Post by strommen on Aug 20, 2011 3:23:59 GMT -7
AÐALSTEIN VIGLEIK STROMMEN
My ship has sailed from northern shores,
the dragon star to light my way.
I am reborn, to live again,
to forge my soul into a god.
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I AM BEYOND GOD
[/font]I AM HUMAN
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Full Name: Ađalstein Vigleik Strommen
Nickname(s): Aðal, Stein or Strommen
Gender: Male.
Age: thirty
Birthdate: February 23, 1981
Sexuality: Heterosexual… Mostly.
Reincarnate: Yes
I am: Erik the Red
Played By: Alexander Skarsgård
Grade: Teacher (world history, religion history, football coach)
Boarding: No
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OUR SHINING FUTURE
[/font]IN REVOLT
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Height: 6’ 4”
Weight: 220lbs
Eye Color: Grey-blue
Hair Color: Medium-dark blonde
Build: Muscular
Scars: Several, and chances are he doesn’t remember exactly how he got a lot of them. He can’t tell you where they all are exactly either, only that he has a lot and most are from being a rough sort of boy.
Piercings/Tattoos: Right Wrist – Left Wrist – Upper Back
Personal Style:
Ađal’s sense of style is ultimately rough and extremely casual. He’s the sort of guy that will wear a pair of jeans, a t-shit and a suit jacket to a wedding. Despite his age and his status as a teacher, he has a wardrobe that any teenager would want. It’s full of band shirts from concerts all over the globe as well as almost as many funny and/or inappropriate ones that he often finds the principal of the school “talking with him” over. His jeans are usually dark in color and extremely worn from outdoor work and general use. He also is quite fond of leather jackets, usually being seen in one all seasons of the year.
When it comes to accessories, Ađalstein is still quite rough. They’re almost always made of metal or natural materials- again, the leather comes into play. His spirituality is something that’s quite important to him, so he’s often seen with rings and necklaces adorned with Norse symbols. Ađal will also never, ever wear anything but leather boots. If you somehow manage to wrestle him into a suit, you’ll never be able to get him to give up those boots.
Appearance:
click for his accent~!
Ađalstein is enormous. He stands at six-foot-four and is two hundred twenty-five pounds of almost nothing more than muscle, bone and the necessary insides. This state of health is something that he prides himself on, especially since he’s in the mindset that, barring death by decapitation or some other violence associated with pillaging, almost no one survived past their fifties. At thirty, he’s going quite strong, though he’s borderline “middle-aged”. His stomach is a swoon-inducing washboard. It would be, anyway. Ađal is rarely seen without a shirt, despite the fact that he’s a bit of a ladies’ man and is at least reasonably confident about his looks. Coming from the Faroe Islands, he never got a lot of sun in his life and he certainly has no intention of starting now. His skin is a creamy white with a flawless texture that he can attribute to his strict die- aside from the scars, at least.
Though the blonde hair was something that he found extremely unsettling, Ađalstein now seems to be alright with it. He wears it short, usually, and keeps it carefully combed back from those storm-blue colored eyes. He has a strong jaw that he doesn’t often shave. In fact, Strommen often comes to class looking as though he’s just woken up from a week-long party. During certain times of the year- like Spring Break- that’s actually the case.
HOPE AND HORROR
[/font]MIXED IN BLOOD[/size][/center]
Likes: sailing - fencing - boxing - scones - whales - the color blue - nature - teaching students who don't accept everything they hear as fact - adventure - exploration - the cold - thunderstorms - seafood
Dislikes: idiots - incompetence - cities - cars - being stuck in one place for long amounts of time - spiders - hot weather - mistreatment of animals - students who can't stuck for themselves - cats - popcorn
Dreams:to experience what it's like to be with another manTO FORGET.
Fears: nightmares - mental/physical deterioration - spiders
Habits/Hobbies: runs a hand through his hair when he's nervous - smokes - bites his nails / sailing - boxing - fencing - carving
Secret(s): The fact that he's attracted to other men in this new body, the regret he feels for some of the things he's done.
