This is Suzanne's profile. I'm posting this just so you guys can get an idea of what she was like, so that when you mention her or something in a post, you'll have an idea of what to say. This profile will only be short because, well, she's dead and stuff, so minor detials aren't important. Plus it's more open for you to add some stuff to her character and her history.
Name: Suzanne Amelie
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Spoiler! :
Personality: Suzanne was a very bubbly girl, and certainly outgoing. At times, she could be a little to outgoing. She didn't worry about anything or thought about what she was about to do, so that clearly got her into trouble/murdered... Due to Suzanne's large personality, she was also very annoying at times. She often made people snap, resulting in her losing friends and getting into fights quite often. Suzanne always wanted to be the best at everything, and got extremely annoyed if someone could do something better than her. Deep down, she was a nice girl, but she just had a very big ego.
History: Suzanne came from a middle class family: not too poor, but not rich either. She had an older brother, Connor, and a younger sister, Jade. She had a pretty normal life really, and a promising future in dance. Her sister had always been jealous of Suzanne, and she often annoyed her brother because of her lack of care. Throughout her life, she lost many friends, gained new ones, lost some more, lost a few boyfriends e.t.c. Basically, there are lots of people who were out to get her.
I am sooooo sorry for my late posting. After being out of town, I forgot about everything I should have remembered. It's a quicky profile here, but it should be a good start for the beginning of the storybook, ja?
Name: Ryan Bailey
Age: (15-21) 18
Gender: Male
Appearance: (Picture, if possible)
Spoiler! :
Personality: He's a lighthearted sports fanatic. He's on the guy's basketball team and is also a smart guy, especially in math and science. He's easy to talk to and to get along with. Just don't pull the math geek jokes on him. He hates those 'cause his passion is with basketball, not math.
Connection to Suzanne: (For example, an ex boyfriend, a neighbour, a childhood friend e.t.c.) Her math tutor for two years.
Motive to murder: After knowing her for two years, one can't help but start liking the girl. And yet she's never known him more than a math tutor. In fact, she's taken out her math anger on him multiplie times. Basically mistreatment and ignorance on her part, jealousy on his.
History: (Optional) He's on the basketball team, but the more important part of his history is the math tutoring. He's always been exceptional at math and pretty well in science, but Suzanne never was. A few times, she'd take her frustration out on him, though she doesn't seem to notice that her grade's improved since taking math tutoring. For some reason, she never switched her math tutor though. Ryan may or may not take this the wrong way since he's developed a liking/a crush on Suzanne over time, but Suzanne never seemed to notice. She would only treat him as a geeky math tutor when Ryan takes much offense to those insults (he's clearly a sports fanatic [though he only says that]).
Up For Love: Yeah, though he's a bit heartbroken over losing his crush. Be nice!
Thank you for the epciness that are your profiles, guys.
I can officially say that the murderer now knows who they are. Dun, dun, duuuuuun. If you haven't been contacted about being the murderer, it means that you're one of the innocents. I'd also like to say that I didn't pick the murderer through writing skills or anything, so don't think that because I didn't pick you, it means your no good. I just picked randomly really. Remember though, the murderer could always be me. Who knows?
Anwyay! I will soon make two posts. The first will be based around Suzanne, where you'll see her being killed, and the second will be my first post as my character. I'll just get him to set things off, okay?
NOTE: These next two posts are to start off the SB. They're a little rushed, so they may not be the highest of quality, but they should be able to get things moving okay. I've included some basic information in these next two posts - how Suzanne was murdered, what time it is for your characters, what the weather's like e.t.c. You should have enough to be able to write something. If you have any questions regarding anything, just send me a PM.
Suzanne Amelie
Silence. There wasn't even a gust of wind, or a rustle of a bush. There was something in the air though, something that just didn't feel right. Despite the eerie silence, Suzanne pushed herself forward. She was wandering along the canal - a shortcut back to her house. Night was closing in around her, the crisp air wrapping around her body.
She lifted her bag higher up on her shoulder and shivered. She had to get home. Flicking her fair hair out of her face, she walked down a set of stairs. The concrete underneath Suzanne's feet was a bland grey and the water in the canal iself didn't have much of a colour either. Unless you could have classed dirty as a colour.
