All users will need to merge their Minecraft Forum account with a new or existing Twitch account starting October 23rd. You can merge your accounts by clicking here. Have questions? Learn more here.
  • 0

    posted a message on Zombie Island Survival
    Sure I'll give it a try.

    IGN - MrDerogative

    I've read the rules.
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ♔♛[1.3].♔♛ LostFate: FallenPvP ♛♔.. Beta Release! Hardcore PvP/Griefing Server.
    IGN - MrDerogative

    Sign me up, please.
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on The Lost Chronicles - Chapter 1: Silence of Serenity
    Hello, friends. I might be coming back Ragnarok if I have the time.

    Actually, would you prefer if I just gave you a new character or will I have to apply for the server again?
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on [1.2.3] From Ashes - Post-Apocalypse - Factions - Roleplay - PvP
    Quote from ktccd

    Most prominantly Navia

    Hey, ktccd, it's been a while. I don't know if you remember me, but it's nice to see a friendly face around here.
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on [1.2.3] From Ashes - Post-Apocalypse - Factions - Roleplay - PvP
    I am definitely going to consider applying for this server. It looks like you could use a couple more members of the community.
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on ☣Last of the Living☣ [Closed]
    This looks like a quality server. I'll be applying soon.
    Posted in: PC Servers
  • 0

    posted a message on PANEM - Cold Wind Blows [Heavy RP] [Hunger Games] [Districts] [Custom Weapons] [Whitelist] [Bukkit/Spoutcraft] [Coming Soon]
    Quote from MrDerogative

    When can we expect to see the server open?

    Sorry, it just seems like this question was overlooked.
    Posted in: Minecraft Survival Servers (archive)
  • 0

    posted a message on Ragnarok: Chapter 4 - Heroes And Thieves
    I think I'll be away from the server for a few days.
    Posted in: Minecraft Survival Servers (archive)
  • 0

    posted a message on Lets see your characters!
    Quote from Leostereo

    I made a skin of Jeb which turned out pretty nice. :smile.gif:


    Please go give it a diamond/favorite if you like it:


    That looks fantastic. I've always loved your stuff, man.
    Posted in: Skins
  • 0

    posted a message on Ragnarok: Chapter 4 - Heroes And Thieves

    Minecraft Account Name: MrDerogative

    New Character Name: Mark Bramley
    New Character Gender: Male
    New Character Race: Human
    New Character Age: 31
    New Alignment: Lawful Neutral/True Neutral

    Character Background:

    "Y'know the old sayin', if you give a man a fish, you'll feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime. I didn't get it the first time I heard it. I always figured you had to fish to get wha' it means. I know wha' it means now 'cos I do it for a livin'."

    Bramley, a strange little man with a strange upbringing, spent his childhood in a metripolitan borough under a working class family. He regularly missed school because his parents took him on caravaning holidays during school terms. He was once given an award for attendance and speculates that this award was merely invented by his teachers to try and persuade him to spend more time at school. He also claims that his teachers never once said "Well done" to him and that, on parents evening, his parents were informed by one of his teachers that he "Will never be a high flyer"

    "But it don't matter what's up with ya, there's always a job for ya."

    Some time in his teenage years, his family moved to an active fishing and smuggling port when the country's wars precipitated the high taxation of many important goods. His father, an angry impatient man who formerly sold furniture, became involved in the covert importation of spirits, tobacco, and other taxed goods. Bramley joined the local fishing guild to try and get over his overwhelmingly depressing circumstances.

    Character Personality: Bramley is a highly introverted individual. Mind you, he's not bright, just mentally reserved. His mind works more like a fly buzzing around in his skull than a properly maintained machine. He seeks to find clarity in everything, and is therefore driven to build knowledge. He often ponders his surroundings and comes up with theories based soley on his warped perception of the world. He is typically so strongly driven to tackle problems with his own understanding and intuition that he lives much of his life within his own head and does not place as much importance or value on the external world. Bramley is seldom interested in whether a fact is true or not -- he tends to believe things if they interest him, if they're a bit weird. As such, he's usually skeptical of any facts heard from a reliable source, but completely credulous when it comes to any ghost stories he may have heard during one of his many holidays. Despite this, Bramley is rather unadventurous and prefers work on routine things. Only Bramley himself can best sum up his worldview: "I don't like fun"

    Character Family: "Me dad's well and alive. Don't know how long that's going to last considerin' how much trouble he's gotten himself into. The village keeps him safe, though. The rest is fine too."
    Character Appearance: Bramley is white, tall, and almost completely bald.
    Character Occupation (what you do for a living and why?): He's a fisherman just because.

