Gilbert Beilschmidt /ACPTD/

ACCEPTED


†N a m e: Gilbert Beilschmidt

†A g e: Twenty-Two.

†B i r t h p l a c e: East Germany.

†P o w e r: Mover.

†H e i g h t: Five foot eleven inches.

†W e i g h t: One hundred and thirty two pounds.

†D i v i s i o n: He is against the Division and all that it stands for; which to him is shit.

†A p p e a r a n c e: Gilbert wears a wide array of clothes, but prefers comfortable ones over flashy ones. He likes to wear shirts that have designs on them. His eyes are naturally red, though people think he wears contacts; though they do change hue to correspond with how he's feeling (More about this can be found in 'Other').

†P e r s o n a l i t y: Gilbert's personality is a sticky one. He proclaims that he is cool, and how no one can rival him in being awesome. That might as well be his personal quote. He tends to repeat of over and over again until he is thoroughly satisfied. The holds up the visage of wanted to remain alone, but can often be found watching couples interact in public (no, this does not categorize him as creeper!), though he'd never tell you otherwise. He gives the excuse of wanting to get strong, to let nothing falter his set life-style; which isn't much except living from place to place, not knowing where he wants to stay. He still holds a grudge against Division for what they did to his father, and won't stop until he gets his false sense of justice.

He can be rash, loud, and often obnoxious to be around at times, and tries to keep a tough air around him. Gilbert isn't afraid to speak his mind. Believe it or not, he is also very loyal to those he considers his friend.

†H i s t o r y: Gilbert was orphaned when he was young, around the age of 10. His father was killed by the Division (though they state otherwise), and his younger brother was supposedly taken away by them; but he could be wrong. He had managed to get away before the German Division did a clean sweep of the area.

Soon after he was placed into an adoption agency, he was adopted by a family. Every now and then he would use his powers for simple things, but told himself he wouldn't use his powers.

Four years later he returned from school one day to find that his foster family had been killed. Not that long after he found out that his foster father was a shadow, and had been shadowing him. It had been Division again.

He didn't go back to the agency, instead he decided to live on his own; he didn't want anyone else close to him to die by the hands of Division.

So he grew up on the streets, managing to scrounge up the money. He had to get out of Germany. Gilbert moved to Hong Kong. Why? Simple. There were too many people. He could blend in and almost not worry about the feeling of someone watching him creep up the back of his neck.

The next seven years included small street gamblings. Gilbert knew he could do this. All he had to do was use his powers, that were getting rusty due to years of barely using his them, to manipulate the dice, and always land them on the sides that he needed.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the life of Gilbert Beilschmidt.

†R P S a m p l e: Gilbert walked along the construction site of an old abandoned building. Day was shifting to night; the mixtures of orange, purple, and pink turning dark in the sky as the sun began to set. Red hues peering through the night as the new moon reflected off his snowy hair. Hands were tucked deep into pockets. Damnit, it was getting cold again. The albino muttered words under his breath as he wandered the area aimlessly.

He had nothing better to do, so why not just walk around a construction site in the middle of the night? His form moved to the edge of the area now, eyes looking around cautiously. ... It was too quiet. Too quiet for Hong Kong. Even though this was a construction site, and not that far from the city, people were usually still littering the area.

No point in standing around anymore right? He had quite the bundle of winnings in his back pocket and food was starting to sound good right about now. He would have started walking, but that was when he was suddenly surrounded. By what appeared to be street thugs. Gilbert couldn't help but let a grin grace his lips. He knew how they were.

"What's up," he teased, hands still stuffed in his pockets.

"You know what we want, Beilschmidt." One of the men said, pulling out a gun. "Give us our money back, you cheating slag!"

Gilbert couldn't help but chuckle even though seeing the gun jostled him some. "Cheatin' slag? Are you trying to imply that I cheated? I won fair a square!" The man simply cocked the gun, causing Gilbert to ease back some. Damnit, this wasn't going to end good.

"We know you cheated, freak," Oooh, that stung a little. "You used that little power of yours, and I'm going to ensure that you don't use it ever again." Before Gilbert had the chance to move, the thug fired the gun at him.

Gilbert whipped his hands out of his pockets. Damnit, he was going to get shot wasn't he? But as he put his hands up some, there was a crackling sound and no sound of a bullet piercing skin.

Everyone stared in disbelief. Gilbert had produced a small shield, reflecting the bullet and sending it off in an unknown direction. He figured where it hit when he heard a shout and someone fall over.

"Ha, what now!? Wanna try shooting me again?" He bite at the others. Though he was being stupid since he wasn't sure if he could do what he just did again.

Moments later he was alone once more, a victorious laugh coming from him. Damn this was great, he deserved a beer!

†O t h e r: As said in appearance, Gilbert's red eyes change hue, considering his feelings. It's nothing farfetched, and nothing mystical. Just, when he's angry, or hurt, his eyes darken a bit, and when he's overly excited -coughcough- they lighten.

He has a pet chick that he found recently. It's usually either perched on his shoulder, or hanging out on his head.