1. What is the name of your main as well as level and class?
Pruddlebuns, 86 Warlock
2. What is your age?
3. What guilds have you been with in the past, and why did you leave them? Please provide as much detail as necessary.
Knightguard on Firetree. I left them because I stopped playing WoW for like a badillion years.
4. Do you have any friends currently in Scalebane? If so, who & how do you know them? (Family, real life friend, etc.)
Riku is my girlfriend. She told me that she would date me because I'm a warlock.
5. What best describes you now that you're level 100 (or once you are 100)?
A. I like to socialize, mess around, or whatever I'm in the mood for that day.
6. Are you interested in guild raiding content? If so, what are your preferred roles?
Yeah, sure. I main tanked as a warrior (still have her at level 107) for my guild through BC and WotLK, and an additional affliction lock (this little chica) in WotLK.
7. What role do you wish to perform while raiding? (Healer, Tank, DPS). Are you able to perform other roles if needed?
DPS, can tank on my warrior as well.
8. Can you give us a brief summary of what your armor & weapons are like or provide a link to your armory page?
9. Can you describe what raiding experience you have? Are you familiar with current content?
I raided through BC and WotLK. Haven't raided since.
10. What made you want to apply to Scalebane?
I had to in order to get a girlfriend.
11. Do you have any friends or family that will apply to Scalebane if you are recruited?
My two best friends: my right fist and my left fist.
12. Are you currently applying to other guilds?
I had played the field for a while, but I am ready to be exclusive. I need monogamy in my life.
13. Are there any situations in the past that may affect your reputation that you would like to explain?
In high school, I almost got arrested for "terrorism". It was really dumb.
14. Are you the only one who plays your character?
When I stopped playing for like ever, this Chinese gold farmer hacked my account and left me with like hundreds of Obsidium Ore? I now have a bank full of Obsidium Ore. In case the guild needs it, y'know?
15. Finally, tell us a little about yourself. We're first and foremost a guild about people, People > Loot.
I was born at a very young age. Growing up in the streets, I knew that someday I would be a star. While all of the other school children were playing games on the playground and going to birthday parties, I stayed in my room, practicing my operatic singing. And after a few years I got pretty danged good, if I do say so myself! I could sing up to a high G (a really high G because I was like 7 years old) and hold my breath for at least a dozen seconds.
But I had to be better. I had to sing harder. I had to have a bigger range, more breath control. I had to be able to sing while dancing. My music teachers demanded it. My mother cried to me that I had to be the best. "Mama, I *will* be the best," I would tell her. Many sleepness nights took over my third grade year, many times were the police called for noise complaints. But I would be the best, if I ever could.
I promised myself this.
I made it to the local clubs, singing for all the happy upper-class folk. My voice delighted them! "Look at this boy sing!" they would say, as my internal inferiority complex battled itself. And yet I rose. Posters had my face on it, newspapers wrote about the wonderous singing boy, taking on the world. Businessmen would take their wives to my shows, and women would throw their soiled garments at me on stage (though I wasn't particularly fond of the smell). Kings of society would ask me to go to parties with them, enjoy delicious foods, the company of women. I lived a life at the top of society that most people couldn't even imagine. And with these parties, my worrying was less. I didn't worry as much. I practiced less... I drank more.
And then the alcoholism hit. And hit hard it did.
The parties became a lifestyle. Suddenly the greatness of my voice was no longer a concern, but a means to my end. And with my voice no longer a concern, that spot in my heart was filled with the craving for more. More drinks, more merriness, and less care for the voice. My mother would call me and I would ignore it. My life was no longer her concern. So what if I was missing the entire end of my elementary school? I didn't need school. I had made it.
But as I became more and more entranced with the pleasures of the drink, my voice quivered. My company became harsh. The foods tasted worse, the women were fewer, the crowds were less.
...Until it was just me in a dive bar, performing for girls with sad and sullen gray faces with distingue traces. But their looks, like my voice, had been washed away by too many 12 o'clocktails. And there we rot together, sipping at our martinis, waiting for life to become tolerable again.
Social Services came looking (as I had by now missed like all of the fourth grade), and when they found me gave up on the thought of me. "Leave the boy... the wonderous singing boy" but this time with a sting of sarcasm.
And eventually, after one night of drinking and singing, I had enough. I took a bottle of whiskey into the bathroom, and a bottle of sleeping pills. It was time for the long sleep, indeed. I drank and I swallowed... and for good measure, did the same again. My stomach burned, and my vision got blurry. I clenched the searing fire inside of my gut, knowing it would all be over soon.
After a few long minutes of writhing, all went black.
But that was not the end of my life.
I awoke in a hospital. My mother ran to me, I vaguely remember. This is all quite blurry to me. But from what I gather, I had been in a coma for more than a few days. The doctors were able to pump my stomach, to kill my attempt at jumping into the abyss. They brought me back to this lonely, cruel life. Bastards.
And in the process of my stomach-pumping, they took the only thing that made me special away. The tube that they shoved down my throat ruined it. Those doctors ruined my voice, they took it from me. Never again will I reach the top, never again will the crowds be amazed at me.
The teachers won't take me back. I'm too far gone for society. Though mother still loves me, she will never again give me the chances that she did. She knows that I'll burn those dreams into the ashes that describe my existence.
I think daily of those sleeping pills, and the drink. I crave to go back to them. I am at least comforted by the knowledge that they, my closest friends, are still there whenever I decide to call back on them...
And the only thing that has stopped me, is one more flickering dream. The smallest dream that I can muster at this point... I'll be the best WoWman around. I'll show those buiness kings what I'm still worth. I need to. It's all I have left. Give me this one last chance on life, and allow me to be the WoWman that I was destined to be... The Wonderous WoWing Boy.
Thu May 25, 2017 12:53 am
Please... I can't feel my hands anymore.
Tullen Guild Master
Joined: Mar 17, 2005
Location: Baltimore, MD
Thu May 25, 2017 1:27 pm
Please... I can't feel my hands anymore.
Do you need help? Did Riku tie you up? On second thought, never mind, I don't want to know...
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