07-14-2014, 09:01 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-14-2014, 09:10 AM by 2ez4arteezy.)
First and foremost: Tell us about yourself, as a player:
I tried PVP, but WoW PvP was a bit too fast paced for me(read: I sucked). But I found roleplaying interesting enough to have done it for at least a couple of years, of course with breaks, high school, social life and now uni tend to leave me with little to no free time. I think I'm fairly good. I like writing and reading so it comes naturally.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
Well, I come from Serbia, lived for a year in the Republic of South Africa as a toddler, but we returned and regret it ever since. Serbian duh, but I've been exposed and using English since 3-4 years old.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Warcraft 3. Defense of The Ancients. Later on tried trial WoW and got hooked.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
I googled you.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Don't have any preferences, but I don't like tavern RP, aka just sitting and chatting.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
None in particular. I like to think I'm flexible enough to assume most points of view. I'm a jack of all trades?
What are your expectations of this server?:
Eh, fun, I guess? Yeah, fun.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Tolerance. Mostly because I've ran into a few condescending people on wow rp private servers that were, mind my language, entitled brats that put down other people and used their characters for an ego boost.
Did you know that we have a Mentor Program? It's entirely voluntary and you as a new player can sign up for it right now in your introduction! Are you interested in signing up to be assigned a Mentor? If so, say so here (Please enter at least "Yes" or "No"):
No. I think I don't need a mentor. But can I apply later on if I change my mind?
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!:
Sorry for the mistakes if there are any, didn't spell check it. I don't know how to add spoilers here so I'll just paste the whole thing.
"The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that is the essence of inhumanity."
- George Bernard Shaw
I awoke to the sound of my own breathing, the lids of my eyes slowly parting to set sight on a blue sky. There was lush grass beneath me, the soft scent of earth and newly blossomed flowers awaking my senses from their slumber.
I sat up slowly, finding myself on a delightful meadow outlined by a lavish forest.
My lips parted in a careful smile, as I rose to my feet, peering around myself in wonder.
The distinct chirp of birds could be heard. Like a cheerful melody performed in the lucullan crowns of the distant trees.
My chest fell slowly, the smile upon my lips blooming in a joyous thrill. I set forth over the meadow, the gentle sun above warming my skin. A playful summer breeze caressing my cheek with care.
I found my feet to be bare, yet the grass below provided dulcet footing as I traversed it.
How the colors of life seem so much more vivid than what they truly are when beholding them in your last moments.
My smile grew further as I reached the stout trees, their lavish foliage of leaves providing shade as I set forth into the forest.
Only scarce rays of light pierced the green veil above, the lush grass beneath me now impaired by sticks and stones.
Such terrain was not as easily traversed on bare feet, and as I walked I would wish myself back to the lush grass of the meadow.
As I trekked deeper, thoughts of how I had found myself there this fine day began to churn within my mind.
I had driven to work the morning before, donning my usual black tie and discretely pressed shirt, matched with a beige pair of slacks and conformist leather shoes.
Amusing, how on father’s day, I was always given the same tie. Perhaps it was a jest, I had thought. Always laughing politely, prudently.
I had parked in the usual lot, taking the stairs rather than squeeze into the elevator with my co-workers.
While walking to my cubicle I had bid each person I came across a good morning, then I had comfortably seated myself and began the day’s assignments.
My work rate had been stellar over the last five years, the good manager having proclaimed a bright future for me within the company. It is almost laughable, how sincere he had come across, as he spoke of my efforts as inspiring.
For all intents and purposes, that day did not hold any promise of being any different, as it did.
The reason why still eluded me as I trekked through the forest, my rampant thoughts seizing first as I came upon a small stream.
The few rays of sunlight piercing the tree crowns shimmered brilliantly over the water, enticing me to kneel down and be greeted by my smiling reflection.
To my dismay, my presentable exterior had been tarnished by last night’s endeavors. My carefully pressed shirt had been creased, and It soon occurred to me that its fabric had been horribly stained.
Such flaws bothered me.
I had spent close to an hour on the phone in my cubicle, with the intent of compiling information for a report which was soon due.
I had been very well mannered, as always. My inquiries a shining example of a fine professional standard, eloquent and courteous perfection.
Baffling enough, I was met with continuous scoffs and rude replies. Finding myself hung up on, and interrupted.
I did not think much of this at first, yet by the tenth consecutive rude reply I came to a realization.
For a lifetime, I had upheld a pleasant exterior, adapting as a model citizen of society. Weary of losing myself. Or rather, knowing what displaying my true self would bring.
This was the day that I would lose myself completely.
