Spoopy Scary
Member
☠️🌸soft grunge🌸☠️
STATUS: i hear dies irae bells ringing in my ossicles every time i claw from the dirt and peer wistfully through the rpg tomb doors thinking, "one last job..." another bony finger of the monkey's paw curls up 5 mos ago
- Last Seen: 11 hrs ago
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 843 (0.23 / day)
- VMs: 1
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Username history
- Spoopy Scary 10 yrs ago
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SphincterSphinx,
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Status
Recent Statuses
5 mos ago
Current
i hear dies irae bells ringing in my ossicles every time i claw from the dirt and peer wistfully through the rpg tomb doors thinking, "one last job..." another bony finger of the monkey's paw curls up
3 yrs ago
i can't believe it's already christmas today
2
likes
4 yrs ago
*skeletal hand emerges from an unmarked grave* the drive thru forgot my side order
2
likes
4 yrs ago
Imagine having an opinion on rpg dot com
4 yrs ago
Let’s play a game where you try to sext me and I call the police
1
like
Bio
Maybe the real plot was the friends we made along the way.
[Last Updated: February 1, 2025]I'm too old for this shit and I have learned not to share too much of my personal life on the internet. I earned a 4-year English degree, work as an English and writing tutor at a local college, a communications copywriter for a non-profit, and I'm a development editor at an academic publishing company. That means I word good.
I like literature and poetry. I first started writing as a hobby with online roleplay at the start of 2010, and I've slowly drifted away from it in recent years. I enjoy most genres, but if I had to pick a couple of favorites, they would be sci-fi and high fantasy—heavy emphasis on the high fantasy. Some of my favorite moments have come from Elder Scrolls roleplays, since it appeals to the D&D nerd in me.
I have a tendency to get carried away with making my character sheets. I've always been a fan of characters overcoming their weaknesses and obstacles and I try to make that show in many of my characters. Therefore, many of the narratives I explore come from a place of vulnerability, but I try to balance the heavy themes with light whimsy. Sometimes though that door swings the other way and I lean into the whimsy while sneaking in moments of vulnerability.
I also try to research whatever it is I'm writing about so that I'm not just spitting into the wind. Unless that's what my character is doing, in which case I try to make sure that's made clear in my writing. Sometimes that gets in the way, like in the case of blacksmith character I wanted to make but felt compelled to study up on blacksmithing first (don't fall into that trap, no one really gives a shit).
It’s kind of hard to define my style, as I’m influenced by all sorts of literary movements and schools of criticism; dark romanticism, modernism, post-modernism, Marxism, feminism, post-structuralism—I have a lot of isms in my pocket. Nathaniel Hawthorne is one of my favorite dark romantic authors, Dickinson is one of my favorite naturalist poets, Judith Ortiz Cofer, Langston Hughes, and Robert Frost—they’ve all in some ways informed my writing, as well as many others. I even tend to look to some of my fellow guild mates for inspiration or analyze what I like about their writing and see what I can do to improve my own through their example.
Prime Rib Boneheads
@Dragonbud@Luminous Beings
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[@Shin Ghost Note]
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A Bundle of Numbskulls
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@Amaranth
@LadyTabris
[@Gcold]
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Calcium Supplements
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Rest in peace, @Polymorpheus
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These Tickle My Funny Bone
You can find me in:Currently in no roleplays.
Most Recent Posts
Sorry to anyone that got frozen because of me. I've been working almost constantly.
I'm a good writer, I swear.
I thought we went over the three sets of powers stuff tho? I mean, it's one thing if they're related to one another, but they're three separate things. I get it's based off of an Egyptian god, but let's reiterate: an Egyptian god.
Good.
My one singular sheet of which the quality does not at all match up with the time spent being written will be up tomorrow or some shit. Finals have been kicking my ass.
How nice of your school board to be tenderizing my quarry for me.
I find the gender ratio in this rp amusing. We have fifteen girls and six boys. Generally in these rps, that ratio is the other way around.
Are you telling me that I alone possess a third of all male characters?
I could start a revolt.
Probably wouldn't work.
Their army has like 140% more womanpower.
