Soren Anderson - Denmark

[soren]

:human:



:basic:

Name: Soren Anderson
Age: 16
Nationality: Danish
Birthday: June 5th

Occupation: Spoiled rich kid
Upper, Middle, or Lower Class?: Upper
Attitude Towards Bots?: For the most part, they’re just shiny toys, however Norge is the one bot he not only has, but cherishes deeply.

Appearance: Soren has insane blonde hair and bright blue eyes, both big hints towards his Danish heritage. He also has a large, ever-present grin that either irritates or intrigues everyone he meets. His cheerful attitude towards everything shows in his smile and his wide, energetic gestures. He’s also rather tall, and has a face that will remain young even as he gets older.

Likes
[x] Norge
[x] Alcohol
[x] Video games
[x] Hiking
[x] Clinging to people

Dislikes
[x] Smoking
[x] Sitting around
[x] School
[x] Having to be serious
[x] Overdramatic situations

Strengths

[x] Has a strong business sense
[x] Physically very strong
[x] Clever
[x] Cheerfulness

Weaknesses

[x] Easily bored
[x] Gullible
[x] Cigarettes
[x] Not very academic

[/center]

:advanced:

Personality: Soren is a very cheerful sixteen year old, with the attitude of someone half his age and the worries of someone twice his age. He is very lonely under the smile, having been essentially abandoned by his parents at a very young age, and forced to raise himself after a series of incompetent nannies. He has no care for his own personal safety, but tends to get overprotective of anyone he decides to get close to.

Soren is extremely irresponsible, choosing parties over homework, bed buddies over friends, and alcohol over sensible thinking. The only thing that comes close to making him shape up and see reason is his bot, Norge. Outside of his irresponsibilities, Soren is extremely shrewd and business minded; being the son of two powerful CEOs and rubbing elbows with the high class of Eishoff through his youth has taught him much about the business world and all of its politics.

History: Soren was born to two very powerful Danish CEOs; his mother of Riis Diamonds and Jewelers, and his father of Anderson Records. He was a child to be envied for his place in life and his easy coasting through the rest of his years. However, his childhood was full of being passed from nanny to nanny, until he turned twelve and his parents fired his last nanny, declaring that he was old enough to watch himself. Soren quickly joined a bad crowd, finding his way into parties and clubs, his bank account enough to make most bouncers and bartenders look away from his clearly underage ID.

He kept this lifestyle up until his fifteenth birthday, when he ran into a Norwegian college boy while mostly drunk and found himself going home with him. The night was mostly a flash, but he remembered for once feeling cared about and taken care of, like someone actually wanted him for Soren and not the attached bank account. He woke up the next morning to a note explaining that Leif, the student, had run to get breakfast. Soren gave up waiting for breakfast at nine that night.

A few weeks later, Soren was given a bot by his father, a pale, blonde haired bot that Soren promptly named Norge, due to the Norwegian accent he had. The Danish boy assumed that life would run as usual, only to find himself surprised when one night, while trying to get out of his house to head to a party, Norge seemed to snap and pulled Soren back into his bedroom and scolded him for his unruly behavior. The attitude was a surprise, but it was enough to shock the teen into starting to fix his ways.

RP Sample:

Soren sat up, rubbing his forehead and grimacing. His hangover was killer, but that was his own fault, dabbling in things like vodka. He stumbled up and glanced over his shoulder at the guy who’s bed he was sharing. Hm, tall, blonde haired, too tan for Soren’s tastes. He laughed a bit and slipped out of the room, detouring in the bathroom before hitting the street and checking his phone.

Three missed calls, seventeen text messages, and a reminder that he needed to go to school for his history test. He deleted everything, and hailed a cab, slumping in the back.

“Western Sector, quickly please.” Soren leaned back in the seat, watching the buildings fly by. He smiled a bit and hummed to himself, remembering a vague melody from the concert at one of the clubs the night before. He tossed a wad of money at the driver and climbed out, heading up to the front of his house and tossing the door open, to come face to face with the very grumpy face of his own bot.

“. . . Morning, Norge!”

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:accepted: