MRWETHERB
Level 6
OOC (Out-Of-Character) Information:
What is your In-Game-Name (IGN)? Please include ALL your alternative accounts:
MRWETHERB
Do you have Discord? If so, what is your username?:
@mrwetherb_
List your timezone and country:
USA, MST (Mountain Standard Time)
Describe your activity:
Currently, I am on SRP every day and have been for the past few months. In fact, I have played SRP since around November of 2021. I have had a second Minecraft account since then, because I got permanently logged out of my first one, MRWETHER, for an unknown reason in around late ~2022. In these nearly six years on SRP, I have been able to sustain many connections and bond with several people that I call my closest friends. This server has become an immense part of my life as a hobby that I hope to engage even further with in being a Reporter. Come August, however, I will be busy with work and school, but mostly during the week. This will not stop me from getting on every weekend I can to meet quotas and continue to have fun on SRP.
Link any significant applications (e.g., Roles/Teams, exclude languages):
Despite my frequent interaction with gangs and other crime outlets, I have not applied for any other factions.
What is your motivation to apply for reporter?:
As I stated previously, I have been on this server for close to six years. Over time, I have adapted to the changes the server has provided and learned to take advantage of them. I feel that, in my experience, it is difficult to truly learn the avenues for roleplay that SRP has to offer unless they are shoved right in your face as a new player. What do I mean by this? For the first few years, I had no clue what jobs you could have In-Character. All I did, as many other SRPers do, was engage in drama or fun hangouts that kept me entertained from the rest of the world. Plus, I took SRP as an opportunity to socialize as best I could during the height of the pandemic. Then, as I was slowly drawn into CrimeRP later on within the past couple of years, I found that there is a plethora of ways to cleverly craft a story for one character. Essentially, CrimeRP made clear to me the various opportunities in roleplay, such as conceptualizing counters against IC attacks or coming up with new "rackets" to profit from, shifting my perspective of SRP from an outlet for socializing into a venue for collaborative writing.
Do you have any experience with writing? What is your relationship with writing?:
In short, yes. My time on SRP has provided me with all of my motivation for every story I've ever written, each character I've ever made, and even helped me to collaborate with several of my closest friends to create entire and complete universes with the utmost detail. Verily, it is the reason for my character's existence right now.
Before "Mercato" Di Maiori was made the vessel for developing my current story, Marseille M. Amias, a (rather aptly named) Frenchman, was his precursor. In this pre-planned character arc, and in preparation for engaging more in CrimeRP with these characters, Marseille was to spontaneously discover that he had two younger brothers, twins, who were separated at birth. Perfectly, the two brothers were created as foils to Marseille's overall personality, highlighting opposite aspects of his ego and temperament.
Aimé Amias, the clinically speaking undertone to Marseille's personality, was to serve as the superego to the brothers. In crime, were Marseille to make a decision, be it strategizing or dealing, Aimé was the one to speak out on the logistics of the decision and whether it should really be made. As his foil, Aimé was to serve generally as the "good angel" on Marseille's shoulder. Matthéo Amias, however, would serve as the general "bad angel" on Marseille's shoulder. As the Id to Marseille's personality, the intention for Matthéo was to be vulgar and performative, acting primarily on emotion rather than logic, and gratifying pleasure over consequences, speaking with more outward aggression than Marseille, and serving as the contrary overtone to his personality.
Finally, from these two characters comes the balance between the particular rights and wrongs that made up Marseille's overall identity, operating as the ego of the three. The ego is the standard for logic and decision-making. Simply, without the ego, both the Id and superego fail to adequately fulfill a role in judgment, leaving them to flounder in the absence of the ego.
Despite this well-crafted balance, I was forced at first to scrap such an idea following the death of Marseille. Indeed, I was convinced I would never be able to perform this idea in roleplay until I made the Di Maiori. Another aspect of the Amias brothers was that they would form a mafia-like family, working for cash and reputation to improve their general wealth, just with a French nuance. Instead, still fueled with creativity, I made the effort to create an entirely new character and lean into the mafia role, focusing heavily on Sicilian-Italian lore, such as the Omertà as a vow of silence when entering the Family or the closeness of Italian families. Cosa Nostra (Sicilian Mafia) itself influenced my lore for this character, and his younger brothers (comparable to the Amias twins), with their backstory deeply wrapped around the real-life history of Cosa Nostra (see here for Family history).
Truly, my passion bleeds not only for writing, but for the gratification received when brainstorming a creative idea. In a media world with millions of new ideas flying around, it feels productive to form an individual thought that is distinctive from the rest. This, in some aspects, is what I feel I have done (especially in other projects), and it fuels the spark for all of my enthusiasm on this server.
Are you aware of - and will follow - the set of rules provided to you?:
I most certainly am, and I most certainly will.
