Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Apr 9, 2011 12:52:58 GMT -5
GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT
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I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over my awesome~[/center]
NAME:[/font] Gilbert Beilschmidt
AGE: 18
GRADE: 12/Senior
NATIONALITY: Prussian (technically German, but try telling him that)
POSITIVE TRAITS:
- prideful
- confident (although sometimes it gets to the point where it can be labeled as a bad trait…)
- can actually get work done…when he wants to
- sense of morality
- caring (somewhat…)
NEGATIVE TRAITS:
- vulgar/uncouth
- tendency to be nosy…
- LOUD
- rude
- lazy
- causes trouble
LIKES:
- fighting to become stronger
- lots of attention
- playing music
- eating
- writing in his journal/diary, blogs, etc.
- Ludwig and Feliciano.
DISLIKES:
- lack of sleep
- lvan Braginski/Russia
- loneliness (though he may say otherwise)
- any word that sounds like “mark”
- boredom
FEARS:
- Elizaveta/Hungary. Namely her frying pan.
- Something happening to his family and close friends
out of character
NAME: ….u-uhm…Kayco.
OTHER CHARACTERS: Not on here, no, but...normally I play Russia...
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
[Ahaha….because I’m paranoid like that, have a brand-spanking new roleplay sample~ Gakuen, of course~]
He couldn’t remember exactly when he started going about his day on a daily schedule. Perhaps Ludwig finally rubbed off on him somewhat.
But as long as Mother Nature cooperated, Gilbert’s day would go about the same as it always did.
For the middle of November, it was rather warm, and the sun peeked gently through the closed blinds of Gilbert’s dorm room. A typical, peaceful morning, with everything cliché included. Morning birds chirping happily outside the window, the low, but comforting, lull of the traffic commune humming into the air, and the quiet chattering of students who awaken from their slumber much too early for his taste. And, simply because it was his dorm room, and he shared that room with his younger brother, the instant his eyes flew open there would be the soothing drone of water hitting tiles coming from the bathroom.
Yet, he didn’t break away from his dreams until his alarm cut through like a knife, exactly at 7;01 a.m., like it did every morning. Gilbert was never prepared for the disgraceful interruption, however, and once the blaring sounded off he tumbled out of his sheets and onto the floor, dragging his pillow down with him. By the time Gilbert managed to untangle himself, Ludwig would be finished with his shower and his cell phone would signal that he received a text message, it being one he had sent to himself the night before. It was precautionary, really, in case he slept through the alarm, and also to show Ludwig that he was able to think ahead of time, instead of just in the present.
With little interest, Gilbert flung his pillow behind him so that it hit the wall adjacent to his bed and slid down, landing softly on the mattress. His sheets followed soon after, curling up into a jumbled mess that was always sorted out by someone by the time he collapsed onto his bedding late that night.
Yawning and stretching out in resemblance of a cat, bared teeth and all, he blinked once, twice, then headed over to his closet and mechanically pulled out his uniform, staring at the door the entire time. A dulled process: take off shorts, put new ones on, take off shirt, put a new one on. Without breaking eye contact with the closet door, Gilbert rummaged around in his drawers and fished out a pair of socks, slipping those on his cold feet and shoes followed soon after.
Once complete with that, he would glance in the mirror, muss his hair up until all the locks fell into the right, disorderly order, deem his appearance worthy of a new day, and head out the door, snatching up his phone and book bag. One foot out the door, and Gilbert would peek back in, nodding at Ludwig (and receiving one in return), then hold his hand out and whistle a quick note at his companion perched by his bedside.
Köni ruffled his downy feathers and blinked at Gilbert, flapping his wings experimentally before flying the short distance to his owner and landing on his outstretched hand with a tired chirp.
Now properly prepared for the rest of the day, Gilbert turned and headed out the door, Köni on his shoulder and a sense of routine telling his feet to propel himself forward.
He passed by classroom after classroom, down hallways, up stairs, down stairs, greeting people as he walked by them in the corridors until he finally stood in front of the study hall, where he usually spent the remainder of his morning right up to the moment that the bell rang and he had to get up once again to go to his first class. Gilbert glanced at the clock on the opposite side of the hall, 7:34 a.m., and sat down at the table he normally occupied; a round desk with four chairs and the knowledge surrounding the object that it was his spot, no one else allowed. With the obvious exception that if he let them sit there.
