Mathias Anderson [Denmark]

Human name: Mathias Anderson

Country name: Denmark

Personality: Mathias has always been the loud one, the obnoxious one, the one with a lazy smile that begs to be punched in, eyes blue like ice that shine with mocking superiority. It doesn’t help that he’s an idiot, crossing the line between funny and offensive while riding a steamroller made of a distinct lack of sobriety and a distinct abundance of ego. You turn to the page in your unabridged special-edition Nerdsters™ dictionary that features the word starting with a D and ending with an OUCHEBAG and there’s the guys self-satisfied smirk, explaining more about that illustrious word than a few lines of carefully constructed definition ever could.

Also, he enjoys gardening, baking, a good story, and indulging in the principle of hygge whenever he has loved ones willing to join him. Sometimes he does chores around the house while it shakes from much-too-loud rock n' roll, bellowing along with it.

Roleplay Sample: Mathias didn't know how long he'd been wandering around these gray corridors, didn't know how long the rain and thunder had been going on. Oh wait, he did. It was always fucking raining. It dripped from the ceiling, oozed out of the stone itself, pat pat pattering and obliterating all sense of time.

It was this dammed rain that had driven them in here in the first place, sending them scurrying into this shithole like half-drowned rats. He didn't think it had stopped since then, he was sure that wasn't possible. Just like it wasn't possible for all their food to disappear, vanish, without a so much as an ugly, snarling, infected to blame.

Mathias accidentally walks right under a hole in the ceiling and is promptly soaked to the bone, he snarls, eyes narrowing, and scoops up one of the many small pieces of rubble that lie on the ground so he can fling it back up at the hole. He misses, it bounces, and clatters back to the ground.

He grumbles and kicks it, sending it skidding, before he starts walking again.

He misses his family too. Misses the exasperated, but almost fond glare of one giant Swede. Misses the low murmur of one willowy Norwegian as he explains something to his fiery counterpart. Misses the crude jokes of an insufferably drunk Finn.

Fucking soft ass idiots are probably dead.

Mathias finally stops, even though his footsteps seem to continue, he ignores it. Probably the rain. The Dane leans against the wall, sliding down slowly to sit, head tilting back, once golden hair limp and with the luster of straw. God he needed a cigarette.

Anything Else?: Favorite color is brownish gold and I really like rping horror-like situations.

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