05-09-2011, 02:14 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player.:
My handle is Wit. I am 23 years old, a bibliophile, and an avid gamer. In terms of WoW based RP experience, I played subscription WoW for two or three years with light to moderate RP on the Moonguard server. Outside of WoW, I have been roleplaying for a long time. I began in chatrooms (mIRC, AOL), moved onto table top gaming (DnD), and then to various MMOs (EQ2, WoW, LotRO, STO, CO). Most recently, I have been flexing my imagination muscle in HL2RP through Garry's Mod. I enjoy watching the creation of community driven plots, as I am a sucker for a good story.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I am from the United States. My primary language is English. I am horridly unskilled in most Latin based languages, and abysmal in everything else.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I have WoW to thank for my current PC gaming habit. I got into Warcraft in order to spend more time with my ex-boyfriend. I wasn't big on computer games at the time, but I was soon hooked as is often the case.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
This server was recommended to me by a friend who is currently in the process of re-applying himself. Knowing my love of roleplay (and my current lack thereof), he passed your website into my curious hands.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
In the past, I have enjoyed the machinations of city based political roleplay, the relaxation of tavern chat or random encounters, and, on occasion, the fast paced nature of instance-adventures. I am not so much of a fan of combat roleplay as I often get a headache when confronted with the dreaded 'all-powerful' opponent. I enjoy balancing the interests of several participants into my interactions when I can, but I have a preference for meaningful discussion in small groups of 2-4.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race has to be the Night Elves. Their lore is the one I am most familiar with from previous WoW roleplay experiences. It's not a stretch, then, to admit that my favorite class is the Druid. Not only due to the lore connections, but because I have a fondness for the nature based societies and playing the Restoration skill tree of this class.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I am expecting to find myself amongst a community of serious roleplayers who will challenge my creative skill, and I hope to provide a worthy response.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
For me, it is a toss-up between 'Maturity' and 'Knowing When to Quit'. I am no lover of drama in the realm of OOC (I have enough of my own!), and it is always disappointing when issues that these rules might resolve completely derail a roleplay session in progress.
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 love stories, and I love telling stories. What follows is a short submission from an irregularly updated HL2RP forum story titled 'Innocence and Instinct'. The bulk of the story is PG-13 in language and violent content, but this section is tamer in accordance with your forum rules. I hereby certify that this is my own work and no one else's.))
Part the Sixth: Kind Eyes – Jack
City Eighteen Train Station
Dauntless was wrong, sort of. They did indeed let me through to the trains, but not until after I had been thoroughly questioned as to my previous whereabouts. My face must have looked like the shadow of death had kissed it, or maybe they just took exception to it. Who knows. I missed the first set of trains while I was staring at a wall with my arms tied behind my back.
Despite how much they interrogated me, my record was clean enough. There was some debate as to what to do with me, but an impatient officer barked at them to toss me on the next train to City Eighteen. It was nearly four hours into the trip before someone was brave enough to cut the ties they had left on my hands. The kindness stirred me out of a restless sleep. I turned to thank them for it, but they had disappeared and the only other person in my train car didn't see anything. I fell back to sleep.
The next time I awoke I found myself alone in a dark, empty car. It was nighttime and the train wasn't moving. Above me, a scrolling announcement sign worked it's way through several languages before I was able to translate the Russian for 'Welcome to City Eighteen, it is safer here.'
Suddenly the reality of my situation overwhelmed me. It hit me like a train, if you'll pardon the pun, knocked the wind out of me and brought tears to my eyes. I was alone, really alone, for the first time in my life. My sister, my twin, was lost.
Some time later, I had pulled myself together. I had decided a few things. Empty-handed, I exited the train into the quiet station. Light slanted down onto the floor from the dust covered windows above and my footsteps echoed on the dirty floor. I laughed quietly at the differences between this station and the one I came from. I brought my hands up behind my neck and spun in a slow circle as I stared at the vaulted cieling, allowing myself the childish imagining that I was the ruler of this empty space. My moment was interrupted by a man's voice and the realization that I wasn't the only one in the room.
I didn't know how long he had been watching me, nor did I really care. He wore a slightly faded uniform, had dark hair, and carried himself with a familiar sense of purpose. I left with him when he bid me follow. For the company maybe.
Stepping outside of the train station, the familiar oppressive air was present, but it didn't quite touch me. We walked the streets in a comfortable silence, working our way up a ladder eventually and along some metal grating. Through a door, down some stairs. We came to a stop in front of a vending machine, adjacent to a metal grate. I was lost.
