ChronicleMan — Roleplayer Guild

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1. ChronicleMan 2 yrs ago
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Status

Recent Statuses

27 days ago

Current I haven’t roleplayed since almost a year, since I’ve been busy but I’m gonna hopefully get back into it!

8 likes

27 days ago

“I'm Sergeant Major Rick Grimes. You probably think I'm dead.” -Rick Grimes

3 likes

3 mos ago

"i SAW what you did there."-Chuck Greene

3 mos ago

"PC load letter? The fuck does that mean"-Michael Bolton

2 likes

4 mos ago

I now own a musket since that's what the founding fathers intended.

3 likes

Bio

Name:Matt 
Gender:Dude
Age:30
Birthday: October 17th 1995
Alias: MP, Chronic,
Occupation:Police officer
What i like: Comedy, Horror, Drama, Sci-fi, Cosplay, Gaming,
What i dislike: 1x1s, Retconning, Pedophiles.

The Black Veil July 15, 1947  B-29 Superfortress near Berlin

The B-29 Superfortress took to the skies just after midnight, a weary beast droning over the darkened outskirts of Berlin. The six-man crew was bone-tired but still sharp enough to know this flight was supposed to be routine — reconnaissance and nothing more. Yet, something was off.

The cockpit lights cast long shadows as Captain Reynolds gripped the controls, squinting through the frost that slowly crept across the windows.

Lieutenant Harper sat nearby, fiddling with the radio, frustration clear in his movements.

"All I’m getting is static... and maybe the ghost of a bad broadcast,"he said dryly.

"You got a ghost problem, Captain?"

Reynolds shot him a look.

"Don’t invite trouble, Harper. This plane’s already creaking like it’s on its last legs."

Sergeant Mills snorted, tapping the compass.

"This compass is spazzing out worse than a rookie on his first flight. Spinning like it’s got worms," he grumbled.

"Worms? You been eating those rations again?" Daniels, the youngest crewmember, cracked a nervous smile.

Mills scowled.

"Kid, if those rations were poison, I wouldn’t still be here."

The frost thickened, veins of ice spiderwebbing across the glass, creeping closer as the heaters struggled against the cold.

"Anyone else feeling like we’re headed straight to the North Pole?" Daniels asked, rubbing his arms.

"Shut it, Daniels. Cold’s better than whatever’s coming," Harper snapped, his eyes fixed on the flickering radio.

Suddenly, the radio hissed and spat static — then faint whispers, low murmurs that sent a chill deeper than the frost ever could.

"Did you hear that?" Daniels whispered.

"Yeah," Mills muttered, "sounds like my mother-in-law complaining about the war."

Reynolds gave a dry chuckle.

"Alright, funny guy. Focus up, we’re almost over the target zone."

The plane shuddered suddenly. Instruments flickered and dimmed.

"Now the compass thinks it’s a roulette wheel," Harper said, fiddling desperately with switches.

Engines sputtered.

"Number three’s coughing up a lung," he reported.

The plane lurched violently.

"Hold her steady!" Reynolds barked, wrestling with the controls.

From the dark hallway behind the cockpit, a faint sound of footsteps echoed — slow and deliberate, but with no one there.

"Who’s there?" Mills demanded, swinging a flashlight down the corridor.

Silence.

"Just your imagination," Reynolds said, though his voice was tight.

"Maybe," Daniels whispered, eyes wide.

Then, with a sickening groan, the cargo bay doors began sliding open.

"Cargo doors? In flight? What the hell?" Reynolds yelled.

"They won’t close," Harper shouted back, panic creeping in.

A blast of icy air swept through the plane, freezing everything it touched.

"Perfect. Just what we needed — a flying haunted house," Mills said dryly.

The radio erupted again, this time with distorted laughter and cries intertwined with static.

Reynolds slammed his fist on the console.

"Cut it off!"

Harper tried, but the controls were frozen.

The plane pitched downward, instruments dying one by one.

"Brace for impact!" Reynolds roared.

Trees rushed up in a blur.

The crash was violent.

Metal twisted, glass shattered.

Silence followed, thick and heavy.

The B-29 lay broken in a cold, silent forest miles from Berlin.

Inside, frost still clung to the wreckage.

The crew — vanished.

And somewhere, carried on the wind, faint laughter echoed.

Most Recent Posts

In Word association Game! → 11 mos ago Forum: Spam Forum

Videogame

In The Black Veil → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

I guess we'll make a pm group chat then.

