trollslum eight. put your fantroll profiles here.

[Thunder Reign]

WELCOME TO THE THUNDERDOME


GLORIA DEMEIZ: abaddonTerrified

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Your name is Gloria Demeiz, you are 11 sweeps old, and life has fucked you over.

You were hatched with impressive psionic powers, and we all know where that gets lowbloods like you. Yep- strapped to the front of a battleship and used as it's engine, tied to a bunch of wires and having your life force sucked away to ferry highbloods to distant planets. To say it sucks is putting it lightly. Not that you can do much about it, of course. The best you can do is simply withdraw inside yourself and sleep the days away, catching up on the sleep you missed out on when you were a youngster.

Hmm, what? Why, it's not like this ship's engine thing is a surprise to you. You knew it was going to happen from the first time you learned about the Empire. So you grew up a partier, fully intending to make the most of your life on the planetside, but you were always resigned to your fate. You were interested in FLARP, in tales of eldritch terrors, you had friends and lovers and haters, but when they dragged you off Alternia and shackled you to the S.S. Destructinator you weren't even remotely shocked.

You would have killed yourself before the drones got you, honestly, were it not for one thing. Ever since you were a wiggler, your dreams have been beautiful- the most glorious things you've ever seen, visions of golden streets and their friendly white denizens. Every moment you spend asleep is a moment you live your second life in a caste-free paradise. You didn't think it was so impressive when you were young, and Alternia was right there for you to run around in while awake, but these days any time you're not in the agony of the wires is a precious time indeed.

Your trollTag (not that you have time to use it) is abaddonTerrified and you used t:: have a strangely d::tty way ::f w::rding y::ur tr::llings.

DETAILS:
AGE: 11 Sweeps
NAME: Gloria Demeiz. Directly ripped off the English words "Glory" and "Demise".
BLOOD: #800000, hue 0, redblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: o -> ::
LUSUS: Golden Mole
STRIFE SPECIBUS: Unassigned (Laser eyes)
SGRUB TITLE: Witch of Hope (beta group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Heather and Angels
SGRUB MOON: Prospit

LUQUAS ELCHIZ: hurtComfort

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Your name is Luquas Elchiz, you are 9 sweeps old, and you are a complete asshole.

It's not your fault, though. Or perhaps it is. While it's no secret that Alternia breeds it's trolls to be ruthless to each other by way of survival, your nature takes it to a whole new level. It might be some sort of bizarre psychic power, or perhaps you were just hatched wrong, but you came into the world completely unable to feel empathy. Any empathy. You can feel emotions, sure, a whole bunch of them- but the concept of feeling compassion for your fellow troll is as alien as the idea of having bright red blood. To you, other members of your own species are as significant or as worthy of living as disgusting bugs that crawl underfoot, and you feel nothing but curiosity and amusement when their lives are snuffed out.

You believe yourself to be the smartest individual on the planet, with an intellect far surpassing any of these other idiotic trolls. As a result, you satisfy your natural bloodlust not by simply taking your buzzsaw to a random troll's neck, but by playing complex social games. You are an excellent actor, with a "humble helpful lowblood" persona mimicked to a T, and your favorite pasttime is worming your way into social groups and destroying them from within. You befriend others and then spread slander about them, you give horrendous advice to people suffering moments of weakness, and you scheme and manipulate until everyone in the friends group is either traumatized or dead. Nothing else gives you quite as much fun, bottom line!

But when you lie awake during the day, in your rundown hive and respiteblock, you cannot help but secretly envy those same trolls you're disgusted by. What is this 'empathy' like? What would it be like, actually respecting and emotionally connecting to others? You evaded being culled by the drones by faking your way into red and black relationships (ugh, how that disturbed you), but some small part of you desperately wishes you could enjoy the romance that your culture places so much importance on. Oh, well. You'll most likely never know.

Your trolltag is hurtComfort and you h9ve 9 pretty helpful w9y of typing, if you do s9y so yourself, but something 9lw9ys seems 9 bit... superior?...

DETAILS:
AGE: 9 Sweeps
NAME: Luquas- derivative of Lucas, which means "light", and Elchiz, a shortening of Melchizedek, biblical righteous king.
BLOOD: #802b00, hue 20, brownblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: a/A -> 9
LUSUS: Hedgehog-dinosaur
STRIFE SPECIBUS: buzzsawKind
SGRUB TITLE: Thief of Rage (beta group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Wheat and Quell
SGRUB MOON: Derse

ESPORA JETRAN: timeCrash

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Your name is Espora Jetran, you are 8.5 sweeps old, and time is not on your side.

You used to think it was, back when you were a wriggler and didn't know any better. Why? Well, your brown blood, something the spectrum dictates you ought to have been cursing, gave you a pretty awesome psychic ability- the ability to control your own time. You can speed yourself up to the point that you appear to be a blur to others, and if you're stuck in something boring- like a schoolfeeding session or bad movie- you can slow yourself down so that the world zooms past ten times faster. You thought you had hit the jackpot when it came to psychic abilities, and as a result you developed a cocky, headstrong personality. You even started fancying yourself an amateur vigilante, beating up older trolls in the blink of an eye. You were the best. Completely unstoppable. Nothing could get in your way!

That is, until you noticed that you had shed all your wiggler traits and developed into a full grown troll an entire sweep and a half before normal. It was then that you realized the truth of your ability, the one that your Pigeon-Kangaroo lusus had been trying and failing to teach you ever since you crawled out of the Cave of Trials- you've been running on your lifespan all along. Every time you sped up, you sped up your growth and development as well- effectively fastforwarding your way towards your inevitable death of old age. Or even that. Because when you speed up, everything in your body does. Wounds bleed and heal faster, diseases take much quicker to infect fully and then go away, your hair grows at an accelerated rate and your horns have practically exploded out of your head. Sounds good, right? Not if you had a tumor, or anything else like that. Without keeping your medical state constantly in check, careless use of your speed ability would turn an oddly shaped mole into a fatal melanoma before you even knew you had it.

Of course, slowing yourself down does the opposite- if you were to be critically wounded and use that ability, you wouldn't bleed out until weeks had passed- but you can never turn back the clock. As it is, you are an eight and a half sweep old in a ten sweep old's body, and if you don't manage your abilities much more finely then the gap's only going to get worse. But with your careless demeanor, who knows if you'll be able to?

Enough about the ability that's more or less defined your life, though. Let's examine your interests. You love to show others up, especially highbloods, although if pressed you will grudgingly admit you follow the spectrum. Sports are your favorite activity, although you won't say no to motorized two-wheel device races or even impromptu parkour (although the latter you are pretty shoddy at, due to never thinking out your jumps properly before you make them). You genuinely enjoy cooking, but often find yourself abusing your time powers to hurry up the process and thus ending up with under/overdone meals. Patience is a virtue you have yet to learn.

Your hive is in a shitty hivestem in a shitty town, and your lusus spends most of his time scuttling around eating trash. When at home you enjoy listening to edgy rock bands most of which have names like "We Sort of Slightly Disagree With The Hemospectrum (Please Don't Cull Us)", and either painting or practicing a wide variety of sports. So many sports. Oh god, the sports.

Your trolltag is timeCrash and you > speak fast and don't care.
> > except sometimes you do.
> > > well you care a lot of the time actually.
> > you just don't show it.
> hmmm.


DETAILS:
AGE: 8.5 Sweeps
NAME: Espora, from "Sporadic"; Jetran, from... ehh, let's say Cyborg 002.
BLOOD: #805500, hue 40, brownblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: Speed arrows before sentences, lowercase.
LUSUS: Pigeon-kangaroo
STRIFE SPECIBUS: greaveKind
SGRUB TITLE: Knight of Light (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Rice and Flow
SGRUB MOON: Prospit

ZENERE MORULA: hotbagHelios

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Your name is Zenere Morula, you are 9 sweeps old, and- oh, fuck! You're late!

Late for what? Your job, of course, one of the few things you've been able to hold down in your clusterfuck of a life. You are one of many delivery chumps for the industry known as Pizza Grub, a joint located in one of the most populated hivestem cities on Alternia. Ever wondered how so many trolls can lock themselves up in their hives and still have a supply of nice food? Yep, that's your responsibility. Pizza Grub delivers all hours of the night, to all castes and personalities- and let's not pretend this is an easy job. You've had to evade blueblood turrets, strap on your scuba gear and infiltrate in order to deliver grubnion rings to lazy-ass seadwellers, dodge the cantankerous lusii of many a troll and even protect yourself against psychic powers employed by confused lowblood customers who thought you were there to attack them. All in all, it's a rough existence, and it's a standing testament to your powers of survival that you're the oldest in employment.

Not that you're old. You're only about nine sweeps, the latter two of which have been spent in employment. Yeah, you started shovelling pizzas pretty young- but hey, you reckon it's been good for you! You're certainly fit as a fiddle, if a little aggressive at times.. okay, yeah you're rather. You're very boisterous, quite impatient, but most of all enthusiastic. It's not often that you get time off work (mostly because everyone has a bad tendency to kill each other, so you're the most reliable employee there is) and you spend it living large, doing whatever the hell you want. Gambling? Sure. Egging hives? Super fun. Picking fights at random? Of course, there's nothing like a bit of bloodthirst! You're normally pretty amicable, always willing to have a drink with anyone, but you're also a rather proud individual.

Well, you're not proud of your blood. Yellow blood, ugh, ugh. So gross. You haven't even gotten a sweet power to make up for it- you often theorize that your power is surviving, but honestly that's not exactly special. You often dream about having a higher caste, and you're more than a bit resentful of higher-castes who spend their time denouncing the hemospectrum, the same thing that made them so privileged in the first place! Jerks. Although, you're pretty well off for a lowblood yourself. You live in a two-story hive on the outskirts of the hivestem city where you work, and your lusus spends most of the time sleeping there. In a hilarious twist of irony, the lusus of Pizza Grub's No. 1 Employee is... a grublike being itself, a landdwelling blob of grubby goodness. From what you've read about your particular lusus species, they're meant to grow into lizards, but that has never happened and you highly doubt it ever will.

Your job gives you a good source of caegars, and you spend them on various things, like cosmetic horn surgery. What, you didn't think that horn looping was natural, did you? Hell no! They used to be useless downwards-facing horns before you paid for that. Now you can carry things in the loops of your horns, or hang things from them- useful, and in your opinion pretty cool looking. Unfortunately your brawling tendencies and job-related hazards got the right one smashed, and you keep it taped up to stop it from falling apart altogether. In fact, uh, you're normally covered in bandages of some sort. But hey, you're keeping the medical industry alive, yeah!!!!

Your trolltag is hotbagHelios, and you TYPE WITH A SORTA EASY-GOIN LAID BAQ ACCENT, YA KNOW? NO BIG DEAL, DAT'S LIFE.

DETAILS:
AGE: 9 Sweeps
NAME: Zenere from "Zenith", Morula as in the stage of a fertilised egg (I don't know).
BLOOD: 808000, hue 60, yellowblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: All caps, CK -> Q, YOU -> YA, THAT = DAT, THE = DA.
LUSUS: Giant grub
STRIFE SPECIBUS: pizzactrKind
SGRUB TITLE: Rogue of Blood (alpha wave)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Xenon and Yarn
SGRUB MOON: Prospit

ORLATH AYSRIS: rebornTeratoma

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Your name is Orlath Aysris, you were 8 sweeps old, and you're sort of dead.

Oh, well, it seemed like you had grand luck at the start. You were born a greenblood, yes, and your cramped hivestem respiteblock barely had room for all the Doctor Trollible and Doctor Frankentroll merchandise you shoved in it. Unlike your neighbours, who could shoot lasers from their eyes or move at ridiculous speeds, you had a power you thought was pretty gross: cellular manipulation. Namely, giving people tumours. Fast acting ones that could kill in minutes, yes, but still- gross. However, it was the basis for your fascination with mad scientists, and everything went from there.

Most of your wigglerhood was spent locked in your respiteblock, perfecting your evil scientist laugh, sewing your own labcoat, watching every single thriller or horror movie you could and practicing your powers on, well, anything you could find. After killing a neighbour who broke into your block looking for a fight by growing a massive tumour in the middle of his thinkpan, a passing-by redblood saw the display of your powers and immediately dragged you out with her to the FLARP grounds.

