Sorry guys, had a rough week but I am back and I hope y'all can forgive me :') thank you so much for waiting
sandstorm
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Bio
I go by Sandy to my online friends ^^ So feel free to call me that, or Mackerel I suppose. Super excited to jump into a new RP. I may be a bit rusty. I write often but I'm still getting into the swing of things with RP. I'm a mid 20's female. I dig RPing either gender, usually I gravitate towards the male role as that's all I've ever done. When you only have access to RPing with women, one usually gives in for a Het plot, and Lord do I love giving in lmao but either way
Prefer 18+
I think sex and the sins of life belong in storytelling.
I can respond roughly once a day when doing advanced RPs (maybe more if I'm really excited) but prefer RPs that are pretty loose with timing.
Semi-lit (3 Para min and good punctuation)
Always open to DMs
Shoot your ideas my way if you're into the following:
-Horror
-Supernatural
-Dark Fantasy (classy pleassee)
-War/violence
-Romance
-Surrealism
-Religious themes
-Cults
I can do a happier themed RP but the plot has got to be heavy adventure.
If you hit me up to do School anything type of plots that are not college I will probably end up getting bored. Not a fan of the school setting, even with magic elements.
~Sandy~
Prefer 18+
I think sex and the sins of life belong in storytelling.
I can respond roughly once a day when doing advanced RPs (maybe more if I'm really excited) but prefer RPs that are pretty loose with timing.
Semi-lit (3 Para min and good punctuation)
Always open to DMs
Shoot your ideas my way if you're into the following:
-Horror
-Supernatural
-Dark Fantasy (classy pleassee)
-War/violence
-Romance
-Surrealism
-Religious themes
-Cults
I can do a happier themed RP but the plot has got to be heavy adventure.
If you hit me up to do School anything type of plots that are not college I will probably end up getting bored. Not a fan of the school setting, even with magic elements.
~Sandy~
Most Recent Posts
The woman came to in a fury of illness and passionate screaming. Like waking from a bad dream. Perhaps drugs did that to a person. Wracked them with fear. Made them fall apart. Or it was the demon that had put her in this state of brokenness. Kyle wanted to cry. She was freaking out and it was freaking him out more than he’d like to admit. Jumping near out of his skin when she first awoke.
“Whoa! Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Kyle tried. And through the shouting, the phone rang off the hook. Desperately Kyle looked to Randall, who equally was attempting to steady the woman. Forgoing the phone to pat her back as she tossed the contents of her stomach again, agitation lighting in the quirk of his brow.
“Fuck.” Randall practically barks the word out. “We ain’t open yet. Get the damn phone Kyle before I strangle ya with it.” Randall shakes his head at the words this girl was spewing. Coke and everclear. Whatever Kyle had dragged here was bad news. And she had tossed the contents of her stomach all over his office. It made him want to fire the new kid. In fact he would. This was a fireable offense in his opinion.
The teenager is scrambling to the phone, fingers fumbling with it before clearing his throat and in a very high pitched ‘everything is fine’ voice he answers. “Saucy’s Pizzeria. This is Kyle. We’re closed.” Kyle hoped the person on the other line could not hear the commotion currently unfolding on his end. It would totally look bad for the business. Whatever the person on the other end said was drowned out by the sense of someone coming up to the office. In his scrambled state he felt a sense of relief and was surprised by the intensity of the voice behind the door.
“Everyone in the office, slowly come out with your hands up. One at a Time. I’m a cop, I have my weapon drawn, and a riot shield. I know how to use them and If I think I see a gun or fast movement, I’ll blow a hole through you and the wall behind you.”
Kyle obediently dropped the phone and lifted his hands up, Randall on the other hand seemed as if he would have an aneurysm at any moment, teeth gritted. “What the fuck type a’ cop threatens to blast a hole though innocent citizens?” Randall shouted back. “Motherfuckers breaking into my store. Threatenin’ to shoot me?” Kyle was beside him in an instant, shaking his head. Pleading with his eyes.
“We are totally coming out. And completely unarmed!” Kyle said. But god it sounded forced. Maybe suspicious even. “I-I’m opening the door. Please don’t shoot me!” Kyle tried again. Reaching for the knob, searching with his entire being for any sense this would put him six feet under. It never came. In fact the sense of dread had lifted to such a degree that he could almost breathe. That Cherry lady had slinked off his radar for the most part. It made the boy want to fling the door open wide and leap into the arms of precieved safety.
