Character Sketch - Jasper - A First Glance

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
this is the beginning of a character sketch, evolving the new character i'm working on, jasper. there was no prompt, no base storyline for this sketch, but it did help me learn a lot about jasper's character. i recommend this exercise for anyone attempting to write a story or novel.

Submitted: September 27, 2016

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Submitted: September 27, 2016



The city's buildings nuzzled close together, trying to shy off the bitter unforgiving wind that swept it's path through the streets. She watched him stride solitarily and purposefully into the Music Stand, shrugging off people as they passed him by. It was obvious he was trying hard not to be noticed, blending in with shadow. His black hoodie and dark hair did their best to hide him, but his pale skin shone like a beacon in the night air. It didn't help that he also had a guitar case slung across his back, adding an extra foot or so to his height. His feet thud with a kind of rhythm, humming the tune he had attempted to pluck out hours before. His hoodie fell back as he swung the door open, hurrying to escape the cold. As the cloth fell back, a head full of pitch black hair like feathers was revealed. It swooped up and above his forehead, casting shadows on his face. His hair was soft and shiny, like silk. Through the murky gray cloud of people that surrounded him, his soul seemed to glow brighter than the rest. Brighter than she had seen in a long time. Intrigued, she removed herself from the brick wall she had been clinging to, the static of her hair causing it to occasionally stick up. She crossed the busy street and followed a few steps behind, welcoming the warm air on her face as she pulled open the door. 

"I just need my fret board cleaned." 

She watched as he slid the guitar strap from off his shoulder, placing it gingerly on the counter. 

"Alright, can I have a name?"


"Okay you're all set, come back in about two hours."


She strolled casually along the side wall, pretending to examine the array of CD's set out in a case. As he made his way back out the door, she slowly met his eyes. His amber chocolate irises bore into her, questioning her unexpected interest in him. Just as quickly as they met they flicked back down to the floor, and became hidden once more in shadow as he snapped his hood back up over his hair. He passed her by with the smells of a fresh summer rain, the kind whose drop's cold sweet kiss makes you shiver, yet is impossible to feel cold, because of the comforting way the warm summer air envelops you. Her eyes trailed him as long as they could; he pushed the door open, stuck long white dangling earbuds in his ears, and disappeared with soft steps down the crowded road. As much as her mind told her it was a bad idea, she longed to follow him. He had an air about him she hadn't seen in anyone for a long time; it was like being locked in a musty room and finally being able to reach fresh air. That first breath is like a miracle, you drink in every drop, and it leaves you thirsting for more.

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