TROLLSLUM 4: IT KEEPS HAPPENING

[Panzerbear]

I swear this is the last one. For now.



Be the battle-weary deserter.

Your name is Limena Preyar, and... you're not sure what perigree it is. You stopped counting after a while, so that you'd stop counting how many nights it has been since you absconded from military service. You take solace in your belief that you're somewhere your fellow soldiers would never think to look – back on Alternia. Pilfered carpenter droids built this bunker for you, hidden in a heavily wooded hillside. Locked away in seclusion, you try not to think about why you left in the first place.

It was only a sweep ago, if memory serves, when you served on that... diplomatic infiltration. Even as a relatively new recruit, you were recognized for undeniably potent charisma and amiability, which after some time earned you a special role in the military's plans. Your duty was simple – all you had to do was lull a race of neutral aliens into a false sense of security, get them to drop their defenses. But some of those fake friendships were a little too rooted in reality, and when their blood decorated your uniform as the threshecutioners went about their business, grim reality was a little too much for you. Suddenly, the glory of Alternian conquest was nothing but senseless butchery. The trolls you'd once thought of as your own people were more monstrous than the creatures assigned to raise them. You didn't know what to feel. Frustration? Rage? Pity? Hate? Loss?

You still hadn't sorted it out when you stole a small craft and fled. You had always been an excellent liar, though, and so the excuses you gave when asked your purpose (which happened repeatedly when flying through Alternian space) seemed to work well enough. The truly mystifying moment was discovering your lusus, still alive, waiting for your return. These nights, the armored reptile takes care of you as you try to wrestle with what you ran away from.

The floorspace and walls of your bunker are littered with junk, most related to what pastimes you've retained from your childhood. An old karaoke machine, battered and quite clearly worn from abuse, sits on a table adjacent to your weapon-cleaning counter. The mindless, repetitive task of arms maintenance helps soothe you. Your rifle rests next to a pair of cestus, still reeking of the cleaning fluid. An archaic treadmill is stuffed into the corner, and you make certain that it hums to life at least once a night. After all, you can't let them take you if they manage to find you, so you need to stay in shape. Old movies about camaraderie and adventure collect dust on the shelves, though every once in a while you pull one down to gaze fondly at the cover and reminisce.

You'd once dreamed of being an actress, of rivaling the big names in the film industry as you sauntered into the spotlight even when given a minor role. Musicals were your favorite, due in part to an old moirail remarking that you have a lovely singing voice. Granted, the two of you were drunk, and anything sounded good at the time, but you took the sentiment seriously. But all of your old friends have long since left your life, and so your recourse is to try to build new relationships from the safety of your home.

The only lights typically illuminating your bunker come from your computer. A desktop stuffed with numerous messaging programs greets the ocular globes of anyone bothering to take a peek. Some are copies of others, but set up for role-playing personas you've cultivated. You do your best to lose yourself in these imaginary worlds, where things like pain and fear are equally imaginary. If the thought of stepping outside your bunker didn't terrify you, if the idea of having to see another troll face to face didn't make you want to cringe with horror, you'd perhaps engage in something of the extreme role-playing genre. For now, you work with lighter subject matter, in the interest of keeping safe and sound in this... cocoon of sorts that you've built for yourself.

If there's one thing you can't abide these nights, it's pointless fighting. You often find yourself playing the peace maker when other trolls are barking and snapping at each other. It's not that you care about them, per se, so much as you don't want anyone to drag you out of the bunker just to clean up the mess someone else has made. You want them to shut up and play nicely so you don't have to see walls painted in blood again. You know what trolls are capable of, and can't help but expect the worst from them.

As previously mentioned, your lusus is a plated reptile. Certain pale creatures from another universe might consider it a relative of the ankylosaur. She brings you food, but as Rookette isn't particularly carnivorous, you primarily eat a lot of salad and have to hope bugs or rodents crawl into your home when you want some protein. You don't admit it, but part of you enjoys being taken care of again, after your stint in the military.

Your trolltag is dreamingChrysalis, and you tend to be a little soft-spoken, but also formal, sir.

EDIT: Thanks go to alexthewhite for help in character development, and adamantRevolutionary for costume inspiration :3

[Temperencia]

hey guys i just got

SUPER SCRIBBLENAUTS

[crash826]

oh REALLY

did you make a TROLL ABOUT IT

Also, that's a really interesting persona, Panzer! (8

[Skvira]

Super Scribblenauts has Sleuth Diplomacy

Its awesome

[Temperencia]

hopy shit
It is awesome.