As if on instinct, Kyle placed himself in the line of sight of Randall and the battered woman. Attempting a smile. “Good morning, Sir. Officer.” Kyle swallowed and tried the word again. “Officer.” But it didn’t feel quite like the correct title. And there was something off about the guy. Not necessarily in a bad way, just odd. Like the man before him was hiding something.
“You know trespassing is a crime.” Randall spoke from behind Kyle. “Copper or not. You need a warrant to be in my shop if you are tryin’ to dig around here.” The store owner had also taken up a sort of stance before the woman, just as Kyle had done. “Let me see some kind of badge.”
“Whoa! Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Kyle tried. And through the shouting, the phone rang off the hook. Desperately Kyle looked to Randall, who equally was attempting to steady the woman. Forgoing the phone to pat her back as she tossed the contents of her stomach again, agitation lighting in the quirk of his brow.
“Fuck.” Randall practically barks the word out. “We ain’t open yet. Get the damn phone Kyle before I strangle ya with it.” Randall shakes his head at the words this girl was spewing. Coke and everclear. Whatever Kyle had dragged here was bad news. And she had tossed the contents of her stomach all over his office. It made him want to fire the new kid. In fact he would. This was a fireable offense in his opinion.
The teenager is scrambling to the phone, fingers fumbling with it before clearing his throat and in a very high pitched ‘everything is fine’ voice he answers. “Saucy’s Pizzeria. This is Kyle. We’re closed.” Kyle hoped the person on the other line could not hear the commotion currently unfolding on his end. It would totally look bad for the business. Whatever the person on the other end said was drowned out by the sense of someone coming up to the office. In his scrambled state he felt a sense of relief and was surprised by the intensity of the voice behind the door.
“Everyone in the office, slowly come out with your hands up. One at a Time. I’m a cop, I have my weapon drawn, and a riot shield. I know how to use them and If I think I see a gun or fast movement, I’ll blow a hole through you and the wall behind you.”
Kyle obediently dropped the phone and lifted his hands up, Randall on the other hand seemed as if he would have an aneurysm at any moment, teeth gritted. “What the fuck type a’ cop threatens to blast a hole though innocent citizens?” Randall shouted back. “Motherfuckers breaking into my store. Threatenin’ to shoot me?” Kyle was beside him in an instant, shaking his head. Pleading with his eyes.
“We are totally coming out. And completely unarmed!” Kyle said. But god it sounded forced. Maybe suspicious even. “I-I’m opening the door. Please don’t shoot me!” Kyle tried again. Reaching for the knob, searching with his entire being for any sense this would put him six feet under. It never came. In fact the sense of dread had lifted to such a degree that he could almost breathe. That Cherry lady had slinked off his radar for the most part. It made the boy want to fling the door open wide and leap into the arms of precieved safety.
As if on instinct, Kyle placed himself in the line of sight of Randall and the battered woman. Attempting a smile. “Good morning, Sir. Officer.” Kyle swallowed and tried the word again. “Officer.” But it didn’t feel quite like the correct title. And there was something off about the guy. Not necessarily in a bad way, just odd. Like the man before him was hiding something.
“You know trespassing is a crime.” Randall spoke from behind Kyle. “Copper or not. You need a warrant to be in my shop if you are tryin’ to dig around here.” The store owner had also taken up a sort of stance before the woman, just as Kyle had done. “Let me see some kind of badge.”
One. Two. Three. The bloody rags were piling up. Lord, she was still bleeding and the light, tentative shake Kyle had given the woman did not wake her. Briefly, in a moment of weakness the boy tucks his head in his hands, ignoring the aching in his body. Taking the slightest of seconds to breathe. The pursuit was still on, and he could sense the ‘thing’ very nearby and approaching– a predator locked onto his location. Sniffing him out, far too close for comfort. Like a deer in the headlights he was frozen, hands shaking, breath coming out in puffs.
Kyle had always been good at navigating his location and seemingly the location of others. Always knowing when someone was approaching and what their intentions were. It worked great for the jobs he liked to do. Deliveries and transportation. But at this moment he wished he did not know. Wished desperately this feeling would go away. That the pinging on an invisible map would blot out and relieve him of the adrenaline and hyper awareness of every muscle in his body. Primed to spring forward and find yet another escape.
