In Which We Chat Like We Used To.

I miss the old kind of character chats -- NO NOT THE ASTERISK ONE-LINING ONES.
The ones where people actually cared about the plot, instead of just being focused on hooking up with the character that has the hottest picture. The romance chats are for that.

This is a chat for actually developing your characters. Their histories, their personalities, their little quirks and habits. This is a chat where your characters are realistic in how they react to things, and where everything they say doesn't sound like it came straight off of a script for a movie. Because in real life, it's okay to make mistakes, and it's okay to actually feel heartbroken awhile, before moving onto the next guy/girl.

The rules for this chat are a bit specific:
-No insta-love. Get to know people before having your charries fall for them.
-You must have friends. Unless your character is a loner, they must have a life outside of love. Or a life in general. Let them hang out with friends once in awhile, like normal human beings.
-No insta-rebounds. When someone hurts your character -- whether a lover or a bully -- show how someone would really feel after an experience like that. They wouldn't just stand right back up with a smile. The experience would most likely impact their thoughts and ways, for a long while.
-The usual rules. No one-liners, don't get too detailed when it comes to ... and no PPing, unless given permission.

There's no setting. Your character can be in high school, or work at a local store, or even be a thousand miles away from all the other characters. This is a REALISTIC chat, where anything can happen, and cliche chat plots are discouraged.

There is no format. Just ask to join, then throw whoever in. Yes, this'll mean you have to -gasp- describe them as they go, and give out info as you meet people. Like IRL, or in a book.

Can I join? *has a character in mind*

Avery: Yes, go ahead.

Can i join? -already asked via chatbox-

Momo: Yup.

Red stilettos. They were Charlie's trademark shoe. All the bands that auditioned for her had learned to dread them, or what they often did: Tap impatiently. When Charlie started tapping her toe, you could tell that she was bored of you, or had somewhere else better to be -- basically the same thing.

And right now, as she listened to yet /another/ band audition for a slot in her company, she was tapping her foot vigorously. After two more bars of what she would describe as 'nails on a chalkboard' Charlie leaned over the sound manager and flicked off the microphones, as well as the amps.

"Next," She said coldly, sitting down in a wheely chair and crossing her legs, as the band headed out downtroddedly. She turned to the guy in the soundbooth. "Why does all the new talent sound the same?"

The man almost seemed to flinch at the frustration in her voice. He shrugged and messed with a few things on the soundboard nervously. "I'm not sure, ma'm."

"Hmph." Charlie pouted her ruby red lips like a child, and crossed her arms to slouch in her chair. Sometimes that 27-year-old could be a real baby. Then again, she was a baby compared to some agents in this city.

Jackson walked into the audition room, Alice walking in behind him. She carried her keyboard under her arms and he carried his electric guitar case. The last group wasnt good, but they werent bad.

Alice was nervous, because even though she thought they were good enough, they had a...different sound. She looked at the lady as she set up her keyboard.

"We are next." She said plainly, pushing her light blonde waves out of her face. She plugged in her keyboard as Jackson plugged in his guitar. "So, she would just...like start?" She asked, looking over the lady.

Grease-stained jeans were all Claire spotted as she walked into the shop, and set down the two lunch bags she'd brought with her. She pulled her long, blonde hair up into a high ponytail, and then laid down on a skateboard. Using the edge of the car, she rolled underneath next to Raymond.

"Hey," She said with a smile-smirk, looking over at him. He gave her a nod, but couldn't talk through the wrench in his mouth. "I brought you lunch."

His eyes said thank you, and then he said it himself as he spit the wrench out to use it on a screw on the bottom of the car. However, after that, he didn't really say another word to his girlfriend.

Sometimes, Claire wondered where his priorities laid. She held back a sigh and rolled back out from under the car, over to the counter she'd set the lunch bags down on. The shop was small and dirty, but Claire bared it whenever she wanted to visit Ray. And she'd been here all last summer, mind you, so she was used to it. Dirt and filth and metal...maybe she wouldn't admit it, but Claire didn't /really/ mind the shop all that much.

Awhile later, Ray came out from under the car and grabbed one of the bags, shoving food into his mouth. Claire watched him, her blue eyes solemn. At least he'd said 'thank you' earlier....

Charlie's eyes narrowed at the girl, who was already giving her sass. She could send the two away then and there, if her heart had been completely made of ice.

...Oh wait, it was completely made of ice. The reason she didn't send them away was because she wanted to see what they could do. If they actually had talent, it'd be a waste to never see it. Charlie reached over and clicked on the power again, for the amps and microphones.

"Go ahead," Charlie said through a false smile of fakely-white teeth, holding back nasty names she wanted to call the girl who was giving her attitude. As you can see, Charlie had a quick temper. But she went to therapy for her issues.

