AionNefelibata
Villager
(i hope this is the right place to post)
1. What is your Minecraft username?
AionNefelibata
2. How old are you?
24
3. What country are you from?
Italy
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 incorporating into the gameplay information the Player knows but the character couldn't, like information of position of another player in the map, maye overheard over discord, and the character reacting to that information and changing its course accordingly. Powergaming is basically roleplaying a demigod who always wins, or roleplaying for example a cult of people out of nowhere instead of creating actual rp relationships with other players to make the cult base.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
Nope
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Tiberione
8. Tell us about yourself!
Hi! Im Aion, i like the ocean, the color indigo, R&B music and Ambient music, Stellaris (boy, i cant wait for the leGuin update), got two cuties of cats. I like roleplaying characters full of curiosity,
often scientists, rogues, merchants (expecially merchants). Merchants of dyes and cloths are my favourite. But herbalists are nice too. Or sailors, as i said i love the sea. Maybe sailing merchant would be a nice middle ground. Im a bit new to this, and cant wait to see if the shoe fits.Id describe myself as always trying to make the best from a bad situation, i tend to always smooth out drama wherever i find it, because i hate it. Confrontation should never degenerate out of corteous dialogue.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
No luck, i do draw but cant manage to scan any of it.
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
to be honest i found you guys from a video on youtube, a compilation of rp servers.
About Your Character!
Character Name:
Aion (Nefelibata, it means cloud walker, a nickname)
Character Age:
20
Character Race:
Human
Appearance:
She is a thin but not scrawny figure, her hair is almost a buzzcut in the back and long to the chin in the front. Its obvious she did this herself, because expecially in the back its a bit uneven. Her eyes are of a dark uninteresting brown. She wouldnt stand out from a crowd if it wasnt for her tattoo, which is often covered up anyway. It takes almost all of her back, shoulders and hips, starting from the base of her hair to the top of her bottom. It looks like a simple design, the pattern you would find on a mackerel, dark blue on indigo, breaking off at the edges (turing pattern). She usually dresses in browns and blacks when in a place she doesnt feel at home, or the first days in a new city or town. Apart from some peasant clothes (literally two shirts, a pair of throusers and a plain long skirt) the only other piece of clothing is a deep indigo duster. Its her most priced possession and almost never wears it if not to show off.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Written Test!
It was not exactly easy to find someone who could help her, but the quest was clear.
A needle, a color, a shape. And an impending sense of urgency. This is the imagery she woke up from, one hot day of late summer. Before even greeting her mother at the morning table, in a feverish blur she was out of the door. Who could help her? She had seen some sailors that sported colored skin, but she never heard of someone in town who could do the magic they seem to possess. In her life she had never shad tattoos explained to her, as she lived in a small town near the ocean, that seldom saw the amenities and colorful folks of bigger cities. And sure the town didnt have a tattooer.
She ended up at the Overlook Cliff, after roaming aimlessly the town. What was she thinking! And yet that sense of urgency didnt leave her.
She fell on her knees, distraught. The dream was clear. A needle, deep blue pigment and....
What intricate design, she thought, so fluid, like the waves beneath her, but in places like the horns of the coral.And this sense of immense space, like a light drawing her like a magnet to the horizon.
She came down from the windswept crest of the cliff, unsure and lost in her thoughts. Wow, two nights ago it really stormed alright, she noted, as the path she usually took to come down from her favourite spot with the seagulls seemed thrashed. An already unstable tree had even fallen to the carved steps that led the way to the beach, through the thicket. A lesser traversed path catched her eye. Had she ever gone down that path before? She must have, she knew that side of the cliff quite well, and yet. Well all rivers go to the sea she thought, lets follow this one today.
It didnt take long to realize that path run parallel to the edge of the beach, the blue of the waves, now darkened by the past storm, always poking between the trees. And right there, hidden from the direct sight of the town, sprinkled with seagull nests, stood a crooked house, small, almost trying its best not to take space.
At first she didnt think the house was inhabited, and so she casually got close and sat on one of the crooked deck chairs that the weather hadnt been very kind to.
The fright that she had when a pan missed her head by a ghost's hair. A fright that seemed perfectly mirrored by the actual inhabitant of the premises, a stout, grey haired old woman. Hard to say who yelled the loudest. Ironically the both where more startled by the sound of the actual pan clanging against the cobblestone than by the other.
And you would expect Aion to run away at that point, but the situation was so surreal and unexpected that she stood there with an expression of stupor, betrayal for some reason, and horror, in the 'what the fuck' of it all.
On the other side of the door stood an equally surprised woman, which, to Aion's surprise, was sporting herself a full sleeve of tattoos. A siren, waves, a raging monster with the head of a dog and the body of a seal, the fins of a lionfish and the tail of a dolfin hugged her now flaccid bicep, half covered by the flap of her showl.
The stare between the two held, as Aion's gaze danced back and forth between the raised arm that a second before probably held the now thrown pan, the sleeve, with its ornated wavy patterns and the face of the woman itself. Fact that the woman seemed to notice.
She straighten'd up, as much as her age would allow, raised her chin in pride and run her eyes across the tense figure of the 20 year old intruder.
She raised an eyebrow: "Tea?"