As it drew near, the tension built in his body. Near leaping out of his skin at the bang against the door. It’s here.
It greeted him rather casually through the metal, introducing itself. Cherry. What a pretty name. The voice was raspy and worn like he had never heard anything before. The image of its bloody body flashing across his vision sent him into overdrive.
It’s demon is a bitch. They could kill me. They do in fact want the girl. And they can teleport??
Kyle felt faint. So this wasn’t an angle but a harbinger of doom. A spark of pride welled in him. He had been right about this feeling all these years. Right about running. Right about the inherent danger. If it could teleport, why exactly was it blocked by a door? Why wouldn’t the thing just magically poof into the room? Or portal or whatever the hell it could do. The teen wouldn’t trust it for a second. And he doesn’t trust the promise of a deal. Spine feeling as if it would wiggle itself from his body and escape first if he did not act quickly.
There is some deft fumbling on Kyle’s part as he attempts to sling one of the girl's arms over his shoulder to lift her from the ground, but an unconscious body was difficult to move without all the momentum he had been utilizing.
“God damn it.” Kyle jolted, whipping around to see the source of the voice. Shocked that he had not noticed anyone coming down the steps from the dining area. “I knew you were going to be trouble.” Randall in all his middle aged, pissed off glory was approaching quickly. The thick graying brows near jumping off his face at the battered woman Kyle was attempting to hold up.
“You behind the door. Stay thy hand and open not the portal. On your soul the beast will devour you if thy passage is opened.”
Kyle looked between Saucy’s owner and the door, shooting the man a weak worried smile. “Wasn't planning on it!” The teen shouts back.
Randall, as if sensing the waves of tension rolling off his new employee, slipped a shoulder under the woman's other arm, practically lifting her off the ground with the height difference. The man led the two up the stairs into the dining area. Kyle was washed with a wave of relief. Happy to let the man half drag the girl up the narrow steps. Taking in the checkered floors and the drawn blinds.
“Start talkin’ kid.” Randall muttered. Lip lifted in an almost animalistic display. As if his agitation would spill over at any second.
“I found her like this, some-” Kyle hesitates. “Some dude had roughed her up pretty bad in an alleyway.”
“You are so lucky I haven’t opened shop, else I woulda tossed you out that back door to whoever was on the other side.” There is a scolding, almost fatherly way Randal was eyeing him. Pointing a thick callused finger at him. “Hurry up. I’m not letting my dough overproof because you went and brought a battered housewife to the shop.”
The two men make quick work of getting the girl into the back office, past the kitchen and bathrooms into the back. The Owner of Saucy’s grimacing when they set her in his worn leather chair. Randal is still muttering as he looks the girl over, finding her pulse, tapping her face lightly with the back of his hand.
“Lucky.” He’s spitting under his breath. “Lucky kid. I’m too damn soft. Lucky you’re officially hired. Should have ya both escorted off my property and charged with trespassin’.”
Kyle is the visage of a nervous kicked puppy with his head slightly lowered. Nodding quietly. Watching intently as Randal works, eyes flicking to the door every few moments. Fingers twitching, foot tapping.
“You think she ODed?” Randall asked. Taking her arm and inspecting it, noting the bruising in the crook of her elbow.
“Shit, I hope not.” Kyle says, suddenly studying her arm too.
“Whelp, can’t for the life of me-” Randall is popping the lid off a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Understand why ya brought her here. But if her waking up gets ya both out of my shop that’s good enough for me.”
The scent of the alcohol pulls a rush of heat to the teens ears. Overwhelmed with the strength of it. Plugging his nose. And Randall is waving the bottle under the girl's nose, tapping her face again.
“Come on hun, wake up.” Randall calls almost softly.
Kyle had always been good at navigating his location and seemingly the location of others. Always knowing when someone was approaching and what their intentions were. It worked great for the jobs he liked to do. Deliveries and transportation. But at this moment he wished he did not know. Wished desperately this feeling would go away. That the pinging on an invisible map would blot out and relieve him of the adrenaline and hyper awareness of every muscle in his body. Primed to spring forward and find yet another escape.
