for so long, seeing her in the same plain, office garb all the time, to see her in a dress was an actual shock - especially when the dress was bright red. Her blonde hair had been styled into an intricate knot, trailing one strand down her bare shoulder, and whilst she wore the most minimal of makeup there was no denying that it had transformed her. Her heels rang out as she slowly swayed past him, and he nearly dropped his glass in surprise. Was this the same woman?

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

He was small and pink, with a round, smooth-shaven face and a genial smile. He had an engaging awkwardness, a baby’s gap-toothed charm, a tubby complacency, that instantly won people’s trust. This lasted only until someone noticed the scarred hands, the missing finger, and the hilt of an energy blade sticking out of one boot. Yet those who knew him insisted that his air of expansive good-humor was no affectation; he was an assassin who loved his work.

 

[Talysia]

As bald as an egg, the scientist sat at his desk; blue, beady eyes peering intently at the contents of the beaker. His clawlike fingers drummed the tabletop in irritation, and his yellowed nails struck the wooden surface with a scratching sound every time. He glanced at his pocketwatch, taking it out of the breast pocket of his dirty white lab coat, and he frowned, making more wrinkles appear in his already lined face. 'How much longer is this going to take?' he asked the ether in a dry, wheezy voice. 'I don't have time for this!'

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

The other cooks were of ample girth -- for there was much sampling and comparing of creamy sauces and rich desserts and spiced meats in the kitchen -- but she alone was small and neat and deft. In a plain grey gown and a starched white apron (which was nearly as clean at the end of the day as it was at the beginning), with her hair pulled back into a hard knot at the nape of her neck, she approached each dish with a quiet intensity, slicing up vegetables with a few flicks of the knife, expertly rolling out pastry or crimping a crust without a single wasted movement, tasting something once and then seasoning it to perfection. Food was her passion, but she was an artist not a gourmet, and had no more interest in eating what she produced than a painter in dining on paint, or a sculptor on clay.

 

[Talysia]

In another life, he could have been a cat. His hair was short and white, but scruffy, and he kept smoothing it down with one hand behind ears that were more pointed than usual. His incisors were also more pointed than usual, and they tended to show prominently when he smiled - which was frequently, as he was a jovial kind of person. Bright blue eyes peered curiously out of a heart-shaped face, keeping track of everything around him, whilst his skin was as pale as his hair, with no trace of freckle or blemish. Even his fingernails were slightly pointed. If he'd had a tail, she thought, then she really would have thought that he was descended from cats.

 

[JDP]

Her eyes were a shade darker than midnight, presiding over features smooth and delicate as polished bone. Her brow seemed to reach too far, stretched as it was across her bald pate. The Eliandrin moved from form to form without occupying the space between heartbeats. She flowed as if motion itself was an act of pure will, the simple dynamics of muscle and bone far beneath her.

Her tiny form radiated the hard strength of diamond; perfect, natural, yet utterly unyielding; born in the fiery heart of the earth. The elegance of her stroke lent silk's grace to the silvered steel of her armour. A blade of twilight crystal sang in her hands, stopping at last to be kissed by the sheath at her belt. Content with her recovery, she raised her eyes to my own.

It does not shame me to admit that it was I who blinked first.

 

[Talysia]

It moved like something out of a dream, infinitely graceful and menacing at the same time. The figure was made of shifting fog, it seemed, and it was difficult to tell what gender it was. Even without features or eyes it was clear what the being's intent was - I could tell from the way it moved that it wanted to kill me. As I watched, a sword made of mists appeared in its' hand, and I wondered just how solid it would be.

 

[scalem X]

I like this one Talysia.

 

[Talysia]

Thanks, Scalem!

I'll try another.

Ivory horns jutted out of his head, curling out from his shaggy crop of dark hair and proving beyond doubt that he wasn't human. His eyes, green and piercing, with narrow, slitted pupils, were constantly moving, taking in every detail as he watched the others in the room. Although the clothes he wore were human, the wings on his back were most definitely not. Draconic and webbed, his wings twitched as he got up,aware of every eye on him, and his scaled tail began to swish impatiently. Why were they so suspicious of him? Moreover, what were they planning next?

 

[Culhwch]

The first line hit me on the bus this morning. The rest filled itself in during a slow morning at work...

Yuri Katanovic reminded me of my father's garden shed - unashamedly large and undeniably crooked. He had a grin so caustic you could have cleaned an oven with it, eyes that were as slow and certain as a funeral march, and knuckles that had been broken so often I wouldn't have been surprised if they could pivot in any given direction. He damn near sweated malice. But Yuri wasn't a bad guy. No, Yuri was the kind of guy the bad guys aspired to be.

 

[JDP]

I realised once I'd written this that it didn't actually use description as a key to character, but as I'd written it anyway, I thought I may as well post it!


His eyes were sharp and green and uncommonly bright. They washed over me in a heartbeat, cutting away my artfully constructed facade like a physician's scalpel. Seeing my bravado crumble, he gave a sympathetic smile. Before I knew what I was doing, my dagger was sheathed and the threats had died on my lips; this was the man Beiren had sent me across half the world to kill?

He shifted easily from my grasp, his slight form moving with a delicate precision that reminded me of an acorn's inexorable ascent to oak. He breathed softly, the air drawing soundlessly through the length of his nose. His gaze was that of an old friend; a doting father; a dedicated servant. In that moment, I knew why the HighReinherr wanted this man dead so badly; I knew that I would give my life to stop that ever coming to pass.

From beneath robes worn with age and travel, Raman reached out his hand to me. Unbuckling my scabbard, I placed it carefully on the ground, alongside my purse. Reaching under my cloak, I tore from my tunic the badge that had been my identity for more than twenty years. He stood patiently as I let go of my past. When I took his hand, Raman's smile deepened. I walked slowly away with a man who half the world feared and half the world loved; a man who would be God.

 

[Yeoman]

...the woman sneered, her hair a patchwork of black and white. Her lips, which as a child had found purchase as a smile, had grown up to cement into a neutral pose that displayed a slight sadness. A sadness dwarfed by that lurking with. Her gaze, although void of any specific emotion, conveyed unmistakeable regret cleverly camouflaged by hostility, which was in plentiful supply.


Not sure if thats right, but I quite like it.

 

[Talysia]

As tall as he was wide, there was no man more imposing. A square jaw sat atop a thick neck, and a shaggy mop of brown hair crowned an almost primitive face, although the intelligence and emotion in his eyes was plain to see. He knew the damage he could cause - with muscles like his, there was no helping it sometimes - and yet everyone expected him to enjoy it. It just wasn't fair.