Arctic
Villager
The Whitelist Application Form
About You!
1. What is your Minecraft username?
ArcticIceHusky
2. How old are you?
24
3. What country are you from? What is your timezone?
United States, EST
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
Yes.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming is using information obtained externally to influence a character's actions, despite that character having no reasonable way to have come about that information. An example of this could be a player attacking another for an item they stole IC, despite their character only knowing that a break-in occurred and not who committed it.
Powergaming is purposefully playing a character to get as strong as possible as fast as possible, or can be understood as actively disallowing other players to interact or RP in a way the desire. An example of this might be telling other players how they feel toward your character, or demanding their character acts a certain way without so much as a save
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
No.
7. Tell us about yourself! Do you have any examples of your work?
Hello! I'm Arc, and I've been RPing on and off for the better part of 10 years now. I don't enjoy talking about myself much, but I like your standard host of video games and TTRPG systems. After about half a year from actively RPing, I was looking to get back into the swing of things with the server. I work most days so my presence tends to be a light touch. I don't have much to say, espousing even this much publically feels invasive if I'm honest.
8. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
I was referred by Tyinyk.
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Character Name:
Devotion (Alias)
Character Age:
28
Character Race:
Human
Appearance:
Devotion is fair-skinned, though she keeps most of it well-covered in layers of leather and deep blue cloak. She keeps her chocolate brown hair short and in a tight ponytail behind her head. A worn mask with fading paint sits on her face, a veil hanging down to further obscure what isn't outright covered.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
Written Test!
The woman breathed quietly. Her brow furrowed. Her knees hurt, her cloak was hot, and a bead of sweat slipped its way uncomfortably down her nose between the mask and her skin. Despite this she did not move, her hands remaining folded and her back hunched in her kneel before the statue of her prayers. Her hair came loose, the time spent bent over pulling it from her braid to fall in front of her mask. She resisted the urge to wipe it back into place, knowing no motion would be acceptable. And so she kept her mind at ease, two decades of determination and focus backing her ability to prevent her mind from wandering. The time she spent here was irrelevant, the aches of her body naught more than weakness of a temporary form. Her church felt expansive around her, the endless silence producing a rising tone in her ears. Her faith let these temporary discomforts slide past her, their whining demands to be fixed ignored until their intensity faded into acclimation. Her thoughts remained as steady and focused as her breathing, an ever-long memorized prayer repeating itself despite every distraction that had been thrown at her. She silently completed the prose and waited two heartbeats before she began again, projecting her faith as shelter from her aches and the distractions of her own biology.
A door opened behind her, the old creaks of the wood another stimulus ignored by the woman. Quiet conversation echoed through the empty church, too far away to understand but deafeningly loud compared to the silence she had been engrossed by for so long. There was a shuffle of clothing as their conversation ended, the old tall wooden doors creaking shut as footsteps clicked across the smooth stone floor toward her. She didn’t move even as the figure stopped beside her, nor did she flinch as their hand touched her shoulder. The Archbishop spoke.
“You’ve done well in your vigil, Acolyte.”
She did not respond.
“I have spoken to the Priest, who has spoken to the one before and so on, as all have watched over you through your night alone.”
She did not move from her position.
“You speak little, you move less. Your grandiose fidelity has not gone unnoticed, and your final test is complete. Stand before me.”
Finally, she moved. A night alone, locked in prayer, left her aching. She voiced no complaints as her body screamed out, the agony striking her as she moved, and loudly imitated the large wood door she had as her only sensory company. She stood upright before the Archbishop, slowly raising her head to look at him. He placed his thumb through a maroon powder, wiping it down and over the eyes of her mask in two quick swipes.
“From here forth, you are forever welcome as a champion of our cause, a Paladin of our faith. For your insurmountable will and unwavering adherence to our ways, you will be known to us—as Devotion.”
About You!
1. What is your Minecraft username?
ArcticIceHusky
2. How old are you?
24
3. What country are you from? What is your timezone?
United States, EST
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
Yes.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming is using information obtained externally to influence a character's actions, despite that character having no reasonable way to have come about that information. An example of this could be a player attacking another for an item they stole IC, despite their character only knowing that a break-in occurred and not who committed it.
Powergaming is purposefully playing a character to get as strong as possible as fast as possible, or can be understood as actively disallowing other players to interact or RP in a way the desire. An example of this might be telling other players how they feel toward your character, or demanding their character acts a certain way without so much as a save
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
No.
7. Tell us about yourself! Do you have any examples of your work?
Hello! I'm Arc, and I've been RPing on and off for the better part of 10 years now. I don't enjoy talking about myself much, but I like your standard host of video games and TTRPG systems. After about half a year from actively RPing, I was looking to get back into the swing of things with the server. I work most days so my presence tends to be a light touch. I don't have much to say, espousing even this much publically feels invasive if I'm honest.
8. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
I was referred by Tyinyk.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Character Name:
Devotion (Alias)
Character Age:
28
Character Race:
Human
Appearance:
Devotion is fair-skinned, though she keeps most of it well-covered in layers of leather and deep blue cloak. She keeps her chocolate brown hair short and in a tight ponytail behind her head. A worn mask with fading paint sits on her face, a veil hanging down to further obscure what isn't outright covered.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
Written Test!
The woman breathed quietly. Her brow furrowed. Her knees hurt, her cloak was hot, and a bead of sweat slipped its way uncomfortably down her nose between the mask and her skin. Despite this she did not move, her hands remaining folded and her back hunched in her kneel before the statue of her prayers. Her hair came loose, the time spent bent over pulling it from her braid to fall in front of her mask. She resisted the urge to wipe it back into place, knowing no motion would be acceptable. And so she kept her mind at ease, two decades of determination and focus backing her ability to prevent her mind from wandering. The time she spent here was irrelevant, the aches of her body naught more than weakness of a temporary form. Her church felt expansive around her, the endless silence producing a rising tone in her ears. Her faith let these temporary discomforts slide past her, their whining demands to be fixed ignored until their intensity faded into acclimation. Her thoughts remained as steady and focused as her breathing, an ever-long memorized prayer repeating itself despite every distraction that had been thrown at her. She silently completed the prose and waited two heartbeats before she began again, projecting her faith as shelter from her aches and the distractions of her own biology.
A door opened behind her, the old creaks of the wood another stimulus ignored by the woman. Quiet conversation echoed through the empty church, too far away to understand but deafeningly loud compared to the silence she had been engrossed by for so long. There was a shuffle of clothing as their conversation ended, the old tall wooden doors creaking shut as footsteps clicked across the smooth stone floor toward her. She didn’t move even as the figure stopped beside her, nor did she flinch as their hand touched her shoulder. The Archbishop spoke.
“You’ve done well in your vigil, Acolyte.”
She did not respond.
“I have spoken to the Priest, who has spoken to the one before and so on, as all have watched over you through your night alone.”
She did not move from her position.
“You speak little, you move less. Your grandiose fidelity has not gone unnoticed, and your final test is complete. Stand before me.”
Finally, she moved. A night alone, locked in prayer, left her aching. She voiced no complaints as her body screamed out, the agony striking her as she moved, and loudly imitated the large wood door she had as her only sensory company. She stood upright before the Archbishop, slowly raising her head to look at him. He placed his thumb through a maroon powder, wiping it down and over the eyes of her mask in two quick swipes.
“From here forth, you are forever welcome as a champion of our cause, a Paladin of our faith. For your insurmountable will and unwavering adherence to our ways, you will be known to us—as Devotion.”