As it drew near, the tension built in his body. Near leaping out of his skin at the bang against the door. It’s here.
It greeted him rather casually through the metal, introducing itself. Cherry. What a pretty name. The voice was raspy and worn like he had never heard anything before. The image of its bloody body flashing across his vision sent him into overdrive.
It’s demon is a bitch. They could kill me. They do in fact want the girl. And they can teleport??
Kyle felt faint. So this wasn’t an angle but a harbinger of doom. A spark of pride welled in him. He had been right about this feeling all these years. Right about running. Right about the inherent danger. If it could teleport, why exactly was it blocked by a door? Why wouldn’t the thing just magically poof into the room? Or portal or whatever the hell it could do. The teen wouldn’t trust it for a second. And he doesn’t trust the promise of a deal. Spine feeling as if it would wiggle itself from his body and escape first if he did not act quickly.
There is some deft fumbling on Kyle’s part as he attempts to sling one of the girl's arms over his shoulder to lift her from the ground, but an unconscious body was difficult to move without all the momentum he had been utilizing.
“God damn it.” Kyle jolted, whipping around to see the source of the voice. Shocked that he had not noticed anyone coming down the steps from the dining area. “I knew you were going to be trouble.” Randall in all his middle aged, pissed off glory was approaching quickly. The thick graying brows near jumping off his face at the battered woman Kyle was attempting to hold up.
“You behind the door. Stay thy hand and open not the portal. On your soul the beast will devour you if thy passage is opened.”
Kyle looked between Saucy’s owner and the door, shooting the man a weak worried smile. “Wasn't planning on it!” The teen shouts back.
Randall, as if sensing the waves of tension rolling off his new employee, slipped a shoulder under the woman's other arm, practically lifting her off the ground with the height difference. The man led the two up the stairs into the dining area. Kyle was washed with a wave of relief. Happy to let the man half drag the girl up the narrow steps. Taking in the checkered floors and the drawn blinds.
“Start talkin’ kid.” Randall muttered. Lip lifted in an almost animalistic display. As if his agitation would spill over at any second.
“I found her like this, some-” Kyle hesitates. “Some dude had roughed her up pretty bad in an alleyway.”
“You are so lucky I haven’t opened shop, else I woulda tossed you out that back door to whoever was on the other side.” There is a scolding, almost fatherly way Randal was eyeing him. Pointing a thick callused finger at him. “Hurry up. I’m not letting my dough overproof because you went and brought a battered housewife to the shop.”
The two men make quick work of getting the girl into the back office, past the kitchen and bathrooms into the back. The Owner of Saucy’s grimacing when they set her in his worn leather chair. Randal is still muttering as he looks the girl over, finding her pulse, tapping her face lightly with the back of his hand.
“Lucky.” He’s spitting under his breath. “Lucky kid. I’m too damn soft. Lucky you’re officially hired. Should have ya both escorted off my property and charged with trespassin’.”
Kyle is the visage of a nervous kicked puppy with his head slightly lowered. Nodding quietly. Watching intently as Randal works, eyes flicking to the door every few moments. Fingers twitching, foot tapping.
“You think she ODed?” Randall asked. Taking her arm and inspecting it, noting the bruising in the crook of her elbow.
“Shit, I hope not.” Kyle says, suddenly studying her arm too.
“Whelp, can’t for the life of me-” Randall is popping the lid off a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Understand why ya brought her here. But if her waking up gets ya both out of my shop that’s good enough for me.”
The scent of the alcohol pulls a rush of heat to the teens ears. Overwhelmed with the strength of it. Plugging his nose. And Randall is waving the bottle under the girl's nose, tapping her face again.
“Come on hun, wake up.” Randall calls almost softly.
Started a new med so i was passed out yesterday lol sorry bout that! I'll get on a reply
@sandstorm I loved the bit about casserole in your most recent post! Great characterization.
Thank you! Your creepy little horror scurrying around is quite lovely
Something on the horizon let’s Kyle know he is fucked. Sensing the approach to his vehicle. Catching the stray blurr of gore in the side mirror before it happens. His location is struck by some sort of static, the hair on his body stands at full attention, prickling under the worst pressure he’s ever had the displeasure of encountering. It swept him up, an inescapable illness in him, rewiring his brain in an instant. The explosive shattering of his precious vehicle window folds him, nearly retching in the face of something he can’t quite wrap his mind around.
