Staff Search #5

[gm bourgeois decadence [aya]]

It's that time of year again — actually, there's no set time of year, it's just whenever we need people. And right now, we're feeling a bit short-staffed, so we're looking for two new minions to join the ranks of people with pretty-colored names. We're simply looking for one new Librarian and one new Moderator.

The staff search will be closed on Thursday.

To apply, copy the form and fill it out in a reply to this thread.

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b] (Age will not really be an important factor when we look over your application, but it is good for us to know)
[b]Preferred Position:[/b] (Librarian/Moderator/No Preference)
[b]Previous experience:[/b](Have you ever been on the staff of a site before?)
[b]Why should we choose you?[/b]

[b]Roleplay Sample:[/b] (ONE is sufficient, thank you.)

[b]Other:[/b]

[∂αмєη]

Name:
Damen Drew Storm
Age:
16
Preferred Position:
Moderator, but either is amazing.
Previous experience:
I am the admin on Fight For Flight, and used to be a board admin on Neoseeker Forums. I've been just a normal moderator on a few other sites, and used to be the Global Moderator on an old Pokemon RP site that closed down.
Why should we choose you?
Ultimately, the decision is up to you. However, I can tell you that if I were to be any sort of staff member, I'd give 110%, and do whatever I could to help. I'd be very dedicated to the job, which I've probably already proved by being on this site almost every day. I know there have been several times where I have proved immaturity, but also times where I have proved to be mature, especially in times where I'd have to do something actually important. There's plenty of people out there competent and worthy of the position, so I can't say anything that makes me better than them. But as I said, I will try my hardest in anything that I have to do. I also have some experience with being a staff, so I know how to handle the staffly duties. It would be an honor to work for any site, but this site would be the biggest honor for me. It's always a member's dream to someday work for his favourite site, so, that's why I'm here. I am also well organized, and can be friendly and helpful. Anyways, it's ultimately up to you, and anything I say won't make a difference to your original first impressions of me. Either way, thank you for giving me the opportunity to apply, and to be a member on this amazing site.

Roleplay Sample:

Gage Cooper
.|Here's my Bio|.

Oh I've been going through a hell of a time
Making sense of all that you left behind
When I arrange it into columns and lines
I always think it's adding up, but it never does.

[/color]

Your eyes never truly open to see all the things around you until you've witnessed enough hurt and pain. The kind that makes those innocent ones cringe from the sight, or the kind that makes you want to let all the bile forming in your mouth go. My eyes were innocent, ones that only ever read about the horrible lives people lived. The fiction books were the only things that opened up the dark side of the world. That was until all I saw was hurt, through the eyes of my old co-worker.

She always had a look of confusion, as if she didn't know what to feel. When our lips touched for the first time, it seemed like all she would've felt were conflicting feelings. When she said love, the same look was in her eyes, showing the emotional pain she must've been going through. None of that could compare to my pain though, both physical and emotional. My arm was still tied up in a sling, the bruises still covering my whole body. The results of a horrible accident, that I really had no control over.

The doctor kept explaining to me that it was my fault. I was the one that walked off the side of the cliff, and hit the ledge. At first, I didn't actually understand her, because I didn't remember anything about the accident. Then, once the injuries were more prominent, I remembered. But I still can't remember that it was my decision, or why I even would do that. The events before that are so hazy in my mind. The girl, who's name is one of those memories that left, caused me so much pain. What kind of pain though, and why I had it is a mystery still. And it sucks because I know I'll never get the memories back.

The path from the hospital to the forest has acted like my third home for the past month. The hospital, being the second, has me under an exercise period, so I can get back the strength I had before I decided to fuck my body up. They hope to make me stronger than I've ever been, which really isn't that hard. And I can't say I hate the exercise. The energy that I have, the extra strength. It's a huge gift that I get from just jogging down the path for an hour, and working out in the gym they have for an hour or two.

It also provides a way to communicate with the citizens that walk down the path too. They keep me updated on the current news of the Capitol, the Games, everything. The Games are a difficult topic though, seeing as one of the tributes is already gone, and another still remains. Nobody really knows if they could be talking to a sibling or friend of one of the tributes. Still, it provides a way for me to try and be more social. The accident did alot more than break my bones, bruise my body, or ruin my memory. It made me wake up, and try and get more friends.

That's why I stop when I see the beautiful girl just a bit away. My heart has only ever felt attraction once in it's life of beating, but that girl has left no impression. I can't even remember her name, let alone her face. So, when my heart starts beating faster, I know I have to meet this girl, to try and get the feeling of attraction once more. But I can remember that girl. She was my co-worker or something. The memories confuse me, and the only way to stop would be to talk to the girl. My feet carry me over to her. My tongue runs across my dried lips, preparing them for the speech that is to come.

"Hi. Name my is Gage." I stammer, and then put my head into my hands. This is why you were never social Gage.[/font][/size][/blockquote][/justify]

Other:
Alright, so, this is an awesome site, and it would be awesome to be a bigger part of it, but whoever you chose will probably be awesome, and deserves it. (:[/size][/blockquote]

[shrimp]

Name:

shrimpeh (username is shrimp).

Age: 15, will be 16 in January

Preferred Position: No Preference, to have either one would be rather amazing

Previous experience:

Co-admin at Fight for Flight

I was also a moderator (was promoted to admin) at a site I ran with a friend, but it died after a year.

Why should we choose you?

I feel that I have a good sense of organization, as well as being friendly and helpful to others. I can critique characters relatively well, as shown in Fight for Flight. I am also decent with Photoshp CS, CS2 and CS3 (although I own CS2; Digital Photo class uses CS, and Computer Art class uses CS3, therefore making it somewhat ridiculous that I'm working w/ 3 different versions at the same time).

If necessary I can do some small bits of coding. Furthermore, since you almost always see me on here (despite my horrible grade in that mole quiz -dies-), I will most definitely be active.

Roleplay Sample:

Oct 24, 2010 19:51:43 GMT -5 shrimp said:

<jean miles>

[/font][/color]

I couldn't stand it any longer. The pompous atmosphere in District 10 was eating me alive. Day after day after day, tormented by those bitches that I call my neighbors. Laughed at, insulted, ridiculed. Simply because back then I was a spineless-mouse who had the unfortunate luck to be sexually assaulted and almost murdered by some man with too much time on his hands. And then I kept the pregnancy. Yes, my social status plummeted after that. But did I keep my resolve? Yes. For a while, I held my head up high, laughed at my predators. But eventually, when she was a stillborn, the laughter just... stopped. Along with the happy Jeanette Miles that people knew.

I just... stopped trying. I did learn how to defend myself, yes - but I just died. The spark in my eyes just faded away until all you could see was an empty black hole, sucking all of life's passions into its mysterious depths.

But then I met him. Griffin. I had been wandering toward the grave-site again. It was near the fence, so I saw him. It was a mere shadow at first, so naturally I reacted defensively. But he was friendly enough, and soon, I got to know him. Leader of the rebels. He needed someone to help get things in order. I could have been a defense specialist, or someone to guard the said rebels, but instead, he gave me a different job.

And as Vice President of the Uprising, I would be putting everyone I knew in danger. Thus, it would be of the utmost importance that I would get out of the District without being spotted.

So one night, when everyone else was asleep, I left. I gazed at their faces - their beautiful, loving faces. Sure, they got on my nerves half the time, but I still loved them. Leaving would be the best option for them. They wouldn't know what happened to me, and they wouldn't get in trouble for it... I mean, they can't be murdered for not knowing anything, correct?

