Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Mar 10, 2011 23:27:07 GMT -5
Name: Gilbert Beilschmidt
Age: 22 years old
Country: Germany (Prussia)
Appearance: At least 200 words or a picture, please
Gilbert is a young man with the striking qualities of an albino creature. His hair is carelessly styled, a blend of platinum colors ranging from white to silver depending on the lighting. The pale quality of his skin is contrasted with crimson eyes and he uses their abnormal coloring to his advantage since it seems to set other people off-guard. While Gilbert does lack the healthy glow of other faces, his being an albino by no means equates him to being unhealthy. In actuality, despite the leanness of his limbs and figure, Gilbert is quite robust in all other ways; especially in personality.
Gilbert, to be more specific, is said to have a ‘hungry’ look about him at times. This is glimpsed in the glitter of his eyes, that knife-edge smirk of arrogance that he often sports, and the occasional grin that seems just on the verge of feral. Sometimes Gilbert gives off the impression of a creature barely clinging to the rest of civilization and could revert at any time to more primal behavior – there is prowess in the way that he moves, an efficiency of muscles and a vaguely predatory grace.
When it comes to fashion, he tends to stick to dark colors since he knows how striking they are for his appearance. In more casual attire, Gilbert just sticks to plain, non-flashy stuff like colorful T-shirts, many of them with bands he likes or obnoxious text.
Likes: At least 7
-Cute Things. Not just animals, either.
-Beer.
-German food.
-Loud music.
-Technology, mainly computers.
-Himself; very much.
-History; especially battles and military feats
-Freedom
-Parties
-Pestering people
-Being obnoxious
-Sports
Dislikes: At least 7
-Boredom
-Being taunted for his looks
-People trying to control him
-Forgetting things; problems with memory
-Being nagged at
-Anything having to do with Russia
-Rigid people who don’t know how to enjoy themselves
-People who dislike animals
-Austria's anger -- though it is delicious.
Fears: At least 2
-That people might realize he is actually quite insecure, and exploit it
-Being beaten up by a girl, especially in public
-That he might wake up one day with no memory whatsoever
Quirks: At least 2
-Is an albino, which already makes him stand out
-Seems obsessed with recording everything down, probably due to his forgetfulness
Personality: At least 300 words, please
Gilbert Beilschmidt is an unpredictable creature. That’s precisely how he likes it. He is a young man that seems to flit in and out of the radar of other people. Gilbert might be the center of attention one day, or spending his time off lounging alone under a tree with headphones over his ears and an air of unwelcome to those who attempt to approach him.
There is something about the young man that is simplistic. Outwardly, Gilbert seems to operate on basic levels; obsessed with things like food, shelter, college, friends, money, having fun, et cetera. He is loud about his opinions in situations where he feels comfortable, not missing an opportunity to make himself look good at the expense of other more unfortunate people. Gilbert is known to be the ‘wild child’ or the party scene around his campus and off – someone capable of keeping up with the people from other schools, especially the ‘frat boys’. He keeps a journal that he writes in daily and has recorded many of his successful victories of drinking other rival school members under the tables at local bars.
Internally, for those who care to look deeper, Gilbert is a creature of complex issues. His childhood in a low-income, rigidly Catholic household left him with a jaded perspective of the world. That underlying vein of lingering resentment over his formative years is a constant pulse in Gilbert’s personality – and some days even the tiniest insult is enough to set his temper off. These are the times where the albino is sullen and unapproachable except by those who he feels close to, withdrawing to some place that is far from the social circuit of parties and positive interaction.
The signs of which ‘mode’ Gilbert is in are clearly read by his physical hints. On those good days when he is feeling friendly, he’ll generally be sporting a smug, sneering smirk while watching everything going on around him. While on the darker days Gilbert tends to frown often, scowling at people even when they have done nothing to him, and carrying the shadow of his preoccupied musings directly on his pale face.
History: At least 300 words, please
Gilbert was born in Eastern Germany. His mother was unemployed, while his father had a career in the military. Both of them had come from devoutly religious roots, and so Gilbert spent his childhood in some minor isolation thanks to the rigid Catholic life that his parents adhered him to. The benefit was that he was ingrained with discipline, a sense of honor, and strong virtues. The boy had few friends due to his unusual albino appearance and as a child Gilbert was perhaps too serious, too quiet, too withdrawn. And since his parents had fostered a desire for Gilbert to enter the priesthood, his upbringing consisted of little else enjoyment.
