Hello fellow writers!
So, I thought that we could sort of up the ante (is that the correct use of this expression? idk) on the ‘talk about the previous name’ and ‘what would they be named’ threads- writer style. So, I got the idea from some of @EJpuddlejumper’s posts trying to find names for her characters, but here it is: One person will say a name, and then the next poster will give a very eloquent description of a person they think that name suits- there are several ways you could go about this. For example:
P1: [name_f]Annabel[/name_f] [name_f]Grace[/name_f]
P2: Her ([name_f]Annabel[/name_f]’s) curtain of blond hair parted for a moment, and I could at once see the profile of her delicate features. Her piercing eyes, green as the clorophyll-filled leaves on the elm tree, met mine as my gaze traveled over her pale nose, dotted with elegant freckles, and to her upturned mouth, cranberry lips tilting into a smile.
So like, a description of appearance from another person’t point of view (or it could be themself, looking into a mirror)
OR:
P1: [name_f]Annabel[/name_f] [name_f]Grace[/name_f]
P2: [name_f]Annabel[/name_f] strained to reach the apple, dangling so tantalizingly out of reach. She loved gallivanting through her aunt’s apple orchard, climbing the trees and relishing in the cool shade of the leaves as the juice of the sweet apples met her tongue. But this tree’s branches were too knotted and twisted to climb, and besides, this one delightful apple was too far away from the trunk anyway, even if she had been able to climb it. [continues in this manner]
So like, a moment in their life
Or it could be like a description of personality and things the person likes to do. And it doesn’t have to be a person! It could be a monster, a dog, an elf… the person writing the response can choose.
And then, the person who just responded gives another name, for the next person.
Let me know if it would be more fun to do it the opposite way! Either works.
So, the first name is [name_f]Rosemarie[/name_f] [name_f]Eliza[/name_f].
Have fun!
A laughing face ([name_f]Poppy[/name_f]’s) suddenly peered out through the leaves of a nearby tree as I strode through the edge of the woods. Her straw colored hair swung about as she abruptly flung herself upside down, so she was hanging merely by her knees. She let out a whoop of glee as she started swinging, capri leggings protecting the inside of her knees from the harsh branch. She was a small girl, perhaps nine years old, and I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her. But I was also curious- I had never seen anyone in this section of the woods before. I stayed a short distance away, half-hidden by shrubbery as I watched her amble around the tree as easily as if it were the ground. Not wanting to bother her, I took a different route home that day.
Next name: [name_u]Maria[/name_u] [name_f]Aster[/name_f]
She could usually be found sitting in the bay window that gave a breathtaking view of the darkness beyond, speckled with pinpricks of billions of galaxies. There she sat, strapped in to allow for the allusion of gravity. In her hand was a mug of steaming drink. Her bobbed dark hair fanned behind her head, and outside the window, the sun’s corona cast a halo around her. For almost a year they’d been up here, and the initial awe of being in space had almost lost its charm. However, [name_u]Maria[/name_u] hadn’t become ordinary to her. Anything but, if she was being honest with herself.
Finally, she composed herself. “[name_u]Maria[/name_u]?”
Chester smiles, making me flinch. He is everything I could never be, a picture of charm and friendliness sitting in front of me, always out of my reach. Whenever I try to be like him, whenever I try to put that sparkle in my eyes like him, or perform that perfect, sincere smile that takes everyone’s breath away, it doesn’t work. His eyes are the darkest of grays, a door always ready to open, ready to show himself. He doesn’t have to hide away, his perfect imperfection.
i’m not sure if ‘kadet’ is part of the name or a title (like cadet) but i’ll take it as the title:
in all aspects, seraphina fits her name. tall, regal, with an air of superiority, elegance, and just a hint of pride. like her namesake, her skin is perfect, smooth and blemish-free, her face a mask of stoniness. she’s not a cadet for nothing, and in fact the opposite: she will show them the difference between girls and women. she will be the reason for the academy to continue accepting female cadets.