In Just some guy → 11 mos ago Forum: Introduce Yourself

In SCP Foundation: Site 872 → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Anyway imma have to drop out of the rp, sorry guys. hope this rp goes far.

In SCP Foundation: Site 872 → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Cat22

Name:  SCP-24601

Age: 200

Species: Old One

Origin Location: OC

Occupation:  SCP/Live Streamer/ Content Creator

Weapons: None

Abilities: SCP-24601 possesses the ability to communicate telepathically with other beings. Being able to speak to someone many miles away. SCP-24601 is also capable of communicating via dreams. Choosing various visages so mortals could comprehend his presence.  He is also able to read minds, learning about his target’s past and their thoughts. 

SCP-24601 can regenerate lost limbs or wounds at an exponential rate. Being able to sustain various injuries that would usually kill other beings. 

SCP-24601 also possesses the ability to shapeshift into various forms, including humans, animals, plants, and even objects. 

SCP-24601 can also fly, breathe underwater, and be fluent in many languages, including some extinct languages. It possesses vast knowledge of black magic and the occult. 

SCP-24601's primary anomaly is the ability to induce madness in those it interacts with. The start of induced madness starts if someone has had long-term exposure to SCP-24601. His sphere of influence extends to those around the world. However, this effect is unintentional and causes SCP-24601 great distress. This effect of madness affects living beings but not those with high mental fortitude. Random cults have emerged, seeking to worship SCP-24601. With some planning and trying to break into the SCP Foundation to free SCP-24601. With them performing debaucherous rituals that greatly distress SCP-24601.   

Personality:

SCP-24601 is a laid-back god, more concerned about which video game he will play or which book he will read. He doesn’t care about creating a cult or trying to take over the world. Nor does he care about the other gods trying to contact him to try and convince him to help them with their schemes.  SCP-24601 is a jovial and optimistic person who always finds the bright side of life. As well as being quite kind and empathic to everyone he meets. SCP-24601 displays extreme distrust and discomfort whenever he interacts with his cult members.  

However, SCP-24601 can occasionally behave like a typical teenager. Being rude, aloof, and quite moody. 

Appearance: 

Backstory: SCP-24601 was born in the early 19th century in Providence, Rhode Island. His father, who is an ancient and evil God, mated with a female cultist. SCP-24601 lived with the female cultist, her father and his half-brother, who was born to a different mother. His maternal grandfather taught him dark and evil magic. SCP-24601 was taught many things, and a few years later, his half-brother, grandfather, and mother were killed by a professor investigating disappearances in which they were involved. 

SCP-24601 then spent the next couple of decades exploring the world, learning about various subjects. As well as watching the world and humans growing and innovating. For a time, living underground in Egypt, China, South America, and Africa. However, the effects of his anomalous abilities were affecting those he hung around with. Learning that the humans he was in constant encounter with would turn into gibbering madmen.  Losing friends and his life, his life turned for the worse as his father and other evil gods tried to contact him.  Trying to convince him to create a cult and summon a portal, so that his father could conquer Earth. 

However, SCP-24601 showed no interest in him and escaped for many years, eventually settling in Antarctica.  Living with some penguins that soon become large albino monstrosities. The SCP-Foundation discovered SCP-24601 following an incident involving a group of Norwegian and American researchers. Causing most of their deaths, except for one man who seemed immune to SCP-24601’s maddening effects.  The two lived together for a time before being found by the Foundation. The man returned to civilization, while SCP-24601 accompanied them willingly. 

The foundation has made SCP-24601 a Euclid entity because of the cults and those that want to break SCP-24601 out. 

Extra info: N/A

Please let me know if this character would be a good fit for the RP, and if not then i will make another character.@Eviledd1984

this is just magnificent

In I exist now. → 11 mos ago Forum: Introduce Yourself

Welcome to RPG GlassShard.

In SCP Foundation: Site 872 → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Cat22

Is my oc accepted?

In The Black Veil → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Caz Raffs 

Gender: Male
Age:29
Nationality: Irish American
Appearance:  

Personal Effects: He always carries a large hospital corps pouch. It has a long strap that goes over his shoulder, so it rests on his hip. In it are various things relating to treating wounds, such as burns, shrapnel, and the etc. A large metal water canteen that sits on his opposite hip.

Background:

What is your job?
Caz is a member of the American forces' medic unit. He treats the wounded soldiers and when he's given free time he goes out with other like-minded medics and offers aid to the war-torn Berlin.