Personality:
SUPERFICIALLY he’s still very much a Viking: rough, loud and vulgar. He curses openly, even in class, and he doesn’t care if his students do the same, and though that’s partly the reason that his students love him, his temper is enough to make some hate him. He’s strict, and when his rules and orders aren’t followed, he yells. Loudly, and a lot- when he switches to a language other than English, you know he’s furious. He’s also a brawler, but he tries to keep that to his sports hobbies. Other than that, though, he’s a relaxed sort of guy with a sense of humor that’s very strong, even if a little morbid or cynical. Ađalstein is also a fan of partying. He is more likely to join his students at an event with alcohol than he is to turn them in for illegal consumption. A few years ago, he did in fact buy liquor for that exact purpose. As long as he has good food good drink and bad women, he finds it easy to be in a good mood.
Ađal is a very intense person. It’s not that he’s particularly intelligent, certainly not genius-level anyway. However, when he focuses all of his attention on a person, the look in his eyes is almost overwhelming; like he’s looking into every crevice of your mind and body. This, of course, comes from a deep-rooted sense of suspicion that comes easily with someone whose entire nation was given permission to kill him.
He’s also a natural-born leader. Though he doesn’t realize it, Ađalstein is very good at getting people to follow him and flock to him. He assumes command when no one else does; even when there is already someone in place- he can’t help it. This is good as a teacher and as a coach, but it can sometimes make his social life difficult, particularly in conversation with strangers or co-workers.
ONCE YOU KNOW HIM you can add on the fact that you know he’s a very haunted man. Though he doesn’t say what specifically haunts him for fear of being found out as a reincarnate, Ađal is deeply bothered by what he did in his past life. Well, some of it. He can be broody, and is usually particularly snappy and violent when he’s caught up in these spells of guilt. He withdraws from the world and will ignore any and all attempts to contact him until he feels comfortable in his own skin again- something that he’s struggled with his whole life. What is Ađalstein and what is Erik the Red? That question bothers him, and his dark periods are often characterized by him asking himself that question a lot.
Also, if you know him well enough for him to deem you a friend, you will have a formidable force on your side. Ađalstein will fight to the death for something that he loves- and he’s done so before. If he’s close to you, there won’t be anyone who gets off scot-free for hurting you. In fact, if it’s bad enough, chances are they’ll wind up either hospitalized or dumped in the woods somewhere for the animals to pick at. Conversely, if you know him well enough to be his enemy he will do everything in his power to make your life hell. If you’re a student, there’s no way to make him happy enough to give you an A. If it’s outside of school, he’ll probably repeatedly kick your ass. It depends entirely on the circumstances where you became his enemy.
PRIVATELY Ađal is quite spiritual. He follows the religion he did in his former life- meaning Norse Polytheism/Paganism. You’ll never hear him refer to his religion or any other as “mythology”, and if you insult his or anyone else’s religion, you’ll quickly anger him. Though he doesn’t participate in war these days, he does still highly value honor and heroism, something that isn’t usually found among men in this day and age. (Well, he thought that before meeting some of the other reincarnates here.) He will stick up for the honor of others, especially women, whenever the opportunity arises. Unless they’re his enemy, in which case he’ll join right in with the ridicule. He values respect for the old and the wise and this means he’s angered most when he comes across students who are disrespectful of him or other adults. That being said, Ađalstein has a problem following the orders of his superiors and he’s very stubborn when he’s got his mind set on something.
He is also an explorer at heart. He often disappears into the woods for hours and occasionally weeks at a time with no cell phone. He takes no guides and no maps. His former life means that he knows more tricks than even the most avid survivalist of this day and age, and there has never been a wilderness situation he couldn’t get himself out of alone. He’s adventurous and will try anything once, some things twice if it’s been a while. Ađalstein keeps his explorer’s nature mostly to himself though, for fear that it arouse suspicion.
PRETTY BOY, PRETTY GIRL
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Mother: Helena Strommen, 55, choir director
Father: Dagbjartur Strommen, deceased
Siblings:
Other:
Pets: A two-year-old Caucasian Ovcharka named Egil.
Hometown: Øravíkarlíð, Suðuroy, Faroe Islands.