    Character Faith/Beliefs: "I like rainy days. That's when fishing's good. I reckon fish get thirsty too, what with them muckin' around in brine all the time. They come up to th' surface when it rains 'cos that's where all the clean water is."

    This is but one of Bramley's many misconceptions of the world. He has, in the past, theorized that because the earth is one big rock and spiders and snakes and the like normally hide under rocks, they're trying to hide under Australia since Australia is at the bottom of the big rock.

    Character Weakness: He has trouble dealing with anything and everything that is unfamiliar to him. His understanding usually falls down for one, or many, of the following reasons: his inability to see the bigger picture, his tendency to look at everything in relation to himself and apply human consciousness to everything, his fear of variety, and his favorite, confirmation bias.

    Character Strength: Though he can be quite thick, Bramley is very curious and mindful of his surroundings. His strength, however, does not lie in his powers of observation, but rather in his perserverance.
    Does you character have any health/physical or mental problems/issues?: Besides having an IQ of 92, he's in a relatively healthy state.
    Does your character have any fears? If so what are they and why?: Bramley is not a fan of holidays, parties, traveling, or anything that has to be planned in advance. Maintaining relationships with family and friends is a tremendous hassle for him. He is also largely indifferent to some of life's great pleasures, like sex and music.
    Describe your character's long term ambitions/goals/objectives? (Describe In detail) "I like fishing. I can't be sure if I'm gonna be doing it for much longer, but I haven't got anythin' else planned."

    What sequence of events lead your character to arrive in Port Neptune: (Describe In detail)
    "I made my way to Port Neptune a couple days ago. Me mum always told me no one ever gets anything done by planning, but I went anyway. Where you are is what you eat, and when I'm home, I'll have beans on toast for lunch. Maybe some shellfish. On holiday -- what? Tapas? Go on then, I'll have a bit. You eat whatever's in that area. That's why I left. It's mental the variety of fish that're knockin' about back home. I tell you, you only need cod, an' I hear there's nothing but cod to catch in Ragnarok. Lot's of it too. A mate of mine from the guild went out there once. Came home three days later, brought back more cod than what the entire village'd seen from one man in a week. Twelve barrels of the stuff. I've never had that kind of luck. Me mate came to me and bought a few tickets for a trip so I could go by myself and have a look."

    A bandit has jumped down from a tree in front of you, he demands you hand over all your belongings or he will kill you and take them anyway. Describe in detail what your character would say and do in this situation:

    "Listen, I don't want any trouble, take what you need and leave me be"

    He'd proceed to empty all of his pockets, run as fast as he possibly can in the opposite direction.

    Your character is in deep emotional or physical pain. Describe in detail what your character would say and do in this situation: If Bramley were ever in any emotional pain, he'd pout and slump over, but he wouldn't cry. If he were in any physical pain, he'd fall and flounder about on the ground, crumple up in a ball, grip his gut, and make an odd sort of "OOOooAOOOOH" noise. On both occassions, he'd count to ten at least five times in his head to make the pain go away.

    If your character was the leader of a faction, what would your faction be about and what would its goals be?
    "What would I need to lead a faction for? What would I get done? I wouldn't bother with all that. There's plenty of people more qualified than I am who can take care of that job for me."

    A Screenshot Of Your New Skin:
    Posted in: Minecraft Survival Servers (archive)
  • 0

    posted a message on Ragnarok: Chapter 4 - Heroes And Thieves
    If you haven't decided to do so already, it might be best to get all the other apps out of the way and do mine last.

    I kind of feel like an ass for making it so tediously long.
    Posted in: Minecraft Survival Servers (archive)
  • 0

    posted a message on Ragnarok: Chapter 4 - Heroes And Thieves
    ****. It's been long enough, the day of judgement has arrived. Here's my application.

