- Pronouns
- She/Her, They/Them
IamBlackRose
Villager
{Introduction Section}
Minecraft Username: IamBlackRose
Age: 22
Country & Timezone: United Kingdom (GMT/BST)
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is using information that the player has gained to influence knowledge of an event or upcoming event to the character's advantage. Such as somehow knowing a dark secret that the character wouldn't know. Powergaming is somewhat similar, but involves using the character as if they cannot possibly fail. Or like they can hit any/every attack.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: Hi, I am Blackrose (Who'd have thunk?) And I've been an RP'er since around 2015/16. It's hard to remember sometimes. I started back then on a came called starbound, and have since moved to discord RP. This will be my first real foray into in-game RP since then, so let's hope I can do well
. Otherwise, I'm a slight weeb, and only somewhat addicted to games. RP has been a big influence on my life, and I'm glad to have started it all those years ago!
Referral: Wake (Say hi for me)
________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Anya [No given Surname]
Age: 16
Race: Human (Boring, I know)
Appearance: Her hair is a Dirty blonde colour (Mainly from years of lack of care, her true hair colour is a lovely wheat-field blonde.) While her eyes shine a bright and innocent blue. The look in her eyes is more often than not framed by an almost sad expression constantly, but ends up appearing more flat and expressionless. Her clothing is made up of a somewhat ragged set of leather trousers, several sizes too large for her, and what could only really be described as a potato sack covering her top. Having been dropped off from her ship, she is left alone in this crazy, scary world. Without the ability to read, write, nothing. She remains severely malnourished, and pale. Her wrists have a ring of red to them, showing she was once in chains, or something similar.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin: Attach on the thread
Written Test (Min: 400 words): Creaking is constantly in the air, the wet, warped wood of the ship far from stable enough to last without making one of those loud creaking sounds. You almost wonder if one of these times, something is going to snap. At least that would make things exciting around here. At least, that’s how this girl sees things. Sitting in her corner, watching the sailors eat and drink and make merry. They were always so loud, appeared happy despite the few captives left nearby. They were fit for only the scraps… some water, and that’s about it. And more often than not, the captives would stay quiet about this agreement, for these horrible people make it their life’s work to make a mockery of their prizes and make an example of those who defy them. They all know their place in this place… but one is just a little more desperate. She hasn’t eaten in days… she keeps getting weaker and weaker. Her cheeks gaunt into her skull, and her bones practically on show to the world. They were starving her… she was being held back from the initial scraps of food and is left taking the scraps among the scraps. She doesn’t know why she’s treated this way… but it is her current way of life. Though she doesn’t remember how she ended up in this horrible hell… but she has to find some way to get out. With some word, she lifts herself from her laid-down position, her chains barely rattling from her movements, given she must be so… so very slow. But eventually she sits up… and begins to reach, slowly… while the group is having a joke about some mission at some point in their previous voyages. Not a care in the world is given to the story… and she reaches for the morsel of dropped bread. The other captives behind shy away, refusing to be a part of this… to be punished if she gets caught. But she’s so close… her fingers grasp against it, pushing away. She reaches further to reach it… But a stomp on her arm causes her to cry out in pain, her hand forced open as her muscles recoil. And as she looks up to her attacker, she receives a swift kick to the stomach. With another yelp of pain, Anya is left on her back, and is quickly surrounded by a few of her captors. Her already dazed mind from this doesn’t understand a word they said… but quickly a pair of them drag her up by each arm, them shouting to her to stand up. Her chains are quickly freed from her to her momentary relief. But they keep moving her. Moving her up and out into the blinding light. This is the first time she’s seen light in… gods know how long. But having it now, it’s like a sun has been shone right in her visage, her unable to see anything. But she does hear. Waves, the cawing of birds, the ever-present creaking of the ship. Shouting is heard around her, Anya still unable to pick up much of what is being said… before eventually she is thrown to the floor. Anya gives off a weak grunt of pain as she slams into the hard wooden floor… and as her vision returns, she finds herself at the side of the ship, on her back, halfway off the ship. And with some more gloating and sneering… Anya is once more kicked and sent into the water. The water is cold. The water is… wet. The water drowns out most sound out there… all but that damned creaking. Being so weak already, Anya falls to her drowsiness… and finally takes her rest, just on the surface of the waves… (Only after writing this do I read down below about the lack of violence. If need be, I can rewrite, but I hope my writing is unique enough to bypass this rule. If not, that’s cool, I’ll write something else. This is just the general story of how Anya washes onto shores of Altera)
