Cyrille Johnstone (apologies for the length)

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Topic/Postby Cyrille » 09 Mar 2011, 19:51

Cyrille Johnstone (apologies for the length)

::: Main Details :::


Character Name: Cyrille Johnstone
Character Gender: Male
Character Race: Human
Character Class: Rogue
Character Level: One, unfortunately

Current Main & Secondary Spec: This is the first character on my new account, so I'm afraid this doesn't apply.

Current Primary & Secondary Profession: None

Did you start your character on Moonglade, or transferred? Despite something of a huge hiatus, I'm an original Moonglader.

Current Guild you are part of, and any previous Guilds you have been in:

[INDENT]- The Defias Renegades.

- The Crows.

- The Stormwind Militia.

- And quite a few more.[/INDENT]


Do you know, or have been referred by, any current member of RnP?: I know a few of you, but I doubt I'm remembered all too much - or too fondly for that matter, so I'd not want to put you on the spot. *Grin*

If been in previous Guilds, what background were they? Also, a brief history of your previous guild membership experience if possible.:

I've been in a string of roleplaying guilds over the years (exclusively roleplaying guilds, in fact) - many of which I didn't stay in for too long in the beginning (~6 years ago).

Nevertheless, in recent years I've taken a more considered and mature approach to guild membership. I've acted as a guild leader; officer and below - although I'd happily confess that I'm not much of a 'commanding' figure and I very much doubt any roles of responsibility should be directed to myself without at least the slightest expectation of mayhem.

Is this your main or alt?: Main (my sole character, for that matter).

Time been on Moonglade: ~5 years of actively roleplaying followed by a ~2 year hiatus and ventures into other games.

Time been playing WoW: Since vanilla


::: Player OOC Details :::


Real Age Bracket: (16-20)

Country where you live: UK

Your level of English: Arguably good.

What kind of player are you in terms of time spent online?: Regular, or at least I'll attempt to be regular.


::: RP Details :::


Character Full Name & Surname: Cyrille William Johnstone

Character Age: Twenty seven

Any special character traits: Not particularly, no.

Any races / classes / factions your character hates or is “at war” with? (eg. Warlocks): Not to the degree of 'at war', no.

Brief Character History: (Sincerest apologies for the length, incoherency and generally babbling nature of this biography - do excuse me. I'd shorten it down but I'm not sure which parts are appropriate to cut out without rendering the rest entirely baffling to any prospective reader).

Edit Oh, well, I managed to cut out a sizeable chunk from the Kalimdor era, so it ought to be a little more read-able now.



"Life doesn't always pan out as you'd like it to." Lorraine Johnstone, Ma


"The world is a curious place. One might live until they're seventy years passed thirty and still not begin to comprehend the proper workings of the universe. Indeed, the only thing a man can be certain of in life is that the events that occur within it - the mishaps; the fortune; the miracles - aren't guided by some higher power. No divine authority sits and calculates right from wrong; good from bad; sinner from do-gooder. Chance - as any celebrated gambler might tell you - is life's only regulating factor.

It's probably apt then, that a good man might pass through this life faster than a gun shot yet a bad cling to the last vestiges of his vitality until an ambigouous squint into the future becomes little more than a short peek back into the past.

This was not to be an irony lost on Cyrille's biological father, the kind-hearted carpenter whom lay as little more than a distorted photograph at the back of Cyrille's mind, a loss he was too young to experience first-hand and yet an absence he could not of experienced any more strikingly than he had in the many years that preceded.




The Johnstones were a simple family. A fine ranch, perhaps, some hard-working mules and a fair-sounding name, but a family with nothing but wives, sisters and babies could not be more ill-prepared for the loss of a father - the loss of a working man. Communities such as Westfall made sure to be privy to the plight of its own, but in hard times (as recent years had shown themselves to be) charity was misplaced along the long, beaten path of self-preservation. The capital, as unfortunate as country folk were to be found within its walls, was to be their last and only hope.

