Writing Ramble: Chemistry Isn't Just Random Characters

Having character chemistry is more than having several random characters who are together. Chemistry is specifically when these characters "bounce off" of each other. How do they do that? They expose each other's major traits. 

Without other characters, someone's traits might be highly subdued. If you need to highlight your character is persnickety, that may not come out if they have a lot of demands at a restaurant. "I would like a cheeseburger, hold the cheese, no pickles, no tomatoes, and extra bacon and I want medium-sized fries and a large coke with two cubes of ice." I might not even get that persnickety is the intent here. I don't pay attention to how people order at restaurants, for all I know that might be normal. 

That's why we got side characters. Side characters are there to develop your plot, but also your other characters. 

So we get Missy with her restaurant order, then Bob goes, "Uh, can I get a cheeseburger and like, an oreo shake?" 

"The ice cream machine isn't working." 

"Oh okay." And then, he doesn't even get a cheeseburger, he gets a plain burger and he's like "oh okay this is my life now."

Character chemistry is when two characters rub off on each other. How do you get stuff to rub? Friction. 

Take two traits, one from either character, that could reasonably see a plot between them. This doesn't mean they have to fight. Uh, I'm thinking MLP here in "Green Is Not Your Color" where Fluttershy and Rarity don't fight throughout the entire episode, but what's going on is that Rarity is letting Fluttershy have a model role despite being intensely envious, while Fluttershy hates being on stage, but wants to model because she thinks Rarity would be happy. 

Now personally, I dislike the episode because if they just spoke English for two minutes, the entire plot would be resolved, but this is essentially a way of having chemistry without having them draw swords and fight for twelve hours. Remember, adults shouldn't have petty high school drama.

Sometimes there's also more positive chemistry, where two traits work in combination to strengthen each other, instead of strengthening each other by friction (negative chemistry). We got Spongebob and Patrick. Spongebob is naive, Patrick is slow and stupid. They get into plots because they're both morons. Schtupids. 

Add in Squidward, some negative chemistry. All of a sudden, we get a trifecta.

 

One thing I always notice, sticks out like a sore red thumb that's swollen to the size of the sun, is that sometimes only two characters are created for each other. Almost like they're twins. Almost like they only go well with each other, and everyone else has minimal chemistry. And if there's a female who's in love with a character, may she be blessed! Because she's only going to have chemistry with the main dude.

Each of your main characters needs a relationship with each other member of the main characters (unless your main characters are split. Like I mean, if the main character has friends at work and friends at home, obviously those don't have to meet). How does, I dunno, main character best friend treat the lady? 

"Okay, but you can't have chemistry at some point. Like, I got eight characters . . . " 

Entire DND session has lots of chemistry, has just as many characters, each with starring roles. Eight characters? Eight characters is easy. Fifteen characters is easy. 

Remember, two traits that go against each other. Simple, easy, sweet. Or, two traits that combined, boost each other. Every character boost each other.

Writing Ramble: No Four Dimensional Characters

 Four dimensional characters aren't things. I've seen people suggest theories on how to get a fourth dimension of characters.

But bluntly put, three-dimensional is a term to stand-in for something good. What people want is nuance and some level of complexity. Three-dimensional is an artistic, not a scientific (well not in this sense at least) term. 

If I tell you "your characters are one-dimensional" and then leave and hit the Hookah with my hydra friend who takes up all the other pipe heads, you won't have learned anything. What I should say is that your characters are lacking complexity. 

Seeking this "fourth dimensionality" of characterization is trying to extend meaningless jargon. An exercise in futility. 

What you should be asking is how your characters slot into your story. Goals. Motivations. Purpose. 

Stop seeking the award. The title. The name. 

Look for the important part.

Neopet Nerdery: The Quest Log is Great

 A few years ago, Neopets released Trudy's Surprise. Trudy's Surprise basically works by letting you spin a slot every day, and you get Neopoints (the site currency). As the days go by, you get more and more neopoints, up until the 25th day, where you get a flat 100,000. 

