Post by Ludwig Beilschmidt on May 29, 2011 15:54:51 GMT -5
[/li][li] Schnitzel
Ludwig Beilschmidt
name: Ludwig Beilschmidt
origination: Berlin, Germany
age: 16
grade: Sophomore
social class: Royalty
positive traits:
- Intelligent, he's definitely book smart.
- Organized, everyday has a to-do list, but he can pencil you in next week.
- Hard-working, he will get the job done, and he will do it well.
- Honest, he's just not the lying type.
- Strong, you do not wanna mess with angry!Ludwig.
negative traits:
- Quick Tempered : Pissing him off is easy and a bad idea.
- Easily Flustered : He blushes so easily, and hates himself for it.
- Stubborn : Good luck trying to change his mind.
- Pessimistic : He believes the world hates him.
- Control Freak : He wants everything he does done his way.
- Low self-esteem : He isn't very good at believing in himself.
likes:
[li] Dogs
[/li][li] Beer
[/li][li] Exercise, gotta work off all that German food somehow.
[/li][li] Quiet time
[/li][li] Science
dislikes:
- Lateness
- Laziness
- Shrill voices
- Bad grammar
- Talking about his feelings
history:
Ludwig grew up in an old aristocratic German/Prussian family. His parents were strict, but rarely cruel, and did not believe in idleness, choosing to work hard to ensure their wealth and status would pass on to Ludwig and his sibling(s). Though he has spent his life among the wealthy, his parents themselves are not overly fond of the aristocratic lifestyle and have tried to find a balance between a normal life and the life of the wealthy, choosing, for example, to live in an ordinary, albeit expensive, house rather than the mansion Ludwig's ancestors were brought up in.
Unfortunately for Ludwig, compromises to this 'normal' life still had to be made. His other relatives would've disowned his parents had they sent even one of their children to an "ordinary" school, and he's spent his education in exclusive school after exclusive school, struggling to fit in with his rich peers, though he is wealthy and blue-blooded enough to be their equal. While many of his classmates were furious to discover they'd be learning alongside commoners, Ludwig was secretly relieved, hoping that perhaps among 'ordinary' students he might even find a few friends.
sample post:
[[OOC: My Ludwig in this post is a police officer with PTSD. Just...so you know. Apologies for the darkness.]]
Click. Click. Click. The soft, barely-there sound of his shoes as he walked up the staircase, gun slipped under his trenchcoat sleeve just in case. His steps were quick and careful, and followed by his partner. They approached the third floor tenement, and Ludwig went over the briefing once more in his head.
Decent neighborhood, not the sort of place that usually has any trouble. Neighbors tried to get in, but the door is blocked. Complaint stems from a...smell. Ludwig pressed his body into the door, gauging the amount of force needed to get in. He steadied himself and, putting all the weight into his side, slammed into the door, once, twice, three times, the briefest of smiles flickering on his face when it (and whatever had been blocking it) collapsed. Keeping his finger on the trigger of his gun, he stepped over the wreckage, about to call out when something struck him.
There was nothing to describe the scent of rotting corpses, it was simply beyond comprehension. The smell. Mien Gott, he hadn't smelled that since...
He was no longer in the room. Somewhere, in the muffled background of his mind, he could hear the sound of his partner vomiting and gasping for air at the sight before them. But Ludwig was not there. He was back in the war, storming through the nearest village, holding back the tears as the cries of German children, dying or starving or what, rung in his ears, pleading for mercy in their- his native tongue. The glassy eyes of old men, young mothers, and the infirm stared back at him, death revealing all to them. He could not bear to look.
It was the smell that had dragged him back to those dark corners, but it was the smell that brought him back as well. With one shaking, paper-white hand, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to his partner.
"Clean yourself," he said simply, and turned back to the matter of the bodies.
Click. Click. Click. The soft, barely-there sound of his shoes as he walked up the staircase, gun slipped under his trenchcoat sleeve just in case. His steps were quick and careful, and followed by his partner. They approached the third floor tenement, and Ludwig went over the briefing once more in his head.
Decent neighborhood, not the sort of place that usually has any trouble. Neighbors tried to get in, but the door is blocked. Complaint stems from a...smell. Ludwig pressed his body into the door, gauging the amount of force needed to get in. He steadied himself and, putting all the weight into his side, slammed into the door, once, twice, three times, the briefest of smiles flickering on his face when it (and whatever had been blocking it) collapsed. Keeping his finger on the trigger of his gun, he stepped over the wreckage, about to call out when something struck him.
There was nothing to describe the scent of rotting corpses, it was simply beyond comprehension. The smell. Mien Gott, he hadn't smelled that since...
He was no longer in the room. Somewhere, in the muffled background of his mind, he could hear the sound of his partner vomiting and gasping for air at the sight before them. But Ludwig was not there. He was back in the war, storming through the nearest village, holding back the tears as the cries of German children, dying or starving or what, rung in his ears, pleading for mercy in their- his native tongue. The glassy eyes of old men, young mothers, and the infirm stared back at him, death revealing all to them. He could not bear to look.
It was the smell that had dragged him back to those dark corners, but it was the smell that brought him back as well. With one shaking, paper-white hand, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to his partner.
"Clean yourself," he said simply, and turned back to the matter of the bodies.
Hi my name is Emma and i'm 18 years old! I have been roleplaying since 2003 and I can't wait to join this roleplay! I also play (on other sites) Sweden, Netherlands, and a Faroe Islands OC and I will try to be awesomely active here. Oh! And the simplicity of your app fills me with unmitigated joy !
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