Why should we accept you over others?:
Certainly, I am deeply connected with writing, not just in storytelling, but also in journalism itself. I have participated for many years in high school in the school newspaper, which proved to be the only paper-printed issue in my district, winning us years of awards. I have experience writing several articles in the legitimate LQTQ (Lead, Quote, Transition, Quote) format, as well as others, to effectively produce an interesting and captivating story for real readers. Furthermore, I strongly value digital communications because of this, which influenced me to minor in communications at ASU, where I am in my first year right now. Although I am even still unsure as to which career path I will choose, I have always strongly considered journalism as a field in which I could be successful. I do not doubt that I will provide the same for this role if I get it, and hopefully give SRPers a unique read.
Do you understand you have to stay completely neutral with all reports? (Your report can't have any OOC or IC bias towards a specific group.)
I understand.
Do you trust that you will be able to stay active and complete the monthly quota?:
Yes, I do.
Summarise what you imagine work as a reporter is:
I imagine and predict the role of a reporter to be filled with action, more than one might already assume. I have seen reporters in the stickiest situations, and engaging with the most well-known people in the server, such as Judge Katsuhito in his most recent speech regarding Onesung, or writing call-to-action articles for the people of Karakura to read to agree, disagree and debate equally. Moreover, I hope this role will highlight my character's versatility in CrimeRP, as he is already well-known in the atmosphere.
IC (In-Character) Information:
Treat this section like it is your own character answering it
Mercato approached the station desk, his hands formally closed behind his back, unmoving. His patience was dense, and nerves a usual still. Mercato’s attire, an Italian-crafted two-piece business suit, highlighted around his broad figure, with bold arms and a smaller waist. His constant professional look implied a certain skill in campaigning or finance, yet the numerous gold and silver rings enchanting his left fingers provided an otherwise more shrouded profession. Making contact with the receptionist, he greeted to them a saccharine smile.
“What is your full name?”
Mercato assumed a rather scanty chair before the interviewer’s desk, with a loose demeanor, spreading his knees outward beyond his own footprint, and his hands again clasped in his lap. “Mercato Di Maiori,” his characteristic smile meeting again.
"Do you have a preferred name? Nickname?"
He nodded, a strand of gelled hair breaking to an otherwise slicked forehead. “I am happy with Mercato,” he enounced. “But I prefer to approach this role with greater professionalism. Call me Mister Di Maiori, please.”
"How old are you?"
“I am 29. Just turned, you know.”
“Do you have past job experience?”
Mercato tittered. “No, actually… I’ve moved out of my mother’s basement just last week, in fact!” His dry irony pervaded before the interviewer, dying rather quickly. “No, sir, I have yet to apply for any other job in this city.”
“Do you have a degree? What’s your academic history and your qualifications?"
“In college, I completed my bachelor’s degree here in Karakura. Before that, I was privately homeschooled by my Father,” he nodded. “I learned quite a bit about finance and economics. That was his specialty, you know.”
“Where were you born? Your ethnicity?”
Shifted down in his seat, Mercato leaned forward, his palms flat on the desk. “I am from Sicily!” he hummed, tone thick with pride. “Dear Father sent me here at eighteen. He wanted me to have a ‘better life,’ if you know what I mean.” He returned in his lax posture, nodding to the interviewer.
“Finally, what is your phone number?”
Mercato, blinking in a flurry, quickly slid his thigh in reach for a pant pocket. “I couldn’t tell you off the top of my head, verily,” he admitted, pulling his phone and distancing the screen from his eyes in focus, and in concession to revealing his climbing age. “030-001-1753. You would think I should have remembered that by now!”
“Okay… How would you describe yourself in under 150 words?”
He stilled in quiet consideration, eyes ruminating while still set on the interviewer. “Calculated,” Mercato articulated, easing to his word. “Every action ought to have a reason behind it. Mine often do.”
"What would you most like to write about? How would you achieve this, and would you consider going out of your comfort zone?"
Mercato pushed an elbow into the barred arm of the chair, fingers stroking a shadow stubble. “Commerce, I think,” he began, “would be my strong suit. As I said, Father-dear configured my younger education to follow lessons in accounting or enterprise.” He nodded again. “I would indeed leave my comfort zone, if there ever were one, which I doubt, and I am certainly open to pursuing dangerous journals for the sake of the story.”
"What are your expectations for this job?"
Mercato folded one leg over the other, taking a measured breath before answering. "To write honestly," he replied. "A newspaper ought to preserve the happenings of a city. Commerce, politics, crime, celebration—it is all, indeed, the lifeblood of this city’s history." He proffered a restrained smile. "I expect to meet remarkable people, ask difficult questions, and document matters that others would rather leave forgotten. If I leave each day having informed someone, then I shall consider the work worthwhile."
