MapleChirup
Villager
1. What is your Minecraft username?
MapleChirup
2. How old are you?
18
3. What country are you from?
Canada
4. Have you read the King's Law, Tome of Citizenship, Official Lore, and the Survival Guides yet?
I have fully read the King's Law and the Tome of Citizenship, however, I have scanned over the Lore, and I have not read the Survival Guides. (My reading included the Basic Timeline as well as a couple races. Upon seeing that the cultures for humans were application-only, I scanned through them basically to get a good sense, but that was about it.)
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming is the act of using out-of-character knowledge in-character, whereas powergaming is over-powering a character by doing certain actions or including character traits that are not realistic.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
Definitely not.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Cukie1
8. Tell us about yourself!
Well, I prefer going by Maple or Chi online. I draw, write, and play Dungeons and Dragons. I got my first start to roleplay 6 years ago on Minecraft, and have since been pursuing it continually. I have attempted creating my own server and have made up multiple stories and settings in my head with various characters. I think of roleplay as a guilty pleasure; it's just so much fun to live another life outside of my own!
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
Definitely!
This is an excerpt from an unfinished short story about the adventures of my D&D groups' characters in a modern zombie apocalypse.
A recent drawing (I stick to cartoons, largely females. The male form is somewhat confusing...):
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
Nope! I found it browsing the Roleplay tag on minecraftservers.com. A lot of "roleplay" servers are just Skyblock-PvP-Jail-Faction hybrids...
---
Character Name:
Aspen Raviallah
Character Age:
19
Character Race:
Human
Appearance:
Pale, with blonde hair and green eyes. She wears a basic green dress and covers herself with a cloak and gloves. She typically has a flower in her hair.
---
"Your roses are coming in so nicely, Aspen, dear!"
Primrose grinned down at her child, who then silently reached out a hand. Prim led her gently to one of many flowerbeds, where little rosy buds started to poke out of small woody bushes. Aspen immediately noticed how the buds drooped just slightly downwards, as if every single one of them had lost a favourite object. Aspen let go of her mothers hand for just a moment, and stumbled on meaty toddler legs towards a large bucket off to the side. Primrose giggled a moment before aiding her small daughter in her quest, and helped her lift the bucket. Upon reaching the flowerbed, Prim faced her daughter with a grin.
"How do we make sure the flowers don't get hurt?"
Again, wordlessly, Aspen reached out an outstretched hand and placed it near the lip of the bucket.
"That's right!" Prim agreed. "We break the stream." She placed an outstretched hand over her daughters and began gently pouring water from the bucket onto the roots of the rose bush. The water was cool on their hands, and Aspen giggled a bit at the feeling. Prim set down the bucket and lifted up Aspen in her arms. She plucked a stray Morning Glory from a vine climbing up the wall of their small shack, and tucked it behind her daughter’s ear.
"You're going to be a fantastic florist one day, my dear..."
As time passed, Aspen passed more time in the garden than she did in the house. Her first word was “rose”, and though it came late, it was a welcome sound to Prim’s ears. Her husband, Albert, spent no time with the child, determined she would be a lost cause, but slowly and surely, and under Primrose’s direction, Aspen grew into a fine young woman. She read romantic poems, and recited them word for word. She could grow sunflowers stronger than any man, and her heart was just as guarded. However, due to their isolation, Albert fretted that their daughter would never find a husband and extend the family lineage. It was up to Aspen to continue legacy, much to his dismay. He also was tired of feeding another mouth he was determined would fail in life, and decided it was time to send her on her way. On her seventeenth birthday, at dinner, Albert gifted his daughter a rough sack.
“Gather what you’ll need,” he said, his tone even and cold. “It’s time you left the nest.”
Aspen was speechless. She stared at the rough material, trying to get a grip on the situation, but didn’t protest. Primrose, however, did.
“Albert, this is nonsensical. She is meant to take over my business and sell flowers to the townsfolk nearby. If she runs off on her own, what chance might she have?”
“She could find a husband,” Albert replied. He pushed away from the table and stood, venturing onto the front porch with his tankard of ale.
Primrose sighed, powerless against her husband's will, and stared grimly at her daughter’s forlorn face.
Her gaze shifted to the centrepiece of the table. Daisies, roses, lilies and a single sunflower abounded in a thin vase, the most colourful point in the entire shack. Primrose plucked a lily from the vase and stuck it behind her daughter’s ear.
She spoke softly. "You're going to be a fantastic florist, my dear..."
Aspen smiled, and stood from the table, unprepared and afraid.
MapleChirup
2. How old are you?
18
3. What country are you from?
Canada
4. Have you read the King's Law, Tome of Citizenship, Official Lore, and the Survival Guides yet?
I have fully read the King's Law and the Tome of Citizenship, however, I have scanned over the Lore, and I have not read the Survival Guides. (My reading included the Basic Timeline as well as a couple races. Upon seeing that the cultures for humans were application-only, I scanned through them basically to get a good sense, but that was about it.)
5. In your own words, how would you define metagaming and powergaming?
Metagaming is the act of using out-of-character knowledge in-character, whereas powergaming is over-powering a character by doing certain actions or including character traits that are not realistic.
6. Do we allow X-Raying mods or X-Ray texture packs on the server?
Definitely not.
7. Name one of our current Mentors.
Cukie1
8. Tell us about yourself!
Well, I prefer going by Maple or Chi online. I draw, write, and play Dungeons and Dragons. I got my first start to roleplay 6 years ago on Minecraft, and have since been pursuing it continually. I have attempted creating my own server and have made up multiple stories and settings in my head with various characters. I think of roleplay as a guilty pleasure; it's just so much fun to live another life outside of my own!
9. Do you have any examples of your work?
Definitely!
