07-06-2012, 01:45 AM
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
My name is, unflatteringly, Marilyn. I'm growing old at twenty-three and work off and on jobs where I live. I'm the proud owner of two beautiful dogs and a sizable novel collection. I'm usually in good spirits and good mind, and have been told that i'm a natural social butterfly. Not that i'm universally liked of course, but I just prefer to be around people at all times, mixing and mingling. Some of my favorite things include fine cheesecakes, working out, reading, and tackling big challenges. Usually all at the same time. I like as an optimal, type A personality that often leads to me driving too strong in the wrong direction sometimes. I like to think that I am assertive and strong, but that's just my opinion. On myself.
...
Yeah.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I yield from all across the world, no one place feels like my true home. Due to my father being a part of the German defense force, I have lived on every continent and by this point in my life have at least travelled to every state, living in many of them. My primary language was German, but I can fluently speak and clearly write English, as well as being able to read and write in Russian and Korean.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My misguided parents decided for one of my birthdays, being the sheltered recluse that I am, that they would get me whatever they thought I would like. So, they tossed a copy of Warcraft III onto my lap. Puzzled, as my parents ruffled my hair and walked off, I jammed it in a computer and was instantly hooked on destroying things. All the things.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
Type in 'Private RP Server' into google and reveal the mystery of how I got here. It was the first link, and what seems to be the only direct to website link. This place seems to be the strongest running, and the more I look, the more sense it makes that it is.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy very social, light roleplay. Chatty folks just give old me a special kind of happiness, i've always felt comfortable in flocks of crowds, especially if they're all being sociable with one another.
On the other side of the coin, I do like very heavy, drama powered storylines. Getting in on in character drama just keeps feeding my delightful, devouring soul.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race would have to be the blood elves. Often made a mockery of, their strife filled history and current, futurist outlook always appeals to me. From this stems my favorite class to be mage. They are versatile and can be almost anywhere they need to be. Such magic and sparkles are so useful!
What are your expectations of this server?:
I have very high expectations of the server, it seems like such a wonderful place full of strict certainty and such a laissez faire approach that seems like such a wonderful balance.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Oh certainly Tolerance. I've had to deal with such strife all my life, that seeing someone get instantly thrown out for being intolerant would just make my heart go ballistic into fireworks. <3
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!:
. . . . "Nine men died here today, because of you!" The man in the long brown coat shouted over the torrential weather. It was inclement and the raindrops seemed to be hitting heavier and getting thinner as the seconds passed.
. . . . "What is more precious to you, detective? Nine lives or a thousand?" The other man responded. They were both holding long barrels of guns to one another. The rain poured off of their shimmering barrels quietly, the sounds echoing throughout the roofless, abandoned brick factory. They were both equal distance from each other, standing amongst rubble of the ruined ghost of the proud factory that once stood. Between them, a man laid face down in the rainwater, coloring the southbound stream red.
. . . . The detective bit his lip, his mind locked in thought. The criminal was right, and he was in the wrong. But his beliefs just could not be faltered. One death was far too many. Shooting the man wouldn't solve anything either, it would just add to the toll. Nobody else would die today. He thought this as he lowered his revolver. Realizing his weakness, a burst cracked through the air, the massive sound thundering off of the walls, deafening both men. The detective stumbled backwards, a sharp pain crushing his lower torso. He looked down to see the dark blood of his life pouring through the soaked coat. The man had shot him. Certainly, his armistice had just been a sign of weakness. The detective slumped against the wall, sliding down into the gathering inches of rainwater. Once a criminal, always one.
. . . . The other man was climbing into the back of a van, hurrying to flee from the docks, which seemed like they were going to be swallowed by the storm. The van took off and he slumped into the back seat, coughing with the sickness of dying men.
. . . . "Maxwell..." A familiar voice called. The man looked up to see his wife sitting in the seat across from him, cuts and bruises all across her. "Did we make it, Maxwell?" She asked quietly, the van bumbling along the deserted roads in wake of the tropical storm. The man simply nodded, and slumped into her lap. The bullet the detective put into his chest was beginning to be a major problem. His intent and goal was only to save as many as possible. Blood shed along the way, even his, was just a jump that he needed to take.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Not that I can think of~!