But then I stopped at Mindy's bedside. Oh Melinda, with her constant meandering down to the docks. I would miss her most of all. But there was no doubt in my mind that she'd be targeted by some creep. So I did what I felt was best. When she awakens, there will be my dagger by her bed with a note.

I'm so sorry.

I switched the dagger for a switchblade, and left. I didn't look back - District 10 no longer held much meaning to me.

It took me much longer than I expected however. For a month I wandered through the woods, looking. I must have gotten lost. My water slowly dwindled, as did my food supply. I managed to kill a squirrel, but it was meager and only lasted for a single meal. So when I finally saw the encampment, relief flooded through my face. I wasn't going to die yet.

But the relief drained out of my system when I saw the bickering group that I was to help lead. Are they freaking serious? That is not going to help the cause at all. I came here to end the freaking Hunger Games, so my family would be better off. But this is what I left home for? To be smacked into the middle of a bunch of easily angered brats? Oh hell no. I'm far away, but I hear some girl yelling for everyone to stop. Her attempts are probably futile - they're too riled up already. There's no order. It's chaos.

So I casually wander into the clearing, a long shadow eminating from my 6 foot stature. I simply glare at everyone.

"If you think you're going to defeat the Capitol this way, you're all dead wrong. If we act like this, we're dead. We'll be strung up, our heads decapitated and hung over the side of the City Circle, just to prove that the Capitol is stronger than us. So do you want that?

The Capitol, they're a beast. A Huge, Powerful, Ugly Beast, just like thoses Hell-like alligator things in the arena right now. You're going to need to be level-headed, and not fight. You heard me bitches. No fucking fighting. That's just what the Capitol expects of us, to be a disorganized bunch of mangy fools.

So our goal is simple: To prove them wrong, and make them suffer. So if you can't do that without getting into a squabble over a sip of water, you're going to have a bullet through your brain faster than you can say 'Fuck'."

And with that said, I simply nod in greeting to Griffin, and take my place near the outskirts of the group.

The revolution is starting now. And I'm going to do my very best to get these idiots to think like a bunch of logical people for once.

Even if I die doing so.

[/color][/blockquote][/size][/justify][/quote]


Other:

This site is simply amazing, just saying. It is seriously one of the most friendliest, active sites I have ever been on (which isn't saying much b/c this is really one of the first RP sites I've ever joined). I have met so many awesome people and have wholeheartedly joined the cult- I mean fandom of the S Mantra. Therefore, it is most likely that whoever you choose will be epically amazing and helpful for the site.

Break a leg everyone!

[/blockquote][/size][/color]

[peanutpie]

Name: Glitter
Age: 13
Preferred Position: Moderator or Librarian. Whichever you think suits me best.
Previous experience:I have been an admin a few times, and I have mod capabitilites on "How Strange" a website I recently joined, along with being a graphic person on that site.
Why should we choose you?
I think you should choose "The Glitter" because she is active (yes, third person.) I think that I have pretty good skills socially, and I get along with pretty much everyone on the site. If I make a mistake, I don't dwell on it. If I do things people don't like, I fix it. I can be opinionated and at the same time be quick to do whatever I need to do.

I also think that I am decent at getting to things, and reviewing. I am devoted to this site and am on at least an hour a day. I think that I would be a great addition to your staff, and I would be glad if you were to accept me.

Roleplay Sample:
(Not my best, but usually around the amount I post)

Oct 10, 2010 11:13:43 GMT -5 @peanutpie said:

Phoenix Medona

[/font][/color]

“I want you to love me…
I want you to hear my confession
I want to be your obsession…”

Phoenix darted through the brush, her feet touching it lightly. No noise came from her gait, nothing rustled beneath her feet as she peered from the back of a log to see if people were lurking around in a nonchalant way. Of course, she wasn’t the only one who favored the silence of the forest, the dusky morning that drew breaths and made the warm fog engulf her in somewhat of a sweater.

Even though she wasn’t wearing one. She was wearing the only clothes that properly fit her. A black button up top, a pair of faded red cords. Her too-small oil leather shoes had been abandoned, as usual, in the tent, next to the pasteboard that served as a door. Her Mother had deemed this normal for Phoenix, and had went on with her normal ramblings, screaming at the middling children as they walked by, new or slightly used shoes, and all.

Not that Phoenix was jealous. Who could be envious of a few children who had a sibling, a house, and more clothes than Phoenix and her seven siblings put together? She tried to retain the secret curb, but she sometimes thought through the process of it all, making her feel guilty and heading back into the woods, camouflaged by the leaves she wove ever-so-tightly, perfectly mimicking the elusive woods. Well, the quarter of a mile that lead up to the fence.

She had always wondered why they didn’t stop at the woods, and she was told that each district had to have a minimum requirement of land. And, because most of the district was built in layers, one level after another, there wasn’t much need for the space. So they extended through the woods, hoping some district six dweller could find some comfortable shade or a nice hiding spot for hide and seek. Either way, Phoenix enjoyed the woods, but there was another reason: blending.

Not just into the shadows, either. It was more of a watching thing. She would pluck a dried apple from the tree by the tent, stick a piece of tessare ration bread in her bag, then take off into the woods, inexpensive binoculars hanging around her neck like an oversized necklace.

Then, she would take off to watch.

Who? Bear. Bear Keeni. The dark haired eighteen year old who’s startling dark brown eyes made her blue ones light up. She would lean against the ground, watching for any signs of anything. She pondered this for a second, twirling her brown hair around her finger. She leaned towards the inside of the log, pulling out a paper bag with something in it. This time it was a blown glass bottle, filled with what she was sure was spirits. She removed the paper bag, then flattened it out, pulling a stub of a pencil from her almost-threadbare pockets.

Her eyes lit up as she saw the paper bag was white, instead of brown. This gave the impression of real paper instead of gristly paper bags. The children who gave her two pennies for a drawing would pay more for it. She laid the paper bag on her lap and started to draw. She drew words, then made the words look eerie. “So here’s my confession… this time… this time…” The words leaked onto the page. She finally finished the drawing, it was lines.

Lines that weaved into another, creating a human profile. Bears. But, nobody else would know this. She had subconsciously drew the person she stalked. Phoenix continued to finish the drawing, adding a flourish over the corner. She carefully took a rock, cut it out and tucked it into her bag. It was a ritual for her, just like anything else.

Leaning on the log, she engraved her initials into the soft wood. Now, they knew she was thankful for the bag. She then pulled the binoculars from her neck and leaned against the log. It showed the profile of trees, and a human.

Was it bear? It was a bit far off to see. She pulled the apple from her bag and chewed on it for a second. Yes, she was positive it was him. She watched the smallest movements, the blink and mentally recorded it.

Oh, he had such a graceful blink. Both lids came down at the exact same time. Eyelashes fluttered in the process. She was acutely aware of each breath. She knew his routine; she knew pretty much anything.

Well, she was oblivious to the fact he was a cannibal, but still.

She just watched.

“I want you to want me
I want you to need me
I want you to hear my confession
I want to be your obsession.”

(((You dont have to respond until your done with your threads. I had a bout of muse, so I needed to post this. ))) [/blockquote][/blockquote]
[/quote]Other: [/size][/center][/blockquote][/color]

[sadniss everdeen]

Name: Chaos
Age: Thriteen, turning fourteen this month
Preferred Position: No Preference, either would be great
Previous experience:

Kind of. I've been a mod before, but it doesn't count because it hasn't really been active as of yet.

Why should we choose you?

