@Manix: To be honest, and to voice a bit of dissent with @Trevize, I preferred "sightless lump of matter" because it shows that it was formerly an eye.
She is a beautiful siren, possessing olive skin and wispy white hair. Though most identifiable characteristics of her face are hidden behind a mask, the shadows around her amber eyes are still noticeable, her perpetually alarmed-looking gaze only drawing to it all the more attention. Besides this, the contours of her face are a shade or two paler than the rest of her thin frame, as if often covered from the light of the sun. She is five foot tall, at most.
This is a slightly modified version of my description. I know that including what one is wearing in the description itself is sort of frowned upon and not recommended, however I include the mask bit because is sort of important to Shirszae, and otherwise most people don't even realize she is wearing one, as most don't even read half of what you are actually wearing.
And you won't understand the cause of your grief...
What does the mask cover? It seems like you've told us it's there and described what we can't see anyway.
Also, it feels like it needs more non-face description. All you've told us is she's ~5' and thin, which isn't much to go on.
Well, I admit I do have a bit of a problem with descriptions. For some reason I can't think of anything else to describe. In-universe, my excuse is that since she wears so many layers of clothing, not that many characteristics of her body would be all that visible, but yeah.
Also, the mask doesn't hide anything. She is not scarred or something (though I have not really decided exactly how she looks), she just wears for what I like to term psychological reasons, which she sorts of admits to herself.
And you won't understand the cause of your grief...
I'm a newbie and never been good at getting my words to flow nicely haha. I've been asked whether english was my second language on a couple of occasions... This thread seems fun and interesting so I'll just leave this here
He is a horned satyr. While his horns are still quite small they do appear to be beginning to curl like those of a ram. Long, tangled, earthy brown hair is pulled back and tied with a leather thong, a few strands left carelessly free, falling messily over his face. Freckles crowd across his shoulders and nose and dot his sun browned skin. His eyes are a light hazel brown but a strong aquiline nose is the most prominent feature of his squarish face. Otherwise short facial hair ends in thin dreads at the sides of his chin and where his jaw curves back up.
He is a horned
satyr. While his horns are still quite small they do appear to be beginning to
curl like those of a ram. Long, tangled, earthy brown hair is pulled back and
tied with a leather thong, a few strands left carelessly free, falling messily
over his face. Freckles crowd across his shoulders and nose and dot his sun
browned skin. His eyes are a light hazel brown but a strong aquiline nose is
the most prominent feature of his squarish face. Otherwise short facial hair
ends in thin dreads at the sides of his chin and where his jaw curves back up.
'do' in the first sentence is
redundant.
Earthy-brown hair needs a
hyphen (second sentence.)
… maybe it's a regional
thing, but if I saw someone with a thong in their hair I'd be rather…
shocked. I'd have said 'a thin strip of leather' because that gets your
point across without any potential for unfortunate misunderstandings.
'sun-browned'
'Eyes are a light hazel',
hazel = brown so that's redundant.
Seems
fine, really. Dunno where the English-second-language comments are coming from.
@Shirszae Masks are tricky. How large is this mask? Covers half the face? All of it?
You look over at a mask of lunar radiance being worn by Shirszae and see: Partially eclipsing its wearer's face, a slender crescent follows the natural curve across the forehead to around the nose and above the lips. This honey-coloured mask of matted silk illuminates the adjacent areas of skin exposed. Two thick silver ribbons have been attached to both sides of the mask, and when fastened behind the head, their length provides a secure fit.
@Argys I suppose I could describe her lips or something like that? I think the description still holds, but perhaps I am wrong.
And you won't understand the cause of your grief...
Earthy-brown hair needs a
hyphen (second sentence.)
… maybe it's a regional
thing, but if I saw someone with a thong in their hair I'd be rather…
shocked. I'd have said 'a thin strip of leather' because that gets your
point across without any potential for unfortunate misunderstandings.
