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Character Desired: Ignatious Chambers
Time Zone: PST
Notes: Your sample was… absolutely… amazing. <3
Name: Jennie
Age: 13
How active will you be?: Pretty active.
Why should I accept you?: Because I’m awesome; I’m friendly and a damn good writer.
Sample of your third-person writing (at least a paragraph): As soon as Jeremy got out of the shower, he felt a bit better. He was still in an uncomfortable state of mind though, rushing through with thoughts of What’s wrong with you Jeremy Williams Morgan Marnek? Why can’t you just not be in love with Bri? Why aren’t you good enough for her to love you? Why are you so bloody stupid? He sighed. He was really starting to hate being alone, but being out was worse. Everything was just miserable. But his bed was comfortable. It was a safe haven. He was always alright while lying in bed.
He sighed, getting dressed quickly. Going for a stroll in London might be exactly what he needed. He jammed his feet into a pair of shoes for the first time in a long time and started out.
He had no idea where he was going to go. He hadn’t planned anything, like the idiot he was. He instead began to look around, going in no direction in particular. He passed several pubs and cafes and shops but really got him was the people.
The people all had their own stories and you could see them in their eyes. Not only in their eyes but in who they were talking to, how they were talk to them, what they were doing, how often they were checking their phones. These people fascinated him.
A little girl was skipping rope on the side walk with two other girls about her age. She looked so happy and cheerful all Jeremy wanted to do was jump into the middle, he would have had he had some one with him who thought it was funny or cute, but it would be classically considered creepy otherwise, so instead of jumping the rope with the girls, he walked around them and took a right, he had no idea where he was going and he wasn’t sure he cared.
He had apparently landed himself in a more quiet area of London as there weren’t many people around.
But, around this corner a woman about his age was yelling passionately in what Jeremy assumed was French at a man who looked rather cross with her but didn’t seem like he was willing to shout back at her.
He smiled at the woman halfheartedly and continued on his way, hands deep inside his tweed jacket pockets. Another woman a little down the road perhaps a bit older than him, maybe in her 30’s was walking down the street in the opposite direction and wiping her eyes of tears. She wasn’t wearing her shoes, she was holding them in her hand. He looked over at her smiled, and with a little bit of a weak effort, she smiled back.
Jeremy had managed to keep his mind away from Bri for an hour now. Thinking about other people had been enough.
He smiled down at the ground and looked around. This city was lovely. Really it was, all the structures were lovely and well done. This lead to another thought, some one out there designed those buildings. Some one out there drew up the plans for those buildings and had dreams for what those buildings would be like. Some one had stayed up endless nights dreaming up these beautiful buildings. The people who designed these buildings had family, had lovers, had children maybe. No one really thinks about that, all the people behind the things we see on a daily basis, and that was what inspired Jeremy finally.
Casually he turned around and started back to Ivory with a smile on his face.
He felt a lot better, some sort of twisted mixture of the cold London air and thinking about other people had lead to a sort of a comfort and peace that he hadn’t felt since he first arrived at Ivory, perhaps before.
He walked up to the door of his room and paused.
He didn’t want to go back in there. There was so much in there that would hurt him. So instead he walked around to the art building and sat down, grabbing a canvas and beginning to sketch out a scene.
First the background, a small, soon to be red and white studio apartment, with windows revealing a large and busy, rushing London. Then the floor, wooden and smooth. Then a couch. Then a side table with picture frames on them. Then small little nearly indistinguishable children and a woman with blond hair. Then a desk. Then a man, small and indistinct, with no face, but with a body and a skinny red tie. Then before the man on the desk a sheet of paper with a building that Jeremy had seen before that day drawn roughly before him.
Jeremy smiled at his work and grabbed some paints and began to color it in, bringing the scene to life.
