Albalvion (or Bal for short!)
Writing Albalvion 500,000 times is going to get tedious, but it’s what he told me his name was, so I have to go with it!
Do you ever get that with your characters?
The interesting thing is, I can’t find a picture that does justice to the mental image I have of him in my head. A lot of the dragons out there look either too scary or a bit dopey. There is something not quite right about them, they don’t fit with him and his personality.
Following on from my last post, I mentioned that Bal was thrust into an interesting situation involving him in a busy American diner. Keep reading if you’d like to explore that little tale.
To further solidify our characters and to help develop them into 3 dimensional characters as opposed to 2 dimensional characters, we placed our fated beings into a rather strange situation. While others in the class had no issues slipping their fantastically created characters into the American diner and delved into immersing you in the character’s perspective of the diner, I had the additional complication that Bal, here, is a dragon and really does not have any real reason to be in a diner, nor should he really know what it is. This last little bit, only came to me after the whole event with a hefty dose of hindsight, so I missed that whole area to explore.
Here’s what I came up with in the 7 minutes or so we got to come up with something.
Bal glowered, sticky tendrils of smoke jettisoned from his snout. The sickly scent of grease and fat practically dripped from the sun-bleached, soot-encrusted walls. He tapped his claw upon the only sturdy looking thing in the diner. The bar.
Why would Eve want to meet me here? He thought. Irritation cutting a stark line along his spine. The big doe-eyed locals bugged him.
Haven’t they ever seen a dragon before?
He breathed through his mouth, his long garnet tongue absently caressing his teeth as he waited for her, the stench of the diner bothering his sensitive sense of smell. He picked at a rough scale on his forearm with his non-tapping claws and suppressed a simultaneous shudder of delight and revulsion. His keen eyesight snapped to focus on the fat, grease-stained chef in the kitchen as he scratched his nether regions while cooking. The pungent aroma of the suspect meat product the chef was drowning in weeks old oil made Bal roll his eyes in disgust. Humans could be pathetic on a gargantuan scale.
I was going with his general distaste and lack of trust in humans when he doesn’t know them, I’m not sure I quite got there, but what do you think?
Now I know I don’t give you a lot to go on visually, but this is kind of what I see Bal as (not quite right, but brilliantly drawn!!)