You? FLARP? You were always pretty self-assured, but you weren't sure if you were cut out for actual combat. Your doubt proved unfounded, however, and you shot to the top of the leader-board. This lead to you getting noticed by the leader of a notorious highblood team, being recruited into their ranks, living a brief and glorious life of luxury...

...and then snuffing it. Yeah, turns out that the leader of that highblood team was pretty hot, but everyone else had designs on her. Including a devious seadweller with a knack with wires. Long story short, he tricked you into shooting him, and then tricked her into killing you. It was a comedy of errors all 'round! You weren't particularly amused, though. In fact, were it not for the fact that you're sort of emotionless, you would totally be exacting your ghostly revenge.

But that's just it, you don't have emotions. You don't feel. You're nothing but a floating pawn of a million dead voices you never heard before, executing their wishes for reasons that escape you, and nobody can see you but the few trolls who can commune with the dead. That's alright with you, though. You don't mind at all. You don't mind anything.

Your trolltag is rebornTeratoma, and you (encl0se all y0ur w0rds in a tum0r)


DETAILS:
AGE: 8 Sweeps (dead)
NAME: Orlath and Aysris come from jumbling up "Osiris" and "Nyarlathotep".
BLOOD: 558000, hue 80, yellow-greenblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: o -> 0, all sentences contained in (brackets), no punctuation.
LUSUS: Clump of cells
STRIFE SPECIBUS: raygunKind
SGRUB TITLE: Page of Heart (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Ichor and Sinew
SGRUB MOON: Prospit

VALOKI GHARIL: toothTrauma

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Your name is Valoki Gharil, you are 12 sweeps old, and you more or less hate everyone.

You hate everyone so much that you willingly isolated yourself in the most hostile swamps known to trollkind in an attempt to get as far away from them as possible, dressing like a savage and tussling with swamp monsters on a nightly basis. Why do you hate your own kind so? Is it because they don't respect nature, the thing you've plunged into so deeply that you don't think you could ever return to the civilised world? No, nothing like that. It's because you loved them once, and they did nothing but spit on you.

Once upon a time you were a philanthropist, a kindly troll in a world that catered for the cruel. With your nigh-unnatural strength in one hand and determinator personality in the other, you devoted your life to helping out the less fortunate trolls that fate had spat on. You crafted four wheel devices for the paralysed, provided financial aid for the poor, and tutored the overly compassionate on how to survive in the world. Often you were met with hostility, but for every three who turned you away, there was one that thanked you with open arms. That was all you needed. Well, you... thought so.

The truth is that, over the perigees, you grew unhappy and restless. Every troll who was hostile to you grated on your nerves more and more, while the thanks of those who were receptive to your help meant less and less. Eventually, you got to the point where your benevolence turned to bitterness, and bitterness turned to wrath. You gunned down the hostiles and shrugged off the thankful. And then, a group of trolls organized an attempt on your life, and you just snapped.

Gunned them all down, fled to the swamps, and made a new life for yourself. A new, alone life. Where you didn't have to worry about the hemospectrum, or quadrants, or any of that societal bullshit. You don't expect to live here forever- one day a drone will surely find you and drag you out. But you've more or less dropped off the grid, you've survived for three more sweeps than you thought you would, and you've nestled yourself quite comfortably in the forest. You don't need anyone.

Your trolltag is toothTrauma, although you barely use it, and you aren't HERE TO HELP: anyone. They CAN JUST GO fuck off and: die.

DETAILS:
AGE: 12 Sweeps
NAME: Valoki from "Loki", Norse god, and Gharil from the gharial.
BLOOD: #2b8000, hue 100, greenblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: Capitalises second/third/fourth words and adds a colon after the second-last word in a sentence.
LUSUS: Bear-boar-bat (baoeart)
STRIFE SPECIBUS: rifleKind
SGRUB TITLE: Knight of Mind (beta group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Convection and Complication
SGRUB MOON: Prospit

REMIEM SHURAB: abbatoirAvarice

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Your name is Remiem Shurab, you are 9 sweeps old, and you aren't who you say you are.

Which is to say, you're a conwoman. A successful one, at that- but you don't think you're anything too special, just someone who learned how to exploit a critical weakness of other trolls from an early age. You saw the hubris and boasting of rich highbloods, the desperation of your kind to fill quadrants, and the commonplace nature of online relationships- and with these three things in mind, you created a false persona to scam others out of their caegars with.

To the denizens of the internet, you aren't Remiem at all. No, you're not the vicious jadeblood living alone with her fearsome naga lusus, not Remiem Shurab with her sharp tongue and penchant for laughing at the misfortune of others. You are "Meimer Sharle", a vulnerable and coquettish damsel, all alone in Alternia and running a vanity blog in the attempts of attracting a matesprit. There’s no message board on this blog of yours, only a link to your false trolltag, and it’s by this end that you extort your victims. You spin a web of lies to anyone who contacts you, claiming to have fallen for them and oh won’t you please buy me something, it’s so hard to live in this hivestem city! You pretend to love them, spend your waking hours manipulating them into buying you things or sending you their caegars, and when they demand to finally meet you in person? You murder them, frisk their body, and feed the corpse to your lusus.

Why do you do it? Because it brings in the riches, of course! You're practically rolling in cash, to the point where your lusus cheerfully sleeps on a pile of gold, and more and more suckers keep marching into your web. Although, to be fair, you are starting to get a little scared. If you've spent so much time as Meimer, do you really know how to be yourself any more? And if everyone falls in love with your alter ego... are they ever going to fall for you? You don't know, and you don't want to think about it. So you'll keep spinning your deceit and pulling the wool over some rich idiot's eyes, because you're frightened by the possibility that you might not actually know how to interact in proper society any more.

Your true trolltag is abbatoirAvarice, where you TYPE IN YOUR TRUE COLOR aaND HaaVE aa PRETTY OFFENSIVE WaaY OF TaaLKING, FUCKERS!
But when you're playing Meimer, you go by ambrosiaAnguine and you dec*o*rate y*o**u*r text with l*o*ts *o*f c*u*te little faces, heeheehee. *u*

DETAILS:
AGE: 9 Sweeps
NAME: From a couple of video game references, basically meaningless
BLOOD: #00802b, hue 140, jadeblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: As herself: all caps, A -> aa. As Meimer: lowercase, o/u -> *o*/*u*.
LUSUS: Female naga
STRIFE SPECIBUS: whipKind
SGRUB TITLE: Maid of Space (beta group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Glitter and Frogs
SGRUB MOON: Prospit

INDRAN DUCERA: humbleTechnicalities

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Your name is Indran Ducera, you are 8 sweeps old, and you are so normal. So, so normal.

Let's go through the reasons why you're normal, shall we? First off! You live in a wonderful little hivestem in a huge city, a hivestem so bland it's nigh impossible to tell which one is yours from the outside. You dress solely in shades of black and grey, the only attempts you make at fashion being what your moirail tries to dress you in, and you keep your appearance completely low-key. Even your hair- something that a lot of trolls style- isn't remarkable at all. Your interests are completely generic, with computers and digital music being a forte of yours; but even so, you've never made a popular program or song or anything else worth nothing. You could, if you wanted to, but you prefer to just poke around aimlessly. You've decorated your hive in monochrome, even going so far as to dye your sopor grey, and instead of typing in your blood you opt for a lovely hue of no satuation. Awesome! It's totally bland!! Just like you, and you're probably a red or a yellow blood, so why don't you scoot along and go examine some other tro-

yeah okay you're not fooling anyone.

...you're jade. Jade as jade can be, blood so rare that you don't think there's another troll who shares it on your entire continent. Perhaps if you had been blessed with a lusus who actually did a good job of raising you it wouldn't be such a big deal, but the enormous birdy beasty clawed thing that got assigned to you did such an abysmal job it left you utterly, 100% convinced that you would be murdered if anyone saw your blood color. Or worse. After all, doesn't this blood mean you can survive the sun? Doesn't this blood mean that you're destined for a life of being special? You don't want that. You don't want anyone to pay attention to you, you just want to be left alone!

So you hide yourself away in your respiteblock, boards nailed over the windows and Pizza Grub boxes littered on the floor, playing with your codes and tunes, content in the fact that you haven't been discovered yet. You have an excellent moirail, a possible red romance on your horizon, and you'll do anything to prevent anyone finding out your secret- even if it means you have to kill them yourself.

Your trolltag is humbleTechnicalities, and you have somejthing of a sjtrange jtyping quirk.


DETAILS:
AGE: 8 Sweeps
NAME: First name from "Indra", sun god, and second name from "Dudugera", another sun god.
BLOOD: #008055, hue 160, jadeblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: T/t -> JT/jt
LUSUS: Gryphon
STRIFE SPECIBUS: polearmKind
SGRUB TITLE: Heir of Hope (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Neon and Angels
SGRUB MOON: Prospit

ACRIRE RAGENI: rareCatch

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Your name is Acrire Rageni, you are 9 sweeps old, and you're going to be the very best.
Your lusus's species only thrives in the most hostile and driest of environments, so it was natural that you would be living in a tower hive in the middle of the desert, your respiteblock a good seventeen storeys off the ground in order to prevent any ravenous undead climbing up to eat you. If your darling monster mommy wasn't so cooperative, you would be trapped in your hive like some sort of storybook princess! As it is, though, she is perfectly happy to ferry you up and down.

To say you are overconfident would be... a pretty apt assessment, to be honest. Your relative isolation from everyone else makes it easy for you to think you are simply the best, and you often believe that you are much smarter than the trolls you talk to; so much so that you often talk down to others, dispensing advice that isn't really particularly relevant to the situation. It's not your fault others don't understand.

If someone challenges your superiority, it's very easy for you to hate them. Not in a blackrom sense, just pure platonic loathing. You are a very, very, very sore loser. This is why you have only ever played one game of FLARP in your life before switching to fiduspawn- your first session ended with your Clouder using his psychic powers to warp the cells in the very roots of your horns, forever cursing them to grow in the shape of tumors. Seriously, who was that guy? Fuck him. You hope he dies.

But FLARP was dumb anyway. Fiduspawn is your true calling! You want to be the very best, like no-one ever was, and you're not joking. You've sunk all your money and time into this so-called game for wrigglers, and constantly make a killing on the professional tourney circuit. You own all the oogonibombs and oogoniballs. All of them. The bottom sixteen floors of your hive have been pretty much converted into stables for your fidusuckers to rest and breed in; the cash spawned from selling off the young helps keep you out of debt. Having spent the last few sweeps training up on Fiduspawn has left you sort of inept when it comes to hand to hand combat, and you have all but assigned your strife specibus to fiduskind. You have so many monsters that you can afford to pit them against other trolls! What? That's unethical? Pfff, what the hell are ethics?

Insofar as trolls go, you're... pretty sane! You haven't killed anyone, or even mauled them; you attended your schoolfeeding sessions regularly, have been doing research into the career you wish to pursue in the Fleet, and even have your own pseudoshipping wall constructed for when you find yourself needing to fill your quadrants. But when it comes to interacting with other trolls... well, you're sort of a huge gossip and flirt. It's true that most trolls are fairly reserved about their quadrants, but you? Subtlety flies out the window. You'll hit on anything that moves, especially if you're drunk, and you tend to have a hilarious bias towards those on the indigo and purple end of the spectrum. Hah, rareCatch? More like goldDigger.

Your trollTag is rareCatch and you ~~~~ (encl(o)se things in balls t(o) mimic the (o)nes y(o)u thr(o)w ar(o)und all day!)

DETAILS:
AGE: 9 Sweeps
NAME: Acrire from "acrid", Rageni from "vinegar" spelt backwards.
BLOOD: #008080, hue 180, tealblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: ~~~~ prefix before all sentences, (sentences in brackets), O/o -> (O)/(o).
LUSUS: Giant insect-like desert-dwelling monster.
STRIFE SPECIBUS: fidusKind
SGRUB TITLE: Mage of Rage (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Loyalty and Vinegar
SGRUB MOON: Prospit

MAYANO YAXCHE: triggerHappy

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Your name is Mayano Yaxche, you are 9 sweeps old, and you're more robot than troll.