Minecraft Username: IamBlackRose
Age: 22
Country & Timezone: United Kingdom (GMT/BST)
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is using information that the player has gained to influence knowledge of an event or upcoming event to the character's advantage. Such as somehow knowing a dark secret that the character wouldn't know. Powergaming is somewhat similar, but involves using the character as if they cannot possibly fail. Or like they can hit any/every attack.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: Hi, I am Blackrose (Who'd have thunk?) And I've been an RP'er since around 2015/16. It's hard to remember sometimes. I started back then on a came called starbound, and have since moved to discord RP. This will be my first real foray into in-game RP since then, so let's hope I can do well
. Otherwise, I'm a slight weeb, and only somewhat addicted to games. RP has been a big influence on my life, and I'm glad to have started it all those years ago!Referral: Wake
(Say hi for me)________________________________________
{Character Section}
Character Name: Anya [No given Surname]
Age: 16
Race: Human (Boring, I know)
Appearance: Her hair is a Dirty blonde colour (Mainly from years of lack of care, her true hair colour is a lovely wheat-field blonde.) While her eyes shine a bright and innocent blue. The look in her eyes is more often than not framed by an almost sad expression constantly, but ends up appearing more flat and expressionless. Her clothing is made up of a somewhat ragged set of leather trousers, several sizes too large for her, and what could only really be described as a potato sack covering her top. Having been dropped off from her ship, she is left alone in this crazy, scary world. Without the ability to read, write, nothing. She remains severely malnourished, and pale. Her wrists have a ring of red to them, showing she was once in chains, or something similar.
(Optional) Picture of the Skin: Attach on the thread
Written Test (Min: 400 words): Creaking is constantly in the air, the wet, warped wood of the ship far from stable enough to last without making one of those loud creaking sounds. You almost wonder if one of these times, something is going to snap. At least that would make things exciting around here. At least, that’s how this girl sees things. Sitting in her corner, watching the sailors eat and drink and make merry. They were always so loud, appeared happy despite the few captives left nearby. They were fit for only the scraps… some water, and that’s about it. And more often than not, the captives would stay quiet about this agreement, for these horrible people make it their life’s work to make a mockery of their prizes and make an example of those who defy them. They all know their place in this place… but one is just a little more desperate. She hasn’t eaten in days… she keeps getting weaker and weaker. Her cheeks gaunt into her skull, and her bones practically on show to the world. They were starving her… she was being held back from the initial scraps of food and is left taking the scraps among the scraps. She doesn’t know why she’s treated this way… but it is her current way of life. Though she doesn’t remember how she ended up in this horrible hell… but she has to find some way to get out. With some word, she lifts herself from her laid-down position, her chains barely rattling from her movements, given she must be so… so very slow. But eventually she sits up… and begins to reach, slowly… while the group is having a joke about some mission at some point in their previous voyages. Not a care in the world is given to the story… and she reaches for the morsel of dropped bread. The other captives behind shy away, refusing to be a part of this… to be punished if she gets caught. But she’s so close… her fingers grasp against it, pushing away. She reaches further to reach it… But a stomp on her arm causes her to cry out in pain, her hand forced open as her muscles recoil. And as she looks up to her attacker, she receives a swift kick to the stomach. With another yelp of pain, Anya is left on her back, and is quickly surrounded by a few of her captors. Her already dazed mind from this doesn’t understand a word they said… but quickly a pair of them drag her up by each arm, them shouting to her to stand up. Her chains are quickly freed from her to her momentary relief. But they keep moving her. Moving her up and out into the blinding light. This is the first time she’s seen light in… gods know how long. But having it now, it’s like a sun has been shone right in her visage, her unable to see anything. But she does hear. Waves, the cawing of birds, the ever-present creaking of the ship. Shouting is heard around her, Anya still unable to pick up much of what is being said… before eventually she is thrown to the floor. Anya gives off a weak grunt of pain as she slams into the hard wooden floor… and as her vision returns, she finds herself at the side of the ship, on her back, halfway off the ship. And with some more gloating and sneering… Anya is once more kicked and sent into the water. The water is cold. The water is… wet. The water drowns out most sound out there… all but that damned creaking. Being so weak already, Anya falls to her drowsiness… and finally takes her rest, just on the surface of the waves… (Only after writing this do I read down below about the lack of violence. If need be, I can rewrite, but I hope my writing is unique enough to bypass this rule. If not, that’s cool, I’ll write something else. This is just the general story of how Anya washes onto shores of Altera)