Because I have no life I'm on here enough to manage things, and I think that I'll be able to help people with whatever they need here on the site. I've grown tremendously with my skills here even since I started out (which wasn't too long ago) and I'll just keep getting better. I like to think that I'm a good enough RPer to critique bios and things that would require such, but it's up to you to decide that. Oh, as an added note - I would struggle through the masses of un-critiqued bios to (hopefully) instruct them on how to make it acceptable without coming across as (overly) catty and instead actually helping. I have a lot of time on my hands that way. xD

Roleplay Sample: Thundy and I's D1 Thread

[semper]

[/b] Semper
Age: 16
Preferred Position: No preference
Previous experience: None
Why should we choose you? I may not be the brightest tool in the shed, but I can pull my share of work when it comes down to it. Sadly I’m not good with graphics or coding, but I think I do pretty well with lists and organizing things. I love this site dearly, and because of that, I’m willing to do whatever you’d like me to, even if it means trying to learn something new. I’m very active aside from broken Internet D:, so I’ll pretty much be here if ever you should need me for anything.

Roleplay Sample:

Sept 18, 2010 17:39:18 GMT -5 semper said:

bear Keeni
-bio-

It was just another day at the morgue -- for me, at least. No one else had turned up for their afternoon shift, so that left me all by my lonesome in the stinking room. Not that I minded, really; I loved it. Even the smell of rotting flesh was appealing to me. Maybe that was why no one else showed up today...

I pulled out my string bag, opening it and setting it on one of the metal tables. I reached in and pulled out a long serrated knife, smirking as light glinted the stainless steel that had faint red marks. Oh, the memories of how these stains got there... quite fun. I'd gladly stab someone again, too, but today I was taking the easy route: stealing from the morgue.

I searched through some papers on the nearby counter, seeing which corpses had been there the longest. Usually the older ones don't get dealt with as much, so those were the best ones to take from. "Here we go." I pulled out a paper that, along with a name, showed a picture of the corpse the day it arrived. So fresh and delicate... but it had been here nearly a week, nearing its time for disposal. Perfect pickings. "Daniel Garcias, you are mine." I smirked as I clenched his paper in my hand, reading about him while searching for his name on the body boxes that were stashed in the wall. Upon finding his name on the box, I opened the door and hauled out the tray his corpse was laying on, staring at it a moment. It was somewhat hard to believe that only about a week ago, this Daniel Garcias was running around, happy as can be. And yet here he was, rotting before me, about to be sliced up. Personally, I liked him better this way.

Bringing my backpack and knife over, I cautiously glanced back over my should to scan the room, making sure no one else was there. I was in the clear, so I smirked. Turning my attention back to the body, I drew a long gash on the guy's thigh, spreading the wound apart so I could scrape the flesh out from underneath the connective tissue and whatnot. Putting it into my backpack -- which had a special plastic lining I made just for this kind of luggage -- I began to fill it. I couldn't get very much from that thigh, so I closed the wound when I was done and hid any evidence of it that I could before moving to the other leg and doing the same thing. And once that was done, I moved to the calves, slicing both of them and scraping out the flesh. My backpack was hardly two-thirds full, but that would do; for a few days, at least. I was content with that.

Hiding all the evidence I could, I scooted the body tray back into the wall box and closing it. Going back to the counter, I grabbed a pen and put a "random" tick mark on the top right hand corner of the paper to let myself know in the future that I had already taken from this fellow. I put the paper back into its place and went back to where my backpack was, pulling on the strings to close the opening. Taking my knife, I couldn't help but lick some of the blood off of it. Coppery, sticky, and cold -- typical for a body that's been sitting for a week. Though, it was a bit more thick like molasses...

Once the knife and area had been washed, I wedged my knife between my jeans and skin of my hip, being held in place by a belt. Not that I needed to have it handy to wield, but--... okay, so I didn't have a reason for it to be there. I just felt like having it there, okay? I then slung the strings of my meat-filled pack over my shoulders and headed out of the morgue, checking out of my shift before heading into the street.

There was only a few other pedestrians on the street, which was understandable. Most would still be at work, though, because I always get out about an hour before normal day shifts end. That suited me fine since it was then less likely anyone would bump up against my sketchy backpack. Maybe that was why I had the knife hidden at my hip, so I could silence anyone who figured out my secret...

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/quote]

Other: I may have no experience with being staff, but I’m willing to try new things. :3

[/size][/ul]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

Name: Dee [[scaredofthedark93]]

Age: 17

Preferred Position: No Preference

Previous experience: Administrator on HungerGamesTrilogy.com (familiarity with staff jobs) | moderator of Thalia's Pine Tree (RP experience as a moderator; worked on claimings and such) | assistant admin of Mythworld RPG (familiarity with RP sites)

Why should we choose you? I am online daily, contributing at least an hour to the site. I know I am relatively new compared to most applicants, but I feel like I have a good grasp on what the community is like. Also, I have member relations skills; otherwise, I would have died on the other sites.

Coding is a forté of mine, considering how I've had to learn to grow accustomed to it. The main codings I have experience with are BBcode and php. I like to look through characters and think I can do a decent job in reviewing them. I also have minor skills in Photoshop and Microsoft Paint, examples are my signature and section titles in my characters' bios. Wow...that just sounded like a major brag paragraph. Yay ego. T.T

Roleplay Sample:

Coughing sounds could be heard from a distance, the sound carried by the cool wind that blew past the streets. The dark day was gloomy, the smog only adding to that effect. The streets were relatively empty, as it was early afternoon. They would soon be filled, though, with children running back to their homes. Soft footsteps could also be heard, breaking between the coughs every now and then.

Anni Dorst was holding on to her delicate frame as if one strong gust was going to blow her away. With her current posture, the wind might as well have blown her away. The shoulders were hunched over, her backbone the shape of a parenthesis. The main purpose for curling up as she did while walking was to keep herself warm, but it only made her seem smaller than she already was. The pausing-to-hack did not help the situation as she felt the cold reach her sides and slip between her skin. With the next breeze, Anni shivered as she stood, not sure if she should continue or not.

She was one of the few who had bolted out of class early, not seeing the need to stay and chat with her classmates. What would be the point, anyway? They didn’t care for her; she didn’t care for them. Story of Anni’s life. But as she braved the cold, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. There was no one else who would suffer with her. Not even her siblings wanted to bother with her. They both had their own life, their own friends to go home with. And Anni was just the lonely girl who got stuck in her miserable life.

At least home will be better— Anni had to stop herself from becoming too optimistic. She knew that going home wouldn’t be that much better than staying outside; there would be a storm either way. Her parents would be angry that she did not bring their “baby” home, that she looked like a mess, that she was a weakling for shivering in such “moderate” weather…Anni hated home. Well, she hated how her parents loved to nag at her, not the home entirely. She still had a fondness for the structure she had lived in for fourteen years.

The next gust of wind filled up every open space in Anni’s clothes. The chill crept up her arms and legs, causing her hairs to stand upright. She violently shook as the cold reached the core, her legs on the verge of collapsing. How did one stupid gust of wind shake her up that way? It was freaking air! Anni shook her loose strands of dark hair away from her face, trying to see which direction she was going. She knew she had to turn right down one of those streets, but usually she had someone else telling her when to turn. Being alone definitely put a damper on things.

After what she was sure was 8 crossings, Anni turned to the right. This road looked familiar, but it didn’t help much since most of the roads looked the same in the drab area. Anni clenched her coat together, trying to keep the warmth inside and also as a way to comfort herself. She never did like large, open spaces like this. It was easy to get lost in, something Anni was frequently afraid of. With a burst of energy, she moved forward, hoping that she would reach home.

