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Artemis Fowl—Ten years old
Artemis rubbed his eyes and sighed, sitting back in his chair. Another false lead. He had been searching for the People for months now, and he wasn't going to give up—it might take a few years, but he would find them.
This, for example—the strange golden bracelet with what might be curling vines and stones, but might also be letters. No, he'd thought it might be—not the book—but connected somehow. There was something about it that had convinced him of it's importance. This one wasn't a scam, not like the others.
And yet it wasn't what he was looking for.
He sighed, twirling it idly between his fingers. Staring at it. He let his mind wander, listening to the hum of the flatscreen TVs. It was late. Midnight, perhaps. It was a weekend, so he could stay up as long as he wished and no one at school would be the wiser. Because they couldn't know. None of them could know. Not about his mother.
The gold bracelet shone eerily, reflecting the light of the TVs, the news, on constantly, because he needed to be the first to know when his father was found. He would be found, Artemis thought, his mind growing slower with tiredness, as he stared at the bracelet in his hand. He had to be.
He didn't know when he finally fell asleep, sitting in the chair, his feet not reaching the floor.
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I am not sure if I got his character quite right, it's the first time i've tried writing him. It's not a story, just a scene. I was rereading the first couple of pages of Artemis Fowl, and started thinking about how young he was when his father disappeared, and I ended up writing this.