Ansigar Hartwig [Germania]

[Ansigar Hartwig]

Country of Origin:
Germany

Name:
Ansigar Hartwig

Gender:
Male

Height:
6’0

Weight:
172 lbs

Age:
36

Year:
N/A; History teacher

Clubs:
N/A

Appearance:

Summer Casual
Winter Casual

Personality:
When one first meets Ansigar, the experience can be altogether unpleasant, awkward, or odd, depending on the way he is feeling that day. He is a man of few words and even fewer discernable emotions. Stoicism seems to be his general default, and one would be hard-pressed to find a time where he is actually, distinctly, expressive. That isn’t to say that he is merely an empty husk of a man, emotionless and unable to feel, he simply doesn’t see the need to get over excited about things in daily life. This can be absolutely maddening to those who do not know him well, as they are apt to receive the same response for nearly everything that they attempt to question him about or coax out of him. To those that have learned to read him, however, he is as expressive as any other man, it is merely that his emotions are expressed through subtle changes in his demeanor rather than wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Beneath everything, though, he is a normal man like any other, with normal desires and hatreds. Though he may not express it often, he has a love for the simple things in life, preferring to not involve himself with anything that grows too complicated too fast. A good beer, a clear morning, sweets (shh, don’t tell)…it’s all wonderful to him. He is not without ambition though, and though he does like simplicity, he is also a man that enjoys power as well. There is an innate desire within him to rule, but there is also an aversion to having to deal with the daily tasks that are required of people in higher positions. It is a paradox that he struggles with: prestige vs. quiet. Strangely enough, even with his dislike of complication, he thoroughly enjoys history, especially that of warfare. It has been a love of his since he was young, and now that he has grown older, he takes a certain sort of pride in his knowledge.

If one knows how to push the right buttons, however, he can be quite easy to annoy and frustrate. Though it is a difficult task, it is indeed possible to irk out responses. Though one wouldn’t expect it, it is actually quite easy to cause Ansigar to become flustered, especially when physical contact is involved. He is a man that prefers to keep to himself and does not subscribe to the idea that people should share personal space, and thus he becomes incredibly awkward if one touches him. Hugging, pats on the shoulder, any sort of clinging…well it’s enough to make him break his cool. Similarly, outright stupidity can cause him to become sarcastic and cynical, as having to deal with people without any common sense is an incredible annoyance.

It is very obvious to everyone around that he takes his family very seriously, unless of course it involves his brother. Though not a father, he behaves in a very paternal manner over his younger relatives, so much so that he can be a rather stubborn force to deal with in regards to them. When faced with the knowledge that someone is attempting to harm, harass, or make any of them, he becomes the proverbial ‘mother bear’ type figure, fighting tooth and nail to make sure that they are alright. Oftentimes this takes the form of severe passive-aggressive threatening towards the offending party, as he prefers to intimidate right off the bat if he can, but he isn’t above actual physical harm if provoked. In fact, it is perhaps best not to provoke him, as he is rather brutal when pushed just right.

Likes:
◉ Quiet
◉ Order
◉ Freedom to do as he pleases
◉ Early mornings
◉ Running
◉ Spelunking
◉ The sense of power
◉ Good alcohol
◉ History
◉ Historical weaponry
◉ Sweets

Dislikes:
◉ Chaos
◉ Capriciousness
◉ Threats against his family
◉ Laziness
◉ Frustration
◉ Being outwitted
◉ Fancy food
◉ Smart mouthed students
◉ Children in general

Strengths:
◉ Stoic
◉ Levelheaded
◉ Logical
◉ Physically strong
◉ Tenacious
◉ Tactician

Weaknesses:
◉ Emotionally stunted
◉ Difficulty working with others
◉ Stubborn
◉ Completely blunt
◉ Socially inept
◉ Prideful

History:
When asked, Ansigar will freely sate that he does not remember much of his childhood, especially regarding his younger years and end the line of questioning at that point. However, it is not entirely the truth, and his past, childhood, adolescence, and even young adulthood, is something that he is not enthused to discuss with anyone.

Truthfully, he was a child abandoned upon birth, given up by a mother who neither truly knew his father nor had the means to support a baby with the way that her life was currently structured. From there he was placed in a slew of foster homes and raised by so many faceless people. There was never a sense of belonging for him as a young child, never a sense of family or kinship with the people that he was around. Even from a young age, there was always something ‘different’ about the way he lived, and that sense of difference only increased as he began to attend school. After all, who else in his class couldn’t say who their mother and father were? Who else couldn’t say where they lived, if only because it kept changing? It was a harrowing experience for the young boy, and while he may not have completely understood the logistics, it wasn’t hard for him to figure out that he wasn’t necessarily normal.

