*oik! I completely forgot to reply to this thread for so long! Here I am to grovel at your feet and beg forgiveness :P*
That’s an excellent description! I love how you use his actions to incorporate the description. It carries a lot of character, and Alessio sounds like an interesting character! I wonder what happened to him… I get the impression that he’s kind of insecure/shy, and that he’s been through some stuff XD
Thanks! *oh he’s been through some stuff…*
Here’s another excerpt where I’m describing Sahar in a fancy/formal dress, so I’m describing her and the clothing at the same time. I’m pretty sure it isn’t working and I can’t get perspective on it, so I’m asking y’all to mercilessly shred it to pieces.
Ok, so as far as the descriptions go I can get a clear image of Sahar (‘lil sweety pie) but I don’t get much of her personality here. Also, since you’re going in first person (I’m assuming Liorah) you have to show two people’s personalities at once; her’s and Sahar’s (so you don’t have to be accurate about Sahar’s personality cos it’s how she sees Sahar and all). So I’m just gonna draw from what I know of them and:
I was practically dragged into this stupid event. It took ten servants to rip my mangled hair out of its usual braid into a plaited, elegant whatever, but Sahar was having the time of her life. She twisted into an improvised dance step with enough grace and energy to flare the white ruffles of her underskirt out from her violet dress. There were even some sunny yellow flowers clasping her waist. She always managed to look pretty–unlike me of course–and the bright colors complimented her deep brown skin.
My mother probably would’ve wanted me to be more like her but Sahar was still a long-shot away from everything proper. The oil lamplight would catch her jiggling bangle, anklet and earrings with every spin of the dance and she wore jewelry like Mother wore decorum. It suited Sahar enough but they could only make me wear my kolye, the forehead chain indicating my esteemed and useless rank. Sahar wore hers too, the deep purple of the amethyst showing she was an Orme. She was so much sweetness and modesty even I couldn’t hold it against even though she looked every bit how a “young lady” was supposed to act.
Then her inky curls knocked her shoulders and she spun to a stop. And a gleaming knife thudded to the sand next her bare feet out of some hidden pocket. I smirked. So much for everything proper.
also hi @scoutfinch190! (The descriptions makes your story sounds so interesting btw!)
Don't let the voices in your head drive you insane;only some of them can drive; most are underage