The area itself wasn't one Suzanne was all too familiar with. She usually avoided walking along the canal way because she knew for a fact that it wasn't the safest route. She'd heard many stories of people getting mugged and what not, most of which she believed were rumours. Although as she walked deeper into the canal area, those rumours began to turn into true events in her mind.
"Shit!"
Suzanne froze. She glanced around for a face to match the voice. Nothing. Stop being such a wimp, Suzanne thought as she continued walking. It's just your imagination. Trying to embed that thought into her mind, she crossed her arms in hope of warming herself up.
There was a sudden rustling sound. Suzanne froze again. This time, she knew it wasn't her imagination. She scanned the overgrown bushes behind her, but still, she could see nothing. Her heart was thundering in her chest as she desperately searched her surroundings. Just as she turned around, she felt something cold on her shoulder. A hand. She spun around, ready to scream when she closed her mouth. She sighed.
"Oh, it's you! You scared the living crap out of me." Suzanne smiled at the person standing in front of her. "What are you doing here?"
The other person did not answer. Well, they may have answered, but Suzanne didn't hear them. She didn't get a chance to. The next thing she knew, cold hands were grasped around her neck as a set of nails dug into her skin. She tried to scream, but all that came out were gagging noises.
Everything around Suzanne was rapidly darkening. Not only the evening sky, but the ground, the water of the canal, the wild bushes. Everything. She couldn't breathe anymore, let alone think. And that was it. The hands let go of the young girl's neck and she dropped to the ground with a thud. Suzanne lay on the hard ground, motionless.
Silence. There wasn't a gust of wind, or a rustle of a bush. There was something in the air though that night, something that just didn't feel right. As Suzanne remained on the ground beside the canal, the last thing to be heard was a splutter coming from her mouth - one last breath. Then there was nothing.
She never returned home that day, or any other day that followed. A mere five hours later though, she was found. She was found by a group of people, all of which she knew or had known. Not forgetting her murderer, of course. They were there too.
There were four cans on the floor, and neither one even had a drop of beer left in them. My dad grabbed an unopedned can from the pack, shoving the ones he'd finished out of the way. As he flicked the can open, I shuddered at the fizzing sound it created. If I had the guts to do so, I would have smacked that can out of his greasy hands. Too bad I couldn't even glare at the man, let alone tell him how much of a jerk he was.
"I'm going out," I muttered, standing up.
My dad simply grunted before lifting the can to his mouth. He soon began shoving the content of it down his throat. As I was about to leave the room, he glanced at me and mumbled something under his breath. The only word I could make out from it was prick.
I was soon out of my house. The second I heard the front foor close behind me, I breathed in heavily, the cold air stinging my throat. I jogged up my garden path, not bothering to close its gate as I entered my street. Shoving my hands into my jean pockets, I shut my eyes for a moment. I was going to meet up with some of the guys - well, guys and girls techincally. So long as I wasn't with my dad, I didn't give a crap who I was with.
The streets around me were dark and the ground beneath me was damp. There was a soft glow on the pavements thanks to the street lights around me. I continued walking, avoiding dumps of rubbish here and there. God, it's cold. I crossed my arms, hoping that it would warm me up. It didn't do much. I didn't even know why I bothered wearing my old jacket ouside; I swore I was kept warmer if I didn't wear it.
As I crossed the road, I took my mobile phone out of my pocket. The buttons on it were worn, not that it mattered because half of them were missing anyway. It was just past twelve and darkness had definitely taken over the sky by now. I never normaly went out this late, but I couldn't be arsed to stay inside. Besides, I hadn't seen my mates in over a week, so this was a pretty good chance to catch up and such. Therefore, why not?
My phone was back inside my pocket when I had reached the other side of the road. I kicked a stone, sending it flying ahead of me. I kicked another for the sake of it. It wasn't long until I was in a new neighbourhood, one that was a damn lot more attractive than my own. There wasn't any mould on the houses at all. Instead, these houses stood tall. They weren't all perfectly spotless, but most were tidy enough.
I stopped walking outside one of the cleaner houses and peered into the window. I was going to call for everyone as I passed their houses. So long as they weren't being boring sods and did want to hang out, I'd be happy. I made my way up the house's driveway, tapping the family's rather nice car as I did so. I didn't have a clue what make or whatever the car was, but it was better than my wreck of a thing.
Leaning on the front porch, I knocked on the white door and whistled quietly. Soon enough, a shadow appeared in the door's window. As the door itself was opened, I felt a grin form on my face.