Backstory: Caz originally came over to America from Ireland for a better life when he was a child with his parents. What better way to repay his new home than enlisting? Being something of a gentle soul he took on the role of Medic to help others. It grieves him to see the state of Berlin but he tells himself that the Nazi's had to go.@Tally Dor

Accepted

In The 100 → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@ChronicleMan Actually it's your turn LMAO@HyliaIncarnate

K i'll post either tonight or tmr.

Name:Matt Gender:Dude Age:30 Birthday: October 17th 1995 Alias: MP, Chronic, Occupation:Police officer What i like: Comedy, Horror, Drama, Sci-fi, Cosplay, Gaming, What i dislike: 1x1s, Retconning, Pedophiles. [hider=writing sample][h1][color=Maroon]The Black Veil July 15, 1947 B-29 Superfortress near Berlin[/color][/h1] [b]The B-29 Superfortress took to the skies just after midnight, a weary beast droning over the darkened outskirts of Berlin. The six-man crew was bone-tired but still sharp enough to know this flight was supposed to be routine — reconnaissance and nothing more. Yet, something was off.[/b] The cockpit lights cast long shadows as Captain Reynolds gripped the controls, squinting through the frost that slowly crept across the windows. Lieutenant Harper sat nearby, fiddling with the radio, frustration clear in his movements. [b][color=darkRed][quote]"All I’m getting is static... and maybe the ghost of a bad broadcast,"[/quote][/color][/b]he said dryly. [color=darkRed][b]"You got a ghost problem, Captain?"[/b][/color] Reynolds shot him a look. [i]"Don’t invite trouble, Harper. This plane’s already creaking like it’s on its last legs."[/i] Sergeant Mills snorted, tapping the compass. [color=darkred][b]"This compass is spazzing out worse than a rookie on his first flight. Spinning like it’s got worms,"[/b][/color] he grumbled. [color=darkred][i]"Worms? You been eating those rations again?"[/i][/color] Daniels, the youngest crewmember, cracked a nervous smile. Mills scowled. [i]"Kid, if those rations were poison, I wouldn’t still be here."[/i] The frost thickened, veins of ice spiderwebbing across the glass, creeping closer as the heaters struggled against the cold. [color=darkred][quote]"Anyone else feeling like we’re headed straight to the North Pole?"[/quote][/color] Daniels asked, rubbing his arms. [color=darkred][i]"Shut it, Daniels. Cold’s better than whatever’s coming,"[/i][/color] Harper snapped, his eyes fixed on the flickering radio. Suddenly, the radio hissed and spat static — then faint whispers, low murmurs that sent a chill deeper than the frost ever could. [color=darkred][b]"Did you hear that?"[/b][/color] Daniels whispered. [i]"Yeah,"[/i] Mills muttered, [i]"sounds like my mother-in-law complaining about the war."[/i] Reynolds gave a dry chuckle. [i]"Alright, funny guy. Focus up, we’re almost over the target zone."[/i] The plane shuddered suddenly. Instruments flickered and dimmed. [color=darkRed][b]"Now the compass thinks it’s a roulette wheel,"[/b][/color] Harper said, fiddling desperately with switches. Engines sputtered. [color=darkred][i]"Number three’s coughing up a lung,"[/i][/color] he reported. The plane lurched violently. [i]"Hold her steady!"[/i] Reynolds barked, wrestling with the controls. From the dark hallway behind the cockpit, a faint sound of footsteps echoed — slow and deliberate, but with no one there. [color=darkred][b]"Who’s there?"[/b][/color] Mills demanded, swinging a flashlight down the corridor. Silence. [i]"Just your imagination,"[/i] Reynolds said, though his voice was tight. [i]"Maybe,"[/i] Daniels whispered, eyes wide. Then, with a sickening groan, the cargo bay doors began sliding open. [color=darkred][b]"Cargo doors? In flight? What the hell?"[/b][/color] Reynolds yelled. [color=darkred][i]"They won’t close,"[/i][/color] Harper shouted back, panic creeping in. A blast of icy air swept through the plane, freezing everything it touched. [color=darkred][quote]"Perfect. Just what we needed — a flying haunted house,"[/quote][/color] Mills said dryly. The radio erupted again, this time with distorted laughter and cries intertwined with static. Reynolds slammed his fist on the console. [i]"Cut it off!"[/i] Harper tried, but the controls were frozen. The plane pitched downward, instruments dying one by one. [i]"Brace for impact!"[/i] Reynolds roared. Trees rushed up in a blur. The crash was violent. Metal twisted, glass shattered. Silence followed, thick and heavy. The B-29 lay broken in a cold, silent forest miles from Berlin. Inside, frost still clung to the wreckage. The crew — vanished. And somewhere, carried on the wind, faint laughter echoed. [/hider]

