Avatar of Spoopy Scary

Status

Recent Statuses

1 mo 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: April 3, 2022]


I'm 26 years old and I have learned not to share too much of my personal life on the internet. I work as an English and writing tutor at a local college.

I love literature and poetry, and I also enjoy writing, and I like to think I'm not half bad at it. 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 characters 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 like telling their stories in the sheet sometimes even more than the roleplay itself, which depends on the roleplay itself of course. I want my readers to know how their background influences them as a person, how their personality bleeds into their appearance, and I love watching characters overcome their personal tragedies and finding their true selves as their identities shatter and reform like kintsugi. 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.

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. 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
@Maxx
@Shin Ghost Note
@JunkMail
Calcium Supplements
@megatrash
@ML
Rest in peace, @Polymorpheus
@SepticGentleman
@Byrd Man
@Skai
@Heat
@Chuuya
@Enarr
@Tiger


These Tickle My Funny Bone
You can find me in:

Currently in no roleplays.

Most Recent Posts

Ooooo, right. Used to smaller groups, pardon me.
Another phone post. Woo, it might feel... well, not good, or particularly insightful. These night shifts are killing me.
Finch picked up his pace, now that the others appeared to have decided now was the time to go. Blood-Red Brynn, his name was. Certainly, the same name he had heard from the local rumors. The bandit chief who was back stabbed by his own crew. He seemed an amiable sort, or so that's how he conducted himself. Finch still didn't trust him. For all he knew, Brynn would turn around and kill this lot in their sleep. But he seemed to view this as a genuine job - perhaps he needn't worry. Not now, at least.

His pace was quicker than the others, just from habit. What he lacked in long legs was quick feet. The crossbow was set on his shoulder, the butt and rucksack in front of him. He balled up the clean clothes and stuffed it in the sack, tying it shut again. He had a plan in mind for it, he didn't want to put it on just yet... although, actually, he desperately wanted to.

Now, Cedric, as the one Reachman introduced himself as, was an ass.

That's it.

His size didn't seem so scary when he starts talking, because you're too busy wondering what that sword-on-grindstone cringe tier of a voice he has would sound like when choking on his own teeth. Not that Finch thought he was capable of that... but it was fun to imagine.

"They're not around every corner, I wouldn't think... lest it's the emperor's tower." Finch refuted. "And we only need in their dungeon, and sometimes the entrance is someplace outside the main doors... just punch the elf, I guess."

Finch paused and looked around, anticipating their stares. Here he was, this beggar, talking as though he knows better. Surely an affront on anyone's ego, but dammit, Finch had his own life to save! This Reachman's pride didn't matter!

"I..." Finch started to explain himself. He sighed in resignation. "I... used to hang around some of those spots. Fantasized a bit over the stolen possessions box, ways to get in... but I had never actually done a heist, or... something like this before."

Finch swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. The realization of the sort of people surrounding him once again striking him. He immediately became self-conscious.

"My... my name's Finch - I- I mean my last name, but, ah... I can go in and out of places quickly. It's easy when nobody notices you."
@LeidenschaftHe'll grow on you like a mold in a moist spot.
lol

It's good, I'd accept it. The only thing I'd press is to mention what age he was at different points through his history so that the timeline is easily read (with him being 37 now, I just think I'd be interested to see exactly how far back these events took place), but that's not a serious issue by any means - it just stems from my own curiosity. Only other thing that I noticed - and it's not your fault - a time frame wasn't mentioned regarding how long it takes to be a squire. When I wrote my sheet, I did some research on historical knighthood back in the medieval era, and squires usually held their position for 7 years before knighthood. You put down 5 years. This is neither of our faults, it's just an inconsistency in the lore that should be corrected and I want to wait for Maxx to get back to us - but the detail is so minor that I wouldn't let that stop you from posting it in the character tab. After all, one of us can edit our sheets later after we get an answer.

This is not in my power, but I would close any Ram Knight submissions from here on out after Royce.

In any case, this is not a requirement, just something of my own personal interest: what is Royce doing, or what are his thoughts on the current invasion? We've got hordes of wights walking into Maceron at the moment (and more selfishly, what are his thoughts of the attempted coup three months back by four of the Ram Knights and one of their squires?).
You see Maulakanth in the background holding a massive wheelbarrow. He looks into the camera and waves his hand.
Maybe he pretends he's a tax collector, goes around houses, takes their money and we all GTFO before they realize something is wrong.
Already their precious little band was falling apart. What was to be expected, recruiting a bundle of prisoners? Finch knew he was a criminal, perhaps only a petty one, but criminal nonetheless. He stole, circumventing the law. As far as he was concerned, all these people were too, despite what they claimed. The Altmer, as Altmer are wont to do, pictures himself above law, above man. So far above, he thought to kill man and go unpunished for it. So fierce was Finch's disdain he chose not to believe the Altmer in the woman participating in daedra worship, that instead, the Vigilant used it as a cover for his own hate-crime. But Finch kept silent, there'd be no fighting the zealot warrior, as much as it pained him to admit it. The healer was rather ditzy, a wanderer in the clouds, but he wasn't so different - but surrounded by fire and bloodshed, Finch couldn't help but be sober. The mage, a righteous and proud sort, as distrusting of the Altmer as he, but perhaps for different reasons. How could she hold onto such a pride, especially now? She was chained next to killers and thieves, and she thought herself better than the rest?

This time, he actually made effort into holding his tongue.

The precious band was truly in shambles. No one, save maybe the healer and woman warrior, liked or trusted each other as far as he could tell. In the end, it was about getting a job done for the sake of preserving their own hides. This seemed like a job that Finch could do on his own, none of these folks looked like they could do much to help! The orc, especially? Maybe if things went bad, he could cover the escape, but Finch would prefer if nobody had to die for the sake of some noble skeever. In fact, Finch was already coming up with a plan, assuming the others would be willing to listen.

Odds are, they weren't - but Finch would do it himself if he had to. He wasn't about to let them get in the way of saving his own life.

"I think I could get in... no problem." Finch finally said, attempting to assert himself among the brouhaha of the band. Perhaps talking about the actual job would distract them from their political and religious debates. He started following in Kiralla's footsteps by walking, maybe to finally veer away from the ruins of Meir Thorvale. "If some of you can come up with a distraction, and drag some of the guards out of the castle, it'll be like stealing sweetrolls."

In the end, he'd still need somebody to watch his back. But none of them looked too trustworthy. He remembered one of the Reachman, the quieter one. Whatever his name was, he remembered hearing some rumor about a man of that name travelling the High Rock roads. A bandit of some sort? He seemed like a careful, meticulous sort, maybe enough so that he could keep pace with Finch while not getting caught. But the Reachman was also a killer. Finch felt that having that man watching his back might leave him with a knife in it... it was all the better to work as though he were alone, anyway. To keep that extra eye on the bandit.

He caught himself staring at Brynn. 'Damn it!'

"Uh..." Finch stuttered, trying to come up with a save.

"So... I... might need someone ta' come with me and... watch my back?" He suggested.
Junkrat is my spirit animal.
Shit man, I can't criticize. I'd probably do the same thing. D.va and Zenyatta look super fun.

Who else is up? Has everyone caught up at the gates yet?
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet