Willehelm Beilschmidt -- Germania

[germania]

Name: Willehelm Beilschmidt
Nicknames: Will
Age: Old
Date of Birth: October 10th
Gender: Male
Occupation: Architect
Heritage: White Tiger // Mother - (White Tiger), Father - (Lion)
Seed Rank: Heavy Seed
Birthplace: Berlin, Germany (Germania)

Appearance:

Willehelm is a towering, imposing figure. At 6'5", he's considered a giant by many. This height is balanced by his broad shoulders and lean limbs, not too thin but not overly muscled. He's a masculine man, even if his long hair does sometimes get him mistaken for a woman at a distance or from behind. His face isn't very expressive; Willehelm tends to be stoic, staring enigmatically with pale blue eyes that don't reveal much of his thoughts.

He tends to prefer clothes that are comfortable. Denim jeans are his favorite because they are good for whatever tasks he might need to do, or just for going out to get lost in the forest for a few hours. That's not to say that Willehelm doesn't know how to dress up. He's a professional when it comes to his work, dressing appropriately in business suits that flatter his towering body. He often makes it a point to arrive first to meeting so he can be seated first. This tends to put other people more at ease when he's not looming above them.

Distinguishing Features: Willehelm has a wild, primal look about him even when dressed in denim jeans or expensive suits. He wears his hair long, kept very clean, with small braids throughout. Despite the length of his hair, there is nothing feminine about him.
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Likes:

• Isolation // Having a place remote from others allows him a freedom that he'd be unable to find if entrenched in the rest of society. Willehelm has deliberately selected his home just out of the fringes of the city because it offers him more peace and quiet. Being immersed in the bustle of the city makes it hard to think.
  
• Riding // He loves riding upon horseback through the wilderness and open fields. It gives him a sense of exhiliration. His parents introduced him to this when he was younger, so Willehelm has had time to become an incredibly skilled rider.
  
• Wilderness // This is where he feels most at home. Overgrown forests, uncivilized spaces, these are the types of environments where Willehelm could happily live in. He spends much of his time wandering through these open spaces.
  
• Animals // He enjoys them more than he does zumans. Willehelm respects them. To him, it feels like animals have got things figured out better than zumanity.
  
• Chocolate // He has developed a sweet tooth that has made him vulnerable to the presence of similar sweets. He can be bribed with chocolate.
  
• Cleanliness // Willehelm prefers that things are neat and orderly. He keeps his house meticulously organized, despite having such limited possessions. One of his favorite daily pleasures is soaking in a bath or a shower twice a day.

Dislikes:

• Violence // He is incredibly capable of it, but he also views it as a waste of energy. Especially in situations where it seems stirred by childish or selfish reasons, like pride.
  
• Large bodies of water or rapidly flowing rivers are nothing that he is fond of.
  
• Excessive Affection // He has isolated himself for a reason. Having people in his personal space without an invitation creates unwelcome feelings inside Willehelm. He'd rather remain untouched.
  
• Animal Abuse // One direct path to tasting Willehelm's fist is to be caught mistreating an animal. Those who hunt for sport are likely to find themselves prey for the blond if he witnesses it.
  
• Organized Religion // While Willehelm respects that others have their own belief systems, he doesn't enjoy it when people try to force theirs upon him. Willehelm doesn't share his personal beliefs. He has them, but he keeps them as a private thing for his own knowledge.
  
• Children // Many people believe that children are the future of the world. In opposition to that, Willehelm feels that the majority of children just grow up to be the same idiot adults. He will be polite to a child, but does not warm to them. In fact, considering his size and unpolished demeanor, he's more concerned with breaking them than anything. The only exception to this is, of course, his own. They're exempt.

Interests/Hobbies:

• Architecture // Willehelm takes pride in his own work, yet he also appreciates the advances made by others. He keeps his office full framed photographs of iconic buildings, and makes it a point to visit structures when traveling just to appreciate the craft that went into creating their design.
  
• Exercise // He likes to maintain a fit physique. This is probably why he looks ageless, despite his years. He isn't obsessive about it like some people can get, yet it's important to him that he take time every morning to focus on keeping his physical body in the best shape he can. It also helps him remain strong, which is mighty handy when it comes to doing heavy-lifting projects around his house.
  