“Oof!” she squeaked as she collided into some person. Anni took a step back, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. Already she knew that this person was taller than her, bigger than her, no doubt ready to harm her. She was a small girl too, a mere 4’11” that screamed “Hurt me!” like no other. The quaking of her body intensified, but it did not show as Anni tried to hold herself together. What were her chances if she started running? Would she be able to out run this person? She was obviously lighter than him or her, but she did not have the large stride the person would have on her. Anni’s mind was on overdrive as she couldn’t stop thinking about what her fate was going to be.

Other: I'm looking at the other applicants and then I realise...there is a crazy amount of people who are qualified for these jobs. I would like to wish everyone the best of luck even though two of you awesomesauce people are not going to need it.

[Skylar]

Name:
Age: I'm thirteen.
Preferred Position:

Becoming a Librarian would be absolutely amazing, but, most definitely, as most of us would say, I'd be absolutely satisfied with either.

Previous experience:

I've made quite a few sites, but I've never really had the will to finish them. Of course, I've been moderators on certain sites.

I'm Global Moderator on Hunger Games Origins. I was also Global Moderator on To Kill A Mockingjay.

Why should we choose you?

Why not? I have a pretty sufficient amount of knowledge when it comes to HTML coding, including what's necessary when updating the Character Directory. I'm very fond of making things look organized and easy to follow, and I like to put my input in things and try to make experiences the best they can be. I understand that everybody makes mistakes and may say some things that's not necessary, so I wouldn't be too strict. Of course, I'd be very strong on enforcing the rules and making people follow what's expected of them, but I wouldn't ban them the first time they did something wrong. [Nor would I ban anyone without the approval of another staff member.]

I enjoy RPing, a lot, and I also knew that "a lot" should be "a lot" instead of "alot."

Roleplay Sample:

Ocean Jones

^{a million years.
spent without ears.
for a single moment.
death.}

For a girl named Ocean Jones, she felt as beautiful as she'd ever felt. The stylists that had placed her in a black dress, the skirt coming down towards her knees before guiding its way away from her body, making a perfect circle at the base. Orange, yellow, and white pinstripes adorned the dress, each one fading into a different color every few seconds, a reminder of absolutely nothing other than a glowing ember of coal. The color pattern that the stripes made was a medley of flame colors, white, orange, yellow, red, blue. They resembled flames, they resembled fire, they resembled coal, they resembled the glowing of coal. They resembled District 12. The pinstripes were very subtle, however, so that, unless told what was happening in the dress, you could very easily only tell that something different was happening every few seconds.

Ocean's particular head stylist, a man named Lithias, had designed and placed her in this ensemble of beauty, the make up artist removing every last hair on her body that was seen as unattractive in the Capitol's eyes. They'd took a light paint brush and coated it in a shiny, powdery substance, covering her hands and some of her forearms in a very shiny, metallic powder, to resemble the coal dust that fell and landed on just about everything that was anything in District 12. Her hair, a black, silky straight head of hair was pulled back, was curled to he maximum, blue, red, white, yellow, and orange metallic ribbons running through it. It fell down her back, though maintaining the bounce of the curl, imitating her hair being set aflame. She was magnificent, despite Lithias' sour attitude about every aspect of Ocean. It seemed that he was angry that he'd had to be District 12's stylist, as its fashion pieces were most of the time ignored. 'Oh, it's just District 12. Nothing special.' 'Of course, District 1 looked amazing as always.'

Ocean sat in a chair, a smile spread across her face, hands laid in her lap, waiting to be signaled to be asked numerous questions, that surely, would fascinate at least 1 person throughout the nation of Panem. She felt that, though she maybe wasn't the most popular Tribute, if she could touch the heart of just one, just one, person other than her family throughout the nation, she'd be happy. It actually made her happy just thinking about it. If she were to make one person smile, or make one person have some type of attachment, she would have made her mark on Panem. If she made her mark on Panem, she would have made her mark for herself, to not be hated. To feel loved, to feel spiritually happy. Truly happy. So when a man dressed in black, a microphone attached around his ear and placed in front of his mouth motioned for Ocean to come on, she wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs and made her way to the center of the stage.

She had been told through a short, typed out piece of parchment with small vignettes after each paragraph, that the interview would consist of a few questions, and that for each Caesar was to ask, his exact words would pop up on a screen off to the side of the stage, and Ocean would read what she could silently, and answer to the best of her ability. Ocean saw this as both a game and a test of her abilities. If she read the question without stumbling upon a word or two, she'd win a point for that question. If she would miss a few words or so, a point would be taken away.

She looked out to the crowd of hundreds of Capitolites that had each and every eye locked on one single girl for a few minutes. As her head turned back to Caesar, she was hit in the face by an aroma of a tulip. There were many back home in District 12, particularly in the back yard of her house, and the scent made her life that much better. She carefully took a long, slow sniff of him, and stared into his golden shaded eyes. A smile, and her eyes darted off towards the screen.

Words began to appear, one after another, on the screen, and she read every one of them without a flaw. 'Here's Ocean Jones, a District 12 female tribute that's 15 years old.' She nodded.

One point.

The butterflies that once fluttered in her stomach were now gone. Sort of like a piano recital or a singing competition. Tons of butterflies, nervousness, before hand, but when it comes down to it, it's like nothing than it usually is. Just playing piano, or just singing to yourself. Ocean Jones wasn't being interviewed for anyone except herself and the one person that she planned on touching the heart of. She let out a nod.

'So, how [unknown word] do you feel about the Games now that you've seen your training score?' she'd lost one point. She was back down to zero. She cleared her throat, and answered what she'd heard. How she felt about the Games now that she new her Training Score. "Well, Caesar Flickerman, I feel actually quite bad. I mean, it's sort of sad that there's some people that got 10s and stuff, because it means that they're gonna do bad, but when you get a good score as I had, like a one, well, that means that you can do good and win the Games. I think it was like a sport named gofe? Where the lower that your score was means the more you're winning!" Ocean, of course, was completely wrong in this regard, for it was the opposite. The higher the score the better. 'Well, isn't it the [unknown word]?' One more lost point, making her at negative one, and an unanswerable question. "Uh, sure." Her face gleamed once more, though her heart was sinking. She was losing the Game.

Ocean Jones desperately tried to find a way to hear again, she pulled on her skin, she wiped her dress, she smiled larger than any smile ever seen, she shook her head. She was making herself look like a fool for nothing. She couldn't hear, she wouldn't be able to hear. 'Whoa, funky dance.' She was back to 0 points. She'd got that one right. Ocean Jones nodded and laughed. 'What has made you the most happy about the Capitol since you've been here?' She'd had trouble at first with the word 'happy', for it was an emotion that was rarely felt, even through all the cover ups. "Well, Caesar Flickerman, I just really like glitter and stuff that the people wear. It's really shiny and it makes them look like faeries. Who doesn't like faeries? It just sorta looks like your eyes, sorta. Except over the whole body. 'Cause they're golden and sparkly and stuff." 'Oh! Well thank you! I really do like the glitter too.' She giggled, not at what was said, but at the fact that she once more had one point.

It was the truth, too. She'd loved all the glitter and shiny things that the Capitol had to offer. The way the light reflected it and landed amongst her eyes was captivating, and when seeing someone who was a "Shiny", or so she called them. She found herself unable to look away when saw one of them, and that's why it took her a while to realize she was missing important point-winning words on the screen.

'Do you like anyone back in District 12?' Well, there was the one boy that she'd had a crush ever since she was 13 or so, but ever since she'd volunteered she'd thought nothing of him. She had thought of the Trace boy, from District 5, the one she'd helped trough spilled blood and glass. "Yup, Caesar Flickerman. Not there though. Here. Trace. He's really cool and.. what's the word? I think.. I think the word is hot." She'd gained a point, and she was now at two, smiling all the while. She'd said what she felt, and of course that had to get someone's heart.