Andrea Pasternack
@Scoundrel
Her apparitions were always something like guardians. She's so far been able to do something such as having a conversation with them, but they were apparently a team. Asking certain questions seemed of her reach, at least for now, and such questions sometimes included interrogative questions. To some, there was no answer, only dead silence. They at least had the coordination cognition and complex decision making to choose whether or not they could speak or address questions. So even with all the time in world, she's been unable to find out if her apparitions actively scanned the brains and thoughts of all people, especially potential threats, in what she assumed was an effort to protect one of their own vulnerable kind - as how they perceived Andrea - or if they could passively receive their thoughts as though they were signal waves.
Regardless, they've been infinitely useful.
When Andrea had her back turned, several voices slithered into her mind, wispy and breathy. "RED MALE. ENCROACHING FLANK. AUDIO ANOMALY--"
Andrea whipped around to meet face to face with a red-headed boy around her age, scruffy looking and as though he didn't take much care in his appearance, but eager, to some degree. She knew some asshole intellectual elitists back in high-school with a similar value, but ironically, they didn't seem to understand the idea and purpose behind keeping neat and proper appearances, or the importance behind it and proper hygiene. She hoped this one wasn't like one of them.
"--AROUSED."
The expression on her face fell flat. She really hoped that this boy wasn't like one of them. She'd give him a chance, though.
"I'd say, the fun they're having down there shouldn't be missed by the likes of you." The stranger said in greeting. Andrea was slightly taken back by the abrupt formality in a sea of excited children and young adults. He continued,"then again, we all have our personal definitions of enjoyment. Some happen to find it in the seats of solitude, like me as an example."
'Oh my. He's definitely laying it on thick.'
In a way though, it was somewhat refreshing from the usual banter. She expected to meet interesting and unusual people on this excursion, and she had to say, she wasn't quite yet disappointed in the first ten minutes.
"Richard by the way," the boy introduced himself as with a curt nod. "Pardon my intrusion, hopefully I hadn't bothered your time with silence as I failed to notice that my businesses should be of my own."
He retreated into the warmth of the cabin, where he would await in comfort for whatever response Andrea had to give. Red flags were raising in her head. Did he walk himself into her own quarters?
"Nonsense, fine sir," Andrea said in a playfully teasing manner and similar tone, puffing up her chest, "for there art no other way to play in introduction with thine self!"
She dropped the silly behavior and squeezed behind Richard and the doorway and positioned herself between him and the rest of the room where her belongings had resided. She sighed and crossed her arms, shifting her weight on one foot, hip to the side.
"My only question is how your own business 'pertains' to my things." She commented critically. She shot her blue eyes at him, and while definitely displeased, did not come across as intentionally mean. She still wanted to give him a chance, despite the creepy factor. The apparitions didn't label him a predator. He didn't seem to want her stuff. At least not at the time. To be honest, it was her own fault for leaving the door open in the first place.
Abraham Gene
@Verminlord
The moment Abe touched her hand, he felt a chill shoot up his arm. Damn, this girl was a walking fucking ice block. Why wouldn't she be indoors in weather like this if it gets to her so bad? He contemplated the idea of, at least for scoring extra points, of extending the favor of sharing his wool coat for the time being until they went indoors. But the risk involved? Maybe the likes of her couldn't measure the worth of possessions, but his outer coat, unlike the kinds of others he saw on board (like the gray one the blonde girl wore on the tier below him), was carefully knitted virgin wool and cashmere. It was fitted, and at least worth a fifteen hundred dollars. It was top tier stuff that'd help keep even the pickiest nancy warm in this chill weather.
Decisions, decisions...
"Chloe. My name that is, nice to meet you." The girl introduced herself. "Sorry, I get a little spaced out when i'm too cold, a side affect you know?" Chloe gave a nervous smile. That much she didn't need to explain to Abe. Girl reminded him of an old friend that froze himself for fucking fun or something. "So, do you know anyone else around here? I have to admit you're the first of the others I've spoken to."
"Can't say I do." Abraham admitted. Honestly, he wasn't even thinking about that at the moment. His mind was still stuck on the moral quandary presented to him. Worst comes to worst, he could always hunt her down. The school couldn't be that big. Boston and Chicago were bigger.
"Here." Abe said, finally resigning and taking his outer layer off. It still had the warmth of Abraham's body clinging to it. He hoped he wouldn't have to regret this. "You look cold, yeah? Go ahead, wear it for now. Just... be careful with it."
And who said chivalry was dead? Well, Abe did. Time and again. Not when it was convenient, though. Then he was all about it! What's more, it might even attract the admiration of onlookers. There was no downside!
Aside from risking the coat, of course.
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