froggings_
Settling in Altera
1. What is your Minecraft username?
froggings_
2. How old are you?
17
3. What country are you from? What is your timezone?
U.S., 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?
An abuse of the system; using OOC knowledge that your character wouldn’t know of otherwise to their advantage, and overstepping and lacking to acknowledge the actions of another player in order to perform your action, respectively.
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?
I’ve recently started running a Dungeons and Dragons campaign after only playing in one (and a half--long story) previous campaigns, and the first session seemed to go pretty well. I’ve dabbled in fantasy roleplay in Discord with some friends and I really enjoyed that. More specifically, it was sort of steampunk themed, and it only fell off around big exam times. I have a small farm of 23 animals (chickens, quails, rabbits), and that’s where I go to relax and be in the moment, away from my computer. I just appreciate the world of roleplaying, and have and always will be a fantasy lover.
8. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
My friend had been on the server years ago, and he recommended it to me this summer because it seemed “up my alley,” and he is also wanting to return to the server.
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Character Name:
Blur Nuntonte
Character Age:
19
Character Race:
Southern Sangrian Human
Appearance:
Tanned skin, emerald green eyes, dirty blonde hair down to his shoulders with a bandana covering the top of his head, gray viking pants, dark brown/black tunic, short gray cloak, strongish build from farm work (not to the level of someone playing sports, but still fit)
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
Written Test!
Blur wakes up every morning with the crashing of the waves. They seem to grow louder and louder to puncture through his sleep and remind him that a day awaits. A day of farming and watching the sports on the beach, but a day nonetheless. He ties his bandana over his head and stretches, feeling the sun coming through the windows. The waves are his music; humming background noise; a constant temptation to break from his work and go compete in water sports with all of his friends. But it’s the peak of the farming season, and the peaks pay the prettier penny. After the money’s made, then he’ll have time to win.
Blur’s confidence is at its height when he’s competing, and why wouldn’t it be? He’s a star, a clever one, and there’s no one to bash at his cockiness after watching him play. He’s started to make a name for himself with the sailors that come in once his farming season is over, which he boasts in the bars at night. His nights at the bars boast his money, too: Blur farms at all the right times, sells to all the right people, and hikes up the prices just right; years of mistakes have created this position. He’s been working since he was a kid, encouraged by his parents to learn his own lessons (with their savings to back up his biggest mistakes, of course). But that process of learning how to find and sell made him known, likeable, and appear easy-going. THAT Cool Guy.
But underneath it all is a thick wall of patience. One that has been built stone by stone through all of his mistakes; where he’s fallen prey to manipulation and trickery. It’s what keeps him calm when the sounds of the sports competitions grow louder than the squeak of his wheelbarrow. When he watches his friends move up north with little money and no second thought. When he sees people void of routine and not trying to upkeep their known success. One that has prevented his recklessness, suppressed it behind a smile and wave, behind a game face in competition. His recklessness begins in dreams, then bubbles up until the wall smashes it down. The dreamer’s way is the easiest way, and the least achievable in his observations. Blur’s dreams have grown stronger and more vivid; a life at sea and only at sea, a full time athlete, moving up north to achieve success. All of which he remembers in the morning and all of which he tries to push away with a stretch, with a tie of a bandana. It’s been a long time since he chose to do something that he would later regret. Too long, he knows. It feels like luck and not willpower, at this point.
froggings_
2. How old are you?
17
3. What country are you from? What is your timezone?
U.S., 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?
An abuse of the system; using OOC knowledge that your character wouldn’t know of otherwise to their advantage, and overstepping and lacking to acknowledge the actions of another player in order to perform your action, respectively.
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?
I’ve recently started running a Dungeons and Dragons campaign after only playing in one (and a half--long story) previous campaigns, and the first session seemed to go pretty well. I’ve dabbled in fantasy roleplay in Discord with some friends and I really enjoyed that. More specifically, it was sort of steampunk themed, and it only fell off around big exam times. I have a small farm of 23 animals (chickens, quails, rabbits), and that’s where I go to relax and be in the moment, away from my computer. I just appreciate the world of roleplaying, and have and always will be a fantasy lover.
8. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
My friend had been on the server years ago, and he recommended it to me this summer because it seemed “up my alley,” and he is also wanting to return to the server.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Character Name:
Blur Nuntonte
Character Age:
19
Character Race:
Southern Sangrian Human
Appearance:
Tanned skin, emerald green eyes, dirty blonde hair down to his shoulders with a bandana covering the top of his head, gray viking pants, dark brown/black tunic, short gray cloak, strongish build from farm work (not to the level of someone playing sports, but still fit)
(Optional) Picture of the Skin:
Written Test!
Blur wakes up every morning with the crashing of the waves. They seem to grow louder and louder to puncture through his sleep and remind him that a day awaits. A day of farming and watching the sports on the beach, but a day nonetheless. He ties his bandana over his head and stretches, feeling the sun coming through the windows. The waves are his music; humming background noise; a constant temptation to break from his work and go compete in water sports with all of his friends. But it’s the peak of the farming season, and the peaks pay the prettier penny. After the money’s made, then he’ll have time to win.
Blur’s confidence is at its height when he’s competing, and why wouldn’t it be? He’s a star, a clever one, and there’s no one to bash at his cockiness after watching him play. He’s started to make a name for himself with the sailors that come in once his farming season is over, which he boasts in the bars at night. His nights at the bars boast his money, too: Blur farms at all the right times, sells to all the right people, and hikes up the prices just right; years of mistakes have created this position. He’s been working since he was a kid, encouraged by his parents to learn his own lessons (with their savings to back up his biggest mistakes, of course). But that process of learning how to find and sell made him known, likeable, and appear easy-going. THAT Cool Guy.
But underneath it all is a thick wall of patience. One that has been built stone by stone through all of his mistakes; where he’s fallen prey to manipulation and trickery. It’s what keeps him calm when the sounds of the sports competitions grow louder than the squeak of his wheelbarrow. When he watches his friends move up north with little money and no second thought. When he sees people void of routine and not trying to upkeep their known success. One that has prevented his recklessness, suppressed it behind a smile and wave, behind a game face in competition. His recklessness begins in dreams, then bubbles up until the wall smashes it down. The dreamer’s way is the easiest way, and the least achievable in his observations. Blur’s dreams have grown stronger and more vivid; a life at sea and only at sea, a full time athlete, moving up north to achieve success. All of which he remembers in the morning and all of which he tries to push away with a stretch, with a tie of a bandana. It’s been a long time since he chose to do something that he would later regret. Too long, he knows. It feels like luck and not willpower, at this point.