Ocean quickly glanced at the audience, who seemed to love what was occurring. Ocean Jones smiled to them and looked back at the screen. 'What do you like to do in your [unknown word] time?' She'd lost a point, now at 1 point. She thought positive, however, and realized it was one more than 0. What a way to think, Ocean! "Well, Caesar Flickerman, I really like to mess around with the shower buttons and try to make new stuff in my room. Since I can't really talk to no one, I -" She was tingling with a vibrating sensation, and one of the men off to the side flashed the words "Time is up!" on the screen. Ocean blew a few kisses to the audience, and gently, elegantly, smiled and made her way off of the interview stage.

"One point. You could've done better, Ocean."

Other:

I hope that you pick me! Even if the chances are slim to none. Best of luck to everyone else!

edits;;

• 1st edit was to fix wording in RP Sample
• 2nd edit was to add a site whom I was staff on
• 3rd edit was to add the edits and to change the wording in why I should be chosen because it could've been taken the wrong way

[chaseee]

Name: Chase
Age: 14
Preferred Position: No preference
Previous experience: I have been a staff on To Kill a Mockingjay (deceased), and A Game of Thrones RPG (in the making).
Why should we choose you? Well, I've been on the site for a while now, and I think I've finally worked out all the chinks. I've read the rules time and time again, and think I could do fairly well in enforcing them. I am pretty tolerable (or at least I think?) and I am fairly good at tolerating others ^^

Roleplay Sample:

Nov 18, 2010 21:30:48 GMT -5 chaseee said:

Several steps bring the man to the elevator threshold, another and he has stepped inside the glass box. A quick jab of the finger, and wires and mechanics groan against as he is jerked upward, the lobby floor already disappearing farther beneath him. Many hallways are glimpsed in his ascent, along with many people, some grotesque in their fanciful outlined surgeries, some boasting magnificent whiskers and snouts of various animals, some tails swishing along their backsides, ears tucked into hats, vibrantly discoloured hair pulled into exotic hairstyles which, however strategically placed, disgusted him. Everyday it became more and more clear that he was about the only one unable to rid himself of the features he was born with.

The solitude of the elevator gives Chance some time to think, and he takes these moments whenever they showed themselves, for in a place as busy as the Capitol, one was never alone for long. Drab things circled among his other thoughts. Mostly business, how he would get that stock report in by Friday, when he had only just begun his work on it. How his annual pay had been degraded by ten dollars, and it was taking its toll on his wardrobe. But, also the state of his mind. How the cells that he had once believed to be so in order, to be so well kept, seemed to be powering down, making his life harder, when it was already hard enough. He assumed he wasn't truly mad, for he had heard somewhere if you were, you couldn't wonder if it was true. If he was, wouldn't he be off trying to convince others he was sane?

Parting the troublesome thoughts, he stepped into the hallway, as the doors slid open. The luxuriously padded carpet set his aching feet at ease, making his long walk down the hall that much easier. He played with the thought of traveling back down to the ground floor, so as to soak in the tub of warmth (or a hot tub, as some have said), and to re-apply his hair dyes, maybe this time siding with a more vibrant color, like red or purple, replacing the muddy brown he had been foolish enough to submit to under the watchful eye of his appointed hairstylist. Glancing down at his nails, a manicure wouldn't do too much harm either, for he wanted to look good at the next business meeting, after all. Though, upon stepping into his room, he found he was far too exhausted to make way back down.

Throwing his briefcase aside, he all but threw himself onto the feather-stuffed mattress, pulling the loose comforter around him as he settled in, still wearing his afternoon suit and shoes. Lightly tapping on the button mounted onto the bed's headboard, he ordered a large dish of turkey, a side of mashed potatoes with brown gravy, and a small bowl of grapes, along with a chilled bottle of wine. Upon placing the order, he settled back down, closing his eyes, his mouth going slack as he began to doze...

"Sir!"

"What?!" Glancing around the room, he found there was no one in the room, the voice having come from the speaker. "I mean, why do you wake me. I am tired, and would wish to nap before taking my supper, if you do not mind." He must always keep his pardons here, under fear of eviction, the manager untrustworthy, and very short tempered.

"We have a visitor for you. An Avox by the looks of it, and his attendant would like to send him up to you.

Huffing, he pushed himself to a sitting position and grumbled. He had ordered the damned traitor over a month ago. They had been clean out, the man had said. Clean out his ass. They just not got the decency to send one to him? "Fine, send it up and we'll have a little look." Pushing himself from the bed, he needed no further confirmation from the speaker. Smoothing his suit, he tussled his hair, so as to regain the professional air. No good, for your slave to think of you as a pushover. With that done, all that was left to do was stand and wait.


ooc-remember to keep your posts at least three paragraphs long, so as to keep the wordcount!^^

Other: Thanks for reading!

[Stare]

Name: 10stare

Preferred: Stare

Age: A little over 15

Preferred Position: Moderator

Previous experience: *cringe* None. But you have to start somewhere, right?

Why should we choose you? Well, I'm not on this site 24/7, but I am on here a lot. I'm an older member, who knows this site well, and I've helped a lot of the current staff members get into the flow of things when they were brand new to this site. *sniffle* Anyways, I love this site, and it's the only one I'm a member of, so my time won't be divided between one or more websites. I also am one of those people who won't take a side in an argument. I like to stay neutral, and help solve the problem. I think that's one of my biggest advantages. I'm a problem-solver.

Roleplay Sample:

Destiny Lenstil

My hands feel along the trunk of the tree, fingers digging into the little etches in the rough bark. My fingernails come back with dirt underneath, darkening what should be white.

I line my fingertips up on the top of my palm, glaring at the raw, bright pink skin caused by hangnails that surrounds the worn nails that have grown slightly too far, with jagged tops to announce my failure at trying to bite them down. But biting my nails has never been a habit, so they're too strong for me to start now.

After trying to clean them up a bit, I peek around the edge of the tree again.

People on the streets walk briskly from building to building, and their steps fill the air with a hundred different tap, tap, taps. Their hair is rather fancy compared to some of the other districts I've visited in the past few weeks, but it's neat. Even those few who wear it down somehow keep it looking untangled. The clothes are perfectly clean, too, and brightly colored. Make up creates masks on many of the girls my age, and of course, nail polish is worn proudly.

I bring my had back around, sliding down the tree and staring at myself in the cracked, dusty mirror. Through the thin layer of dirt, I look a mess. My hair is tangled and frizzy, with a thin layer of dry earth coating some strands and clumping them together. My face is dirty scratched, my bright blue eyes the only thing able to penetrate through the thin layer of grime.

The rest of me matches my face. My clothes are in a terrible state, worn with my jeans starting to unravel near the bottom.
I am cut and bruised, filthy, and over all, disgusting to the people of this uniform, sanitized district. My clothes are in a terrible state, worn with my jeans starting to unravel near the bottom.

I yank my hair back into a pony tail, and do my best with my face and clothes. I'll still stick out, but it won't be too bad.

My first priority is to buy some new clothes. These ones have served their purpose while I went out for my usual three week vacation away from the districts and the Capitol, free to roam the woods as I pleased.

Second, I definitely need to get to one of those really fancy salons. I've got enough money for new clothes, as long as I don't go too fancy, and the salon. I've made enough money selling my game in District Nine to last me at least a few months. I think I can afford a little luxury, if it will help me blend in some more.

District Two. Clean, luxurious, organized, and one of my least favorite places in all of Panem. But it is my home.

And with that thought, I step out from behind my hiding spot and towards the nearest clothing store.

Other:Under much more thought, I realized that if you guys need help, I should offer it. You've done a ton to make us enjoy this site, and it's time to offer something in return. And yes, I realize that sounds very mushy gushy, but it's true!

