Welcome to Gaia! ::

Name: Björn Guildson
Nickname: Tank, Thor, Big Guy
Age:16 17 18 19 20 21
Height: 6'3" 6'7" (done growing)
Weight: 260 Lbs. 320 lbs.
Birthday: January 12th, xxXX
Sign: Capricorn
Gemstone: Capricorn is ruled by four stones: ruby, agate, garnet, and black onyx. In addition to the Zodiac stones, lapis lazuli is called its Planetary stone and onyx the Talismanic Stone.
Blood Type: A+
Fav. Food: Swiss Miss Marshmallow Lovers, Salmon steak
Hated Food: vegetables are what food eats
School: Hillworth Grammar School Graduated!

Hobbies:
Strongman –
The Worlds Strongest Man competition is the most interesting ‘sport’ on the planet, and Magnús Ver Magnússon is Jesus. He watches it every year, and has been in the crowd twice. As an only child, his mother feels justified in trying to provide for his interests, and cheer on goals of one day competing. She’d like it if he’d look at the Olympics, too. He thinks the Olympics are too limiting, and not practically applied to real world situations like they used to be.

Food –
While it takes an awful lot of junk to put something in the trunk, Björn actually likes trying new dishes and going out to eat at new places. His mother is a chef of skill and subtlety, and a bonafide foodie, and she’s passed the interest to her son. When he isn’t cramming down pounds of chicken breasts (about 10,000 calories a day is what he needs), he’s eager to try new pastas, pate, and confections.

Exercise –
Be the dream! Björn trains almost every day, preferably for 5 hours a day. Squats, deadlifts, overhead presses, along with general weight training for a overall balance of form comprise his quest for athleticism. In the fashion of old strongmen, he doesn’t mind crowd-feats, like halving decks of cards or bending steel bars.

Virtues:
Accepting –
He’s gentle, and not generally critical of those around him. Björn figures everyone has a reason for what they’re doing, it’s a matter of whether or not it infringes on someone else’s basic freedoms. He’ll forgive others basic transgressions of dickery, preferring everyone move on without the need for drama.

Reliable –
Björn would rather be exercising or eating instead of the ego-jockeying and self-interest adventures most teens get up to. He's a simple guy with simple tastes, and because of his life goals (read: world competitions and Olympian sports) is a reliable person. He carries a day planner to write down things necessary to remember, and follows a regimen strictly for daily life(5 am - wakeup, 5:15 gym, 7:45 - showers, 8:15 homeroom....)

Prepared –
Since he’s used to keeping his own schedule, performing for people and small competitions, Björn has some spare savings at his age and a fair collection of random knowledge and objects to access at a moment’s notice. He collects practical, life knowledge. If you hang out with contractors at a dive and chat them up, you'll probably learn how to best change oil on a car, how to best paint a house interior, and how using a five gallon bucket of boiling water will clear a clogged toilet. He likes simple reading like magazines and almanacs, from which he's learned the proper way to set a table (Martha Stewart Living), or how to choose a barber (GQ magazine, Hint: Trust a man with scissors, not clippers). Magazines and short news clips, conversations with people at a burger joint...these are all things that don't take a lot of time or heavy focus to engage in. Like schoolwork, half-an-hour or less!

Between his duffel and his messenger bag, if you need money or something useful, or someone to do it, he’s a good guy to ask. Nail clippers? Done. A lighter? Done.

Flaws:
Dumb
He’s not the brightest bulb in the pack. He doesn’t assign effort towards schoolwork. A solid C student, he’s attentive in class but won’t do assignments that take any longer than a half hour. He believes in worldly, practical knowledge for himself. He appreciates those with wits and high learning, but he isn’t going to be convinced he should be joining their ranks. Other than powerlifting and strongman competitions, Björn aims to become a tradesman of some sort, like a carpenter or steelworker.

And Knows It
Bjorn ‘s mother and his family have never sugar-coated anything. He knows that he isn’t the smartest cookie. To try to make up for it, he tries never to make impulsive decisions and always looks to find second, or even third opinions. Or fourth…seventh… This isn’t just indecisiveness, Bjorn does not trust his own judgment. He’s either painfully slow about decisions, or he’ll defer to someone he has come to respect. Defending friends and family are the only exception to this, as response in ‘war’ has to be immediate. He’ll just expect that he’s going to have made a mistake somewhere in it and have to pay for it.

Obeisance
It’s medieval, but it works for him. It probably won’t work for others. When meeting and interacting with others, Bjorn actively makes assumptions based on ability and intelligence, and assigns people places in the kingdom in his head. Once a person is casted, it is hard to fall from grace or rise from mud. He thinks of himself as a warhorse or a sword, not even person, everyone else gets to be the knights, nobility, and peasantry. He will take orders from a noble if he has come to think of them as a friend and as his own lord or lady. As long as they take steps to never appear blackly evil, and can always offer short, easily understood justification, he won’t question it and will serve faithfully, as their judgment is better than his. It is not the horse or sword that chooses how it is best wielded.