One glance starts up a pretty horrified, high pitched scream. The mutilated body in the back opened its mouth and uttered some not so soothing things to him. Be not afraid. The years of bible study struck Kyle like a truck. Was this an angel? Had he been running from the feeling of Angels all his life? Biblically accurate Angels were horrifying he had heard. And the others. Wielding the wind. Encountering the creature– Woman– Thing, as if this were a normal Tuesday for them. A common occurrence. All of them seemed to have some sort of weapon on them.
“What the fuck! Oh my God, what the fuck!” Kyle’s words nearly blur together in the speed he shouts them. “I am afraid!” He blurts. And against better judgment, under the pressure of this hulking fear he cranks the engine again. This time he’s aware it won’t light back to life. The air around him stills. In the breadth of a millisecond, in the twitch of an eye, he knows where to go. Calculates his chances of making it out alive. Senses where the danger lies ahead of him.
A second passes, slowly sucking air in through his nose.
Kyle thrusts his left fist through the window, scooping up glass and hurling it into the eyes of the eldritch horror in his back seat. His right hand gripping the unconscious girl's arm in tandem. Then it’s as simple as a light jerk of the passenger door handle. Rolling them onto the asphalt before the blinding LED headlights of a black SUV. The mechanical grinding and squeal of tires is a symphony of freedom. Rolling them with the momentum till the woman is draped across his shoulders yet again. A human scarf of sorts. Rising and darting as the SUV screeches to a halt beside Cocopuff. Using the vehicle as cover to dip into another alleyway.
Kyle is silently thanking the SUV. Thanking god for letting him slip through the cracks once again. Panting with the exertion of it all. The wind cannot cool his heated skin, cannot slow him in the slightest. Bolting towards 7th. If he could make it to seventh he could make it to people. Make it to help.
And he desperately needed help. The skin of his arm burned where he had run it through the glass, shoulders roughed up from the unforgiving road and the added weight.
Kyle really could not afford to be caught now. Not ever. He had been running from this feeling so long it would be a disservice to his being to fail. And his Ma, she would be so sad if he didn’t make it back for Christmas. Even if she disapproved of him dropping out of college, she still missed him. And he missed the sweet potato casserole she was so damned good at whipping up.
He could not die here. For casserole and for himself.
And for the young woman Kyle slung across his body. Despite the uncomfortable emotional burden she was leaking into his back, he could tell she was good, somewhere buried deep. Could tell that there was something inexplicably important about her. There was no way to justify picking her up besides a gut feeling. All he needed to do was get her to safety. But where? It was possible that thing would just waltz into a hospital. The probability felt high, unsure of how powerful it was. Assuming it could wipe out a hospital if it could run around with its guts leaking out.
Perhaps the others he sensed as well meaning could help. Or would they try to kill him too. The violent throbbing of his pulse made it all so hard to decipher. His body is screaming at him to avoid it. Whatever this was. And so he headed to 7th, darting across the slowly filling street. Earning his fair share of honks and horrified looks. Making his way at max speed to a little place called Saucy’s. Nearly throwing himself down an all to claustrophobic cracked staircase, into the hidden door of the basement below. Clicking the lock into place behind him.
It was empty of life besides him and his human backpack. Kyle set about situating the seemingly unwell woman against a concrete wall. She was in bad shape. Bruised. Bleeding. The teen swallowed thickly, attempting to find a pulse and frustratedly realizing he hadn’t a clue how to do that. She was breathing though.
Water. Water. Water.
The old basin down here did in fact work, snagging a cloth off the stack and wetting it. This was for all intents and purposes, a slightly disorganized storage room. Parker shouldn’t have shown him this place. Kyle could tell it was relatively safe. The scent of fresh pizza dough was already making its way down into the basement and it would only be a matter of time before one of his future coworkers would manage their way down the old wood step to see the mess of blood the two of them were leaving.
The teen couldn’t find a way to care, slipping to his raw knees to press the cloth gently to the woman’s cheek. Wiping up the blood there. Grimacing at the thought of how much pain the poor thing was probably in.