Also, I was forced to it was suggested that I apply for this, so I honestly don't mind if I'm not chosen. No hurt feelings.

[Quint]

Name: Quint
Age: 14
Preferred Position: Moderator
Previous experience: I've been one of this site's moderators before and I've done various jobs on others.
Why should we choose you? First of all, I want to admit that my activity has been pretty slow as of late, but time has finally opened up and I'm now able to stick around. And now: I'd like to have another chance at this. I know that I pretty much messed up last time and I feel by doing so, I feel like I've learned what it really takes to be a staff member. I'm not sure whether you might say it's unfair since I've already had a shot at staff member or whether I'm even considered, but I believe this to be an opportunity to compensate for my past defects as a staff member. I regret my resignation and I'm sorry for not playing the bigger person as I should've. I'd like to end with a reasonable, completely do-able promise that if I return as a mod, I'm not going to provide the same-old things I used to. I'll bring more to the table this time. I'm not just going to just try; I'm going to be effective. So to conclude this big soppy plea/explanation, leaving this job has shown me how much working with you guys means to me and how much I love this site. Which why you should choose me. ;x

Roleplay Sample:

Despite his consciousness, the images were flurry, moving side to side; very very trippy. Arcadia’s shifted in and out of focus, initiating a theory that she could be a hallucination after all. Thoughts and questions clashed in his head, battling each other over what made sense and what was just another fraudulent mock-vision due to the blood poisoning. Not that it mattered at this point. He was as good as dead; no harm in just playing along anyways. His arm reached out of the box, stroking a hair away from her face. ”Ar-cadia...” It was a slurred mumble, barely interpretable.

He followed her line of sight, tracing down to the egregious mess that was once his stomach. His eye flitted away from the gory shambles, not wanting to see anymore. For once in his life, he was scared. It was a new feeling. But lately, he’s had tons of new feelings. Fear. Confusion. Love... Yes, finally, he was now willing to publicly say that he was in love with Arcadia London. Before all of this occurred, he had a sole reason to live. Everyday he would go to the gym, training as hard as he could. But everyday, it seemed people tried to push up the ladder when he wasn’t even ready to climb in the first place. Now, it kind of gave the impression that everyone somehow forgot he was a human and had feelings. Though, he couldn’t blame them, because along the way, he forgot too.

His gashed finger tips danced across his own lips, the calluses meeting the rough, cracked skin on his mouth. The very same fingers that had clutched Ms. London and the almost indifferent lips that had met hers that night not so long ago. Like his fingers and lips, he had changed from the once emotionless automaton to someone who could feel. And bleed. A lot. Just like a human should. Losing everything at this point would deem his efforts towards everything he ever worked for completely useless. Though, hadn’t he thrown that away already? To them, he threw it away the moment he sided with Arcadia London and spared her life, allowing his personal feelings to get in the way of the job. Nero was given an opportunity. Now that he had wasted it, so to speak, he was now regarded as an expendable operative. He went rogue.

The people would come after him. Terminate him before he leaked out any information to the Capitol or Panem. Or if he was valuable enough, and actually managed to live through the present state he was in, they’d find him again; track him down and capture. From there, they’d re-educate him. And re-education, sad to say, was inarguably worse than death itself. The large aggregate of pain built up by the several methods of torture wouldn’t even compare to something as quick as death. The people forgive. But they never ever forget... In all certainty, he was completely sure Arcadia’s presence only endangered them both. Though obviously, her arrival was set up. In fact, they were probably being watched at this very moment. He didn’t waste energy in warning her. They wouldn’t attack; they’d only watch, watching a target that could potentially be of some use. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill and whose emotions were all but influential.

He was lost in thought when she kissed him. First of all, it was unexpected. He didn’t see what was so appealing or even remotely inviting of the blood incrusted body of his. Then she hadn’t killed him yet. That was a mystery in itself. She had left him back in District 2, without much warning. She might as well have smashed a giant ‘take a hint’ sign right into his precious little face. He wasn’t sure what she had really intended when she left, but he interpreted the situation in a way not many would call optimistic. After a while, kissing her began to hurt. Not only was she kind of propped over him, but he had to arch his back a bit just to reach her, which didn’t do much good for his unobstructed stomach.

She broke away, and he lightly threw himself back onto the box’s wall, inhaling as much air as possible. Making out with a Career wasn’t easy. It was actually a relatively challenging feat. Back in Two, his trainer would dunk him in a slough-like bucket of ice cold water, drowning him. He did this to Nero for 3 reasons. One, it would wake him up, considering they were training at 3:00 in the morning. Two, it would show him not to fail. And at last three, because doing so would prepare him for any water-based arena the Gamemakers might’ve prepared. Go on, drown him. This boy here can hold his breath for 8 minutes! It wouldn’t be surprising if Arcadia had once did the same. A lot of the trainers followed after his own, trying to raise their trainees beyond even his par. All in all, the point being: Arcadia can hold her breath for a loooong time! It wouldn’t be much of a shock to find himself slipping out of consciousness while kissing her. Though he was inert enough as it is, so he was prepared for any spontaneous slumber that might come in out of nowhere.

He hardly had any energy at all. Barely enough to watch Arcadia run over to the door and give it a tug. Locked, of course. He wasn’t lying to anyone when he told himself they were watching. The people were here, realizing they hadn’t discharged their commission. Who knew how many of them were stealthily preparing their weapons, slipping between wooden packages, epinephrine high-tailing through their veins? He shifted in his little box bed, feeling around for any kind of weapon. He couldn’t even remember. Turns out not only his vision was turning faulty, but his memory as well. His fighting instinct urged and pushed to unleash itself, but only subsided after a while. Nero grimaced, as always. His fighting compulsion had been the one thing that had always stuck by his side until the very end. And how it had just died. He took another deep breath and waited, knowing it wouldn’t be too long before he did too.

[/color][/size]

Other: Yes, the prime of this application was kiss ass-ish, but it's true and I mean it.

[Tea]

Name: Tea

Age: Sixteen

Preferred Position: No Preference. Either would be rather fab.

Previous experience: Yes, I am an admin at We Were Champions, a Journalist (Which grants me moderator powers) at Magix Club, which isn't a role-play site and is more of a fan-site, but I figured it counts as staff experience, and finally, I was a moderator at this one High School type RP that unfortunately has since closed. Oh, and I totally forgot about this one other dead site that I was an admin on. Just found it whilst cleaning up my bookmarks. Magicial Winx

Why should we choose you? When I joined this site back in May, I quickly found that it was, without a doubt, one of the friendliest, most accepting roleplaying communities I had ever been apart of. When Alba (may she rest in peace) was reaped for the 55th Games, and I was fortunate enough to be apart of the most exciting site-wide plot I've yet to come across, it became ever more obvious how absolutely brilliant and organized this site actually is.

I love to help out with things, and if chosen for either of the positions, I would most certainly try to help to the best of my ability. For the most part, I'm very easy going and get along with most people. If there's a serious problem, I try and fix it to the best of my ability. Because I do have a fair bit of staff experience, I believe that I understand where my tasks lie, and would be vary capable in completing them. I am also generally fairly active around the site, school attempting to get in the way, as of late, but that short period of slow replies is coming to a close now, and I fully intend to be as active as I used to be, so that I feel, is an important quality as a staff member on a site. Not abandoning it and being loyal.