Yes, you do seem to have an impressive collection of robotic limbs, don't you? You can explain, you swear. They're simply… souvenirs, from your many, many FLARP outings. Of which there have been many. In fact, you even run your own elite FLARP squadron! Sure, you might have lost more than a few body parts to monsters and/or other trolls, but your stats have never been better. You have all the levels! All of them!!

…Okay, maybe not all of them. You don't have any vision 8fold to manipulate enemies off cliffs for easy wins, so you guess you're stuck brawling it out with your pistolKind and fistKind. Sometimes you get badly hurt, but if you wind up sans a limb, you just get a robotic replacement! It's not like flesh is worth anything. Or, well, much at all is worth anything. Except life. You've seen far too many trolls you liked or admired fall in combat to underestimate the value of life. Whereas other FLARP captains might not give much of a damn if a couple of their team members snuff it, you have an unhealthy preoccupation with keeping those you love alive, right down to the most useless members of your FLARP group. In truth, this is where your injuries come from: before you adopted this attitude, you barely had a scratch on you.

You don't really want to talk about it, but you used to be pretty ruthless. Then, you fell for someone!… then he died. Quite horribly. In combat. It was mostly your fault. Since then you've been nothing but remorseful, hellbent on stopping anyone else from dying, afraid that you'll lose anyone else. Your guilt complex is so large that you're willing to sacrifice your own life to save someone else, although your team keeps dragging you from the jaws of death. It's gotten to the point that your FLARP class has changed from "Space Captain" to "Dumbfuck Deathseeker".

But hey, nobody wants to hear about your personal woes! You've got to think positive! Act positive. That's why you smear on a cheery face and chirpy tone at all times, even if you might be feeling pretty wretched that day. If you break a bone, well, just gotta suck it up and grin on anyway. The only thing that would make you really sad is if your horn broke, but that's because you're proud of it- it grows in a continuous loop behind your head, and you think it's the coolest. Sooo coool. Wait, hold on, interests! You have to talk about those. That should distract people from your weird pseudomasochism. Okay, let's see.

You like watching sports, particularly FLARP tourneys, and your favorite genre of movie is ones about space pilots. You think they're the coolest!! You're going to be one some day, you just know it. You often try making your own FLARP costumes, but you're not very good at it, so they just fall to rags. Sometimes your neighbour takes pity on you and makes you some, but she always makes them so... girly. Not that you have a problem with that, but frills and shit tend to get in the way! Half the time your carnivorous lusus just ends up dragging your clothes off to it's bed anyway. Sigh. You'd go retrieve them, but your lusus scares you shitless. No, really. Thing's the size of a truck. Fuck your life.

Your trollTag is triggerHappy, and you e(nclose your sentences in your loopy hor)n!

DETAILS:
AGE: 9 Sweeps
NAME: Mayano from Persona 2's Maya Amano, Yaxche from the Mayan/Aztec tree of the dead.
BLOOD: #002b80, hue 220, blueblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: Sentences enclosed in brackets with the exception of first and last letters.
LUSUS: Tiger-hornet
STRIFE SPECIBUS: revolverKind, prsthticKind
SGRUB TITLE: Bard of Space (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Print and Frogs
SGRUB MOON: Prospit

RONINA LOKINE: halcyonRags

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Your name is Ronina Lokine, you are 8 sweeps old, and you live a double life.

You were hatched into the upper echelons of blueblood culture, which is to say you were hatched into a culture of backstabbing, hypocrisy and musclebeast portraits. Not only that, but you also had the misfortune of being a shy, withdrawn personality with a lusus who couldn't defend you against anything but a rabbit. Things weren't looking good for you, especially when you somehow managed to make the stupid choice of building your hive smack in the middle of a snooty highblood neighbourhood. So what could you do?

You learnt to become a doormat, pacifying your neighbours instead of standing your ground. Secretly, you loved fashion, you loved non-violent roleplaying, and you thought quite a few lowbloods were pretty cute- but in order to appease the cull happy and murderous backstabbers you were surrounded by, you hid your interests behind lock and key and put on a facade of being dull as dishwater. Your demeanor was glacial, your evenings spent helping your neighbours out with menial chores, and you never really got the opportunity to live the good life.

So you... devised an alternate solution. If you couldn't go roaming and seeing the world, you'd do it by proxy. You borrowed a robot from a female mechanic neighbour, learned the basics of robotics, and tuned it up to look like you. With a camera in it's head and a carefully tailored dress on it's metal hide, it was now your duplicate: your method of doing dramatic things, and you called it Lolita Rocket. Well, perhaps you should call it she? It did have rudimentary AI, after all, but nothing that didn't make it 100% loyal to you.

You used Lolita to fly around the world, watching through the camera as she swooped over mountains with her rocket feet and peered in the windows of other troll's hives. Voyeuristic? Yes, probably. But it's not like anyone would catch you. You sent her to record footage of other trolls while you spent your mundane life pacifying your neighbours, and delighted in watching the playback in the solitude of your hive. Yet, recently... the concept of becoming a robot yourself has started to appeal... hmm...

Your trolltag is halcyonRags, and you speak with a polite and clipped tone, if you don't mind. would pestering please stop, if that's not too much to ask.

DETAILS:
AGE: 9 Sweeps
NAME: Ronina from the Japanese "ronin", Lokine from "locket" or "locked away".
BLOOD: #000080, hue 240, blueblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: lowercase, ends sentence with "if you don't mind", "if you please", or "if that's not too much to ask".
LUSUS: Silent Hill 2 styled mannequin
STRIFE SPECIBUS: needleKind
SGRUB TITLE: Sylph of Breath (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Frost and Knowledge
SGRUB MOON: Derse

CSETJE ZSEBET: riposteRevenge

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Your name is Csetje Zsebet, you are 9.5 sweeps old, and you are fucking glorious.

Your blood has ruled your life ever since you were a wiggler, and for a very obvious reason- you suffer from Alternian Cluckpox, a highly recessive trait carried by the Bloodbaronesses of olden days. Once considered an attractive feature hundreds of sweeps ago due to it being an indicator of indigo caste, troll society quickly came to it's senses and began to revile it due to the fact it covers the sufferer's body with hundreds of blood colored blotches. Your blood is obvious to anyone who looks at you, rendering it impossible to hide your spectrum position, and your theoretically pretty features are marred by the patches of pigmentation. In this circumstance you had only two options- to slather on makeup and pretend that you weren't deformed, or to obsess over them as a sign of your noble heritag and turn up your nose at any mockery. You chose the latter.

Emulating your ancestors is your life goal, and you have shaped your entire being around living up to the Bloodbaroness ideal. You revere the hemospectrum like it's a religion- which it probably is, to you- and attempt to cull anyone who disrespects it, taking your aristocratic position very seriously. Your posture is perfect, your manners well-practised; you adore cultured past-times like duels and operas, and even the most boring of tasks like writing out commands please you due to how dignified they make you feel. In fact, even though you were born with a fairly common accent, you have spent sweeps refining your Bloodbaroness pronounciations. This has pretty much made you sound like a stereotypical Rainbow Drinker from those awful novels, but you refuse to change.

You are wickedly cruel to the lower classes and pander shamelessly to the upper. Since your attitude to the gutterbloods has made you quite a few enemies, you hone your skills with the traditional Baroness sabre every night. Your swordfighting ability, at least your specific style of it, is second to none, and you'll hold a duel with anyone who offers to exhibit your prowess. Why, you're not bragging- you're just continuing on your ancestry! You carry yourself with a stoic nature all the time, attempting to almost never show your emotions, but in truth you are far easier to provoke than you think. You attempt to possess as much dignity as possible in every situation, but anything that makes you uncomfortable such as romance tends to turn you into a stuttering mess.

Your frame reflects your heritage as a baroness, although sometimes you wish it didn't. You are incredibly tall for a female, with the top of your head brushing the 6'2 mark and your long horns increasing that to a total of seven feet. There is absolutely no excess fat on your frame, nor are there any curves; you are lean, with a flat chest and slender limbs, and any padding on that is sheer muscle. You wear your hair short in heavily styled curls- long hair just doesn't suit you, much to your distress. When it comes to your wardrobe you place emphasis on your aristocracy, opting for sweeping capes and long dresses (although you apparently have no qualms about showing skin, perhaps in a desperate attempt to make yourself feel attractive). Your sign, the traditional mark of the cluckpox sufferer, is displayed prominently on your belt buckle.

Your trollTag is riposteRevenge, and you talk vith ze mozst dignified accent you can think of, zat of ze ancient nobletrollzs you zshare a bloodline vith!

DETAILS:
AGE: 9.5 Sweeps
NAME: Csetje from the Csejte Castle, Zsebet from Elizabeth Bathory's Hungarian name.
BLOOD: #2b0080, hue 260, indigoblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: W/w -> v, phonetic th -> z, S/s -> ZS/zs.
LUSUS: Swordfish
STRIFE SPECIBUS: bladeKind (sabreKind)
SGRUB TITLE: Thief of Life (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Pyre and Midnight
SGRUB MOON: Derse

BALORA XOLOTL: comebackReplicant

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Your name is Balora Xolotl, you are 9 sweeps old, and you are so incredibly sorry.


DETAILS:
AGE: 9 Sweeps
NAME: Balora from "baleen" and "Balor", Xolotl from "axolotl".
BLOOD: #550080, hue 280, purpleblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: Lowercase, no punctuation, cuts up sentences with // two words at a time.
LUSUS: Giant anemone
STRIFE SPECIBUS: wireKind
SGRUB TITLE: Prince of Doom (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Thunder and Ghosts
SGRUB MOON: Derse

KAPALA HYNOMU: celebrityTraitor

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Your name is Kapala Hynomu, you are 8.5 sweeps old, and fuck everyone.

You weren't always this way. In fact, if you rewind the clock back a mere half-sweep ago, you were possibly the most social troll anyone had ever met. You were a partier, a glubgrub at home in the company of others, and making close friends amongst your peers came as easily as swimming to you. In fact, it came a little too easily- you were notorious for extending your friendliness to every single member of the aquatic castes, and even when you were violently you still kept up a perky demeanor. After all, why wouldn't you? Everyone loved you! You held the best parties, you always had the best gossip, and you even had the best collection of salvaged trinkets from sunken ships and treasure chests that anyone had ever seen.

But it all came crumbling down. Because you got a little too loose with your gossip, and a little too careless with your quadrants, and never stopped to think about the consequences of either; you lived for the present, assuming the future would never come. But it did. Your tendency of forming relationships on a whim and then abruptly dumping them when they got boring came back to bite you when all your exes teamed up in a mission to smear your name, accompanied by all the so called "friends" who had told you their secrets and then been heartbroken to know that you had told others behind their backs. Despite the vast network of buddies that you thought you had built up, it seemed like everywhere you turned was another bitter enemy wishing malaise upon you. Humiliated in public as the embarrassing secrets you told your exes were spread across the social circles, widely mocked as that one pathetic hoarder by your former admirers, and even having suffered a few direct attacks on your life, you gave up and went into exile.

Your normally bright and cheerful underwater hive, perpetually lit up by a series of floodlights intended to guide people to the main party chamber, had it's power cut. Anyone who came to taunt you in person was met with empty rooms and a pronounced hollowness. The lush kelp gardens were left to grow over, missing the attentions of your giant isopod lusus. Instead, you dove down, and dove deeper- you sunk into the abysses of the great chasms, home to some of the most terrifying sea creatures Alternia had to offer. Fortunately, your lusus was one of these, and it kept you safe while you built yourself a new hive.

This one was more sinister, more imposing than your last. It was a grand amalgamation of spires and spikes, the most diabolical castle you could build from scratch- it was a good thing you were born with freakish strength, or else your hive would still be incomplete. You stole an internet cable from an unsuspecting neighbour and rigged it up, using most of the power from your old hive's generator to fuel an impenetrable forcefield that repelled both trolls and sea monsters alike. While your lusus swam back and forth, catching critters for you to feed on, you went online for the first time- and you started to socialize with the land dwelling castes.

Your interests include architecture and hoarding. You have always been very structurally-minded, even when you were a partier- your raves were always meticulously planned out, and you'd construct houses out of empty drink bottles as a party trick. Nowadays you use your skills to build onto your hive, constantly building new parts onto the massive castle. As for your second hobby, well, you've always been intrigued by random things. Not trash, mind you, but bits and bobs that shouldn't be lying on the sea floor. Ornate cutlery that looks like it came from the land dwellers, fine works of art, even chests containing items from old ancestors... it fascinates you, and a great deal of your massive is occupied by brilliantly organized collections of these things. If you knew anything about SGRUB, you would be amused that your collection would put you at a great advantage when it came to alchemization. As it is, you're a little ashamed of it.

Your trollTag is celebrityTraitor, and you glub in a somewhat stuttttering, way. You also make sure to duplicate any double letttters and shout poles/query, hooooks. And you can't stop the, glubs????

DETAILS:
AGE: 8.5 Sweeps
NAME: Both names or part of names of giant isopods.
BLOOD: #800080, hue 300, purpleblood caste
TYPING QUIRK: Quadruples any instance of double letters and punctuation, adds a comma before the last word of a sentence.
LUSUS: Giant isopod
STRIFE SPECIBUS: clubKind
SGRUB TITLE: Maid of Mind (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Bubble and Gaps
SGRUB MOON: Derse

SCYLLA ERMINE: terminatedRegent

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Your name is Scylla Ermine, you are 12 sweeps old, and you are really quite famous.

Your life has not been the nicest, and yet you have spent the vast majority of it in an euphoric delirium. With a blood hue of 320, you were born into the royal caste, and had things gone correctly you would surely have grown into a refined lady of court. Unfortunately, that didn't quite happen. Why? Well, the reason was none other than your wonderful lusus. An enormous octopus, to be exact, a gluttonous and selfish creature with the ability to control the mind of whoever it happened to share it's blood color with. It threw your future away in favor of turning you into a cannibalistic monster, a method of delivering it the tasty troll flesh it so craved without having to actually go hunting for itself.

You survived exactly four sweeps underwater, using the facts that you were an adorable wiggler and your peers were quite dumb to hide your murders, but as your lusus took more control over your brain you lost your lucidity and became sloppy. You were caught, your fins were severed, and you were subjected to the ultimate humiliation a seadweller could suffer- you were exiled from the entire spectrum by your former aquatic peers, and sent to live with your lusus in one of the most disgusting environments on Alternia. The swamps.

The picture that might come to one's mind when they hear swamp is "gross and boring", but only the former was true for the mires of Alternia. The swamp was a vast, impenetrable mess of warped trees and disturbed wildlife, an environment so savage that very few trolls even contemplated living in it. If the filthy conditions and poisonous plants didn't do you in, the animals would- while there might have been no musclebeasts running rampant, there were plenty of many-eyed and many-armed monstrocities all too willing to gobble a young wiggler up. Yet somehow, you managed to survive.

Alright, so perhaps it wasn't such a miracle you survived, what with your freakish strength and equally freakish lusus. You took up home in a cave on the borders of the swamp, with your octopus settling into an underground grotto, and spent seven whole sweeps being one of the terrors of Alternian youth culture. With your mind firmly controlled by your lusus, every waking moment was spent in a mad delirium- you had been taught to savor the taste of troll flesh, to derive joy from murdering them and delivering their bones to the grotto. You took up juvenile activities to amuse yourself when you weren't hunting, such as painting and roleplaying, but nobody ever talked to you on the introllnet. Not that you minded! Too much. You tried your best to make friends, but it inevitably ended with them blocking you or being eaten by you once they told you where they lived, and the drones gave up trying to hunt you down for quadrants when it became explicitly clear you had hidden yourself so deep in the swamps that nothing could retrieve you.

With your diet of troll flesh, and your natural seadweller genes, your growth accelerated to the point where you were brushing 6'7- and that's not even taking into account your horns, which were so tall that birds sometimes perched on them by mistake. Your strength only grew, to the point where you could scale mountains and throw boulders with ease, but your mental state never grew beyond that of a woofbeast dedicated to it's master. This backfired on you when you picked a fight with a freakishly strong troll and lost spectacularly, tearing your right leg off in the process. You strapped a pegleg to the stump and made do, although you had a hard time not going "arrrr" every time you looked at it.

But then, you met with a rather bizarre accident- or rather, your lusus did. You came back one day to find him butchered, and since then, you really haven't known what you're supposed to do with yourself...

Your trollTag is terminatedRegent, and you h{a}ve a pretty silly {a}nd so~rt o~f tent{a}cley w{a}y o~f spe{a}king!!!

DETAILS:
AGE: 12 Sweeps
NAME: Come on.
BLOOD: #800055, hue 320, purpleblood caste (exiled from hemospectrum)
TYPING QUIRK: A/a -> {A}/{a}, O/o -> {O}/{o}.
LUSUS: Giant octopus
STRIFE SPECIBUS: fistKind, bladeKind
SGRUB TITLE: Witch of Time (alpha group)
SGRUB LAND: Land of Glory and Despair
SGRUB MOON: Derse

[immortalMemelizer]

>Be the smartass shoe bitch.

Watch who you're callin' names, sweetie! Heeheehee!

Your name is DOLCEA LACENS, you are 8.5 sweeps old, and boy, do you love SHOES. Your shoes are amazing, and you have a wide variety of them. It is sort of a hobby of yours to collect and improve upon all kinds of footwear. After you get a pair of shoes, you typically alter them so they were better than they were in the first place. The shoes you love the most though, are shoes with HEELS. This makes sense, as your strife specibus is heelKind.

It has been said that you have an EGO larger than the combined mass of both moons, and you know what? That's probably true. You almost constantly demand attention through your ATTITUDE. While you have been known to COMPLAIN a lot, you are also good at dealing with the circumstances you are in.

Your lusus is a PEACOCK, and taught you all the most important things in life. Which, to you, largely consist of STRUTTING AROUND and LOOKING PRETTY. Even though you have goldenrod blood, you believe you were meant to be born as a blueblood. You tend to MOCK others quite often, and sometimes you can be A BIT TOO TOUCHY.

You have no REAL MATESPRIT, but you have your eyes set on this one guy you've known since you were grubs. Despite the fact he AVOIDS YOU LIKE THE PLAGUE, and his friends have told you he IS NOT INTERESTED, you know he's fibbing. He's just not ready to fill his quadrants yet because he's too shy! You know that one day he'll be ready for you, and when that day comes, YOU'LL BE WAITING. You just wish his stupid friends would stop calling you a STALKER. Can't they see you were MEANT TO BE? They're just jealous. They don't know him like you do! They probably just WANT YOU FOR THEMSELVES.

You have no moirail or auspices, but your CALIGINOUS quadrant is quite busy! While as of the moment you don't have a DEFINED KISMEISIS, you certainly have a lot of hopefuls. How strange! What is there about you to possibly HATE? Oh well! Either way, you're a bit of a FLOOZY when it comes to kismeisises.

You have a PSYCHIC POWER as well, but as for now it is a SECRET.

Your trollian handle is prestigiousAglet, and you often use annoyingly familiar nicknames, sweetPea, and tend to come off as Pretty Pretentious.


TL;DR:

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Name: Dolcea Lacens
Age: 8.5 sweeps
Blood color: e7c502 Goldenrod
Quirk: Uses overly familiar nicknames, always capitalizes 'P', replaces 'God' with 'Prada' and 'Ugh' with 'Ugg'.
Trollian handle: prestigiousAglet
Symbol: Peacock
Lusus: Peacockmom
Strife specibus: heelKind

[Pandemonius]

Huh. Did I never post Cibuss here? This must be remedied.

>Be the food service drone.

(]Hey/fuck/you/man.[)

>Sorry. Be the embarrassment to seadwellers everywhere.

(]That's/not/better./That's/not/better/at/all.[)



((I am the worst person ever at drawing aprons.))

Your name is CIBUSS ESCLAV, and you deserve better than this.

As was pointed out, you are a seadweller. However, you are rather unlike most seadwellers. You're not very good at fighting. You're not especially clever. You're certainly not charismatic. Indeed, it wouldn't be inaccurate to say that you are ASTOUNDINGLY MEDIOCRE in almost every conceivable way, a fact that has earned you no small amount of scorn from your fellow seadwellers. Since most of them treat you like shit, you're usually fairly quick to pull the hemospectrum card on anyone lower than you, and take a great deal of pleasure in what power you have.

Due to your rather lacking skillset, you have been given no other choice but to join the Alternian Food Service, working as a FRY DRONE. That's right, no clever murder pun or anything. The AFS is the laughingstock of the empire, where only the sorriest excuses for trolls are placed. But you won't let that stop you. You may be the lowest of the high, but you'll claw your way to the highest of the low or (more likely) die trying. As such, you have studied the ins and outs of cooking ever since you came to that conclusion, and you've gotten quite good at it, though you never get a chance to show it off at work no matter how much you plead with the manager.

As is standard issue for your occupation, you use the REGISTER MODUS, which orders a random meal whenever you try to remove something and deploys a cash register. Once you type out the exact cost of the meal, the item is released.

Your underwater hive is protected by your giant SEA ANEMONE lusus, who is probably the most awesome thing that ever happened to you. ANEMOMMY paralyzes anything that gets near your hive, catching you easy meals, and is probably a major reason you haven't been culled yet.

Your trolltag is fatfriedConquerer and you (]Tend/to/kind/of/sandwich/your/words/together.[)

tl;dr

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Name: Cibuss Esclav
Age: 7 Sweeps
Blood/Text Color: Purple (#8c008c)
Symbol: Sea Salt (hoo hoo hoo)
Trolltag: fatfriedConquerer
Strife Specibus: Spatulakind
Fetch Modus: Register
Quirk: Begins and ends with hamburger buns; replaces spaces with slashes.

[Steev]

>Be the. . . wait, why is there a bear trap on her head.

Your name is Rizari Nazare. You are 6 SOLAR SWEEPS old and you are ADORABLE! You live with your GIANT PISTOL SHRIMP lusus in your UNDERWATER HIVE which you constructed entirely on your own. Sort of. Also, see all that stuff stuck to your head? It's PRETTY PECULIAR to most trolls. But not to you! These fixings are a symbol of your heritage in the HIGH ORDER OF XENOPHYTES. This order, in which only your caste takes membership, acts as PERSONAL BODYGUARDS to the Empress and pledge their undying devotion to her.

You REALLY ENJOY SHARP THINGS! Yay! They're the prettiest, and they make you feel beautiful. Plus, they are so much FUN to stick onto yourself! You would replace your own head with a spiked flail if you could.

Anyway! You also enjoy keeping PETS! You don't make FRIENDS, just pets. Your favorite pets are lowbloods who SHOW YOU RESPECT and BRING YOU THINGS. Especially sharp things. You tend to play really strange DOMINANCE GAMES with your pets, alternately treating them as property and allowing them to ask ANYTHING of you.

Your original hive wasn't FITTING TRIBUTE to the Concesce, whom you regard as basically a DEITY and as the wellspring of all progress and prosperity for your race. Your new hive is made of recycled items like cans and bottles, because they define your loyalty. Most importantly, when you rebuilt your hive you created and installed a GIANT STAINED GLASS WINDOW of the Empress constructed from BROKEN GLASS which is actually kind of tacky. However, you think it is THE BEST THING. You kiss the feet of the stained-glass Empress each time you leave your hive. Oh, SWEET EMPRESS.

You're an EXCEPTIONAL HEMOLOYALIST! You believe not only that lowbloods are inferior, but also that your FELLOW SEADWELLERS must be policed. Laziness and indolence are RAMPANT among the upper classes, and such behavior is contrary to the Condesce. You also embrace this idea in regards to the LOWER CASTES, but of course all trolls with yellow or lower blood are TREASONOUS BY NATURE. You don't really care about their BULLSHIT ANTICS as much because of this super obvious and undeniably true FACT. You also try to indoctrinate any WIGGLERS you come across - loyalty to the empire must be built on a strong foundation.

Your strife specibus is adhesiveKind, but you strongly prefer to fight hand-to-hand with YOUR OWN BODY as your weapon - it is much more deadly than your specibus. You use the ENGRAVING fetch modus. By carving the outline of the item-to-be-retrieved into any surface, your modus attempts to regurgitate the item that most closely matches your outline.