Ophelia was walking down the street; just walking, not really paying attention or caring. Frankly, she was just blowing off time. She didn't want to be home. She didn't want to deal with dad and his lover. His lover being the bottle, that is. No, she was just fine blowing off time walking down random streets. If she was lucky, she'd get lost. But that wasn't likely. She knew this town better than the back of her pale, bandaged hand.
She sighed, tucking back a auburn strand of hair. It always got in her face. It drove her nuts.
She quickly searched her wrist for an elastic and scowled, coming up empty. She'd have to get it cut soon.

Jane sat on the large branches of the weeping willow tree, her eyes watching the small baby Bluebird sitting in the nest, waiting for it's siblings to hatch. She sketched out the birds body, watching as it slowly woke up, seeing the world around it for the first time. Another egg began to crack, and the bird peeked it's head out. The mother bird came back with food for the babies and sang to them. A beautiful bird song...something that woke up your insides, gave you energy to start the day. As she sketched a drawing of the birds, she hummed along to the bird's song in the best way she could. The mother turned it's head around to watch her a moment, and went back to her babies. Protecting her small children from Jane if she ever dared touch her babies. Jane almost wished she had a caring mother, someone to sing to her when she was younger, and care for her, protect her from danger. But she didn't. She reached up and pulled a lock of her black hair from her face, placing it behind her ear and continued to watch the bird family.

Stephen sat on a park bench, studying a passage in one of his college books. As he flipped the page, he glanced up and caught sight of a girl in a tree. He squinted, pushing his glasses up on his nose. What was she doing? Drawing...but drawing what? From here, it looked like he was sketching a birds' nest. He wondered if she realized how that may be a bad idea, considering how birds got protective of their --

He sighed to himself and returned to reading the passsage, the wind rustling through his dark hair that went to just above his ears -- in need of a cutting, in his friend's words. She was always trying to dress him and style him, like some kind of Barbie doll. But Stephen didn't really mind, he was the passive type.

Jackson looked over to Alice and they nodded to each other. He tapped his foot as they started. Their sound was distinct and different from most modern bands. with only an electric guitar and Alices keyboard there wasn't much to work with. But they made do with what they had.

Alice played some drum rythms with her left hand as she played the melody with her right hand. She sang softly, but it was obvious that jackson's baritone voice was the sound of the band.

Their instruments had the bands logo and names along the sides. 'Sound of chaos' was printed in messy half cursive letters. The print was in purple with the instruments black. Alice had picked out the logo of a simple storm going around the lettering.

Jane continued to draw the birds, but...that one was having trouble grabbing the food it's mother gave it. She flew away, probably finding more food, and She reached over and picked up the worm, holding it up so that the baby bird could eat it. As she watched the bird grab it, and pulled her hand away, the mother came back. She flew over to Jane and began attacking her hand. A small scream escaped her mouth as she jumped off the tree, droppping her notebook and pencil and landing on her legs, but she lost her balance and fell on her bottum. The mother bird went back to her nest and seemed to glare down at Jane.

Charlie ran her tongue over her teeth when the song was over, contemplating. Her icy gaze trailed over their instruments, then the two people themselves. Trying to decide if they'd be marketable...if she thought their music was good enough, if their look was right. If they had the right attitudes, even.

She ran a hand through her bleached out hair, that was sort of crimp-permed. With a single finger she flicked on the microphone that allowed her to talk to them on the other side of the glass. "Leave your contact information at the desk. We'll get back to you in a couple months."

She waited to see their reactions. That'd be pivotal to whether they'd get the job or not. What reactions would seal the deal? That was Charlie's secret, not something I can tell.

Stephen's head shot up when he heard a scream that shook him from his reading. He realized it had come from the girl that had been sketching the birds, and wasn't sure how to feel about that. She should have known, silly girl. He shook his head and looked back down at his book. There was no reason for him to check up on her, what stranger ever cared for another?

(Kaden is human in this chat, not a clone)

Kaden was fuming as she left the base. Waking up and finding her mother had just up and left was very disconcerting. Especially since he dad happened to be somewhere halfway around the world doing some secret thing for the military. She headed to the small park that she visited a lot, hoping to be able to think. How could this be happening to her? She really needed to talk to her dad but she couldn't. Not until he got home. At least he didn't know about this yet. Distractions in his line of work were dangerous, even fatal.

Alice looked at Jackson and smiled. He put his guitar down and carefully handed the packets of paper to the lady before she ran at him and wrapped her arms around him.
"We have a chance! We can get out of Ted basement!" Alice was smiling widely, the happiest she had been in years. Jackson ruffled her hair and turned to the lady.
"Thanks for this chance. It means a lot to us."

((Can I join Spired?))

This seems like a chat of exceedingly high quality. I have three questions.

1. Do our characters have to be from the present day here-and-now, or are extremely hard sci-fi characters allowed? (Hard sci-fi, for those who don't know, is sci-fi very close to real science, often based on predictions made by scientists etc.)

2. Can characters be brought into the setting for a questionable and contrived reason before they act realistically?

3. I really like the look of this. Can I join?