After one final stretch and a roll of the shoulders to shake off the last remnants of drowsiness, Gilbert plopped himself down into a chair and slung his bag over the back of it, pulling out a pad of paper and a pencil. He propped his feet up onto the table surface and began writing, nothing in particular, just weaving words into reality from thoughts, quickly filling a page and turning over to the next, unaware of anything and everything that was going on around him, lost in his own world.
For the time being.
[Okay, uhm…I…prefer to call his bird Köni, as in the capital of Prussia “Königsberg,” and…don’t get me wrong, I love Gilbird as Gilbird, it’s just…I…am so paranoid. I-If anyone doesn’t like it, I can stop calling his bird that…justaquicksidenoteOTL…]
He couldn’t remember exactly when he started going about his day on a daily schedule. Perhaps Ludwig finally rubbed off on him somewhat.
But as long as Mother Nature cooperated, Gilbert’s day would go about the same as it always did.
For the middle of November, it was rather warm, and the sun peeked gently through the closed blinds of Gilbert’s dorm room. A typical, peaceful morning, with everything cliché included. Morning birds chirping happily outside the window, the low, but comforting, lull of the traffic commune humming into the air, and the quiet chattering of students who awaken from their slumber much too early for his taste. And, simply because it was his dorm room, and he shared that room with his younger brother, the instant his eyes flew open there would be the soothing drone of water hitting tiles coming from the bathroom.
Yet, he didn’t break away from his dreams until his alarm cut through like a knife, exactly at 7;01 a.m., like it did every morning. Gilbert was never prepared for the disgraceful interruption, however, and once the blaring sounded off he tumbled out of his sheets and onto the floor, dragging his pillow down with him. By the time Gilbert managed to untangle himself, Ludwig would be finished with his shower and his cell phone would signal that he received a text message, it being one he had sent to himself the night before. It was precautionary, really, in case he slept through the alarm, and also to show Ludwig that he was able to think ahead of time, instead of just in the present.
With little interest, Gilbert flung his pillow behind him so that it hit the wall adjacent to his bed and slid down, landing softly on the mattress. His sheets followed soon after, curling up into a jumbled mess that was always sorted out by someone by the time he collapsed onto his bedding late that night.
Yawning and stretching out in resemblance of a cat, bared teeth and all, he blinked once, twice, then headed over to his closet and mechanically pulled out his uniform, staring at the door the entire time. A dulled process: take off shorts, put new ones on, take off shirt, put a new one on. Without breaking eye contact with the closet door, Gilbert rummaged around in his drawers and fished out a pair of socks, slipping those on his cold feet and shoes followed soon after.
Once complete with that, he would glance in the mirror, muss his hair up until all the locks fell into the right, disorderly order, deem his appearance worthy of a new day, and head out the door, snatching up his phone and book bag. One foot out the door, and Gilbert would peek back in, nodding at Ludwig (and receiving one in return), then hold his hand out and whistle a quick note at his companion perched by his bedside.
Köni ruffled his downy feathers and blinked at Gilbert, flapping his wings experimentally before flying the short distance to his owner and landing on his outstretched hand with a tired chirp.
Now properly prepared for the rest of the day, Gilbert turned and headed out the door, Köni on his shoulder and a sense of routine telling his feet to propel himself forward.
He passed by classroom after classroom, down hallways, up stairs, down stairs, greeting people as he walked by them in the corridors until he finally stood in front of the study hall, where he usually spent the remainder of his morning right up to the moment that the bell rang and he had to get up once again to go to his first class. Gilbert glanced at the clock on the opposite side of the hall, 7:34 a.m., and sat down at the table he normally occupied; a round desk with four chairs and the knowledge surrounding the object that it was his spot, no one else allowed. With the obvious exception that if he let them sit there.
After one final stretch and a roll of the shoulders to shake off the last remnants of drowsiness, Gilbert plopped himself down into a chair and slung his bag over the back of it, pulling out a pad of paper and a pencil. He propped his feet up onto the table surface and began writing, nothing in particular, just weaving words into reality from thoughts, quickly filling a page and turning over to the next, unaware of anything and everything that was going on around him, lost in his own world.
For the time being.
[Okay, uhm…I…prefer to call his bird Köni, as in the capital of Prussia “Königsberg,” and…don’t get me wrong, I love Gilbird as Gilbird, it’s just…I…am so paranoid. I-If anyone doesn’t like it, I can stop calling his bird that…justaquicksidenoteOTL…]
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