    Minecraft Account Name: MrDerogative
    Age?: 15
    Gender?: Male
    Time-Zone/Country of Residence: EST - United States
    On Average what time will you be online and for how long?: I won't be on during the hours of 6 am - 4 pm during the week, I can gaurantee you that. I can find the time to play for at least an hour or two.
    Have you Roleplayed before? If so what in?: The Lands of Navia server (which is now closed) and a few other obscure RP servers. I've also participated in a few RP forums. And, If it means anything, I'm also involved in my highschool's theater group.
    Have you read the rules, And do you agree with them?: Sure.
    A screenshot of your skin: (The skins face must be visible and fit the server)
    Do you have the texture pack installed? if not then why?: Installed.
    Why do you want to join this server? (explain in detail): I think my reasons are somewhat self evident. I've been looking for a good RP server ever since Navia closed. I wanted to go back to my experiences with that community. This is a high quality server and, by the looks of some of its members, one with a mature and experienced playerbase, so naturally I've invested a lot of effort into my application. It has, after all, taken me three tries over the course of months.
    How good would you say your roleplaying skills are?: I will admit that it's been a while since I've done any actual role playing, but still, I don't suppose I'm incompetent. I am at least capable of role playing logically and with a fair amount of sensible intuition.

    Character Name: Jules Gibson
    Character Gender: Male
    Character Race: Human
    Character Age: 25
    Character Background:

    "I remember walking back one day, through the place that had once been a village, my home, and was now patched and tinkered by the jerry builders into the ugly likeness of a town. Every way the roads ran out at last into the desecrated fields and ended in rubble heaps and rank wet weeds. I remember myself as a gaunt black figure, going along the slippery, shiny pavement, and the strange sense of detachment I felt from the squalid respectability, the sordid commercialism of the place"

    Jules Gibson's beginnings are not unlike any common man's beginnings. He was born to a functional and moderately wealthy family in a heavily industrialized human society. Gibson was a quiet, polite, and obedient boy, then. He lived a rich and healthy lifestyle, pardon the fact that he was without a single friend.

    "My father, the chief executive of a local publishing house, had laid for me the foundations for a successful future, which I appreciate -- but he spoiled me. I can't remember a single day I spent without being satiated in hunger. And I never quite liked him. He was a shabby, unassuming coward who rarely ever took responsibility for his actions. Money was the answer to everything. Raising me, I should think, was more like a chore for him than anything else. My mother left my father, of course, and by that time I became old enough to leave the house and enroll in a provincial college. I can only assume she had married him for his wealth, which, as shallow as that may be, I cannot blame her for. But my sympathy can extend so far; she was a rash, seedy woman.

    "You know, I'd rather not dwell on my childhood for too long.

    "As I said, I enrolled in a university during my twenties. I dropped literature and took up natural sciences. The thought of sharing a field of work even remotely similar to my father's was rather upsetting to me. I was never well adjusted towards the practice of alchemy or witchcraft either; most people I knew were unfamiliar with it, and the few people who were appeared to be, at least to me, occultists. As I remember it, most people I knew weren't anything but human, so I wasn't entirely sure what to expect when I had set off for Port Neptune. But I digress. I began my studies again, and during that time, I learned general principles in physiology, genetics, biochemistry and such.

    "Deeply fascinated, I sought to explore the plasticity of life and the untouched field of appearance manipulation. The whole subject is a network of riddles, I tell you. And being but two and twenty and full of naive enthusiasm, I said, `I will devote my life to this. This is worth while.'

    "You know what fools we are at two and twenty? As if such a thing could bring a man any satisfaction. I was ignoring the lack of luxury in my life during those days because of it. And being a college student, I was absolutely restless. Where do you think I got the money to support myself? Certainly not from my father, he wouldn't share his wealth with me and I wouldn't accept it. I started tutor sessions, of all things . . . I wasn't trained for anything else.

    "But I was drawn by my inquiries and I went to work, like a slave. Saving the details, I discovered, not by design but by accident, a sort of formula that, when applied to the flesh in different variations, could allow the DNA of a cell during division to be controlled and modified for a length of time. The thickness and pigment of skin could be altered during regulated periods of growth. I was tampering with life's most delicate foundations at its very core. The village I grew up in wasn't quite as exposed to the scientific progress being made in areas outside its own borders; It was, at that time, the stuff of science fiction. I could hardly wrap my head around it.