"Do you have a criminal record? Please, name them, if yes."
Mercato's smile lingered, though it narrowed almost imperceptibly. “No,” he plained. “I have never been convicted, nor charged with any crime in my lifetime.” His sharp shoulders raised in a shrug. “I closely tend to keep my affairs orderly. A disarranged fete is rather expensive, verily.”
"What languages are you fluent in?"
“Italian!” he praised, pride yielding again. “Though, too, I have been taught English in my early academics, as is the business language of the world, as well as Japanese, of course.” Mercato nodded again. “Though the famiglia always hears my most natural diction.”
PROMPTS: You will have to write two reports about a topic of your choice. Here we can see how pronounced your writing is and how creative you are. Use your own formatting and your own report idea. (If you're found plagiarizing an actual report or another applicant, you will be denied.)
#1 - General report. Report about a topic, informing players about an event or significant issues to Karakura.
#2 - Interview. It's important to have well-rounded questions. Create your own interview with ten questions or more. And answer them yourself.
The air near the pier echoed the low hum of engines and distant chatter from early spectators gathering along the shoreline. A yacht floated just offshore, its deck already arranged for the evening’s event.
Mercato, rather, Mister Di Maiori adjusted his posture as he approached the interviewer’s subject, recorder in hand.
“Reikawa Japan. I appreciate you taking the time," Mercato thanked. "Karakura’s been giving quite the buzz about your little project.”
Japan leaned casually against a railing, glancing briefly toward the yacht before looking back with an easy expression, a colorful pair of shades veiling his grayed eyes.
“Yeah, I figured it would start making noise. That’s kind of the point.”
Mercato offered a faint smile, noting it down.
Mercato: “Then let’s start simply,” he settled, starting with a button on the recorder. “What exactly is Total Boat Love Drama Island? Quite a mouthful, indeed.”
Japan exhaled through his nose, almost amused.
Reikawa Japan: “It’s a social elimination game on a yacht. People sign up, pay in, and compete through rounds. But the real competition isn’t the tasks, it’s the people.”
Mercato tilted his head slightly.
Mercato: “Meaning?”
Reikawa Japan: “Meaning you can be the best at every challenge and still get voted out if nobody trusts you. That’s where the real game is.”
Mercato nodded once, sluggishly.
Mercato: “And why a boat? Why isolate everyone offshore instead of using the city?”
Japan pushed off the railing slightly, glancing toward the water.
Reikawa Japan: “Because I want people locked in. No walking away, no resetting the situation. You’re stuck with everyone you’re dealing with. That’s where things actually happen.”
Mercato let that sit for a moment before continuing.
Mercato: “Explain the structure of elimination.”
Reikawa Japan: "The name of the game relies on a repeating series of rounds that every player goes through. By the end of the round, everyone gets a vote."
Mercato: “And the eliminated?”
Japan guffawed, rather loudly.
Reikawa Japan: “They don’t leave. Well, we throw them off the boat, unless they can’t swim. When they climb back on, they become ghosts. They can’t win anymore, but they can still watch and interfere socially. Stir things up. Influence outcomes without directly playing.”
Mercato’s pen paused briefly.
Mercato: “It is… intentionally disruptive, yes?”
Reikawa Japan: “It is. That’s where half the entertainment comes from.”
Mercato again nodded, crashing waves sounding over his scratching pen to paper.
Mercato: “No participant cap?”
Reikawa Japan: “No hard cap. We scale it depending on turnout. Bigger group just means more dynamics and more value in the end.”
Mercato gave a slight approving hum.
Mercato: “Let’s talk numbers. Prize structure.”
Japan answered promptly in an almost recited reply.
Reikawa Japan: “Starts at ¥20,000. It increases based on how many people join. Entry fees build it up.”
Mercato: “Entry fee being ¥10,000 per player, correct?”
Reikawa Japan: “Right. It keeps people committed and directly feeds the prize pool.”
Mercato leaned slightly forward, forearm against the dry, beach-weathered wooden railing edging the pier.
Mercato: “Can losers return? Winners?”
Japan nodded.
Reikawa Japan: “¥8,000 off. Anyone can come back. If they do, it means they enjoyed it. I want them back in the mix.”
Mercato’s tone remained steady.
Mercato: “What kind of person tends to succeed in your system?”
Japan finally looked back toward Mercato rather than the water.
Reikawa Japan: “Not the strongest. Not the loudest. The ones who understand timing. When to speak, when to lie low, when to flip a vote. Social awareness wins more than anything else here.”
Mercato closed his notebook slightly, as if concluding that line of thought.
Mercato: “And personally, why run something like this at all? Money?”
Japan shrugged lightly.
Reikawa Japan: “It’s profitable, yeah. But also… It’s fun watching people actually engage with each other like that. Real decisions, real reactions. You don’t get that from simple competitions.”
Mercato permitted a brief pause before his final question.
Mercato: “Do you see this becoming a recurring fixture in Karakura?”
Japan glanced once more toward the yacht, then back.
Reikawa Japan: “If people keep showing up and it keeps paying out? Yeah. No reason to stop something that works.”
Mercato closed his notebook.
Mercato: “Then I suppose Karakura will be watching closely.”
Japan gave a feigned grin.
Reikawa Japan: “They usually do.”
Mercato rebounded his grin, pausing the recording and stepping away from the pier.
Mercato, rather, Mister Di Maiori adjusted his posture as he approached the interviewer’s subject, recorder in hand.
“Reikawa Japan. I appreciate you taking the time," Mercato thanked. "Karakura’s been giving quite the buzz about your little project.”
Japan leaned casually against a railing, glancing briefly toward the yacht before looking back with an easy expression, a colorful pair of shades veiling his grayed eyes.
“Yeah, I figured it would start making noise. That’s kind of the point.”
Mercato offered a faint smile, noting it down.
Mercato: “Then let’s start simply,” he settled, starting with a button on the recorder. “What exactly is Total Boat Love Drama Island? Quite a mouthful, indeed.”
Japan exhaled through his nose, almost amused.
Reikawa Japan: “It’s a social elimination game on a yacht. People sign up, pay in, and compete through rounds. But the real competition isn’t the tasks, it’s the people.”
Mercato tilted his head slightly.
Mercato: “Meaning?”
Reikawa Japan: “Meaning you can be the best at every challenge and still get voted out if nobody trusts you. That’s where the real game is.”
Mercato nodded once, sluggishly.
Mercato: “And why a boat? Why isolate everyone offshore instead of using the city?”
Japan pushed off the railing slightly, glancing toward the water.
Reikawa Japan: “Because I want people locked in. No walking away, no resetting the situation. You’re stuck with everyone you’re dealing with. That’s where things actually happen.”
Mercato let that sit for a moment before continuing.
Mercato: “Explain the structure of elimination.”
Reikawa Japan: "The name of the game relies on a repeating series of rounds that every player goes through. By the end of the round, everyone gets a vote."
Mercato: “And the eliminated?”
Japan guffawed, rather loudly.
Reikawa Japan: “They don’t leave. Well, we throw them off the boat, unless they can’t swim. When they climb back on, they become ghosts. They can’t win anymore, but they can still watch and interfere socially. Stir things up. Influence outcomes without directly playing.”
Mercato’s pen paused briefly.
Mercato: “It is… intentionally disruptive, yes?”
Reikawa Japan: “It is. That’s where half the entertainment comes from.”
Mercato again nodded, crashing waves sounding over his scratching pen to paper.
Mercato: “No participant cap?”
Reikawa Japan: “No hard cap. We scale it depending on turnout. Bigger group just means more dynamics and more value in the end.”
Mercato gave a slight approving hum.
Mercato: “Let’s talk numbers. Prize structure.”
Japan answered promptly in an almost recited reply.
Reikawa Japan: “Starts at ¥20,000. It increases based on how many people join. Entry fees build it up.”
Mercato: “Entry fee being ¥10,000 per player, correct?”
Reikawa Japan: “Right. It keeps people committed and directly feeds the prize pool.”
Mercato leaned slightly forward, forearm against the dry, beach-weathered wooden railing edging the pier.
Mercato: “Can losers return? Winners?”
Japan nodded.
Reikawa Japan: “¥8,000 off. Anyone can come back. If they do, it means they enjoyed it. I want them back in the mix.”
Mercato’s tone remained steady.
Mercato: “What kind of person tends to succeed in your system?”
Japan finally looked back toward Mercato rather than the water.
Reikawa Japan: “Not the strongest. Not the loudest. The ones who understand timing. When to speak, when to lie low, when to flip a vote. Social awareness wins more than anything else here.”
Mercato closed his notebook slightly, as if concluding that line of thought.
Mercato: “And personally, why run something like this at all? Money?”
Japan shrugged lightly.
Reikawa Japan: “It’s profitable, yeah. But also… It’s fun watching people actually engage with each other like that. Real decisions, real reactions. You don’t get that from simple competitions.”
Mercato permitted a brief pause before his final question.
Mercato: “Do you see this becoming a recurring fixture in Karakura?”
Japan glanced once more toward the yacht, then back.
Reikawa Japan: “If people keep showing up and it keeps paying out? Yeah. No reason to stop something that works.”
Mercato closed his notebook.
Mercato: “Then I suppose Karakura will be watching closely.”
Japan gave a feigned grin.
Reikawa Japan: “They usually do.”
Mercato rebounded his grin, pausing the recording and stepping away from the pier.