You are basically the bane of all fine wooden furnishings.

> Get real with us about some stuff, big lady.

You are rather BIPOLAR. One minute you might be fighting, and the next minute you might be calling your opponent a "BUTT" and asking why they were being so mean to you. You have no qualms with SELF-MUTILATION, and even seem to view it as a PRIVILEGE and a thing to be PROUD OF. One time, your kismesis STOLE YOUR TIBIA but you went ahead and replaced it with a METAL PIPE right there! Yay surgery! You even seem to derive a strange sort of PLEASURE from acquiring injuries while fighting.

When you really GET INTO a fight, your mind tends to go blank, you fall completely silent, you wear the widest of grins, and you let your instincts take over. All is nothing. The drums in your mind thump ever louder, ever faster. They goad you on. They govern your movements. They rule your frame. They control the swift strikes of every limb. They command everything that you are. The rhythm of the drums in your head echo through your empty skull. Murder consumes your person. Your only goals are to kill, to kill swiftly, to kill now. And kill you shall. It's sort of terrifyiokay fine it's TERRIBLE TO BEHOLD AND THOSE WHO HAVE SEEN YOUR TRUE FACE SHALL BE HAUNTED, STALKED, EVER PURSUED BY IT UNTIL THEIR INESCAPABLE DISEMBOWELMENT AT YOUR HANDS. YOU WILL EAT THEIR SOUL. YOU WILL CONSUME THEIR PERSON. ALL IS DUST BEFORE YOU.

You also have the cutest little puckery fish face sometimes! Glub glub!

Your trolltag is urchinsEmbodiment and you re~places "s" with "sz", "z" with "zs", and usze tildesz to szplit up wordsz. And fiszh punsz! Lotsz of thosze! Glub!

full profile/mirror/tl;dr information here, this one was shortened and edited slightly for the forums so there are a few minor details omitted ok thanks for reading

[deadlyInflection]

You are COTULA POFOLI, and you are SEVEN SWEEPS OLD.

Since you were but a grub, you loved nothing more then to TAKE LIVING THINGS APART and install CRUDE MECHANICAL IMPROVEMENTS. You are a SOMEWHAT ABLE MECHANIC, and while you lack the access to good materials and tools that more highblooded machinists have access too, YOUR RESULTS ARE FAIRLY GOOD.

You are a purveyor of fine PROSTHETIC LIMBS, which is a very profitable business, due to your lowblooded farmer contemporaries having a tendency to be VICIOUSLY MUTILATED. However, while you could live comfortably off the caegars you earn, you have a tendency to PISS IT AWAY ON LARGE AMOUNTS OF SCRAP METAL. This did not prove wholly foolish a decision, however, when after a painful FLARPing defeat, you managed to REPLACE YOUR MANGLED LEGS before you had the chance to BLEED TO DEATH. Your legs, while TECHNICALLY FUNCTIONAL, require a large amount of maintenance and DO NOT ALLOW YOU TO RUN.

While you appear inquisitive and aloof, you can often be very cruel to SMALL ANIMALS, using them to practice your trade without worry or care for their ultimate well-being. Thanks to your lowblooded psychic powers, you can PARALYZE BUT NOT ANESTHETIZE small or weak willed creatures. While a more advanced subject like a fellow troll might lead to more successful products, you realize that attempting such would be both DANGEROUS TO YOUR HEALTH and alienate the few contemporaries you consider to be your friends.

You are a staunch Hemoloyalist, recognizing and accepting that you are NEXT TO LOWEST on the spectrum, and will always defer to your superiors. In addition, due to your lack of any functional genitalia, you fear that YOU WILL BE CULLED come time to fill pails. Currently, you seek a remedy to this problem, but you have met with LITTLE TO NO SUCCESS.

Your Lusus is barely recognizable by this point, having endured a lifetime of VIVISECTIONS and CRUDE MECHANICAL REPLACEMENTS making it somewhat resemble the robotic spiderbeast from the classic film Troll Wild Wild West combined with a honey ham. Were it not so overwhelmed by constant suffering and so dependent on your maintenance, it would probably have KILLED YOU MANY SWEEPS AGO.

Your fetch modus is the TOOLBOX modus, and you wield the WRENCHKIND and SCREWDRIVERKIND specibi alternatively. Your trolltag is cantankerousTinker and you speak in a manner that reflects your legs' tendency to Stop. And. Start. From. Faulty. Hydraulics.

Were you to ever participate in a session of Sgrub, your role would be the WITCH OF ORE, and your land would be the LAND OF ALLOY AND TOOLS.

[PriffyViole]

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Trollifying Space Core. LET'S DO THIS.

> Be the space-loving lowblood.

SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAACE!



Your name is Akkash Cosmos (From Akash, meaning "Open space/sky" and Cosmos) and you are 10 sweeps old. But that's not important. What's important is you're finally going to SPACE!!!

Ever since you were a wiggler, you have always loved space. It's so big and cool and stuff. So when your highblooded friend said your telekinesis would get you into space, you squealed like a fangirl meeting her favorite character of her favorite story in real life. Your lusus, what a human would call a rabbit, seemed a little shocked at this. You ignored him and began packing your things for your eventual trip to space.

You wouldn't know that you would be used as an engine until it was too late.

Your interests were looking at space, reading about space, watching tv shows about space, and thinking about space. You don't really like the hemospectrum very much, though. You think everyone should just be friends.

Your Strife Specibus is catapaultKind. You bought some catapaults from your adventurous green-blooded friend to try to launch yourself into space.

Your fetch modus is Queue because you couldn't be bothered to learn to use anything else.

Your trolltag is spaceExplorer and did you mention how much you love space!?

If you played sgrub, you'd be the Heir of Space in the Land of Frogs and Spirals.

[Nexev]

Poor girl, helmsman is a shit fate.

[Thunder Reign]

HOW TO MAKE A GOOD FANTROLL: A SIMPLE GUIDE: REVISED

0. BASIC FANTROLL RULES

1. Never have your fantrolls interacting with canon beyond fleeting references. Your fantroll should not be Eridan's matesprit or Karkat's kismesis or the apprentice of Mindfang or anything like that. It's an automatic way to rocket straight to Number One Mary Sue status instantly.
2. Trolls should be between hue 0 and hue 329. Feferi is the only troll who has ever been born with hue 330, the highest ever.
3. Gamzee is the highest land dweller, at hue 270. Thus, seadwellers are blood hue 270+.
4. Only trolls with blood hues 270+ are seadwellers. On the same note, all land dwellers have blood hues equal to or under 270.
5. Karkat is the only troll who has had bright red blood. Don't give your fantroll bright red blood.
6. Highbloods with psychic powers are excruciatingly rare. Vriska is the exception, not the rule.
7. Kanaya is the only troll to ever have had a Virgin Mother Grub lusus.
8. However, she is not the only jadeblood in existence! Jadebloods are rare, but there are more than just Kanaya.
9. Trolls do not know what humans are. The canon trolls only knew about the kids once they entered the Veil.


I. DESIGN

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Trolls are not fashionable by nature. Looking in canon, we see that the most trolls do to their appearance is black shirts and minor differences. Kanaya's red skirt, Vriska's red shoes, Sollux's two-toned shoes, Tavros' button-up shirt, etc. The exception to this appears to be seadwellers. When making a troll, don't go all out and make them colorful unless you have a very good reason. Liking fashion is rare- see Kanaya. Your troll should probably have mostly black clothes.

Horns are three toned orange. They can be roughly any shape you want, but make them realistic. None of the canon trolls have ridiculous overelaborate horns, so don't give your troll a ridiculous amount of horns. If you are making a troll's ancestor, however, go nuts.

When making your troll's blood, check the hue- this is done by opening up the color/Edit Color tab in Paint or GIMP or Photoshop, it's the box with a number that has "Hue" or "H" besides it. Karkat has 0 hue, and Feferi has either 330 or 220 depending on what program you're using; all canon trolls should fall within these parameters. Trolls are not normally neon-blooded, and if it's above Feferi, the highest known troll, then you've got a Mary Sue/canon breaker on your hands. Trolls who go above this need a very good reason for having it, such as having changed it via bizarre scientific experiments. See the Checking Hue section for an illustrated guide.

Canon has explicitly stated that Feferi is the only troll who has been born with hue 330 blood, the highest ever. Thus, your fantroll should never, ever be born with 330+. The exception to this rule is if you are playing in an alternate universe Alternia, with no Condesce/canon trolls, etc; however, as most fantroll RPs take place in the same continuity as canon, this rule still stands.

The lower your fantroll's blood is, the higher the chance of them having a psychic power; they also have increased chance of being affected by other psychic powers, i.e. mind control. (Vriska can control Tavros but she can't control Feferi.) Higherbloods have psychic resistance but also don't have psychic powers- Vriska was a freak, and probably should not be emulated.

This isn't to say that a highblood shouldn't have a psychic power at all, but remember that highbloods already have the 'power' or privilege of being on the top of the hemospectrum and thus holding more political sway/wealthiness. A highblood who also has a useful psychic power on top of this is quite a big sue! If you want a highblood with a power consider making it either a nigh useless one or an evolutionary adaptation. The key is balance!

Speaking of mutation and psychic abilities, don't make them too overpowered. Vriska's abilities or Sollux's abilities are a good indicator: your troll shouldn't be more powerful than either of them. If you're having trouble figuring out whether your troll is more powerful, then scale them down to the point where you are pretty certain Vriska or Sollux could hand their asses to them on a platter. (In case you're wondering about the justification here: Vriska and Sollux are both overpowered to the point where they would be called out if they were fantrolls. Making your troll less powerful than them is a sure way to know that you aren't making an overpowered character.)

Now, let's talk mutants. Contrary to what some might think, mutation doesn't mean automatic culling! After all, Sollux quite clearly refers to himself as a freakish mutant, but he hasn't been culled. Same with Vriska. That's probably because their mutations are both useful to society and don't go against the natural order of things. However, if your troll has a mutation that deforms them in the eyes of society- see Karkat's candy red blood, or hypothetically speaking tentacles or a horrible appearance- this would be grounds for automatic culling.
Thus, you should be careful when making a "mutant". Karkat's red blood? Very inadvisable to replicate, unless, as above, you're playing an alternate RP where the canon trolls/their ancestors never existed. Tentacles, wings, or extreme oddities like that should also be avoided, since more often than not they're an automatic sue-maker.

There's a lot of confusion about the topic of JADEBLOODS- is Kanaya the only Jadeblood in existence? If so, should jadeblooded fantrolls be considered mary sues on the spot? Not so. If you reread her intro, it states that:

You are one of the few of your kind with JADE GREEN BLOOD. As such you are one of the few who could be selected and raised by a VIRGIN MOTHER GRUB, an event so rare as to elude documented precedent.

Jadebloods are rare, but there are more of them than Kanaya. However! She was the only one to get a virgin mother grub lusus. Which means that if you make a jadeblooded troll with a different lusus, you're in the clear.

And then we get onto "rainbow drinking", and being able to survive in the sun. Canon hasn't clarified the cause of either of these- is Kanaya's new glowing appearance something all jadebloods have the potential to do, or was it caused by Doc Scratch? And can all jadebloods survive in the sun? Personally, I think that her resurrection was Scratch induced, but other people disagree. It's best to steer clear of having your troll be a rainbow drinker anyway- it's really quite Mary Suey. In regards to the sun question, her introduction is sort of unclear on this, but I interpret it as being jadebloods = daylightdwellers, just like purple/pinkbloods = seadwellers. But this is transient! Perhaps the only thing we can agree on is that liking fashion is not a genetically jadeblood trait.

...Hm. Well, I can't avoid mentioning the subjugglator issue, can I?
I call it an issue because, uh, subjugglators sort of throw a big old wrench in the neat hemospectrum balance with their whole psychic power shtick. Lowbloods have psychic powers but also psychic weakness and caste oppression, highbloods have no psychic power/psychic weakness and are rich and influential. But subjugglators? Who are both rich and influential, but also apparently possessing "chucklevoodoos"- the ability to scare people into doing what they want?

