[✔] [Accepted] Phantasy's Application

[Phantasy 37]

Out-Of-Character Information

The simplest section of the application! Simply answer these questions so we can get to know you a bit better.

What’s your Minecraft Account Name?: - Phantasies
How old are you?: - 26
What time-zone do you live in?: - Oceania


Have you ever roleplayed before - if you have, how?: - Yes. I have roleplayed once or twice in the past; memory of the exact medium escapes me.
Have you been on any other roleplaying servers?: - No.
Have you applied to this server before?(Please link past applications): - No.


How did you hear about us?: - A google search.
What do you think the server will be like? - A learning experience.
Have you read and agreed to the rules?: - Yes, I have.
What’s your favourite rule / the rule you agree with the most?: - I find the rule warning against the over-use of localized out-of-character chat as a particular favorite amongst the others listed.


Definitions

This
is simply so that we can get an understanding of how much you know
about roleplaying. Feel free to Google the answers, but make sure that
you write the reply in your own words, not another website / person's!

What is roleplaying?: - Roleplaying is the act of stepping into the shoes of another, seeing the world through a new set of eyes, and living the person's life, however brief, with every word and every action.

What’s metagaming?: - Metagaming is the use of information gained out-of-character for in-character purposes.

What’s powergaming?: - Powergaming is the act of depriving another person of choice or the right to action, stripping control of the character from the owner.

In-Character Information

Now
you actually make your character - be creative but stay reasonable!
Make sure they make sense and that they follow lore. Try to come up with
a character that you actually want to play.

What’s your character called?: - Thomas Thackeray

What race are they (and sub-race)?: - Human (Northerner)

What sex are they?: - Male

How old are they?: - Nineteen years of age

Give us a brief description of their life - their story, childhood, family (Include server lore when writing): -

The young man traced a line across the clear night sky, encircling and connecting the dots - the stars that seemed to dance and sway away from his fingertips.

"It kind of looks like a sword," he muttered to himself. "Or a hare, or a fox, or even a skipping jack mule with three le- Bah! I've lost it." he exclaimed in quiet exasperation, setting his arms down by his sides.

He gazed at the distant lights, as he had been known to do on many an occasion as a wide-eyed, freckle-faced child of a lowly shanty town near Abresi. Upon a field near his home he lay pondering, wondering what fate, or destiny, or the divine powers-that-be held for crude, little, inconsequential him.

By day, he would toil the infertile grounds, working for scraps as his father had done, and his father before him. By night, Thomas would lie in his bed, of wool and matted straw, neither asleep nor truly awake, asking himself the bigger questions that would surface only in the quiet hours of the night.

"Senseless toil," he would think to himself. "Senseless, senseless, aimless, futile, pointless," he would go on to repeat in his mind until, at last, he would be drawn away by slumber and rest, heeding the alluring beckoning of the siren's call, and taken to distant, far away lands, both strange and yet oddly familiar. He would take to vermillion skies, soaring on wings of old pant-legs, and sail through boundless seas filled with pigeon's feathers and broken chariots, and fishing rods without string.

Then Thomas would wake, finding that the fair princess to whom he had just pledged his undying love was not a princess at all - no - but something different altogether.

Little Thomas Thackeray had dreamt of great things, although such dreams would inevitably face the harsh trampling of the twins, hope and disappointment, in the many years that would follow, reminding the little Thackeray why dreams are simply just as they are - dreams and nothing more.

Word had spread across town like wildfire that something had just made port that clear, countryside morning - something massive.

"My, how curious. I wonder what it could be." remarked a homely townswoman, peering off into the distance.

"A ship they say," remarked an older gentlemen. "And a mighty one at that, fresh from a voyage to foreign lands and haunted seas. I reckon they might have a trifle or two worth a look of sorts."

With that, the gentleman tipped his head and walked towards the square, joining the throng of villagers gathered by the docks.

Thomas Thackeray could not help but overhear the conversation. Now a few years older, he took the news in stride, opting instead to go about his usual, daily routine.

"Such folly," he murmured to himself. "When there is so much work to be done - just so much."

