tobographic
Lord of Altera
tobographic
tobographic's Whitelist App:
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{Introduction Section}
Minecraft Username: tobographic
Age: 21
Country & Timezone: United States / EST
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Powergaming is the ignorance of the baser conduct in roleplay. In essence, it is ignoring the rules, written and unwritten, and forcing your actions on others. Metagaming is the usage of information gained through OOC means in IC contexts. It can also include the carrying of biases against a player over to the treatment or actions made against their character.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: I am tobographic, memorable to some from a long time ago and in a different place. I don't roleplay as much as I used to anymore, but am interested in potentially finding a new revival for the hobby—at least in my own terms. My interests in roleplay stem from my love of the fantasy genre, both low and high, and I have done all types of roleplay, from the scholarly to the knightly. My only wish as a member of a community is to construct a greater world; something that can be looked upon as wholly complete and fully realistic. Outside of MCRP, I am a 21-year-old IT administrator from the US.
Referral: N/A
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{Character Section}
Character Name: Therese
Age: 20
Race: Human
Appearance: Therese, a young woman of relatively modest appearance, stands at five-foot-six. Resembling closely her mother and her grandfather before her, the young woman's wavy locks of short black hair fall in drapes across her shoulders, with a slight olive complexioned flesh covered thereby. She was much like both of her parents, though her grandmother had possessed the pure grey that was inherited by her eyes: lighter than most, and shining almost like silver underneath a bright enough light. Though she now wears simple garb—linen shirts and striped trousers, it would perhaps not be unimaginable to find the girl sporting a suit of armor, or perhaps the uniform of a noble. It is hard to place Therese from her appearance alone.
Picture of the Skin: [link]
Written Test:
The hoofbeats of three horses echoed down the mountain in syncopated beats as their riders were carried near to its apex. A short mountain range—perhaps more consistent with a tall swath of hills, left a short cliffside nestled between two pointed tips. It was for this vantage point that the riders were bound.
Slowing their coursers as they reached the sheer angle, one of the riders remained rearward and did not dare observe the world ahead from such proximity to the drop. The eldest of the travelers, a man of perhaps thirty or forty years with black hair and a blacker beard, gazed outward in pensive thought on the land before them.
Ahead, knolly hills sprawled forth and were dotted with trees and shrubberies for as long as one could dare gaze. Rolling rivers broke into smaller tributaries, wider at first, then growing thinner and immeasurable as they reached the horizon. In truth he could not determine whether they were actually smaller or just harder to see. Nevertheless, his eyes were less inquisitive than the pair to his right.
His riding companion was a younger woman: twenty years was her age, given a best guess, and her eyes were not the worrisome blue of his, but instead a piercing silver as they shone underneath the first godrays of the morning’s sun. Beyond her was a vastness of unfamiliarity, though at no point did she ever seem to lose heart in that observation.
“We are around four days from the nearest road,” came the voice of the man, as gravelly as the path they had taken up the knolls.
The woman only continued to gaze outward.
“And you are sure of this course?” asked the man.
“Verily,” she replied.
The man glowered at this. “To what end?” he questioned. “We have been riding for a month already, without an end in sight,” he was cautious of speaking out of turn, though advised the woman nonetheless. “Your sister grows ever-so-weary,” he then put in.
“Indeed,” the girl replied. “She was not built for this—I realize it now. That is why you will return home with her,” she said with a finality to her tone.
“...I’m sorry?”
She did not reply.
“Surely you must realize that I cannot leave you on your own,” he spoke, though recognized the futility of his words as they slipped from his lips.
“She is still in her youth. Though I am remiss to admit, she needs you more than I,” she spoke clearly before turning to her left to look at him. “One of us must go.”
The man was tense on his horse; he did not like when she became brazen like this. Regardless, he had little choice in the matter, and so offered a short nod. “As you wish, then. I may only advise you caution,” he said and looked at her closely.
“I am nothing if not so,” she replied.
“You are nothing then,” he japed in reply. The girl sneered and looked away.
“You must keep her safe,” she said clearly.
“With my life,” he replied.
She nodded.
There was a silence between them for some several seconds as they returned to looking across the world in front of them. Eventually the man took to the reins of his mount and began to turn away, where the knolls fell downward and led back into the woods behind him.
“Be safe, Jorren,” she said without turning.
“And you, Therese,” he replied and led off.
Behind them, a girl blonde of hair was sitting upon her horse, neglecting to look across the cliffside. The man made to her side and spoke with her for a moment. Eyes that were as silver as her sisters looked up to the woman on the clifftop, but she said nothing. After a silence, she turned her courser, and she came down the mountain with the man by her side.
So then only one remained. Looking still on the new world below her, Jorren’s words were repeated in her head: To what end?—The question was not so simply answered.