History:
HIS CHILDHOOD was anything but normal. He was born in the Faroe Islands to Dagbjartur and Helena Strommen. His mother was a choir director from Iceland, though her father was Faroese and his father was a big-shot lawyer from Sweden, giving Ađalstein a dual citizenship between the two nations. He could speak ancient Norse and ancient Swedish almost at birth and would often go into fits of these languages, much to the dismay of his devoutly Christian family. They assumed their little boy was speaking in tongues through the devil and they had him exorcized. This, of course, didn’t stop their child’s fits. They learned to cope with it at his mother’s wishes, though his father was never happy about it.
Luckily, his father was often off on business, making the money it took to maintain their life as the wealthiest family on the Islands. This took down the conflicts that arose behind closed doors, the ones that kept Ađal up late at night, listening to his “parents” scream at each other over whether or not their boy was possessed by a demon. The Viking in him resented that, resented that they would dare suggest that he was something evil, when so many Christians killed his people for the simple fact of religion. The young man had no love for these strangers that hated him so much, because they weren’t his parents. At least, not in the mind of a boy who remembered the long oversea trek from Norway to Iceland after his father murdered a man.
When he was nine, Ađal’s family moved to Sweden, where he had to learn the modern version of the dead language he knew so well. This was a bit difficult at first, but he was soon at least attempting to socialize with the other children. The family lived close to a church and would often drag the violently kicking and screaming boy along with them, though he tore up the house and the car as well as his “parents” on the way. Violence burgeoned early on in him, and he was frequently fighting with other students in school or his brothers. Ađal was ten when his father died and shortly after that he was sent to live with his grandmother due to the fact that his mother couldn’t handle the fact that he looked so much like his father.
HIS ADOLESENCE was a little easier. Ađalstein’s grandmother had been an archaeologist before she retired and she would thrill him with stories from Viking explorations and the old Norse sagas- of which Erik the Red was a rather prominent figure. He would often correct her, though, informing the “expert” that she was wrong. That the several men he killed he didn’t over slaves, providing only the sort of details that a man who had been there (or a boy with an active imagination) would know. She, of course, not knowing just how accurate her grandson was, waved this off as him being creative. In this way, he learned not to speak about the memories and nightmares that he had, and especially not about how he stayed up so late crying over them. Maybe, like she said, he was only imagining.
His grandfather had told him of the fact that Paganism was on a rise. Young Ađalstein, to whom this sounded extremely appealing, was soon accompanying his grandfather to Pagan meetings. Again, Ađal corrected these men on their beliefs. His knowledge was far more extensive than any of theirs, to the point that they became uncomfortable with how much the young man knew. Despite that, they elected him leader of their particular gathering when he was thirteen.
At fourteen, Ađal received his letter from Riverdale, and he convinced his grandparents to travel with him outside the country. He came here, wary of the children and of the crowded environment that he found himself in. He’d never been to a city as large as this, having lived most of his life in tiny fishing villages, and the concrete and the noise were soon driving him made and making him ache for home. Nonetheless, he did enjoy this school, at least until his World History class, freshman year, when they were speaking of the Vikings and their adventures. Ađalstein wasn’t at all hesitant to correct all his teachers, who of course took offense to this. He was scooped up by the RSOR soon after arriving at Riverdale. It comforted him greatly to know that he wasn’t alone, and that there were a few other children that had nightmares as horrible as his. Due to his ability to lead, Ađalstein was elected onto the Leader’s Panel during his sophomore year, where he happily held a seat until his graduation.
ADULTHOOD after leaving Riverdale High, Ađalstein Strommen travelled to Greenland, then his native Islands, then Sweden, where he finally pursued a degree in history and theology. He stayed in touch with the RSOR alumni, at least those that he could get along with. He was briefly married and quickly divorced, the union bearing no children. Afterward, he travelled to Africa and spent six months there safari hunting before returning to England and getting a degree in education.
He still wasn’t ready to settle down, though. Ađalstein trekked Siberia, and then South America, letting his explorer’s spirit run rampant and never staying anywhere long enough that he might give himself away with it. At twenty-seven, he finally returned to the states and took up a job as a teacher at the high school that he loved so much and made his home for five years. (Yes, he was a super senior. That’s due to a year-long vacation he took to India with his grandparents.