Trudy's Surprise encouraged users to log-on every day to redeem their neopoints but honestly didn't do much else. There's no reason to go on the site when all you've got to do is spin the slots and slowly build up neopoints that you might use later.

A few weeks ago, on October 24th/25th, the Quest Log was released. The Quest Log basically asks you to do five tasks for neopoints and other prizes, and doing all five tasks gives you the 20,000. 

You may buy a certain number of items from neopian stores, customize your neopets, feed your neopets, and several other such tasks. 

This is great. The game is now actively incentivizing playing the game. 

In many games, there's a similar thought process with daily tasks. Now, you've got a reason to go and play parts of the game that maybe you never think about such as customization. 

To me, good game design is wherein the players are rewarded for going the extra mile to engage with the game. Not for a vague 100% or other reward, but for a tangible piece of progress.

Further, on average, the Trudy's Surprise gives you 450,000 NP a month. And with the quest log giving out at least 30,000 neopoints each day, you get an extra 900,000. This means you will have 1,350,000  NP. That's over one million. You can easily afford to shop at the Hidden Tower, and that's without extras from investing in other avenues like the Food Club and the Stock Market. (Food club could be another 450,000 if you play correctly, and Stock Market is about 30,000 more a month.)

I think if Neopets keeps up the quest log and other potential parts that encourage playing the site, the site may last longer.

Sector 17

(Protagonist is a violet.)

 

The dispenser dropped our task slips and I grimaced that I was going to have to farm. So, when Ivan retrieved his own slip, I quickly asked him where the city of Tartaglia was, and since he was a geography nerd, he explained, not even knowing I used my tail to swap our tasks. 

Cleaning the ship's exteriors? Well, beats farming. 

I live in Sector 17 so I don't get a choice in work. On the ship, there are eighteen different sectors, but sector 17 performs some of the worst tasks, with only sector 18 being worse. 

The sectors are assigned to you after schooling. As I grew up, I always wanted to be Beast Rider. Chasing and hunting with a giant creature with a gentle grip. 

But Ivan, Luke, and I were pretty bad at school. I could even remember our "court case". 

If you don't graduate school, you get assigned to court. 

Luke stood in the circular room, giggling because he was high. That was how he coped with schooling. The council came back with a verdict of "stupid" and Miss Cabbage said, "You are to be fed to the dragon." 

Luke laughed. "Bummer." And was promptly escorted to the bowels of the ship where he was eaten. 

"Okayyy . . ." I said. I approached the circular room next and I stared at Miss Cabbage, my former teacher. 

Every teacher I had from high school listened to me plead my own case. I said, "I'm not really here for school, but I've done my best to do my work as best as I can. I really want to become a rider of creatures. Forgive me if my work isn't always of higher tier quality." 

But I had to be careful. If I made this sound too much like I was genetically stupid, they'd probably assign me to lower levels where I'd have the most menial tasks. So I added some fault in my part. 

"I do think I should have stayed up longer. I deeply apologize for not passing." 

That seemed good enough to me, however all the teachers cast their votes, and Miss Cabbage said, "Sector 17, immediately." 

So now I was destined to live my entire life as I am here. Scrubbing metal ships and trying to do basic maintenance work. 

Well, that's not entirely true. There are a few options. 

Unlike other jobs on the ship, sector 17 is completely publicized. The council makes sure nearly no one ever escapes, because the paycheck is barely enough to cover necessities such as food and rent, much less medical care. No one ever makes enough money to rank-up.

So, there is one thing I do after a long day's work. 

After finishing my shift, Ivan and I went to Club Kafka.

Immediately after entering sector 17, I was given the main scoop on how to behave and act by someone who had been a couple grades higher than me that I hung out with, named Boris. Boris was nice enough to tell me about his underground club. 