[Thunder Reign]

hopy shit
It is awesome.

Reaper? How is this related to trolls?

[Temperencia]

hopy shit
It is awesome.

Reaper? How is this related to trolls?

Well uh..
I just wanted to tell you guys?

Sorry.

[JadeWolf27]

hey guys i just got

SUPER SCRIBBLENAUTS

I only have regular Scribblenauts.
Does it let you actually draw stuff in it or is it still only text-based?

[Pandemonius]

It's still just text.

[Skvira]

For drawing stuff there is Drawn to Life, but its very limited

[Thunder Reign]

Guys, please. I understand you're friends, but you're veering wildly off topic. Can we try and keep things related to the actual purpose of the thread?

[Doctor Tess]

Yeah I don't mind if you guys jump topics wildly like you are so prone to doing, but could you please try to keep it related to trolls, at least?

[Nox]

First draft of my second troll, I'll add a bit more later.

>Be the scary and really creepy troll girl


(Image Pending, just picture her in Black and White outfit with a crescent moon as her symbol)



You are now the scary troll girl.

Your name is SHIVIA THANATOS and you just plain FREAK PEOPLE OUT.

There are a number of potential reasons for this. It could be your PITCH BLACK BLOOD, your HELLISH GRIN, or your habit of KILLING EVERYTHING AROUND YOU. Upon reflection, it’s most likely that last one.

You have a number of INTERESTS including practicing your SINGING VOICE, which you are quite proud of. You use to hope that one day you would be known for your LYRICAL VOCAL MELODIES alone, now it’s just a hobby.

You are also well skilled in ROBOTICS as seen via the many MACHINE SERVANTS you surround yourself with. As an extension of that you also are a half decent PROGRAMMER, mostly specialized in ROBOT COMMAND PROGRAMMING. You need to know you can trust those around you, and at this point the only beings you would trust farther then you could throw are those you PROGRAM.

You’re LUSUS is dead, taken on THAT FATEFUL NIGHT along with your original HIVE, your ONLY FRIEND IN THE WORLD, and your ABILITY TO TRUST ANYONE. That was also the night that you COMPLETELY SNAPPED and started KILLING ON A WHIM. In short, describing said LUSUS is a waste of time.

You are gifted with a rather unique MENTAL ABILITY, or rather an ANTI- MENTAL ABILITY. You know that resistance to mental attacks HIGH BLOODS have more of then LOW BLOODS do? Turns out you have a super version of that. No one seems to be able to mentally influence you or read your thoughts. Naturally a PSYONIC BLAST would fry you like it would anyone else, but you can’t have everything. This ability has leaded you to wonder if you could survive the GREAT GLUB. At the very least you would be the last to die on ALTERNIA if it happened, and you would get a moment to enjoy the fact that everyone else was dead first.

Your chat handle is executionerSong and you _replace_your_spaces_with_underscores_to_ form_a_scythe_)

(Like this:
_____)
See, it’s a sweet scythe!)

Land: Land of Towers and Moonlight
Title: Witch of Life (Just Ironic? Or perhaps key character development...hmm.)
Strife Specibi: scythekind
Sylladex: rubix cube

[Pandemonius]

Okay. QUICK, SOMEONE CRITICIZE MY NEW TROLL.

>Be the terrorist.

You prefer the term 'revolutionary'.



You are now FRAGOR VOLATI

You are a scientific genius. Your technological skills are nearly peerless. Yet still, the world does not accept you. They SHUN you, for your insignificant orange blood. Or perhaps your violent insanity. It's one of the two, but you can't for the life of you remember which one. You'll just assume it's the blood. Regardless, you have decided that THE HIGHBLOODS are no longer fit to rule. To this end, you have turned to a life of crime, TERRORIZING THE POPULOUS with your hivemade BOMBS. Although, to be honest, you are NOT ENTIRELY SURE WHAT IT IS YOU'RE TRYING TO PROVE ANYMORE. Mostly you just like blowing shit up. However, your bombs don't always go off precisely when expected, one such occurrence having resulted in the loss of your horns.

Your strife specibus is allocated to EXPLOSIVEKIND, obviously. For standard combat purposes, you stick to good old fashioned dynamite. While your BOMBKIND is extremely powerful, you can only carry a limited supply of them. Once you run out, you're basically helpless.

Your trolltag is dynamicRevolutionary and you type in a manner that makes messaging KRAKOW!! KERBLAM!! a BLAST! RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE KRAKABOOM!!