• Hiking // Being out in the wilderness is something that Willehelm enjoys. Combining that with exercise is even better. It's peaceful getting away from the city, and he tends to bring camping equipment along in case he stays out overnight.

Aspirations:

• More Great-Grandchildren // Seeing more generations being born gives him a feeling of peace. There's a comfort in knowing that his bloodline is continuing on despite the tragedies that have befallen it in the past. Willehelm would love to see more great-grandchildren being born in the future to provide some company for Julia.
  
• Conquering His Fear Of Love // Though he has become used to the idea of living on his own, it's still a lonely existence. If Will could find someone that put his fears regarding another loss to rest then he'd be happy. He knows that it's an issue that he's made for himself in his own head, and it would be ideal to let it go, but he can't manage it on his own.
  
• Continuing To Design // Willehelm still has plenty of concepts for architectural designs in his head. He wants to continue getting them realized for as long as he can, before age takes too much of a toll on him.

Fears:

• Falling in love // The issue for Willehelm is the fact that he lost his mate so early in his lifetime. He dreads falling in love with someone that might meet the same fate. This makes him push away the chance for love with anyone; familial love, romantic love, bonds of friendship. His self-imposed isolation is Willehelm's only defense against suffering through what he expects will be constant loss.
  
• Swimming // This is something that he has never learned how to do. Willehelm will avoid large bodies of water and crossing flowing rivers because he does not wish to test his luck with them. The only time that he will come near them is when he is fishing, and keeps a wide berth between his body and the water's edge. He is afraid of drowning to the point where it is a paranoia that keeps his mind preoccupied when too close to such locations.
  
• Family Tragedies // Willehelm might not be the most outwardly affectionate man but he does sincerely care about the fate of his family. He doesn't want his bloodline ending in tragedy since that seems to be a common trend that plagues him. Hearing of Gilbert's daughter has alleviated a little of this fear yet the spectre of tragedy is always there haunting him.

Personality: Willehelm is a quiet man. People could mistake this for shyness, yet nothing is further from the truth. His quiet is deliberate, part of his personal makeup. He operates on an internal level, thoughts and emotions tempered inward rather than in outward expression. While other people might wear their hearts on their sleeves, Willehelm's remains lodged firmly in the cage of his chest.

While he is a formidable man in appearance, it is difficult to tell what he might be thinking behind his commonly stoic face. Willehelm exudes quiet strength instead -- not just his physical capability, either. The strength of his character, of his convictions, are obvious without anyone having to ask. There's a glinting determination in Willehelm's eyes that has not been ebbed by time; merely fortified to greater permanence. He is not a man that needs to shout to be heard. He does not need to speak at all, much of the time. Willehelm is the sort of man that is followed by others because they feel the impression that he is meant to lead.

The inability of others to read into this imposing man lends him a sense of mystery, along with an unpredictable nature. He prefers to leave people wondering. It is more convenient to him just to let them speculate about him, so that he doesn't have to live up to any pre-conceived expectations. Willehelm's seeming total lack of caring when it comes to the opinions of others permits him a sense of liberation that is absent for those consumed by the perceptions of society.

When Willehelm's mask slips enough to reveal his emotional core, even that is underplayed. His anger is a subtle rage that explodes not in words but in violence. He has an iron grip upon his temper, thankfully, and it is difficult to get Willehelm angry. Only those who consistently seek to provoke his rage might succumb to it. Once he has expelled his anger through action, Willehelm does not hang on to that emotion. He doesn't hold grudges, or bitterness. Considering the fact that those who make him enraged rarely live through the experience he hasn't found much use for carrying around any lingering negative emotion.

Willehelm is a private person. He enjoys his space. This means that he cares little for affection from others. If he wants physical contact then he will seek a bedmate of his own accord to satisfy that need. Beyond that, the man is more content when people honor his personal space. Those who are too 'touchy-feely', or fail to back off when he requests it, are quickly dismissed from his interest along with his patience. Willehelm is too old to play the games of children in this manner; he'll just walk away or ignore you. Any further efforts to connect with him beyond this point are as wasted as shouting at a wall in the hopes that it might answer back. Considering the fact that Willehelm is an older man, it is easy for him to recognize the difference between people worth his interest and those who are doomed to insignificance. Insignificant people are a waste of his time.