As it so happened Ma Johnstone had friends in the city - cousins, sisters and fellow ladies of a regional book-reading club - with whom she might plea her case for shelter in this, her hour of need. It was to be something of a surprise then, both list and legs exhausted, that the only glimmer of compassion was to come from one Ms. Jackson - a disreputable local figure who's name was known for her ownership of the Old Town tavern 'The Dog and Duck' and her insistence on smoking just about every given moment of the day.

Rented a room (half-price) above the tavern's premises until the family could find its feet, the Johnstones quickly set about doing just that. Ma Johnstone went about the task of teaching spoilt young aristocrats how to play the piano and - always enthusiastic to do just about anything at this stage - his two sisters dealt with the care and safety of little Cyrille, the youngest of the travelling troupe.




When a boy's raised and cared for off the back of his mother's valiant efforts to teach anything-but-impoverished schoolchildren to play the piano, growing up slowly is a luxury neither affordable nor desirable.

At the age of eight Cyrille took on his first job as a waiter at the Dog and Duck, a sister since having abandoned the cause and another having fallen into the work of a less than respectable vocation. Hours late and work hard (or, at least, for arms that could barely lift a tankard let alone two), the boy came to learn not only the value of money, but the value of hard work and responsibility, principles that all but became set in the make-up of the man he was to become.

Nevertheless, the combined incomes of the family was still little more than a pittance. The unsubstantial wages of his mother and the misappropriation of his sister's lending to a reliance on the continued generosity of the enterprising Ms. Jackson, Cyrille's employer and - in the absence of any other - mentor.




It wasn't too surprising to Cyrille that his mother was to seek help, and perhaps not beyond the realms of imagination that the eventual assistance she was to find was to come in the form of a foul-mouthed drunkard known by the name of Owen Fritzgerald, a relatively well-off but horrendously repugnant man who's crude advances found themselves accepted by the frightful desperation of his sole surviving parent.

Owen brought money to the family that had been non-existent in the absence of his father, but with money he brought trouble. Owen was a drunk, a violent drunk at that and ruled his household with a boozy reign of terror that Cyrille was more than right to fear.

Unsurprisingly, Cyrille spent the years that followed working tirelessly to build a base of independence that his family so sorely missed, a bartender at Ms. Jackson's tavern; a postman for an in-city express communications company and - what was to be most significantly for him - the employee of a local so-called crime lord for whom he grew more and more important with age.




Best intentions aside, Cyrille knew full well what he had gotten himself into. Fear, money, excitement - the unshakable trinity held him so firmly at the grasp of his new employer that the best advice of the knowledgeable Ms. Jackson could do little to dissuade him from his work.

The jobs, and his part in them, began so small as to be meaningless - for much of his early youth the boy was expected to do little more than carry letters - but it was striking, Cyrille's mercurial rise to prominence in his employer's plans: suspect shipments, firmly-toned "talking to"s and illegitimate practice were all observed with enthusiasm by a young man who could do little but get lost in the surreality of a wrong-doing much larger than him.

It was only to be a matter of time, though, that Cyrille was to find himself brought back down to earth. Accomplice to the anarchy of a break-in and accidental murder, Cyrille fled the south with little more than a pistol in a wrapped-up jumped and a hastily-written note from both mother and Jackson alike. Kalimdor, he found, was to be his next destination.




Settling types were always quick to proclaim the opportunities of the west, even in the first days of Kalimdor's unearthing. To those types the mystery of the continent was rich enough a prospect for them to be hunting and, as much as young Cyrille might have preferred otherwise, it was those most unrealistic and uncompromising of sorts that was to be his only company in those years away from familiarity.

Fate would have it that Cyrille was to find board on a passenger ship headed to the wooded extremities of that most dangerous of continents, amidst the swampy murk of what he was to find to be called "Dustwallow Marsh - or simply 'The Swamp' as it was known in those earliest of days.

Following closely in the footsteps of roving expeditions; Alliance advances and keen but ultimately doomed settlers, Cyrille found himself thrust from the rugged colonial serenity of the swamp's burgeoning port town and into a world so different as to be alien to anything he'd ever known.

