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    1. AGenericUser 7 yrs ago

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What's up? I'm just a user - you might even call me AGenericUser. Sometimes I do an obscure little thing called roleplay - maybe you've heard of such a thing before? At any rate, there's not really much to tell you about myself. I like JRPGs though, so there's that I guess.

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@OliveYou

I'd imagine he'd have straight-ish hair, without bangs... I think.
I'm not entirely sure, so I'll just go with that - if that is enough.
Each time I write a new post, I ask myself 'how can I make Feine even more of a snob?'. I haven't written many jerk characters in roleplay, so I'm really going all out on this one. And boy, does it make me want to write more characters like him. Like I went into this roleplay thinking 'I want to write a jerk', and I was either going to write a delinquent, crude Greaser punk, or a snobby writer with an ego that reaches the stars. I was very heavily considering both...

Also, sorry if my post was a little late/had a few errors in it. I kind of rushed that one out, because I was on camp for all of yesterday and half of today.

@OliveYou

Feine didn't feel in any danger from his opponent. An enemy could hurt you, yes, but that didn't necessarily mean they were a threat. So, Feine thought it'd be rather entertaining to show his dominance over the humanoid spirit by doing something else entirely, while also slightly keeping an eye on his foe's attacks - then dodging utilizing wind propulsion. But, unfortunately... Feine found that this wasn't such an easy task. In the end, he ended up paying more attention to dodging the attacks from his opponent.

"You - you know what? You're rather persistent. That doesn't mean anything, of course," Feine looked the spirit in the eyes as he began to communicate with it... even if it was unable to understand him. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm a major character in the world - you're a mere spirit, hardly even a minor character. Your name will fade away, but mine will never. In fiction, you exist as fodder for a hero to mow down, to show off what they can do. You're nowhere near on my level. And, finally - let me tell you that I let you hit me earlier."

Feine slowly, and confidently stepped towards the spirit, his scarf moving slightly as he moved. His hands were curled into fists, ready to strike at his opponent. Having his spear on him would be a major boon - he and the spear were two sides of one coin. Feine's wind magic was far more powerful if he had his spear nearby. For a second, he wondered - could he teleport it? Or was that merely a dream? Perhaps he could teleport it to his hands, but someone like Feine couldn't remember their thousands of talents. Even the best have limits, he thought.

"What is interesting about a story without conflict, drama? If everyone is excreting rainbows and all that rubbish, that's not very interesting, is it?" Feine explained... as he took a sudden step towards his enemy, a spirit. "I will finish you in one strike. It'll be as easy as taking pen to paper - no, easier."Feine stomped onto the ground, in order to bring himself closer to his opponent... and then, in an upwards sweeping motion, Feine grabbed hold of the spirit's claw. Feine chuckled - this made it easy, as Feine wasn't simply grabbing his opponent. No - the upwards motion he made with his hand had a purpose... a purpose that worked with Feine's wind manipulation.

A very temporary, but decently powerful gust of wind blew from beneath his opponent, which would propel them upwards... but Feine was grabbing onto his opponent, for an all too typical reason of the young writer - to boast.

"Oh, please. I'm the tiniest bit surprised that worked." Feine whispered to his opponent, the spirit. "As soon as I let go, you'll be knocked a slight distance into the air. Gravity will do the work, so enjoy that."Feine casually let go of his opponent and turned away with a snicker... though perhaps he was overestimating his abilities? The spirit landed on the ground, with wounded legs... however, Feine assumed that it was dead. How could a spirit resist Feine's grand power?

Feine analyzed the other students in the room. He thought he was done with his spirit... so it was time to move on to a new one.

The young writer noticed his new friend, the blonde haired Lalisa fighting spirits. Interestingly enough, she was using plant magic... and as it turned out, she'd turned a part of the floor into a field of flowers that Feine somehow didn't notice, in his battle frenzy. Lalisa was saying something, though. Something interesting.

She seemed to be chanting lines from Romeo and Juliet.

'... Those lines - in a fight? Is this an attempt to impress me?' Feine wondered to himself. 'Of course, that's natural. In the sea, the fish Remora latch onto certain larger fish of higher status. In the great big sea of life, I am one such larger fish. In this case, people try to impress me to make me do things for them, like their homework. And then I say no.'