To be honest, I'm going to personally say that this is a case where it's alright for a canon character to be a subjugglator, but something that's dreadfully overpowered in a fantroll. Think about that description of a subjugglator I just wrote. Yeah, that's going to be incredibly hard if not impossible to pull off as a proper fantroll character and not just a plot device.
So, call me biased, but I'm going to say this. For the purposes of general roleplay, as in roleplay with other people with other fantrolls, steer far away from making your troll a subjugglator. Too overpowered, and would hardly give any other character a fighting chance. If you really want a subjugglator, then I would urge you to not make them have that psychic power, or at least not have proper control over it.

Okay, back to other stuff.
Your fantroll's quirk should be readable. +|-|15 \/\/I|_|_ |)0 |/|0+|-|1|\|G except make you look like a tool.

Trolls generally choose quirks that relate to either their lusus (Nepeta), their accent (eridan) or a particular interest of theirs (equius- perfection and archery). Seadwellers glub! But there are no hard and fast rules to quirking. The best thing to do is to pick a quirk that you think is unique and that suits your character!

For instance- my seadweller troll Scylla puts {} around her a's and ~ around her o's because she mimics her octopus lusus, and also because it conveys a sense of silliness. A friend of mine's snooty indigo troll, Amazar, CapitaliseS ThE FirsT AnD LasT LetterS OF HiS WordS BecausE HE ThinkS HE IS VerY ImportanT AnD WortH ListeninG TO. And yet another one of my trolls, Mayano, e(nclose)s t(h)e m(iddl)e of her words in brackets because her horns are a circle/continuous loop that goes around her head. These are just examples of what might influence your troll's quirk.
(don't steal mine, please.)

I-2. NAMES

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It is generally accepted practice to name your troll so both their first and last names are 6 letters long. While the 6/6 naming scheme is a 612 reference, overall most fantrollers like the nice sense of unity and neatness that naming by the 6/6 scheme brings.

Trolls names are derived from a number of sources- mythological gods and goddesses, words from foreign languages, the scientific names of animals/plants, and even people in real life. Although you can just make your troll's names up out of the blue, you might want to take a stab at giving them names that have some sort of meaning first. It's fun!

For example: Let's say you have a troll who has a tiger for a lusus and is something of an asshole. We'd search for things relating to tigers- tiger gods, tiger scientific names. The species name for "tiger" is Tigris, which is six letters. Bam, we have our first name! Next, the asshole part. We can look for gods who were notorious for being dicks, or we can try looking for the translation of "mean" or "annoying" in other languages. Just by plugging "annoying" into Google Translate, we see that the translation is "ennuyeux". Cut that up to "Ennuye", and we have our second name!
Tigris Ennuye. It's that easy.

Ancestors tend to have 8/8 letter titles. The Summoner, The Disciple, The Dolorosa, The Condesce, The Orphaner Dualscar, The Marquise Mindfang, The Handmaid Demoness, etc.

II. TERMINOLOGY

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Trolls sleep in recuperacoons. Bathtubs are "ablution traps" refridgerators are "thermal hulls" and toilets are "load gapers"- only lowbloods use those terms, though, or at least people who don't care about being snooty.

Trolls use "god". They do not use "gog". If you don't believe me, go back and check canon troll pesterlogs- the only uses of "gog" are in reference to Terezi and her SBAHJ-ing.

The unit of currency on Alternia is the caegar, seen in Terezi's LARPing introduction.

Parts of troll anatomy include:
The bone bulge/nook: Commonly used to refer to genitalia.
Cartilage nub: Variable meaning- possibly nose?
Lookstubs: Possibly eyes.
Lobe stem: Variable meaning.
Chitinous windhole: Possibly trachea.
Protein chute: Possibly oesophagus.
Auricular sponge clots: Possibly ears/eardrums.
Think pans: Mind. Possibly "brain" as well, although Sollux's land would imply that trolls call brains... brains.
Seadwellers apparently have a "collapsing and expanding bladder based aquatic vascular system" in place of a heart. Trolls all have uniformly grey skin, naturally black lips, and their teeth/horns grow back if broken.

Troll movies have very literal and longwinded names, while TV shows are shorter (i.e. thresh prince of bel air). Trolls don't know what CDs are, as their games come in the form of grubs- see the shit scattered on Sollux's floor, and Karkat's "Game Grub" magazine. They do know what records are. Trolls call their computers "computers", but they call laptops "husktops". If you want to make your troll have some form of new technology, remember that it's probably going to be insectile/grub based and possibly include mind honey mainframes.

Animals tend to get names like "hoofbeast" (horse) and "musclebeast" (see equius's walls), but they also are referred to as more common names like... horse and cuttlefish and cat and spider and bull. So feel free to just call a tiger a tiger or a mouse a mouse. Squirrels are called nutbeasts and not squirrels though, we know that from a throwaway line from >Return to the core.

III. ALTERNIAN AND FLEET LIFE

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Alternia is a harsh place, and your troll MUST be able to defend themselves. Sweet-hearted pacifists are sitting ducks- for a canon example, see Nepeta and Feferi. Nepeta needed Equius to stop her affectionate nature from getting her killed, even though she could defend herself, and Feferi's monster lusus is the only reason she wasn't D---EAD a long time ago. Not to say that your troll has to be a murderous monster- hey, look at Tavros- but they have to be a bit more ruthless than the average human. If your troll cannot defend themselves, acknowledge this as being very detrimental to their health!

There is nothing more irritating than a sweet and kindly troll who wouldn't hurt a fly and the creator actually expects them to be able to survive on Alternia.

Trolls do not know what humans are. Let me repeat this: Trolls do not know what humans are. The only way the canon trolls knew about humans is because of Bec Noir screwing things up at the very end of their SGRUB session- it would take something as convoluted as that for your fantroll to come into contact with them, so it's best not to bother. Remember, trolls have dominated a lot of alien planets! If you want your fantroll to be influenced by "another culture", so to speak, perhaps try your hand at creating a new race of aliens for them to imitate?

Your troll's lusus has the same blood color as them, they are normally of the same gender, and they are pretty much just weirdass animals. Trolls cannot be lusii themselves. Lusii range from affectionate to murderous, but they all have some degree of maternal/paternal instinct in them.

Trolls live in varying locations based on their caste. They are not as social as humans, living in many environments, and it's not abnormal for a troll to live completely isolated from any nearby society. You can say your troll lives absolutely anywhere on the planet and get away with it, from the tops of the mountains to the bottoms of the lowest sea chasms. Here are some examples of where trolls live in canon:

Lowbloods live in lawnrings, which appear to be the troll equivalent of suburbs.
They can also live rurally, like Aradia or Tavros, or even in a cave/forest like Nepeta and Terezi.
Hivestem cities appear to be clusters of apartment-style hives, presumably home to low-middleclassbloods like Sollux.
Bluebloods live in castles.
Hypothetically, jadebloods live in the desert. This is not confirmed as being a pattern, though.
Seadwellers live underwater, or in locations very close to the water's edge.

Trolls do not really care that much about killing someone else, on a general basis, and if you kill someone there aren't any repercussions except their friends maybe coming to take you down. It isn't uncommon for a troll to have a bodycount! But, if your troll has one in the hundreds or thousands, that miiiight be an indicator they're a bit overpowered. How did they kill all those trolls?

FLEET LIFE

When trolls hit adulthood- the fanon age for this is 10 sweeps- they are automatically recruited into the Space Military. You cannot usually avoid this. The only way to theoretically avoid being recruited would be to hide somewhere so harsh that the recruiters (robots? drones) wouldn't think to look for you, like a harsh mountaintop or the depths of a monstrous Alternian swamp. Something like that. For the vast majority of trolls, however, they will be joining the Fleet.

We know very little about the Fleet. What we do know is that some or all psionically powerful lowbloods are forced into becoming ship engines, which would be intensely painful! Honestly, at this point, you can pretty much say anything (within reason). Your blueblood troll becomes a general? Yeah, sure. Your redblood troll is condemned to the Meat Grinder, a unit of lowblood fighters who are expected to die? Sure.

LIFESPANS

Redbloods? Canon says they live for 12-24 sweeps. To put it in human terms, that means they die on average around the age of 40.
Bluebloods? Mindfang said she was going to wait for hundreds of sweeps for the Summoner- thus, their lifespans are probably something like 500 to 600 sweeps. From this, we can deduce that as you go up the hemospectrum, lifespans grow.

IV. CHECKING HUE (section courtesy of scientificBlues!)

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To check the hue of a color in MS Paint:

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Double click on the color in your palette bar.


It should bring up the Edit Colors window. We want to press 'Define Custom Colors', which will expand the window to the right.


We have two things we're looking at here.


The highlighted number here is the hue of the color. Simple!


The highlighted area here is another way to reckon hue- you can see in this image that I have it set at Feferi's color. The selector should almost always be on the left side of this point.

Congratulations! You have a hue now.

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To check the hue of a color in Photoshop:

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Click on the color in your toolbar to open up the Color Picker window.


We have two things we're looking at here.

The highlighted number here is the hue of the color. Simple!


The highlighted area here is another way to reckon hue- you can see in this image that I have it set at Feferi's color. The selector should almost always be lower than this point.

Congratulations! You have a hue now.

Here is a list of canon troll hues in hemo-order, so you know roughly where your troll falls. Some of them are slightly off here- I know Nepeta's is, at the very least, but they're roughly accurate.

*Karkat's blood should, following the astrological order and the 30 degree rule, fall here.
**Karkat's blood, due to his mutation, actually falls here instead. Try to keep your 0 degree trolls closer to Aradia's 0 than Karkat's!

V. WHAT NOT TO DO: COMMON SPRITING PITFALLS

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This image is a compilation of some of the most common errors in troll making. Let's go through them and see what the problems are, hmm?

1. This image serves to illustrate a single very important point: Use a base sheet. One can be found in the first post of the Trollslum Profile Thread, and it's easy to use even with Paint.

2. Oh boy, let's split this up!

First offense: The fashion. Trolls like black, alright? Even Terezi, who gets off on bright colors, limits herself to red glasses and shoes only. Your troll should only dress in an abundance of color if they have a reason for it, like being professional bait for musclebeasts or being an actor. If your troll is a fashion lover... please try not to make them an eyesore, and acknowledge that they're rare!
Second offense: Face placement. Facial features go towards the bottom right of the sprite's face. If in doubt, line your fantroll up next to a canon troll to work out where the eyes and mouth go.
Third offense: The hair. Trolls have a fringe, and their hair should be a lot more curved/wavy than this.
Fourth offense: No horns! All trolls have horns. Even Equius, who's around brawly robots all day, has them (although one of them snapped off.) If your troll has no horns, there really ought to be a reason for that.
Fifth offense: The symbol on your troll's shirt should be their blood color, UNLESS they are gunning for hemoanonymity.

3. Well, it's a bit better, buuut...

First offense: Small Head Syndrome. A common error is to just draw the hair over the base skull and call it a day without giving any sort of volume or poofiness to the hair; this looks awful. Your troll's hair should be at least as high as Sollux's.
Second offense: HORN OVERLOAD! You can do what you want with your troll's horns, but be sensible- the horns this girl is sporting would be far too heavy, not to mention impractical.
Third offense: Blood. This girl has a hue of 335, which puts her above Feferi. Nobody should go above Feferi. In addition, all trolls above hue 270 should be seadwellers, and no seadweller can have a blood hue below 270.

VI. WHAT TO DO: MAKING A FANTROLL SPRITE

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...I'm gonna have to reference Metaflare's excellent guide here, with one caveat!


That purple line is where Sollux's hair starts. Your troll's hair should be as tall as that, minimum.

VII. I FEEL OFFENDED BY THIS!
I did not meant to target you specifically! But if your fantroll breaks a lot of these rules, you should probably take a good hard think about it, consider making changes.

[Phantom Gamer]

You wouldn't know that you would be used as an engine until it was too late.

Ouch.

[Saki-noir]

(thank you immortalMemelizer for the awesome picture)

Your name is Lyncis Auriga
your constellation is a Lynx and your troll tag is misanthropicMrable

You have a strange Obsession with the human holiday called "Christmas" and collect colourful ornaments to decorate your hive with. You also like marbles, that's Not an obsession but none Dare cross your sharp shooter.

You Enjoy a good role play game with your fellow trolls but You don't play Extreme role play anymore after someone DID lose and eye.

