Annie Sawyer

Questions, plotting etc.

OUT OF CHARACTER
Name: Kate
Preferred Method of Contact: Contact post
Timezone: GMT

IN CHARACTER
Fandom & Canon Point: Being Human, end of series 3
Stance on Canon Puncturing: Go for it.
Name: Annie Sawyer
Species: Ghost
Citizenship: British
Age & Date of Birth: 22, 15th December 1987
Place of Birth: Brighton, England
Last Known Location: Barry Island, Wales
Inventory: Just the clothes of ner back - grey knitted Uggs, white socks, grey leggings, white vest, grey top and grey cardigan. This outfit changes depending on her move.
Assets: Other than making a mean cup of tea she's also incredibly loyal and friendly, she'd do just about anything to protect the people she loves. She's an innate caregiver. Very nurturing, she basically wants everyone to be happy and looked after. In terms of abilities she can teleport and is telekinetic though she doesn't use this a lot, mostly just for defensive purposes.
Liabilities: Optimistic to the point of being naive. When particularly emotional she tends to get a little poltergeisty - causing electronic items to short. While she does have some ghostly abilities she doesn't have great sikill over them. Annie also can't eat or sleep, so she tends t wonder about late at night. She can taste things however by touching someone that's eating and tasting it through them.
Link to Information: http://beinghuman.wikia.com/wiki/Annie_Sawyer
PB: Lenora Crichlow

Writing Sample: Annie hadn't even had to grieve that was worse thing. Still she was pretty good at pulling herself back together. Death hadn't stopped her, being exorcised followed by a trip to Purgatory hadn't stopped her. In the grand scheme of things losing Mitchell was nothing. Anyway she needed to keep busy, that was her way. When everything was tumbling down you just got on with it. You made tea, a bad joke, you fought. What you didn't do was think about it. Because if you thought about it well she'd have short circuited the whole of Wales and really they had a bad enough time of it without suddenly losing power as well. She'd been ready to fight, she always was of course, but now she was really ready. She'd killed now, she knew that if it came down to it she was capable and that changed everything.

Or would have. Because one moment she'd been in the B+B facing down a thousand year one vampire the next she was here. Wherever here was. It took her a moment to realise it was a train, her stomach rolled along with the carriage as she staggered towards a wall and closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything but the last train carriage she'd seen. Box Tunnel. This wasn't that train. This one was nicely done up. Fancy. Still it didn't help to calm her very much. She stood where she was for a few moments, then stood up straighter, opening her eyes and reminding herself that whatever was going on was fine. Nothing could hurt her, she was already dead.

"Hello?" she called. "George? Nina?...Lia?" She had no idea why she was shouting for Lia, but this seemed like the sort of thing she might be behind, although she hadn't gone through a Door. "Can somewhere tell me where I am, please?" she continued. "Only I was sort of in the middle of something."

Annie wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to do now. Without Mitchell everything seemed vaguely pointless but she knew she couldn't think like that. Things were changing, serious shit was going down, as it were. So she was going to suck it up. She was going to do what she had to. Anyway it wasn't like they could do anything to her, not the vampires nor The Men. They had to have given up now. They had to know she was staying here at least until things were sorted. Then when it was time maybe she'd find herself a Door and she'd go through it and find Mitchell. But no, for now she'd fight, she'd carry on because that was what he'd want.

She hadn't been around Barry Island very much since they'd moved here, it didn't feel like home, not like Bristol had, but she supposed she should make the effort. See what was going on, see if she couldn't find something out, though quite want she wasn't sure. The thing about having not explored the town was that the large blue box didn't stand out as much as it might have. She assumed it was something to do with the amusement park, it certainly looked like that. It was pretty interesting though, and a distraction from everything that happened lately. Something she needed more than anything else really.

( My worse character flaw )

Anna Clare Sawyer, 22, died in a tragic accident when she fell down the stairs in the house she shared with her fiancé, Owen Williams, 23.

Poor little Annie died with her whole life ahead of her. A wedding to looking forward, a new house, plans for the future, the spare room to be turned into a nursery. She was going to have a happy life surrounded by friends and family. Owen was going to adore her and she was going to adore him and at the weekends they were going to do the place up. They were going to grow old together, like it’s supposed to be.

Poor little Annie was killed by the man that was supposed to love her, protect her, be there when she needed her. She was not supposed to be property. She was not supposed to be the victim.


She doesn’t want to be remembered as poor little Annie. She doesn’t want to be remembered as she was in life, because Owen destroyed her. Knocked her down piece by piece until she was a ghost, a living, breathing, working ghost. That is not how she wants people to remember her. Her parents can remember her as the girl she was before. Full of life and smiles and enthusiasm. The girl that was always making something, always trying to make something. That’s fine, but it’s not how she wants to be remembered, not by the people that matter most to her now.

She wants to be remembered as brave, as happy. As the girl that fights vampires, and makes tea and looks after her friends. The girl that doesn’t give up. The girl that despite her death is always full of life. The girl that came back again and again, that turned down her own Door, her own Death. The girl that upset the men with their sticks and ropes. The thorn in their sides. The girl with the best friends in the whole world. She wants to be remembered as being happy and passionate.

Of course Annie doesn’t need to be remembered, because she will always be around. That’s the wonder of being a ghost. She’ll always be able to remind people so they don’t forget.

( Read more... )

Annie was used to being at home alone for most of the day, what with the boys having work and everything. It was normal and it was certainly better than being all alone the whole time, which was how it had been before they'd showed up to rent the house. She supposed one day she should really try and get out and about a bit, take advantage of being visible while she could, but she felt safe her. The same four walls she'd kept to for the last two years keeping her anchored to the real world. She didn't want to leave the street, because she knew it like the back of her hand and that was incredibly comforting under the circumstances. The pastel painted houses, that nice old lady that always made the effort to speak to Mitchell when she saw him, the pub on the corner, the large blue old fashion police box...no wait, that had never been there before. It was the sort of thing Annie would definitely have noticed and these things didn't just pop up did they? Phone boxes in general weren't exactly that common a sight anymore, since everyone had a mobile phone now, let alone a police box. Okay, so perhaps in the great scheme of things it wasn't that odd. Not when you were surrounded by vampires and werewolves and you yourself were dead, but it was odd in its normalness. She stood by the way watching it, noticing the way no one else on the street actually seemed to be paying any attention to it, which was also a little bit odd. After a few minutes she took a deep breath and pulled her grey cardigan more tightly around herself, readying herself to go outside, on to the street. Her street where everything was fine and normal and there was nothing to worry about, not now Herrick was gone at least.

It took her a couple of minutes to finally leave the house, wandering over towards the box casually, as if it was nothing even though her heart was hammering in her chest, something particularly unfair given she was dead, but whatever. "Perhaps it's some installation piece?" she said to herself as she approached, eyeing the large wooden box. "Sort of...a comment about modern culture and old fashioned things? It's just the sort of thing the counsil'd spend money on," she continued getting just a little annoyed. "God forbid they actually use it for anything worthwhile!"

( Read more... )

( Read more... )