    "I remember that night in the laboratory. It was late at night, -- in the daytime one was bothered with the gaping, silly students, -- and I worked sometimes till dawn. It came suddenly, splendid and complete in my mind. I dreamed of the prospect of changing one's own guise, one's own identity at whim. My mind swam with the opportunities, the variables, and the devious advantages this discovery presented. I thought, in my naiveness, that I'd make a fortune with such technology."

    He came nearer and nearer to making his formulas into experiments, furthering his venture into the field under his professor, Oliver who was "a scientific bounder, a journalist by instinct, a thief of ideas."

    "He was always prying! And I know the knavish system of the scientific world. I simply would not publish and let him share my credit. I worked constantly through the night with the blinds shut and the doors locked; I told no living soul, because I meant to flash my work upon the world with crushing effect, to become famous at a blow."

    "The time came when I had advanced so far into my work, extrapolating upon my initial formula, that I had convinced myself, then, that it would all become possible -- shapeshifting. All it would take was a few chemicals tampering with the body's metabolic processes. I could do it: change the skin, the hair, the face, even the vocal chords of one human being to that of another. Of course, this process is constrained to certain limitations set within our genetic code, but even so, to do such a thing would be to transcend commonality. I beheld, unclouded by doubt, a magnificent vision of all that it might mean to a man. The mystery, the power, the freedom. Drawbacks I saw none. You have only to think! And I, a shabby, poverty-struck, hemmed-in demonstrator, teaching fools in a provincial college, might suddenly become renowned with this achievement."

    He worked three years, and every mountain of difficulty he toiled over showed another from its summit. "Oh, but the infinite details! And the exasperation, -- my professor, always prying. `When are you going to publish this work of yours?' was his everlasting question. It was an immensely stressful task to try and keep the thing a secret. And the students, the cramped means! Three years I had of it!

    "And after three years of secrecy and exasperation, I found that to complete it was impossible, -- impossible. The tutoring I had offered provided insufficient funds, and I had no other occupation." Gibson was pressured into robbing his father's fortune. And although Mr.Gibson was a well endowed man of business and was not unaccustomed to embezzlement, the money did not belong to him, so he hung himself.

    "What? Pressured? . . . No, I did not feel a bit sorry for my father. Well yes of course I know he's dead! My attendance was required at his funeral -- but really, it was not my affair. To me, he seemed to be the victim of his own foolish sentimentality. You know, that was probably the last time I had seen him since I left home; he made it clear to have his casket closed."

    With the remainder of his money, he peeled away from the hungry eyes of other professors. "Well, at any rate, I took a train to the slums some thirty miles away and holed up inside a big ill-managed lodging-house." In a few days, his once plainly furnished room was soon full of newly bought shipment of chemicals, vials, jars, beakers, and such.
    His work was going on steadily there, successfully, drawing near an end. Gibson, as he describes it, was like a man emerging from a thicket. "But even in that lodging-house, I could not escape from the constant intrusions of nearby residents."

    The suspicion of his landlady and his neighbors became aroused. They began to gossip and argue over noises coming from his room, for it was at this time that he began working straight into the most inconvenient hours of the night experimenting on stray animals.

    "Yes, I do appreciate my loss of sympathy. I put it down on the whole inanity of things. Though, I could never get around their infernal cries . . .

    "You don't blame me do you? What else should I have experimented on? Why else do you think it was so difficult for me to finish my work back at that university? Do you suppose I should have experimented on myself? Or perhaps on other humans, and reveal my work to them? No!

    "I wasn't prepared to do such a thing."

    A couple had agreed that he was an electrician, and another old neighbor lady, who happened to be missing a cat, appealed to the notion that he was a vivisectionist. While the couple's assumption was only marginally accurate, the old lady's guess was closer to the truth; Gibson was in possession of her cat.

    The landlady, growing ever more suspicious, enlisted the assistance of local authorities. An officer and a group of men entered the apartment and approached his room. They began banging on his door with threats and inquiries, demanding entrance. The old neighbor lady was also outside clamoring about her missing pet while the landlady argued with her husband. "I had been tormenting a cat in the night, she was sure, -- the old woman's tongue had been busy. They insisted on knowing all about it. The laws against vivisection in the country were very severe." Gibson suspected that they would search his room and by chance investigate his 6 year long undertaking, but he wouldn't dare give anyone the chance.

