Member
Sorry folks, I accidentally made a duplicate post in the IC thread. I'll be more careful in the future.
- Last Seen: 1 yr ago
- Joined: 6 yrs ago
- Posts: 20 (0.01 / day)
- VMs: 1
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Username history
- grandophicleide 6 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
Glad to be here!
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likes
Bio
Heyo folks!
I'm a(n):
* 24-year-old American
* engineering grad student
* aspiring organbuilder
I'm hoping to get involved in:
* sci-fi/cyberpunk
* high fantasy
* maybe slice of life? never tried it before.
I'm a(n):
* 24-year-old American
* engineering grad student
* aspiring organbuilder
I'm hoping to get involved in:
* sci-fi/cyberpunk
* high fantasy
* maybe slice of life? never tried it before.
Most Recent Posts
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When the buzzer went off, Rob held himself very still for a few moments. The pain in his lower back was always the worst right after waking up, but years of experience had taught him that so long as he didn't move, he could enjoy a few minutes of respite from that old companion. Old habits refused to let him go back to sleep, however, and before too long he rolled out of bed in a long-practiced manner, cautious of the rumbling threats of his lumbar vertebrae. Laying his blanket on the floor, he gingerly started his usual series of morning stretches.
The physical therapist who'd taught him the sequence had also stressed the importance of meditation and mental relaxation during the exercise, which he sometimes attempted. On this morning, however, anticipation preoccupied him. From the age of fourteen he'd spent his entire life working: respectable labor of the back and the hands, of which he'd always been extremely proud. The previous three years of perfect idle nothingness had induced a profound, black desperation, such that he'd jumped at the chance for a work assignment baldly billed as being "extremely dangerous". The promise of any new experience after such existential monotony and uselessness was so intoxicating that the vague assurances of danger were a faint, unconvincing echo to his overwhelming desire to do something productive again. Today was The Day.
The soft, sleepy rumble of Block C was broken eventually by the rolling cattle-call, which spread slowly up and down the corridors. Rob stuck his head under the sink tap, wrung out his shoulder-length hair, and groomed his mustache as best he could without a comb. He changed from his pajamas into a daily work uniform, and soon his door opened: "D-77732, it's time to eat. Follow me." How personal, he thought, that the guards call us to breakfast individually. He cautiously counted it as a positive sign. He smiled at the guard in response, but received no indication of any reaction through the helmet.
The canteen food was surprisingly adequate. He'd developed a bit of a taste for powdered eggs over his years of incarceration, and they'd never once had bacon at Menard Correctional Facility, from which he'd been transferred. He thought for a moment, and added the bacon to the list of positive things about this decision. Even if he wound up shoveling toxic waste today, at least he'd had some decent food.
The atmosphere in the canteen was surprisingly lively. Three years ago, he'd learned the hard way that "lively" and "friendly" are very different things in prison, so he spent breakfast trying to read the room and learn some personalities. The dominant conversation was a loud, spirited debate began over whether undercover cops have to admit to being cops when asked. He couldn't help but smile at the earnestness of the large, bald man (Ryan), and watched with amusement as Ryan attempted to draft a random bystander into supporting his claims. It reminded him of the banter in his old shop, bringing up memories that made his chest go tight. He thought about joining in, but that was sentiment's influence. Instead, he kept his eye on the younger man who had been drawn into the odd conversation.
---------
[heaviside]: god only knows
[heaviside]: sooner than usual, isn't it? wonder if their attrition rates have been higher than usual lately
[heaviside]: can't be anything good
[heaviside]: but then, when is it ever anything good?
The physical therapist who'd taught him the sequence had also stressed the importance of meditation and mental relaxation during the exercise, which he sometimes attempted. On this morning, however, anticipation preoccupied him. From the age of fourteen he'd spent his entire life working: respectable labor of the back and the hands, of which he'd always been extremely proud. The previous three years of perfect idle nothingness had induced a profound, black desperation, such that he'd jumped at the chance for a work assignment baldly billed as being "extremely dangerous". The promise of any new experience after such existential monotony and uselessness was so intoxicating that the vague assurances of danger were a faint, unconvincing echo to his overwhelming desire to do something productive again. Today was The Day.