Then after yet another transfer due to his father’s military office, Gilbert was allowed to attend public high school. And all of the hard work put in by his parents went immediately to waste. Gilbert found considerable delight in the environment, acting up at school in ways that he could not act up at home, as he developed a personality at odds with the one of his younger years. He found sports that he enjoyed, began to get involved with social activities both on and off campus, and started to hang around with a rather dodgy group of kids his own age if just for the outlet of venting his focus and energy somewhere outside of his house.
When Gilbert graduated, he went directly into a university away from home on scholarships, taking his chance to expand his world a little further. While there is part of Gilbert that still considers a possible future in religion, his interest has become more directed towards careers that would be more satisfying to him. Gilbert has been attending the university outside of Circletown. And has become infamous on the local nighttime social scene, due to his penchant for bad behavior now that he can live without consequences.
OOC Info[/u]
Name: Hat
Email: flycanadafly@gmail.com
Messenger, etc. FlyCanadaFly on AIM
Age: 22 years old
Country: Germany (Prussia)
Appearance: At least 200 words or a picture, please
Gilbert is a young man with the striking qualities of an albino creature. His hair is carelessly styled, a blend of platinum colors ranging from white to silver depending on the lighting. The pale quality of his skin is contrasted with crimson eyes and he uses their abnormal coloring to his advantage since it seems to set other people off-guard. While Gilbert does lack the healthy glow of other faces, his being an albino by no means equates him to being unhealthy. In actuality, despite the leanness of his limbs and figure, Gilbert is quite robust in all other ways; especially in personality.
Gilbert, to be more specific, is said to have a ‘hungry’ look about him at times. This is glimpsed in the glitter of his eyes, that knife-edge smirk of arrogance that he often sports, and the occasional grin that seems just on the verge of feral. Sometimes Gilbert gives off the impression of a creature barely clinging to the rest of civilization and could revert at any time to more primal behavior – there is prowess in the way that he moves, an efficiency of muscles and a vaguely predatory grace.
When it comes to fashion, he tends to stick to dark colors since he knows how striking they are for his appearance. In more casual attire, Gilbert just sticks to plain, non-flashy stuff like colorful T-shirts, many of them with bands he likes or obnoxious text.
Likes: At least 7
-Cute Things. Not just animals, either.
-Beer.
-German food.
-Loud music.
-Technology, mainly computers.
-Himself; very much.
-History; especially battles and military feats
-Freedom
-Parties
-Pestering people
-Being obnoxious
-Sports
Dislikes: At least 7
-Boredom
-Being taunted for his looks
-People trying to control him
-Forgetting things; problems with memory
-Being nagged at
-Anything having to do with Russia
-Rigid people who don’t know how to enjoy themselves
-People who dislike animals
-Austria's anger -- though it is delicious.
Fears: At least 2
-That people might realize he is actually quite insecure, and exploit it
-Being beaten up by a girl, especially in public
-That he might wake up one day with no memory whatsoever
Quirks: At least 2
-Is an albino, which already makes him stand out
-Seems obsessed with recording everything down, probably due to his forgetfulness
Personality: At least 300 words, please
Gilbert Beilschmidt is an unpredictable creature. That’s precisely how he likes it. He is a young man that seems to flit in and out of the radar of other people. Gilbert might be the center of attention one day, or spending his time off lounging alone under a tree with headphones over his ears and an air of unwelcome to those who attempt to approach him.
There is something about the young man that is simplistic. Outwardly, Gilbert seems to operate on basic levels; obsessed with things like food, shelter, college, friends, money, having fun, et cetera. He is loud about his opinions in situations where he feels comfortable, not missing an opportunity to make himself look good at the expense of other more unfortunate people. Gilbert is known to be the ‘wild child’ or the party scene around his campus and off – someone capable of keeping up with the people from other schools, especially the ‘frat boys’. He keeps a journal that he writes in daily and has recorded many of his successful victories of drinking other rival school members under the tables at local bars.
Internally, for those who care to look deeper, Gilbert is a creature of complex issues. His childhood in a low-income, rigidly Catholic household left him with a jaded perspective of the world. That underlying vein of lingering resentment over his formative years is a constant pulse in Gilbert’s personality – and some days even the tiniest insult is enough to set his temper off. These are the times where the albino is sullen and unapproachable except by those who he feels close to, withdrawing to some place that is far from the social circuit of parties and positive interaction.
The signs of which ‘mode’ Gilbert is in are clearly read by his physical hints. On those good days when he is feeling friendly, he’ll generally be sporting a smug, sneering smirk while watching everything going on around him. While on the darker days Gilbert tends to frown often, scowling at people even when they have done nothing to him, and carrying the shadow of his preoccupied musings directly on his pale face.
