SimicBrewery
Villager
________________________________________ {Introduction Section} Minecraft Username: Ace_28 Age: 19 Country & Timezone: (UTC-06:00) Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is using IRL information gathered in IC interactions to gain an unfair advantage Powergaming is Roleplaying like your god, to not let others get a word/action in, and just assuming they'd do something cause you said I.e "I cut through X's armor like butter" rather than "I swing at X's armor" and waiting for a reaction post Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No Tell us about yourself!: Names Simic or Aiden, I'm an enlisted Sailor in the US Navy, I play a fair few games, mainly Shooters and MOBA's like League. I listen to a lot of music, focusing mainly on Punk Rap/Punk music. I've been playing dnd for a long time. nearly a decade at this point. I love reading, I have a tendency to read a lot of romantic novels, but my favorite is a manga called Berserk. Referral: I was Refered by Mara Mara#6161, After talking about wanting to play a Sailor esc char. ________________________________________ {Character Section} Character Name: Samson Age: 19 Race: Moor Elf Appearance: Short white French braided hair, adorned with random bits of jewerly. cool purple eyes set in an angular silverly gray face. Loose ankle length pants made out of a gray cloth. and a shirt made out of an old sail. (Optional) Picture of the Skin: Attach on the thread Written Test (Min: 400 words): Samson was sitting in the crows nest. Feet kicked up, fast asleep. The weather was sultry but not quite humid, offering pristine conditions for a light nap in the mid day. His head dipped low as the boat rocked. His job was done till the captain wanted to call the fishing trip. That's all he was, a simple Boatswain mate. Now he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for pirates, but a nap seemed to be more his speed for that lazy afternoon. He was completely deaf to the fisherman below on the deck talking how the weather was shifting, as the rain drops began pelting the young adult, he simply just untied his bandana, covering his face with it, determined to get at least 15 more minutes of sleep. The most important thing to him in that moment. As fisherman and other deck hands made preparation for the fast approaching storm, Samson was snoring away. As the boat began to rock, it wouldn't be till samson was thrown from the crows nest, spilling over the side with the grace of a rockslide. He hit the deck with a deafening cry of rage. Looking around wildly as a few people laughed, others more focused on the task at hand. Samson looks to the horizon before muttering a quick curse, seeing how badly the weather was shifting for them. A nasty storm had brewed right under Samson nose. Such as weather on the coast, he snapped to his feet, helping other deckhands as the storm fast approached. Ignoring the complains from the captain about samsons lack of a warning. They prepared for what really could be the worse storm in a long while. Samson ran as fast as he could below deck, tightening anything he can with the other deck hands, yards of rope and chain thrown around. Before they all crowded below deck, leaving minimal man power above deck to brace the storm. Huddling around a singular candle. Someone passed around a bottle, and they all shared stories of growing up. Samson just saying how he always wanted to be a sailor like everyone, after helping out around the dockyard. The storm would pass without much event, beyond the captain being soaked and yelling at samson, who promptly apologized and climbed the mast to his post, ready to resume the nap so rudely stolen from him by the storm. |