While his new friend was fighting off spirits, Feine thought it'd be best not to interrupt. One didn't achieve excellence through being assisted through challenges - no, they achieved it by overcoming those challenges themselves.

However, eventually... one of the spirits rooted in place from Lalisa's magic broke free, and sent her tumbling to the ground. She still seemed to be quoting Romeo and Juliet, too, though Feine didn't quite hear enough of it to know what it was.

'Really? I can make exceptions regarding people who provide me inspiration. It's my way of giving back to them - if they give me inspiration, I may just help them out.' Thought Feine, as he looked upon the situation.

Feine dashed over to the spirit, which had charged towards Lalisa - and forcefully kicked it, without as much finesse as he hoped to use. But the attack seemed to get the job done, for the spirit was knocked to the ground.

Placing a foot onto the spirit's body, Feine spoke.

"Not many have the pleasure of being rescued by someone of such a level as I, Feine Rhiter," Feine said, calmly. "However, it is important to take fights seriously. If you were to die here, that would prove rather anti-climactic in the story of this Academy. These foes are fodder-"

As if to prove Feine wrong, he heard something moving towards him - it was the clawed, humanoid Spirit from earlier, the same one he'd fought previously. Feine went to finish it off, but he found that he was still standing atop the spirit that went to attack Lalisa.

With a sigh, Feine stood in place and waited for his previous, wounded opponent to come closer, so Feine could hit it with wind magic. In the meantime - Feine noticed some other students from before moving about. In particular, he noticed the wild man from earlier having a fierce punch-off with a spirit, seemingly holding his own. Immediately, Feine's mind moved back to... what else, but writing?

'That man... intriguing. He seems to be a talented fighter. I'll jot that down after this. Such a character trait could make for interesting scenarios, though many of these students seem interesting, now that I think about it.'
@OliveYou

Before Feine knew it - the blonde lady he now knew as Lalisa took his hand and shook it, as if teaching him how to shake hands.

'Hmm? T-this isn't what I meant... I know about handshakes and things like that...' Feine found it rather interesting that Lalisa simply grabbed his hand and shook it, though. It took guts to simply shake the hand of someone of such high caliber - like Feine thought of himself. 'I'll allow this handshake - just this once. It must be an honour for them, anyways... and in the end, I'm winning out. This provides me with possible new material for my works.'

Feine bit his tongue as Lalisa squeezed his hand. Now that wasn't something Feine remembered of handshakes, though he didn't particularly care about the techniques of hand shaking and all that. It was likely normal, though.

In time, Lalisa said 'Let's be friends'... to which Feine merely nodded, but didn't say a word. Famous creators often had followers who supported them, so this was no doubt an important step to becoming the next great writer of today's generation.

But then, something particularly interesting happened.

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

"W-what is that infernal sound?!" Feine spoke to himself, but he quickly got an idea of what it possibly meant. "... I see. If this is what I think it is."

Feine's suspicions were very quickly confirmed. All sorts of ominous creatures started to appear through the area, as students rushed to combat them, as if they were warriors from a story. Now that Feine realized what was going on... a grin broke out onto his face, perhaps uncharacteristically. Other students may have yelled, shivered, or even screamed about the spirits. Not Feine, however. Feine was glad - and excited.

"Now this... this is what I've been waiting for... spirits." Feine muttered quietly. "Now-"

Feine was taken off guard by a sudden attack from behind. What he could only assume was a claw dug into the side of his chest, causing noticeable pain. Swiftly, Feine clutched his light wound with a chuckle.

"As a writer, it's best to experience all sorts of things... including pain." Feine explained to his assailant. "This does hurt to a degree, surprisingly enough, though I'm happy you did hurt me. Of course, you lucked out. As soon as you even touched me..."

Feine turned around to his attacker, almost casually - as if he were in no danger. What was there to fear for Feine Rhiter? He'd written all sorts of works. Dying here would just be anticlimactic.

Laying eyes on the spirit that had attacked him, Feine investigated the creature's appearance. It seemed to be a grim mockery of a human being, like Feine's fellow students. Just like them, it too was clearly inferior to Feine Rhiter, at least in his eyes. But what set this beast apart was a large, curved claw on its right arm.

"'As soon as you even touched me, you'd already lost. That's a quote from one of my stories, if subpar trash like you can even fathom the meaning in those words.'" Feine spoke calmly and clearly, eyes on the spirit that had attacked him. "Allow me to end your story. Of course, I expect you to try your best to keep this interesting. After all, I am looking for things to write on. Make this as dramatic as you can muster, though chances are this will be... lackluster." Chances were that the spirit couldn't hear Feine, but on the off chance it could... Feine still thought he'd tell it what was what.

Feine was excited... his first fight awaited him. Though he didn't have his spear on him at the moment, it would still be a cinch to beat his enemy. Feine was the most powerful wind user to grace the Academy, or even the most powerful person in the Academy in general. Or, so he thought...

Nonetheless, his enemy waited ahead of him. Feine stepped closer and closer to his opponent, ready to unleash wind magic on his foe...
Anyone else getting really into writing their characters? I like writing Feine. He's pretty weird and has a single-track mind to writing. I'm excited to see how he develops, and where he goes in general. I'm also excited to write inspiration as much as I can, in bold and italics.

So, what about the rest of you guys? How are you liking your characters so far?
@OliveYou

The blonde haired lady had introduced herself as 'Lalisa Greenwood'. Perfect! Now Feine knew the names of two of the three people he'd taken an interest in, aside from the man he dubbed wild. Perhaps he would have to try to overhear it, or perhaps - give him a name he had created on his own?

Lalisa spoke of wanting to make friends, due to the fact that the students at the Academy will be around for a while. Feine found this quite interesting. Different people react to different scenarios, well, differently. Some people may isolate themselves, others may try to make friends. However, in this scenario - a possible right answer would vary on the person. Of course, for Feine, he knew that his right answer was to surround himself with none other than people near his level. Limiting himself to people on his level was far too restrictive, after all.

But Feine's mind was driven to a stop as Lalisa stuck out her hand. This surprised Feine, who subtly raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Not many people did such a thing back where he lived. It was quite formal, but... Feine wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do.

'Am I supposed to stick my hand out, too? If I do this, but that's not the case - then I would definitely look like a fool. On the other hand, quite literally - making hand contact with someone is not something I plan on doing, not unless they're completely on my level. This lady is on a higher level than your average Joe Schmoe, but even still... however, in either case, that would come off as quite rude. This Lalisa has an interest in literature, and seems to be quite the possible source of inspiration. So, as for my next move - I'll play the guise of somebody else. A clueless boy, much unlike me. While possibly degrading, this is in the interest of writing.' Feine thought to himself quickly, considering his possible courses of action in this scenario.

"Uh... what do I do here?" Feine uttered, a tone of cluelessness in his words. "I'm not entirely sure, to tell the truth... forgive me. But anyways, being friends sounds pretty good. Literature brings people together, it looks like."

Along with that, Feine also felt he should add something else - he'd been asked why he hadn't eaten the cookie yet. This was easy.

"As for why I haven't eaten the cookie yet - eating is not particularly something I like to do in public. Along with that..." Feine began to speak. "As a human, I strive to be the greatest I can be in all possible fields - something I feel is within my grasp. One such thing I've done to pursue that goal is minimize how often I eat. There is little meaning to eating food, other than survival - of course. However, some food can provide inspiration. That is the food that truly draws me to it." Feine explained rather quickly yet clearly, bringing his eating habits into light. Any of the cluelessness in his voice from what he'd previously said had been abolished, like ice in a boiling hot furnace.

"Hmm. I used quite a few words there." Feine muttered, audibly enough to be heard. "However... I have no doubts that not only will this cookie taste good, but it will also bring forth inspiration."
@OliveYou

The lady had handed Feine the chocolate chip cookie - and he accepted gladly.

"You made these to give out to other students? Such an interesting character." Feine uttered, somewhat impressed - though he knew he'd never do this himself. What it showed, however, was that the lady was quite kind. "From a writing standpoint, there could be all manner of reasons why somebody would give out cookies, free of charge. It's certainly very interesting."