    "To have worked for years, to have planned and plotted, and then to have some fumbling mess of purblind idiots blundering across my course was too sudden and too much to bear. At the possibility of my work being exposed or interrupted at its very climax, I became very angry and active."

    In his anxiety, he assembled a heap of matches and some furniture and doused it in oil, preparing to set the room on fire to cover his tracks before the men broke down the door. But they did eventually manage to barge into the room and hold him down before he could escape. There was still one match in his hand. He lit the match and the room was in blazes in moments.

    "Yes, I fired it. I think nothing of it. My only regret, however, is that by setting the apartment on fire I was sacrificing my apparatuses and my appliances, which were quite expensive -- I clean lost my temper. But you know, these things can always be bought again."

    While the men fled, Gibson prepared to climb out of a window when the flame had engulfed the entire room and came in contact with a combination of highly volatile chemicals. Gibson was violently thrown out and landed seven meters from the window. He had broken a rib or two, but the most grievous injuries were afflicted to his skin and eyes.

    "Oh, yes, well . . . there's that."

    Still writhing in pain, he escaped from paniced crowds retreating from the growing fires which began to spread across all other buildings. He went into hiding, wandering the streets for days, weary, cold, painful, inexpressibly wretched. He had no refuge, no appliances, no human being in the world in whom he could confide.

    "I survived. That, I think, is enou-"

    To have told his secrets would have given him away. It was during this time that Gibson grew remote and lost any remnant of his affiliance or compassion for his fellow man, resorting to robbery in his desperation --

    "Robbing! Confound it! You'll call me a thief next! Surely, you're not fool enough to dance on the old strings. Can't you see my position?"

    It took days of wandering the streets for shelter, clothes, warm food, and security before he finally found a quiet environment far from the suspicion of the authorities where he could plan and recover. When he regained his strength, he wrapped himself up from his head to his toes with bandages and concealed every inch of his body with clothes.

    "I knew for certain that I wanted to return to my experiments. I still have my notes, you know.

    "I ask myself, constantly, why I cling to these asinine pursuits. In a disgusting sort of way, the grandness I perceived in my findings were no more impressive than my own father's insular ambitions with his publishing company. But what else do I have? I've seen the fruit of my labor once before. I wasn't going to face failure and bring the whole thing to an end just like that. I could start things over, and I would even dare to spend another six years fleeing, hiding, moving about in secrecy, and working under damnable conditions to finish what I had begun."

    Character Personality: Gibson is excessively reclusive, unfriendly, and irascible. When composed, he is cold and brief in manner, impassively so. Other times, he attempts, with an extensive amount of effort, to behave politely and speak with a hint of sincerity to obscure his staggering lack of patience. But Gibson does not take lightly to strangers, especially those who get in the way of his work. He finds it exasperating to monitor his demeanor in public, so when he is considerably agitated, he loses control of his temper and becomes prone to bursts of intense anger. Gibson is rarely at peace unless he remains undisturbed in seclusion and is only ever forthright in the presence of trustworthy companions.

    Character Family: "My father is dead. As for my mother, I haven't heard from her in years. I can't be certain that she's dead, but then again, I won't bother with finding that out myself."
    Character Appearance: He wears a long-sleeved, thick coat, and gloves, his face hidden entirely by bandages, large blue goggles and a wide-brimmed hat. He's quite grotesque, to the theatrical pitch, but not entirely unbelievable.
    Character Occupation (what you do for a living and why?): Gibson is an experimental investigator and a criminal.
    Character Alignment: Neutral Evil, somewhere between the conformist and the intellectual.

    Character Faith/Beliefs: In his experience, Gibson has only had one opportunity to contemplate the existence of the supernatural, and that was when he had fired the lodging-house. He has come to the conclusion that if gods do exist, they are either flawed or extraordinarily cruel. Gibson feels that it is none of his affair to be concerned with gods and spirits, so he tends not to dwell on these matters very often.

    Character Weakness: Arrogant, impatient, selfish, and violent. He relies too much on money, lies frequently, acts hastily, lacks trust in others, and thinks of nothing but his own advantage and his own safety.
    Character Strength: He is highly deceptive.
    Does you character have any health/physical or mental problems/issues?: Gibson exhibits signs of psychopathy and dissociative identity disorder. He has also suffered from a serious accident to the skin and eyes, which is the reason why he conceals his face with bandages and goggles.
    Does your character have any fears? If so what are they and why?: He fears the exposure, vulnerability, and failure.