"You coming out?" I asked.
Spoiler! :
This can be whoever. I just thought it would be an easy way to get things going.
Kara Lyman absolutely loathed the bubbly, pop song that had just started to play on her favorite radio station, KISS 94.9. KISS usually had the sense to play decent music, but they had obviously lost their way by playing this dreaded song. When Kara had first started up her band, she had pictured the day when KISS 94.9 would play one of their songs on the radio. It was Kara's dream. The ditzy lead singer's voice filled the speakers, and boomed across Kara's small bedroom, seemingly ricocheting off the eccentric lime green walls.
"I wanna be a pop star, wanna be famous," the girl sang. Kara pictured the girl as a beach-blonde with just a squeaky speaking voice as her singing voice. Kara preferred alternative music, even hard rock. Truth be told, her own music was her favorite -- not to sound particularly conceited, on her part. Her band had been ever better, too, when that bobble-head backstabber Suzanne had been a part of it.
Kara rolled her eyes. Let Suzanne prance around and do whatever it is little bobble-head backstabbers did for fun. Kara partially wished that she had not cancelled band practice tonight -- they had practice every Tuesday night, it was somewhat a tradition -- just so she could rip on Suzanne with the other bandmates. Minus the drummer, of course. Kara was considering kicking him out. He'd broken up with her on Sunday, and things were struggling between the two of them. Kara was being the exact opposite of civil.
That aside, Kara had already made other plans for tonight. She was going out with a few of her close friends -- aside from the bandmates, that is. The bandmates knew Kara better than anyone, and they knew most everything about the pale, blonde-haired girl. Only Suzanne knew Kara inside and out, including Kara's most well-kept secret. Well, she hoped it was still a secret. Every day Kara lived with the burden of Suzanne possibly spilling the beans about Kara's secret. She had threatened her.
Kara kicked the radio with her three-inch platform heels until it was silent. The lead singer drowned out and was replaced by static, and Kara grinned devilishly. Take that, Miss Ditzy, she thought triumphantly. How people could like all that mainstream pop, Kara didn't know. It was trash to her ears.
There was a knock at the door. Probably Charlie Black, he said he was going to stop by and round everyone up. Kara applied a final coat of bubblegum pink lipstick, and stumbled into the hallway, her leather jacket slung under her arm and her lime green purse over her left shoulder. It was time to have some fun.
She swung the door open, halfway breathless. "Hey, Charlie."
"You coming out?" He asked.
"Of course, idiot," she smirked.
Now the fun could start, she thought, and with another grin, she stepped out of the house and onto the street.
Spoiler! :
I haven't storybooked in awhile. Hopefully this is alright.
"Chase your dreams, and remember me, speak bravery, Because after all, those wings will take you up so high." -- Owl City, "To the Sky" ✯ ✯ ✯
I was pacing up and down the floor of my room, Katy Perry's Fireworks blasting into my ears. God I was bored. I needed to get out of this dull place before I went crazy.
As Perry burst into song and her vocals nearly deafened me, I took of the headphones and something caught my eye in the window. Two dark blobs were moving outside. Then they stepped towards the pool of light around the front door and I recognized them.
I ran out of my room, grabbing my denim jacket as I did. I flew down the stairs, nearly running into my father in the process.
"Just going out with some friends, Dad!" I shouted over my shoulder as I found my trainers in the closet. There was a knock on the door, followed by a low whistle.
"But--," my father began.
"No time, Dad!" I said, pulling the shoes on. "Gotta go!"
I flung open the door to Charlie and Kara's faces.
"You coming out? We're getting together with the guys," Charlie said to me.
"There's no way I'm staying in here, Charlie. I'm bored out of my mind--" I stopped taking when I saw him looking at me with an amused look on his face.
"What?"
"Nice hairdo," he said, failing at stifling a laugh as he noticed my crazy hair. I took a band from my pocket and tied it back in a ponytail, then shut the door after pushing Charlie in the shoulder.
"Shut-up," I told him, "it's not like your hair's any tidier."
"I'm a man, Rayne," he said to me. "We don't do tidy."
"You should," Kara said with a grin. "Girls might actually go for you then."
The both of us laughed at him, and we all three walked down the garden path onto the pavement; the night air was chilly. No-one else seemed to be out.
"So we'rre gonna pick up the others?" I asked Charlie. "Have a night out?"
"We'll pick them up and then decide. The night's still young," he said with another grin. I nodded, and we walked. The others' houses weren't far from here, a quarter of a mile to the closest. My legs needed a good stretching.
"So how's your old man?" I asked Charlie, trying to make conversation.
"He's fine," he said. "Absolutely fine." Before I could ask anything else, he turned to me.
"What about your parents?" he said.
"The same old," I said. "Mum's worrying about me going off to Uni; Dad's been telling me about life in it. I swear; if he tells me one more story about naked poker I'm not going at all."
They both laughed. "Those are parents for yours," Kara said, "putting you off everything. Do you know if you're going yet? To Oxford, I mean."
I sighed. "Haven't got the acceptance letter. Not yet. Soon though, soon." I stopped talking when I saw someone coming in our direction from the distance. Didn't think anyone would be out this late. Was it one of the guys?
"A superman ... is, on account of certain superior qualities inherent in him, exempted from the ordinary laws which govern men. He is not liable for anything he may do." Nathan Leopold
The screams of my mother and father arguing cause my head to throb. I couldn't take it anymore! God, this was getting so freaking annoying!
In a fluster, I pulled on my pink winter hat, that for some reason I keep wearing, threw my window open, and hopped out. They wouldn't notice anyway - they're to busy yelling their accusations at each other. Why can't a girl just have a normal life?
Maybe I should just tell her mom like Suzanne suggested - No! I can't tell her! That would absolutely kill her. No one can ever know.
I can't believe I ever told Suzanne that. She's such a backstabber. I hate her.
I slowly headed for the directions my friends should be coming from, seeing that they'd be coming for me.
I saw them in the distance, but for some reason they just stopped walking.
"Hey guys!" I yelled, running towards them, forgetting about stupid Susan. She's not my problem anyway - it's not like we're friends anymore.
Once I reached them I gave each of them a hug and we began picking up walking again.
"We can stand here all day, you know," Ryan's brother mocked. Rickie was on defense, watching his older brother dribble the basketball.
"I'm just waiting for the right moment," Ryan said with a wide grin. He looked one way and then the other. It was a weekend day, which meant he didn't have any school to worry about. That left the entire day to himself, and what better way to spend it than kicking his brother's rear at some one-on-one basketball?
"Shoot now before I throw you a calculus question," Rickie called. He swiped at the basketball in an attempt to steal it, but Ryan easily moved the ball out of his way. Ryan ran around his brother to shoot, but Rickie's defense was remarkable. They were back where they started.
"Why can you dribble a basketball but not a volleyball?" Rickie asked.
Any normal person would just make an automatic timeout, wondering what the heck Rickie was asking. But Ryan wasn't normal, apparently. While dribbling, he started answering. "This isn't a calculus question, you know. But the basketball is made -- wait, no!"
Laughing, Rickie stole the basketball and shot a score through the hoop in quick succession. Ryan groaned but laughed with him. "You gotta quit tricking me."
"You gotta get your defense up even in offense!" Ryan's little brother said. He was more the athlete than Ryan. "Just forget school and focus on scoring." He grabbed the basketball and threw it to Ryan. "Let's do that again but don't just stand there for twenty minutes, okay?"
"It was more like five," Ryan said defensively and started dribbling.
Vanessa steadied her hand, her lips pressed tight as she applied the glossy clear nail polish. Suddenly, the door opened and her little brother, Van, came screaming in with his spiderman costume on.
Shaken, her steady brush cruised over her nail and painted a long streak down her hand. "God, Van!" She hissed at her six year old monkey. "You ruined my nails!" Her eyes narrowed as she studied his costume. "Why are you dressed up as Spiderman? It's not Halloween, you know."
He put a finger in his mouth, biting it. "Mommy said I could."
Rolling her eyes, she pointed at the door. "Get out of my room. Didn't I tell you to knock before coming in?"
"What did I do?" he moaned, throwing his hands up. "You always get mad at me!"
"Lately, you've been a pain," she replied. Realizing she had just yelled at her brother for something stupid, a wave of guilt hit her chest. Getting up, she followed Van back to his room where he sat on his bed after plugging in his Gamecube. Her shoulder pressed against his door. "Hey, twerp," she called.
He didn't listen.