In early August of the summer of 2011, Ađalstein’s grandmother died. That grief has shaken him immensely, and he has a trip to the Faroe Islands scheduled for the beginning of this school year to attend the funeral of the woman who was closest to him. He doesn’t speak to his “mother” anymore and out of his siblings, he’s only in touch with his sister Ester anymore.
I AM WHO I AM
[/font]WHO AM I?[/size][/center]
Name/Alias: Tanngrisnir
Other Characters: None~
Age: Old.. Enough? Lol, kidding. Seventeen.
Time Zone: AKST.
Post Sample:“Are you sure you won’t come visit your father?” the voice on the other end of the line asked. Mr. Ljungdahl’s doctor was always trying to get the son to visit, no matter their awful history together. Despite all of the young Swede’s protests, the doctor insisted upon a bi-yearly visit. It wasn’t as if they were short on money for the plane tickets, after all. Petr, though, was growing quite weary of all this pestering. No, he didn’t want to see the man that had tried to kill him. He was content to leave his father in that mental institution until the day that he died.
“I’m quite sure,” he replied, sighing and leaning back in his office chair. His grey-blue eyes moved up to the clock on the wall and he let a little smile on his face. “I would really love to chat, but I’m working tonight. Send Fader my regards.” Speaking of his father always made Petr uncomfortable and tense. He chewed on his lip as the doctor continued to object and then he set the phone in the cradle with a gentle click while the man was speaking. He was almost never that rude, but he really did have to get going and the man wouldn’t let him say goodbye.
As he stood and went to his bedroom, Petr texted Kimie and Aurelie. Normally, he would pick them up, but this time he had to be there a bit early for the sake of setting up. He had, however, hired limousines to pick up the girls, hoping that would suffice and they wouldn’t be offended. Aurelie probably understood- this wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to come to an event for the sake of needing someone to help him with equipment. Kimie, though, she might not. Petr wasn’t sure how much of a gentleman she expected her dates to be- but this wasn’t a date. He had, in fact, told her that she didn’t have to go. But with Olivander being there… Kimie had decided that her friend would need someone to look after him. That was probably true, but Petr felt bad nonetheless for not picking her up as a proper gentleman should.
He showered and dressed, though it took a moment to find the particular outfit. A moment meaning about a half an hour. Petr’s mother had raised him to be critical of his appearance, and he was to this day. With the knowledge of a potential—in fact probable—fight, he adorned himself with all sorts of jewelry all of which was covered in runes and symbols for strength, courage, protection, good health and all manner of things. This calmed his nerves and let his body relax, his heartbeat evening out and coming to a level where it didn’t cause him pain. He took a couple more of those pills, and gathered the medicine he would need for the night: two more little orange pills, a green one and three white pain meds, as well as a syringe full of a yellowish medicine that kept his heart from feeling tense all night. It would be quite a task to take his meds without anyone noticing, but Petr was quite sure that he could manage. After all, he had been doing so since he was old enough to know what “medicine” meant.
Petr’s instruments lay by the front door, and these he slid into the passenger seat of his Astom Martin One-77. There would be drummers and guitarists at the party, and he had rehearsed with them quite a few times already. This was.. Far larger than any other event he’d played. Excitement bubbled somewhere in his stomach- butterflies. Something he never got. It was a pleasant feeling, though, to know that he could still have a bit of stage fright. Petr grinned, threw the car into gear and pulled out of the lot. Perhaps tonight wouldn’t be as awful as Olivander Wilde had tried to make the rest of his life. In fact, the young Swede was almost positive now that this party would be fun.
He slipped the strap of case over his shoulder and nudged the door to his car shut. Petr had parked across the way from the docks, in a guarded parking garage. He’d put almost three million into this car, and he didn’t want to lose it to thieves or scoundrels. He darted across the street, and found Miss Cerise Wilde. “Excuse me,” Petr said, his eyes apologetic in interrupting her conversation with her brother, “I don’t mean to be a bother, but can you point me to where the band’s setting up?” he asked. The melodic nature of his voice came through when he spoke, as did his accent. His tone, too, was as apologetic as his eyes, and there was a little nervous smile on his lips.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
application format by dante/dante in ze pot. lyrics from 'wreak havoc' by angelspit. nothing will chase you down if you remove the credits, but i'd rather you not. that is all.
