Avatar of Spoopy Scary

Status

Recent Statuses

2 yrs 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
5 yrs ago
i can't believe it's already christmas today
2 likes
5 yrs ago
*skeletal hand emerges from an unmarked grave* the drive thru forgot my side order
2 likes
6 yrs ago
Imagine having an opinion on rpg dot com
6 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
@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

Still no sheet, bruh.


This never happened.
Still no sheet, bruh.
<Snipped quote by Spoopy Scary>

It's a good thing my character can and will become ugly when your character is around.

How dare you make me want to fuck an anime

<Snipped quote by Spoopy Scary>

Alright then we're good. My character has a lava lamp for a head.

You trying to say I wouldn't fuck a lava lamp?
My character will actively go out and murder everybody if literally every character is conventionally attractive.
I have a character already prepared, because I get Regal Entertainment's first look. :^)
<Snipped quote by Spoopy Scary>

That's good, because you wouldn't know what a "good idea" is if it smacked you across the face.

( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)


@Mahz help I'm being abused
Literally the worst idea I've ever read.
<Snipped quote by Mr Allen J>

How low. That's plural. The only one who really gave you any grief was me, and I'd say "asshole" would be the closest thing to an accurate insult you should be throwing my way. Nobody else did anything to you. They politely backed out, maybe leaving a single comment but it's pretty petty to just call everyone idiots. Besides, you wronged me first.

But that's not even the worst part. Don't imply I'm a casual. You seem to think that you're any better off leaving the Casual section. How so very wrong. I look at both the Casual and Advanced sections when searching for some entertainment. I doubt that very many people restrict themselves to one section. I really doubt it matters.

Honestly I had a very specific reason for looking over this RP again and wasn't going to leave a comment. But come on, at least stick to Skype or a different website when you're talking shit. :^)



Changeling Unit...



It was so foolish believing in Luis like that.

The Mannequin thought he was the one who'd be the perfect puppet... but in the end, he died due to his own delusions. Nonetheless, the Mannequin had his backup plans. Which he was going to implore while he had the chance.

A portal opened up within an abandoned building within the Ghost Town, and the trio stepped through it. It was a dusty, water damaged, building that was just about to fall over. The Mannequin knew that heading back to the Changeling hideout was a bad idea, it most likely would have been crawling with NEST agents by now. However, long as he was alive, he could get in contact with the backup plan.

Flashbang dropped to her knees, and Mannequin looked over his shoulder to see that she was ashing. Flicks of a black ash came off her and she screeched in pain.

If the Mannequin was capable of it, he'd be rolling his eyes. Looks like they pushed Flashbang to her limits. That just makes things more irritating. However, Mannequin was willing to put Flashbang out of her misery.

The inhuman machine crawled over to Flashbang, and grabbed her by her jaw, and cocked his other hand. He flexed his fingers as he retracted a blade out of his palm. Flashbang was practically falling apart - which made it easy to use his mechanical strength to stab her through the skull.

At that point, Flashbang faded away into ash.

The Mannequin turned to Witch Mother. "...This complicates things." He said. "I was hoping that Flashbang can take us to our contact... but it's becoming apparent that I'll have to go alone."

The Witch Mother stood there, and was hoping that the Mannequin is going to say what she think he is.

"Luis is dead. Heartbreaker is dead. As it stands, the Changeling Unit is no more." Mannequin's robotic voice was monotone. "Where I'm going to go... it's best that I go alone. It'll be easier for me to slip through the cracks of everyone who pursues me."

"So, I can leave?" Witch Mother asked.

"Your bounds to the Changeling Unit are... no more..." The Mannequin said. "However, you should take the chance to run while you still have time... regardless of what you tell them, they're going to kill you."

"I'll take those chances." The Witch Mother said as she took the opportunity to get the hell out. She ran straight for the door. She was waiting for this moment for years.

The Mannequin didn't do anything - gears in that head of his started to turn as he tried to reach out to the plan B...

Before Witch Mother had the opportunity to leave, the mechanism rattled as it turned in her hand, not of her own doing. There was a stranger on the other side. The hinges creaked and a crack of light shone into the dusty structure.

Baron was surprised to find someone right at the door at he went to enter, but he kept his rigid composure. He stared into the Witch Mother with cold, steely eyes, recognizing her face from the depictions he had studied. He looked over her shoulder to see a machine-like... person, if he could call it that. It was unmistakably the Mannequin. His last quarry. Beside it was nothing but a limb, which was slowly dissolving into a black ash. Looks like they finally exhausted Flashbang's usefulness. Much like Baron predicted they would.

"So..." Baron crowed. "This is all that remains of the... mighty Changelings that had a hand in all this devastation."

The Mannequin immediately dropped to all fours like a predator. Facing Baron.

