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#character appearance
thecurioustale · 8 months
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I Have a Fanatical Stance on Conventions of Body Appearance in Visual Media
In the timelines where I end up making movie, TV, or video game productions of my work, I have always had a list of several defiant guidelines that I will never compromise on, no matter what—even to the point of not making the movies if it comes to it. (Nor am I kidding about that.) Here's the list:
Body size norms for male and female actors = gone. In particular, I want to dispel the ghoulish reality we live in where female actors' upper arms look skeletal and their shoulders look almost juvenilely narrow; and, on the male side, those equally emaciated male actors who look like they're being tortured just as much as the female ones to eliminate virtually all their body fat, while also being forced to have comically broad shoulders and horrifying, steroidal musculature on their arms and torsos (and sometimes thighs). I really hate to use the word ugly, because that's not fair to the people who naturally look that way or deliberately want to look that way and work to achieve it. But I will say that the norm of imposing this shit as a societal default in our media absolutely is ugly.
Body diversity = the new hotness. I don't just mean I would make all the characters fat. I really do mean "diversity": I would ensure that my casting operation selected for a variety of body sizes and types, both within and on top of any my preexisting descriptions in written form.
Female beauty stereotypes like cosmetic makeup, big boobs, and high heels = begone! Just like it says on the tin. It blows my fucking mind that still to this day our media show female characters in war zones / apocalypse conditions / etc. in full lipstick, eyeliner, lash extensions...it's just ludicrous. Makeup for the camera, which all actors receive to "correct" for the biases of being filmed, I would keep, but the cosmetic makeup as a female default is gone. Only if characters (of any sex!) would actually want to wear cosmetic makeup, and only in situations where it would make sense for them to do so, would they be filmed in it. Same goes for the high heels. As for big chests, there would be some of that on the grounds of body diversity, but it would no longer be the norm, and bra padding for size or shape would not happen (again, unless the characters themselves had in-world personal motives for doing it because they wanted it as a part of their own look; that is night-and-day different from the production forcing it onto the characters as a meta-narrative).
Height diversity = lovely skylines. There's been a long trend favoring tall actors over short ones, and male actors are always cast as or else portrayed to be taller than their female counterparts. This artificial uniformity would be gone in favor of a natural variety of body heights.
Body hair = natural by default. Characters who would actually want to wear their hear differently (for aesthetic reasons more so than to conform to social norms for the sake of avoiding scrutiny) would of course continue to do as they liked, but no longer would this be the default. Waxed chests, sculpted beards, shaved pits...it's all an artifice of social convention. Nothing wrong with it, but neither is it the natural state of our bodies, nor is it inherently superior. We need to normalize body hair in our social conscience again.
Splotches, blotches, freckles, warts, and moles = back in business! This stuff is erased for no good reason. Societies hold onto these stupid norms of erasure out of a misapplied phobia toward the appearance of "sickness," and out of a powerful bias toward conformity.
I feel very strongly about all of this, and especially about the body size stuff. I'm really not kidding or exaggerating when I say that I would not sign any movie, TV, or game contract that did not guarantee all of the above. I do not want to participate in the cultural bigotry of homogenizing human appearance. I do not want to participate in the erasure of marginalized bodies, or the lie that what is popular is also better. For me, the items on this list would be as central to the purpose of my works as the actual contents of the story.
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away-ward · 3 months
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Do you think Emory wears glasses all the time, or does she wear contact lenses from time to time? As someone who wears glasses, I like to switch them up because glasses can become quite bothersome at times, especially during certain activities.
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So, I headcanon that Emory wears glasses the majority of the time, but uses contacts when she's working on a project and needs protective eyewear, or when she wants to make a good impression.
I think her prescription is pretty light, and she's nearsighted in canon, so she can probably see well enough without her glasses. Enough to get around and not bump into things. But if she goes too long without corrective eyewear, her eyes would probably get tired and she'd get a headache.
