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Description

Name: Gerda Hesstian
Gender: Female
Age: 27
Height: 165 cm (5’ 11”)
Weight: 66.7kg (147lb)
Legion: Garrison
Personality:
♎ Guarded. Optimistic. Balanced. Resolute.

Gerda had learned at a young age that it is best to always appear strong, to not 'lower morale'. She often wears an outer armor of pure optimism and resolution, even in sorrow and struggle. In addition to being guarded and conscientious to her duties, she is careful not to openly display cowardice or fear or any other negative emotion not desirable. In addition she is guarded on who she lets close beyond the sufficient warmth she displays daily.

She desires a family and to be appreciated but she know she cannot have this, not with the threat against humanity. The alternative is that she addresses people as a group, a collective to be trained and protected. She is competent and practical with her duties concerning material things such as ensuring sufficient supplies and transport of goods for civilians and soldiers to go about their respective duties.

When dealing with people as individuals it is quite another thing and is even difficult for her. Because she focuses so strongly on military tactics, for the greater good of humanity and achievement, she chooses to neglect relationships with the private people in her life and focuses more on the public, the general population of civilians.

Background:
Her father had told her to stay home while he goes to work at the Walls, it is safer that way.

She knows what walls are like, knows the safety, sameness, and slothfulness of it all. She knows that it really isn’t peace, her mind is not at peace, she’s keeps her imagination up, wandering about the house to keep her hands from being idle.

She would sit by a window and watched as people pass and go about their duties, the milk man delivering the milk, men delivering grain, bakers baking bread for workers in the morning. She knew how their hard work before the rooster even crowed was dedication and that their efforts got the town running while everyone was sleeping.

Sometimes she entertained herself by waking up in these wonderful hours, watching people go about. Sometimes she would lean a bit closer out the glass of the window, or push a bit wider the wood of the door. But she never stepped out. She always listened, whether it was instructors or elders or superiors.

Until one day her curiosity got the better of her and after much debate, she left the house to assist a worker. She was a given a ride on a horse in exchange for assistance with feeding the horses as well as cleaning the stables. She rode to the garrison post and arrived only to, see her father among other guards drinking vine and in a drunken stupor. She confronted her father about his behavior and it ended in her riding off on a horse in an angry huff.

When he got back from his job, if he still considered that his job she thought – he sat down and told her soberly how this is how he dealt with his loss. How he deals each day with the memory of her lost mother and why don’t you be careful, you could have fell off that horse do you realize how powerful their hoofs are? She answered that riding on the horse felt free and said that if horses were kept in barns, at least they were given moments to run free. She felt powerful and strong, and isn't that what you said?

Her father grudgingly let her wander the town now, let himself lose the peace of mind that she was absolutely safe. He would return home at times and see her bruised knees and clay colored hair but also her happy smile. He asked if she'd been climbing and riding and what not again. He chuckled upon hearing her recall how she climbed the wall of her friend’s house to visit. She continued to detail they had sneaked glances at an old book and recited out loud passages to one another. She confessed that she was reprimanded by her friend’s mother because her child should have been physically training to join the military divisions. Once she caught her breath at the end of the story, she requested her father that she be given permission to join the military as well. Her father just agreed and applauded.

Naturally she climbed the ranks as effectively as she climbed walls. More and more the distance between her and her friend grew. It was the cannons atop the walls she wanted to see, it was the view of those weathered roofs she wanted to overlook. Rather than accept a position within Wall Sina, the walls of the royals, Wall Rose is where she chose to stay and twin roses are what she chose to wear upon her back.

Other:
-she absolutely abstains from vine; it’s bad for the liver and she has seen its other effects.
-she has a secret love of books.
-she values a balance of mind of body, it is especially useful when using 3D Maneuver Gear.
-curiosity has died down in her since she was a child.
-she keeps a smile and an alert face when she's awake but at nighttime she runs through lots of things in her head and doesn't get much sleep at times - basically optimism is high at day time and pretty low at night time when events catch up to her

RP sample:

She noticed the bags under his eyes matched the ones she had developed throughout their training. There was a plea in his eyes, to join him, to be safe. “You can! You qualify… Why not?” She looked down momentarily at the roof tops, her gaze distant. “I’m not a kid anymore, I can’t go and just ride out beyond the walls, but I can’t stay in Wall Sina either.”
She turned back to face the green patch that was emblazoned with a white mane on his uniform. “The unicorn we thought existed for the military police does not exist and the horses of the scouting legion ride out daily for humanity’s existence only to return in dwindled numbers.”
Her eyes saw only the compliment color of that patch, and the idea had bloomed in her mind long ago. “There’s more practical things to do, there’s fires to be tended to and walls to maintain… I want to do what little I can for what hope remains. I’m at my best as part of the Garrison.”
And with that she took his hand, shook it firmly, and let it go. She did not allow her hand to linger. She finally met his gaze and saluted as she said farewell with her fist firmly planted against the red emblem of the Garrison legion.

