Normir
Villager
The Whitelist Application Form:
About You!
1. What is your Minecraft username?
Normir
2. How old are you?
19, turning twenty soon.
3. What country are you from?
I am from the USA.
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
Yes! A bit lengthy, but not too bad.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming consists of using OOC knowledge while in an in-character state. Powergaming would be attempting to roleplay such that only the option you describe is possible, ex: " strikes your head, knocking you out instantly" - powergaming takes control of the characters of others.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
Nooope.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Ayda! Says they're a staff member too.
8. Tell us about yourself!
I'm a 19 year old guy, and I am currently a teacher. I was hired without a degree, and I teach a violin/viola studio, as well as play the viola professionally. I have two dogs, both dachshunds. I thoroughly enjoy music and fantasy - both for the reason that they are an active escape and I find that quite important most of the time.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
A few, but they all involve my likeness, name, or location, so I'll keep those private, for now at least.
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
No referral. Just careful googling.
About Your Character!
This section is about the character you intend to use once you join the server.We ask that new players follow these guidelines during this portion of the application:
Character Name:
Normir (My character name happens to be a preferred name)
Character Age:
26 years.
Character Race:
Sangrian human!
Appearance:
Dark/dirty blonde hair, green eyes, wearing a cream colored shirt, matching scarlet-colored knit hat and scarf, and a smith's apron and chaps. Light/pale complexion and a thinner, athletic build. Roughly 5'10". Palms are bleached whiter than the rest of his body due to scar tissue in the area from a childhood accident involving hot metal and a bucket of lye.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
N/A
Written Test!
As I walked about, I found myself feeling that familiar feeling - the kind of wistfulness and restless want for something else. Independence, maybe. Growing up in the North, I was used to a life of hard work, so my upbringing was quite utilitarian. I was used to finding things like bricks, stone, thatch, all somewhat beautiful. I was used to simple little joys being powerful for how they came about, not how much they cost. Mayhap that’s what made me romanticize going off on my own - the love of how I could make my own life come about. I wanted to learn what was fully essential to life, so I strapped what little I had to my back, took a few personal, sentimental items, and left my family’s homestead with the intention of returning to invite those I knew to see how I was my own man, or perhaps with a different point of view.
At least that’s what I was thinking when donned my hat and scarf, and cinched the collar on my shirt. A few humble steps was all it took, and poof. I was away on my own adventure, leaving just as unassuming as I had come into the world.
The snow outside our little stead was damn cold. Those that live near Halbed know snow. Not seasonal snow, but the kind of snow that is hard like sandy glass. The sort of snow that cuts you the way flying sand might, but doesn’t leave enough feeling for you to know you’ve been cut. Frozen land is also home to an unlikely, insulating, saving friend: also snow.
We wear waxed clothing much of the time - it doesn’t soak with water or melting snow. The more I traveled, the more my waxed shell became an insulated blanket of a strange cold warmth. I can’t remember how far I walked, only that it was hours. The weather bore down on me late in the evening, so I pulled from my pack what would be necessary for sleep and shelter - a tarpaulin to stake over the snow for myself, the woven blankets strapped to my frame (and thank Jax for them - thick blankets are everything to keep one warm on a blowing night), a loosely woven mat upon which to sleep, and a shovel. A shovel to dig my temporary home in the snowdrifts. I got to work, and dug my height into the snow, and stretched my tarp over the hole. I laid my mat in the bottom, and prepared my bedroll, after stripping my waxed outer shell.
I don’t even remember laying down, only waking up to the winter sun lighting my shelter like an amber stained-glass room through my tarp. That and how bundled I was looking at my snowy, color-cast shelter. Woven blankets must have been an unrecorded gift from Jax. I quickly broke camp and started again. Southbound I walked, hopefully to make my own life soon enough.
About You!
1. What is your Minecraft username?
Normir
2. How old are you?
19, turning twenty soon.
3. What country are you from?
I am from the USA.
4. Have you read the King's Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides yet?
Yes! A bit lengthy, but not too bad.
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming consists of using OOC knowledge while in an in-character state. Powergaming would be attempting to roleplay such that only the option you describe is possible, ex: " strikes your head, knocking you out instantly" - powergaming takes control of the characters of others.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
Nooope.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Ayda! Says they're a staff member too.
8. Tell us about yourself!
I'm a 19 year old guy, and I am currently a teacher. I was hired without a degree, and I teach a violin/viola studio, as well as play the viola professionally. I have two dogs, both dachshunds. I thoroughly enjoy music and fantasy - both for the reason that they are an active escape and I find that quite important most of the time.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
A few, but they all involve my likeness, name, or location, so I'll keep those private, for now at least.
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
No referral. Just careful googling.
About Your Character!
This section is about the character you intend to use once you join the server.We ask that new players follow these guidelines during this portion of the application:
Character Name:
Normir (My character name happens to be a preferred name)
Character Age:
26 years.
Character Race:
Sangrian human!
Appearance:
Dark/dirty blonde hair, green eyes, wearing a cream colored shirt, matching scarlet-colored knit hat and scarf, and a smith's apron and chaps. Light/pale complexion and a thinner, athletic build. Roughly 5'10". Palms are bleached whiter than the rest of his body due to scar tissue in the area from a childhood accident involving hot metal and a bucket of lye.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
N/A
Written Test!
As I walked about, I found myself feeling that familiar feeling - the kind of wistfulness and restless want for something else. Independence, maybe. Growing up in the North, I was used to a life of hard work, so my upbringing was quite utilitarian. I was used to finding things like bricks, stone, thatch, all somewhat beautiful. I was used to simple little joys being powerful for how they came about, not how much they cost. Mayhap that’s what made me romanticize going off on my own - the love of how I could make my own life come about. I wanted to learn what was fully essential to life, so I strapped what little I had to my back, took a few personal, sentimental items, and left my family’s homestead with the intention of returning to invite those I knew to see how I was my own man, or perhaps with a different point of view.
At least that’s what I was thinking when donned my hat and scarf, and cinched the collar on my shirt. A few humble steps was all it took, and poof. I was away on my own adventure, leaving just as unassuming as I had come into the world.
The snow outside our little stead was damn cold. Those that live near Halbed know snow. Not seasonal snow, but the kind of snow that is hard like sandy glass. The sort of snow that cuts you the way flying sand might, but doesn’t leave enough feeling for you to know you’ve been cut. Frozen land is also home to an unlikely, insulating, saving friend: also snow.
We wear waxed clothing much of the time - it doesn’t soak with water or melting snow. The more I traveled, the more my waxed shell became an insulated blanket of a strange cold warmth. I can’t remember how far I walked, only that it was hours. The weather bore down on me late in the evening, so I pulled from my pack what would be necessary for sleep and shelter - a tarpaulin to stake over the snow for myself, the woven blankets strapped to my frame (and thank Jax for them - thick blankets are everything to keep one warm on a blowing night), a loosely woven mat upon which to sleep, and a shovel. A shovel to dig my temporary home in the snowdrifts. I got to work, and dug my height into the snow, and stretched my tarp over the hole. I laid my mat in the bottom, and prepared my bedroll, after stripping my waxed outer shell.
I don’t even remember laying down, only waking up to the winter sun lighting my shelter like an amber stained-glass room through my tarp. That and how bundled I was looking at my snowy, color-cast shelter. Woven blankets must have been an unrecorded gift from Jax. I quickly broke camp and started again. Southbound I walked, hopefully to make my own life soon enough.