That wasn’t to say that the families that he stayed with weren’t kind to him. No, it would have done them injustice to say otherwise, and he never was wanting for much; there was always a roof over his head, clothes on his back, and food to eat, even a few toys that he was allowed to take with him from house to house, but in the end, it just wasn’t the same as everything that he saw or heard at school. There was a sense of belonging that he didn’t have, and each time he was uprooted, whether for personal reasons, for the fact that he needed to be removed, or the sheer fact that his current family couldn’t afford to take care of him anymore, a sense of alienation began to fester. All he wanted was for someone to pay him heed, to notice him, to love him, but that was difficult in the life that he had been given. There was a striking sense of loneliness that came with such an existence, but there was little he could do with the cards that he had been dealt.

As a teen he rebelled in an attempt for attention, but it quickly became obvious that while he was indeed granted the attention that he wished for, instead of providing him with a sense of stability (because if people were angry with him, at least they were acknowledging him), it merely served to get him moved faster, and that was far worse than being alone. After the second change of foster families, his childish antics ended and he switched tactics, closing himself off from his supposed ‘family members’. While it was not a healthy thing to do, the subconscious logic had been ’if no one can get close, no one can hurt me’, and it served him…decently as he grew. Instead of worrying about that sense of belonging that he had craved as a child (and perhaps still did), he threw his extra energy into academics, convinced that if he couldn’t make people love him through force of will alone, then he would force them to at least acknowledge him for the good that he did. It was in this that he grew disenchanted with the world, and he would find himself watching his peers, confused as to why they could be so carefree. Weren’t they worried about their future?

Graduation couldn’t have come quicker, and Ansigar was quickly saying goodbye to his mother and father, moving from their quaint home in the countryside to a prominent university. It was everything that he had always thought it would be: loud, huge, and chaotic, and yet it was still the best thing that he had ever seen. He was free of the life that had given up on him and the people that no longer treated him as their own, and it was there that he began to finally move past all of the anger and resentment that plagued him as a boy. He found a love of ancient history, of early morning runs, and (most embarrassingly) a colleague that would swap between being absolutely insufferable and endearing. Ansigar refuses to speak of what when on between the two, but he does grow rather flustered when the subject is brought up, leading most to believe that there was some sort of attraction; whether or not it was reciprocated is an entirely different question.

All in all, however, he managed through his college years just fine, graduating with two degrees: one in European history, the other in archeology, but it didn’t seem like it was enough. Throughout his entire life he had always strived to be the best, and one measly piece of paper wasn’t nearly impressive enough. He began looking for places to start graduate work, intent on doing even more. While it could have been seen as a desire to better himself, the truth was far from that: Ansigar wanted power. The smarter he was, the better credentials that had, the more opportunities there were to be had, the more people would be envious of that which he had acquired. A childish thought, yes, but it was a drive in his very being that he had to follow.

It was that drive that sent him back to school not a year later, this time for his master’s degree. Academics were what he knew, and to shy away from them would be to lose who he was, and so he soldiered on. The constant stress on his mind and body did nothing beneficial, however, but he pushed all of it out of mind. Schoolwork became more and more important, a way of escaping having to think about the situation, and he managed to graduate once again in a few years, his degree secured. It still felt shallow though, and he still wanted more. For a while he amused himself working as an assistant to one of the professors at the university he graduated from…but playing second in command wasn’t his style.

His big break came eventually, when he was finally able to devote all of his attention to his career, and that was when he was offered a position in England to present lectures at a smaller university. Ansigar accepted without hesitation, packing his things and leaving Germany for the first time in his life. It was exciting, and the job itself offered him just the freedom that he was looking for, it couldn’t have been better. He spent the better part of four years there, lecturing about ancient Germanic history to incoming freshmen, taking things at his own pace and working on side research projects in his spare time. It still wasn’t enough though…it was almost his curse to never be satisfied where he was. The staff of the university had begun to take him for granted, his classes were getting cut, it was a blatent show of disrespect in Ansigar’s mind.

Then the letter from World W Academy came.