The lights are neon pink, but the furniture is a cool blue. There's light entertainment from a couple of dancers. I sit as a blackjack dealer, about to serve patrons. 

Some try to count cards, but kicking them out is dangerous. If they go snitching to the administrators, we may end up in sector 18, or worse, meeting the dragon. 

So what I do is that I just cheat. 

We get about forty different "customers" a day. People need some level of stress relief. The black market of Sector 17 is oddly unbelievable for a group of individuals with minimal purchasing power. 

But I've been saving up. With this additional paycheck, I get nearly another 50 gold stars. That's twice my "official" paycheck. My goal is to grab a ticket. 

In the name of "fairness", twice a year, anyone from any sector, even sector 18, can buy a ticket to leave the ship, so long as we sign the NDA. However, the ticket costs 3000 gold stars. In all my time here, no one has ever left with a ticket. 

I thought I was going to be the first when someone knocked on the door. Boris pushed a button, making the door slide, when a Cipher Agent pulled out a laser gun. "Everybody, get low." 

No one obeyed. Instead, we all hissed and scattered. So much for that. If they had surveillance or got their claws on any records, we'd all be arrested, and I thought to try and grab the records but I knew I'd definitely get caught. 

So I scrambled into the vents and on all fours, I broke out into my own house. There just wasn't enough time. 

That night, as both of my hearts raced, I questioned if I would even get to see tomorrow. I stared at the vent I escaped from, and I realized none of this was even fair. I shouldn't have to work myself to the bone and nearly starve just to live. And nobody else should either. And even worse was that I, at least, had a shot. 

Someone knocked on the door. 

I didn't want to be attacked by an agent, but I didn't have a single weapon on me. Well I had a coffee pot, I guess, in my kitchenette that also served as my workstation where I went onto the terminals and looked up news about beast riding competitions and Towers tournament standings. 

Still, I wasn't about to take them out, even if I had a crowbar. So I opened the door. 

Instead, Ivan stood there, with several notes of stickers - the gold stars of currency. He handed them over and I took them. Wordlessly, we shared glances. 

Ivan broke the silence. "During the scuffle, I tore apart the records." 

"Oh, thank goodness!" I said. 

"Yeah, but I got arrested. The only reason I'm standing here is that I paid bail and they didn't see me destroy anything, or else I likely wouldn't be here right now. Anyway, I can't afford a lawyer. But in a few days, you can buy a ticket, you can leave." 

I hadn't even thought I'd be leaving this year, but he had saved at least 300 gold stars. With all the money I had made and scrounged up, this might be enough for a ticket. I might have to sell some things, of course. 

"Thank you," I said. "When's your trial?" 

"Probably on the same day you leave." 

"Then, I'll smuggle you out," I told him. 

"No, don't," he said, shaking his head, holding his claws out. "I would rather one of us leave, than neither of us. Don't jeopardize this opportunity." 

So that was our agreement. 

Club Kafka was no longer in order. While an investigation would be launched, the Cipher Agents didn't care anywhere near as much as the higher-ups, so the finger prints weren't usually taken. I've heard the Cipher Agents are actually from Sector 16, and don't have much incentive to work either. 

I wonder if Sector 15 investigates Sector 16? Eh, who cares. 

Boris didn't just get out on bail, but said he wouldn't even have to serve trial. "I managed to give them quite a few reasons not to suspect me of anything." He winked. He clearly meant money. 

"Wait, can you get Ivan out of trouble? If you bribe them, maybe he won't have to go to court." 

Boris paused. More seriously, he said, "Someone's gotta get in trouble. Look, I'm lucky they accepted the bribe in the first place instead of arresting me and just taking the money anyway." 

"You can't do this," I said. "We've been together for a long time." 

"So has Sasha and he knows the drill by now. Survival requires one thing--we all have to sacrifice if we want to win." 

"Seems like you're not willing to sacrifice for Ivan." 

