Fabulous! *gets to work with a wiki page*
Fabulous! *gets to work with a wiki page*
Yes, Almost ready to start!! just two trolls more!
Wikia page added!
>Be the douchey one.
Your name is Tuurem Birbek.
You are interested in MUSIC, especially the "SHITTY INDEPENDENT HIVE BAND THAT NO ONE HAS EVER HEARD OF" GENRE. You also collect VARIOUS MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, and are EQUALLY TERRIBLE AT PLAYING EVERY ONE. However, you delude yourself into thinking you are TOTALLY AWESOME AT IT.
You have little interest in what happens outside your respiteblock, as you think yourself WAY TOO COOL for all that noise, and as a result HAVEN'T REALLY NOTICED HOW SHITTY A POSITION YOU'RE IN. You care little for the nuances of the hemospectrum, instead judging people mostly according to your RULE OF COOL. You dress in a way that yells: "I AM A SLEAZY DOUCHEBAG", and you are never without your trusty HEADPHONES. You are clearly a TRENDSETTING MAVERICK.
Honestly though, you aren't that great at most things. Your combat abilities are NON-EXISTANT; if it wasn't for your PAINFULLY BAD MUSIC and your MERCIFULLY DEAF LUSUS, Crocodillo, you'd long be dead. You are also HILARIOUSLY BAD at RELATIONSHIPS, and usually come off as an idiot whether you're pursuing a red or black relationship. Some people may think you're a bit of a SLEAZE, but you'd say you're more of a UNAPPRECIATED CHARMER.
Your trolltag is univalveCretaceous and you like to emßellish your ß's.
Age: 9 solar sweeps
Strife Specibus: noisekind (you are so bad a playing music that it causes physical pain!)
Fetch Modus: Name That Tune!™
Shirt symbol: Sixteenth note
Lusus: Crocodillo (massive six-legged crocodilian encased in a thick shell made of interlocking plates; luckily for it, it is completely deaf)
Weapon: AWFUL TASTE IN MUSIC
Last edited by Phantomad; 01-05-2011 at 04:47 PM.
Your trolltag is burningFisticuffs and you are open to being TROLLED on PESTERCHUM.
You also have a tumblr: BARREL CO.
Your name is Sor-... uh... Noland Blarroon, THAT is totally correct...
You have a variety of INTERESTS, usually involving completely screwing over other trolls. Yes you are a complete JERK who likes nothing more then to make the peoples lives around you miserable. Usually with the use of EVIL SCIENCE, though you weren't always like this. You also like to use your EVIL SCIENCE skills to bring back the DEAD, though you're not very good at it. Due to your LAZYNESS sometimes the gears you use to bring back the dead don't fit, which causes them to bleed profusely, though you really don't CARE when they do. Your face was badly damaged when you attempted to "recruit" your current lusus, really it was more of an act of revenge against a certain troll, sense then you've repaired it. You have never been very STRONG, so you have that lusus do most of the heavy lifting for you.
Name: Noland Blarroon
Age: 7 solar sweeps. (15 years old.)
Blood/Font: Blue ( #333399 )
Symbol: pink Crescent moon turned purple due to blood.
Typing Quirk: Tends to be a huge jerk and gives away most of the things he's planning by obsessively denying he's actually planning them. He also capitalizes the letters D,E,A,T,H.
Lusus: Not really your Lusus, so you don't know what he actually is.
Fetch Modus: EvilSciencekind, you must do something evil to yourself or someone else in order to get what you want.
Strife Specibi: YOYOGEARKIND, and MACHINEGUNKIND.
Jerk: is not a very nice troll to have a conversation with more then half the time.
Unintentionally helpful: Likes to replace lost limbs and such with machinery.
No Morals: he is perfectly OK with killing indiscriminately, as long as it beneficial for himself.
Medic?: Knows quite a bit about the trolls and lusus anatomy, may double as a very bad medic if he wanted too.
NoInterestInRomance: There's actually a very good reason for this.
Last edited by incarceratedNoname; 01-09-2011 at 11:38 AM.
Ok you both are in buuuuuuut we kinda need more girls (we have a 1/7 ratio right now), so, you know what?
I'm going to open two or three slots but just for girls.
Do genderbender trolls count?
Also, when he turns into a girl, the goatee dissappears.
Heh, it would be cool if you made his female version into a sprite, but making him more feminine than removing his goatee, though.
If you want, I could change my characters gender over to female, he was originally supposed to be a chick anyway.
Image properties gives everything away.
No, it's fine, the more the merrier, right?
sooooo, Is genderbent guy/girl in?
(S)he would confuse the fuck out of ragnar,
MB: WhOa WhO ArE YoU AgIaN? [0_0]
MB: ArE YoU LiKe A ImPoStEr oR sOmEtHiNg, WaIt WhErE aRe YoU GoInG. [!_!]
MB:CoMe BaCk I NeEd YoU FoR mY StEeEeEeEeW! YoU pRoBaLlY TaStE DeLiCoUs! [<_>]
cue chase with a sawflailing maniac.
Last edited by Bramzter; 01-06-2011 at 05:44 PM.
I'm just waiting that PB makes the sprite of the female version and i'll put him in.
If someone can make it to look better, please do it ;A;
Nah, it looks good.
Try making the hair a bit smoother and it's perfect.
Be the Hand of the Gods.