'sun-browned'
'Eyes are a light hazel',
hazel = brown so that's redundant.
Seems
fine, really. Dunno where the English-second-language comments are coming from.
Thanks. Yeah, in Australia thong isn't strongly linked to underwear I suppose haha. I figured since it was fantasy that it would bw dinw, but I think I may have seen thongs available for purchase so haha, like you said probably best to change it
Here is mine. I'd like advice on how to improve it.:
He is a frog-like grook, standing at around six feet tall and with vivid green skin. Brown eyes with a greenish tinge gaze out of his frog-like face at his surroundings. His pudgy well-fed exterior indicates a life lived in comfort and without struggle. As with most of his race, his long dexterous hands are webbed. A pleasant citrusy odor, reminiscent of limes, emanates from him.
There are so many rules to grammar that when you've managed not to violate one by writing your description two days before the full moon on a February when it's raining on the ancient burial grounds of the Aztecs, I consider it a victory.
He is a frog-like
grook, standing at around six feet tall and with vivid green skin. Brown eyes
with
a greenish tinge
gaze out of his frog-like face at his surroundings. His pudgy well-fed
exterior
indicates a life
lived in comfort and without struggle. As with most of his race, his long
dexterous
hands are webbed. A
pleasant citrusy odor, reminiscent of limes, emanates from him.
The
word 'and' in the first line is redundant.
You've used 'frog-like'
twice, once in the automatic starter thingie. Try 'amphibian'.
'odour'
Not
bad. Seems a little bland, to me, but I'm not sure how you'd go about fixing that.
Thanks! Yeah, bland was kind of the look I was going
for. There are so many really extreme and unique descriptions; I thought it
might be interesting to go in the other direction
Be careful with that. It's totally a legitimate approach, but don't conflate 'bland' with 'boring'.
I think the quote is in this thread somewhere, so I'll paraphrase: 'It takes great skill to make the mundane interesting, but very little to make the amazing dull.'
New (modified) description: He is a human and is of average stature. Smooth, dark skin covers lean bunches of muscle, the stark white sclera of his one visible eye contrasting sharply with his complexion and rust-coloured iris. His ink-black hair is tied into dozens of tastefully matted braids hanging past his shoulder, each lock woven through with countless bits of metal. His seemingly placid, careless grace belies an extreme economy of motion, effecting only the faintest tinkling chimes. The metallic notes resonate in soft counterpoint to the barely audible sound of conspiratorial whispering that seems to crawl from every corner and shadow whenever he is present.
First half is totally fine. Last two sentences make me a little leery - are there times when he's not in graceful motion? Like someone stripped levitation and dropped him from a tree? Also not sure about the whispers - are they a hallucination? Do you have a cadre of ninjas following you around to create them?
The whispers are a magicky thing. Tael's staff has had an on-wield involving it for a while and the custom entrance/exit involves it too.
To be clear, I just put it here because I'm happy with it and egotistical enough to want to show it off. I'm not concerned about any of it or really looking to modify it - the graceful thing is fine, I think. It's a statement about his general demeanour and movements. I don't think it's better to write "he's graceful except when he's falling out of trees or knocked over by tripblocks or paralysed by curare or..." for the same reason that I don't have a line about his hair that says "but when he's swimming, it's wet".
Here is Hermie, steampunk death-obsessed elderly Satyr that he is.