He had been scouted personally to serve as one of the history teachers at the private school. At first he scoffed at the thought, deciding that teaching children was beneath what he was already doing, but as the weeks passed and more and more of his students were dropping and more and more of his classes were being considered for termination, it seemed as though he didn’t have much of a choice. Ultimately, Ansigar decided that it was better to take a chance for once rather than staying on the sinking ship that was his job in England. Thus, he packed his things and moved yet again, this time to the Academy, intent on using it as a temporary job in order to further himself in the future.


Weapon:
None; fights barehanded

Statistics:

~Knowledge: 3-Expert
~Courage: 5-Heroic
~Diligence: 4-Thorough
~Expression: 1-Rough
~Understanding: 1-Basic

Persona:

~Name:
Wēlandaz

Wēlandaz is an ancient Elven blacksmith in Germanic mythology, and he is known to have forged the blades and armor of countless heroes. However, he is also a vindictive and rage-filled man, and has famously slaughtered, raped, and desecrated those that have wronged him.

~Arcana: The Chariot

~Drain: Fire
~Weak: Ice, Hama
~Null: N/A
~Resist: Slash
~Skills:

Offensive
◉ Akasha Arts: Hits 1-2 times for a large amount of Strike damage with each hit to all enemies.
◉ Ragnarok: Inflicts a huge amount of Fire damage to one enemy.
◉ Provoke: 25% chance of inflicting the Rage ailment.

Defensive
◉ Endure: Survive being knocked Unconscious once per battle with 1 HP remaining.
◉ Power Charge: The next Slash, Strike, Pierce, or Almighty physical attack will be 2.5 times greater in power.
◉ Auto-Mataru: Begin the battle with Matarukaja cast on the team. Takes precedence over Auto-Tarukaja.
◉ Counterstrike: 30% chance of repelling a Physical attack while not knocked "Down".
◉ Raging Tiger: Doubles Attack power while suffering from "Rage".

Roleplay Sample:

The acrid stench of burning wood and flesh was thick within the smoky air, clinging to everything and every person that dared to trudge through the former battlefield. It had been a long, hard day, filled with the clashing of blade and shield, the screaming of dying men, and the rage of two empires pitted against each other in mortal combat. One side had been precise order and intricate planning, the other pure savagery and guerilla tactics, but the fighting had raged on throughout the morning and into the afternoon. The sun was now setting, but the glow of a dozen or so funeral pyres lit up the sky in red, shedding a bloody glow across the carnage.

A man dressed in red-stained finery walked through the bodies, his face a mask of marble tranquility. His hair was matted, tangled almost beyond saving, and more than one wound graced his form, but he seemed to ignore all of it. It had been a long day, and he was glad to get away from his men. Their pain was his own, after all, and even if he could still feel the ache within his very soul, the solitude was a placebo, putting his weary mind at rest. Oh, hours before he had been chaos, filled with the sting of sweat and fear. Rage and ravage, blood and barbarism. He grinned widely, lips and teeth stained with the blood of the unfortunate man whom had tried to stop him. Rome’s forces had no idea how to deal with the ferocity borne in the hearts of the Germanic tribes, and the battle today had been little more than a slaughter.

It should have been a bittersweet thing, to go against one whom he used to protect, but Germania couldn’t find any regret within his heart. They had gone their separate ways, and he was merely protecting his interests now that Rome was trying to invade his territories. It was typical of the man, and the blond-haired man had no idea how someone so empty headed could be so absolutely power hungry. It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to the lust for influence; no, he knew that very well indeed, but there was a difference between the both of them. Germania prided himself on being strong, on being the undisputed champion of his lands, and his people followed in his path, their ferocity carving a way for them throughout the world. Rome…Rome was growing old and weak, what with his politicians and military officers and the decadence he was so fond of. It took instinct and tactics to survive, to win, and there was no way the other empire could ever appreciate that, all glutted on wine, fine foods, and other obnoxious luxuries.

There was a call that echoed across the field; all was safe by the first watch, even with the fires blazing. No matter, the Romans would return, and once again they would be crushed. Rome would regret his decision to move into the north, Germania would make sure of that personally. He would kill the empire, take the glory of ending the man’s life with his own two hands.

Did you read the rules...?
So are awesome pancake chicks pancakes in the shape of chicks? Those seem like they’d be pretty awesome.

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[Elizabeth]

Yeah. Daddy Weillschmidt was a douche. Bl I enjoy the douche-baggery that you gave him here.

Ansigar needs a hug. >D He'll be getting a ton of those from Maria. Hurr. I like this profile~<3 It's well done. :3 The history and personality were fun to read and the rest blends well. Approved.