Post by Berwald Oxenstierna on Oct 20, 2012 18:24:15 GMT -5
B erwald Oxenstierna
° N-ame || Berwald Oxenstierna
° A-liases || Ber and Sve if he's close enough to you. Hugo, Viktor or Loke if it's illegal business.
° A-ge || 24 years
° G-ender || Male
° F-amily || None.
° E-ye color || Greenish-blue. Cyan more likely.
° H-air color || Pale to light blonde, short and often times messy
° H-eight || 6'5"
° W-eight || 192 lbs.
° D-efining features || A perpetual intimidating/scary facial expression
° A-dditional features || Berwald is burly but also a bit lanky, undeniably suited for his lifestyle. His muscles are defined but not overly so as it isn't noticeable underneath his clothing which is suited for colder weather and perfect for concealing things from prying eyes. He has large hands with long, nimble fingers. His gate is not quite graceful but not lumbering, being somewhere in between the two that allows him to move in and out of thick crowds.
His clothing is often thicker and longer than other people's out of habit from when he was younger but varies in style and level of comfort/formality. More often than not while in his workshop he'll be wearing something loose and lightweight that won't get in the way of his movements, wearing the same thing when out doing repairs. While shopping or doing other tasks a simple turtleneck or something similar will suffice, however, when dealing with his less than legal occupation a long navy blue coat and a pair of black pants is customary but something more casual and less conspicuous will also find it's way in there on occasion. He does own several suits and other formal wear but chances are that they're hidden or lost somewhere in his home.
° J-ob || Carpenter, Underground Weapon Merchant
° R-eason for current profession || He's good at what he does and he needed the money
° D-istrict || Trade District
° P-ersonality ||
What most people see when they encounter Berwald is a very calm and serious individual. His exterior rarely changes which is why people assume this along with his no nonsense agenda. He isn't particularly fond of people who slack off or those who don't take anything seriously which is why his imposing seriousness can be a bit over the top. He is peaceable enough man though and often simply lets things take their own path without interference which makes him somewhat of a lacky with the few friends he has, usually following them around on their wanderings without a single complaint. After all why make waves when you can simply sit back and enjoy where life takes you.
For people who manage to break down Berwald's walls (a massive feat in itself) they find an incredibly accepting and loyal companion. He doesn't really care who, what, where or why you are who you are, all that matters is that you are officially one of his people. He would do nothing short of preforming miracles for those select few, even so far as to get arrested in their place. However, it is this devotion that can be dangerous for all parties. For Berwald it means he can be taken advantage of and used while for others the overprotective watch Berwald has over them can be suffocating and potentially harmful to others.
There is a lighter, less dangerous side of Berwald that people are astounded by: his childlike playfulness and mischievousness. Most, if not all, would never think the tall, scary monster would ever take part in games of tag or catch or even pranks and jokes. But he does and the transformation in his behavior is remarkable. He becomes less uptight and productive, opting for a more carefree and relaxed demeanor. Though he still doesn't smile (or attempt as it should be stated) the enjoyment is obvious in the way he behaves and carries himself. Be cautioned though. He only shows this side of himself top children for he believes they are less judgmental and more willing to accept others.
Almost as surprising if not more so is how affectionate Berwald is. Due to his outward appearance very few brave souls have ever tried to get close to him let alone actually touch him. Because of this Berwald is rather touch starved and coupled with the fact Berwald is a very tactile person it proves to be a very unfortunate situation. However as deprived as he is Berwald will never make the first move unless given permission or under particular circumstances. If someone takes the initiative and decides to touch him he'll be more willing to reciprocate and might even feel bold enough to give some small form of affection in return. The contact doesn't have to be big or extravagant it can be as simple as holding hands or even a hug, either of which is met with great enthusiasm.
Alas even with all these good traits (good being used lightly) Berwald had perhaps the most dangerous flaw: a monstrous temper. While Berwald can be credited with a rather long fuse, when he does finally snap it can only be described as the work of nightmares. Everything is a target and nothing is sacred. He lashes out at anyone and everyone with no thought as to the consequences. Things that normally hold great weight such as murder and manslaughter are but words passing through a mind set on bloodlust. Thankfully when his rages are over Berwald is back to his typical level headed self but with a burning sensation of guilt and remorse in his chest and a conscience not even all the holy men in the world could relieve. There has only been one person to bring him out of his anger before anything too drastic has occured, their face and name faded into a mere ghost in Berwald's mind.
With his height and build, Berwald could well be considered the picture of grace but he is quite the opposite. He is uncoordinated and clumsy in his own skin, often running into things and tripping over himself which is why he often looks battered and bruised. He is uncomfortable in his oversized body and is self conscious of himself to an exceptional degree. This worrying is only intensified by realization that people tend to stare at him. Eventually Berwald learns to relax around the scrutinizing gazes of passersby and becomes more confident in who he is and what he looks like.
° L-ikes ||
° D-islikes ||
° F-ears ||
° G-oals ||
° H-istory ||
If you were to ask Berwald about his past even if he wanted to answer you he wouldn't be able to. He does remember scattered things like birthdays, injuries and the occasional festival, perhaps even the wisp of a face every now and again but he truly remembers nothing besides that. He's not entirely sure why that is but after wasting almost his entire life trying to recall something, anything about himself he's given up and doesn't care anymore.
What he's forgotten is that he was orphaned almost from birth by parents far too young to be able to care for a child. Berwald was a normal youngster, intelligent and friendly from the start without a shred of violence or ill-will in him, until an accidental trauma to his head caused memory damage at the trever age of six. Problems recalling anything he previously knew arose and despite everyone's best attempts there was nothing to be done for him. So he lived on and did his best to cope though he forgot nearly everything shortly after relearning it. It was this frustration that led to his temper developing and acts of violence becoming frequent enough to cause perpetual fear of the quickly growing boy. As soon as he was old enough to fend for himself he was forced out of the place he had called home onto the streets.
So the volatile giant was set loser upon Atheros to seek his fortune and make his way in the world. And he did. With surprising ease and ingenuity. His reserved nature and unapproachable exterior made him an excellent match for the underground workings of the weapons business while his peaceable undertone made him unlikely to ever be suspected of such things. As such he became incredibly skilled in dealing and eventually earned enough money to build his own workshop to pursue a more enjoyable carpentry practice.
° R-oleplay example ||
Short painful breaths passed through a pair of pale lips as small puffs of frost billowed forth into the growing darkness. Sharp green-blue eyes flickered all around, looking for any movement. A wet tongue darted out to moisten a pair of chapped lips but only succeeded in making it worse.
Rising from his crouching position among the brush, Sweden hunched over and attempted a sprint to a large tree. Taking only a moment to assess possible footholds he scrambled up, his large size making it difficult. Grabbing a study branch with both hands, he hauled himself up, grunting quietly at the effort before straightening out against the branch.
Letting out a soft sigh of relief, Sweden tensed at the sounding of feet crunching through snow. Gazing down carefully from his perch, all of his senses were on overdrive. The rough needles of the tree digging into skin where they had gotten under clothing, the numbing pain of cold as it seeped through his warm winter clothing and stole away all his warmth... As if magic, a figure melted from the darkness with a small light in it's hand.
The figure was cloaked in thick clothing that masked it's gender yet allowed easy movement. It was small, much smaller than Sweden and under any other circumstances he wouldn't have thought twice about taking it on. After pausing and sweeping the light around slowly, obviously looking for something, someone, it began to move away and turned to walk another direction.
Relaxing his rigid position, Sweden let his head rest on the branch, arms wrapped around it in a bear hug. Relief washed over him in a welcome tide before dying instantly as an suckle subtle groan sounded. Easing himself up a slowly as possible, all hope fled from his body as a loud crack came below him and he plummeted towards the ground, slamming into branches on the way.
Finally his topple creased and he openned his eyes a crack to look out at the world. He saw nothing until blinding white flooded his eyes and caused him to give a low whine. After a moment the light moved to point away and Sweden risked opening his eyes. At first he saw only spots of light before they faded and revealed the figure from before, only this time upside down, his face lit up in triumph.
"I win, papa! But, uh, we should probably get mama to cut you down first so you don't look like Jerk England when he's mad."
Glancing up.. or down at himself he realized he was in fact caught hanging from a tree. Reaching up with his hands he made to undo the branches but fell back, numb fingers unable to grab anything. Huffing in resignation, he let his and dangle above his head as he waited for Peter to return with Finland.
Note t'self: no trees next t'me.
° U-sername || Hebisuna
° A-ge || 16
° T-ime zone || Central I believe
°W-hat is the secret phrase from the Rules? || Soyez Prêtres
° N-ame || Berwald Oxenstierna
° A-liases || Ber and Sve if he's close enough to you. Hugo, Viktor or Loke if it's illegal business.
° A-ge || 24 years
° G-ender || Male
° F-amily || None.
\-|-°-|-/
° E-ye color || Greenish-blue. Cyan more likely.
° H-air color || Pale to light blonde, short and often times messy
° H-eight || 6'5"
° W-eight || 192 lbs.
° D-efining features || A perpetual intimidating/scary facial expression
° A-dditional features || Berwald is burly but also a bit lanky, undeniably suited for his lifestyle. His muscles are defined but not overly so as it isn't noticeable underneath his clothing which is suited for colder weather and perfect for concealing things from prying eyes. He has large hands with long, nimble fingers. His gate is not quite graceful but not lumbering, being somewhere in between the two that allows him to move in and out of thick crowds.
His clothing is often thicker and longer than other people's out of habit from when he was younger but varies in style and level of comfort/formality. More often than not while in his workshop he'll be wearing something loose and lightweight that won't get in the way of his movements, wearing the same thing when out doing repairs. While shopping or doing other tasks a simple turtleneck or something similar will suffice, however, when dealing with his less than legal occupation a long navy blue coat and a pair of black pants is customary but something more casual and less conspicuous will also find it's way in there on occasion. He does own several suits and other formal wear but chances are that they're hidden or lost somewhere in his home.
\-|-°-|-/
° J-ob || Carpenter, Underground Weapon Merchant
° R-eason for current profession || He's good at what he does and he needed the money
° D-istrict || Trade District
\-|-°-|-/
° P-ersonality ||
What most people see when they encounter Berwald is a very calm and serious individual. His exterior rarely changes which is why people assume this along with his no nonsense agenda. He isn't particularly fond of people who slack off or those who don't take anything seriously which is why his imposing seriousness can be a bit over the top. He is peaceable enough man though and often simply lets things take their own path without interference which makes him somewhat of a lacky with the few friends he has, usually following them around on their wanderings without a single complaint. After all why make waves when you can simply sit back and enjoy where life takes you.
For people who manage to break down Berwald's walls (a massive feat in itself) they find an incredibly accepting and loyal companion. He doesn't really care who, what, where or why you are who you are, all that matters is that you are officially one of his people. He would do nothing short of preforming miracles for those select few, even so far as to get arrested in their place. However, it is this devotion that can be dangerous for all parties. For Berwald it means he can be taken advantage of and used while for others the overprotective watch Berwald has over them can be suffocating and potentially harmful to others.
There is a lighter, less dangerous side of Berwald that people are astounded by: his childlike playfulness and mischievousness. Most, if not all, would never think the tall, scary monster would ever take part in games of tag or catch or even pranks and jokes. But he does and the transformation in his behavior is remarkable. He becomes less uptight and productive, opting for a more carefree and relaxed demeanor. Though he still doesn't smile (or attempt as it should be stated) the enjoyment is obvious in the way he behaves and carries himself. Be cautioned though. He only shows this side of himself top children for he believes they are less judgmental and more willing to accept others.
Almost as surprising if not more so is how affectionate Berwald is. Due to his outward appearance very few brave souls have ever tried to get close to him let alone actually touch him. Because of this Berwald is rather touch starved and coupled with the fact Berwald is a very tactile person it proves to be a very unfortunate situation. However as deprived as he is Berwald will never make the first move unless given permission or under particular circumstances. If someone takes the initiative and decides to touch him he'll be more willing to reciprocate and might even feel bold enough to give some small form of affection in return. The contact doesn't have to be big or extravagant it can be as simple as holding hands or even a hug, either of which is met with great enthusiasm.
Alas even with all these good traits (good being used lightly) Berwald had perhaps the most dangerous flaw: a monstrous temper. While Berwald can be credited with a rather long fuse, when he does finally snap it can only be described as the work of nightmares. Everything is a target and nothing is sacred. He lashes out at anyone and everyone with no thought as to the consequences. Things that normally hold great weight such as murder and manslaughter are but words passing through a mind set on bloodlust. Thankfully when his rages are over Berwald is back to his typical level headed self but with a burning sensation of guilt and remorse in his chest and a conscience not even all the holy men in the world could relieve. There has only been one person to bring him out of his anger before anything too drastic has occured, their face and name faded into a mere ghost in Berwald's mind.