The soft, sleepy rumble of Block C was broken eventually by the rolling cattle-call, which spread slowly up and down the corridors. Rob stuck his head under the sink tap, wrung out his shoulder-length hair, and groomed his mustache as best he could without a comb. He changed from his pajamas into a daily work uniform, and soon his door opened: "D-77732, it's time to eat. Follow me." How personal, he thought, that the guards call us to breakfast individually. He cautiously counted it as a positive sign. He smiled at the guard in response, but received no indication of any reaction through the helmet.
The canteen food was surprisingly adequate. He'd developed a bit of a taste for powdered eggs over his years of incarceration, and they'd never once had bacon at Menard Correctional Facility, from which he'd been transferred. He thought for a moment, and added the bacon to the list of positive things about this decision. Even if he wound up shoveling toxic waste today, at least he'd had some decent food.
The atmosphere in the canteen was surprisingly lively. Three years ago, he'd learned the hard way that "lively" and "friendly" are very different things in prison, so he spent breakfast trying to read the room and learn some personalities. The dominant conversation was a loud, spirited debate began over whether undercover cops have to admit to being cops when asked. He couldn't help but smile at the earnestness of the large, bald man (Ryan), and watched with amusement as Ryan attempted to draft a random bystander into supporting his claims. It reminded him of the banter in his old shop, bringing up memories that made his chest go tight. He thought about joining in, but that was sentiment's influence. Instead, he kept his eye on the younger man who had been drawn into the odd conversation.
---------
[heaviside]: god only knows
[heaviside]: sooner than usual, isn't it? wonder if their attrition rates have been higher than usual lately
[heaviside]: can't be anything good
[heaviside]: but then, when is it ever anything good?
@Stekkmen Do you want us to use individualized post headers/text colors?
---
GHMHRSO ACTIVIST
[USERNAME]: heaviside
@Stekkmen Thank you!
SALUTATIONS AND WELCOME TO THE GUILD. PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY
THANK YOU FOR BEING SO WELCOMING, I LIKE THIS PLACE VERY MUCH ALREADY
<Snipped quote by grandophicleide>
WELCOME TO THE GUILD!
THANKS BUD I THINK IT'S GONNA BE A GOOD TIME!
Hey! I'm new to the site, which I hope won't preclude me from participating here. I'm a longtime fan of the SCP universe, so I'm excited to try my hand at this RP. Let me know what you think!
D-CLASS PERSONNEL SHEET
[NAME]: Robert (Rob) Anderson
[AGE]: 43
[SEX]: M
[REASON FOR IMPRISONMENT]: Second-degree murder
[STRENGTHS]: Knots and ropes; physically strong; proficient carpenter/tinkerer, passable welder
[WEAKNESSES]: Poor cardio stamina; chronic low-grade back pain and tinnitus; clever at his work but otherwise of very average intellect
[APPEARANCE]:
[DAYS UNTIL RELEASE]: 30
---
GHMHRSO ACTIVIST
[USERNAME]: heaviside
D-CLASS PERSONNEL SHEET
[NAME]: Robert (Rob) Anderson
[AGE]: 43
[SEX]: M
[REASON FOR IMPRISONMENT]: Second-degree murder
[STRENGTHS]: Knots and ropes; physically strong; proficient carpenter/tinkerer, passable welder
[WEAKNESSES]: Poor cardio stamina; chronic low-grade back pain and tinnitus; clever at his work but otherwise of very average intellect
[APPEARANCE]:
[DAYS UNTIL RELEASE]: 30
---
GHMHRSO ACTIVIST
[USERNAME]: heaviside
Hey folks, I'm excited to have found this board! I used to RP a lot way back in the day, and I've finally decided it's time to get back into it. Looking forward to adventuring with you all.
About me: I'm 24M and live in the US. I'm a graduate student in engineering, but I'm hoping to start work soon as an apprentice organbuilder. I also occasionally do scenic carpentry for my local musical theater company (though time for that has been scarce of late...). I also like beer and cooperative video games that involve yelling good-naturedly at my friends.
About me: I'm 24M and live in the US. I'm a graduate student in engineering, but I'm hoping to start work soon as an apprentice organbuilder. I also occasionally do scenic carpentry for my local musical theater company (though time for that has been scarce of late...). I also like beer and cooperative video games that involve yelling good-naturedly at my friends.
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