But aside from the cookie, the blonde lady had given Feine a few juicy tidbits of info on her friend, the woman Feine assumed was a tomboy from earlier. Apparently, that woman's name was 'Ashley', and that they might not like boys. This was interesting to Feine. Perhaps males in general were her 'Berserk Button', as a certain site Feine enjoyed would put it. Nonetheless, it was a very interesting trait for somebody to have, and certainly one that could lead to interesting scenarios. It seemed that the wild man may have provoked her by pushing this 'Berserk Button', which led to the cookie being thrown.

'In that case, it seems that I am lucky my cookie still remains in one piece. Though... wouldn't that be an interesting scenario? That woman simply slapping my cookie out of my hands, causing it to shatter and scatter, like dust in the wind.' Feine thought to himself. 'Though, I should devote the characteristics of this 'Ashley' and this unnamed blonde lady to mind. I would do so for the wild man, but I know not much about him. Though... what interesting characters we have, in the play called 'Life'!

Feine looked down at the cookie he'd been handed.

"Thank you for this chocolate chip cookie, too. Perhaps it'll provide the inspiration I seek for my next piece?" Feine thanked with a calm tone. "Anything in life can provide inspiration. The good, the bad, even things that may seem unlikely, such as this cookie here. That is the beauty inherent in writing, of course."

'While rather delicious looking, I cannot afford to eat the cookie in public. After all, it is quite embarrassing to eat in public, is it not?' Feine pondered over the cookie.

@OliveYou

The blonde lady had spoken up, netting Feine's attention quickly. To this point, he'd only really heard the man from the group of three speak. So what was this lady like, Feine wondered...

The very first words out of her mouth - 'I've never heard of your books'. As soon as Feine registered this, he placed his dominant left hand into his pocket, and clutched onto it, as discreetly as he could muster - a tic Feine had developed when someone had offended him. The purpose of this was to essentially hold his tongue and think upon what he would say next.

It was almost insulting to the prideful writer from the Rhiter family. All those hours, days, even months devoted to writing stories - all that effort he'd expended on creating the perfect works? He'd put in what he considered a gargantuan effort, having done his best to emulate the styles of famous writers and combine their strongest parts. It was simple, really... so why was Feine's effort going unnoticed? What could've been so hard about adopting each writer's strengths, with none of their negatives, especially for a self-proclaimed prodigy like Feine?

It wasn't just this woman that made Feine seethe, regarding his works and their lack of notability. It was everybody. Nobody seemed to know or even care... and sometimes, that extended to the world of literature as a whole. Many a person didn't seem to give a hoot about any of it!

The woman continued what she was saying, and Feine chose to listen. What she said next shocked Feine. She stated that she loved Shakespeare's works, and liked A Midsummer Night's Dream the most... and then she asked for Feine's favourite work from William Shakespeare.

This broke Feine's attempt to feign a cool, mystical, powerful composure as he suddenly gasped, only to hastily cover his mouth as quickly as he could muster. What the lady said to Feine had surprised him to an incredible degree. She knew Shakespeare, and even had a favourite work of his! She seemed to respect the man, too... not only that, but she even asked for Feine's favourite work from Shakespeare. Feine couldn't help but respect the blonde haired lady, all stemming from her liking Shakespeare.

'She knows one of Shakespeare's works! I didn't expect this!' Feine thought to himself, still shocked. 'I'd planned what I'd say if they didn't know much about Shakespeare! I didn't think one of them would have an interest in the literature arts!'

Shortly thereafter, the lady offered Feine a cookie, which netted her even more respect from the writer. Feine certainly had an interest in the cookies, in two senses. The first of which he was lead to by his writing-centric mind. If he were to write a piece on the interactions of this group of three he'd been analyzing, perhaps knowing the cookie's flavour could help him? The second reason was far more mundane. Feine thought they looked like good cookies...

"My favourite of Shakespeare's works, personally... when I was studying his style, I always ended up coming back to Macbeth. I studied the popular ones mainly, because Shakespeare's a famous writer - and those are his most famous works. I want to draw people to my works, and create sprawling, creative stories people can enjoy." Feine began to explain somewhat excitedly, clearly enthused that he'd come across a fellow fan of literature. "Though, I like all of Shakespeare's works, really. There's something beautiful in each of them... they're full of meaning. Am I right?"