"He'd do the same thing to me. Loyalty--this is your first lesson--loyalty is evanescent. We really need practicality. You never know who's going to turn on you." 

I wasn't able to press the issue further, and he then talked to me about where to set up shop next time in the sector. Attract new clientele. Figure out who the snitch was. I hadn't told him how I was moving out. 

However, on the day I was going out, Ivan told me he was going to report to court. 

I entered his home, while rolling my bag. His was the same issue as mine, but because of storage space and pipes and whatever nonsense, he became oddly lucky as he had extra space up top along with a floating bunk, and he didn't even have to pay. He was pouring some tea for himself, something premium. He asked if I wanted to play a couple arcade games before I left. 

I told him, "I'm smuggling you on the ship. I've got the ticket, just get in the bag."

He laughed. 

"I'm serious," I assured him. 

He shook his head. "Bro, you don't want to do this." 

"No, I have to do this for you. I'd never forgive myself otherwise, because we're friends." 

"They'll quickly realize you've got an entire person stashed away." 

"No, they won't," I said, "I don't think they'll have any reason to check my bags, but even if they do, you won't be off any worse. And I don't deserve to leave if you don't." 

Ivan asked me, "Do you really think this will work? Are you absolutely sure?" 

"You either get in there," I said, "or I put you in there." 

"Wow, threatening to put my body in a bag. Can't say I didn't expect that from you one of these days." But looking at his eyes, I think he was secretly grateful. 

So that's how I ended up strolling a particularly heavy bag, however I could let the officers notice as I went to the "exit vent". 

The exit vent was where everyone bought and placed their tickets. Well, everyone being myself. I couldn't let them realize how much I was struggling to carry someone else, so I relaxed my body, even as I was burning up. 

A couple of guards waited. I gave my ticket, and they let me board a ship. 

The pilot waved at me, and I sat on a chair. There weren't more than three other seats. 

"Big bag," the pilot said, "but not that I judge." 

"Yeah. You're sector 16?" I asked, wanting to know more about that rumor. 

The pilot shook his head. "No, sector 14." 

"Is that really better?" 

"You wanna find out, you can always ask the Council for re-assignment." 

The pilot took off. When you're in space, the ride is surprisingly smooth, especially because of the stabilizers. Almost like being on a train on tracks. 

"Have you always been on sector 14?" I asked. 

"I was originally sector 4. However, I got fired from my job and my social rank went down to sector 7." 

Wait, you could go to lower sectors because people didn't like you? In school, we hadn't heard exactly how anyone advanced throughout the sectors, maybe because the teachers themselves didn't know. I pressed him, asking, "How much lower can you go?"

"Well, you'll find out that in sectors 5 - 8 you can downgrade to the next class if you aren't productive enough. Eventually, I got to Sector 14." 

"Man, you must have done well in school." 

"Yeah, but I fell off after that." He sounded a bit depressed, but he swerved and entered another ship vent. 

We were in a different hanger, and I felt suspicious. We were at the lowest part of the ship. Wasn't this where they stored . . . 

The hallways was an intense, bright red. Dozens of guards stood on either side.

The pilot said, "We have to get off here." He sounded robotic as he said that. 

"Uh, dude, what are you talking about?" 

"My name is Vasily, but you can call me Vasya," he said. "I haven't been entirely honest. I'm not the one who takes you to Voto." 

I realized at that point that ranking up was only a lie. "Are you sending me to the dragon." 

The guards went to the rear of the ship and Vasily said, "I've never done this before. I'm so sorry." He prepared to push a button to open the back of the ship to let the guards take me.

That was when the zipper went down. I had let a little bit of space be open for air, but Ivan rushed out. I'd never seen him so quick. 

Vasily, in shock, whipped around, only for Ivan to push him away. "Okay, listen Nerd, how do we back this ship up!?" 

Vasily couldn't speak, so Ivan grabbed the stick. 

We began a wild ride.