[Rio]

Uh. His shoes are boring?

[Pandemonius]

Excellent. And now I'm off to bed WEEP IN THE HORN PILE.

[tonightsEntertainment]

Strife Specibi: sythekind

normally I wouldn't jump on spelling errors, but since you seem to be basing a lot of your character around it, 'scythe' is the proper spelling.

[Nox]

Strife Specibi: sythekind

normally I wouldn't jump on spelling errors, but since you seem to be basing a lot of your character around it, 'scythe' is the proper spelling.

...once again speed-typing has failed me.

[Blausky]

I've been working on this for a while, and I think my FIRST TROLL finally ready to be POSTED!!



>Be the vampire troll

"¿¿ǝɹıdɯɐʌ ɐ s,ʇɐɥʍ 'ʇıɐʍ ¡ǝɹıdɯɐʌ ɐ ʇou ɯɐ ı ¡¡ʎǝɥ"*

Right.

Your name is AITHAR MATDIA. Your INTERESTS include SLEEPING, and, well actually you spend most of your time sleeping regardless. The only time you aren't sleeping is when you’re HUNGRY. When you get HUNGRY there is only one thing that satisfies, TROLL BLOOD. You tried to eat other things, but since you live in a UNDER SEA CAVE, there isn't much to choose from. Other than WEIRD BUGS and MUSHROOMS which you've both learned the hard way are neither delicious nor good for you. So waiting for a sea troll or even rarer a land troll to wander into the cave is what you must do.
You could say your entire personality changes based on how HUNGRY you are when someone interacts with you. The fuller you are the more cheerful and helpful you are. The hungrier you are the more angry and impatient you are. You completely forgot how old you were but you're willing to guess 7 SWEEPS. You also forgot about the HEMOSPECTRUM and do not give two fangs who's what blood color.
You were practically hatched to live in caves with your HUGE EARS you can hear the tinniest bug breathing and your HUGE EYES can see every detail of the cave despite the lack of a light source. However you got there, you don't remember anymore. You've always been here with your BAT LUSUS. The only way in or out of the cave to your knowledge is by swimming in or out of the water entrance. Short story you can't swim to save your life.
You don't always win your battles, you practically lost your right eye in one of the closer ones. When you no longer can fight your LUSUS jumps in clawing and screeching, you find this extremely embarrassing having your LUSUS save you again. Considering all of your victims remains you have a plethora of weapons, technology, and clothes to choose from. You have no sense of fashion so you discard most of the clothing, and you are pretty RETARDED when it comes to technology so the simple husktop is what you stick with. You don't have enough patience usually for the computer so you left the trolltag and quirk as they were used originally. Your favorite weapon you've faced is the axe but you have no idea how to wield one. So you use your claws and teeth instead.

Other info
blood color: dark green
text color: dark red
title: Spy of Dreams
Land of Ash and Meadow
trolltag: excitedAdventurer
fetch modus: wish bone (you make a wish, break the bone)
strife specibi: clawkind, teethkind
shirt symbol: bite mark/two dots

show spoiler

hide spoiler

*if this is too annoying I have a plan B for the quirk
I am pretty horrible at sprite art forgive me.

[momatoes]

My third troll. :]

> Be the cool chick.



Your name is SARTIS SHIYON. You are a very cool chick. Just...just look at that hair, you know? Something about the shiny way it drapes over your shoulders.

You live alone, ever since your lusus DIED or MYSTERIOUSLY DISAPPEARED or WHATEVER. You think you were THREE SWEEPS when she disappeared. Suddenly, your lusus just vanished - You know what, you're too cool to have hang ups about that. You're a very TOUGH GIRL, SMART and STOIC and always UNFAZED. Just look at your PERFECT MAKEUP and CLOTHES!

You are something of an APOCALYPSE and DIVINATION BUFF. Everything you do daily has to be determined by a specific set of DIVINING RITUALS that you have devised. It's something of a HABIT. In addition, you have a beautiful collection of TAROT CARDS, which you use extensively to PREDICT THE DEATHS OF EVERYONE YOU KNOW. This is also aided by TEA CUP READING, FEATHERBEAST SHIT INTERPRETATION, and CLOUD WATCHING, as well as other weird and esoteric means. You do this to WARN EVERYONE of their demise and of the impending APOCALYPSE. Never mind that most of the time you're wildly off the bat. You're only concerned for them! They need to know! Why are they shrugging you off???