"It appears you have come here to finish what RAVEN started?" Mannequin spoke... normally he wouldn't speak to his enemies, but the terms have finally changed.

"RAVEN is..." Baron began in hesitation, as though he were looking for the right words. "...a tool. They've nothing more they can give; the win was ultimately a Pyrrhic victory."

The Mannequin narrowed his sole eye.

"So, you've come for your own reasons?" Mannequin asked. "It doesn't matter - the Changelings... are over. I have no intention of finishing what Luis started..."

"That is not true." Baron corrected. "You remain, yes? This... older lady, too? I will admit I am also responsible to your teetering on the brink, but the way I look at it... you should see it as a favor."

Baron stepped around the Witch Mother to take a couple more steps into the building.

"I don't want anything to do with the Changelings." The Witch Mother pleaded, putting her hands up. "I surrender. Do whatever you want with me, arrest me."

Baron sighed and slowly pulled out his Apache, and began gesturing it toward the Witch Mother. "You see what I mean?" Baron insisted. "This is what you get when your ranks consist of old women," he gestured at the Witch Mother, "idiots," Heartbreaker and Luis, "and a little girl." He was of course referring to Fig, whom Baron himself had killed.

"Look at it as a culling to thin out the herd of who didn't belong."

Casually, he raised the Apache and aimed it square at the Witch Mother. He knew she was genuine in her claim. He could tell. But over the years, Baron ran out of sympathy. Mercy got people killed. And regardless of all the good intentions she has now, the countless atrocities had to be payed for. This case wasn't that different from Dr. Brooke's. Baron would even perform the same deed in that case as he is now - but the point was to acknowledge the shades of humanity, and not immediately think of them as monsters.

He fired the shot at the Witch Mother.

The Witch Mother was hit in the gut with the bullet, and fell down onto her behind. She clenched the bullet wound, as she started panting. Blood was pouring out of her wound, she would die without medical treatment.

The Mannequin didn't respond even in the slightest to the Witch Mother's injury. The Witch Mother was useless now. He was merely focusing on Baron. There was a chance that the Mannequin could simply flee out a window, but Baron was fully on guard and...

...very unpredictable.

It'd be a foolish feat on par with Luis to take his chance without having a solid exit.

"Don't give up on the Changeling unit just yet." Baron said smoothly. "You're a scientist, yes? Look at this as an experiment. The first prototype. Now that we know what doesn't work, we can approach this Unit idea with different methods."

"You wish to rebuild the Changeling Unit...?" The Mannequin asked out of sheer disbelief.

"At first I wanted to join." Baron told him. "But I wasn't sure. I wanted to see how much punishment it could take, what your lasting power was. I was discouraged to find out that... the rest didn't have the suitable survival instincts necessary for such an undertaking. But now that I found you, I think we can actually get something done."

"Luis..." The Mannequin trailed off, taking in Baron's words. "Heartbreaker... all of them... they were nothing but pawns. A means to an end..."

He narrowed his eye.

"...That stopped being convenient." The Mannequin said. "Throughout the years... Godhood... A perfect world... it's all nonsense. Some other fool had already implanted that idea in Luis' head... I've just been feeding him that stupidity to get them to do as I please..."

The Mannequin got on two feet again - he was at least ten feet, but he hunched over so he appeared a foot taller than Baron. He stared him right in his green eyes.

"There is something to be gained out of a Metahuman that can burn all to ash..." The Mannequin said. "They're implanted with a form of the Metahuman energy so powerful that it can be harnessed for great things. Essentially giving people powers for temporary periods..."

The Mannequin took a few steps forward towards Baron.

"For example... extreme regeneration, revival of the dead, enhancing people...." The Mannequin said. "And so forth. Such medical accomplishments that would change the very face of the world... I want to work with it."

"I can grant you an immunity of sorts." Baron told him. "Control through brute force gets nothing done, Luis has proven that... now, I have information that can compromise several nations. Control through political and economic means - such as the sort of blackmail I wield - could have allowed the Changeling Unit to remain under government radar, and NEST would have never gotten the authority to pursue and destroy the Changelings... and control is ultimately my ambition. Not quite unlike Luis' Godhood, but... feasible."

Baron drove a hard bargin. He was unsure of who this man was, but he had connections if he was able to return to a forsaken city. However, there was one thing on his mind... "Throughout the years... I've been abandoning everything in pursuit of the ultimate breakthrough..." The Mannequin trailed off. "... My body..." He looked down at his ceramic shell. ".... My family..."

"...And possibly my soul - along with what remains of my "humanity"." The Mannequin blankly said. "All in the pursuit of one thing..."

"If I'm willing to reform the Changelings... starting with you..." The Mannequin took a few steps forward until he was practically inches away from Baron's face.

"Prove your worth..." A hint of anger entered his voice. "...Show me you are willing to help me further my dream."