<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Name:Matt Gender:Dude Age:30 Birthday: October 17th 1995 Alias: MP, Chronic, Occupation:Police officer What i like: Comedy, Horror, Drama, Sci-fi, Cosplay, Gaming, What i dislike: 1x1s, Retconning, Pedophiles. <div class="hider-panel"><div class="hider-heading"><button type="button" class="btn btn-default btn-xs hider-button" data-name="writing sample">writing sample [+]</button></div><div class="hider-body" style="display: none"><div class="bb-h1">The Black Veil July 15, 1947 B-29 Superfortress near Berlin</div> The B-29 Superfortress took to the skies just after midnight, a weary beast droning over the darkened outskirts of Berlin. The six-man crew was bone-tired but still sharp enough to know this flight was supposed to be routine — reconnaissance and nothing more. Yet, something was off. The cockpit lights cast long shadows as Captain Reynolds gripped the controls, squinting through the frost that slowly crept across the windows. Lieutenant Harper sat nearby, fiddling with the radio, frustration clear in his movements. <blockquote class="bb-quote">"All I’m getting is static... and maybe the ghost of a bad broadcast,"</blockquote>he said dryly. "You got a ghost problem, Captain?" Reynolds shot him a look. "Don’t invite trouble, Harper. This plane’s already creaking like it’s on its last legs." Sergeant Mills snorted, tapping the compass. "This compass is spazzing out worse than a rookie on his first flight. Spinning like it’s got worms," he grumbled. "Worms? You been eating those rations again?" Daniels, the youngest crewmember, cracked a nervous smile. Mills scowled. "Kid, if those rations were poison, I wouldn’t still be here." The frost thickened, veins of ice spiderwebbing across the glass, creeping closer as the heaters struggled against the cold. <blockquote class="bb-quote">"Anyone else feeling like we’re headed straight to the North Pole?"</blockquote> Daniels asked, rubbing his arms. "Shut it, Daniels. Cold’s better than whatever’s coming," Harper snapped, his eyes fixed on the flickering radio. Suddenly, the radio hissed and spat static — then faint whispers, low murmurs that sent a chill deeper than the frost ever could. "Did you hear that?" Daniels whispered. "Yeah," Mills muttered, "sounds like my mother-in-law complaining about the war." Reynolds gave a dry chuckle. "Alright, funny guy. Focus up, we’re almost over the target zone." The plane shuddered suddenly. Instruments flickered and dimmed. "Now the compass thinks it’s a roulette wheel," Harper said, fiddling desperately with switches. Engines sputtered. "Number three’s coughing up a lung," he reported. The plane lurched violently. "Hold her steady!" Reynolds barked, wrestling with the controls. From the dark hallway behind the cockpit, a faint sound of footsteps echoed — slow and deliberate, but with no one there. "Who’s there?" Mills demanded, swinging a flashlight down the corridor. Silence. "Just your imagination," Reynolds said, though his voice was tight. "Maybe," Daniels whispered, eyes wide. Then, with a sickening groan, the cargo bay doors began sliding open. "Cargo doors? In flight? What the hell?" Reynolds yelled. "They won’t close," Harper shouted back, panic creeping in. A blast of icy air swept through the plane, freezing everything it touched. <blockquote class="bb-quote">"Perfect. Just what we needed — a flying haunted house,"</blockquote> Mills said dryly. The radio erupted again, this time with distorted laughter and cries intertwined with static. Reynolds slammed his fist on the console. "Cut it off!" Harper tried, but the controls were frozen. The plane pitched downward, instruments dying one by one. "Brace for impact!" Reynolds roared. Trees rushed up in a blur. The crash was violent. Metal twisted, glass shattered. Silence followed, thick and heavy. The B-29 lay broken in a cold, silent forest miles from Berlin. Inside, frost still clung to the wreckage. The crew — vanished. And somewhere, carried on the wind, faint laughter echoed.</div></div> </div>

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The Man The Myth The Legend

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