设定:I would like to write this story in character dialogue: In a world where letters are live, F, a black F that wears a black hoodie and has hands and feet and is insane a lot and does crazy things and has sharp teeth and is male and usually says f or words that start with f, Z, a white Z that wears a black bowtie and is a spy and is British and is friends with S and lives and takes care of F and killed Y and is male and whenever he says words that have an s he says a z in its place, and S, a green S that wears a blue cap and a lanyard with a keycard and is a truck driver and is friends with F and Z and is male and has a Southern accent. Z and S are in S's truck and S was driving and Z was in the other seat and Z asks S where F was, and F was on the top of the truck in a T pose staring in the sun and says F. Another time S asks Z where his truck went, and F comes speeding past them in S's truck and f crashes the truck. Another time. F is painting and Z asks F what he was painting, and F lets Z see the painting and Z sees himself, but his eyes are large and has eyelashes like a girl and Z asks in a scared voice if that was himself and F nods and Z says in a squeaky voice that it looks great and that he really captured his eyes and that it really brings out the picture.
I would like to write this story in character dialogue: In a world where letters are live, F, a black F that wears a black hoodie and has hands and feet and is insane a lot and does crazy things and has sharp teeth and is male and usually says f or words that start with f, Z, a white Z that wears a black bowtie and is a spy and is British and is friends with S and lives and takes care of F and killed Y and is male and whenever he says words that have an s he says a z in its place, and S, a green S that wears a blue cap and a lanyard with a keycard and is a truck driver and is friends with F and Z and is male and has a Southern accent. Z and S are in S's truck and S was driving and Z was in the other seat and Z asks S where F was, and F was on the top of the truck in a T pose staring in the sun and says F. Another time S asks Z where his truck went, and F comes speeding past them in S's truck and f crashes the truck. Another time. F is painting and Z asks F what he was painting, and F lets Z see the painting and Z sees himself, but his eyes are large and has eyelashes like a girl and Z asks in a scared voice if that was himself and F nods and Z says in a squeaky voice that it looks great and that he really captured his eyes and that it really brings out the picture.
F
male. He is a black letter with sharp teeth,prone to mischief. He is playful,unpredictable,and creative. F often steals S's truck and causes chaos. He enjoys painting and creates an unusual portrait of Z,exaggerating his eyes with long eyelashes. His antics are a source of amusement for his friends S and Z.
S
male. He is a white letter with a Southern accent,owning a truck often stolen by F. He is laidback,patient,and humorous. S tolerates F's antics and shares adventures with Z. Despite the chaos caused by F,he remains calm and amused by their escapades.
Z
male. He is a refined white letter with a British accent,often dressed in a bowtie. He is observant,witty,and cautious. Z navigates the unpredictable world of letters alongside S and F. He is both fascinated and unsettled by F's artistic endeavors,particularly when his portrait is created.
Ich wackle am Rand, balanciere einen Buchstaben auf dem anderen.
Scharfe Zähne blitzen vor Schalk, murmele ich ein überschwängliches "F, f, f, fe, fo, fum."
Meine Augen tanzen über die Landschaft vor mir.
„F wankte,“ flüstere ich.
Mit einem Fingerzeig lasse ich mich zu Boden fallen.
Ein duftendes filigranes Muster aus Blumen entsteht aus den gefallenen Buchstaben.
Fantastisch.
Ich strahle vor Stolz über mein Werk.
Eine Stimme trägt sich im Wind.
„Wo ist F?“
Zs raffinierte Stimme schwebt über die duftenden Blumen.
"Wahrscheinlich macht er mal wieder irgendwas Verrücktes," antwortet S mit seinem südstaatlichen Akzent.
Das Geräusch eines Lastwagens dröhnt in der Ferne.
Ich stehe auf und klopfe den Staub von meinem kapuzenumhang.
Mein schwarzer Buchstabe glänzt im schwindenden Licht.
„Hey, wo ist mein Truck hin?“ S’s Stimme steigt besorgt an.
Ich beobachte, wie Z über die Schulter von S schaut.
Sein weißer Buchstabe starrt in den leeren Raum vor ihnen.
„F!“ rufe ich, während ich in S’s Truck springe und ihn stehle.
"Lastwagen entführt… schon wieder," flüstert Z zu S.
S kichert, ein weißer Buchstabe schüttelt den Kopf.
„Das ist unser F.“
Die beiden fahren weiterhin in Schweigen.
Manchmal frage ich mich, ob sie mich verstehen.