But the path toward bringing civilization to this most enigmatic of new worlds was to be beset on all sides by danger and, to him and any other rational mind that were amongst their number, it hardly came as a surprise that the headcount had fallen from some eighty-odd adventurous fellows to a rag-tag gathering of hopeless souls who stood closer to thirty than fourty, he was sure. Illness, heat, exhaustion, raids - at every turn this new land presented them with new dangers to which yet more of the frail few survivors fell prey.




Cyrille became something of a keen trapper during those times, educated, accompanied and often protected by the guiding hand of one Mr. Curtis Brown. Brown had been a cavalry scout in the initial wave of the Alliance expedition, and - while mind willing - his body was all but unable to soldier on. No will to leave (and, Cyrille suspected, no where to leave to) Mr. Brown saw to keeping the young man company where the settlers no longer could.

In harsh times all a man might do is make the best of his situation. Cyrille studied extensively; Brown saw to drinking whatever liqueur was in sight and the pair often made it their business as a collective to aid the tenacious attempts of any passing travellers who needed a helping hand through the regions.

Life was to pass like this, admittedly not without many an incident, for longer than the boy cared to remember. Cyrille was to become more of the man that he had seemed to be for quite some time and Brown was to fall victim to that familiar friend, pestilence, which had seen to stalking Cyrille's company for much of his life on the new frontier.




Yet Cyrille wasn't to return. At least, not immediately. As odd as it might sound for a young man in perpetual predicament, his interest in the world had flourished in the self-imposed 'exile' of his final years as a somewhere-in-mid-twenties-year-old and so he spent the remainder of his years on Kalimdor living in what was the relative haven of Theramore, the city which he had first marked with his footsteps as little more than a teenager caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was here that Cyrille completed a series of literary works which - while shunned by the mainstream of the educated few - found some popularity amongst the learned circles of fresh-thinking Stormwind scholars who held an undying curiosity for all things new, all things natural and all things Kalimdor. Entitled "The New Continent: A Study into the Flora of the Swamp"; "The New Continent: A Study into the Fauna of the Swamp" (and, as you can imagine, so on), Cyrille never truly gained the commercial success he might well have hoped for, but found himself with a suitable nest egg with which to invest in the apparatus of his new-found vocation.

Law men, whatever law their was to exercise at the far reaches of civilization, were in those times not only expected to equip themselves but they were also expected to deal almost single-handedly with the troubles of a gathering so scattered and undocumented that any hopes of success were but a slither of light amidst an otherwise blackened canvas of impending failure.




It was in this time that Cyrille began to figure out what he quite wanted to make of his life. Kalimdor, new as it was, had not presented any sort of fresh start - at least, not one so dramatic as to inspire great change - rather it was the thoughts of home that really drove him forward, and while he had had a life on those foreign shores for some time now, he could not help but wonder what might be made of him if he were to return.

Not one to wait and wonder, Cyrille returned, fresh-faced and fresh-minded to a since married and divorced mother; a since-returned and wedded eldest sister and another female sibling who - long since having abandoned the reckless vices of a troubled adolescence - now ran a small livery stable on the outskirts of the city. Ms. Jackson, still brimming with the enthusiasm and enterprise for which he remembered her, both so to it that he was housed, clothed and (as if she had planned out which contacts to make long before his return) employed.

Cyrille now stands, as he has stood for near-enough two years now, on the board of a local justice committee which sees to the protection of Stormwind nationals both in home counties and abroad - albeit, with globalization being something of a distant dream of future economists, more so the former."


How knowledgeable of the Warcraft lore are you?: So-so.

Your favourite WoW area, and why? Hm. Probably the Grizzly Hills. The zone just has that rustic, barren and lifelike feel to it that really appeals to me - not to mention it's an area I've used quite regularly for roleplaying events in the past.

Your fondest RP moment that you remember: My fondest moment in roleplay was perhaps an extensive series of 'mission'-style roleplaying events in Northrend alongside Alzania I held shortly after the Wrath of the Lich King's release. It was the sort of spontaneous, realistic and gritty roleplay which I've always been extremely fond of.