It came to be that such seemingly insignificant words caused my mask of sanity to slip. Regrettably, their impact had already formed an ordeal within my mind. A deep, churning hatred that has been nourished over years. Malicious compulsions tearing and clawing to free themselves.
I remember going to the elevator, my calm, even steps showing nothing of my inner turmoil.
I had gone to my car, where I reached into the glove compartment, past the old financial magazines and the bottle of old number 7 whiskey.
I took a few moments to inspect my Glock 17, before carefully letting the magazine slide out to leave the ten polished 9x19mm Parabellum rounds on display. Interesting, how I had told my wife that I had purchased it to ensure the safety of our family. Now, this tool meant for protection would be used for something so contrary.
Dreamily, I admired it.
Fueled by the regrettable ordeal, I took the elevator to the first floor upon my return. Flipping the emergency stop switch as I stepped out.
One would think that such remarks, although ill-mannered would not be enough to rob a man of his senses. Yet, as I moved down the small aisle of the office my doubt was replaced by certainty.
Screams would soon spread, as I pumped round after round into those in sight. I remember that the recoil of the Glock rushed unpleasantly up my arm, but I did not let it distract me from my objective.
I worked my way down the rows of cubicles in bemusement, laying waste to all who hid, crying and pleading within.
How the feeling of a person letting go could be shared without words.
An empty stare, from tear filled eyes. Perhaps a slight convulsion, an awkward gargle of the throat. The eyes, rolling back into the skull. just as I had imagined.
My insipid perception of reality would transcend into emotive awareness, for the first time in my life.
Clinging to these newfound feelings, I left the first floor bathed in the blood of my co-workers. Only to traverse the stairs to the second.
I found them huddling by the elevator, screaming while they clawed at the dull metal doors in desperation.
In a hail of bullets, the pitch of their screams would raise, only to fade as their bodies fell together in a morbid pile.
I had shattered their unjustified sense of security, reducing them to disfigured husks of flesh littering the cheap office floors.
I would approach, and watch the perforated heap in disgust.
I think I went mad then.
Memories blur, as I think back. Fantasy is left but a lucid reality. Reality itself mirrored, through my skewed view of it.
I remember little of my delirious journey to the meadow.
I must had sped down the highway, traveling beyond the dawning sun until nothing but open landscapes of arable land and a distant forest was to be seen around me. I had pulled aside, venturing out into one of the crop fields.
I might had partaken in a strong drink, as I believe I sang a great deal. Laughing oddly, because I wasn’t really good at it. The manner in which I perceived my surroundings were far more intense than the heaviest of intoxications.
I remember running as far as my legs allowed me, crossing over into a forest.
I traversed its rough terrain, with nothing but the slighted shine of the gibbous moon to light my way.
I must have collapsed on the meadow, and slept only to awake to the somber state I now find myself in.
My memory has little more to offer, and my reflection does not answer my questions. My feigned smile remains on my lips, a jeering trait of deception.
My exterior, perfected over a lifetime of lies. A mask placed upon me, to veil the perversion that I truly am.
Sadly, it is too late to return to such charades.
For although you can press my hand, and feel a human warmth, and although I might look at you, and project plastic empathy,
there is no care, nor genuine emotion.
Reality descended into delusion. Fantasy blurred into the same. I am left with nothing, without the means to pretend that I care for anything, or anyone.
I wandered down the stream, pondering what was to become of me. Perhaps, last night’s events were but a malefic figment of my imagination.
Or perhaps, the families of my co-workers found themselves in the morgue this very moment. Weeping over the perforated corpse of their mother or father, screaming in deplorable disbelief.
I soon realized, that I did not have the presence of mind to tell. Odd, you may think, how such a seemingly conformed individual, as myself, can be something else entirely.
I wonder, how many others share this compulsion of mine? To reign terror, and despair. Only to look upon the chaos they've created with indifference.
I leave these pages behind not as a testament. Nor a catharsis of guilt.
I simply wish the world to realize, that I am not alone. Somewhere, there is a brother, a husband and a father. A daughter, wife and a sister. What you may bluntly define as madness churning within their minds, longing for sweet release.
When triggered, they will burn this society to the ground. And they will watch you succumb to the scorching flames.
I take a moment now, pulling my Glock 17 from my pocket. I let the magazine slide out, to leave the ten polished 9x19mm Parabellum rounds on display.
I wade out into the stream, placing the barrel in my mouth.
I pull the trigger, indifferent.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nein.
I tried PVP, but WoW PvP was a bit too fast paced for me(read: I sucked). But I found roleplaying interesting enough to have done it for at least a couple of years, of course with breaks, high school, social life and now uni tend to leave me with little to no free time. I think I'm fairly good. I like writing and reading so it comes naturally.
