06-27-2009, 10:02 PM
Hello, everyone. This is a really nicely put-together site you have, I look forward to exploring it.
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
I have this on-again, off-again relationship with online RPGs. I enjoy playing games cooperatively with people, crafting interesting characters and sharing stories, but so far I've had a really hard time in the proper Blizzard servers finding like-minded folks, who both enjoy the game and really want to bring creativity to it. So I wandered off soon after getting to level 80 and haven't really been back. I've started to get the bug for it again, and I thought maybe I'd check out some private servers before re-activating my account all official-like.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I come from America, California in specific. I speak English, and can sometimes decipher Spanish.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Peer pressure, mostly. I like playing games with friends, and they all stopped playing City of Heroes when WoW came out.
What made you seek our server over others?:
Well, you're the first I've found that seems to take characterization seriously.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I like a story, I like playing and interacting with characters with colorful personalities. I think setting those characters against the game's challenges is a lot more fun than playing as a kind of "removed observer" if that makes sense.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
By and large I like feeling like I'm in service to the team, I mostly played healers and tanks, in my day. I had a high level Draenai Shaman, and an 80 Undead Warrior.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I'm hoping for a friendly group of people interested in coming up with fun characters and putting them through their paces in an interesting story.
Also, cupcakes would be nice. Cupcakes are always nice.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
The Resurrection rule jumped out at me. I've been playing tabletop roleplaying games for longer than I care to admit and the constant presence of Ressurection spells always kind of kills some of the potential drama of a lot of situations that should be Very Big Deals.
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!:
Well... Ok, it's not fantasy, but it is true, which may count for something.
So, I work in a movie theater in the downtown area of a small city that wants to be big. It's a chihuahua of cities, really, small and weirdly aggressive at times, but also mostly harmless. Being cheap entertainment near bars, I get to meet a lot of the local color. Which is a charitable way of saying, "drunk people have thrown tables at me."
I was a projectionist for a while, before spazzing out and damaging some rather expensive property (more on that another time, maybe,) and so assisting the manager with closing checks was part of my daily chores. If you've ever left through the back door of a big movie theater, you may be familiar with the labyrinth of dingy access corridors winding around out of sight of that timeless 80s geometric decor. It was our job, usually well after midnight, to poke our nose around in -all- of them and make sure no vagrants were trying to camp out there. This is the stuff ghost stories are made of. Your feet and voice echo, you don't care to identify the smells and stains on the walls, fluorescent tubes flicker, and sometimes you these weird, hollowed-out sounds from the movies playing in the auditoriums that haven't emptied yet.
We'd found the candy displays on the upper floors broken that night. What couldn't be carried by the vandals had been left out for exiting patrons to grab. There was grumbling on our part, but it happens sometimes. We gathered what left ('Good and Plenty', mostly. Don't ask me why we sell it. Obviously people won't even /take/ the stuff free,) locked it up downstairs and went back to our work. I left my manager for a moment to run upstairs to turn off a projector, leaving a theater dark (I always found the dark booth windows really unnerving,) and as I was hitting the booth lights behind me, I hear this short, startled scream on my way back down the stairs.
Now, my manager is not a large woman, but no-nonsense, athletic, and often armed with a mag-lite. Frankly, if a physical altercation was about to happen, she had better odds than I do of roughing up any given bum. That being said, it wasn't really chivalry that prompted me to sprint down the remaining stairs, but a sick hope of seeing a tiny woman lay out one of the alcoholic troglodytes that linger around our place. What I -did- see was her standing mortified at the exit doors, staring as if in a trance into the exposed, dimpled, posterior of a half-naked man in the upper-half of a gray track suit lying face-down in a heap of Red Vines and Skittles, sleeping like a baby. Apparently on his way out from a daring candy heist, his sweat pants fell down around his ankles, and with his hands occupied he landed face-down in his haul, whereupon he fell sound asleep.