Anyways, I also wanted to thank you for the opportunity to apply as a staff member. This site is fantastic, and I've absolutely adored my time here so far, staff member or not, I'm sure you'll continue to do a fabulous job with it. =)

Roleplay Sample:

Aug 31, 2010 0:17:07 GMT -5 Tea said:

Duke

As soon as he'd decided to fight- really fight- Amira, time itself seemed to slow down completely. His entire body was numb as he swung his sword. It connected solidly with something. It wasn't until Duke heard the sickening thud of a body hitting the ground did he know what it was. She didn't cry out. Didn't make a sound. In fact, Duke thought she was dead. He just stood there for a minute, sword still in hand, breathing heavily. His entire body was shaking, and he felt dizzy. What the hell just happened? Was Amira...dead? Duke forced himself to look down at her body. Ghostly pale and blood soaked, Amira lay there, her stomach torn open. It wasn't hard for Duke to guess what he'd hit. Was she dead though? It was unlikely a wound like that would result in an instant kill. Unless he'd hit some vital organ, which was highly improbably, she would probably bleed out in a few minutes and that would be that. But that meant she was probably still alive. Damn.

Hesitantly, Duke lightly kicked Amira's arm with his foot. 'I'll see you in hell...' Oh yeah. She was still here. Duke squat down beside her, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword. "You put up one hell of a fight, I'll give you that." Duke replied. He was surprise that he was so void of emotion. Was this what it was like to be a career? Amira was someone who he'd cared so deeply about, had loved a mere month ago, and here she was, so close to death, and Duke was indifferent. He watched as she dropped the knife she'd be holding. Her last knife. The one that had been destined to take his life. Duke picked it up, and wiped the blade on his shirt, cleaning it of blood. The handle was engraved with Amira's initials. The corner of Duke's mouth quirked up into a smile. "Did your father give you this?" Though he knew she wouldn't answer, somehow it just seemed right to make small talk with Amira as she lay dying. Weird? Hell yes. Was it the right thing though? Duke wasn't sure what the right thing was anymore. In another time, the right thing to do would have been to get Amira help as soon as possible, or at the very least, tried to stop her bleeding somehow. But this was now. Amira was dying, and there was nothing Duke planned to do about it, expect stand by and watch, waiting for the satisfaction her death would give him.

Duke sat there beside her for several minutes of strained silence, occupied only by Amira's slowing, haggard breathing, just watching her. She was suffering, there was no doubt about that. Without even thinking about what he was doing, Duke found himself reaching out to stroke Amira's bloody, mattered hair. For a second at least, everything felt normal. Well, as normal as it had been before they'd gone their separate ways. This scene was far too familiar; one they'd visited before. At the time, Duke had wished for nothing other than for Amira to make it out of the ordeal alive. Now well...now he didn't know what to think. As brushed her hair from her eyes, Duke felt emotions starting to surface that he'd thought he had long since banished. No, he couldn't feel love. That was something Duke Quaidar III was incapable of. Duke Quaidar III was a murderer; a career. Careers couldn't love! He'd said so himself, only a month ago. But if careers can't love, then what was this?'

Before he could rethink his intent, Duke leaned over Amira's body, and pressed his lips firmly to hers. She tasted like blood, a painful reminder that death couldn't be far behind now. All because of him. But that didn't matter right now. Right now his world consisted only of Amira, and Duke just wanted to be with her, kiss her one last time, before she was gone forever. After what seemed like an eternity, Duke pulled back, breaking heavily. They must have been quite a sight the two of them, covered in blood, Amira's so close to death. Death. For the first time since she'd been cut down, Duke felt a sense of regret. He watched as Amira drew a heart in her own blood. Somehow, that action alone confirmed any doubts he had in his feelings for her, and Duke kissed her again, deeper this time. Although it may be too late now, there was no way he was just going to stand by and watch her die now.

'I'm glad of the time we had together...' No. No she couldn't die now. That sounded too much like a goodbye. When she laughed though, almost in a way of mocking herself, as though she'd been so stupid as to trust him. A murderer. No amount of apologizing would ever change that title, nor would it make her forgive him, but Duke was sure going to try and make things right again. As gently as he could, trying to disturb her wounds as little as possible, Duke drew her closer to him. "Listen to me, Amira," Duke said, stroking her hair. "You don't ever have to forgive me for what I did to you. You don't ever have to speak to me again, and I'm not expecting us to ever be the same we were. But I need you to know. I'm not going to let you die here. Maybe once, but not now. Okay? I'm going to go for help. Just...just hang in there. Please. I'm going to help you." As Duke stood, he knew that was one promise he would keep, no matter the consequence. Whether the peacemakers lock him up forever, avox him or even kill him, Duke was going to get Amira help. She was going to live. Duke would make sure of it.

Other: Everyone applying sounds so qualified! Gah! That's fantastic! Your job is going to be hard. Good luck everyone!

[/size]

[Spesh]

Name:
SpecialK
Age:
14
Preferred Position:
Either one would be great (No Preference)
Previous experience:
I have been staff on many sites before. I have been the admin of an e-federation twice. Also, I have been a global moderator on three previous forums before that closed down after I left, though that really had nothing to do with me leaving. On the site: The Wrestling Game (which has around 5k active rpers), I was a helper, which is a staff member that helps people with game issues and other things like their characters and such. Besides that there is nothing.
Why should we choose you?
I believe that I should be chosen because I am a hard worker. I do know when to stop kidding around and actually act serious. When I am staff on a site I always spend more time on the site then I would if I was not staff. I always am more active looking into the chat or whatever else needs looking into, and I genuinely try to do what is asked of me. Also, if you want to get technical I do know how to handle a computer coding wise. No, I'm not as good as Aya, but I know a pretty good amount about graphics and am pretty good with html codes if you tell me what you want put in.
I know I tend to be annoying sometimes, but that is because I do not represent anything, when I do have to represent a game/community I always think more then twice before I speak/type/act and I try to put the best image out. I am fairly creative individual who is also very hard working. When I have responsibilities my personality changes largely, and I hope that everyone on this game gets a chance to see that.
Roleplay Sample:
Sparkle Jones

What a great day it is today. Just getting up and it is sometime around two PM. I could not have started my day better, especially because it's a Sunday. I can't think of anything that I would have to do today, but I check my phone anyways just to be sure. Just as I predicted, nothing. This is great, really just great, I can go shopping. I can spend as much as I want... and I can spend it all on myself. What more could a teenage girl ask for? Spending their parents money on clothes? That has to be one of the greatest things of my life. Of course there is no way my parents will question me about it, because I am what comes first in their lives, I am their everything. Or at least that is what they say.

Rolling out of my bed I look at the mirror that takes up my whole wall... I can't help to think that I look like total crap. I know that I have to shower if I even want to contemplate leaving my house. I strip down and walk into my bathroom and press a few buttons, all I know is a few of them are the shampoo, conditioner, and full body wash buttons. I don't really want to go into the details of my shower... Getting out of the shower I feel like a new, clean me. I even might be presentable with a little bit of make up and jewelry. My whole body is dried by the automatic driers within my bathroom, and I see my face. the only thought that comes to my mind is bland, boring. I need something to spice it up, something to make me look special. The only good thing about me right now is my hair, my perfect, wavy hair, that flows down to my back in an exquisite manner. I know I have a lot of work to do right now though.