You wouldn't Admit it but you are Rather self conscious of your mismatched Horns so you wear a red Christmas style ribbon in your hair to draw Attention away from them.

Your Lusus is a Friendly type named Alsciaukat who keeps you on a pretty strict schedule. Seriously when did she get so Bossy?

You tend to get Excited or Flustered when talking so you have a habit of exaaaaaaagerating your Words.

[PriffyViole]

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(thank you immortalMemelizer for the awesome picture)

Your name is Lyncis Auriga
your constellation is a Lynx and your troll tag is misanthropicMrable

You have a strange Obsession with the human holiday called "Christmas" and collect colourful ornaments to decorate your hive with. You also like marbles, that's Not an obsession but none Dare cross your sharp shooter.

You Enjoy a good role play game with your fellow trolls but You don't play Extreme role play anymore after someone DID lose and eye.

You wouldn't Admit it but you are Rather self conscious of your mismatched Horns so you wear a red Christmas style ribbon in your hair to draw Attention away from them.

Your Lusus is a Friendly type named Alsciaukat who keeps you on a pretty strict schedule. Seriously when did she get so Bossy?

You tend to get Excited or Flustered when talking so you have a habit of exaaaaaaagerating your Words.

Trolls do not know what humans are.

I know this isn't the critique thread, but this had to be pointed out.

[scintillatingMoniker]

Your name is Alunas Mitere, and you are 6 sweeps old. You have never been more awake.

Even with age, you continued trying to get into reading. One of the first books you ever read was a dictionary, so your vocabulary is prodigious. You like horror and fantasy mostly, but you've also started trying out comic books, at first because the pictures made it easier, but now just because you're used to it.

You also flarp sometimes, but not very often because you'd rather not become too chummy with some of the dangerous flarpers out there. Instead you play videogames, but not that often, mostly because you like horror and those games always have puzzles that you aren't too good at. You like boardgames too, but those are harder to play without friends coming over, and... that can't happen.

You'd like to invite people over, but you don't have many friends... or a lusus. You were just a kid, you just thought it was asleep, or sick, or something, but when that pisshead broke into your home and tried to kill you to protect himself from your sleeping problems, he fatally wounded your lusus. You didn't react very well. He's been dead for almost 2 sweeps now, so you had to look after yourself. You were already used to looking after other people because of some problems with your morail, and your powers trivialised hunting, so the main problem was loneliness. You had your books to learn from, but your social skills are... definately not the best

Back when you were a little kid, you weren't all that bright. You had, and still technically do, have a sleeping problem because of a combination of a unique power, and a broken repuracoon. Nightmares were a problem, and your power didn't really help them get any less of a problem.

Your power is simple, you can take nightmares and put them into other people's heads. As a kid, you used to use it to... "fix" people, by pouring all of those horrifying images in at once, terrifying them into a coma. Someone helped you realize this was wrong, and for a long time, you stopped using your power altogether. Once you got over the guilt, you tried to figure out how to use your powers for good, and you had a... alright, a silly idea.



YOU ARE THE NIGHT(mares)

Early in the night, when people are still groggy from waking up or whatever, you don your VIGILANTE CLOAK and go out into the night, shielding yourself with darkness and arming yourself with your scythe.

Okay yeah, this is silly. But it works. Because of your power, as long as you can close in fast enough, you can just grab their face and shove some nightmares in as punishment for their bad deeds, then leave... Well, when you say "leave", you mean raid their house for containers and then carry as much sopor as you can scoop up.

...What? They were bad people anyway, they deserve a few nights without the stuff.

Your trolltag is still narcolepticInsomniac and your quirk )hasn't changed at all, except yOu're a bit better at typing nOw.(

[Dragongirl30894]

-> Be the... blindfolded blueblood?


Your name is Aceron Laotho, and you are most definitely blindfolded. You'll clarify that later. Like most other 7 sweeps old troll, you have many interests, but you in particular seem to have more interests than most. Let's see, first of all, you like cooking quite a bit, and you're a great cook. You can taste even the slightest hints of seasonings and spices on a food, so you add a tiny little bit of a bunch of them, and your dishes always have a special hint to them that most trolls can't quite place. If somebody asks what you used, you'll just say you have a "secret ingredient" and leave them in the dark. There's no real reason behind it, you just know most people get quickly bored with seasoning talk.

Another hobbie of yours is gardening. More specifically, cultivating flowers. You have a large fenced area behind your hive full of plants, from small flower-pot sized, to tree sized ones. Those last ones also give you fruit from time to time, so along with getting the nice perfume you get your own natural ingredients for your recipes. Well, you guess it's not so much "gardening" as it is "farming", because you do leave a bunch of animals wander about your, for lack of a better word, farm. You even have a stable where your equines can go to sleep in. You say "equines" instead of "horses" or "hoofbeasts" because of your third interest.

You have a liking for Fiduspawn. Yes, you know it's a wiggler's game, you don't care. Your excuse is that normal animals aren't as fun most of the time. Though you only like the equine-type spawns, there's just something about horses that's so endearing to you. You take care of your spawns just as much as your normal hoofbeasts, but oddly enough you rarely ride either around. You just let them roam free, and keep them nice and fed and combed. It's a nice and peaceful living.

One more interest is a good love for music. Not really making music, the only instrument you can play nicely is a crude wooden flute you made yourself. It plays some nice soothing music, so you're happy with just having a very specifc taste in music. Which is to say, lyric-less instrumental. You know your taste can be called "refined", but it's really not on purpose. You just can't stand normal music, you just can't. You swear you tried every single type of music in existence, and the only thing that appeals to you is instrumental.

Lastly among your various hobbies is, as you like to say it, "anything that involves using your hands". You've dabbled with so many things on that category, that if you went to list everything this bio would get way too long that it already is. So you'll just say the ones that stayed (mostly). You're fairly good with massages, and you know basics of shiatsu (google it). You've tried plenty of other things, but like you said, this thing's already big enough without those.

-> So, what about that blindfold?

Hm? Oh, right.


There you go.

->GAH! Wtf happened?!

Well, you see, back in the trial caverns, you got your eyes gouged out basically. You've been blind ever since, and have no memories whatsoever of how it's like to see the world around you. You suspect you already had bad sight before losing it. And fortunately for you, you have the hearing of a freaking bat. You're not making a metaphor here either. You could hear the screeches of your bat lusus for as long as you remember, and dog whistles drive youy crazy. That's why you have so many interests, you hone your remaining senses through them.

About your lusus. You said you could hear his screeches because he left a few sweeps ago and just never came back. You guess he got tired of taking care of you or something, you're not really sure. Either way, when he left you could already take care of yourself, so it didn't really matter. And you can most certainly take care of yourself, you're deadly with your wooden walking cane.Though you're peaceful most of the time, it's really just for defense. You're not as violent as the average troll.

You're not very hemoloyal either. You just don't see the point. Oh, wait, you didn't- ah, nevermind. Yes, you're blind, haha. Bad jokes aside, you really don't. Though, with your blue blood giving you a comfortable position in society, you're not about to support any movement against the hemospectrum. So you treat people equally, but if they want things to change because they have a shitty life, well, better go look for someone else.

You have the Scents Modus, which works pretty much like the Array Modus, except that each card has a faint scent matching the object captchalogued. Your Strife Specibus is the previously mentioned caneKind. Your tag is blindRustic and you don't have a quirk because you use a speech-text converter.

TL;DR

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NAME: Aceron Laotho
BLOOD COLOR: blue (#062f81)
AGE: 7 sweeps
INTERESTS: cooking, gardening, taking care of horses/equines, fiduspawn, playing flute, doing manual work
LUSUS: gone missing for sweeps, was a male bat
FETCH MODUS: Scents Modus
STRIFE SPECIBUS: caneKind
TROLLTAG: blindRustic
QUIRK: none

[Cliff_Racer]

==>Be the Queen's loyal servant

Glub.

==>Be the OTHER Queen's loyal servant, you twit.

oof cooursE. My ApooloogiEs foor thAt foooolish MistAke.

You are now SECTUS KYBATO.

You are SEVEN SWEEPS OLD and are already employed as a BUTLER... Or, really, whatever your LUSUS wants you to be. Which normally is a BUTLER. You do this because she is very LARGE, and has various SCYTHES FOR HANDS and a PINCER the size of your entire body on her tail end. Also, EGGS. You're afraid if you misbehave, she will hatch countless CHILDREN to devour you whole. No pressure, though. Just do what she says and you'll be okay, right?

Your HOBBIES, when you are not SLAVING AWAY FOR THE QUEEN GRUB, include VIDEO GAMES, COOKING and GETTING PISS DRUNK. As a person, you're fairly EASYGOING. You talk with big, sophisticated words, like the butler you are. You believe the HEMOSPECTRUM should be upheld, and feel in place being a SERVANT. Unless the Queen Grub says you don't. But that hasn't happened. You loyally stick to the Queen Grub's rules, and constantly refer to 'her' teachings. Perhaps with a little nudging in the 'right' direction, you could DEVIATE... NO! What a ludicrous idea!

Your LUSUS, as mentioned previously many times above, refers to herself as the Queen Grub. She is a massive insect, taking residence in a gigantic cave underneath your HIVE. She hangs from the CEILING using resiliant strands of mucus that she generates from her TAIL. This is a picture of her:

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Your Trolltag is servusHumillimus and Yoour text is littErEd With HEr spArE crooWNs... ANd hEr Eggs.

You fight with Platterkind.

Your Fetch Modus is set to Hivemind. Items you take must be approved by the Queen Grub before they can be retrieved. Items the Queen Grub tells you to get, or gives you, are considered approved.

TL;DR & other generic info!!!!!!!!!!

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Name: Sectus Kybato
Age: 7
Gender: Male
Blood: Yellow
Symbol: Crown
Lusus: Queen Grub
Title: King of Space
Land: Land of Silver and Frogs
Dreams on: Prospit
Trolltag: servusHumillimus
Quirk: All Os are lowercase, 0 = o, double all lowercase o's, AEMNW are capitalised, capitalises Her/Hers when referring to lusus
trufax: servus humillimus means "your humble servant, my noble Lord."

[Cliff_Racer]

( sorry police but you are being disregarded, doublepost time )

>Be the sweet snake greenblood.

Who?

>Be the recently retcon bombed and redesigned greenblood.

that i can do B}

You are now SIJMUN GLYSSR.

You are a GREENBLOOD of a relaxed nature who lives in a RAINFOREST and obsesses over SNAKES. Yes, the slithering little reptiles with the venom. Well, really, it's REPTILES in general, but primarily snakes. Your VEST is- you guessed it, SNAKESKIN, but your pants are just LEATHER. So are your BOOTS. You enjoy your style. Helps you stay light, though. You are rather PHYSICALLY FIT, having a 'swimmer' build. That means, LEAN, MUSCULAR and FAST. You DO have a small mutation... Your two 'fang' teeth have VENOM GLANDS. Not too potent of a venom, only causes numbness and hallucination.

Your HOBBIES include TAILORING, BUTCHERY, HUNTING and SUNNING ON THE ROOF OF YOUR HIVE, which is a small CABIN in a clearing. Your LUSUS is a gigantic snake, a leisurely constrictor who generally spends time in your clearing lazing around. He has eaten trolls before, but prefers rainforest animals. You sometimes use his scales in your tailoring. You don't really care about the HEMOSPECTRUM. If it doesn't bother you, you won't bother with it. Sometimes you find it funny to mess with people, but that's outside of the spectrum.

Your STRIFE specibus is Whipkind. Your Fetch Modus is Constrict, and it requires you to put a certain amount of constricting force on the card to retrieve the item.

Your trolltag is cripplingHallucinogen and you ekssstend sssertain consssonant sssoundsss. guesss why? :}

tull;durr

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Name: Sijmund Glyssr
Age: Eight sweeps
Gender: Male
Blood: Mid green
Symbol: Snake
Lusus: Constrictordad
Title: Prince of Time
Land: Land of Stone and Clockwork
Dreams on: Derse
Trolltag: cripplingHallucinogen
Quirk: All cases of S appearing become sss, dual s = sss, all lowercase, smilies have curly brace mouths.

[Kattily]

>BE THE SELF-CENTERED REDBLOOD BOY.

for the last tIME. I am not a boy.