Lucien [name_u]Rain[/name_u] has longish, straight, dark brown hair that’s oily and pale skin. He’s tall and skinny, with bony hands and long feet. He’s quiet, always thinking about something, and it’s never something good. Often, he’s plotting the downfall of the people who killed his family and imagining his own rise to power…
umm well I’ll do [name_m]Lucien[/name_m] [name_u]Rain[/name_u] again.
I looked at the name on the card and the face of the young man in front of me, and silently remarked upon how wonderfully they fit. “[name_m]Lucien[/name_m] [name_u]Rain[/name_u] (LN),” he said, extending a bony hand with long, slender fingers. “And you are?” I stated my name as I took his hand. His piercing green-gray eyes and slick black hair gave him a striking appearance. He raised one eyebrow at me and parted his pointed lips.
Jessamy’s long blue dress swished as she glided down the stairs. Her head was raised to stare just above the crowd below her, not meeting anyone’s gaze, even as her suitor took her arm. She carried herself with such dignity that it took my breath away. Her red lips were pursed, and her blue eyes sparkled in the light of the chandelier. Her usually frizzy chocolate hair had been tamed into an elaborate bun. It was as though her mere presence was a performance put on by an esteemed actress.
Next name:
[name_f]Britni[/name_f] [name_f]Raquel[/name_f]
“[name_f]My[/name_f] name’s [name_f]Britni[/name_f], spelled B-R-,” she stopped when she saw the man at the counter gave her that look. That “I know how to spell [name_f]Britney[/name_f]”-look. He didn’t say it, but she knew he was thinking it. [name_f]Britni[/name_f] did her best to look fierce, but not mad, as she continued to spell it out. No one took her seriously when she got mad. That stupid round face of hers together with the large doe eyes and the tiny body still made her look to much like a child for that. Maybe she should dye her hair blue, she thought not for the first time. That way she’d at least look a rebellious 18 instead of the 16 everyone assumed, when she was, in fact, 22.
next: [name_m]King[/name_m] Celador III
(king as a title)
Twenty minutes after mum called “lights out”, I heard scuffling behind the baseboard across the room. That much was normal: we live in an old house in the bush, and come [name_f]May[/name_f] every single year mice like to migrate inside our walls to make a nest against the chill of winter. But tonight was not normal, because the scuffling sounded a heck of a lot like… shouting. Someone was screaming inside the baseboards! And in Shakespearian! So I crawled down from my bunk, and tried to wake [name_m]Bron[/name_m], but she was out. Totally out. I envy my sister because she can sleep instantly, and through everything. I could have a literal dance party in the middle of the room, music turned up to 11, and she would not stir one wink. Anyway, I nabbed her phone, flipped on the torch, and hesitantly crossed the room. Then I freaked. Like, screamed so loud your ears would have burst if you’d been there. Unless you were [name_m]Bron[/name_m]. See, standing in front of me, about 6cm tall, was an imp - like, an actual imp! Wide as a brick, and just as ugly. But he was wearing the cutest little royal getup, complete with cape and jewelled crown at a jaunty angle. “[name_m]Little[/name_m] maid,” the creature spoke, “I am [name_m]King[/name_m] Celador III and I have lost my way.”
St. [name_m]Ansel[/name_m] Braithwaite’s knees creaked as he kneeled down on the cold stone floor and rested his elbows on the hard wooden pew. As the first man in the all of Ludenia’s history to ever be made a saint while still alive, there was a lot of pressure on him. Everyone assumed that he never did anything wrong, that he could heal anyone that needed it, and that his advice was worth more than anyone else’s. St. [name_m]Ansel[/name_m] knew the truth, though. As he pleaded god for forgiveness, he felt an overwhelming sense of desperation, a worry beyond anything he had ever felt. What would happen if, and when, the inevitable happened?
“Ladies and gentlemen!” came a shout from the front of the room. I rolled my eyes, already knowing what was coming next.