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hatchpaper · 4 months
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Rydwaith Evergreen (current d&d character)
By Corbin Leach | January 1, 2024 (Age 30)
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sick-bay · 1 year
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i usually prefer dark hair on characters but hear me out! blood in blond/white/grey hair hmmhmmhhhmmh 😍
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exlimix1a · 2 years
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An adoptable I got from AtomicAdopts! Her name is Dewey and I still don’t know what to do with her story-wise, but I think she’s such an oomple dimple. She’s so cute
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pen-of-roses · 2 years
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Character Studies: Malithra
Malithra arde Vellian stands in the middle of the low lit shop, arms crossed, back spire-straight, jaw set with the slightest scowl, and chin tilted upwards as her, cold, narrow red eyes under furrowed thin eyebrows looked over her domain for anything that might have dared to be out of place.
Her white hair had been slicked back from her face into a tight braid with nary a loose strand to fall in her face or risk falling into her precious potions while she worked. The braid was actually lying down her back for the moment, having been unpinned from its usual crown now that she was done for the day, falling past her waist. She was as adamant as any other sharel that it be long and well cared for, the only thing keeping her from following through on threats to cut it when it dared to betray her during the long stretches in the lab.
Her stance makes her seem taller than she is. In reality, she only stands just above the average height of the common Glassfeldian. Not that most of those who interacted with knew her reputation would dare call her common, never to her face where even a raised eyebrow and smile seemed deadly, nor behind her back for fear it would find her ears. The first daughter of arde Vallien had earned her rank and reputation, both through the work she had done to help the Dawvines community, and the rumors. Though the how of how she had gotten this far ahead was better left unanswered. A fact compounded by the scars that marred her snow white skin, almost always on display on her arms, and the thick cloth always wrapped around her right arm just under the elbow. After all, what could she be hiding there if she displayed the scars of her practice freely?
She wore a similar outfit to the one she wore nearly everyday. The white shirt was crisp and devoid of wrinkles save those caused by tightly rolling her sleeves up past her elbows and the cross of her arms. Over that was a red vest. Red was an uncommon color to Glassfeld, but despite the costly price for the deep, rich color, she wore it to her lab regularly. And it stayed unstained and neat, as though afraid of what might happen if it was ever less than perfect. 
Both the vest and the shirt were tucked neatly into her dark pants, which in turn were tucked into the fur lined brown boots she wore. Those, and the white and brown fur coat she would put on before braving the Glassfeldian night air, were perhaps one of the few concessions that she was not as glacial as their home as she gladly let most believe, but did in fact have sharial flesh and blood that needed to be kept as warm as theirs. Well, those, and the silver that studded and fell in thin chains from her long sharial ears. The only jewelry she wore, for anything else might risk her potions. But the silver seemed a concession to those who knew the rumors from distant shards that it warded off beings of the Abyss. It was enough to draw the eye of the rare traveler to them and that cloth on her arm and make them wonder…
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wikiangela · 1 year
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why do we need exact and detailed descriptions of characters' appearances in books
like, I really don't care what color their shoes are, can we move on
I just read like two whole pages of descriptions of like six characters' hair, eye color, and what they're wearing in detail - and I'm annoyed lol
like, it's so irrelevant to me, do people actually care about that stuff when they're reading lmao
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madame-mozart · 2 years
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I wanted some new profile pics for myself, so I decided to picrew my good old awful-but-somewhat-endearing Mary Sue OC, Charlotte Li (she has kinda become my mascot lol)!
I tried to aim for makers that had the cute little heart in a speech bubble. The fifth and sixth one are kinda different, but I still liked how they looked overall so I’m still including them in this post.
💖 LINKS! 💖 First | Second | Third Fourth | Fifth | Sixth Seventh | Eighth | Ninth
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i don’t know HOW i missed out on this maker to create my mandela catalogue fc but i just did and i’m smacking myself bc dear god this is the most accurate depiction i’ve ever made of them in picrew
☆ LINK HERE ☆
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theidealistcynic · 4 months
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So y'know how people say the human brain can't create faces, and every face we dream is based on someone we've seen in real life? Well logically speaking the same thing applies to characters, right? I accidentally discovered who one of my character's appearances is based on and I'm lowkey freaking out.