History: At least 300 words, please
Gilbert was born in Eastern Germany. His mother was unemployed, while his father had a career in the military. Both of them had come from devoutly religious roots, and so Gilbert spent his childhood in some minor isolation thanks to the rigid Catholic life that his parents adhered him to. The benefit was that he was ingrained with discipline, a sense of honor, and strong virtues. The boy had few friends due to his unusual albino appearance and as a child Gilbert was perhaps too serious, too quiet, too withdrawn. And since his parents had fostered a desire for Gilbert to enter the priesthood, his upbringing consisted of little else enjoyment.
Then after yet another transfer due to his father’s military office, Gilbert was allowed to attend public high school. And all of the hard work put in by his parents went immediately to waste. Gilbert found considerable delight in the environment, acting up at school in ways that he could not act up at home, as he developed a personality at odds with the one of his younger years. He found sports that he enjoyed, began to get involved with social activities both on and off campus, and started to hang around with a rather dodgy group of kids his own age if just for the outlet of venting his focus and energy somewhere outside of his house.
When Gilbert graduated, he went directly into a university away from home on scholarships, taking his chance to expand his world a little further. While there is part of Gilbert that still considers a possible future in religion, his interest has become more directed towards careers that would be more satisfying to him. Gilbert has been attending the university outside of Circletown. And has become infamous on the local nighttime social scene, due to his penchant for bad behavior now that he can live without consequences.
RP Sample: (This is taken from a historical RP about Prussia in his last days as a nation.)
The days were getting shorter now; daytime skies fading to twilight earlier as the weeks stretched on. Prussia took advantage of them when he could, retreating to this certain armchair that he spent all his spare time in lately when his responsibilities did not press him out of his house. His efforts today to bask in the sunlight spilling in through the nearby window were ruined by a bought of sleep that snuck up and claimed him without warning. An attendant had remarked to Gilbert just the other day that the nation had taken to sleeping more often these last few months, and the Prussian had been amused to be chided by some inferior officer lecturing him on shirking his duties when there was a war being fought.
Prussia had simply laughed off the lecture, red eyes amused and full of secrets. No one knew the state of things better than he did. Not even little Ludwig completely comprehended what was coming; he always seemed bothered by that smirk on Prussia’s face, that knowing smile. Gilbert had seen the outcome the second that the first move was made on this worldwide chessboard – as soon as he had gone swaggering into the office of his boss and saw the triumphant glow on the face of the Reich Puppet who had swept his government out from underneath his feet, Prussia comprehended what this war would cost.
He had read it on the faces of the Allied Nations when they had gathered to assess the level of damage that they had done to one another; pitted as they were by mortal men, tearing back and forth with a desperation for victory right up until the moment when that little hotshot America let his people drop that rather frightening weapon to pummel the reedy Japan into submission. Prussia could tell, as he leant against his brother’s ever-sturdy frame, precisely what was going to happen to him now that the Third Reich had been defeated just by the signs he read from their faces: Great Britain’s avoiding eyes and the constant scowling of those ridiculously big eyebrows; America, the least battered of them all, staring at him like some blank-faced puppy (as if Prussia had never been there at the beginning, had never helped that fledgling brat stand up to the British Empire or set foot on the New World to train intolerable country bumpkins how to fight like soldiers); France, who for all of their bad moments in time and had looked to Gilbert as just another unfortunate pawn in this struggle, could not even bring himself to look upon Prussia; China with his unreadable face, bearing no judgment but also no mercy; and Russia – who for all of his wear and tear still seemed like all of this was some game that had been worth passing the time to play.
There was no chance for a dead man walking.
Gilbert heard a sound from nearby, a familiar chirping near his ear. It began to rouse him from sleep and the Prussian began to sluggishly peel his eyes open to see what had excited the fuzzy little bird that had taken to liking him some unknown time ago. He paused, forehead marred with a confused crease, as a hand thumped down heavily on the crown of his head. Prussia relaxed his limbs when he felt it ruffling through his hair, familiar and paternal, and the nation’s lean figure sank deeper into the softness of his armchair as he tried to sound properly irritated. “Eh? Couldn’t you tell that I was sleeping here?”
“So sorry. I just came to check in.” A weathered hand plucked at the blanket that Gilbert had wound around himself like some protective shield, tucking the folds back up around the Prussian’s shoulders. Then it resumed patting at white hairs, sorting them back into some carefree style. “Almost time now, isn’t it?”