Why did you choose Rhyme & Punishment? I suppose it's not the first time that someone's mentioned that your reputation preceedes you, and this - combined with my past experiences and the laid back and friendly atmosphere of the guild - really drew me to RnP as my first choice for my return to the game and Moonglade.

Why do you think that we should invite you as a Guild Member? Not to blow my own trumpet, but I like to think of myself as something of a motivated roleplayer with a strong desire to produce roleplay for myself and others on a whim rather than following planning (as I've mentioned, organization's not really my strong point).

Other than that, I can't really attest to anything else about myself that isn't best judged by other people. I'd say I'm rather friendly and 'casual', at least.

Will you be willing to attend guild meetings?: Yes.

Will you be willing to attend guild RP events?: Yes.

Any thoughts or questions you want to ask the guild?: Just tell me if you want a shortened synopsis of the biography and I'll get working on it as soon as possible. I didn't want to put forth the bare bones as - being the relatively simple concept he is when you get down to the basics - it'd be relatively boring.
Cyrille
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Topic/Postby Shevron » 09 Mar 2011, 21:04

Cyrille wrote:Do you know, or have been referred by, any current member of RnP?: I know a few of you, but I doubt I'm remembered all too much - or too fondly for that matter, so I'd not want to put you on the spot. *Grin*


I'd prefer if you would tell.

We're being particularly careful lately .. so yes, we want to know.
"Whomsoever takes up this blade shall wield power eternal. Just as the blade rends flesh, so must power scar the spirit."
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Topic/Postby Cyrille » 09 Mar 2011, 22:43

Not quite as suspicious or exciting as you'd like to think - I was firstly Shadowcry, so you'll forgive me for not wanting to name myself (both for the reason that the name was the terrible creation of an eleven year old and the character was perhaps equally terrible).

I was also Loreyna for around a year, and that was the character I applied with a year ago when I was considering coming back after my exams (though the summer drew in and lots of things happened to make me completely forget to the point of not wanting to come back and appear stupid).

I hope that clears things up rather than making my position worse.
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Topic/Postby Erethas » 09 Mar 2011, 23:32

Oh yeah, I remember both names.
You are now breathing manually.
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Topic/Postby Serendipity » 16 Mar 2011, 14:12

Sssoooooo, third application, eh? I remember you disappearing on the first, never following up on the second. However I also remember you being articulate and fitting in well.

Approved, on the provision you don't piss us around.
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Topic/Postby Cyrille » 20 Mar 2011, 22:14

Egh, right. I'll try and contact one of you in-game as soon as possible, I took a bit of a break from the computer/internet entirely so I could get some work done that I'd otherwise never get down to.

It's not my intention to 'piss you around' though I ought to note I really can't be as active as I once was any more - although arguably I didn't quite give a great impression on my earlier attempts to apply, anyway, though that's normally due to terrible timing.

Edit: Give me a day or so, I'm in the process of retrieving my old account (if possible).
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Topic/Postby Cyrille » 25 May 2011, 10:58

I tried to get a hold of someone who didn't seem particularly busy prior to my exams but that didn't really materialize, so I'm afraid this break I've took didn't come at a particularly opportune moment in time. Again, apologies for messing you about but I honestly didn't realise how worried I'd be about doing all this.

Nevertheless I'd love to join when my time frees up indefinitely in two days time, if I'm still wanted at all, or I'd be equally happy to clear off if you don't have the patience for my inopportune choices of times to apply.
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Topic/Postby Serendipity » 25 May 2011, 12:52

I'll be aboot on Sunday, though it's a bank holiday weekend.
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Topic/Postby Cyrille » 29 May 2011, 17:41

Hm, looks like I won't be able to get on until later on today, I've had to go and visit someone in hospital. I'll try and catch you if you're on this evening though.
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Topic/Postby Serendipity » 02 Jun 2011, 23:57

After some good but intense RP.... Application closed due to the character simply not fitting in with the guild.

Feel free to apply in future if you feel like it, it was a fun evening.
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