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About SpectreBeanz

  • Rank
  • Birthday 08/27/2003

Contact Methods

  • AIM
    Steam; SpectreBeanz
  • MSN
    Newgrounds; SpectreBeanz
  • Skype

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
    The Country That Loves Guns Too Much
  • Interests
    Horror Of The Lovecraftian edgelord kind and Stephen King, Sci-fi, Manga, Anime, Roblox Roleplay(HA, GAYYYYY!!!), Roleplay in General, D&D, Mad Max, The Big Leboski, Cult Movies, Hotline Miami, and Steven King, AND Drive, and other useless shit to get people to think I'm relavent. ALso Hotline Miami, Ghost Anakinism, and yeah
  • Occupation
    Part-Time 2nd Mate On A Lobster Boat And Other Odd Jobs

Recent Profile Visitors

1,133 profile views
  1. Fargo, and re-watching any Coen Brothers classic. Recently watched Logan, and for a Marvel movie, and just a movie in general, just holy shit it was good.
  2. Yeah I joined it, names SpectreBeanz as well, been using this alias for way too long.
  3. Hotline Miami one and Hotline Miami; Wrong Number, cause holy f*** it's just good music, but in all honesty, any of the Bungie Halo games have such a great soundtrack that I cant't decide.
  4. I sit here, at my friend's desk, his messy room always fucks with my head, the faint stench of weed in my nose, and Paint It Black by the rolling stones playing. My friend here, who sits on the floor by the office chair, eyes rolled way up, he left rags of his own semen decorating the room, and a large collection of internet pornography. How inconsiderate! To make up for this, I did some renovations and decorations of my own. The poor fuck never even bothered to paint his room, furnish the house with carpets or plants, and seemed like he never washed. First I have to tell you, that I cleaned his music collection. Deleted all that new shit and replaced it with Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, and The Motherfuck'in Pixies. I cleaned the porn off his computer, and that was that. Furnishing is the best by far, I'll admit. With the artery in your arm severed, you can use it like a pump action shotgun and spray blood at quite a range. His eyes just kept rolling up, and at one point I'm pretty fuck'in sure he bit his tongue off! Ack what am i thinking, I have to go now, wouldn't want any attention drawn to me, eh? (This is supposed to be edgy and stupid, I am working on a Hotline Miami screenplay so most of my creative energy is used up there, sorry!)
  5. Moniker: Roland Name: Roland Hyraaq Visual Age: Early 40's Ethnicity: Terrenusian (Or Whatever Terrenus Dwellers Are Called) Race: Human Alignment: Neutral Gender: Male Class: Gunslinger Or Ranged If You Want To Be Blunt With Combat Terms physiology Hair: Sandy Brown Eyes: Hazel Height: 6'2 Weight: 210lbs Voice: Gravely, Deep Build: Lanky, But With Some Muscular Definition, Kinda Like Bruce Lee Condition: Healthy clothing -Leather Poncho -Run-Down Work Boots -Run-Down Pants skills Guns Improvised Weaponry Mild Hand To Hand Combat inventory Black Revolver x2 5in Blade x1 Map x1 Compass x1 Canteen x1 Rations x5 Credits: • Dan: Profile Layout. LOOK OUT BELOW!
  6. After a long many mouths of pocket polo, going through money, It's Always Sunny marathons, Fargo, and Jax cheese puffs, (and some burning rope) I am back in full ADHD, Filthy, horrible, with aaudacieous grammer and geed ward uses. i am gouing to make one of tose thingys that lets you have a cool kid status at your posts to let other members know your a certified, bonafide, graemoristic post apoctalyptic writer. And besides all that riduculous edgy carp, I just would honestly like to say helo and I am back and please dont smite me.
  7. Hi. Just wanted to let you know to please not post purely OOC posts in IC threads. An OOC note in an IC post is fine but would otherwise recommend posting in an OOC thread, a PM to the people you want to contact, or posting on their wall like I am here :)

    1. SpectreBeanz


      Ay sorry dude, but I just needed to inform people of what went down and why I was gone for a year.

