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?: - greenluigi85
How old are you?: - 15
What time-zone do you live in?: - EST
Have you ever roleplayed before - if you have, how?: - Yes, on several other games. (Gmod, GTA SA)
Have you been on any other roleplaying servers?: - None MC-Centered
Have you applied to this server before? (Please link past applications): - None
How did you hear about us?: - Google
What do you think the server will be like? - I pray that this server won't have one of those people where they tend to afk because it looks cool to be leaning against a lamp post for the next two hours. Also hope they don't have those that won't interact with the yokels and peasants because its beneath them. I know, because I've fell victim to the RP server veteran's stigma before. I'm sure this won't be the case. If it is, then I guess I'll apply my lips as the jaws of life onto the clamped pairs of others. Don't read into that too much.
Have you read and agreed to the rules?: - Yes.
What’s your favourite rule / the rule you agree with the most?: - No permakills, seeing as they really demolish a person's sense of achievement and really forces a person to not become too attached to a certain character.
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 submerging yourself to a specific character, and acting out scenes that that character would usually find himself in, and would react to in his/her's own way. It could be done IRL if yer into that Orin a video game.
What’s metagaming?: - Metagaming is using methods to obtain information not via RP and using it within your RP's. These methods may include but does not specifically pertain to: outside conversation, private messages, game mechanics, non-rp visual aids, mind-reading.
(EX: A person is getting his ass kicked, calls for help via a PM and an army comes to his aid without any RP form of communication.)
(EX2: A person reads on the forums that a mass thief-a-thon is planned within a certain city, and bars his windows, doors, and children with twenty inches of spike diamond.)
What’s powergaming?: - Powergaming is giving oneself an unfair advantage over another, in order to win the situation and avoid the consequences. It generally demolishes the RP for everyone else.
(EX: A person dodges all the blows from his enemy, claiming he was a shaolin monk for the last twenty years before coming to Anthos)
(EX2: A person parkours around the map to avoid combat, because in his past life he was a monkey.)
(EX3: A person is beaten, harassed, and violated to the point of insanity, but does not give away any information cause he was an ex-spetsnaz operative.)
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?: - Benny Tinfield
What race are they (and sub-race)?: - Human
What sex are they?: - Male
How old are they?: - 22
Give us a brief description of their life - their story, childhood, family (Include server lore when writing): -
Abandoned as a child, he spent most of his adolescent life within a Kingston orphanage, learning to steal food without getting caught, and when he was, how to take/give a beating (latter came years on). When he hit the ripe age of ten, the orphanages 'generous' proprietor (A local thug using the orphanage as a front; the basement was strewn with numbers, blood and the occasional limb, courtesy of the loan sharks and their debtors) had passed away from a natural several stabbings to the chest in the entrance of a pub, so naturally the orphanage had begun to witness some tough times. The matron, an old and sour woman who only sobered up in order to properly aim the fire poker, had resorted to selling some of the children to slavers, in order to take care of the costs of the orphanage, which also translated to watered down piss drink. A dwarf or Kharajyr would sometimes make its way to the orphanage, though rare. They were the first to go. The White Rose bought the dark elves the moment she got the word spread. Soon the numbers dwindled, and not because of the generosity of newly weds or some celebrity nobles or desperate bachelorettes. The situation was so dire, that it became a race to look as skinny and malnourished as possible, so you wouldn't look healthy enough to do any form of manual labor.
Benny decided that he wouldn't die packed chest-to-pack to some other unfortunates on a slave ship, and in the dead of night stole away into the streets of Kingston. The matron rarely ever let them out, and sunshine was a rare commodity inside the musty bedrooms of the orphanage. By the time the church rang noon, he was mugged out of the majority of his possessions, and conned out of the rest by a game he had no sense of how to play. His first night in the town saw him sobbing to sleep on a thin layer of hay. The next morning he regained a tiny bit of his resolve, and sold his vest and shoes to a clothes shop, gaining only a fifth of their original value. But it was enough to buy him a burnt crust of bread, and he gnawed at it like a rat. Walking the streets, desperate and green to the ways of city life, he witnessed several boys running about, laughing and screaming delights. He wondered how they could possibly be so merry, when it seemed as though it was impossible to earn any form of a living. It was subtle, but managed to catch his eye how they reached into the fat pockets of a citizen, disguised as an attempt to gain attention only a child would demand. Their deft hands repeated this maneuver several times, as an accidental bump, a request for bread, or even a friendly slap on the ass for no apparent reason. No one cared, they were too busy earning a scarce, but honest living. His bright eyes watched, his dry lips said nothing. The boys noticed his admiration and jealousy, and brought him towards an abandoned boarding house, which was apparently a haven for the children his age. Soon he was well learned with the skill of 'hand-and-reach', as the children called it. But it was only designed for that specific height, and as years came and went, they found other venues of enterprise, and gradually lost their skill at pick pocketing.
He was twenty two, and a part of a group of ruffians fancying themselves as a street gang, but without a smart enough head to stay organized. They beat whichever tourist turned into their street corner, threatened any bartender for a night's drink: If they were denied, they trashed the joint. If they were drunk, they trashed the joint. He could easily say that the last twelve years were some of the best in his life, hands down. The complete closing of the city did not stop them, and they roamed the countryside as some form of bandit, armed with clubs and blackjacks, attacking the poor farmer taking his stock to the market, but shying away from the more dangerously armed guardsman escorting his lord home.
The gates reopened, and they came back home to their old haunts. Life was almost back to usual, until the orcs fell upon them all. He saw old friends cut down by crowds of blades. Former bravos screaming through the streets as they tried to hold onto to their severed arm, fumbling and lying to themselves on how it could be reattached. The buildings were lit aflame, but being the ever optimist, he saw it as a warning beacon to those that were lucky enough to not have entered the city yet.
When the night was over, and the orcs held the city within their grip, he crawled through the sewage with numerous others and escaped into a river riddled with feces and bodies. He trudged the road squishing his **** filled shoes along and ignored the travelers terrified gazes at the smoke cloud that rose above Kingston. Unaware of what to do, without direction, without purpose.
What are they like (personality)?: - Tenacious. Merciless and willing to routes seen as unorthodox or even immoral in order to achieve his goals.
What are their ambitions?: - To never depend on a stable to have a steady supply of hay to sleep on, or a baker to have some extra burnt pieces of bread.
Do they have any special skills?: - None conventional, but is good in a scrap.
What are their weaknesses?: - Too careless, inappropriate at times and abrasive to the law. Easily offended and inexperienced.
Give us a description of how they look (not a screenshot yet!)?: -
Shorter than average, bony, pale skin and dirty, short hair that looks as though it was cut with a kitchen knife. Raggedy clothes more suitable as kindling.
Anything else you want to say about them?: - No.
Please give us a screenshot of your character’s skin: -