Whenever you are particularly frustrated, you gain the miraculous ability to LIFT EXTREMELY HEAVY OBJECTS and throw them at RIDICULOUS DISTANCES. This only works when accompanied by shouting, though. You have no idea why. Regardless, this is still extremely uncool! You settle with just politely biting your fingernails, that way you still look demure and sexy even when you really just want to SNAP SPINES IN HALF.

Sometimes you have no idea where your life is going. And sometimes, just sometimes, you wish the apocalypse would happen already.

Your tag is perkyOccultist and !!!Y0u 4re, like, c0nvinced 0f the truth ringing in y0ur v0ice.

the exact same thing is posted in the thread for Session 761! pardons for the redundancy.



If my trolls had canon numbers, Kataris would be 6, Raelis would be 5, and Sartis would be 4.

[Bandages]

Love it!

[aimlessAggressor]

Bluh bluhhhh
First trollsona
Ever
I'm so nervous

show spoiler

hide spoiler

> Be the Unbalanced Colony Builder

Your name is Rook Mirmek

Your blood color is DARK, RUST RED, marking you as the lowest of the low bloods. However, you're one of the luckier commoners. If you could call it that. You and your LUSUS venture into the deeper, unfinished caverns in the heart of Alternia. Your large ANT LUSUS kind of creeps you out, but you know first hand that it's best to just do as you're meant to; You and the others in your work group dig tunnels, build lawnrings, respiteblocks, and other various dwellings, and aid in the delivery of wrigglers. Even though you are NINE SOLAR SWEEPS in age, you have been working for the past five. Your work does not leave much time for RECREATION, and TECHNOLOGY ESPECIALLY seems to escape your grasp. You still haven't figure out how to set your TEXT COLOR in TROLLIAN.

Your personal respiteblock is RATHER SMALL, large enough for you and you alone. Your ANT LUSUS prefers to stay on the move, constantly roaming the outside, CULLING FUNGUS and HUNTING FOR FOOD, which you EAT BEGRUDGINGLY. You like to WRITE SONGS, but AREN'T VERY GOOD AT IT. You're better at SINGING, anyway, even if you'd never do so in front of an audience.

You're PRETTY STRONG for your age, which seems to make up for the fact that you LACK PSYCHIC POWERS of ANY KIND. At least, you remember hearing that the low-bloods were more likely to be mentally "gifted." You drew kinda short in this genetic lottery. Even your horns are UNBALANCED, a common trait in your personality. Generally, you find yourself at-ease in a working, simple life. But sometimes, you wake up, and want more. You can feel your eye twitch, your horns itch, and feel the thirst for chaos. You have a fondness for TATTOOS, and even though you only have one, you never miss a chance to show off your SWEET INK. Your trolltag is differentMadman, and you tend to abrev words and make ra's, and seem to lose track of the shift key from t2t J:/

Traits:
- Unbalanced|At any moment, Rook may switch between personalities, though this does not happen often
- Architectural aficionado|If you do something long enough, you begin to like it
- Technologically Retarded|help guys how do you change colors
- Physically strong for his age, but not even close to STRONG JUMP
- Weakminded|Easily overpowered by psychic attacks [and emotions derp]


Modus: Shuffle
Abstratus: wrenchkind
Handle: differentMadman
Quirk: likes to keep things sns, hates typing out the same things ononono
[short and sweet, over and over and over and over]
Relationships:
Moirail: Rehksa Voltet
Kismesis: Avigad Natrix [Separated]

[momatoes]

Congrats Aggressor! Welcome to the exciting world of high-stakes roleplaying (???). Does his tattoo stand for anything? Also, is he shirtless, or is it just a very convenient t-shirt color? o_o

[aimlessAggressor]

So shirtless
You see, he is my spirit troll

As far as his symbol, I actually just kind of blanked on what to make for that for a good deal of time, then it just came to me. If it has some kind of meaning, that'd be kind of odd and frightening and cool. Unfortunately, my scanner is broke, so we get to look at REALLY LAME photographs of sketches.

Unofficially, I will say it is the brand of the hive-builders.

[momatoes]

Ah, a spirit troll. Long have I yearned that such a spirit would come find and guide me in this weary world, but the only peeps who showed up were a bitterly angry girl, a drug-addled doctor, and a beautiful snob who told me I was going to die from paint fumes.

But, seriously, go ahead and post images* :0 Nothing is lame enough, I declare!!!


*oh gog i hope this doesn't backfire spectacularly