Insofar as life in this state, he isn't innovative (and won't), he doesn't take the initiative to do more then is explicitly given in directions, and there is no 'give 110%'. He isn't smart enough and he expects he'd just mess something up.



PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

Eyes: smiling grey/blue depending on the light and what he’s wearing

Hair: A rope of honey blonde that hangs to his thighs. A well-kept braid, as anything else at that length would risk catching in work out equipment.

Face: He’s one of those guys who looks like they could be in college while they are in high school, this primarily due to his size and build. His jaw is hard-chiseled, masculine, and his profile is something like a Leyendecker dream.

Clothes: Either cheap or really tailored. Shopping for his size is specialized.




"General. Titan"

Challenge: Take the knee.

Uniform:

Main Color & Secondary Color:Black and Charcoal
Weapon --
A foam LARP hammer > a plain war hammer > a grand goremaul (one of those person sized anime hammers of massive)


Named for the Type Locality, Isle of Låven, Langesundsfjord, Norway.
Titan-Låvenite is considered a subgroup of låvenite that is rich in titanium.
Member of: Wöhlerite Group
Formula:
(Na,Ca)2(Mn2+,Fe 2+)(Zr,Ti)(Si2O 7)(O,OH,F)2
System: Monoclinic
Colour: Colorless to brownish-yellow, brown, brownish-red, orange-brown.
Lustre: Vitreous
Hardness: 6

Q: When it comes to shopping for clothes/school uniforms... how does he get them adjusted? Have them tailor made, or just altered to fit/match the dress code? You mention (and we can SEE) that he is MASSIVE - it's not easy to shop for several reasons...

• A: He gets mail catalogs (many such companies now have online sites, but he prefers to peruse the catalogs and then place orders by phone.) Examples are Casual Male XL and Carhartt.
  
  Q: (which leads me to my next question) how does he cope with the world not meant for someone so braw and bonny? Like, if he needs shaving cream or a pack of gum or whatever - does he suffer himself to go scaring the DC locals (I'm thinking yes) or would he ask a friend to perhaps pick up a few things for him -- or a combo? (likely).
  
• A: He's not shy about interacting with other human beings at all. He likes general attention and admiration, and when it comes to the rest of life he's learned that communication is the key to getting the ball rolling. Being a performance artist, which is what the old-time demonstrations are all about, takes a lot of setting things up: negotiating contracts, handshaking, and time spent organizing with other entertainers. DJ's and announcers, mostly. It's when he's forced into blatantly too-small occasions that he feels awkward and out of place.
  
  In the case of most retail stores with living needs, there is an aspect of design called 'butt-touch' room. I kid you not, there's research that aisles need to be wide enough that a customer can take a few steps back in consideration/thought about products/purchases....all because if their butt touches a display table behind them it will interrupt their thought and they will be a percentage chance less likely to make their purchase. This being the case, Drug stores, department stores and grocery stores all have wide walk spaces to allow 1-2 people enough room to do this without running into each other. This means in normal stores there's enough room for Bjorn to meander about without being a bull in the china shop.
  
  General life is manageable. It's the 'recreational' activities where large people are rarely taken into account. Most Bicycles are only made for people weighing 250 lbs or less, as with most weight training equipment that isn't free weights. Any mass-seating with arms (planes, trains, automobiles) are meant for people with bodies wholly beneath the 40-45" width mark. He'll politely bow most of the time. If someone's persistent, he'll try to explain how he doesn't fit, how it will make an inconvenient situation where the staff can't cope and managers get awkward, and how other customers will be staring at the ridiculous scene if something gets broken. If the persistent party still doesn't get it, they'd have to be a good friend/caste above him for him to agree to go along, otherwise he'll try to politely excuse himself altogether from dealing with them.
  
  
  Q: What about his dad?
  
• A: He's a sailor in Norway. He does not know he has a son. Annbjørg met him 16 years ago at a cafe while she was on vacation and they spent a week together. She learned she was pregnant a month later, in the USA, and didn't see any reason to try to track the sailor down. She was happy to raise and care for her child herself.
  Björn has never met nor searched for him, despite his various trips to Norway and Sweden to visit his extended family. He knows his father's name was Guild, and he knows that his mother met the man in Stavanger.
  
  Q: I have a question?
  
• A: Feel free to PM Ivynian and ask!

Nærøyfjord Knight
Past Life Identity (reincarnated knight)

Name: Aeðalsteinn ( aðal "noble" and steinn "stone" )
Age of Awakening: 10; studied two years at the Academy
Age of Death: Currently unknown.

