Post by Berwald Oxenstierna on Jun 16, 2010 0:20:34 GMT -5
Country's real name: Berwald Oxenstierna
Country: Sweden (Konungariket Sverige)
Age: 19
History: Berwald was never rich or perfectly content during his childhood, rather being poor and having to work a long time for food and clothing or money. Because of this, now, he's very good at making things or using his hands to make things. Since he was brought up at a cold and silent place, it led to his personality becoming very quiet and almost anti-social. Of course, life was unfair for him, but he realized that himself, without anyone else teaching him. That led to him being more focused on making life better for himself, and ran away from Denmark with Tino, trying to make things better and right.
With Tino, his 'wife', he does his best to raise little Sealand, however much lacking he might be. Because of the times he's had, he needs to catch up on his education, so he can be smarter and take care of others better. That is why he enrolled in Hetalia Academy, surprisingly catching up to the others quite quickly. Berwald is striving for his goal, and wishes best for everything that might be coming in front of him.
Occupation: Student
Origin Language: Swedish
Personality: On the outside, Berwald probably has nothing special about him - just plain and giving off no particularly great aura. Compared to rather loud and rambunctious individuals, he's usually pretty quiet. This also supports the fact that he wants to go a bit unnoticed, but it is kind of hard to ignore or miss him, because of his tall height and his tendency/habit to stare with his teal eyes. Despite this outside personality, he will try to be kind and nice to others, sometimes going behind his will and power, especially for Tino, whom he worries about greatly and cares about him.
He can be seen as a Peacemaker and Peacekeeper, trying to avoid any unseen and unneeded dilemmas or situations that might be chaotic. Another reason why he keeps so silent and quiet is because he wants to let nothing slip out of his lips that might be rude or offending to others, so nothing bad will happen, leading from something in which he had said. It also takes a long time to make him mad or angered, however if someone messes with Berwald's family, either Tino or Peter, than the person is in big trouble, sooner or later.
He strives to take care of his family, as the best way he could, and hopes that they will appreciate them. A bad thing about him, is that he cannot take jokes well, going as far as to get mad about them. Overall, he is very nice, gentle and kind, and also playful, but it takes some time for him to open up and show in inside. Until then, the only part you're going to be seeing is his quiet, serious, and strict side.
Example of your RP Structure:
Everything in Gilbert's head was now a messy ball of thoughts, and he really couldn't get a grip of himself as his heavy, leather boots clanged against the marble floor in exhaustion; sweat was now rolling down his body, and his silverish-white hair, which was almost always calm and combed, was now a mess, stuck to his forehead because of the salty liquid. His crimson eyes were wide, big, and if seen extremely closely at that point, he could have also seen as desperate, hurt, and confused. What had he done, and more importantly, why had he acted so damn carelessly? Actually, in fact, he was always careless, saying everything will be all right because of his awesomeness. It didn't roll that way, the Prussian realized haphazardly as he blindly ran towards another metal door, and was relieved to see no one was there or even guarding it.
His body lurching forward, Gilbert Beilschmidt could be seen running through the lavish and richly decorated hallways of Roderich Edelstein, and anyone in their right minds would get out of the way. And thankfully, no one did get in his way as he opened the door with a groan, then was met with the bright sunlight meeting his own crimson eyes. Reflexes came to save his ass again, as his arms flew to his face to shield him from the sunlight. However, it made his feelings more gloomy - why the hell was the sun in his eyes, and why was it there? Was it, maybe mocking him for losing to his feelings before Roderich?
Shit, this wouldn't do. Slamming the door shut once more, he turned around and started to run down the hallway once again; however, he was basically running away from the Dining Room, the opposite direction. Truth be told, Gilbert was afraid and also lost - he didn't know where the hell he was, especially in this forsaken Hous- no, Mansion. The Prussian could feel a growl starting to build in his throat, and picked up speed, ignoring the stares and glares he was receiving from the maids and servants Roderich owned. Hell, how many did he own, anyway? No one got in his way, and Prussia was glad of that, at least.
His footsteps slowed down as he saw the wall meet his eyes, closer and closer. Halting on his heels, he slid down the barrier, cradling his head in his hands. Shaking his head over and over again did nothing; and finally, he gave up. Looking upwards, he realized he didn't know where the hell he was, and getting back some of his sense, he swiveled his head around to find out where he was, but to no such luck. Looking back down again, he began to think of what had happened. Gilbert Beilschmidt had came to the aristocratic Roderich Edelstein's house, and offered his loyalty, in which, the latter accepted with a couple of minutes later. And then, him, who was playing the role of the Knight, had kissed the Prince. What outrage.
A humourless chuckle escaped his lips, and he stood up, even though he took couple of deep breaths while leaning on the wall. Closing and opening his eyes, he started off again, his foot moving in steady, calm steps, even though his mind and heart was racing. His hand made its way to the white cloth over his vital chest, and gripped the cloth, as if the movement would stop the burning sensation in them. The thudding was different from when he had kissed Roderich - then, it was pleasant, but now, it hurt. It hurt like fucking hell.
Prussia had made his way to yet another wall, hammered with paintings and figurines. Without having control of his movements, he slammed his hands into the wall itself, leaving a little indentation. As he did so, a crystalline figurine shook, then shattered, falling to the ground in a rain of sharp and jagged spears. And the silverette just stood there, underneath the shower of crystals, shoulders shaking, breaths coming in little pants. Now crystals that had hit the floor now weren't transparent - they were crimson red. Gilbert's knees buckled, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he slumped onto the floor in exhaustion, kneeling. He didn't hear the sounds of the maids and servants coming to shake him to consciousness, or the shout of a guard for his master, Roderich.
Ah, Roderich...
Around the limp body of the silver-headed Prussian, shone red crystals; their usual colour was intermingled with crimson, and in the sunlight, it seemed like rubies.
