A Guide on Character Creation

As I seek for a place that will be me workspace, there are a few factors to consider. Just how a killer must choose the most advantageous environment for them to commit the deed, I find those lessons relatively useful in these circumstances as well.

First things first, my objective for today must be identified. What I seek to hopefully find is a person to be my text subject, in a literary sense, of course. Due to a lack of empathy, I must base my characters off real people, in that way, I can make them more realistic as I continue to observe and understand the subjects in question. As such, what I need is a position where I can sit and take note of everything happening around the establishment without making its customers, too uncomfortable.

As such, I continue walking down the aisle as I pass various tables and seats, some filled with people; and take notice of how my most favorite place, at the corner of the café with a view on the outside street, was taken. A pity.

Turning my head around towards the other direction, I hope to see the few tables which are on a more elevated platform, empty; and as I do, I realize I may be lucky after all. Though luck, is perhaps not the right word, seeing as how most people are simply not fond of standing out. However, personally, with my new identity, the amount of attention people pay to me matters not so long as I get a good position from which I can draw my underdeveloped inspiration from.

I walk up the couple of steps onto the platform, and walk up to some cushioned seats which had a table next to them; comfort is a concept necessary for every- an excuse is all I am making as I impulsively desire more comfortable seats considering how much time I will likely spend here. As I get next to the seats, I take off my cloak and hang it on the chair further away from me as I sit on the closer available chair, waiting to be served, my mind drifting as I gaze upon the all sorts of customers in front of me.

'The awakened are all humans, as only humans can awaken. Other races can almost all freely learn how to manipulate other energies and onwards, if they have the talent. In a way, the awakened, which are humans, are essentially "jacks-of-all-trades", though in our world, the awakened need proper guidance and training to achieve full potential, allowing them to become even better than our counterparts.'

'What makes this peaceful town of Rezia, a good place to live? Well, I suppose that would be due to the decreased number of awakened, and hunters as a whole. While not all those who awaken have skills useful for monster extermination, it seems to be fairly obvious that majority cannot control their pride of being better than normal people. As for hunters- well, they are a violent bunch to say the least, even the most honorable ones believe in violence as a matter of solving disputes. With those factors in consideration, Rezia is a peaceful place because there is a larger concentration of simple folk who wish to leave their lives peacefully and do whatever they love doing without getting involved in all the conflict-'

I suddenly feel a smack across the back of my head as I prepare to cast a counter-attack spell... alas, only to realize that I am not in the dirty world I used to live in, and the person who did smacked me, was none other than Barbara, someone I believe people usually call "a friend".

"You just couldn't stop yourself from bullying my new girl, huh?" - she said with a big smile on her face, paying no heed that she just technically violently attacked me.

I turn my head to look at her, and her body finally comes into view. She was rather short, at least for a human of her age, and had blonde hair which was, for as long as I remember, always styled into short, twin ponytails since her hair wasn't too long, either. She had a minute amount of freckles on her cheeks, and her eyes were blue, just like mine; though they were happy, unlike mine.

Barbara is what people call "a social butterfly". At first, I lacked understanding in the social arts to comprehend how a person could be something like that, but soon understood the novelty of the metaphor. She was an upbeat person who radiated warmth and happiness and people were gravitated into talking with her.

Even I was.

"Oh-" - I say as softly smile at the sight of her bringing everything I order, and extra - "Hello there, Barbara. It's good to see you too. As for the new girl, let's say I had to make it clear that I am a regular while giving her a bit of training as well, hm?

As she talked with a rather chirpy tone, she began putting the platter filled: a cup of coffee, a glass and bottle of whiskey, as well as a few other things which I took interest in.

"Oh, yas! You sure did, the poor girl came to me and almost started crying because she thought she failed her job somehow. Tsk tsk Louis, bullying my girls whenever you have the chance."

My mouth forms a wry smile as I continue the conversation: "Well, I am thankful that you were also kind enough to bring me some pen and paper, considering I forgot my own."

"Oh that? It's only natural, you keep saying you're a writer who wants to write but keep forgetting something to keep notes after telling me you're hear to observe." - pushing the platter under her armpit, leaning towards me as she then teased - "Some writer you are."

It was important to fake emotion and show that I fell for the teasing and respond in kind, as such I got my right hand to pat her since her leaning towards me allowed it, as I then continued more cheerfully after a brief chuckle.

"Hehehe, I see you you still have that attitude in you. Besides, I am being wrongfully accused of bullying, it's not my fault the people you hire are beautiful in their own ways; not to mention how well you look yourself."

In my experiences of approaching female targets, they appeared to always have fallen for what's referred to as "smooth-talk". Though there are naturally exceptions; some require being more genuine, some will outright ignore me, call me some pervert and confuse me, and so-forth. Thankfully with Barbara here, it would seem they all appreciate the comments I make about the little things they keep doing that make them look better.

Despite being a woman approaching her thirties, she had no issue with pouting like a child as my hand rested on the top of her head while growing accepting of it after my complimenting.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, just do your thing and call for one of my girls if you need anything."- as she began making a few steps away from me, she suddenly stopped, turning her head towards me and making her own version of a glare as she finished - "Oh and yes, do not antagonize my customers as you usually do."

As she walked off the platform and back to work, I couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at what had transpired. A person who has never taken a single life, glaring at me, a killer? The sight was so adorable that I naturally will oblige to her if only to have her keep glaring at me in the same manner.

Nevertheless, I push the satisfying social encounter to the back of my mind as I lay out the paper in front of me, grabbing a pen with my right hand as my left hand goes for coffee, bringing it to my lips, allowing me to enjoy the spark of warmth entering my body. Putting the cup back on the table, I take a quick look at the sight before me and soon let out a sigh as I realize I have my work cut out for me.

Creating characters with specific people as a foundation is not that easy as it sounds. The first issue is finding someone noteworthy. While I am not seeking to find some world leader disguised as a young man eating his meal, I do wish to find people who have any sort of irregularity in their behavior, or going back, having a pattern of behavior which is noteworthy.

Nevertheless, I cannot allow myself to be picky. Just as how overestimating my abilities and advantages in a mission can lead to my death, I cannot overestimate my weak foundation as a writer. Choosing a person who has an aspiration and strives towards it is just as worthy to be my character in a short-story as is someone who has a weird affection for swords. As I check the time, I realize that I cannot dawdle any longer.

Time, waits for no man.