Appearance:

Personality:
Virtues:
Hobbies:

Credits -

Art © Respective Artists

• Sailor Moon created by Naoko Takeuchi.
  
• In the Name of the Moon created by Natsube and ItNotM Staff.
  
• Björn Guildson as a character and concept belong to Ivynian, all other Player Characters belong to their respective owners! And they ROCK.
  

[SOLO] Price of "Chivalry"
Words: 1,451



The Superintendent pinched the bridge of her nose just north of the bridge of her spectacles. The motion shifted, moving her fingers beneath the nose pads to relieve the plum-colored pressure marks there. “We have the statements here from the local department, as well as a few affidavits from Bronson & Bronson associates regarding the trial. What we don’t have, other than the official paperwork, is your side of the story, Mr. Guildson.”

He could feel Annbjørg tense next to him, her knuckles were white on the top of her little handbag. It was awkward standing behind the little folding table, a little folding meeting chair unused but there behind his calves. It was like sitting at a plastic, girl’s tea table. He hated how so many American schools equated cheap and functional with professional or authoritative. The school board meeting room felt like a manila envelope turned into a town hall. It smelled like a filing cabinet too, which didn’t help. “Do you want the whole story? Everyone else only asks what matters in court. ”

Anna interrupted from his side, defending him, “He has answered many questions already to the police. It is there on the paper.”

His hand dwarfed her shoulder, but stood pale against the black of her suit blazer. He felt a little pale. He wanted to graduate school and make her proud, even if it wasn’t really necessary to get into a trades guild.

“We do. It is true, in many ways, that this is all a formality. But I’d like to try to help you, Mr. Guildson. If your side of the events corroborates with those of the students who came forward to support you in the hall, maybe something can be done.”

Something? Something like what? He and Mama had sat down over the student handbook and Code of Conduct, puzzling out the ramifications of what had happened. He was going to be expelled, no matter the circumstances, so what else could be done that would be helpful? “Do you mind if I’m not behind this table? It is …small.”

Superintendent Haynes' mouth softened to a smile, her hand lifted and waved that he could come forward into the no-man’s-land that gulfed between the Board of Directors and the seating provided for the community.

“I was at my locker, eating a snack. It was after 10:15, because class had let out. The warning bell hadn’t rung yet. It was probably 10:18, then. There’s some boys not far down from my locker. They are part of the marching band. I have class with David Styers fourth period, for Chemistry. He and I tease that ‘C is for chemistry’, but he’s nice and helps me try to understand how to balance the chemicals. He hasn’t gotten along with Tyler since 6th grade, but I don’t know why. I think they just don’t like each other as people. Tyler has strong friends; they’re all on the track team. He’s been bullying David more and more since the first of this month. I told David to report it to the councilor, and he did. The school has done nothing. Mrs. Earnesly just told David to ‘avoid Tyler and avoid the situation’. How are you supposed to avoid someone in the halls? When they come looking for you? He was pushing David into his locker, and no one was doing anything. I think some people ran to get a teacher, but David’s nose had hit the side of the locker by then, it was bleeding. They were trying to stuff him in. If no one else was going to stop them, if they didn’t know to stop themselves, then I could. So I picked Tyler and Mark Gran up by their shirts. They aren’t too heavy for playing track.”

“Practicing track, or participating on the track team, Mr. Guildson.”

“Ah, practicing track. “ He ducked his head sheepishly a moment, and waited for her to clear her throat for him to continue, “Mark was yelling some, nothing polite. Tyler said if I didn’t mind my own business, I would be sorry. He can still kick held off the ground, but it didn’t hurt too badly. I dropped them both, since they were paying attention to me and not David. But I was wrong. Tyler stood up and threw the locker door closed on David I think it was just to make some point. He was mostly out, but it made a bad sound, and David’s hand was caught in it. There was no reason for that, except being mean. I got angry, he was just not giving up on hurting David. So I grabbed him and put him against the wall. I really just meant to knock the air out of him, to hold him still so that he couldn’t get away before the teacher got there. “

“Mr. Gatter’s report said he arrived with you holding Tyler against the wall above the lockers, Tyler was crying. “

“The lawyers that brought us papers last week said he had lots of broken bones.”

“Nine broken ribs and a punctured lung is a lot for just hitting a cement wall. And a fractured scapula.”

“The Judge Magistrate ordered me to talk with the School Nurse. She said chest bones are really easy to break, like in CPR. She said I threw him too hard, and held him too hard against the wall. She said I shouldn’t give anyone CPR. “

“That is probably sound advice, Mr. Guildson. “ She sighed, “The accounts from students in the hall support your being a defender to David Styers. Regardless, you’re a powerful young man and in gross need of learning the limits of that strength in relation to your peers. I believe the charges of unnecessary force still stand, as well as charges of Level III violations of the Code of Conduct: Disorderly Conduct, Fighting and the civilian misdemeanor of simple battery. You will be expelled from North Hills School District as of Monday, and may not apply to the district to attend until at least one year from the termination of this school year. “

He could hear his mother’s knuckles creak on her bag.