The man kicked aside a box on the ground as I turned to look down the hallway. When I turned back it was to the sound of the metal grate sliding open. He beckoned me in and again I followed. There were three small rooms and some scattered furniture here. We sat down. I on the couch, him on a chair. I was struck with the silly notion that he had invited me in for tea and it made me smile again. He offered to help me get set up in an apartment in the city, taking note of the fact that I had no possessions with me. I agreed without a second thought. Shortly after, my odd breeze of lightheartedness settled down. It might have had something to do with him asking the question I should have asked myself: why on earth would I follow a man I didn't know, on a path I couldn't remember, to a room no one probably knew about?
I was silent for a bit, reflexively expecting another voice to speak in response. When my sister didn't materialize out of the ether I was forced to speak for myself. I extended a hand to the man, and offered him a name.
“Anya.â€Â
“Jack.â€Â
My response to his question went something along these lines:
“Well if you are going to take advantage of my lapse of judgment, I would certainly be in no position to do anything about it....are you?â€Â
That put a funny expression on his face. “No.â€Â
“Then can I ask you something?â€Â
“Sure. What is it?â€Â
“Why are you helping me? Why did you take me from the train station?â€Â
He looked at me for a long time after that.
“You have kind eyes.â€Â
And that was all there was to be said on that subject. Our entire conversation was whispered. It seemed there was some unseen danger here in his hidden room. That or he was just overly cautious.
After a time we left and he showed me to an apartment with a window that overlooked an alley and some sort of shop. He floated me a loan of tokens for the first rent payment and went on his way; leaving me with a warning to be careful who I opened my door to and directions to the plaza. I spent the next few days scavenging items from nearby buildings to furnish my room with. I had the strange desire to make it look something like the living room from my childhood, even though I would be the only one to appreciate it.
Some time later, during my exploration of the city, I found my way back to the room where we had our hushed conversation. All evidence of the man was gone.
Up Next – Part the Seventh: Humanity
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I'm a bit rusty on my lore, but I should be able to reacquaint myself quickly if accepted. Hope to play with you all soon.
My handle is Wit. I am 23 years old, a bibliophile, and an avid gamer. In terms of WoW based RP experience, I played subscription WoW for two or three years with light to moderate RP on the Moonguard server. Outside of WoW, I have been roleplaying for a long time. I began in chatrooms (mIRC, AOL), moved onto table top gaming (DnD), and then to various MMOs (EQ2, WoW, LotRO, STO, CO). Most recently, I have been flexing my imagination muscle in HL2RP through Garry's Mod. I enjoy watching the creation of community driven plots, as I am a sucker for a good story.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?
I am from the United States. My primary language is English. I am horridly unskilled in most Latin based languages, and abysmal in everything else.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
I have WoW to thank for my current PC gaming habit. I got into Warcraft in order to spend more time with my ex-boyfriend. I wasn't big on computer games at the time, but I was soon hooked as is often the case.
What made you seek our server over others? (or How did you find us?):
This server was recommended to me by a friend who is currently in the process of re-applying himself. Knowing my love of roleplay (and my current lack thereof), he passed your website into my curious hands.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
In the past, I have enjoyed the machinations of city based political roleplay, the relaxation of tavern chat or random encounters, and, on occasion, the fast paced nature of instance-adventures. I am not so much of a fan of combat roleplay as I often get a headache when confronted with the dreaded 'all-powerful' opponent. I enjoy balancing the interests of several participants into my interactions when I can, but I have a preference for meaningful discussion in small groups of 2-4.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race has to be the Night Elves. Their lore is the one I am most familiar with from previous WoW roleplay experiences. It's not a stretch, then, to admit that my favorite class is the Druid. Not only due to the lore connections, but because I have a fondness for the nature based societies and playing the Restoration skill tree of this class.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I am expecting to find myself amongst a community of serious roleplayers who will challenge my creative skill, and I hope to provide a worthy response.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
For me, it is a toss-up between 'Maturity' and 'Knowing When to Quit'. I am no lover of drama in the realm of OOC (I have enough of my own!), and it is always disappointing when issues that these rules might resolve completely derail a roleplay session in progress.