Feine's feigned attempt to make a stoic and superior composure had completely and utterly fallen away. He was simply astounded that he'd come across someone else with an interest in the vast and expansive world of literature. She hadn't heard of Feine, and while that definitely still did annoy him... it was forgiven very quickly in Feine's mind. The offering of the cookie also amplified his opinion of the lady. All this made it a little hard for Feine to utilize his usual, smug attitude, and instead - he couldn't help but gush about his love of Literature. It had been a while since he had.

With Feine's next words, however, he calmed his excited tone and talked in his usual, calmer tone.

"I'd definitely like to try one of these cookies. They seem, how do I put it... both intriguing and scrumptious? They seemed to cause quite a commotion between your two friends. Perhaps your cookies are so excellent that they caused this little squabble between your friends?"

Feine's words were carefully picked. Deep down, he knew that chances were, the blonde lady's two friends were not fighting over a single cookie. That would be ridiculous, after all. Feine's reason for stating that assumption was that it would likely be confirmed as incorrect, thus leading to an explanation of why the two are fighting in the first place. This would lead to a net gain all around for Feine. By knowing what the two were arguing about, that could lead to further ideas for his next work.
@Insert Alias

Feine had faced himself away from the group he'd been analyzing. He'd begun to approach them, only to get cold feet. It was not out of shyness - Feine wasn't afraid of the trio, not in the slightest. Besides, what was there to fear about them? The young writer was unsure.

What caused Feine to reconsider his course of action was his pursuit for none other than inspiration. The group of three had come off to Feine as very interesting... Feine believed it could very well form a passable story for his next work. Feine had approached the trio intending to speak to them. What caused him to reconsider was the fact his intrusion could very well lead to a different scenario. Sometimes in writing, it was best to let what inspires you flow free and act on its own.

And unfortunately, Feine had made a mistake. Heading closer to the group proved to be quite an error, as he heard exactly what he dreaded. A voice, quite clearly a man's, spoke out and questioned Feine, asking if there was anything he could help with. Disaster had befallen the young writer! There was no doubt that this was the wild seeming man of the group of three. He seemed to serve as a catalyst to the group of three, in a sense... he'd changed an ordinary conversation between two ladies into something far more interesting. Cookies were thrown and shouts were, well, shouted. And not only that, but Feine had been noticed soon after the group's situation became even more enticing a piece, too - The man of the group seemed to be having an argument with the woman Feine presumed a tomboy... it was interesting, but... now the man seemed to be talking to Feine himself.

'What a blunder... I may as well make the most of this...'

For a brief moment, Feine didn't react to the man's word, still turned around.

Seconds later, however, Feine slowly turned around, his scarf billowing in a breeze which had suddenly appeared. In truth, this was Feine discreetly using weak wind manipulation for dramatic effect, as if he was a fictional character from some show. It was always an enjoyable way of introducing himself, much better than a simple ordinary introduction. Feine also believed it conveyed an aura of superiority, but that was up for interpretation...

Feine glanced at the man who addressed him. It was indeed the man from the group of three he'd been analyzing, but that was no surprise. Very rarely did Feine find his intuition wrong, hence why he considered himself a prodigy, a savant.

"My name is Feine Rhiter, though I'm sure you already know that." Feine introduced himself grandly, his scarf still billowing in the breeze. Briefly, Feine considered bowing to show respect, but ceased that thought quickly. "As a well esteemed figure in the modern day writing world, I seek to find inspiration from real life events. You and your friends struck me as interesting."

Calling himself a 'well esteemed figure' in the writing world was a grand overstatement, to say the least. Feine pointed to the three people he'd been analyzing. The blonde lady, the woman Feine considered a tomboy, and the 'wild man', who was the person talking to Feine. Along with that, Feine stopped sneakily using his wind magic to blow his scarf around, as to not drain his energy.

"I never thought a cookie would... pique my creative juices, but here we are. Isn't it interesting, how even the most minor things can bring forth inspiration?" Feine inquired, with both a neutral expression and tone. "I'm sure William Shakespeare underwent such hunts for inspiration, too... I guess I'm quite like him. Ah, forgive me... do you know who that is?"
@OliveYou

Thank you! I've wanted to write a character like him for such a long time. And boy am I loving writing him - turns out writing a snob is really fun. And I'm really enjoying writing his search for inspiration. It's a little weird writing a writer, and I love it.
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