TL;DR version, extra info:
Name: Hallen Klaryv
Quirk: Replaces D and T with +
Strife Portfolio: Axekind
Fetch Modus: Scripture Modus - Must recite holy verse to retrieve items
Lusus: Fire-breathing woofbeast, Baskervilles. (Think hellhound)
Blood/Text Color: c4a97a
Age: 9 sweeps
Interests: Music involving guitar, apocalypse scenarios, religion, military, travel
Enthusiastic - Very easily gets caught up in the heat of the moment.
Impressionable - Tends to believe whatever others say unless given solid reasons to question them.
Confrontational - She's loud and very direct, though usually not in an aggressive fashion. Subtlety is not her strong suit.
Compact - She's rather short (we're talking an even five feet tall), but crams a lot of muscle into that seemingly petite frame.
Evangelistic - She's not shy at all about spreading the word of the Noble Circle of Horrorterrors. Or, at least, what she thinks is their word.
Limited telepathy - She can read surface thoughts, though she uses the power unconsciously and usually mistakes it for spoken word.
Limited Suggestion - She can attempt to implant words and phrases into the minds of others. What they do with it beyond that is really their call.
Vulnerability - She has no idea how to shut off her mind from outside psychic influences.
Does that work? Need more/less/etc?
Last edited by Panzerbear; 01-10-2011 at 03:06 PM.
You both are in.
Does that mean we can start once you have done your intro and stuff?
AND NOW IT FINALLY BEGINS:
The Messiah finally docked at Pole-ring's main harbor.
Risthar got on the deck and took a spyglass from his sylladex, then used it to look around the remnants of the islands.
No one was showing up at all.
He took a megaphone from his sylladex and shouted:
"Attention! To all living citizens of this island! Come to the harbor IMMEDIATLY!"
He put the megaphone back in the sylladex and went back to the ship's control tower to deploy a ladder for the citizens.
Burlae got out of his hive, wearing a long coat. His lusus was by his side, purring.
Both of them started to walk to the harbor, calmly
Damn, what does that nutjob want?
Ragnar groggily poked his head out the current Cave he was occupying for previous day. Far away he saw a ship docking in the harbor, It looked military.
You often thought all the people in the military where dead, At-least the one you grabbed that spiffy uniform off was. He was also pretty tasty!. you thought by yourself and proceeded to pack your stuff together.
You bump your lusus on the head with a stick, He gave one tired glare in your direction and he walked out of the cave. Goodbye cave! Your inhabitant was tasty and your roof was dry, But i have to leave you now before angry people lynch me!
And with that he hoped on his lusus back and began to ride to the harbor,
ThIs WaS GoInG tO bE FuN (^_^)!
Last edited by Bramzter; 01-09-2011 at 12:50 PM.
"BWHATHOLYSHIT!" Graidn immediately got dressed and stormed out towards the harbor.
Mud squelched beneath thick boots as the vertically challenged figure paced behind the crude palisade. The sharpened stakes had barely been placed a week ago in the recently appropriated hive, though they hadn't had any real opportunity to be used. Every so often, the woman would tug at her thick braid, or readjust the red overshirt that she wore like a jacket. Disheveled and dirty, Hallen was weighing in her mind the benefits of simply staying put for the time being, or heading out toward the ship and whoever had barked the order. The fact that she'd recently exhausted what little food the hive's previous occupant had stored was making the latter option far more attractive. A growl that smelled of brimstone reminded her, however, that caution was still advisable. Aww, but I'm really hungry... But a moment's consideration was all it would take.
"Come on, Baskervilles! We're going to go figure out what's going on!" she announced cheerily, immediately sallying forth and heading toward the dock with an enthusiasm that didn't seem appropriate when her empty gut was taken into consideration. Baskervilles padded obediently alongside his assigned troll. While her wisdom was generally lacking, he was still obligated to keep an eye on her. At least she had the presence to keep her axe out and ready, even if it hadn't been tuned in weeks. The woofbeast gave one sorrowful look at the motorized two-wheeled device that had brought the two to the conquered hive in the first place. With it broken down, there wouldn't be any more riding around in it and letting the wind whip around his face.
Curiosity overrode the suspicion that had wormed its way into Hallen as she took stock of those other trolls who were already approaching the harbor. Hopefully, they wouldn't try anything, and then, maybe, just maybe, she could try to save their souls.
Romeda looked out the window. She’d never been the most outwardly social of trolls, perhaps, but as of recently, after so many deaths, the bookworm became an absolute recluse. She had read about things like this, of mass genocide and destruction. Romeda wondered—not for the first time—if this is how one of the races their empire had destroyed died: with confusion, decay, and never-ending hunger.
And now, she was being called. A man—a soldier, by how he was shouting—with a megaphone. The time for mourning (whatever passed in their culture for ‘mourning,’ anyway) had passed. The time for survival was upon them.
She tidied up her hive a bit—Romeda didn’t know why; she somehow doubted she’d be coming back. Romeda entered a few new objects into her sylladex—a book, several papers she was working on, and an extra bit of knotted neckwear—and cast a final, surveying look around the room. Her collection of alien artifacts would, for the most part, have to stay. She was no fool: taking them onto a military vessel would be most unwise.
“It seems, Merrl, that we are wanted,” Romeda said, gently stroking her Lusus’ beak. The owlbeast grudgingly accepted the show of affection. “Let’s go.” Merrl flapped its wings, flinging himself out of the window. Romeda watched her Lusus fly, looping around the exterior of her hive before settling down next to the door.
She joined him—and together, they ventured off into the night.
Last edited by Queelez; 01-10-2011 at 06:16 PM.