America [Done]

[nikki]

ALFRED F. JONES


"I, like, want you to wear a carnival skirt and sway your hips at them." - America to England, Hetalia manga

Bittida en morgon innan solen upprann

Bergatrollet friade till fager ungersven

Country: America

Human name: Alfred F. Jones

Apparent age: 3 to 5 years

Gender: Male

Appearance: Give a description of their appearance. One paragraph please.

Alfred stands around two to three feet tall in comparison to the other full grown countries wandering around the planet. He has sandy blond hair that messily fashions to his scalp and falls just below his temples. His eyes are as deep blue as the water that surround his land to the east and west. And his skin is pale, although darker in contrast to the shades of the Norwegian variety.

[/size]

Hon hade en falskeliger tunga

Herr Mannelig herr Mannelig trolofven i mig för det jag bjuder så gerna

Strengths: What are they good at? Also give a little explanation, if you will.

• Any and everything physical
  
  
• Public speaking
  
  
• Commanding
  
  
• Exploring
  
  
• Pretending
  
  

Weaknesses: Everybody must have weaknesses, what are your character's?

• Conceit
  
  
• Lack of general understanding
  
  
• Fattening foods
  
  
• Anything flashy/mildly entertaining
  
  
• Memories
  
  

Fears: What do they fear?

• Ghosts
  
  
• Lack of cheeseburgers
  
  
• Being forgotten
  
  

Personality: Alfred is vivacious and arrogant. Always at the ready, he seems undeterred in all that comes his direction. A true leader/hero in every form of the word, he is courageous and baffled by all who do not seem see things his way. He likes to argue despite being right or wrong. If America says and believes something to be a certain way, then that’s the way it is. No exceptions.

Underneath this rough and rather unappealing exterior, America finds solace in memories that he doesn’t dare relive within the presence of others. His true emotions are often hidden behind uncaring smiles and apparent disinterest. His lack of world knowledge often infuriates his fellow countries and continues to create a vast difference between him and the rest of the world

He is afraid of nothing but death/being forgotten (hence his fear of ghosts). There are often times that he’s forgetful, annoyingly so. Some would beg to differ by saying that he’s not forgetful, merely incompetent and incapable of caring for anyone who isn’t him. America is all-too-aware of others general dislike of him but doesn’t seem to be concerned in the slightest bit.

[/size]

Eder vill jag gifva ett förgyllande svärd

Och strida huru I strida vill. Stridsplatsen skolen i väl vinna

Family: England

Friends: England; Japan

Friends: Cuba; most countries

History: Alfred doesn’t remember much of anything aside from simply being and finding an empty landscape. His dreams often are filled with loud metal birds and ringing sticks that lick with smoke, launch smooth objects, and induce pain. He sees faces but knows none of them. He seems to remember a yesterday that never existed alongside his current today.



Note: Try make this generic, and if you are going to be making up another country/s history, please keep in mind that this is subject to change. Please also take a look at other country's history before writing yours, if applicable.

Also, the countries actual history, before 2010 is very important. Make sure you know more about the country than what you learn from Hetalia.

RP Sample:

Birds sang and buffalo grazed and groaned their approval of the world through hot huffs of air and long moos. This vibrant landscape was perfected as a Garden of Eden replica, left for the wild animals and nature to enjoy the atmosphere, minus the young boy fast asleep between large bristles of grass and dirt. He was the one exception to this continental utopia. Much like the surroundings, he was innocent and extraordinaire, yet ordinarily so.

He was content to simply be and to not do. What could possibly be had when no one shared in the world with him? Where was everyone? What was it that he had done to earn a spot in such supreme solitude? Had he been exceptionally good? Or bad? Had he always been here or had he been somewhere else before? Before? Before what?

There were times when he wondered if he was rather silly. One could only talk to wild creatures and plants for so long before the conversation grew too one-sided. But something told him that this wasn’t his beginning. Perhaps this was a sequel? But to what? What exactly had he been before being him?

At night he could listen to the crickets and count the stars and simply imagine until he fell asleep. It was in his dreams that he found the most confusion. Bright lights and loud birds that glinted like the water filled the sky and dropped loud and dangerous eggs from their bodies when provoked. And there was always one person he found in the midst of this --firm and protective; loving-- and he would be home. Like his very inception had been because of that person all along. And in his dreams this person -- with the strange voice and eyes as green as his were blue-- stayed with him. Until the end.

But during the day, when sleep’s spell slowly lifted and the sun whispered its good morning, his ideals ran cold and these fantasies faded. They were mere spectacles created by nothing more than a lonely, lonely boy. But somewhere in those dreams, those small glimpses of what might have been, he found more loneliness. More than he felt now, regardless of the people surrounding him and voicing their agreements inside his dream world.

Maybe that’s why he was forlorn now. It seems, on most days, that little Alfred could stare into a river or lake and feel his heart beating through the ripples. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. And then it would miss, like some of the pieces had shattered and remained severed from the rest of him. If those missing pieces had been because of the people in his dreams, then perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to be alone. He didn’t need their careless conversations to be happy. He had himself and that was more than enough. He could spend countless hours talking to himself in the river and find sheer joy in the smile staring back at him. Yes, he was perfectly content to be alone. No one would be looking for him anyway…or they would have found him by now.

So each night the young country went to sleep, trying to piece back the broken heart he had been born (reborn?) with.

[/size]

“Sådana gåfvor toge jag väl emot”

“Om du vore en kristelig qvinna. Men nu så är du det värsta bergatroll, af Neckens och djävulens stämma

[ OOC ]

Name: Nikki

Age: 22

Experience: I’ve roleplayed Lord of the Rings for most of my roleplaying career. I was active for five years before taking leave. I’ve only recently returned to the roleplaying scene.



Contact: YIM: [e-mail]
Twitter: senpai_x


Anything else?: Just remember, I’m the hero.

[/size]

Bergatrollet ut på dörren sprang

“Hade jag fått den fager ungersven, så hade jag mistat min plåga.”

This template was created by Ophelia for Hetalia: Distorted Destiny. Lyricss are from the medieval Swedish ballad, "Herr Mannelig."

[Republik Österreich]

It's mostly fine but I would like for you to make a few additions/alterations;
The strengths, weaknesses and fear; add a sentence or two as explanation? Elaborate, if you will. Personality is fine, but elaboration also needed on friends, family and enemies.

Please also add America's history, regardless of whether he remembers it or not.

Thanks.

[nikki]

Absolutely! I got it.