11-13-2010, 07:13 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
I don't like writing introductions, because I tend to feel awkward and not really know what to write. I'm 17 years old, a full-time student, and I live in Port Republic, Maryland. I'm studying to be a Linguist in Parsic languages, and uh, I enjoy roleplay. So yeah.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I'm originally from Russia, but I have been living in the United States for ten years. I like to think I have achieved a good level of fluency in English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Warcraft II was the first game that I ever played. I remember when I was seven years old, my dad brought home his first computer from the workplace. This was still in Russia, and he installed one game on it so I could play while he wasn't home. I played the original game in Russian, and that experience made me love the franchise.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I began to dislike the other server I was on, and so I began to search for other WoW private RP servers. I found this one via Google. I dislike leveling systems for the purpose of RP though, so I'm not yet certain how long or if I'll stick around.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy any roleplay, to be honest. At this point in time, I'm pretty much /starved/ for it. Owing to my own personality, and thereby sometimes also the personality of my characters, I do tend to enjoy travel or survival RP a good deal - and also I enjoy annoying people in-character.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race is the Forsaken, 100%. As of Cataclysm and Wrath of the Lich King, I am starting to dislike their leader, but I still love the idea of the race. They are those that have died and come back, only to be abandoned by those that before had cared for them. Their friends, family, and even the Light have turned their back upon them. They're a people who are now dedicated to simply survival, to constructing an order in Lordaeron that will allow them to exist free of the shackles of the Lich King and of the influence of the Alliance. I enjoy playing Forsaken because frankly, there's just so much potential in them.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I don't know, to be frank. I've heard that the GMs are very strict here, and this rigid and irritating process for just getting an account sort of confirms that for me. I hope though that I'll at least be able to find some roleplay here.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
None of those rules particularly stand out to me, as they all seem to be things which most people should adhere to whether they are written down or not. It's just common sense.
Lastly, tell us a story! It can be short, it can be long; but most importantly, we want to see your work in action. Go!:
I'm going to copy paste an older work of mine into here. Let me note though, that it is not related to Warcraft. If it needs to be, then do please contact me and I will submit something else here. The only place where I have posted this is at a forum RP that I do indeed attend, which if you care enough to find, I'll be happy to confirm on that account that I did indeed write it. Plagiarizing something for the sake of getting on a RP server seems so silly.
--
The screw turned a dial, the settings adjusting a tad. The low electronic hum of the assorted computer hardware reverberated in the compact space, and the beep of the sonar was faintly audible emanating from the headpiece of the officer. Plucking his pen up, the dark-skinned Ensign made a small note upon a pad near him, continuing his watch over the screen – and his intent observation over the sound-waves. Another click, the engine's being started up again most likely. After the boat had reached a certain speed, around ten to fifteen knots, the sonar would become pointless, as nothing short of a nuclear burst would be heard. A faint whirring began, slowly becoming louder, and the Ensign tapped his pen idly against the pad again, a thin smile playing upon his lips, satisfied in his approximation of the sound.
Normally the watch hours for his post were on four hour shifts, alternating between himself, and two other sonar-trained operators who had been assigned to the boat. With the 'dangerous' operating position of the Mauricio Hernandèz in these Eastern waters, the skipper had mandated the crew to extend their shifts another hour each, issuing extra food in addition to keep morale up. The Mauricio wasn't too old a boat in itself, it was a submarine commissioned fairly recently of an only slightly older class. The exact date wasn't known, no one really knew. All he, Germán Rojan-Estadaõ really knew, was the Mauricio Hernandèz was perfectly capable of exercising near any whim of the High Wrung. High Wrung, of the many nicknames adopted for the senior staff of the Navy in Tempestad, that was the favorite of the submariners. Going to the depths, they perceived the upper echelon swivel chair cadre as having lost the touch of reality. All was done loyally though.
The whirring grew low and distant, Estadaõ flicking a small dial on his head set, lowering it from his ears as he checked his wrist. Seven more minutes before his shift was over. Placing the bulky appendage back over his ears, he sat once more, making a note of the stop of the sound, as he made of any. It was pointless really, the paper-and-pen record of sounds, especially those as pointless as that of your own boat. The sonar system had inbuilt systems to record the files for future reference, especially important when the upper cadre's wanted to hear the sound signature of some previously unknown ship or submarine. A short screech resonated from above him, startling the Ensign and interrupting his deliberations.
“All hands, stand by general quarters.†The deep voice of the captain, Commander Garcia roared, followed ominously by the cry of a klaxon. The whirring in his ears increased, another glance at his watch – the alarm indicating despite it that his shift would be extended yet a bit more. A sardonic smile plaited upon his face, Estadaõ drummed his pen against the light-brown paper of the notepad, noting with even more satisfaction that the submarine was rising to the surface.
The sleek black hull of the Mauricio Hernandèz broke the surface of the water a half mile from the shoreline of the city. Easily visible from the beach, it's frame shining in the sunlight – almost as if provoking an undue response. It was a fairly new design, kept rather well away from prying eyes in the confines of the Isla del Choca naval facility and docks until it had finally been finished. Almost mockingly, a periscope rose out from the top, an idle waft of it over the shoreline before returning back from wherein it came from. Slowly revving up the engines, the submarine turned aft, descending laboriously into the depths, continuing the turn back out into the sea. It was no doubt however that any military installations would've detected the presence of the submarine just now off the South Carolina coast.
It didn't matter, the purpose was to provoke a response.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Not really; though I would like to add that this whole process here for merely getting an account on the server seems a bit much. A hectic process, really. I mean seriously, I don't like to type up character profiles or long-winded introductions - I just want to RP.
