Post by Egil Ingólfurson on Feb 1, 2011 21:58:23 GMT -5
Name: Egil Ingólfurson
Age: 17
Country: Iceland
Appearance:
° Standing at 5'8", Egil is slight in build compared to other boys his age. He weighs 138 pounds and whatever muscle he has is scrawny and lean. His eyes are pink-violet framed by platinum blonde hair that is easily mistaken for silver or white.
Likes:
° Licorice
° Puffins
° Sigur Rós
° Poetry
° Taking walks
° Time to himself
° Mathias
° ((Norway))
Dislikes:
° Ignorance
° Temperatures above 80° F (26° C)
° Tea
° Fighting
° People reading his poetry
° Unnecessary noise
° Immaturity
Fears:
° One of the most common phobias, Egil falls victim to hating public speaking. The whole idea of everyone watching him and just waiting for him to make a mistake is truly horrifying to him.
° Disappointing people is another fear of his. His parents always had high expectations for him in school, and he doesn't want to let them, or anyone else for that matter, down.
° He absolutely hates forgetting highly important things, and he is always anxious about whether he is failing to remember something of high importance.
Quirks:
° He was named after Egil Skallagrímsson, a Norse hero who was notoriously headstrong, violent, and prone to berserker rages, but was regarded as one of the best poets of the Viking era.
° As usual with teenage boys, he will eat nearly anything, including Icelandic delicacies such as boiled sheep's head and fermented shark.
° He has only tried alcohol once, and that was mead. He promptly proclaimed that it was the best, and it will most likely be the only drink he will ever enjoy.
° He prefers writing in pen over pencil.
Austria's anger is Italian coffee.
° Personality: To anyone who bothers to take an interest in him, Egil is something of an enigma personality-wise. On the surface, he is cool and collected, never letting people know his emotions simply by looking at his face. He isn't one to approach people and start a conversation, and neither will he talk easily, but with enough coaxing, he will voice his opinions with stout resolution. Most of the time he prefers not to take sides, and there are few issues that he firmly defends.
Egil has a habit of daydreaming and over-thinking simple things. Most of his idle thoughts manifest themselves in the form of tidbits of poetry or the occasional doodle. He is highly protective of his creations, and only his closest friends and family are allowed to read them--and even then, they need direct permission from him. It's not that he thinks his works are bad (though he won't admit that they're good, either), but they are highly personal and the one way he expresses himself. Anyone reading through his notebook would be able to peek into the very core of his thoughts and feelings, and he's not about to openly share what he has worked to hide.
There is a side of him that few have seen, and that is his worked-up rage. Normally, he is tolerant, but like everyone, he has a tipping point, and once he begins going down, there is no going back. The times he has flown into such a rage have been few and far between; the last one was when he was sixteen, and that included swearing in Icelandic that the Vikings would have been proud of. He isn't proud of that incident, but he doesn't regret it.
Nonetheless, he is still content to live quietly, out of the mainstream. He has his few close friends, his family, his thoughts, and his poetry--everything he needs.
° History: Born an only child to first-generation immigrants from Iceland, Egil grew up in a household heavily influenced by his heritage. Instead of fairy-tales such as Cinderella and Snow White, he learned of the daring adventures of Odin, the foolish bravery of Thor, and the duplicitous tricks of Loki, as well as the valiant efforts of the old heroes of the sagas. From a young age, he was naturally quiet and introverted, and therefore didn't make friends easily. He wasn't lonely, though; he found company in writing poetry and shaping his own world through words. His parents taught him to speak and read Icelandic, but he still favors writing in English most of the time.
At school, he was sometimes picked on for being quiet, but he usually ignored the instigators and went on with life. Once, one of the kids found a poem he had scribbled in Icelandic and teased him, calling it "gibberish." This struck a chord within Egil, for it was the first time he realized that something perfectly comprehensible to him was indecipherable to someone else. He still remembers the incident.
For his twelfth birthday, Egil's parents decided to gift him with piano lessons. He wasn't by any means a prodigy, and he didn't pick tunes up quickly, but kept practicing and eventually got the hang of it. He doesn't take lessons any more, but occasionally plays little tidbits of tunes stuck in his head.
