Tawhirl's Whitelist Application [ Approved - Mara ]

[Tawhirl]

Minecraft Username: Tawhirl Age: 18 Country & Timezone: EST Read the Kings Law, Code of Conducts, Official Lore, and the Player Guides?: Yes Define Metagaming & Powergaming?: Metagaming: ICly obtaining knowledge via gaining it OOCly. Powergaming: Generally a CRP issue--though it usually involves not allowing another player to properly respond to your emote or auto-hitting (I.E. multiple actions per emote, "*kills*", etc). Do we allow Xray mods or X-Ray texture packs?: No Tell us about yourself!: I'm a bit of a freelance writer/artist at the moment, though I do eventually plan to get into a trade, so. . .I can't guarantee I'll -always- be on the server. I honestly wanted to come here because one of my old friends has been talking about it for over two years now, and I was never entirely sure of joining until relatively recently. I've been in RP servers off and on for the past few years, though I haven't really been in any as of the past two years. Probably about time I changed that, though. Referral: Crusader_Of_Man ________________________________________ {Character Section} Character Name: Archibald Greyson Age: 16 Race: Human (Sangrian) Appearance: A spry young man with sun-bleached brown hair, amber eyes, a dusting of freckles on his limbs, and, usually, a brilliant grin. He stands at a good 5'6", and is often clad in a cream-colored white button-up and a pair of faded old leggings, as well as worn leather boots and a few belts for his things. Written Test (Min: 400 words): Archibald padded along through the lowly-lit forest, eyes flicking between the brush around them and his father's broad back; they were heading out to check the traps for any game again, last time having pulled not even a scrap of fur. His mother had had enough of the fish they kept eating time and time again, so she’d sent for them to get her materials for stew. He wet his lips as they eventually came up to the first trap, his sight blocked by the burly old fellow ahead of him–though the low grumble of annoyance that floated up from the man told him all he needed to know on the status of this one. “Blasted thing–we’ll have to try another spot for this one. Been here for days and nothin’s tripped it,” the man rumbled, muttering other colorful curses under his breath as he knelt down to begin breaking down the simple snare. Archibald merely spectated this from over his father’s shoulder, the lad’s stomach twisting in anxiety and disappointment as he watched on; he couldn’t help but worry over the rest of the traps being in much the same state. They weren’t exactly the poorest family–far from it–in their town, but he could agree that the constant diet of fish and bread was starting to grow bland, so he was quite eager to have red meat for a change. “Archer,” he then grumbled, causing the boy to perk up. “‘Aye, sir?” His father tossed the ropes over to him, earning a little scramble from Archibald as the boy fumbled to catch them, watching him in moderate amusement for a brief moment, before grumbling: “Hold on’ta those, lad. We’ll set ’em up later.” “‘Aye, sir.” The man forced himself back upright afterwards, quietly grunting at the effort, before continuing on into the woods to check the remaining two traps, his son trailing after him like some sort of lost puppy as they made their way along in silence. It wasn’t long until they’d arrived at the second trap, Archer’s face lighting up upon seeing the small bundle of fur in it; at which point, the hulking fellow in front of him gave out a low chuckle, nodding his head approvingly at the snared rabbit, before kneeling down to quickly and quietly dispatch it so he could sling it over his shoulder and reset the trap. “Tha’s more like it,” he uttered, turning back to his son with a broad grin, which was quickly returned by the stocky little fellow, “now let’s go check the other snare, ‘aye?” Archer eagerly bobbed his head, a new bounce in his step as they turned to head for the remaining trap.

 

[Mara]

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Congratulations!​

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