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Alright, so the time for DragonCon is very near, and damnato and myself will be gone from Friday through Monday. We plan to spend tomorrow doing drafts and setting up our queues, so hopefully it won’t seem like we’re too far gone!

As far as I’ve heard, getting a hold of the internet ( or cell phone signal, for that matter ) is going to be tough, considering how many people are going to be there trying to use it. I will do my best, though, to check in and read messages or keep up with drafts, so I don’t miss anything when I get back on the computer on Tuesay. I have a kik, if anyone is particularly attatched to me and would like to try to contact me over the course of the weekend, but I can’t make any promises!!

What position does your character sleep in? ( i.e; stomach, side, back, etc. ) Describe why they do this — optional.

Does your character have any noteworthy features? Freckles? Dimples? A scar somewhere unusual? etc.

Does your character have an accent? What does it sound like?

Do they have any verbal tics? Do they have trouble pronouncing certain words or getting their thoughts across clearly?

What are their chief tension areas? 

If you were to pick one song — and only one song — to describe your character, what would it be and why?

How does your character perceive themselves? Positive? Negative? Neutral?

Are they a quick thinker or do they need time to sort through their thoughts?

Does your character dream or are their nights filled with an empty blackness? Describe a dream they’ve had or a night they couldn’t sleep and what they did to preoccupy their time.

If they had a choice, would they prefer a subway or a bus for public transportation?

What do they think of creation? Do they believe in evolution or do they believe in God? What is their religion like?

Describe 5 unusual characteristics your muse has.

Have they ever been so overwhelmed they had to stop and take a break from something? 

Are they a team player or do they prefer to be solo?

Can they multi-task or must they focus on one subject at a time?

What are their best school subjects? What are their worst? List five of each.

Is your character an introvert or an extrovert? How do they handle big crowds of people?

Are they a leader, do they prefer to follow, or would they rather just stay on the sidelines altogether?

If your character was suddenly challenged, would they rather run away or stay and fight?

If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would that person be and why?

Your character has been granted 3 wishes; what would they wish for and why?

Does your character trust people right off the bat or does it take them some time to warm up to someone?

Do they prefer romance or affection? What is the quickest way to your character’s heart?

Does your character have any enemies? If so, who and why?

Do they have any weird bedroom habits? Any unusual kinks?

How does your character prepare for bed? Do they sleep at all or can they stay awake for days on end without trouble?

If your character had one thing to say to their parents before they died, what would it be?

Are they afraid of death? Do they have any regrets?

Does your character get restless when things are too quiet or do they favour solitude and silence? Why?

          the ghoul comes to a jerky stop before a closed closet, nightmare hues narrowing faintly before casting gaze back to the current resident with a feigned veil of friendliness—and it’s effortless, the way lies roll off of a tongue of gilded silver and expression hides customary apathy.

                    “ matthew—you can just call me matt. “

          and this closet—this closet should be nothing more than a coat closet, but when it is opened, there is a water heater, sure as there is a sun in the sky, and he doesn’t hesitate to climb into the closet and begin digging around behind pipes and wires.

    Well, okay. He hadn't expected this conversation        to go there, exactly. Most things couldn't surprise        him quite like this, but when the guy from the gas         company starts asking you about the sex life of        the ghosts in your house, it tends to throw you a        little bit. He blinks his large blue eyes a couple of         times and relaxes his pursed lips before replying,

                               "--Well, Matt, I haven't heard any dead people                                  so far. It's pretty normal, really. I don't know--                                  I'm kind of disappointed. Buying the Murder                                  House willingly really is kind of sad when you                                  don't get to tell any fucked up ghost stories."

      It's a warm smile that crosses his lips--          one that says he understands. He is, after          all, a man grown from a teenager with a           less than fantastic personality. He was a          criminal from a young age-- it was not an          uncommon occurrence for him to wish pain          upon someone. He doesn't judge her for          her sour mood or her less than kind words.

     my, this one was strange. forcing      himself to stay outside. she had been      watching him for hours now, to see how      the house took to him residing within it’s      walls. she decided to visit, putting on her      best peacoat before trotting over unannounced.      when she sat next to him, she could tell already.      the house did not like this stranger.

      "Constance Langdon, right? The, uh--            the realtor lady told me about you. Said you            like to come over a lot. I moved in anyway, so            I guess it's not a bother to me. I am curious,             though-- what's so interesting about this house            that you like to come over, despite the owner?" 

          As she very well noticed at the first            few   keys.    Usually   she’d    let   a           stranger get on with  whatever they           believe brings them euphoria, only           on  rare  occassion finding  herself            intervining   slolely   because   they            were  being a  nuisance.  This was             one of those  c i r c u m s t a nc e s. 

                                           Walking away  from  the  leather                                             chair    she     was     previously                                              enjoying,      currently      leaning                                             against   the   cafe’s  piano  with                                             p i e r c i n g      eyes      and      a                                              solemn expression. At least she                                             she ceased on  the bagel option.

       "Not yet-- I still have to finish the song!"

              Has he lost it? Maybe. Maybe he won't die                in that house like everyone thinks he will.                Maybe he'll die in this cafe, at the hands                of the girl who's leaning over the piano                in the most threatening manner he's ever                 witnessed. Strange how a badly played                song can bring out such a n i m o s i t y.

                    He cuts it short despite his insistence on                      playing it all the way through, and once                      he's done he rests his elbows on the                       keys, chin in his hands, and stares up                      at her with a couple blinks of his eyes.