We called the police, who woke him up.
He swore he'd been framed.
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
I have this on-again, off-again relationship with online RPGs. I enjoy playing games cooperatively with people, crafting interesting characters and sharing stories, but so far I've had a really hard time in the proper Blizzard servers finding like-minded folks, who both enjoy the game and really want to bring creativity to it. So I wandered off soon after getting to level 80 and haven't really been back. I've started to get the bug for it again, and I thought maybe I'd check out some private servers before re-activating my account all official-like.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
I come from America, California in specific. I speak English, and can sometimes decipher Spanish.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Peer pressure, mostly. I like playing games with friends, and they all stopped playing City of Heroes when WoW came out.
What made you seek our server over others?:
Well, you're the first I've found that seems to take characterization seriously.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
I like a story, I like playing and interacting with characters with colorful personalities. I think setting those characters against the game's challenges is a lot more fun than playing as a kind of "removed observer" if that makes sense.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
By and large I like feeling like I'm in service to the team, I mostly played healers and tanks, in my day. I had a high level Draenai Shaman, and an 80 Undead Warrior.
What are your expectations of this server?:
I'm hoping for a friendly group of people interested in coming up with fun characters and putting them through their paces in an interesting story.
Also, cupcakes would be nice. Cupcakes are always nice.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
The Resurrection rule jumped out at me. I've been playing tabletop roleplaying games for longer than I care to admit and the constant presence of Ressurection spells always kind of kills some of the potential drama of a lot of situations that should be Very Big Deals.
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!:
Well... Ok, it's not fantasy, but it is true, which may count for something.
So, I work in a movie theater in the downtown area of a small city that wants to be big. It's a chihuahua of cities, really, small and weirdly aggressive at times, but also mostly harmless. Being cheap entertainment near bars, I get to meet a lot of the local color. Which is a charitable way of saying, "drunk people have thrown tables at me."
I was a projectionist for a while, before spazzing out and damaging some rather expensive property (more on that another time, maybe,) and so assisting the manager with closing checks was part of my daily chores. If you've ever left through the back door of a big movie theater, you may be familiar with the labyrinth of dingy access corridors winding around out of sight of that timeless 80s geometric decor. It was our job, usually well after midnight, to poke our nose around in -all- of them and make sure no vagrants were trying to camp out there. This is the stuff ghost stories are made of. Your feet and voice echo, you don't care to identify the smells and stains on the walls, fluorescent tubes flicker, and sometimes you these weird, hollowed-out sounds from the movies playing in the auditoriums that haven't emptied yet.
We'd found the candy displays on the upper floors broken that night. What couldn't be carried by the vandals had been left out for exiting patrons to grab. There was grumbling on our part, but it happens sometimes. We gathered what left ('Good and Plenty', mostly. Don't ask me why we sell it. Obviously people won't even /take/ the stuff free,) locked it up downstairs and went back to our work. I left my manager for a moment to run upstairs to turn off a projector, leaving a theater dark (I always found the dark booth windows really unnerving,) and as I was hitting the booth lights behind me, I hear this short, startled scream on my way back down the stairs.
Now, my manager is not a large woman, but no-nonsense, athletic, and often armed with a mag-lite. Frankly, if a physical altercation was about to happen, she had better odds than I do of roughing up any given bum. That being said, it wasn't really chivalry that prompted me to sprint down the remaining stairs, but a sick hope of seeing a tiny woman lay out one of the alcoholic troglodytes that linger around our place. What I -did- see was her standing mortified at the exit doors, staring as if in a trance into the exposed, dimpled, posterior of a half-naked man in the upper-half of a gray track suit lying face-down in a heap of Red Vines and Skittles, sleeping like a baby. Apparently on his way out from a daring candy heist, his sweat pants fell down around his ankles, and with his hands occupied he landed face-down in his haul, whereupon he fell sound asleep.
We called the police, who woke him up.
He swore he'd been framed.