As a Yule treat, he and his parents visited Iceland when Egil was fifteen. He met his grandparents for the first time, who told him of the exploits of his ancestors, Vikings from Norway that had come to Iceland in hopes to escape the persecution of the king. He was intrigued by their tales. While walking out by the cliffs and enjoying the breathtaking view of the fjords, he stumbled upon a puffin chick that had been abandoned by its parents. He took it upon himself to raise and nurture it, and when it was time to return home, the little bird had a name: Smáskitligr, or "undersized." However, the puffin soon came to be colloquially called "Mr. Puffin" by everyone, including Egil. Though the two, human and bird, are as close as best friends, Mr. Puffin has more attitude than a stubborn teenage girl and never lets anyone forget it.
At the ripe age of seventeen, he lives with his parents and still mostly keeps to himself. His biggest concerns are his unrequited crush at school, who has inspired many a verse about love, and getting into a good university.
OOC Info[/u]
Name: Audrey
Email: nano.swanlight@gmail.com
Messenger, etc.
MSN: nano.swanlight@hotmail.com
AIM: audreyhasacape@aim.com
Skype: awesome-audrey
Age: 17
Country: Iceland
Appearance:
° Standing at 5'8", Egil is slight in build compared to other boys his age. He weighs 138 pounds and whatever muscle he has is scrawny and lean. His eyes are pink-violet framed by platinum blonde hair that is easily mistaken for silver or white.
Likes:
° Licorice
° Puffins
° Sigur Rós
° Poetry
° Taking walks
° Time to himself
° Mathias
° ((Norway))
Dislikes:
° Ignorance
° Temperatures above 80° F (26° C)
° Tea
° Fighting
° People reading his poetry
° Unnecessary noise
° Immaturity
Fears:
° One of the most common phobias, Egil falls victim to hating public speaking. The whole idea of everyone watching him and just waiting for him to make a mistake is truly horrifying to him.
° Disappointing people is another fear of his. His parents always had high expectations for him in school, and he doesn't want to let them, or anyone else for that matter, down.
° He absolutely hates forgetting highly important things, and he is always anxious about whether he is failing to remember something of high importance.
Quirks:
° He was named after Egil Skallagrímsson, a Norse hero who was notoriously headstrong, violent, and prone to berserker rages, but was regarded as one of the best poets of the Viking era.
° As usual with teenage boys, he will eat nearly anything, including Icelandic delicacies such as boiled sheep's head and fermented shark.
° He has only tried alcohol once, and that was mead. He promptly proclaimed that it was the best, and it will most likely be the only drink he will ever enjoy.
° He prefers writing in pen over pencil.
Austria's anger is Italian coffee.
° Personality: To anyone who bothers to take an interest in him, Egil is something of an enigma personality-wise. On the surface, he is cool and collected, never letting people know his emotions simply by looking at his face. He isn't one to approach people and start a conversation, and neither will he talk easily, but with enough coaxing, he will voice his opinions with stout resolution. Most of the time he prefers not to take sides, and there are few issues that he firmly defends.
Egil has a habit of daydreaming and over-thinking simple things. Most of his idle thoughts manifest themselves in the form of tidbits of poetry or the occasional doodle. He is highly protective of his creations, and only his closest friends and family are allowed to read them--and even then, they need direct permission from him. It's not that he thinks his works are bad (though he won't admit that they're good, either), but they are highly personal and the one way he expresses himself. Anyone reading through his notebook would be able to peek into the very core of his thoughts and feelings, and he's not about to openly share what he has worked to hide.
There is a side of him that few have seen, and that is his worked-up rage. Normally, he is tolerant, but like everyone, he has a tipping point, and once he begins going down, there is no going back. The times he has flown into such a rage have been few and far between; the last one was when he was sixteen, and that included swearing in Icelandic that the Vikings would have been proud of. He isn't proud of that incident, but he doesn't regret it.
Nonetheless, he is still content to live quietly, out of the mainstream. He has his few close friends, his family, his thoughts, and his poetry--everything he needs.
° History: Born an only child to first-generation immigrants from Iceland, Egil grew up in a household heavily influenced by his heritage. Instead of fairy-tales such as Cinderella and Snow White, he learned of the daring adventures of Odin, the foolish bravery of Thor, and the duplicitous tricks of Loki, as well as the valiant efforts of the old heroes of the sagas. From a young age, he was naturally quiet and introverted, and therefore didn't make friends easily. He wasn't lonely, though; he found company in writing poetry and shaping his own world through words. His parents taught him to speak and read Icelandic, but he still favors writing in English most of the time.
At school, he was sometimes picked on for being quiet, but he usually ignored the instigators and went on with life. Once, one of the kids found a poem he had scribbled in Icelandic and teased him, calling it "gibberish." This struck a chord within Egil, for it was the first time he realized that something perfectly comprehensible to him was indecipherable to someone else. He still remembers the incident.