He is a horned satyr. Standing tall for a member of his race and holding himself in a relaxed posture, the subject before you is a man of considerable age. His unevenly chopped red and gray hair hangs a slip above his emerald eyes. Shining fervently from his dreary visage, his eyes light up his face that otherwise has been warped by Aeon's ever beckoning presence. A victim of the inevitable, the sands of Time have eroded his full cheeks and youthful nature, leaving a grizzled and aged look to his appearance. Up and down his face and under his chin, a thick beard is displayed with pride. While rough and wiry in texture, the whiskers of bright red, opalescent white, and onyx black are all well groomed and maintained to perfection. Atop his head, his onyx-black horns are also presented with pride and great dignity. As long and as thick as a mountain ram's, his dense ornaments curl above his age stained hair, making him seem even broader and taller to the casual glance. On closer inspection, the ridged curls possess large chunks missing from the time-battered surface, signs of the trials and tribulations he has encountered on the long and winding road he has called his life. Not helping in his unhealthy appearance is his sallow complexion. The cheeks of his face and the skin on his hands and neck are milk white, the only marks that mar the surface are the puckered wounds and deep scars from years of service to one cause or another. While this dreary appearance serves to make him corpse-like in nature, there is an ineffable energy that seems to erupt from his thin frame. Every spoken word and every move he makes sheds any illusion that he has a single toe yet in the grave. He is wearing a Logosian ring, a pair of steel-buckled black leather boots, a Soulstone pendant, a luxurious black top hat, a Veil of the Libertine, a wyrmskin pack, a Girdle of Aegis, a miniature flagon on a chain, 2 bronze heart cufflink with ruby-dusted flames, an etched ivory ring, a ring of endurance, a fur-lined backpack, a suit of scale mail, a shackle of Garash, a pocketbelt, a silver ring set with bloodstone, a bone ring with a magic rune, goggles of whitesight, a sharp black tuxedo jacket, pressed black pinstripe trousers, a crimson, silk dress shirt, and a shimmering vest of cerulean blue.
He is a horned satyr. Standing tall for
a member of his race and holding himself in a relaxed posture, the
subject before you is a man of considerable age. His unevenly
chopped red and gray hair hangs a slip above his emerald eyes.
Shining fervently from his dreary visage, his eyes light up his face
that otherwise has been warped by Aeon's ever beckoning presence. A
victim of the inevitable, the sands of Time have eroded his full
cheeks and youthful nature, leaving a grizzled and aged look to his
appearance. Up and down his face and under his chin, a thick beard is
displayed with pride. While rough and wiry in texture, the whiskers
of bright red, opalescent white, and onyx black are all well groomed
and maintained to perfection. Atop his head, his onyx-black horns are
also presented with pride and great dignity. As long and as thick as
a mountain ram's, his dense ornaments curl above his age stained
hair, making him seem even broader and taller to the casual glance.
On closer inspection, the ridged curls possess large chunks missing
from the time-battered surface, signs of the trials and tribulations
he has encountered on the long and winding road he has called his
life. Not helping in his unhealthy appearance is his sallow
complexion. The cheeks of his face and the skin on his hands and neck
are milk white, the only marks that mar the surface are the puckered
wounds and deep scars from years of service to one cause or another.
While this dreary appearance serves to make him corpse-like in
nature, there is an ineffable energy that seems to erupt from his
thin frame. Every spoken word and every move he makes sheds any
illusion that he has a single toe yet in the grave. He is wearing a
Logosian ring, a pair of steel-buckled black leather boots, a
Soulstone pendant, a luxurious black top hat, a Veil of the
Libertine, a wyrmskin pack, a Girdle of Aegis, a miniature flagon on
a chain, 2 bronze heart cufflink with ruby-dusted flames, an etched
ivory ring, a ring of endurance, a fur-lined backpack, a suit of
scale mail, a shackle of Garash, a pocketbelt, a silver ring set with
bloodstone, a bone ring with a magic rune, goggles of whitesight, a
sharp black tuxedo jacket, pressed black pinstripe trousers, a
crimson, silk dress shirt, and a shimmering vest of cerulean blue.
Gah, sorry about that guys....should never post after getting back from a bar...