My name is, unflatteringly, Marilyn. I'm growing old at twenty-three and work off and on jobs where I live. I'm the proud owner of two beautiful dogs and a sizable novel collection. I'm usually in good spirits and good mind, and have been told that i'm a natural social butterfly. Not that i'm universally liked of course, but I just prefer to be around people at all times, mixing and mingling. Some of my favorite things include fine cheesecakes, working out, reading, and tackling big challenges. Usually all at the same time. I like as an optimal, type A personality that often leads to me driving too strong in the wrong direction sometimes. I like to think that I am assertive and strong, but that's just my opinion. On myself.
...
Yeah.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I yield from all across the world, no one place feels like my true home. Due to my father being a part of the German defense force, I have lived on every continent and by this point in my life have at least travelled to every state, living in many of them. My primary language was German, but I can fluently speak and clearly write English, as well as being able to read and write in Russian and Korean.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
My misguided parents decided for one of my birthdays, being the sheltered recluse that I am, that they would get me whatever they thought I would like. So, they tossed a copy of Warcraft III onto my lap. Puzzled, as my parents ruffled my hair and walked off, I jammed it in a computer and was instantly hooked on destroying things. All the things.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
Type in 'Private RP Server' into google and reveal the mystery of how I got here. It was the first link, and what seems to be the only direct to website link. This place seems to be the strongest running, and the more I look, the more sense it makes that it is.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I enjoy very social, light roleplay. Chatty folks just give old me a special kind of happiness, i've always felt comfortable in flocks of crowds, especially if they're all being sociable with one another.
On the other side of the coin, I do like very heavy, drama powered storylines. Getting in on in character drama just keeps feeding my delightful, devouring soul.What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
My favorite race would have to be the blood elves. Often made a mockery of, their strife filled history and current, futurist outlook always appeals to me. From this stems my favorite class to be mage. They are versatile and can be almost anywhere they need to be. Such magic and sparkles are so useful!
What are your expectations of this server?:
I have very high expectations of the server, it seems like such a wonderful place full of strict certainty and such a laissez faire approach that seems like such a wonderful balance.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Oh certainly Tolerance. I've had to deal with such strife all my life, that seeing someone get instantly thrown out for being intolerant would just make my heart go ballistic into fireworks. <3
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!:
. . . . "Nine men died here today, because of you!" The man in the long brown coat shouted over the torrential weather. It was inclement and the raindrops seemed to be hitting heavier and getting thinner as the seconds passed.
. . . . "What is more precious to you, detective? Nine lives or a thousand?" The other man responded. They were both holding long barrels of guns to one another. The rain poured off of their shimmering barrels quietly, the sounds echoing throughout the roofless, abandoned brick factory. They were both equal distance from each other, standing amongst rubble of the ruined ghost of the proud factory that once stood. Between them, a man laid face down in the rainwater, coloring the southbound stream red.
. . . . The detective bit his lip, his mind locked in thought. The criminal was right, and he was in the wrong. But his beliefs just could not be faltered. One death was far too many. Shooting the man wouldn't solve anything either, it would just add to the toll. Nobody else would die today. He thought this as he lowered his revolver. Realizing his weakness, a burst cracked through the air, the massive sound thundering off of the walls, deafening both men. The detective stumbled backwards, a sharp pain crushing his lower torso. He looked down to see the dark blood of his life pouring through the soaked coat. The man had shot him. Certainly, his armistice had just been a sign of weakness. The detective slumped against the wall, sliding down into the gathering inches of rainwater. Once a criminal, always one.
. . . . The other man was climbing into the back of a van, hurrying to flee from the docks, which seemed like they were going to be swallowed by the storm. The van took off and he slumped into the back seat, coughing with the sickness of dying men.
. . . . "Maxwell..." A familiar voice called. The man looked up to see his wife sitting in the seat across from him, cuts and bruises all across her. "Did we make it, Maxwell?" She asked quietly, the van bumbling along the deserted roads in wake of the tropical storm. The man simply nodded, and slumped into her lap. The bullet the detective put into his chest was beginning to be a major problem. His intent and goal was only to save as many as possible. Blood shed along the way, even his, was just a jump that he needed to take.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Not that I can think of~!