I don't like writing introductions, because I tend to feel awkward and not really know what to write. I'm 17 years old, a full-time student, and I live in Port Republic, Maryland. I'm studying to be a Linguist in Parsic languages, and uh, I enjoy roleplay. So yeah.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I'm originally from Russia, but I have been living in the United States for ten years. I like to think I have achieved a good level of fluency in English.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Warcraft II was the first game that I ever played. I remember when I was seven years old, my dad brought home his first computer from the workplace. This was still in Russia, and he installed one game on it so I could play while he wasn't home. I played the original game in Russian, and that experience made me love the franchise.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
I began to dislike the other server I was on, and so I began to search for other WoW private RP servers. I found this one via Google. I dislike leveling systems for the purpose of RP though, so I'm not yet certain how long or if I'll stick around.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy any roleplay, to be honest. At this point in time, I'm pretty much /starved/ for it. Owing to my own personality, and thereby sometimes also the personality of my characters, I do tend to enjoy travel or survival RP a good deal - and also I enjoy annoying people in-character.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race is the Forsaken, 100%. As of Cataclysm and Wrath of the Lich King, I am starting to dislike their leader, but I still love the idea of the race. They are those that have died and come back, only to be abandoned by those that before had cared for them. Their friends, family, and even the Light have turned their back upon them. They're a people who are now dedicated to simply survival, to constructing an order in Lordaeron that will allow them to exist free of the shackles of the Lich King and of the influence of the Alliance. I enjoy playing Forsaken because frankly, there's just so much potential in them.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I don't know, to be frank. I've heard that the GMs are very strict here, and this rigid and irritating process for just getting an account sort of confirms that for me. I hope though that I'll at least be able to find some roleplay here.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
None of those rules particularly stand out to me, as they all seem to be things which most people should adhere to whether they are written down or not. It's just common sense.
Lastly, tell us a story! It can be short, it can be long; but most importantly, we want to see your work in action. Go!:
I'm going to copy paste an older work of mine into here. Let me note though, that it is not related to Warcraft. If it needs to be, then do please contact me and I will submit something else here. The only place where I have posted this is at a forum RP that I do indeed attend, which if you care enough to find, I'll be happy to confirm on that account that I did indeed write it. Plagiarizing something for the sake of getting on a RP server seems so silly.
--
The screw turned a dial, the settings adjusting a tad. The low electronic hum of the assorted computer hardware reverberated in the compact space, and the beep of the sonar was faintly audible emanating from the headpiece of the officer. Plucking his pen up, the dark-skinned Ensign made a small note upon a pad near him, continuing his watch over the screen – and his intent observation over the sound-waves. Another click, the engine's being started up again most likely. After the boat had reached a certain speed, around ten to fifteen knots, the sonar would become pointless, as nothing short of a nuclear burst would be heard. A faint whirring began, slowly becoming louder, and the Ensign tapped his pen idly against the pad again, a thin smile playing upon his lips, satisfied in his approximation of the sound.
Normally the watch hours for his post were on four hour shifts, alternating between himself, and two other sonar-trained operators who had been assigned to the boat. With the 'dangerous' operating position of the Mauricio Hernandèz in these Eastern waters, the skipper had mandated the crew to extend their shifts another hour each, issuing extra food in addition to keep morale up. The Mauricio wasn't too old a boat in itself, it was a submarine commissioned fairly recently of an only slightly older class. The exact date wasn't known, no one really knew. All he, Germán Rojan-Estadaõ really knew, was the Mauricio Hernandèz was perfectly capable of exercising near any whim of the High Wrung. High Wrung, of the many nicknames adopted for the senior staff of the Navy in Tempestad, that was the favorite of the submariners. Going to the depths, they perceived the upper echelon swivel chair cadre as having lost the touch of reality. All was done loyally though.
The whirring grew low and distant, Estadaõ flicking a small dial on his head set, lowering it from his ears as he checked his wrist. Seven more minutes before his shift was over. Placing the bulky appendage back over his ears, he sat once more, making a note of the stop of the sound, as he made of any. It was pointless really, the paper-and-pen record of sounds, especially those as pointless as that of your own boat. The sonar system had inbuilt systems to record the files for future reference, especially important when the upper cadre's wanted to hear the sound signature of some previously unknown ship or submarine. A short screech resonated from above him, startling the Ensign and interrupting his deliberations.
“All hands, stand by general quarters.†The deep voice of the captain, Commander Garcia roared, followed ominously by the cry of a klaxon. The whirring in his ears increased, another glance at his watch – the alarm indicating despite it that his shift would be extended yet a bit more. A sardonic smile plaited upon his face, Estadaõ drummed his pen against the light-brown paper of the notepad, noting with even more satisfaction that the submarine was rising to the surface.
The sleek black hull of the Mauricio Hernandèz broke the surface of the water a half mile from the shoreline of the city. Easily visible from the beach, it's frame shining in the sunlight – almost as if provoking an undue response. It was a fairly new design, kept rather well away from prying eyes in the confines of the Isla del Choca naval facility and docks until it had finally been finished. Almost mockingly, a periscope rose out from the top, an idle waft of it over the shoreline before returning back from wherein it came from. Slowly revving up the engines, the submarine turned aft, descending laboriously into the depths, continuing the turn back out into the sea. It was no doubt however that any military installations would've detected the presence of the submarine just now off the South Carolina coast.
It didn't matter, the purpose was to provoke a response.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Not really; though I would like to add that this whole process here for merely getting an account on the server seems a bit much. A hectic process, really. I mean seriously, I don't like to type up character profiles or long-winded introductions - I just want to RP.