“The esteemed [name_f]Lady[/name_f] [name_f]Benedetta[/name_f] Raggio!” The room erupted in applause as the lady herself stepped daintily through the doors, her hundreds of layers of violet skirts swishing around her. Her pale hair was piled high in a mass of curls no one could hope to recreate ever again, her lips and nails painted matching shades of red. She waved primly at the crowd, grinning at some young man to her right who would never hear from her again.
Finally, the musicians struck up a dancing tune, and [name_f]Lady[/name_f] [name_f]Benedetta[/name_f] made her way, grinning, to my side. “[name_m]How[/name_m] did I do?”
next name: [name_f]Aria[/name_f] St. [name_f]Claire[/name_f]
I think I’ve fallen in love. I spent the week on a work trip to the Isle of [name_m]Man[/name_m], in the Irish Sea. If you ever visit, in the middle of an old market square near [name_m]Kirk[/name_m] [name_u]Michael[/name_u], you’ll find a bronze statue of a young woman. She wears traditional dress (a sort of waistcoat over a linen shirt, and calf-length skirt with intricate Celtic brocade dancing along the hem), but in place of a bonnet, she sports a circlet of flowers in her slightly wavy hair. In one hand, she holds a hymn book. But in the other she holds a snake. And the snake’s head shines brightly from years of rubbing for luck. I found her on my first lunch break, and returned to eat lunch with her every day. No one can tell me anything about her, beyond her name on the plaque “[name_f]Aria[/name_f] St. [name_f]Claire[/name_f]”. But I think she’s the most beautiful person I have ever seen. And, you can’t tell anyone this, because they will think me mad - but on my last day, I stole a kiss and - I swear to you - she winked at me.
Next name: [name_u]Nico[/name_u] and [name_m]Lief[/name_m]
Nico and [name_m]Lief[/name_m] are twin brothers that can’t stand each other. They share a bedroom and destroy all of their knickknacks in their massive fights. [name_m]Even[/name_m] worse, they both have a crush on the same girl and are always fighting about who will ask her to the dance, who will be her partner for the project, who will talk to her during lunch… Everyone is super tired of [name_u]Nico[/name_u] and [name_m]Lief[/name_m], always fighting…
Next name: [name_u]Marley[/name_u] [name_f]Katherine[/name_f]
I start my second year of law school at UVA in the spring. Thanks for encouraging me to transfer! I’m excited and nervous, but I know I can do this. I went out and bought a new (second hand) briefcase.
You’ll be happy to know, I’ve also taken up a sport. Well, sort of a sport - swing dancing. I found an old floral print of mom’s, size 16, and it just fit. Looked perfect with my black cardigan and the pearls you gave me on my 20th.
I met someone too. A really sweet someone, named [name_m]Oscar[/name_m]. We met at my swing class, and bonded over the fact that we both had sweaty hands. [name_m]Don[/name_m]’t worry Aunt [name_f]Judy[/name_f], he is very kind. Not at all like [name_m]Brian[/name_m]. He’s always encouraging me, and saying sweet nothings to me about being his chocolate-brown-eyed girl.
Oh, and thanks for recommending the Curly Girl Goat Shampoo. It’s fantastic! Finally, my hair isn’t an unruly mess. I’m actually shocked every time I see myself by how good my curls look now. And to think, I used to stress about straightening them.
[name_u]Love[/name_u] and Kisses,
[name_u]Marley[/name_u] [name_f]Katherine[/name_f] [name_u]Bennett[/name_u]
The girl knew [name_f]Griselda[/name_f] was in the room before she even walked in. The old woman’s waifish figure had hovered very near ever since her death last semester, and the girl always spotted [name_f]Griselda[/name_f] just a few feet away.
The girl tossed her books on the table. “Hey, G, how are you doing?”
It was a joke. [name_f]Griselda[/name_f] never spoke. Instead she stared at the girl with her empty eyes. Cold, mournful, empty eyes. The girl knew that those eyes meant something for her, some vision into her destiny, but [name_f]Griselda[/name_f] kept her cards close to the vest.