What country do you come from? What is your primary language?:
Well, I come from Serbia, lived for a year in the Republic of South Africa as a toddler, but we returned and regret it ever since. Serbian duh, but I've been exposed and using English since 3-4 years old.
How did you get into Warcraft?:
Warcraft 3. Defense of The Ancients. Later on tried trial WoW and got hooked.
How did you find us? Did anything in particular draw you to the server?:
I googled you.
What kinds of roleplay do you enjoy?:
Don't have any preferences, but I don't like tavern RP, aka just sitting and chatting.
What is your favorite race/class? Why?:
None in particular. I like to think I'm flexible enough to assume most points of view. I'm a jack of all trades?
What are your expectations of this server?:
Eh, fun, I guess? Yeah, fun.
Out of all of our rules and regulations listed on our server, which appeals to you the most?:
Tolerance. Mostly because I've ran into a few condescending people on wow rp private servers that were, mind my language, entitled brats that put down other people and used their characters for an ego boost.
Did you know that we have a Mentor Program? It's entirely voluntary and you as a new player can sign up for it right now in your introduction! Are you interested in signing up to be assigned a Mentor? If so, say so here (Please enter at least "Yes" or "No"):
No. I think I don't need a mentor. But can I apply later on if I change my mind?
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!:
Sorry for the mistakes if there are any, didn't spell check it. I don't know how to add spoilers here so I'll just paste the whole thing.
Indifferent
"The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that is the essence of inhumanity."
- George Bernard Shaw
I awoke to the sound of my own breathing, the lids of my eyes slowly parting to set sight on a blue sky. There was lush grass beneath me, the soft scent of earth and newly blossomed flowers awaking my senses from their slumber.
I sat up slowly, finding myself on a delightful meadow outlined by a lavish forest.
My lips parted in a careful smile, as I rose to my feet, peering around myself in wonder.
The distinct chirp of birds could be heard. Like a cheerful melody performed in the lucullan crowns of the distant trees.
My chest fell slowly, the smile upon my lips blooming in a joyous thrill. I set forth over the meadow, the gentle sun above warming my skin. A playful summer breeze caressing my cheek with care.
I found my feet to be bare, yet the grass below provided dulcet footing as I traversed it.
How the colors of life seem so much more vivid than what they truly are when beholding them in your last moments.
My smile grew further as I reached the stout trees, their lavish foliage of leaves providing shade as I set forth into the forest.
Only scarce rays of light pierced the green veil above, the lush grass beneath me now impaired by sticks and stones.
Such terrain was not as easily traversed on bare feet, and as I walked I would wish myself back to the lush grass of the meadow.
As I trekked deeper, thoughts of how I had found myself there this fine day began to churn within my mind.
I had driven to work the morning before, donning my usual black tie and discretely pressed shirt, matched with a beige pair of slacks and conformist leather shoes.
Amusing, how on father’s day, I was always given the same tie. Perhaps it was a jest, I had thought. Always laughing politely, prudently.
I had parked in the usual lot, taking the stairs rather than squeeze into the elevator with my co-workers.
While walking to my cubicle I had bid each person I came across a good morning, then I had comfortably seated myself and began the day’s assignments.
My work rate had been stellar over the last five years, the good manager having proclaimed a bright future for me within the company. It is almost laughable, how sincere he had come across, as he spoke of my efforts as inspiring.
For all intents and purposes, that day did not hold any promise of being any different, as it did.
The reason why still eluded me as I trekked through the forest, my rampant thoughts seizing first as I came upon a small stream.
The few rays of sunlight piercing the tree crowns shimmered brilliantly over the water, enticing me to kneel down and be greeted by my smiling reflection.
To my dismay, my presentable exterior had been tarnished by last night’s endeavors. My carefully pressed shirt had been creased, and It soon occurred to me that its fabric had been horribly stained.
Such flaws bothered me.
I had spent close to an hour on the phone in my cubicle, with the intent of compiling information for a report which was soon due.
I had been very well mannered, as always. My inquiries a shining example of a fine professional standard, eloquent and courteous perfection.
Baffling enough, I was met with continuous scoffs and rude replies. Finding myself hung up on, and interrupted.
I did not think much of this at first, yet by the tenth consecutive rude reply I came to a realization.
For a lifetime, I had upheld a pleasant exterior, adapting as a model citizen of society. Weary of losing myself. Or rather, knowing what displaying my true self would bring.
This was the day that I would lose myself completely.
It came to be that such seemingly insignificant words caused my mask of sanity to slip. Regrettably, their impact had already formed an ordeal within my mind. A deep, churning hatred that has been nourished over years. Malicious compulsions tearing and clawing to free themselves.
I remember going to the elevator, my calm, even steps showing nothing of my inner turmoil.