Prussia snorted derisively, already halfway a snore as sleep threatened to overwhelm him again. “A few more days. Bastards won’t know what to do without me around. I keep things interesting.”
He was patted again, and Gilbert imagined that he could feel the warmth of that palm seeping into his hair as the man spoke again. “You fought well. It’s time for a rest.”
“Nn.” Gilbert’s grunt was vague. He threatened to stir when that hand retreated, voice thick with sleep. “Hey, Fritz?”
“Ja, Pruben?”
“…Feh. I forget.” With an additional, incomprehensible mumble, Prussia fell back into slumber as that chirp carried on beside him and the impression of some phantom contact still tingled across his scalp.
The days were getting shorter now; daytime skies fading to twilight earlier as the weeks stretched on. Prussia took advantage of them when he could, retreating to this certain armchair that he spent all his spare time in lately when his responsibilities did not press him out of his house. His efforts today to bask in the sunlight spilling in through the nearby window were ruined by a bought of sleep that snuck up and claimed him without warning. An attendant had remarked to Gilbert just the other day that the nation had taken to sleeping more often these last few months, and the Prussian had been amused to be chided by some inferior officer lecturing him on shirking his duties when there was a war being fought.
Prussia had simply laughed off the lecture, red eyes amused and full of secrets. No one knew the state of things better than he did. Not even little Ludwig completely comprehended what was coming; he always seemed bothered by that smirk on Prussia’s face, that knowing smile. Gilbert had seen the outcome the second that the first move was made on this worldwide chessboard – as soon as he had gone swaggering into the office of his boss and saw the triumphant glow on the face of the Reich Puppet who had swept his government out from underneath his feet, Prussia comprehended what this war would cost.
He had read it on the faces of the Allied Nations when they had gathered to assess the level of damage that they had done to one another; pitted as they were by mortal men, tearing back and forth with a desperation for victory right up until the moment when that little hotshot America let his people drop that rather frightening weapon to pummel the reedy Japan into submission. Prussia could tell, as he leant against his brother’s ever-sturdy frame, precisely what was going to happen to him now that the Third Reich had been defeated just by the signs he read from their faces: Great Britain’s avoiding eyes and the constant scowling of those ridiculously big eyebrows; America, the least battered of them all, staring at him like some blank-faced puppy (as if Prussia had never been there at the beginning, had never helped that fledgling brat stand up to the British Empire or set foot on the New World to train intolerable country bumpkins how to fight like soldiers); France, who for all of their bad moments in time and had looked to Gilbert as just another unfortunate pawn in this struggle, could not even bring himself to look upon Prussia; China with his unreadable face, bearing no judgment but also no mercy; and Russia – who for all of his wear and tear still seemed like all of this was some game that had been worth passing the time to play.
There was no chance for a dead man walking.
Gilbert heard a sound from nearby, a familiar chirping near his ear. It began to rouse him from sleep and the Prussian began to sluggishly peel his eyes open to see what had excited the fuzzy little bird that had taken to liking him some unknown time ago. He paused, forehead marred with a confused crease, as a hand thumped down heavily on the crown of his head. Prussia relaxed his limbs when he felt it ruffling through his hair, familiar and paternal, and the nation’s lean figure sank deeper into the softness of his armchair as he tried to sound properly irritated. “Eh? Couldn’t you tell that I was sleeping here?”
“So sorry. I just came to check in.” A weathered hand plucked at the blanket that Gilbert had wound around himself like some protective shield, tucking the folds back up around the Prussian’s shoulders. Then it resumed patting at white hairs, sorting them back into some carefree style. “Almost time now, isn’t it?”
Prussia snorted derisively, already halfway a snore as sleep threatened to overwhelm him again. “A few more days. Bastards won’t know what to do without me around. I keep things interesting.”
He was patted again, and Gilbert imagined that he could feel the warmth of that palm seeping into his hair as the man spoke again. “You fought well. It’s time for a rest.”
“Nn.” Gilbert’s grunt was vague. He threatened to stir when that hand retreated, voice thick with sleep. “Hey, Fritz?”
“Ja, Pruben?”
“…Feh. I forget.” With an additional, incomprehensible mumble, Prussia fell back into slumber as that chirp carried on beside him and the impression of some phantom contact still tingled across his scalp.
OOC Info[/u]
Name: Hat
Email: flycanadafly@gmail.com
Messenger, etc. FlyCanadaFly on AIM