“That being the case, “Dr. Haynes shuffled the papers in front of her into a single, neat stack. “I’d still like to extend a letter of recommendation to you. It may not be much, but it could prove useful in applying to another school with this on your record. Battery charges especially act as a red letter, but explanations as to the nature of the offense, and your role as ….white knight…could be helpful. You need to realize, Mr. Guildson, your own strength and that fighting is never the answer. If you want to help in the future, I suggest just interposing yourself between the aggressor and victim, and then nothing further. Let the authorities take care of the rest. “

Björn nodded mutely, taking the cue to return to his seat. There was little more to the meeting, some papers he and mama had to sign. There was nothing else worth paying attention to until they passed out through the double doors to the municipal hallway. David was standing there, his older sister not too far off with the car keys. His poor hand was wrapped with gauze, stiffened with an air brace. “Björn…”

“Hallo, David. You’re going to need a new lab partner.”

The maimed hand moved forward, and caught his own monstrous paw, “No, It’s too close to summer to bother. But…thank you. I can’t play the trumpet for a few months, but I’ll be okay. Whatever s**t they tell you, thank you, Björn. No one else was doing a thing. “

“Maybe you can write with your other hand. I have to apply to some other school. “

Mama patted his back, “There may be a private school somewhere that will accept someone with a record. We’ll have to look. There’s a few military prep schools, maybe some correctional schools. Nothing near here, so I think we’ll have to move. “

“You still have my email, don’t you?” David looked doubtful. Björn had never used the email, even when they exchanged them at the start of the year as lab partners.

“Ja. If there’s a lab where I end up, I’ll write you. “

“Yeah…hey, really do that, okay?”

“You’ll be the only friend I’ll have at some new place. “ But if we have to move, you’ll be miles and miles away.

“I’ll write you. Get to a library or something occasionally this summer and read them. Let me know where you end up.”

[REG] Small and Mighty
[ Ashley and Björn ]
2,390 words // 3,064 words


[ LINK ]

[REG] Venti?...That'll be $5.95
[ Talia and Björn ]
3,423 words // 3,133 words



[ LINK ]

[REG] So There I Was, Minding My Business
[ Johnny and Björn ]
3,228 words // 2,916 words


[ LINK ]

[SOLO] Objects in the rear-view mirror may appear closer than they are...
Words: 1,680

He’d found a tea-and-sandwiches sort of café called Mother Bread, and he’d decided it was quiet and chill enough that he could easily collect thoughts and commit them to paper there. A few letters were already finished. He’d brought all that he needed with him-- notebook, blue Bic pen, envelopes that he’d pre-addressed and stamped. Finished were letters to his cousins, grandparents, and a few friends overseas, his mother and aunt, and David.
The last one was to himself. He didn’t keep a diary, but he did keep letters. It felt right, when his great aunt had suggested it to him years before, to write letters to himself. It would send those thoughts, whatever loves and stresses were in his mind, off to vacation for a while, to mature and become something different. When he got the letter back, he could look at it with fresh eyes. And the post office dated things for you. The circle and ink of the post office was an official stamp that kept track of your handwriting, the progression of pages that filled up your days, and at last, would make neat little packages to keep in a hatbox. They were presents to open in the future when days were grey as your hair. Still, he did it about as often as he bothered to match socks. His handwriting was slow and it took forever to trouble about the exercise. His last letter to himself was a good four months old, and more than a lot had happened since then.

He sipped a vanilla soy steamer, considering the tabula rasa of scratched out starts and flipped to another page. This page was a brand new skin to pierce with what could loosely be referred to as his ‘handwriting’. ‘Cave-scrawls’ probably would have served just as well. There’d been a magazine article in a gentlemen’s and business quarterly that had espoused the sophistication and importance of good handwriting – it had covered the lengthy history of the art and how lovers had once woo-ed wholly based on their craft of words and the quality of how the wrote them …and on what in what ink. He thought the whole lot of it fascinating and romantic, wishing he could be the messenger and privy, by lightly heating the wax seals so as to open letters without breaking the wax emblem, to a great romance between his own master and a fair creature.



With that he closed the letter, folded and placed it into the waiting envelope. There was probably more he could have said on some subjects, but it seemed enough as a start, and he was getting bored of writing. He wasn’t meant for the task for long. Andrew Collins, the rather amazing looking gym teacher, and that odd girl walking the dogs, Lily, could be for another time.

* Mother
**Everything has an end, except the sausage, she has two.