"Fine, I'm sorry Van. I didn't mean to yell at you."
"I know." He shrugged. "Mom said you're busy with college homework and college homework is more harder than high school homework so Mom said to not bother you but..." He trailed off.
"But what?" She lifted a brow.
"You're just gone a lot." He frowned. That's when she realized that Van was sad, upset that she didn't spend as much time with her only sibling.
"Hey, how about I take you to the park next weekend? I'll be done with all my homework then so I'll have some time," she suggested with raised eyebrows.
A wide grin spread across his cheeks. "Really?"
"Yup." She rubbed her hand over his bushy brown hair and walked away. Her phone buzzed insider her jeans. She lifted the end to her ear. "Hello?" ------------- I don't know what I'm doing. :/
Last edited by Shearwater on Thu Jan 06, 2011 12:58 am, edited 1 time in total.
There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are. -W. Somerset Maugham
“Hello?” she asked. Her voice seemed weird, distracted and busy. Maybe it was a bad idea that he had decided to call her.
Damn, he thought. Anyone but her. But Jesse, Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome-But-Who-Are-You-Kidding stood in front of his closet’s mirror-faced door, staring at himself, bare-chested and scrawny, holding two shirts by the hangers in one hand and his phone in the other. “Vanessa,” he affirmed, smiling as if he were standing right in front of h—oh God, I’m nearly nak—oh wait…
“Yes, Jesse?” He imagined that she was busy doing something predictable like painting her nails or talking to her brother; but Vanessa wasn’t predictable like that.
“You know that movie they’re screening a few blocks down from the park, that indie movie with Michael Cera where he plays a troubled teenager?”
“Yeah. It’s one of my favorites. Why?”
Jesse grinned. “Would you like to go see it tonight?”
There was a pause. A long pause in which the only sound Jesse heard was his own breathing. Shit, he thought, can she hear me breathing? He held his breath, waiting.
Silence.
Silence.
The sound of a boy saying Spiderman’s favorite lines.
“Sure,” she said, breathily and hesitant. Jesse, blue-faced and dying, he slid his thumb over the MUTE button on his phone and screamed the loudest “YES!” of his life. And then he settled down and leaned against the mirror wall real cool-like with his phone to his face.
“So I’ll be there in my Camero when I get there, girl.” Oh, his voice was so smooth and casual; yeah, he had done this dozens of times, and his tone narrated a mature-rated story for him, trailing from the Camero all the way back to his place and up to his bedr—
“Jesse, you live across the street.”
“…….”
“Walking is fine.”
Jesse sighed silently and eased more weight against the mirror, overestimating its strength. With a quick Slink! the door came off its tracks and sent half-naked-poor-soul Jesse to the floor with his iPhone and mirror and oh God is that blood…
“…I’ll be there soon.” And he hung up. Hissing like a garden snake, Jesse looked down at his arm, already coated with blood.
Ten minutes of crying over a sink with tweezers and hot water and soap and disinfectant and gauze and bandages and a panic attack later, Jesse was back to square one: picking out a shirt. But things were different now, he noted. Now he was half-naked, wounded-gazelle Jesse. Oh yeahhh.
But the poor boy sighed and went with the black shirt. It went with his black glasses and black pants and black shoes and black…soul? Jesse sighed and pulled on the shirt, watching out his window as Vanessa’s light clicked to the certainly—off—position.
Casanova picked up a shard of mirror and checked his teeth and eyes and glasses, all looking as purposefully disarranged as possible. Score, of course, team Jesse.
He didn’t want to seem too eager. It was the first time he’d had the balls to ask a girl out since…
“That tramp done broke my heart!” someone shouted on TV downstairs. Jesse giggled internally and took his keys off the rack, watching his mom and dad in the living room. Goodbye wasn’t necessary. He’d be back anytime, and they didn’t even notice if he was there or not.
Door closed. Twenty-nine steps to Vanessa’s front door. Seven deep, resolute breaths, and a chance to pop four tic tacs. Jesse sucked in air, nearly vacuuming a lightning bug into his throat, and steeled himself for the task ahead.
“Evenin’, Jesse.” Vanessa walked down off the porch and smiled so widely and genuinely at him, his heart nearly burst.
“Hi there, Vanessa.” His smile was so darkish-chic, but it worked on Jesse. It had to, or else he had nothing.
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