"Ship's 'ere, ship's 'ere!" said a shout from the town square. "Come see the marvels, come see the wares! Curious oddities and dreadful tales! Finest silk as light as airy gossamer! Trade yer foodstuffs and crops for bounties like no other!"

"Steel yourself, Thackeray." Thomas reminded himself. "We have much work to be done and we musn't concern ourselves with such trivialities."

He continued along the well-worn and uneven cobblestone path, his thoughts beginning to stray and wander to the docks on the far end of town.

"I wonder if they had ever encountered a witch of the frost on their travels or had seen a cockatrice perched in its nes- Oh Thackeray, childish whims and wide-eyed wonders have their time, and that time has passed. Work - we have much that requires doing."

He set off from the main road, the paved path giving way to trampled earth and wild, short grass. Every now and again, he would catch himself staring off in the direction of the bustling port, imagining the various sights and sounds, smells and tastes - all of which he was now missing.

"And for what?" he asked himself. "A rusty plough and a measly parcel of earth to toil and work, praying that fortune may for once look kindly upon me? Why must I be at the mercy of such cruel powers, waiting on endlessly for what may never occur?" he continued with a thin sigh.

Thomas raised his head and turned once more to the sea.

"No more," said Thomas, dropping his haggard hoe by the wayside. "Are great things not brought about by the works of men? Not by miracles or prayers to the divine, say I, but by action. I have grown weary and worn of waiting for fate - no more."

He stepped out from the fields, returning to the old cobblestone road. He fastened his belt and tightened his breeches, bracing himself for what was to come.

Thomas arrived at the port not long past the afternoon. The crowd had not diminished and the air was thick with chatter. He pressed on through the wide streets and narrow alleyways, elbowing his way through the throng of townsfolk.

When he had finally reached the docks, Thomas found himself before the sight of the large, sailing ship, gilded and inlayed with slivers of gold and silver. With white sails and bright oak wood, the vessel stood in great splendor, smelling of spices and herbs and of the salty sea.

He observed a moment of pause, shaking his head in mild disbelief.

"What a fool I had been," Thomas remarked. "Wheat and dirt - to think that I would have resigned myself from all this wonder, all for some measly scraps of wheat and dirt."

"Easy! Steady!" came a shout from within the ship. "For every crate that you lot break, fifty counts will be docked from yer pay! No meat for the clumsy, none for the slow! Easy, steady, go!"

Stepping onto the deck was a grizzled man of great stature; his was a scraggly beard of dark, chestnut brown, a proud mane adorning the man's hard, scarred face.

For a brief moment, Thomas saw himself in the man's place, barking orders and shouts at his motley crew.

There his course was set. He would go out into the world and seek his fortune. No more would he toil the lands for petty little. Thomas would step out into the light of the sun, brazen and bold, and make his own destiny, chart the course of his own existence.

In the dead of night, Thomas snuck aboard the grand vessel, bearing nothing but the clothes on his back and a satchel of bottled goods and loaves of dry, coarse tack. He hid himself in one of the many barrels - marking the start of his newfound adventure.

What are they like (personality)?: - Thomas is sensible yet prone to fits of fancy; all at once a dreamer and a pragmatist - equal parts reason and equal parts whimsy.

What are their ambitions?: - Thomas seeks a life of greatness, whatever that might be.

Do they have any special skills?: - No. Thomas is quite plain and wholly unremarkable.

What are their weaknesses?: - Thomas is neither as educated nor as learned as the wealthier and more privileged folk of his time; he bears all the weaknesses and frailties that come with having lived a life of poverty and toil, and with all the flaws that are naturally inherent in humankind.

Give us a description of how they look (not a screenshot yet!)?: - Thomas is of flimsy build, thin of bones and lean of flesh, and slightly above average in height. He possess nut-brown hair and a slight Southeron-like tinge to his otherwise fair and pinkish skin, due in part to his days of laboring out in the fields under the heat of the bright, scorching sun.

Anything else you want to say about them?: - There isn't any more.




Please give us a screenshot of your character’s skin: - http://imgur.com/n1R26um

[Aislin 4354]

 

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[Aislin 4354]

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[Sky 0]

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