With his height and build, Berwald could well be considered the picture of grace but he is quite the opposite. He is uncoordinated and clumsy in his own skin, often running into things and tripping over himself which is why he often looks battered and bruised. He is uncomfortable in his oversized body and is self conscious of himself to an exceptional degree. This worrying is only intensified by realization that people tend to stare at him. Eventually Berwald learns to relax around the scrutinizing gazes of passersby and becomes more confident in who he is and what he looks like.
° L-ikes ||
° D-islikes ||
° F-ears ||
° G-oals ||
\-|-°-|-/
° H-istory ||
If you were to ask Berwald about his past even if he wanted to answer you he wouldn't be able to. He does remember scattered things like birthdays, injuries and the occasional festival, perhaps even the wisp of a face every now and again but he truly remembers nothing besides that. He's not entirely sure why that is but after wasting almost his entire life trying to recall something, anything about himself he's given up and doesn't care anymore.
What he's forgotten is that he was orphaned almost from birth by parents far too young to be able to care for a child. Berwald was a normal youngster, intelligent and friendly from the start without a shred of violence or ill-will in him, until an accidental trauma to his head caused memory damage at the trever age of six. Problems recalling anything he previously knew arose and despite everyone's best attempts there was nothing to be done for him. So he lived on and did his best to cope though he forgot nearly everything shortly after relearning it. It was this frustration that led to his temper developing and acts of violence becoming frequent enough to cause perpetual fear of the quickly growing boy. As soon as he was old enough to fend for himself he was forced out of the place he had called home onto the streets.
So the volatile giant was set loser upon Atheros to seek his fortune and make his way in the world. And he did. With surprising ease and ingenuity. His reserved nature and unapproachable exterior made him an excellent match for the underground workings of the weapons business while his peaceable undertone made him unlikely to ever be suspected of such things. As such he became incredibly skilled in dealing and eventually earned enough money to build his own workshop to pursue a more enjoyable carpentry practice.
\-|-°-|-/
° R-oleplay example ||
Short painful breaths passed through a pair of pale lips as small puffs of frost billowed forth into the growing darkness. Sharp green-blue eyes flickered all around, looking for any movement. A wet tongue darted out to moisten a pair of chapped lips but only succeeded in making it worse.
Rising from his crouching position among the brush, Sweden hunched over and attempted a sprint to a large tree. Taking only a moment to assess possible footholds he scrambled up, his large size making it difficult. Grabbing a study branch with both hands, he hauled himself up, grunting quietly at the effort before straightening out against the branch.
Letting out a soft sigh of relief, Sweden tensed at the sounding of feet crunching through snow. Gazing down carefully from his perch, all of his senses were on overdrive. The rough needles of the tree digging into skin where they had gotten under clothing, the numbing pain of cold as it seeped through his warm winter clothing and stole away all his warmth... As if magic, a figure melted from the darkness with a small light in it's hand.
The figure was cloaked in thick clothing that masked it's gender yet allowed easy movement. It was small, much smaller than Sweden and under any other circumstances he wouldn't have thought twice about taking it on. After pausing and sweeping the light around slowly, obviously looking for something, someone, it began to move away and turned to walk another direction.
Relaxing his rigid position, Sweden let his head rest on the branch, arms wrapped around it in a bear hug. Relief washed over him in a welcome tide before dying instantly as an suckle subtle groan sounded. Easing himself up a slowly as possible, all hope fled from his body as a loud crack came below him and he plummeted towards the ground, slamming into branches on the way.
Finally his topple creased and he openned his eyes a crack to look out at the world. He saw nothing until blinding white flooded his eyes and caused him to give a low whine. After a moment the light moved to point away and Sweden risked opening his eyes. At first he saw only spots of light before they faded and revealed the figure from before, only this time upside down, his face lit up in triumph.
"I win, papa! But, uh, we should probably get mama to cut you down first so you don't look like Jerk England when he's mad."
Glancing up.. or down at himself he realized he was in fact caught hanging from a tree. Reaching up with his hands he made to undo the branches but fell back, numb fingers unable to grab anything. Huffing in resignation, he let his and dangle above his head as he waited for Peter to return with Finland.
Note t'self: no trees next t'me.
\-|-°-|-/
° U-sername || Hebisuna
° A-ge || 16
° T-ime zone || Central I believe
°W-hat is the secret phrase from the Rules? || Soyez Prêtres