This is an excerpt from an unfinished short story about the adventures of my D&D groups' characters in a modern zombie apocalypse.
Lapswyn stood in a fire escape attached to an apartment building a couple blocks away, in the richer part of town. Another shot rang out as she fired a bullet at another shambling corpse off her ladder. A glare was permanently plastered on her freckled face, and she sighed, already intensely stressed. She sat back on the fire escape landing, and reloaded her pistol, talking to herself.
"Relax, Lapswyn, relax," she muttered. "You're okay, you're fine. At least these people are already dead, you're killing dead people, not live ones. That's okay, that's a good thing, because they aren't even people... Yeah, they aren't people. They're monsters. You're killing monsters." She took a deep breath, channeling the air in her lungs out of her like a a snake charmer, focusing on every second of it. She could do this. She would get through this nightmare.
She noticed she was shaking, and her head was spinning, and her headache was back, pounding away. God damn it, this must be just how stressed she is. She was sick with it. Thinking quickly, she decided to stay on the fire escape for the night, avoiding the zombies and possible murderers in the streets by climbing up a few stories and hiding under the steps. She could use the rest to help recuperate both physically and mentally.
Lapswyn climbed up the couple stories and set up her garbage bags, huddling inside them as best she could before munching on a couple crackers.
"I'll survive this ****, I swear I will," she reassured herself. She soon fell asleep, cracker in hand, exhausted from a long day of self-defense and adrenaline.
"Relax, Lapswyn, relax," she muttered. "You're okay, you're fine. At least these people are already dead, you're killing dead people, not live ones. That's okay, that's a good thing, because they aren't even people... Yeah, they aren't people. They're monsters. You're killing monsters." She took a deep breath, channeling the air in her lungs out of her like a a snake charmer, focusing on every second of it. She could do this. She would get through this nightmare.
She noticed she was shaking, and her head was spinning, and her headache was back, pounding away. God damn it, this must be just how stressed she is. She was sick with it. Thinking quickly, she decided to stay on the fire escape for the night, avoiding the zombies and possible murderers in the streets by climbing up a few stories and hiding under the steps. She could use the rest to help recuperate both physically and mentally.
Lapswyn climbed up the couple stories and set up her garbage bags, huddling inside them as best she could before munching on a couple crackers.
"I'll survive this ****, I swear I will," she reassured herself. She soon fell asleep, cracker in hand, exhausted from a long day of self-defense and adrenaline.
A recent drawing (I stick to cartoons, largely females. The male form is somewhat confusing...):
10. Did anyone refer you? If not, how did you find our server?
Nope! I found it browsing the Roleplay tag on minecraftservers.com. A lot of "roleplay" servers are just Skyblock-PvP-Jail-Faction hybrids...
---
Character Name:
Aspen Raviallah
Character Age:
19
Character Race:
Human
Appearance:
Pale, with blonde hair and green eyes. She wears a basic green dress and covers herself with a cloak and gloves. She typically has a flower in her hair.
---
"Your roses are coming in so nicely, Aspen, dear!"
Primrose grinned down at her child, who then silently reached out a hand. Prim led her gently to one of many flowerbeds, where little rosy buds started to poke out of small woody bushes. Aspen immediately noticed how the buds drooped just slightly downwards, as if every single one of them had lost a favourite object. Aspen let go of her mothers hand for just a moment, and stumbled on meaty toddler legs towards a large bucket off to the side. Primrose giggled a moment before aiding her small daughter in her quest, and helped her lift the bucket. Upon reaching the flowerbed, Prim faced her daughter with a grin.
"How do we make sure the flowers don't get hurt?"
Again, wordlessly, Aspen reached out an outstretched hand and placed it near the lip of the bucket.
"That's right!" Prim agreed. "We break the stream." She placed an outstretched hand over her daughters and began gently pouring water from the bucket onto the roots of the rose bush. The water was cool on their hands, and Aspen giggled a bit at the feeling. Prim set down the bucket and lifted up Aspen in her arms. She plucked a stray Morning Glory from a vine climbing up the wall of their small shack, and tucked it behind her daughter’s ear.
"You're going to be a fantastic florist one day, my dear..."
As time passed, Aspen passed more time in the garden than she did in the house. Her first word was “rose”, and though it came late, it was a welcome sound to Prim’s ears. Her husband, Albert, spent no time with the child, determined she would be a lost cause, but slowly and surely, and under Primrose’s direction, Aspen grew into a fine young woman. She read romantic poems, and recited them word for word. She could grow sunflowers stronger than any man, and her heart was just as guarded. However, due to their isolation, Albert fretted that their daughter would never find a husband and extend the family lineage. It was up to Aspen to continue legacy, much to his dismay. He also was tired of feeding another mouth he was determined would fail in life, and decided it was time to send her on her way. On her seventeenth birthday, at dinner, Albert gifted his daughter a rough sack.
“Gather what you’ll need,” he said, his tone even and cold. “It’s time you left the nest.”
Aspen was speechless. She stared at the rough material, trying to get a grip on the situation, but didn’t protest. Primrose, however, did.
“Albert, this is nonsensical. She is meant to take over my business and sell flowers to the townsfolk nearby. If she runs off on her own, what chance might she have?”
“She could find a husband,” Albert replied. He pushed away from the table and stood, venturing onto the front porch with his tankard of ale.
Primrose sighed, powerless against her husband's will, and stared grimly at her daughter’s forlorn face.
Her gaze shifted to the centrepiece of the table. Daisies, roses, lilies and a single sunflower abounded in a thin vase, the most colourful point in the entire shack. Primrose plucked a lily from the vase and stuck it behind her daughter’s ear.
She spoke softly. "You're going to be a fantastic florist, my dear..."
Aspen smiled, and stood from the table, unprepared and afraid.