He is a horned
satyr. Standing tall for a member of his race and holding himself in a relaxed
posture, the subject before you is a man of considerable age. His
unevenly chopped red and grey hair hangs a slip above his emerald eyes. Shining
fervently from his dreary visage, his eyes light up his face that otherwise has
been warped by Aeon's ever beckoning presence. A victim of the inevitable, the
sands of Time have eroded his full cheeks and youthful nature, leaving a
grizzled and aged look to his appearance. Up and down his face and under his
chin, a thick beard is displayed with pride. While rough and wiry in texture,
the whiskers of bright red, opalescent white, and onyx black are all well
groomed and maintained to perfection. Atop his head, his onyx-black horns are
also presented with pride and great dignity. As long and as thick as a mountain
ram's, his dense ornaments curl above his age stained hair, making him seem
even broader and taller to the casual glance. On closer inspection, the ridged
curls possess large chunks missing from the time-battered surface, signs of the
trials and tribulations he has encountered on the long and winding road he has
called his life. Not helping in his unhealthy appearance is his sallow
complexion. The cheeks of his face and the skin on his hands and neck are milk
white, the only marks that mar the surface are the puckered wounds and deep
scars from years of service to one cause or another. While this dreary
appearance serves to make him corpse-like in nature, there is an ineffable
energy that seems to erupt from his thin frame. Every spoken word and every
move he makes sheds any illusion that he has a single toe yet in the grave.
'Gray' should be 'grey'.
'Ever-beckoning' should have
that hyphen.
'… large chunks missing from their time-battered surface, signs
of the trials and tribulations he has encountered.'
'makes him almost corpse-like…'
The
first three are just grammar/spelling, and the last just seems to make a little
more sense. Otherwise, it's pretty damn good.
Comments
She is a beautiful siren, possessing olive skin and wispy white hair. Though most identifiable characteristics of her face are hidden behind a mask, the shadows around her amber eyes are still noticeable, her perpetually alarmed-looking gaze only drawing to it all the more attention. Besides this, the contours of her face are a shade or two paler than the rest of her thin frame, as if often covered from the light of the sun. She is five foot tall, at most.
This is a slightly modified version of my description. I know that including what one is wearing in the description itself is sort of frowned upon and not recommended, however I include the mask bit because is sort of important to Shirszae, and otherwise most people don't even realize she is wearing one, as most don't even read half of what you are actually wearing.
And you won't understand the cause of your grief...
...But you'll always follow the voices beneath.
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Well, I admit I do have a bit of a problem with descriptions. For some reason I can't think of anything else to describe. In-universe, my excuse is that since she wears so many layers of clothing, not that many characteristics of her body would be all that visible, but yeah.
Also, the mask doesn't hide anything. She is not scarred or something (though I have not really decided exactly how she looks), she just wears for what I like to term psychological reasons, which she sorts of admits to herself.
And you won't understand the cause of your grief...
...But you'll always follow the voices beneath.
He is a horned satyr. While his horns are still quite small they do appear to be beginning to curl like those of a ram. Long, tangled, earthy brown hair is pulled back and tied with a leather thong, a few strands left carelessly free, falling messily over his face. Freckles crowd across his shoulders and nose and dot his sun browned skin. His eyes are a light hazel brown but a strong aquiline nose is the most prominent feature of his squarish face. Otherwise short facial hair ends in thin dreads at the sides of his chin and where his jaw curves back up.
He is a horned satyr. While his horns are still quite small they do appear to be beginning to curl like those of a ram. Long, tangled, earthy brown hair is pulled back and tied with a leather thong, a few strands left carelessly free, falling messily over his face. Freckles crowd across his shoulders and nose and dot his sun browned skin. His eyes are a light hazel brown but a strong aquiline nose is the most prominent feature of his squarish face. Otherwise short facial hair ends in thin dreads at the sides of his chin and where his jaw curves back up.
Seems fine, really. Dunno where the English-second-language comments are coming from.
