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Groundskeeper Torsten; Groundskeeper
Topic Started: Feb 12 2011, 12:53 AM (512 Views)
Groundskeeper Torsten
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g r o u n d s k e e p e r

H o l t T o r s t e n
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          B A S I C S
                              
     n a m e                                              Holt Torsten
     a g e                                                    29
     g e n d e r                                        Male
     y e a r s o n s t a f f                      Nine

     s p e c i e s
               Troll; a direct descendant of the giant jötunn of Norse mythology. Trolls are traditionally a heathen race of earth spirits, living in forests and under-hill, tending to the trees and wildlife. Physically, they are similar to humans, being slightly taller and much stronger.

     p e t s
               A murder of crows that hang out around the greenhouse, hoping for handouts. Most of them aren't named, except for Freja, the matriarch, and Idiot. Idiot flew into the glass roof of the greenhouse not long after it had been built, and since then has been a bit... special. Holt keeps him inside during the winter, since the poor bird can't be trusted to keep himself alive otherwise.

     m o d e l
               Steve Bacic


          A P P E A R A N C E
                              
     h e i g h t
               6'6" (198cm)
     w e i g h t
               262lbs (110kg)
     h a i r
               Black and very straight, Holt keeps his hair cut relatively long in shaggy layers. He keeps his beared neatly trimmed and shaved at the sides.
     b o d y
               Holt is tall, towering over most people. He's well built, with biceps to spare and is the approximate density of a brick wall. He has a square jaw and dark green eyes under bushy eyebrows, his ears end in a slight point.

     c l o t h i n g
               Holt wears a lot of black, prefering the color over others since it doesn't show dirt quite as well as others do. His wardrobe largely consists of tough jeans that can withstand a multitude of abuses, tank tops and other sleeveless shirts. Sturdy boots are a usual component, when he's not in the greenhouse, where he prefers going barefoot. Holt always wears a simple necklace, a small Thor's hammer on a black cord. It was once a magical charm his mother gave him, but since the magic wore thin, he just wears it because she gave it to him.

          P A S T
                              
               Holt was the third son of the leader of a nomadic tribe of trolls, who took to the wandering life after their traditional homeland was destroyed by a subdivision that necessitated the felling of all the trees for miles. Bereft of their homes, the tribe dedicated itself to the care of what bits of nature that the humans of the area had not yet utterly destroyed. A small copse of trees and brush aside the highway, good for rabbits and other small animals, a bit of prairie forgotten behind a school, teeming with life beneath the grass; anywhere the natural world thrived in spite of the humans that inhabited it, the tribe could be found.

               Holt was the family's sport; shorter than the other boys and less talented magically than his siblings and cousins. Still, they loved him greatly even as they despaired his ability to ever disappear properly or travel with the wind. His mother tried her best to keep him bespelled and invisible to human eyes, but even the best laid magics can't save a boy from his own curiosity and wandering feet. As a consequence, Holt spent more time in ready contact with humanity than any of the rest did, and as such learned much.

               His favorite among the humans he met was a batty old woman, whose garden had taken over her entire yard and part of her house. She kept horseshoes tacked over her doors to faeries out of the house, she said, and bowls of honey and shiny rocks at each window to keep them appeased, else they cause mischief in the garden. Holt visited her every time the tribe was in the area, and sat drinking her tea and listening to her stories and how the housing association wouldn't let her plant any trees, and wasn't that terrible?

               The old woman, Aunt Agatha, as she insisted on being called, had been a teacher when she was young. She taught him how to read and how to write; not the sort of lessons an average young troll would learn, or hold with as necessary or useful. She taught him basic maths as well, but he was never terribly good at it, having a tendency to get lost with numbers above 'a lot'.

               It was on Agatha's suggestion that the tribe sent Holt to Oddhart for further schooling. After all, not many trolls had the opportunity to attend high school, or even understand what one was beyond 'a building humans go to'. There he learned much about the world, and about magic (which he was still bad at), and about the infinite capacity of human children to be incredibly irritating. He loved the grounds though, and spent as much of his free time outside as he could and, in his considered opinion, improving them. Oddhart apparently found him amusing enough to let him get away with it.

               After his years at Oddhart, he returned to the tribe. Older and stranger than when he'd left, he found he no longer fit in as well as he had, even as the odd child out. After two years of frustration, fighting his own tendencies to be a loner, and the tribe's pushy, cheerful communistic approach to life, Holt felt very much at the end of his rope. He went to his mother, who shrugged helplessly and sent him to his father. His father couldn't imagine not wanting to live with the family and the tribe, and sent him away telling him he simply needed more time to re-adjust.

               So he went to Aunt Agatha. The venerable old woman pulled some strings and got him a job offer at the school she'd once been a teacher at: Oddhart.

               On the day he left, his mother presented him with a charm she and Aunt Agatha had worked on together. The charm, she said, would allow him to disappear whenever he felt the need to, as it just weren't right for a proper troll to go around visible all the time. Holt quickly became greatful for the gift due to one key fact he'd forgotten about his time at Oddhart; children were irritating. What are you doing? What for? Why? Why? He found it was much simpler to do his job if the human children couldn't see him to ask him questions.


          P R E S E N T
                              
               And so, he passed the time at Oddhart, content to care for the land and be left alone. Unfortunately fate has a sense of humor, and spells don't last forever. The charm his mother gave him nine years ago ceased to work over the summer holidays, forcing Holt to have to spend most of his time visible. He wrote her a letter, care of Aunt Agatha hoping for a replacement, and got a rather tart reply back that of course she'd be happy to... when he came back to visit the family. When would that be, hmm? Left with the choice of dealing with students or visiting the family, he chose the students.

               Holt doesn't consider himself very good with people. The students aggravate him, and the teachers leave him tongue-tied and a little intimidated. He's adopted a gruff exterior to combat his own shyness, and to keep people at arms length.

               He sort of enjoys lying to students when they start asking questions. What am I going? Why, I'm killing a vicious Kudzu vine. They eat students if you let them get to big, you know. This particular vine here ate one of the crows just yesterday. If it gets you, jump up and down and yell, so you can startle it away.

               Holt spends a great deal of time in the greenhouse, starting and caring for plants, and partaking in the hobby of reading gardening magazines. Not that he agrees with most of the articles because after all, he's found that if you plant extras for the bugs, and give them a stern talking to, they'll leave your tomatoes alone. And you shouldn't be ground planting non-native ornamentals in the first place, they're not good for the local fauna. It's a disgrace, really. Not that he doesn't have his own fair share of ornamental plants, he just keeps them in pots where they can't escape.

               He was offered living quarters within the school, but living surrounded on all sides by that much stone makes him uncomfortable. Instead, he lives in a small cottage at the back of the greenhouse.





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Edited by Professor Spokes, Apr 12 2011, 08:40 PM.
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