His motivations seem simplistic, along with the subtleties of his demeanor. If Willehelm is hungry, he eats. If tired, he will sleep. If he desires wine, or sex, or entertainment, he'll just seek it out. For someone that has lived such a long time, Willehelm doesn't adhere himself to the chains of having longterm goals. There is no 'destination' that he is headed towards. He lives solely in the present, to handle things as they come to him, rather than looking to the future. This saves him from the complications that burden others.

Family:

• Father - Lion(Deceased)
  
• Mother - Tiger(Deceased)
  
• Elsa - Wife(Dog Breed; Deceased)
  
• Son - (Dog Breed)
  
• Gilbert Beilschmidt -- Grandson (German Shepard)
  
• Ludwig Beilschmidt -- Grandson

Brief History:

Born as the only child to his parents, Willehelm was intended to be arranged into a marriage with a fellow family of Heavy Seed tigers. Being a stubborn individual, he humored his parents throughout his childhood while also developing a childhood sweetheart. Elsa was a girl that he had much in common with. Most of his time outside of the house and schooling was spent roaming around the family estate with her, climbing trees and exploring the forest. It didn't occur to him that he should be bothered by the fact that Elsa was a dog breed, or that he needed to be more interested in finding a cat breed that would compliment his heavy seed genetics.

When it came time for Willehelm to marry his intended betrothed, he opted instead to run away with Elsa. They eloped quickly, with Willehelm taking the risk of being disowned by his family in order to be happy with the one he truly wanted to spend his life with. His father was immensely displeased by Willehelm's decision and the two did not speak much in their lives after that, though he grudgingly continued to support him in his education -- hoping that perhaps after a temporary dalliance with a dog breed, Willehelm might come to his senses and return to reclaim his better prospect.

Willehelm and Elsa tried often to have a family of their own. There were a few unsuccessful attempts that never reached term; those failed pregnancies taking a toll on Elsa. When they were finally blessed with a boy -- a dog breed, and not the tiger they'd been hoping for -- Elsa's body gave out on her shortly after the birth, and she passed away. Willehelm was devastated by the loss of her. She'd been such a huge part of his life that the sudden absence left a void. He returned to his family estate to see that his son would be raised in a stable environment, and turned himself away into his work instead. The loss of Elsa left him distant to those around him, including his son.

Three years later, both of his parents were killed in an airplane crash. The cycle of grief started anew, Willehelm was now head of the Beilschmidt family, and spent a dark time afterwards struggling with the personal demons of anger and alcoholism. He sent his son off to school privately to keep the young man isolated away from seeing him in this state, working through it on his own. When his son wrote home to inform Willehelm that he'd married a young woman, Will's happiness for him was diminished by his own bitterness. He succeeded in his battle against his taste for the bottle. He turned his focus instead back upon his work, this time with more success, and began to establish himself as an architect with talent.

His son kept him up to date on the developments of his family, announcing down the road that Willehelm was a grandfather. Not to one, but to two boys. This was a blessing in abundance. Though Willehelm could not bring himself to break his isolation enough to have much direct contact with any of them, he made sure to forward gifts to his grandsons, wrote letters, and even set aside trust funds for them to use for their education. He was generous because he could not be generous with them emotionally, hoping that his gifts would be a satisfactory substitute for his distance.

Willehelm recently moved to France to continue his practice on a few local projects. He has discovered that the environment here is more peaceful, since the quieter countryside has a carefree charm to it that he was lacking back in his empty family estate. His home is on the fringes of a vineyard just outside of the city with a lovely view through the window of his office, and Willehelm spends much of his time just gazing outside, letting the sunshine chase away that lingering inner darkness little by little.

OOC

Name/Alias; Hat
Age; 32
Favorite Pairings; Open
Do you want to be Cbox, Thread, or Both?: Both
Did you read the rules?

I know that you will
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?
Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful?

"How much longer do you intend for this to go on?"

Gaul's voice again, spoken from across the dying embers of the fire they had built. Germania had been thankful for the brief reprieve its heat had given when the night proved far colder than either of them had anticipated. He had misjudged the cruelty of the frosts that swept upon their territory from Aestii's frigid lands. Now, in the fading light of that fire and with Gaul's bedroll too far to share warmth with (Though Gaul had been keen to offer him the warmth of his body, make no mistake. And Germania, for the sake of peace and prediction of Gaul's hands wandering in the night, had refused.), the blond barbarian shifted slightly due to a stone that was prodding at his back while trying to forget about the chill. "What do you mean?"

Germania's head turned just enough to see Gaul's figure press up, too dark to make out aside from a blackened outline. There was no moon tonight to see by. He could only catch an occasional glint of the other man's eyes in the dying light. "Once again we retreat here from the Roman when we should be marching against him. You know that the pair of us are capable enough to crush him without opposition. So why are we up here lounging in the bitter cold? At least let us go seek out Aestii's home for lodging."

"You are welcomed to travel on," Germania pointed out to his current traveling companion, "and I am sure that Aestii will be pleased with the company. You cannot fathom how often he complains to me that no one makes the trip to visit him in the time of winter. Having Gaul there to warm his bed might spare me another season of misery." He turned over, broad shoulders bent as the barbarian curved onto his side. Out in the open like this, Germania was always careful about how he chose to sleep. It was important for him to keep his weapon exposed and a hand free to reach for it at a moment's notice. Especially when Roman troops were camped so near.

Gaul mused over the idea. The man was never one that refused partners to sate his sexual appetites with. Germania feared that whatever descendant Gaul passed his lineage to would inherit that capacity for lust. "I just don't think that you can allow things to continue this way. If anyone can put a stop to his ambitions, Germania, it will be you. How long will it be, and how much more will he be permitted to do before you take action? The burden of his actions will be yours just as his." Gaul said to him, the final stretch of his words distorted by a yawn as the other man curled further into the comfort of his bedroll to sleep.

It did not take long for Gaul to find enough peace to rest. Germania continued to lie there in silence, wide awake as he listened until the steady strains of Gaul's snoring indicated that his companion was sound asleep. The barbarian pushed back his bedroll and rose out of its warm embrace. He silently crept from their camp to seek out the Roman one that was stationed a mere mile away. With no apparent threat, the soldiers that were present had lapsed into complacency, and even the posted guards were too occupied with playing a betting game between them to catch a glimpse of the blond that slipped silently into the rear of their leader's tent.

Inside, he found Rome. And Rome's female bed partner. And his male bed partner. Even camping out in the wilderness, the Roman Empire still found opportunity to find time to entertain company. Germania shook his head along with shaking off the unfortunate twist in his chest that happened whenever he came upon Rome like this; wrapped in an embrace of steadily rotating faces. He brought a chair over near the head of the Roman's cot -- a luxury that men like Germania would never think to indulge bringing into a battle, but Rome seemed incapable of being without.

The blond sat down in that chair, hearing it creak softly under his bulk. He sat with thighs parted and elbows braced, hands clasped loosely together in front of him as he studied Rome's sleeping face from his vantage point. Gaul's words were still fresh in his mind. Who else was capable of putting an end to the Roman's ambitions? This empire that had built itself through warfare and slaughter, expanding ever onward to consume those incapable of preventing all eradication of a different identity? Germania had heard the tales from Greece, of Romans laying waste to temples of worshipped gods that did not suit Roman beliefs.

And Germania, with his wild tribes and wilder lands, how much had he sacrificed to this empire? Why had he allowed it to go this far? His pale blue eyes searched Rome's face thoroughly. This face that had once been his friend and constant -- if sometimes unwanted -- companion. A creature like himself that used to be content with simplicity; good wine, a willing woman, perhaps an occasional battle to brag about. A man that Germania had admired. That he had loved. Who was this unrecognized stranger that wore the face of his beloved?

He sighed faintly. Dropping his elbows from his knees, Germania bent forward over the Roman's head. With the sated exhaustion on the other man's slumbering face, he trusted that he'd be able to whisper to the man without waking Rome up. Germania touched his lips to the other man's forehead, speaking those whispers against the skin. "You are reaching too far. When you stretch for the stars too perilously, there can be nothing except a fall. I will not end you this night, my friend, though bringing your death here in this bed would be all too easy. I'll be there, though, when your straining grip is short of its destination, and I will be there to make certain that you fall."

With that promise spoken, Germania pushed up out of his chair. He slipped back out of the tent to prowl back through the frigid night to where he had left Gaul and his bedroll. Germania lowered back into that space to pull the weight of blankets back over his body. But even when dawn was breaking over the horizon, he was still unable to sleep, and merely stared up at the silent sky.

[Carr]