Curiously enough, having associated the person and the character in my mind, I think my opinion of the person has gone up.
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annabelle--cane · 9 months
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sure, "I'm part of this marginalized group that I'm writing about" isn't a get out of jail free card for all bigotry, but if someone says "I'm portraying an exact experience I've had, this literally happened to me" and your response is "okayyy but think of the optics of showing that that happens? maybe keep that to yourself?" it might be time to reconsider your approach.
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away-ward · 23 days
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I don’t know why but I always picture Emory as Holly lim idk
Didn't know who this was so I had to look her up.
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She's a very pretty girl, and I can see why you'd make the connection. She has the kind of face where most glasses would seem too big on her, which is perfect for Em!
I think I'm still on the hunt for my perfect Emory, but thank you for introducing Holly to the line-up.
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goosebelle · 1 month
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when these three start sharing a simultaneous braincell it's gonna be over for EVERYONE
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Meet the Fioras.
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soappox · 15 days
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dogboy 4 dogboy☝️with tongue
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pen-of-roses · 2 years
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Character Study: Oliver Rook
The meadow is a normally quiet and peaceful place, tucked away from the busy world around it, where the only life tends to be the passing griff, the mischievous hexies dancing amongst the brightly colored flowers, or an escaped goat that had wandered far. A cool wind carries the distant birdsong here, and takes the sweet scent away to equally distant parts of the isles. Part of that peace comes from the strange air that settles over the area, warning off most travelers and unsettling to the locals who whisper of curses. They’re right in so far as it is magic that they feel in the air here, and could see too, if they bothered to be here this early, the sun just beginning to rise, with her light catching on spiderweb thin strands of silver Cast. A starry field within reach.
There wasn’t just birdsong on the wind now though, nor just the usual creatures flitting about. Instead, the haunting notes of a half forgotten lullaby were drifting from the figure playing a flute in the meadow’s heart, and an amphithere circled overhead.
They never dreamed that a slice of heaven such as this could be cast-touched, but here it was and here they sat.
A heavy dark blue cloak, like those worn by mourners, obscured most of their body. The loose brown shirt they wore and baggy cargo pants added to the effect of hiding their frame. From their thin hands and face, most assumed the rest of them followed suit. Though most strangers’ eyes were drawn either to the simply carved wooden cane at their side, the heavy scars that crawled up their neck and left side of their face, or to the silvery left eye that so differed from its dark brown, near black counterpart. Some of the scars made it to the back of their left hand too.
Like so many of the Korryn inhabitants, white freckles dusted their tan skin. Though unlike most, their brown hair was short, barely reaching past their chin, and a mess of tangles from their recent travels.
Their bag lay next to the cane, a heavy thing for most to carry, but rather light and small for it containing everything they owned but what they wore. Its contents were enough coin to buy travel and food in the next town, a couple well worn shirts and pants that had been clumsily repaired, letters that weren’t ever read, a small threadbare blanket, a canteen, a needle and some thread, a carved figurine of a wyvern carefully wrapped in a scarf—also usually untouched—, rope, and a case for the flute they played.
Here, they seemed as close to relaxed as possible. They swayed slightly with their music, their eyes were closed, and their body was loose, though their long Sharial ears twitched with every new sound and movement around them, and their eyes moved rapidly behind their eyelids. Every so often, their face would contort with pain, though it was there and gone in a second. Still, it was more honest than most of what they showed the world.
As the last notes of their lullaby were carried away, they opened their eyes to the early light of dawn over the meadow. They would have to start moving soon. On to the next town, the next crowd to get lost in, always having to stay several steps ahead.
For now though, for just these few seconds they could rest.
The amphithere settled around their neck, her feathers and scales changing from the same deep blue as their cloak to a calmer green reminiscent of the flower stems. With her familiar weight pressed against them, their body relaxed the rest of the way, and Oliver Rook lowered their flute, and shed the tears they had been holding back.
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