preosky's Whitelist App:
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{Introduction Section}
Minecraft Username: preosky
Age: 17
Country & Timezone: United States of America - MST
Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes
Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming is the use of outside knowledge being enforced and used to personal advantage in roleplay situations. This can include being on a call with another individual within the server, asking them for the location of another person that you are trying to find, and proceeding to head in that direction even though your character does not know about this. Powergaming is the use of unpermitted forces that are not applicable within the roleplay situation. This can include something out-of-the-park like using fire-breathing powers even when your character is not allowed to possess those, or even something so simple as pretending like someone did not just severely injure your character and acting as if it did not impact your character as much as it should have.
Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No
Tell us about yourself!: Howdy! My name is James, but I'm just fine being called either James or Preo. I'm from the United States of America, more so the rural part, and I'm a big-time enjoyer of not only fantasy roleplay but creating and writing stories. I'm a plant, geography, and history nerd and I have my own collection of various plants, maps, and history books. I'm a huge fan of Phoebe Bridgers, Taylor Swift, Lord Huron, and Father John Misty just to name a few. I'm very excited to become closer to this community and see what this server has to offer!
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{Character Section}
Character Name: Percival Monét
Age: 23
Race: Human
Appearance: With no doubt, the snobby male would have a matching snobby appearance! The pale, gaunt man stood with proud posture, tilting his head high as if he were the only important figure within his proximity. Standing at 5'11, his height didn't help with his thin and brittle stature, making his figure easily able to be named a 'glorified twig'. His skin was pale and obviously commonly rejected from sunlight and exposure. The underneath of his eyes and his arms were dotted with faded freckles, ones more prominent in his youth. His hair was a deep charcoal black, the iconic color that most of the Monét's possessed. A matching set of dark bushy eyebrows rested above his smokey grey eyes, usually narrow from a distasteful glare that would be often sent to the 'deserving' recipient. Although uncommonly shown since it is hidden underneath his red vest, he would have an extended scar broadening across his right hip, caused by an unfortunate event when he was younger whilst training with his older brother.
Written Test:
Percival Devereaux Monét was born not only as the second son of the Monét's, but also the second child in general to the stuck-up Anhalder family. This meant that ever since his first breath, he has had his entire life planned and handed to him with the low cost of having a 'high horse', something that obviously runs in his family. Growing up, Percival would surprisingly be the one to pick fights with his older brother (Corentin) and his younger sister (Lizabeth), often teasing them and chasing them around the family home until their thin limbs couldn't compete with the glorious Monét any longer. Unfortunately for Percy, as Corentin began training more to lead in his father's footsteps in the military, and for Devereaux, Percival's father, to retire and become a pastor, such petty games weren't as easy for Percival to win any longer. This led Percival to be easily competitive with Corentin, often causing unfriendly fights that became more severe as they aged out of their childhood. Once, when Percival was just entering his pre-teen stage, he lashed out at Corentin. Not much explanation was provided to why a fight broke out between the two but all that was to result was Percival with a large gash on his right hip. This demobilized him for many years, giving him no more excuses to ignore and escape his scholarly and diplomatic studies. Ever since he was able to read, his parents deemed him worthy to be able to control the writing and scholarly work for the family, because of his brother being focused on the military and his sister with tailoring. Since neither Devereaux nor Angelica, Percival's mother, knew one useful thing about the subject, they hired him an instructor, Ezra Valenkatar. Percival most likely spent more time with the strict old professor than anyone else in his childhood, often spending the majority of the day in Valenkatar's office, reciting what felt like every book he owned word for word. Perhaps, the deemed torturous studies by Percival paid off, leading him to be brilliant in his literature. Maybe he could even be as flamboyant with his vocabulary if he didn't come off as so cold!
The quick and eager encouragement for Corentin to marry and settle and become proficient with his military training so his father could retire soon rubbed off on Percival in his teen years. Rushed but disgusted by the thought of love, he quickly began the tedious search 'the one' along with his brother. Almost automatically, Corentin had begun a romance with a daughter of another snooty family. The two hit it off quickly as Corentin left Percival to search for what he wanted least on his lonesome. Convinced with the possible unfortunate satisfaction of defeat, Percival was struck at the last minute with newfound love. Marielle Cordette, a girl the same age of Percival that attended the same instructor, began showing interest out of the blue. The two used to bicker and fight as children, cursing each other's names before words became punches, why was she fond of him now? The question hung in Percival's mind but never escaped verbally before they declared their love. Still, in their late teens, they had to sneak out of each other's houses to meet in nearby parks or alleyways to encounter and discuss their future. Her family was one of the many commoners that cursed Percival's last name, so if they had discovered her fondness for Percy, such results wouldn't be enjoyable! More than half a decade passed, with both now being proficient writers, and the long-awaited question finally took over Percival; "will you marry me?" The fear of the stupid four simple words struck him in a place of his heart he had never experienced, one so vulnerable, so disgusting, but so adoring. After thousands of summer nights spent with Marielle, ones that would leave his cheekbones sore from the amount of time he spent smiling around her, he finally decided to pop the big question. Her answer was simple, reflected off of his shortened question, but luckily she replied with a 'yes'. The date was soon set and against Marielle's family's wishes, they were soon to be wed.
As the date to declare their own pledge of loyalty approached, a gut feeling from Percival told him not to continue on with this. Not one to ignore his ego, it was a strange night when he decided to push that aside and return home early one night from the local library. He found himself with only the strangest feelings when he was walking home, as if an urge to bolt home and run far where not even Marielle could find him took over, but he once again ignored it. As many would be, he was nervous and anxious from the feelings, so he began to make his way to Marielle's home. As he began to approach the home, he crossed over the bridge, and to his utter horror, he saw Marielle dancing with another man on the balcony of her abode. He froze, he didn't know whether to shout, to scream, to yell, or to let him take Marielle away from himself. So, as any man would, he stayed dead silent, watching the two count a few steps before Percy turned on his heel and stormed home. He had never slammed the door to the entrance of the Monét home, never once caused the walls to shake with aggression except for that night. He sat in his bed, along the side of his window as he watched the moon, disgusted with the image of that moon being the exact one that Marielle and her hidden lover danced underneath a moment ago. Realization and regret somehow flipped a switch in Percival's brain, to leave his family and 'loved' ones behind and start fresh, away for the known and into the new. He wrote letters to his father, mother, Corentin, Lizabeth, Valenkatar, and last of all, Marielle. The letter to who was supposed to be the rest of forever to Percival was short, sweet, and simple. Ending with a small and simplified reminder; "When you hurt me, you hurt yourself. Try not to hurt yourself darling." And thus, declaring the end of the relationship, the end of his first exposure to vulnerability, and for sure the last.
Within his new life, he commonly remains reclusive and independent. Sharing barely any relations with anyone else, not out of true disdain that he may represent, but out of fear. He tends to block out a lot of aspects of his 'past life.' Within his new life in Storm's landing, he barely ever contributes to his past-favorite activity, writing, as it quickly reminds him of Mariette. Nowadays, he spends his hobby-filled evenings studying botany, different plants, and different uses of herbology, an uncommon attribute of most Anhalder folk. His most recent major interest within this aspect has been the Crimson King Maple, amazed by it's large stature and it's many benefits. This tree and other various plants would be one of the few aspects of Percival's new life that kept him motivated. He often assures himself that something beneficial would rise from this newfound interest and he would be much happier exploring the lands rather than cooped up in a studying room or even married, but the circumstances and the possible outcomes presented to Percival did not seem too hopeful. | |
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