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Partially eclipsing its wearer's face, a slender crescent follows the natural curve across the
forehead to around the nose and above the lips. This honey-coloured mask of matted silk illuminates
the adjacent areas of skin exposed. Two thick silver ribbons have been attached to both sides of the mask, and when fastened behind the head, their length provides a secure fit.
@Argys I suppose I could describe her lips or something like that? I think the description still holds, but perhaps I am wrong.
And you won't understand the cause of your grief...
...But you'll always follow the voices beneath.
He is a frog-like grook, standing at around six feet tall and with vivid green skin. Brown eyes with
a greenish tinge gaze out of his frog-like face at his surroundings. His pudgy well-fed exterior
indicates a life lived in comfort and without struggle. As with most of his race, his long dexterous
hands are webbed. A pleasant citrusy odor, reminiscent of limes, emanates from him.
He is a frog-like grook, standing at around six feet tall and with vivid green skin. Brown eyes with
a greenish tinge gaze out of his frog-like face at his surroundings. His pudgy well-fed exterior
indicates a life lived in comfort and without struggle. As with most of his race, his long dexterous
hands are webbed. A pleasant citrusy odor, reminiscent of limes, emanates from him.
Not bad. Seems a little bland, to me, but I'm not sure how you'd go about fixing that.
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He is a human and is of average stature. Smooth, dark skin covers lean bunches of muscle, the stark
white sclera of his one visible eye contrasting sharply with his complexion and rust-coloured iris.
His ink-black hair is tied into dozens of tastefully matted braids hanging past his shoulder, each
lock woven through with countless bits of metal. His seemingly placid, careless grace belies an
extreme economy of motion, effecting only the faintest tinkling chimes. The metallic notes resonate
in soft counterpoint to the barely audible sound of conspiratorial whispering that seems to crawl
from every corner and shadow whenever he is present.
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To be clear, I just put it here because I'm happy with it and egotistical enough to want to show it off. I'm not concerned about any of it or really looking to modify it - the graceful thing is fine, I think. It's a statement about his general demeanour and movements. I don't think it's better to write "he's graceful except when he's falling out of trees or knocked over by tripblocks or paralysed by curare or..." for the same reason that I don't have a line about his hair that says "but when he's swimming, it's wet".
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He is a horned satyr. Standing tall for a member of his race and holding himself in a relaxed
posture, the subject before you is a man of considerable age. His unevenly chopped red and gray
hair hangs a slip above his emerald eyes. Shining fervently from his dreary visage, his eyes light
up his face that otherwise has been warped by Aeon's ever beckoning presence. A victim of the
inevitable, the sands of Time have eroded his full cheeks and youthful nature, leaving a grizzled
and aged look to his appearance. Up and down his face and under his chin, a thick beard is displayed
with pride. While rough and wiry in texture, the whiskers of bright red, opalescent white, and onyx
black are all well groomed and maintained to perfection. Atop his head, his onyx-black horns are
also presented with pride and great dignity. As long and as thick as a mountain ram's, his dense
ornaments curl above his age stained hair, making him seem even broader and taller to the casual
glance. On closer inspection, the ridged curls possess large chunks missing from the time-battered
surface, signs of the trials and tribulations he has encountered on the long and winding road he has
called his life. Not helping in his unhealthy appearance is his sallow complexion. The cheeks of his
face and the skin on his hands and neck are milk white, the only marks that mar the surface are the
puckered wounds and deep scars from years of service to one cause or another. While this dreary
appearance serves to make him corpse-like in nature, there is an ineffable energy that seems to
erupt from his thin frame. Every spoken word and every move he makes sheds any illusion that he has
a single toe yet in the grave. He is wearing a Logosian ring, a pair of steel-buckled black leather
boots, a Soulstone pendant, a luxurious black top hat, a Veil of the Libertine, a wyrmskin pack, a
Girdle of Aegis, a miniature flagon on a chain, 2 bronze heart cufflink with ruby-dusted flames, an
etched ivory ring, a ring of endurance, a fur-lined backpack, a suit of scale mail, a shackle of
Garash, a pocketbelt, a silver ring set with bloodstone, a bone ring with a magic rune, goggles of
whitesight, a sharp black tuxedo jacket, pressed black pinstripe trousers, a crimson, silk dress
shirt, and a shimmering vest of cerulean blue.