For his twelfth birthday, Egil's parents decided to gift him with piano lessons. He wasn't by any means a prodigy, and he didn't pick tunes up quickly, but kept practicing and eventually got the hang of it. He doesn't take lessons any more, but occasionally plays little tidbits of tunes stuck in his head.
As a Yule treat, he and his parents visited Iceland when Egil was fifteen. He met his grandparents for the first time, who told him of the exploits of his ancestors, Vikings from Norway that had come to Iceland in hopes to escape the persecution of the king. He was intrigued by their tales. While walking out by the cliffs and enjoying the breathtaking view of the fjords, he stumbled upon a puffin chick that had been abandoned by its parents. He took it upon himself to raise and nurture it, and when it was time to return home, the little bird had a name: Smáskitligr, or "undersized." However, the puffin soon came to be colloquially called "Mr. Puffin" by everyone, including Egil. Though the two, human and bird, are as close as best friends, Mr. Puffin has more attitude than a stubborn teenage girl and never lets anyone forget it.
At the ripe age of seventeen, he lives with his parents and still mostly keeps to himself. His biggest concerns are his unrequited crush at school, who has inspired many a verse about love, and getting into a good university.
RP Sample (copied from the lovely Atheros forum):
Tino's snowball hit Egil in the chest, speckling his dark coat with white powder. A giddy laugh escaped his lips, and his smile widened when he saw his brother come outside to join them. This was going much better than he had initially expected.
He caught Nikolai's eye and assumed that his brother would come join his side, but the man paid to attention to Egil and walked by. They both watched as Einar, within minutes, built not a simple fort, but a right citadel compared to Egil and Tino's measly defense structures. The smile evanescenced from Egil's face as he realized that Nikolai really meant business.
The thought of attacking Tino slipped his mind as he raced to modify his strategy to include what he was to do about his brother. It was only a matter of time before Nikolai, along with his familiars, would unleash a devastating attack. The advantage he had at the beginning of the snowball fight, not twenty minutes ago, was gone, and he was starting to question his odds of coming out the victor.
A stray wisp of a half-formed idea floated across his mind: ally with Tino. It was an uncomfortable thought, as well as an improbable one, but maybe, just maybe...
"Tino!" Egil called, his cheeks numb and red. Realizing that the man probably wouldn't take him seriously from the position of his own fort--plus the fact that he didn't have a white flag--Egil stood up and brushed snow off his chest. Mr. Puffin flapped his wings at the sudden movement, but he ignored his bird and waded through the snow towards Tino's stronghold, hoping that Nikolai didn't choose this exact moment to launch his first attack. When he finally made it to Tino's site of defense, he said, before the other man could protest, "Want to ally?"
Tino's snowball hit Egil in the chest, speckling his dark coat with white powder. A giddy laugh escaped his lips, and his smile widened when he saw his brother come outside to join them. This was going much better than he had initially expected.
He caught Nikolai's eye and assumed that his brother would come join his side, but the man paid to attention to Egil and walked by. They both watched as Einar, within minutes, built not a simple fort, but a right citadel compared to Egil and Tino's measly defense structures. The smile evanescenced from Egil's face as he realized that Nikolai really meant business.
The thought of attacking Tino slipped his mind as he raced to modify his strategy to include what he was to do about his brother. It was only a matter of time before Nikolai, along with his familiars, would unleash a devastating attack. The advantage he had at the beginning of the snowball fight, not twenty minutes ago, was gone, and he was starting to question his odds of coming out the victor.
A stray wisp of a half-formed idea floated across his mind: ally with Tino. It was an uncomfortable thought, as well as an improbable one, but maybe, just maybe...
"Tino!" Egil called, his cheeks numb and red. Realizing that the man probably wouldn't take him seriously from the position of his own fort--plus the fact that he didn't have a white flag--Egil stood up and brushed snow off his chest. Mr. Puffin flapped his wings at the sudden movement, but he ignored his bird and waded through the snow towards Tino's stronghold, hoping that Nikolai didn't choose this exact moment to launch his first attack. When he finally made it to Tino's site of defense, he said, before the other man could protest, "Want to ally?"
OOC Info[/u]
Name: Audrey
Email: nano.swanlight@gmail.com
Messenger, etc.
MSN: nano.swanlight@hotmail.com
AIM: audreyhasacape@aim.com
Skype: awesome-audrey
