Character Interview: How does Tibain really picture me?

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to interview one of your characters?  Well, over the weekend I tried it.  I gotta say, it really wasn't nearly as easy as I thought it would be.  My character, Tibain, got to step out of the story and be boisterous, and I don't know if I was ready for it.  Actually, he kept trying to give things away from the story, and since he wouldn't cooperate, the only way I could get him to shut it was to send him back.

But I decided to post the conversation here.  If anything else, it was entertaining, and a bit enlightening.  I have so much fun torturing him, but I've learned now that I must be more careful.  Now that he knows who I am, he might want to come after me at some point in time.  Eeek!  What a scary thought!

***

*Tibain walks in*

“Hey Tibain.  How’s it going?”

“Going?  Ok, I guess.  At least I’m still living, right?  Is my sister alright?”

“For now she is… I can’t very well have anything happen to her yet, now can I?  Considering the story is about both of you.”

“Well I guess not.  Where are we anyway?”

“Right now we’re in a blank room in my mind and I’m trying to think of what should happen next.  I believe we are at chapter 9, correct?  And you’re having trouble with the Gronjhiem.”

“Oh, so that’s what those things are.” *scowls*  “You do seem to like putting us in situations where we almost get killed, don’t you?”

“Hey, I’m the author; I can do whatever I want.  But you’ll be fine, so don’t worry too much about it.  What I want to know now is what you’re thinking as you’re trying to fight this beast off.”

“Thinking?  I’m thinking I’m going to die!  I’m thinking it’s just waiting to rip my throat out.  And now I’m really confused because I’ve started to hear voices in my head, and I don’t know why, or where they’re coming from, or even if I’m still sane or have lost my sanity completely.  I’m thinking that Dakore is never gonna get here in time and that I might as well put my weapons down ‘cause they aren’t going to do any good in the long run, and right now I’m thinking that I wish I had them with me so I could do something to you and make you pay for all you’re doing to me!”

“Woa!  Calm down there!  I’m not going to kill you off or anything; I’m not that heartless.  Why don’t we just forget this subject, ok?  And you can tell me more about your life and such.  Tell me about your child-hood with Dakore; he seems like an interesting type for a guardian.”

“He really is.”  *calming down somewhat*.  “I don’t remember much of my parents before hand; in fact, I can’t remember my father at all and my mother disappeared when I was four.  Dakore showed up soon after.  It was really strange too… It was as if he knew exactly where we were and who we were, and all about us before we’d even met him.”

“Yes, well… Dakore does have some secrets, but since I know you don’t know what all they are yet, let’s just get back to what he was like as a mentor.  Was he…. Fatherly?

“I don’t know how a biological father should act because I don’t remember having one…”

“Oh right.”  *sheepish*

“But Dakore was everything a kid could have wished for growing up… he knows so many things and has so many different talents.  Like, did you know that he’s just as good as a blacksmith as he is at farming, or even at carving?  After mother was gone, he taught me how to use some of the tools around the place and we fixed each room with its own door, and each of the windows is covered with hide scraped so thin that you can see through it.”

“Sounds quaint.”

“It is, and lovely.  I really loved our old home.”

“Yes, well… I’m sorry for your loss.  What about stories, though?”

“Dakore is the best story-teller.”

“Do you have a preference of his tales?”

“Yes, actually.  My favorites are the ones he tells about the constellations.  It seems there are hundreds and hundreds of legends about the stars, and he knows every one.  Did you know that the Dragon King has never harmed a living soul because the twin warriors figured out how to quench his fire breath?  They used his own fire to do it, too, and as long as one of them keeps hold of the Dragon king’s tale, he’ll never be able to breathe another tongue of flame.  But he still has sharp claws and teeth, and he uses them to fight off the other twin, who guards the book of Adamant.”

“No actually, I don’t remember all that, but it’s good to know.  Thank you; I’d better write it down while it’s still fresh in my mind.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But now I wonder, was there anything about Dakore that you found unsettling?”

“Unsettling?  Do you mean like how he seems to know so much about things that have nothing to do with farming, how he talks to himself in a different language, or how he goes out at night and sings to the sky?  Or perhaps you mean his short temper?”

“Yes, well…” *clears throat*  “He is a very complicated character…” *fidgets nervously in her seat.  Clears throat again.*  “Perhaps we can move on.  Shall we talk about your sister?”

“Why?”

“Because she’s your sister and I’m talking to you, so I can’t very well ask her if she’s not here, now can I?”

“If you’re the author and this is just a blank room in your mind, then you can do anything you want to do, couldn’t you?  Including bring my sister here.”

“But I’m not going to, because I’m asking you.  So, what is Arien like?”

“Like a sister.”

“No, no, no!  Give me some details about her personality.  Is she finicky, common, easily angered… what?”

“Well…” *leans back in his seat and crosses his legs* “We get along alright, but she does start fussing over the smallest thing.  Like the other day, for instance.  She was so put out that I went to talk to Dakore and she had to stay behind.  When I came back, I hardly had to say anything and she was all over my case.  If there’s one thing I know about Arien, it’s not to get her too mad.”  *leans forward*  “I’d never tell her this, but if she got mad enough, she could probably kick my butt in a fight.”

“Yes… well, butt kicking aside, what else can you tell us about her?”

“Us?” *looks around* “isn’t there only you?”

*straightens* “for now, yes.  But please continue.”

“She’s a good fighter, but too much of a girl.”

“She is a girl.”

“Exactly.  And from what I’ve noticed of the other farm girls, she’s too much like them.  We used to love to wrestle in the living room, or race each other through the cornfields, but as we’ve gotten older…” *shakes head* “well, she just doesn’t want to do those things anymore.  And now we’re running away through a desert with…”

“Enough!  You’re going to give everything away if you keep on so liberally like this.”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s asking questions.  I’m just answering them.  It isn’t my fault if a few things come out with it.”  *crosses arms*

“Fine then.  If you want to be so stubborn, I’ll just send you back.”

*jumps up*  “What, to that place?  With that… that thing trying to kill me?!”

“Exactly.  You don’t want to cooperate so…”

*the room starts to fade away.*

“No, wait!”

*The room comes back into focus.*

*I look up*  “Yes, what is it?”

“Just tell me quick before you send me back…”

“Tell you what?”

*shuffles feet*  “Am I going to win this fight”

*evil grin*  “Well, I can’t very well tell you that outright, now can I, or else I’ll give everything away.  What I will say is that IF you do come out of this one alive, you’ll be a little worse for wear.  Now get!”

*Room fades completely, and Tibain is gone*

***

On another note, this is finals week, and after that comes Christmas Vacation.  Since I don't have a good internet connection at home, there's a very good chance that I won't be on the internet much until January when school starts up again.  So, just in case I don't get the chance later, I'll say my good byes now and wish everyone a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!

But you'll probably still see me on every once in a while before January.  I must say, I've become addicted to blogging... almost as much as checking my email... which is REALLY BAD.

Until later! :D  Hugs for everyone! *throws out hugs*

Signed with an Ink-Stained flourish,

Nichole