Description

Name: Gerda Hesstian
Gender: Female
Age: 27
Height: 165 cm (5’ 11”)
Weight: 66.7kg (147lb)
Legion: Garrison
Personality:
♎ Guarded. Optimistic. Balanced. Resolute.

Gerda had learned at a young age that it is best to always appear strong, to not 'lower morale'. She often wears an outer armor of pure optimism and resolution, even in sorrow and struggle. In addition to being guarded and conscientious to her duties, she is careful not to openly display cowardice or fear or any other negative emotion not desirable. In addition she is guarded on who she lets close beyond the sufficient warmth she displays daily.

She desires a family and to be appreciated but she know she cannot have this, not with the threat against humanity. The alternative is that she addresses people as a group, a collective to be trained and protected. She is competent and practical with her duties concerning material things such as ensuring sufficient supplies and transport of goods for civilians and soldiers to go about their respective duties.

When dealing with people as individuals it is quite another thing and is even difficult for her. Because she focuses so strongly on military tactics, for the greater good of humanity and achievement, she chooses to neglect relationships with the private people in her life and focuses more on the public, the general population of civilians.

Background:
Her father had told her to stay home while he goes to work at the Walls, it is safer that way.

She knows what walls are like, knows the safety, sameness, and slothfulness of it all. She knows that it really isn’t peace, her mind is not at peace, she’s keeps her imagination up, wandering about the house to keep her hands from being idle.

She would sit by a window and watched as people pass and go about their duties, the milk man delivering the milk, men delivering grain, bakers baking bread for workers in the morning. She knew how their hard work before the rooster even crowed was dedication and that their efforts got the town running while everyone was sleeping.

Sometimes she entertained herself by waking up in these wonderful hours, watching people go about. Sometimes she would lean a bit closer out the glass of the window, or push a bit wider the wood of the door. But she never stepped out. She always listened, whether it was instructors or elders or superiors.

Until one day her curiosity got the better of her and after much debate, she left the house to assist a worker. She was a given a ride on a horse in exchange for assistance with feeding the horses as well as cleaning the stables. She rode to the garrison post and arrived only to, see her father among other guards drinking vine and in a drunken stupor. She confronted her father about his behavior and it ended in her riding off on a horse in an angry huff.

When he got back from his job, if he still considered that his job she thought – he sat down and told her soberly how this is how he dealt with his loss. How he deals each day with the memory of her lost mother and why don’t you be careful, you could have fell off that horse do you realize how powerful their hoofs are? She answered that riding on the horse felt free and said that if horses were kept in barns, at least they were given moments to run free. She felt powerful and strong, and isn't that what you said?

Her father grudgingly let her wander the town now, let himself lose the peace of mind that she was absolutely safe. He would return home at times and see her bruised knees and clay colored hair but also her happy smile. He asked if she'd been climbing and riding and what not again. He chuckled upon hearing her recall how she climbed the wall of her friend’s house to visit. She continued to detail they had sneaked glances at an old book and recited out loud passages to one another. She confessed that she was reprimanded by her friend’s mother because her child should have been physically training to join the military divisions. Once she caught her breath at the end of the story, she requested her father that she be given permission to join the military as well. Her father just agreed and applauded.

Naturally she climbed the ranks as effectively as she climbed walls. More and more the distance between her and her friend grew. It was the cannons atop the walls she wanted to see, it was the view of those weathered roofs she wanted to overlook. Rather than accept a position within Wall Sina, the walls of the royals, Wall Rose is where she chose to stay and twin roses are what she chose to wear upon her back.

Other:
-she absolutely abstains from vine; it’s bad for the liver and she has seen its other effects.
-she has a secret love of books.
-she values a balance of mind of body, it is especially useful when using 3D Maneuver Gear.
-curiosity has died down in her since she was a child.
-she keeps a smile and an alert face when she's awake but at nighttime she runs through lots of things in her head and doesn't get much sleep at times - basically optimism is high at day time and pretty low at night time when events catch up to her

RP sample:

She noticed the bags under his eyes matched the ones she had developed throughout their training. There was a plea in his eyes, to join him, to be safe. “You can! You qualify… Why not?” She looked down momentarily at the roof tops, her gaze distant. “I’m not a kid anymore, I can’t go and just ride out beyond the walls, but I can’t stay in Wall Sina either.”
She turned back to face the green patch that was emblazoned with a white mane on his uniform. “The unicorn we thought existed for the military police does not exist and the horses of the scouting legion ride out daily for humanity’s existence only to return in dwindled numbers.”
Her eyes saw only the compliment color of that patch, and the idea had bloomed in her mind long ago. “There’s more practical things to do, there’s fires to be tended to and walls to maintain… I want to do what little I can for what hope remains. I’m at my best as part of the Garrison.”
And with that she took his hand, shook it firmly, and let it go. She did not allow her hand to linger. She finally met his gaze and saluted as she said farewell with her fist firmly planted against the red emblem of the Garrison legion.