Fishymatt
Lord of Altera
{Introduction Section}
Minecraft Username: Fishymatt
Age: 23
Country & Timezone: UK - GMT
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is the use of knowledge out of character to influence a character's decisions/actions within roleplay. Powergaming is forcing actions within roleplay onto other characters without giving them a chance to react. For example '*I swing my sword and kill you*'
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: I actually roleplayed here on Hollowworld for quite some time a few years ago. I know I could have done a returning whitelist app but since I'm starting fresh I figured I'd go for the regular one. Hope that's okay! I think I was active for about two years and after a long time away I've been missing the server and wanted to come back! I love roleplaying, writing and particularly fantasy. Looking forward to hopefully getting back in and seeing how things have changed!
Referral: As above, I joined here so long ago I don't remember how I found HW!
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Curwyn
Age: 47
Race: Human
Appearance: With fair short, brown hair and scruffy round beard both speckled with grey Curwyn is beginning to show his age. Crows feet adorn his eyes and laugh lines spread out across his brow. Standing at about 5'7" and being fairly slim, it cannot be said that he is an intimidating man either. His clothes are nothing to write home about; a tight fitting sleeveless tunic over a baggy white shirt, he tends to keep the sleeves rolled up so as not to further stain the already dirty cuffs.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin: Attach on the thread
Written Test (Min: 400 words): Curwyn bent down, already on his knees, to press the rather sickly looking tulip into the ground before using his cupped hands as trowels to bury the roots. The aging man had always taken great satisfaction at seeing a wilting flower grow strong again with just a little bit of tender, loving care and he was already smiling to think how the sad, dull petals he saw now would soon be beaming orange like a sunrise. That was the last of the flowers he had lined up to plant in his little garden and so he got to his feet, groaning a little as his back protested to the sudden strain. Curwyn clapped his hands together in a vain attempt to brush off the dirt, but it was a losing battle. Not just his hands but his elbows were caked in mud where he had gone fully prone to reach a particularly difficult part of the flowerbed without stepping on his precious plants. The less said about his clothes the better though it was a miracle the knees of his baggy trousers were only stained brown and not ripped through entirely. He sat himself down in the hammock he had slung between a sturdy tree and a pillow of his home and raised his wooden lute into his lap. He was not a musician by any means but he had read somewhere or other than playing certain notes around flowers helped their development. Was it true? Curwyn had no idea, but perhaps he could find out through a bit of experimenting. He would play the notes to these flowers he had just planted, and the plants on the other side of the house would go without. In truth, the gardener felt quite guilty about treating one set differently from another. While he was too embarrassed to admit it, he often thought of his flowers as - children was a stretch - but at least pets. He didn’t want to be showing favouritism. Curling his fingers awkwardly around the strings of his lute to just barely make the chord he wanted, he played this a few times until he felt satisfied before setting the instrument back down and swinging his legs up into the hammock. Closing his eyes, he felt the hot sun kissing his skin and listened to the birds singing around him. A bumblebee flitted across and landed upon one of the newly planted tulips while the old man began to drift off, quite content with the lazy day’s work.
Minecraft Username: Fishymatt
Age: 23
Country & Timezone: UK - GMT
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is the use of knowledge out of character to influence a character's decisions/actions within roleplay. Powergaming is forcing actions within roleplay onto other characters without giving them a chance to react. For example '*I swing my sword and kill you*'
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: I actually roleplayed here on Hollowworld for quite some time a few years ago. I know I could have done a returning whitelist app but since I'm starting fresh I figured I'd go for the regular one. Hope that's okay! I think I was active for about two years and after a long time away I've been missing the server and wanted to come back! I love roleplaying, writing and particularly fantasy. Looking forward to hopefully getting back in and seeing how things have changed!
Referral: As above, I joined here so long ago I don't remember how I found HW!
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Curwyn
Age: 47
Race: Human
Appearance: With fair short, brown hair and scruffy round beard both speckled with grey Curwyn is beginning to show his age. Crows feet adorn his eyes and laugh lines spread out across his brow. Standing at about 5'7" and being fairly slim, it cannot be said that he is an intimidating man either. His clothes are nothing to write home about; a tight fitting sleeveless tunic over a baggy white shirt, he tends to keep the sleeves rolled up so as not to further stain the already dirty cuffs.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin: Attach on the thread
Written Test (Min: 400 words): Curwyn bent down, already on his knees, to press the rather sickly looking tulip into the ground before using his cupped hands as trowels to bury the roots. The aging man had always taken great satisfaction at seeing a wilting flower grow strong again with just a little bit of tender, loving care and he was already smiling to think how the sad, dull petals he saw now would soon be beaming orange like a sunrise. That was the last of the flowers he had lined up to plant in his little garden and so he got to his feet, groaning a little as his back protested to the sudden strain. Curwyn clapped his hands together in a vain attempt to brush off the dirt, but it was a losing battle. Not just his hands but his elbows were caked in mud where he had gone fully prone to reach a particularly difficult part of the flowerbed without stepping on his precious plants. The less said about his clothes the better though it was a miracle the knees of his baggy trousers were only stained brown and not ripped through entirely. He sat himself down in the hammock he had slung between a sturdy tree and a pillow of his home and raised his wooden lute into his lap. He was not a musician by any means but he had read somewhere or other than playing certain notes around flowers helped their development. Was it true? Curwyn had no idea, but perhaps he could find out through a bit of experimenting. He would play the notes to these flowers he had just planted, and the plants on the other side of the house would go without. In truth, the gardener felt quite guilty about treating one set differently from another. While he was too embarrassed to admit it, he often thought of his flowers as - children was a stretch - but at least pets. He didn’t want to be showing favouritism. Curling his fingers awkwardly around the strings of his lute to just barely make the chord he wanted, he played this a few times until he felt satisfied before setting the instrument back down and swinging his legs up into the hammock. Closing his eyes, he felt the hot sun kissing his skin and listened to the birds singing around him. A bumblebee flitted across and landed upon one of the newly planted tulips while the old man began to drift off, quite content with the lazy day’s work.
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