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 love stories, and I love telling stories. What follows is a short submission from an irregularly updated HL2RP forum story titled 'Innocence and Instinct'. The bulk of the story is PG-13 in language and violent content, but this section is tamer in accordance with your forum rules. I hereby certify that this is my own work and no one else's.))
Part the Sixth: Kind Eyes – Jack
City Eighteen Train Station
Dauntless was wrong, sort of. They did indeed let me through to the trains, but not until after I had been thoroughly questioned as to my previous whereabouts. My face must have looked like the shadow of death had kissed it, or maybe they just took exception to it. Who knows. I missed the first set of trains while I was staring at a wall with my arms tied behind my back.
Despite how much they interrogated me, my record was clean enough. There was some debate as to what to do with me, but an impatient officer barked at them to toss me on the next train to City Eighteen. It was nearly four hours into the trip before someone was brave enough to cut the ties they had left on my hands. The kindness stirred me out of a restless sleep. I turned to thank them for it, but they had disappeared and the only other person in my train car didn't see anything. I fell back to sleep.
The next time I awoke I found myself alone in a dark, empty car. It was nighttime and the train wasn't moving. Above me, a scrolling announcement sign worked it's way through several languages before I was able to translate the Russian for 'Welcome to City Eighteen, it is safer here.'
Suddenly the reality of my situation overwhelmed me. It hit me like a train, if you'll pardon the pun, knocked the wind out of me and brought tears to my eyes. I was alone, really alone, for the first time in my life. My sister, my twin, was lost.
Some time later, I had pulled myself together. I had decided a few things. Empty-handed, I exited the train into the quiet station. Light slanted down onto the floor from the dust covered windows above and my footsteps echoed on the dirty floor. I laughed quietly at the differences between this station and the one I came from. I brought my hands up behind my neck and spun in a slow circle as I stared at the vaulted cieling, allowing myself the childish imagining that I was the ruler of this empty space. My moment was interrupted by a man's voice and the realization that I wasn't the only one in the room.
I didn't know how long he had been watching me, nor did I really care. He wore a slightly faded uniform, had dark hair, and carried himself with a familiar sense of purpose. I left with him when he bid me follow. For the company maybe.
Stepping outside of the train station, the familiar oppressive air was present, but it didn't quite touch me. We walked the streets in a comfortable silence, working our way up a ladder eventually and along some metal grating. Through a door, down some stairs. We came to a stop in front of a vending machine, adjacent to a metal grate. I was lost.
The man kicked aside a box on the ground as I turned to look down the hallway. When I turned back it was to the sound of the metal grate sliding open. He beckoned me in and again I followed. There were three small rooms and some scattered furniture here. We sat down. I on the couch, him on a chair. I was struck with the silly notion that he had invited me in for tea and it made me smile again. He offered to help me get set up in an apartment in the city, taking note of the fact that I had no possessions with me. I agreed without a second thought. Shortly after, my odd breeze of lightheartedness settled down. It might have had something to do with him asking the question I should have asked myself: why on earth would I follow a man I didn't know, on a path I couldn't remember, to a room no one probably knew about?
I was silent for a bit, reflexively expecting another voice to speak in response. When my sister didn't materialize out of the ether I was forced to speak for myself. I extended a hand to the man, and offered him a name.
“Anya.â€Â
“Jack.â€Â
My response to his question went something along these lines:
“Well if you are going to take advantage of my lapse of judgment, I would certainly be in no position to do anything about it....are you?â€Â
That put a funny expression on his face. “No.â€Â
“Then can I ask you something?â€Â
“Sure. What is it?â€Â
“Why are you helping me? Why did you take me from the train station?â€Â
He looked at me for a long time after that.
“You have kind eyes.â€Â
And that was all there was to be said on that subject. Our entire conversation was whispered. It seemed there was some unseen danger here in his hidden room. That or he was just overly cautious.
After a time we left and he showed me to an apartment with a window that overlooked an alley and some sort of shop. He floated me a loan of tokens for the first rent payment and went on his way; leaving me with a warning to be careful who I opened my door to and directions to the plaza. I spent the next few days scavenging items from nearby buildings to furnish my room with. I had the strange desire to make it look something like the living room from my childhood, even though I would be the only one to appreciate it.
Some time later, during my exploration of the city, I found my way back to the room where we had our hushed conversation. All evidence of the man was gone.
Up Next – Part the Seventh: Humanity
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
I'm a bit rusty on my lore, but I should be able to reacquaint myself quickly if accepted. Hope to play with you all soon.