    2. supernal
  8. Roland would nod at Gradric, he could honestly care less. He grabs his plate and slips away from the realm of eating. He uses his heavy boots to open the french doors and once again passes the kitchen. As he enters the ornate great hall, the massive wooden plate in hand. He would walk up to the massive wooden door. He sets the large plate of food down on the tiled floor. Roland uses both hands and tugs. It dosn't budge. He glances up, checking for anything that might obstruct the door's path. "Well whopty-fuck'in-do!" Roland thought angrily, "Another fuck'in trap, just like the soldiers!" Roland not knowing if this was a trap or not, walks back to the dining hall, picking up his plate. Before he could reach the dining hall, just as he passes the sweet smelling kitchen, he see's a priest on a stove, cooking a stew of some kind. He adds salt and is preoccupied. Roland thinks this could be a good oppurtubity to find out what the hell is going on. He quietly sets down his plate, out of view of the open kitchen door. Roland reaches down into his boot, sliding his gloved fingers into a pocket in the boot, and drawing a small, curved knife. He hides it up his sleeve, and walks in the kitchen. "Heyyyy." says Roland sarcastically. "I have a teensy-weensy question." The priest, who was a bit startled had returned to his normal creepy demeanor. "And what is that sir?" His voice echoed in the high-roofed room. "Why did you, how do I put this... LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR!" His voice echoing throughout. "Sir," the priest says. "No need to be boisterous and profane, I can explain to you if you jus-" Cutting him off Roland says. "If I just what, do what you little slimy pri-" Getting a taste of his own medicine, the priest inturupts, not so happy this time. "The undead you fool, the accursed undead! Have you not heard!" Roland steps back. "So what do you mean, like there are f-fuck'in zombies and shit out there?" "Exactly." the priest says. "Yeah... we kinda umm, we left someone in the fucking caravan, annnd I was given the task of bringing her food, only now to realize she is probably a beaten-bloody corpse!" "There is nothing we can do sir, my greatest apologies." "Bull fucking shit, you know well enough I could dash out there and retrieve her or her remains!" "It is too risky." The priest says distantly. Roland draws his knife, shoving the edge centimeters away from the priest's neck, meanwhile clutching the back of the priest's neck. "I will slit your throat disembowel you, and stomp your fucking head in if you don't let me outside, my pay grade is gonna be seriously damaged from this shit!" Roland hears steps coming from the hallway, seeing a smaller humanoid shadow pass over the doorway. "Hey Gradric! Is that you or somebody else? Listen these fucking priests, just come in here and I'll explain!" Roland uses the back of his hand to knock the priest unconscious, balling it into a fist and punching the back of his neck, not a fatal injury, but if executed wrong, could cause serious brain damage. The priest heaps to the floor.
  9. The table sat in the middle of the great hall past a set of french doors made of green glass. They had passed the kitchen and Roland's mouth began to water in anticipation. All the dwarves provided him with were meat rations. As they approach the green door the side priests open it to reveal a low wooden table full of food. Roland is in the middle of the line, as it files in, Gradric is still, dazzeled by the architecture, the ornate but organic designs decorating the abbey's walls and roof. The group sits at the simple wooden table. The priests act as waiters, serving fruit and vegetables to the group as they please. After about a minute of Gradric and Balfnar's absense, a loud "Codswallop!" echoes through the hall, the priests still mantaining their eerily calm demeanor while the quiet evaporates. The doors slam open and the dwarves come to sit down. The head priest, in his white silk robe speaks in his equally silky voice, everyone's attention turning to him. "Now, I am sure many of you are weary and restless, but I assure you you will have rest here, there is a guest house around back of the abbey, now of your coming, are you here for the refugee supply delivery route or are you here for other reasons?"
  10. Alright!, that's good to hear! Also this quest dos'nt require a huge group of people, it could at least be a one-two person quest (the optimal amount of people for a small group would be 3-5.)
  11. @squid peanut Roland would shake his head. "No, you didn't confuse me, Mr. Boyle, I just didn't get exactly what you meant. Thank you for the explanation. I think I will try to not be an awkward sob and socialize, that'll get my hope up a bit, since I haven't talked in ages." He'd stroke his goatee. A tall man, who was skinny slips into a bar stool next to Roland. Meanwhile the rest of the bar are fucking about with weapons and their awkward demeanors', tow which Roland pays no attention to. He takes an interest to the man clad in black( @JasonFrohlich). Another man would walk in, looking beat up, he'd complain out loud and ask for a tailor, eyeing the bar-lady ( @ShadowStrykes). "Kind of a bragging bastard," Roland wound think, "But not a bad guy." Roland looks over his shoulder at the slender man in black. "What's your story, If you don't mind me ask'in?" Roland would speak in a half passive, half con-man way. He'd puff his pipe outward once more.
  12. SORRY FOR IN ACTIVITY!!! @lilypetals whenever everybody feels comfortable, I am ready, is anybody else ready?
  13. (OOC; @Leaderofthemile that was mumbled to myself, not heard out loud.) @squid peanut Roland would look around the room, seeing all the new people pile in. Boyle would give him his tea, Roland thanks him. He listens to Boyle talk about how certain people were "like fuses" or somethi'n. Roland looks at Boyle, his pipe airing smoke. "Mr. Boyle what do you mean by that, these people seem okay." Roland would sip the tea, it's odd purple color reflecting on his face.
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