He is a horned satyr. Standing tall for a member of his race and holding himself in a relaxed posture, the subject before you is a man of considerable age. His unevenly chopped red and gray hair hangs a slip above his emerald eyes. Shining fervently from his dreary visage, his eyes light up his face that otherwise has been warped by Aeon's ever beckoning presence. A victim of the inevitable, the sands of Time have eroded his full cheeks and youthful nature, leaving a grizzled and aged look to his appearance. Up and down his face and under his chin, a thick beard is displayed with pride. While rough and wiry in texture, the whiskers of bright red, opalescent white, and onyx black are all well groomed and maintained to perfection. Atop his head, his onyx-black horns are also presented with pride and great dignity. As long and as thick as a mountain ram's, his dense ornaments curl above his age stained hair, making him seem even broader and taller to the casual glance. On closer inspection, the ridged curls possess large chunks missing from the time-battered surface, signs of the trials and tribulations he has encountered on the long and winding road he has called his life. Not helping in his unhealthy appearance is his sallow complexion. The cheeks of his face and the skin on his hands and neck are milk white, the only marks that mar the surface are the puckered wounds and deep scars from years of service to one cause or another. While this dreary appearance serves to make him corpse-like in nature, there is an ineffable energy that seems to erupt from his thin frame. Every spoken word and every move he makes sheds any illusion that he has a single toe yet in the grave. He is wearing a Logosian ring, a pair of steel-buckled black leather boots, a Soulstone pendant, a luxurious black top hat, a Veil of the Libertine, a wyrmskin pack, a Girdle of Aegis, a miniature flagon on a chain, 2 bronze heart cufflink with ruby-dusted flames, an etched ivory ring, a ring of endurance, a fur-lined backpack, a suit of scale mail, a shackle of Garash, a pocketbelt, a silver ring set with bloodstone, a bone ring with a magic rune, goggles of whitesight, a sharp black tuxedo jacket, pressed black pinstripe trousers, a crimson, silk dress shirt, and a shimmering vest of cerulean blue.
Gah, sorry about that guys....should never post after getting back from a bar...
Fixed...
He is a horned satyr. Standing tall for a member of his race and holding himself in a relaxed posture, the subject before you is a man of considerable age. His unevenly chopped red and grey hair hangs a slip above his emerald eyes. Shining fervently from his dreary visage, his eyes light up his face that otherwise has been warped by Aeon's ever beckoning presence. A victim of the inevitable, the sands of Time have eroded his full cheeks and youthful nature, leaving a grizzled and aged look to his appearance. Up and down his face and under his chin, a thick beard is displayed with pride. While rough and wiry in texture, the whiskers of bright red, opalescent white, and onyx black are all well groomed and maintained to perfection. Atop his head, his onyx-black horns are also presented with pride and great dignity. As long and as thick as a mountain ram's, his dense ornaments curl above his age stained hair, making him seem even broader and taller to the casual glance. On closer inspection, the ridged curls possess large chunks missing from the time-battered surface, signs of the trials and tribulations he has encountered on the long and winding road he has called his life. Not helping in his unhealthy appearance is his sallow complexion. The cheeks of his face and the skin on his hands and neck are milk white, the only marks that mar the surface are the puckered wounds and deep scars from years of service to one cause or another. While this dreary appearance serves to make him corpse-like in nature, there is an ineffable energy that seems to erupt from his thin frame. Every spoken word and every move he makes sheds any illusion that he has a single toe yet in the grave.
The first three are just grammar/spelling, and the last just seems to make a little more sense. Otherwise, it's pretty damn good.
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