I had gone to my car, where I reached into the glove compartment, past the old financial magazines and the bottle of old number 7 whiskey.
I took a few moments to inspect my Glock 17, before carefully letting the magazine slide out to leave the ten polished 9x19mm Parabellum rounds on display. Interesting, how I had told my wife that I had purchased it to ensure the safety of our family. Now, this tool meant for protection would be used for something so contrary.
Dreamily, I admired it.
Fueled by the regrettable ordeal, I took the elevator to the first floor upon my return. Flipping the emergency stop switch as I stepped out.
One would think that such remarks, although ill-mannered would not be enough to rob a man of his senses. Yet, as I moved down the small aisle of the office my doubt was replaced by certainty.
Screams would soon spread, as I pumped round after round into those in sight. I remember that the recoil of the Glock rushed unpleasantly up my arm, but I did not let it distract me from my objective.
I worked my way down the rows of cubicles in bemusement, laying waste to all who hid, crying and pleading within.
How the feeling of a person letting go could be shared without words.
An empty stare, from tear filled eyes. Perhaps a slight convulsion, an awkward gargle of the throat. The eyes, rolling back into the skull. just as I had imagined.
My insipid perception of reality would transcend into emotive awareness, for the first time in my life.
Clinging to these newfound feelings, I left the first floor bathed in the blood of my co-workers. Only to traverse the stairs to the second.
I found them huddling by the elevator, screaming while they clawed at the dull metal doors in desperation.
In a hail of bullets, the pitch of their screams would raise, only to fade as their bodies fell together in a morbid pile.
I had shattered their unjustified sense of security, reducing them to disfigured husks of flesh littering the cheap office floors.
I would approach, and watch the perforated heap in disgust.
I think I went mad then.
Memories blur, as I think back. Fantasy is left but a lucid reality. Reality itself mirrored, through my skewed view of it.
I remember little of my delirious journey to the meadow.
I must had sped down the highway, traveling beyond the dawning sun until nothing but open landscapes of arable land and a distant forest was to be seen around me. I had pulled aside, venturing out into one of the crop fields.
I might had partaken in a strong drink, as I believe I sang a great deal. Laughing oddly, because I wasn’t really good at it. The manner in which I perceived my surroundings were far more intense than the heaviest of intoxications.
I remember running as far as my legs allowed me, crossing over into a forest.
I traversed its rough terrain, with nothing but the slighted shine of the gibbous moon to light my way.
I must have collapsed on the meadow, and slept only to awake to the somber state I now find myself in.
My memory has little more to offer, and my reflection does not answer my questions. My feigned smile remains on my lips, a jeering trait of deception.
My exterior, perfected over a lifetime of lies. A mask placed upon me, to veil the perversion that I truly am.
Sadly, it is too late to return to such charades.
For although you can press my hand, and feel a human warmth, and although I might look at you, and project plastic empathy,
there is no care, nor genuine emotion.
Reality descended into delusion. Fantasy blurred into the same. I am left with nothing, without the means to pretend that I care for anything, or anyone.
I wandered down the stream, pondering what was to become of me. Perhaps, last night’s events were but a malefic figment of my imagination.
Or perhaps, the families of my co-workers found themselves in the morgue this very moment. Weeping over the perforated corpse of their mother or father, screaming in deplorable disbelief.
I soon realized, that I did not have the presence of mind to tell. Odd, you may think, how such a seemingly conformed individual, as myself, can be something else entirely.
I wonder, how many others share this compulsion of mine? To reign terror, and despair. Only to look upon the chaos they've created with indifference.
I leave these pages behind not as a testament. Nor a catharsis of guilt.
I simply wish the world to realize, that I am not alone. Somewhere, there is a brother, a husband and a father. A daughter, wife and a sister. What you may bluntly define as madness churning within their minds, longing for sweet release.
When triggered, they will burn this society to the ground. And they will watch you succumb to the scorching flames.
I take a moment now, pulling my Glock 17 from my pocket. I let the magazine slide out, to leave the ten polished 9x19mm Parabellum rounds on display.
I wade out into the stream, placing the barrel in my mouth.
I pull the trigger, indifferent.
Is there anything else you would like to add, ask, or otherwise clarify?:
Nein.
![[Image: Kappa.png]](http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20131126013116/adventuretimewithfinnandjake/images/8/81/Kappa.png)
![[Image: RtK7PiZ.png]](http://i.imgur.com/RtK7PiZ.png)
![[Image: nIapRMV.png?1]](http://i.imgur.com/nIapRMV.png?1)
![[Image: 11.jpg]](http://www.nodiatis.com/pub/11.jpg)
![[Image: 35jge0y.gif]](http://i58.tinypic.com/35jge0y.gif)