A friendship was born.
1. What is your Minecraft username?
AionNefelibata
2. How old are you?
24
3. What country are you from?
Italy
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 incorporating into the gameplay information the Player knows but the character couldn't, like information of position of another player in the map, maye overheard over discord, and the character reacting to that information and changing its course accordingly. Powergaming is basically roleplaying a demigod who always wins, or roleplaying for example a cult of people out of nowhere instead of creating actual rp relationships with other players to make the cult base.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
Nope
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Tiberione
8. Tell us about yourself!
Hi! Im Aion, i like the ocean, the color indigo, R&B music and Ambient music, Stellaris (boy, i cant wait for the leGuin update), got two cuties of cats. I like roleplaying characters full of curiosity,
often scientists, rogues, merchants (expecially merchants). Merchants of dyes and cloths are my favourite. But herbalists are nice too. Or sailors, as i said i love the sea. Maybe sailing merchant would be a nice middle ground. Im a bit new to this, and cant wait to see if the shoe fits.Id describe myself as always trying to make the best from a bad situation, i tend to always smooth out drama wherever i find it, because i hate it. Confrontation should never degenerate out of corteous dialogue.
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
No luck, i do draw but cant manage to scan any of it.
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
to be honest i found you guys from a video on youtube, a compilation of rp servers.
About Your Character!
Character Name:
Aion (Nefelibata, it means cloud walker, a nickname)
Character Age:
20
Character Race:
Human
Appearance:
She is a thin but not scrawny figure, her hair is almost a buzzcut in the back and long to the chin in the front. Its obvious she did this herself, because expecially in the back its a bit uneven. Her eyes are of a dark uninteresting brown. She wouldnt stand out from a crowd if it wasnt for her tattoo, which is often covered up anyway. It takes almost all of her back, shoulders and hips, starting from the base of her hair to the top of her bottom. It looks like a simple design, the pattern you would find on a mackerel, dark blue on indigo, breaking off at the edges (turing pattern). She usually dresses in browns and blacks when in a place she doesnt feel at home, or the first days in a new city or town. Apart from some peasant clothes (literally two shirts, a pair of throusers and a plain long skirt) the only other piece of clothing is a deep indigo duster. Its her most priced possession and almost never wears it if not to show off.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Written Test!
It was not exactly easy to find someone who could help her, but the quest was clear.
A needle, a color, a shape. And an impending sense of urgency. This is the imagery she woke up from, one hot day of late summer. Before even greeting her mother at the morning table, in a feverish blur she was out of the door. Who could help her? She had seen some sailors that sported colored skin, but she never heard of someone in town who could do the magic they seem to possess. In her life she had never shad tattoos explained to her, as she lived in a small town near the ocean, that seldom saw the amenities and colorful folks of bigger cities. And sure the town didnt have a tattooer.
She ended up at the Overlook Cliff, after roaming aimlessly the town. What was she thinking! And yet that sense of urgency didnt leave her.
She fell on her knees, distraught. The dream was clear. A needle, deep blue pigment and....
What intricate design, she thought, so fluid, like the waves beneath her, but in places like the horns of the coral.And this sense of immense space, like a light drawing her like a magnet to the horizon.
She came down from the windswept crest of the cliff, unsure and lost in her thoughts. Wow, two nights ago it really stormed alright, she noted, as the path she usually took to come down from her favourite spot with the seagulls seemed thrashed. An already unstable tree had even fallen to the carved steps that led the way to the beach, through the thicket. A lesser traversed path catched her eye. Had she ever gone down that path before? She must have, she knew that side of the cliff quite well, and yet. Well all rivers go to the sea she thought, lets follow this one today.
It didnt take long to realize that path run parallel to the edge of the beach, the blue of the waves, now darkened by the past storm, always poking between the trees. And right there, hidden from the direct sight of the town, sprinkled with seagull nests, stood a crooked house, small, almost trying its best not to take space.
At first she didnt think the house was inhabited, and so she casually got close and sat on one of the crooked deck chairs that the weather hadnt been very kind to.
The fright that she had when a pan missed her head by a ghost's hair. A fright that seemed perfectly mirrored by the actual inhabitant of the premises, a stout, grey haired old woman. Hard to say who yelled the loudest. Ironically the both where more startled by the sound of the actual pan clanging against the cobblestone than by the other.
And you would expect Aion to run away at that point, but the situation was so surreal and unexpected that she stood there with an expression of stupor, betrayal for some reason, and horror, in the 'what the fuck' of it all.
On the other side of the door stood an equally surprised woman, which, to Aion's surprise, was sporting herself a full sleeve of tattoos. A siren, waves, a raging monster with the head of a dog and the body of a seal, the fins of a lionfish and the tail of a dolfin hugged her now flaccid bicep, half covered by the flap of her showl.
The stare between the two held, as Aion's gaze danced back and forth between the raised arm that a second before probably held the now thrown pan, the sleeve, with its ornated wavy patterns and the face of the woman itself. Fact that the woman seemed to notice.
She straighten'd up, as much as her age would allow, raised her chin in pride and run her eyes across the tense figure of the 20 year old intruder.
She raised an eyebrow: "Tea?"
A friendship was born.
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