“To every end,” Therese said finally, and began to descend the mountaintop.
________________________________________
{Introduction Section}
Minecraft Username: tobographic
Age: 21
Country & Timezone: United States / EST
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Powergaming is the ignorance of the baser conduct in roleplay. In essence, it is ignoring the rules, written and unwritten, and forcing your actions on others. Metagaming is the usage of information gained through OOC means in IC contexts. It can also include the carrying of biases against a player over to the treatment or actions made against their character.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: I am tobographic, memorable to some from a long time ago and in a different place. I don't roleplay as much as I used to anymore, but am interested in potentially finding a new revival for the hobby—at least in my own terms. My interests in roleplay stem from my love of the fantasy genre, both low and high, and I have done all types of roleplay, from the scholarly to the knightly. My only wish as a member of a community is to construct a greater world; something that can be looked upon as wholly complete and fully realistic. Outside of MCRP, I am a 21-year-old IT administrator from the US.
Referral: N/A
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Therese
Age: 20
Race: Human
Appearance: Therese, a young woman of relatively modest appearance, stands at five-foot-six. Resembling closely her mother and her grandfather before her, the young woman's wavy locks of short black hair fall in drapes across her shoulders, with a slight olive complexioned flesh covered thereby. She was much like both of her parents, though her grandmother had possessed the pure grey that was inherited by her eyes: lighter than most, and shining almost like silver underneath a bright enough light. Though she now wears simple garb—linen shirts and striped trousers, it would perhaps not be unimaginable to find the girl sporting a suit of armor, or perhaps the uniform of a noble. It is hard to place Therese from her appearance alone.
Picture of the Skin: [link]
Written Test:
The hoofbeats of three horses echoed down the mountain in syncopated beats as their riders were carried near to its apex. A short mountain range—perhaps more consistent with a tall swath of hills, left a short cliffside nestled between two pointed tips. It was for this vantage point that the riders were bound.
Slowing their coursers as they reached the sheer angle, one of the riders remained rearward and did not dare observe the world ahead from such proximity to the drop. The eldest of the travelers, a man of perhaps thirty or forty years with black hair and a blacker beard, gazed outward in pensive thought on the land before them.
Ahead, knolly hills sprawled forth and were dotted with trees and shrubberies for as long as one could dare gaze. Rolling rivers broke into smaller tributaries, wider at first, then growing thinner and immeasurable as they reached the horizon. In truth he could not determine whether they were actually smaller or just harder to see. Nevertheless, his eyes were less inquisitive than the pair to his right.
His riding companion was a younger woman: twenty years was her age, given a best guess, and her eyes were not the worrisome blue of his, but instead a piercing silver as they shone underneath the first godrays of the morning’s sun. Beyond her was a vastness of unfamiliarity, though at no point did she ever seem to lose heart in that observation.
“We are around four days from the nearest road,” came the voice of the man, as gravelly as the path they had taken up the knolls.
The woman only continued to gaze outward.
“And you are sure of this course?” asked the man.
“Verily,” she replied.
The man glowered at this. “To what end?” he questioned. “We have been riding for a month already, without an end in sight,” he was cautious of speaking out of turn, though advised the woman nonetheless. “Your sister grows ever-so-weary,” he then put in.
“Indeed,” the girl replied. “She was not built for this—I realize it now. That is why you will return home with her,” she said with a finality to her tone.
“...I’m sorry?”
She did not reply.
“Surely you must realize that I cannot leave you on your own,” he spoke, though recognized the futility of his words as they slipped from his lips.
“She is still in her youth. Though I am remiss to admit, she needs you more than I,” she spoke clearly before turning to her left to look at him. “One of us must go.”
The man was tense on his horse; he did not like when she became brazen like this. Regardless, he had little choice in the matter, and so offered a short nod. “As you wish, then. I may only advise you caution,” he said and looked at her closely.
“I am nothing if not so,” she replied.
“You are nothing then,” he japed in reply. The girl sneered and looked away.
“You must keep her safe,” she said clearly.
“With my life,” he replied.
She nodded.
There was a silence between them for some several seconds as they returned to looking across the world in front of them. Eventually the man took to the reins of his mount and began to turn away, where the knolls fell downward and led back into the woods behind him.
“Be safe, Jorren,” she said without turning.
“And you, Therese,” he replied and led off.
Behind them, a girl blonde of hair was sitting upon her horse, neglecting to look across the cliffside. The man made to her side and spoke with her for a moment. Eyes that were as silver as her sisters looked up to the woman on the clifftop, but she said nothing. After a silence, she turned her courser, and she came down the mountain with the man by her side.
So then only one remained. Looking still on the new world below her, Jorren’s words were repeated in her head: To what end?—The question was not so simply answered.
“To every end,” Therese said finally, and began to descend the mountaintop.