One glance starts up a pretty horrified, high pitched scream. The mutilated body in the back opened its mouth and uttered some not so soothing things to him. Be not afraid. The years of bible study struck Kyle like a truck. Was this an angel? Had he been running from the feeling of Angels all his life? Biblically accurate Angels were horrifying he had heard. And the others. Wielding the wind. Encountering the creature– Woman– Thing, as if this were a normal Tuesday for them. A common occurrence. All of them seemed to have some sort of weapon on them.
“What the fuck! Oh my God, what the fuck!” Kyle’s words nearly blur together in the speed he shouts them. “I am afraid!” He blurts. And against better judgment, under the pressure of this hulking fear he cranks the engine again. This time he’s aware it won’t light back to life. The air around him stills. In the breadth of a millisecond, in the twitch of an eye, he knows where to go. Calculates his chances of making it out alive. Senses where the danger lies ahead of him.
A second passes, slowly sucking air in through his nose.
Kyle thrusts his left fist through the window, scooping up glass and hurling it into the eyes of the eldritch horror in his back seat. His right hand gripping the unconscious girl's arm in tandem. Then it’s as simple as a light jerk of the passenger door handle. Rolling them onto the asphalt before the blinding LED headlights of a black SUV. The mechanical grinding and squeal of tires is a symphony of freedom. Rolling them with the momentum till the woman is draped across his shoulders yet again. A human scarf of sorts. Rising and darting as the SUV screeches to a halt beside Cocopuff. Using the vehicle as cover to dip into another alleyway.
Kyle is silently thanking the SUV. Thanking god for letting him slip through the cracks once again. Panting with the exertion of it all. The wind cannot cool his heated skin, cannot slow him in the slightest. Bolting towards 7th. If he could make it to seventh he could make it to people. Make it to help.
And he desperately needed help. The skin of his arm burned where he had run it through the glass, shoulders roughed up from the unforgiving road and the added weight.
Kyle really could not afford to be caught now. Not ever. He had been running from this feeling so long it would be a disservice to his being to fail. And his Ma, she would be so sad if he didn’t make it back for Christmas. Even if she disapproved of him dropping out of college, she still missed him. And he missed the sweet potato casserole she was so damned good at whipping up.
He could not die here. For casserole and for himself.
And for the young woman Kyle slung across his body. Despite the uncomfortable emotional burden she was leaking into his back, he could tell she was good, somewhere buried deep. Could tell that there was something inexplicably important about her. There was no way to justify picking her up besides a gut feeling. All he needed to do was get her to safety. But where? It was possible that thing would just waltz into a hospital. The probability felt high, unsure of how powerful it was. Assuming it could wipe out a hospital if it could run around with its guts leaking out.
Perhaps the others he sensed as well meaning could help. Or would they try to kill him too. The violent throbbing of his pulse made it all so hard to decipher. His body is screaming at him to avoid it. Whatever this was. And so he headed to 7th, darting across the slowly filling street. Earning his fair share of honks and horrified looks. Making his way at max speed to a little place called Saucy’s. Nearly throwing himself down an all to claustrophobic cracked staircase, into the hidden door of the basement below. Clicking the lock into place behind him.
It was empty of life besides him and his human backpack. Kyle set about situating the seemingly unwell woman against a concrete wall. She was in bad shape. Bruised. Bleeding. The teen swallowed thickly, attempting to find a pulse and frustratedly realizing he hadn’t a clue how to do that. She was breathing though.
Water. Water. Water.
The old basin down here did in fact work, snagging a cloth off the stack and wetting it. This was for all intents and purposes, a slightly disorganized storage room. Parker shouldn’t have shown him this place. Kyle could tell it was relatively safe. The scent of fresh pizza dough was already making its way down into the basement and it would only be a matter of time before one of his future coworkers would manage their way down the old wood step to see the mess of blood the two of them were leaving.
The teen couldn’t find a way to care, slipping to his raw knees to press the cloth gently to the woman’s cheek. Wiping up the blood there. Grimacing at the thought of how much pain the poor thing was probably in.
I'd do something but I'm shoved in a trunk.... or a car seat and unconscious... someone kick the demons ass and get me to a psych ward... or at least a hospital before the crazy voices in my head make me kill a puppy for the shit heroin gives me an embolism. 😇
lol don't worry, your character is in... good hands?
:,) I'm on a short break from work lmao
You absolutely have been snatched unfortunately.
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