Character meme!

[vulgarweed]

It's still music festival season, so I've hard hardly any quality time to spend with the new addition to the household. It doesn't even have a name or a wallpaper pic yet.

So I'll do a meme. (I've been tagged for another great one; I'll do that later.) This one I ganked from a bunch of people on the f-list.

1. Comment to this post with the name of a character that I have written in fic or RP.
2. I will comment telling you the following:

a. What initially prompted me to like the character enough to write about him/her.
b. One of his/her best traits.
c. One of his/her worst traits.
d. How easy/difficult I find it to write the character.
e. The story/chapter/paragraph/phrase where I feel that I truly captured the character.
f. My plans (if any) to write the character in the near future.

And/or: Ask me anything fandom-related, and I will probably answer honestly.

Comments

[vulgarweed.livejournal.com]

Geez. I think I've only written him a few times. In drabbles. But I'll try.

a. I really feel for him, and relate to him. It's not too hard to identify with someone who isn't sure where his life is supposed to be, and suspecting that wherever he is ain't it.
b. Fairmindedness, compassion.
c. Passivity, tendency to let life pass him by out of indecisiveness. (I can relate to this one big-time)
d. Pretty difficult, really, as indicated by the fact that I so rarely do. What would be really difficult is writing him without Anathema nearby. I should try that! :)
e. I'm gonna have to say it's this double drabble, which is one of the very first GO ones I ever wrote and maybe only the second time I ever wrote Newt/Anathema. A sexual fantasy brought to light; it inspires him enough to bring out his passionate side (though note; he's still a total bottom XD):

Never Again the Burning Times?

So was it really all just an ancient fertility cult? Shadwell would certainly be surprised, or maybe not. It was more plausible than the Malleus Maleficarum anyway.

Amid the mud-spattered caravans and the naked hippies and interesting herbal fumes of the festival, Newt had many more revelations (for all that he found it rather socially awkward). For once it was not just his natural ineptitude with such complicated mechanisms as ribbons that had resulted in him being tied to the Maypole, immobile in a latticework of rainbow satin and grosgrain, leaves in his hair. He convinced the High Priestess of the hosting coven that his spirit guides wanted him to stay there overnight.

As promised, Anathema came to him that night, flushed and lovely in the dark, and armed in the traditional fashion. “Do you admit your guilt, witch?” she demanded sternly, pricking him gently. “Do you renounce your evil? Do you repent?”

“Never!” hissed Newt, watching the curve of her lips, the shadows in her cleavage as she bent to pile wood around his feet.

“Then burn!” she commanded, pressing herself against him and menacing him with a Zippo. The fires that she lit didn’t harm them at all.

f. I have no concrete plans to write him in the immediate future, though I'm sure he'll turn up at some point. This actually makes me want to write Newt!fic.