Baron smiled, and slowly reached into his pocket, before withdrawing a passport booklet. He extended his arm to hand it to the Mannequin. Inside were dozens and dozens of different names and slight alterations to Baron's face, and each of them corresponding to a different country. In every one of them possessed special government-given permissions with the depictions of little icons on the top right-most corner of the IDs.

"Deceit might be my specialty," Baron admitted, "but I would be a foolish cripple to try deceiving you... oh, but... that was not the sort of proof you were looking for? Was it?"

"No." The Mannequin answered. "I want your alleigance." The Mannequin threw the booklet to the ground like it was nothing as he took a step back.

"I see..." Baron mused quietly. Damn. He might have to get a tattoo at some point in the future to cover this up.

"Then how about a little something I won't be able to hide?" Baron suggested. He flipped open the blade on his Apache and stuck his left arm out. He took a deep breath as he dug the tip of the blade on one side of his forearm. He made a moderate cut and curved it around, forming a C. Baron gritted his teeth to hide any weakness from the machine man. He was a P.O.W. He could do this. It would be easier on himself if he kept going. Cursive it is, then.

Slowly, the C merged into an H, and then into an A. Blood began running down his arm. It was a good couple minutes of stinging and wincing, and grunts. He almost felt a bit dizzy trying to keep a strong face as he put himself through this kind of self-torture. But his art piece was eventually finished.

Cut in cursive, on Baron's left forearm, read the word "Changeling".

The Mannequin would have laughed (if he could). "Good..." The Mannequin whispered. "...Very good. You have shown me you are willing to join me. Come now, we have much work to do..." The Mannequin turned away from Baron and began walking towards the door...

Baron began following, feeling the air touch his arm, wracked with pain. At least he earned the Mannequin's trust. Still, there was one last thing he had to finish.

"You know," Baron started, "now that we're colleagues, it would be shameful to hide anything more. As a Changeling... I feel you should know what my power is."

"...Power?" Mannequin looked over his shoulder and whispered at him. The moment Mannequin had done so, all he saw was a blood-soaked blade lunging toward his eye, and Baron thrusted it as far into the Mannequin's head as he could. He didn't want to take chances on this thing having the kind of regeneration Luis did. His blood in the Mannequin's system should keep him from doing that.

The Mannequin started thrashing around with the knife in his eye, as he let out a distorted yell. "...You *zzt* bastard... *zzt* this is *zzt* for the best.... *zzt*" There was blood dripping down from his eye.

This was the apparent end of the Mannequin, and fell forward on the ground, motionless.

Baron was taking deep breathes as he waited to see if he would get up again. but the Mannequin remained still. He let out a final, relieved sigh. As he said before, deceit was his specialty.

He picked up the Apache as it was still stuck in the Mannequin's face. With he it popped out the eye and whatever fleshy bits that stuck to the optic nerve, and carelessly pulled it off and tossed it aside onto the dirty ground and hobbled outside at a slow pace, the metallic brace on his leg clicking as he moved. He suddenly felt the brace budge, and his knee bent. Pulling up his pant leg, he revealed that the black machinery encasing his knee had become unlatched and hung loosely around his leg. In irritation, he kicked the thing off of him and took a moment to stretch his leg out. "Damn, I guess that thing's thrashing knocked something loose... I'll put the damn thing back on before I re-enter city limits. It's nice to be rid of it for a little while."

For one, he felt comfortable as he continued walking casually through the old ghost district of Verthaven, not having to hide anything anymore, and listening for the sounds of trucks and helicopters and the like to guide him back to the rendezvous point. The binder containing Dr. Brooke's research being tucked securely into the back of his pants, and his shirt layered over it.

"So this is finally the end..."

"...Not quite." The Mannequin muttered to himself after Baron had left. A faint electronic laughter had came out of his mouth. He pushed himself up to his feet. All Mannequin could see was static... An unfortunate side effect of getting his optic nerve damaged, but Baron never considered that the Mannequin was clever enough to hide the most important fragment of his old body in his torso.

He'd have to repair this when he gets the chance. For now, he'd have to quickly leave here before Baron comes back. If Mannequin was correct, he would redirect NEST over here. The Mannequin took two steps forward, and put his hand on the Witch Mother's head. Pulling it back a bit.

She's dead.

Didn't matter.

The Witch Mother was dead weight at this point. In Baron's feeble attempt to kill him, all he did was make the Mannequin's job much easier. Without NEST pursuing him, he can go to his alternative at any given moment.

However, Baron had damaged his communications, so he'd have to meet her in person.

Taking his time, the Mannequin climbed over to the shattered window, and crawled out of it. His hands attaching themselves to the side of the wall like an insect. He crawled in between the buildings, and disappeared into the nearest sewer entrance.

Which he used to make his great escape from Verthaven...

...He's got a lot of work to do.
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