Going into my vast walk in closet I have an array of different clothes to chose from. I could pick from a dress to a tank top, or from jeans, to a mini skirt. Today, I feel like dressing sexy, so I take out a v-neck collared shirt, that only has sleeves down to right below my elbows and stops at my belly length wise. I also take out jean shorts, I guess it is a little bit too cold for a mini skirt. Laying these two objects on my bed, I study them to their littlest detail, finally I come to the conclusion that they will be fine. Now that I finally picked out my clothes, which is a very hard process, I turn around and look into my mirror. Standing naked, all my flaws shown to me, I can't help but to be impressed, I am really hot. But I already knew that, but I still take my time putting on my bra and panties, partially because I am tired, and partially because I love to look at myself in the mirror. Putting on my jean shorts is a task, they are ridiculously small on me, but that is the way I like it. Finally, after the fight of getting them up I turn towards my shirt. Putting my arms in first I start to button it up, but decide to stop at the point where the top of my bra is still easily visible. Though this makes me look like a whore, I could not say I would look better any other way. I go to put on make up, turning my brain off because this really requires no thought. And just minutes latter, I am ready to leave.

Walking downstairs I call out to who ever is home, "I'm going shopping, I'll be back later!" I don't care whether they don't want me to go or not. It does not matter to me. I do what I want when I want to do it. Nobody stops me. I run my own life even if it means defying my parents, because no matter what, they give into me, because I am the whole reason they live. I am their everything.

Just leaving my house, it is a cool day in district one. The sun is bright in the sky, though somewhat covered in clouds. The Rocky Mountain breeze of that comes with fall is somewhat relaxing compared to the summer heat. Autumn, my favorite season, the mix between hot and cold is just so interesting. You never know what to expect. I find that the randomness just adds to the fun. Never knowing makes you have to improvise more, and coming up with things on the spot always is enjoyable for me. The leaves falling also adds to the greatness of the season. Their beauty is unmatched, except perhaps by me. The color of red, orange and yellow brighten up the day. They make the walk from my house to the town square one of beauty and artwork. I can't help to think of how much money I would make if I could paint this. It is almost enticing, that is how rich I could get off of something as simple as this. I guess that maybe the simplest things can be complex in life. Something as simple as weather adds to my complex love of Autumn. When it comes to nature, the little things really do make a huge difference.

Walking down the road, I pass the victors village, and I stop, in hope more then anything. I have one more chance, one more chance to not only be rich, but also to be famous, one last chance to get lucky or to volunteer. I need to step up my game, I want this more then anything. Well maybe not more then anything, but winning the games is the goal of all district one children since the day they are born. And for me to achieve that goal would just be incredible. I start to walk again, my stop was getting a little bit too long. Walking into town I cant help but marvel at the amount of stores. Every time I walk down here I feel amazed. Amazed at how it is almost tailored to my needs, it is lovely.

What an interesting way to walk into a store. Normally I don't get greeted by a guy saying 'Hey Sexy'. Though I do like the compliment and all, it seems pretty creepy that a guy would just walk into me and then say that. That takes guts, I can really respect that though he is still an asshole for walking into me, "What the hell! Can you watch where your going! Are you stupid? But if you wanted to touch me... all you had to do is ask..." I try to say that last part in the sexiest voice I can. This guy isn't half bad looking to be honest. And I could use a little romance in my life. Hopefully he isn't just being a tool and he actually might want somethingfrom me. again, all of this is speculation.

Other:
Uhh... Good luck to everyone. And wow a lot of people want to be staff...

[Meeka]

Name: Meeka, or Stella. I don't really mind that much.
Age: I'm 17 and unfortunately turning 18 on Christmas.
Preferred Position: No Preference
Previous experience: Actually, I have. My first ever staff position was on this site: link on which I have been global moderator and am now admin.
Somehow I've ended up being forced to be an admin on this site (after the founder quit): link.
I've been admin on a couple of sites that died after a short while because there weren't enough members: link, link
and finally, I once made my own forum to practice coding: link
Why should we choose you?
I joined this site in August, thinking it was going to be a short-term thing and that I would not enjoy roleplaying here much. I was very intimidated by the sheer numbers of people but my lurking and hanging out in the cbox has paid off... I think... because I know quite a lot of the more active, cbox-bound people well.

I really love this site, much more than I originally thought that I would and I think that I do adhere to the rules quite well. Apart from that, I guess I have had some experience with being an admin and moderator before. I know how to keep the peace and I am generally friendly at all times. I practically live for roleplaying and I think that this site has helped me improve my first person skills considerably, for which I am thankful.

I guess that people like me, or at least, no one has been openly hating me as of yet. I can bring some culture to the staff, being European and all strange and stuff. I've got a funny accent and I love alpacas (Cameron would know). I'm running out of reasons over here... I think that's about it.

Roleplay Sample:

♣ Ariana Lyra Alassë ♣

[/color]

Suddenly my eyes are open,
Everything comes into focus, oh,
We are all illuminated,
Lights are shining on our faces, blinding

Having joined the Uprising not too long ago, Ariana was beginning to feel a little more comfortable with the people. It wasn't that she was shy - far from it - it was just that she wasn't exactly really good at making friends. So when Griffin announced that their meeting was less of a meeting than a party, she withheld a frustrated sigh. She was punctual, arriving early to the meeting that really was a party and staying in the background, silently observing the people arriving. Being the counselor, she knew some faces, but merely from seeing. She felt a little out of place, her hair tied up into a loose bun, several brown strands now falling from it and into her face, her slim body well hidden beneath her impeccible white lab coat.

Her hazel eyes scanned the growing crowd until she spotted a familiar face who, not unlike herself, was blending into his surroudings. She smiled, glad to have found someone she would not have to hold a painstaking, lengthy conversation with and sauntered over to where Devroux was standing. She did not feel that she had to communicate with him through words, always finding it slightly unfair to speak to him, knowing that he could not reply the way he wanted to. The thing about writing down words is that some things were left out that could not be put into words and before he could just speak his mind as he used to, he had to pull out a paper, write down what he thought and the overall effect was wasted.

She sidled up next to him, leaning against the brick wall and letting her eyes sweep across the place up to where Griffin was still standing. Then she looked over at Devroux. His eyes spoke a lot more about his character than she was sure he cared to admit. Right now she could sense a definite frustration, probably from not being able to converse with the people surrounding him. Personally, she liked being silent. One of the main reasons that she chose to befriend him and not somebody else. It was so much easier to be herself around someone who would not critisize her harshly.

She was briefly drawn away by an unsettling commotion coming from somewhere down to the left. She narrowed her eyes when she spotted the throng surrounding a little girl who could not be a day older than twelve. An older, dark haired girl had a knife brandished, holding it threateningly before the young girls throat. Another girl who also looked rather young was standing close by and yet another girl, an older one as well just entered the groups' midst and also pulled out a blade. Finally she turned towards Devroux, looking just as shocked as she felt. "Do you see that?" She could not in her right mind understand why people would act this way in a social gathering. This was supposed to be a meeting of some kind, they were a group, joined together by the same cause. It angered her, though not enough to trigger her fury, but enough to make her forget that she was supposed to stay silent and watchful.

She shook her head in mute disgust and threw Devroux another aghast look before striding off and towards the group. "What do you think you are doing?" she demanded, glaring at the oldest girls in the gathering. In her mind the dark haired girl and the brown haired, petite girl looked to be old enough to know better. Plus, they were the two with drawn blades. She was seething but still in perfect control of her emotions. "This is a group, we work together, not against one another," she said slowly, keeping her own anger below the surface.

"This is the kind of behaviour that destroyed groups in the past. Do you really want this to be a lost cause? Well, then you guys clearly aren't here for the right reasons." With that, she turned back around and stalked over to Devroux, inwardly still cooking with anger at the immature, irrational behaviour some members were displaying. They would be getting nowhere if people acted like that towards each other.

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Other: The sheer amount of amazing people applying for staff are intimidating me. Personally, I really would not mind seeing any of these as staff, they're all competent and wonderful.[/blockquote][/size]

[NoireRose]

I'm not going to apply but I thought I'd just wish everybody who does good luck