    Describe your character's long term ambitions/goals/objectives? (Describe In detail) Throughout the years, his inquiries have become an inescapable obsession propogated by his own madness. Though Gibson denies it, he has never sought the secrets to appearance manipulation purely for fame and monetary gain. This is apparent now more than ever. Although he feels very strongly that he will never be able to receive the recognition he desired to acheive when he first began his investigations, what with him being a criminal and all, he continues to seek an end to his work.

    What sequence of events lead your character to arrive in Port Neptune: (Describe In detail)
    There was no mistake. Gibson had to clear out of the country. His crimes were blown completely out of proportion and the news of it exploded.

    "Yes, fires weren't uncommon in those slums, but I'm inclined to believe that the witnesses' accounts of the 'accident' were of distinct interest to the media -- on top of that, it was considered to be the largest act of arson ever committed. But only a filthy brute would take pride in such heinous activities. I did what had to be done.

    "Though, I can't say it wasn't impressive. It was a massive fire. A grand unrestrained gargoyle of a fire which swallowed everything in its path. Everything. I meandered for miles in my crippled state before I was clear enough away from its course."

    Gibson's aforementioned robberies allowed him to amass a hefty sum of money, and as soon as he recovered from his injuries, he set his sights on Port Neptune where he could gather resources and find a suitable place to continue his work in solitude --

    "And in secrecy. People were frightened of me. The news had spread with the same haste as the fire. No matter how far I travelled, as long as I remained in that country, I would be detained and imprisoned."

    A bandit has jumped down from a tree in front of you, he demands you hand over all your belongings or he will kill you and take them anyway. Describe in detail what your character would say and do in this situation:

    "Move." Gibson hurridly crosses behind the bandit, ignoring him entirely

    "I didn't say you could leave."

    "And who are you to give me orders?" Gibson, becoming increasingly annoyed and anxious, steps back for a moment and glares at the bandit.

    "Would you rather I **** over your dead body? If you feel like complicating things for yourself, I'd be obliged to help you." The bandit inches closer to Gibson, provoking him with his knife.

    "I give you one last chance to leave." Gibson bracing himself for a fight, assumes an aggressive stance and continues to step back.

    "Give me a last chance? I'll show you who you're talking to!" The bandit lunges towards him. They fight eachother, and after recieving a few wounds to the arm, Gibson grabs out whatever remotely keen-edged object he has at his disposal and defends himself.

    "A cur! That's what you are. Alright you fool, you've brought it upon yourself!" Gibson continues to fight off the bandit in a fit of murderous rage, slashing, stabbing, and struggling to shed blood.

    This fight shall endure for a period of time until one of them flees or drops dead.

    Your character is in deep emotional or physical pain. Describe in detail what your character would say and do in this situation: Above all else, Gibson is immensely maddened by betrayal, which he experienced quite often while he was still recovering from his injuries. In spite of his efforts, he could not make one decent accomplice. One such incident occured when he enlisted the help of a tramp who ran off with all Gibson's money and pushed him off a roof three stories above ground during a robbery. This was his reaction:

    "Damn! Oh God damn! Of all silly, incomprehensible things! *wheeze* God damn it, GOD DAMN IT! Why did I ever put my trust in that floundering ass! Never again -- I ought to smash his face in. Oh by my honour, I will kill him! I'll kill them all!"

    If your character was the leader of a faction, what would your faction be about and what would its goals be?
    Gibson's faction would start out humble in size and consist of trustworthy unquestioning confederates willing to do all of his shitwork; much like a criminal organization, if you want something to compare it to.
    In your own words describe what you think we mean by Meta and Powergaming?: Metagaming is the act of using knowledge outside of what your character should or would have to your own personal advantage. Powergaming is the act of controlling the actions of another individual's character to influence the outcome of a conflict or an interaction between your character and theirs.
    Other Information: "I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK, I sleep all day and I work all night"
    Posted in: Minecraft Survival Servers (archive)
  • 0

    posted a message on Lassen's Skins
    These are spectacular as always.These are spectacular as always.
    Posted in: Skins
  • To post a comment, please or register a new account.