>BE THE ONLY THING ON ALTERNIA THAT ACTUALLY MATTERS.

that's better. I'll humor you.



Your name is ALSCIA CHIONI.

You are currently 6 SWEEPS OLD. Sometimes you seem OLDER because you are very TALL. You wish that you were more MUSCULAR, but poverty makes you quite LEAN. You are often mistaken to be MALE, and you get very angry when referred to as such.

You are a bit of a LONER. Other trolls usually ANNOY you, and due to your DARK RED BLOOD they don't give you the RESPECT you deserve. You try to avoid others for the most part so that you don't have to deal with being DISRESPECTED. This means that you are usually quite ABRASIVE and openly RUDE. Like most redbloods, you have a sort of POWER. You can control ice, also known as CRYOKINESIS. Due to your POWER, you are always COLD. You avoid even dim lights and always wear SUNGLASSES because you have highly sensitive EYES and the light HURTS YOU. However, you can see better than usual in the DARK.

You have a reasonable amount of ART SKILL, particularly when it comes to SCULPTING. You sell your sculptures to make a living for yourself. You hope to develop ice that WON'T MELT so that you can make permanent ice sculptures. You're more comfortable when you can sculpt with your power.

Being a REDBLOOD means that you cannot afford a nice hive, so you live in a tiny DILAPADATED SHACK. Inside it's full of various sculptures and blankets. Lots of BLANKETS. Did you mention that you're always COLD?

You RESENT the HEMOSPECTRUM because you are at the bottom of it, naturally. You wish that you were higher up so that you could have RESPECT, an excuse to be RUDE, and all of the CAEGARS you could ever want. You treat HIGHBLOODS more politely than you do everyone else, albeit begrudgingly, but usually just IGNORE THEM.

You enjoy fighting with your KNIFE specibus, and use a SCULPTY fetch modus. When you want to get an item, you must sculpt something out of a very soft clay that resembles the item. If you sculpt something not in your sylladex, it creates a ghost image.

You want to fill your QUADRANTS for necessity's sake, only. Otherwise, you have no interest in romantic matters because it entails INTERACTING WITH OTHER TROLLS. The only living creature you want to interact with on a regular basis is LYNXMOM, your LUSUS. She's just as SOLITARY as you are.

If you were ever to play a DESTRUCTIVE GAME like SGRUB, you'd probably have a planet called THE LAND OF SUN AND SNOW, and title yourself the WITCH OF LAND.

TL;DR

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Name: Alscia Chioni
Name Origin: Alscia comes from Alsciaukat, the brightest star in her constellation, Lynx. Chioni is FOREIGN for SOMETHING. (Can't figure out where I got it from.)
Age: 6 Sweeps
Height(in Earth feet/inches): 5'11", and 6'2" counting her horns.
trollTag: superioritySculpter
Blood: Dark red (550000)
Lusus: Lynx
Planet: Land of Sun and Snow. (LOSAS)
Title: Witch of Land
Strife Specibus: KnifeKind
Fetch Modus: Sculpty (Basically pictionary with play-dough.)
Quirk: emphasIses her SELF-centered nature by capItalIzIng ME MY SELF and I. ends every sentence wIth a perIod.

[Renegade Electron]

One year ago today, I posted my first fancharacter. Today, the anniversary of that date, I post my twenty-third.

> Be the aspiring author.


Your name is TYPTIC KONTAI.

Your passion is WRITING, and someday you wish to be one of ALTERNIA's great AUTHORRORS. Surely some of them were lowbloods! Or so you hope. Your favorite GENRE to write is ROMANCE, and you have written up a HANDY LITTLE ALGORITHM that you can use to make sure all of your CHARACTERS have ALL OF THEIR QUADRANTS filled in the end. (Except you usually put in an EXTRA CHARACTER who gets killed off.)

Your STORIES tend to take place in the VICTROLLIAN ERA, where you feel that ALTERNIAN LIFE was at its APEX. It was a grand era, where the HIGHBLOODS were all UPPITY, CONDESCENDING, but ultimately NONVIOLENT in their POLITICAL FEUDS. Where the LOWBLOODS were DIGNIFIED SERVANTS and SUSPICIOUS BUTLERS! Where every corner had RESPLENDENT MANSIONS and ELECTRIC CHARIOTS!

But then WAR FERVOR increased. Everyone became VIOLENT. You hate VIOLENCE, but grudgingly PARTAKE OF IT for SURVIVAL. You try to RECAPTURE the VICTROLLIAN ERA by allocating your strife specibus to MUSKETKIND, and you have to admit that you're SOMEWHAT OF A GOOD SHOT, and GREAT AT RELOADING.

You also like READING, which you think IMPROVES YOUR WRITING SKILLS. Your favorite BOOKS are the same GENRE you primarily write - VICTROLLIAN ROMANCES, although many of them leave EMPTY QUADRANTS. You also like RESEARCHING the VICTROLLIAN ERA, and from that you have learned a great deal of INTERESTING FACTS.

Your trolltag is telegramEditor and you |replicate the telegram in your speech STOP|

[Dudemaster47]

> Be the freak-eyed bee troll.
...

>Fine. Be the Mind Honey Entrepreneur.
Much better.



Your name is PEZTIS ARBEHZ and you are a MUTANT FREAK.

Anyway. You are an incredibly rare specimen, a...wait, you're not fucking telling. You have FREAKISH PSYCHIC POWERS along with EQUALLY FREAKISH, HORRIBLY MUTATED EYES. As a result, you hide your blood and eyes. You know, so that you aren't looked at as a freak.

Anyway, looking past the various issues of BLUEBLOODS WITH PSYCHIC POWERS, you have the ability to PSYCHICALLY PROJECT FAKE CLONES OF YOURSELF AND CONTROL THEM VIA HIVEMIND, essentially splitting into up to six of you. Obviously, these ARE NOT ACTUALLY REAL CLONES and CANNOT PHYSICALLY REACT WITH THEIR ENVIRONMENT. You can create more but...they get less and less useful the more you make, since it takes a greater toll on your mind and thus they begin looking less and less like you. Since the entire point of this ability is to DISGUISE YOUR MOVEMENTS and CONFUSE AND INTIMIDATE OTHERS, being distinguishable in a crowd of intangible shadows of you while you're busy straining and trying to control all of them at once is A VERY BAD SITUATION TO BE IN.

Any way, your other horrific mutation. You don't have normal eyes, or hell, even eyes with a bunch of pupils in a cluster with concentrated eyesight in that eye or anything. No, you have COMPOUND EYES. You know, LIKE A BUG. You know, shittons of tiny eyes all clumped together into two big eyes? This also means that you essentially have THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY DEGREES OF PERIPHERAL VISION. Actually, you guess they allow you to see through your own head or something. You're not exactly sure. You can also DETECT AND REACT TO EVEN THE SMALLEST MOTIONS FASTER THAN MOST TROLLS. You know, because you have like HUNDREDS OF TINY EYES WORKING TOGETHER AND PICKING UP IMAGES TO MAKE ONE BIG ONE.

Of course, there is a massive downside to this seemingly incredible ability. See, YOU CAN'T ACTUALLY SEE WORTH SHIT. Your eyes just aren't big enough (ie the size of your fucking head) to give you the kind of clarity that most trolls have. Hell, your eyesight is basically colors, blobs, light, and movement without visual aids.

Which is where your glasses come in. You wear your SPECIAL SHADES to hide your freak eyes, and also to give you an area which you can actually see out of to a degree of normalcy. While you always have access to the whole of your peripheral vision, you only have the range of a normal troll in which you can actually see out of. However, you are still very capable of detecting movement and generally will react if someone comes at you from behind.

You were an EXTREMELY PROFICIENT FLARPER, having gained all the levels in the class of CLOAKDAGGER FLEETFOOT and using the alias DUKE SWARMSTING HIVEMIND. You and your partner were devastating, known for the brutality of your kills in PvP matches. However, she rarely accompanied you on other forms of missions and was generally SORELY UNDEREQUIPPED and UNDERLEVELED, which became apparent on your final mission. She had a horrible accident, you saved her life. You don't want to say much more about this.

On an unrelated note, you are INCREDIBLY WEALTHY, and you are richer than many members of the aristocracy. This is because of your relationship with your lusus. See, she is a QUEEN PSION BEE. Essentially, she is the MASSIVE QUEEN who gives birth to the various kinds of MIND BEE QUEENS. Your hive is connected to her hive, and it is always swarming with bees. But back to your lusus. Why does she make you rich? Well, MIND HONEY is the answer. You export it all over the place, along with the various SERVERS and DIFFERENT VARIETIES OF MIND BEES (including the well known BEENARIES). You help her out by making sure she isn't flooded with honey, and she makes you FUCKING RICH.

Sure, you have a few competitors. But you get your stuff right from the source, and yours is the highest quality.

You also enjoy flaunting your wealth at higher bloods, mainly because you are really just kind of an asshole.

You replaced FLARP with various video games, using your piles upon piles of riches to fill blocks upon blocks with even more piles upon piles of GAME GRUBS. Generally, you either spend your time gaming or thinking up new ways to beat your KISMESIS in your duels. You are also something of a gambler, enjoying using your power as if it was a game of chance. What the stakes are, of course, depend on the troll you're proposing them with.

Your strife specibus is set at polearmKind, with a preference for spears. Of course, you stopped using normal spears a long time ago, when you found your ANCESTOR'S WEAPON on a particularly challenging FLARP mission with your partner, although she was much more disappointed with her prize. See, you have a special plasma-tipped spear named ODIN'S STINGER. It's particularly impressive because you can charge and discharge electricity from the tip, making it semi-long range and mid-range.

It also just kind of LOOKS REALLY, REALLY COOL.

Anyway, your Fetch Modus is the Russian Roulette Modus, your favorite game of chance. When you pick an item, a revolver appears and you shoot yourself with it. 5/6 of the time, the chamber is empty and you retrieve the item. 1/6 of the time, your sylladex is ejected.

Thankfully, the revolver doesn't actually harm you.

You use the handle parasiticSlayer and you alwayz talk with a weeeeeeird buzzy accent.

tl;dr

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Name: Peztis Arbehz
Age: 6 Sweeps
Gender: Male
Blood: He ain't saying, but he hides it and uses gray (C9BFBF).
Power: 360 degree periphery, Swarm Projection/Hivemind
Lusus: Queen Psion Bee
Fetch Modus: Russian Roulette
Specibus: polearmKind
Trolltag: parasiticSlayer
Quirk: S=Z, gets a bit overdramaaaaaatic and buzzes when agitated.

[Pootporri]

>Be the tool.
<!YO<U want to< say that to< my face?! <!SHO<w a dude so<me respect, dude!

>Be the one-armed tunneldweller.
<!That's better, yo<u o<mniscient prick!



Your name is LYTHER RECETT.

You are a GREENBLOOD. BARBASOL GREEN, in fact. It's almost close to the all-rare JADE, but not quite. If you could, you would totally be awake during the day. Though, you really would rather not lose your eyes on top of your left arm. And on top of that, you've heard way too many stories about how the undead come out at day. Then again, you've only heard it about the desert. That, and people get mugged in the day! Hell if you're gonna get mugged!

If you hadn't noticed, or it hadn't been alluded to many times, you are, infact, missing your left arm. This is why you use slingKind, since you don't exactly need two arms to throw a rock at someone. You also have a secondary specibus, bagKind. Which is pretty much useless, unless you want to fill it with rocks and throw it at someone.
This whole missing-an-arm thing arises as some sort of a complication when you're trying to slam a mad bottle of CHEAP, KNOCK-OFF SODA. But teeth always work. After all, nothing can keep you and your ardent love of bad soda apart. The brand-name shit that everyone else drinks doesn't quite top the bad stuff. Technically, it does, in just about all categories including sales, but uhh... Screw technicality!

Speaking of mundane collection, you have quite a few more. One of your (admittedly least favorite) hobbies is EXERCISING. Least favorite, because well, who likes exercising? You need to stay in shape, but that's just about it. You're already missing an arm, no need to make Alternia harder than it is for you by being a weakling, right? Well, in turn, you collect DUMBELLS, & various EXERCISE EQUIPMENTS! That's not quite all though. You also like PLAYING PRANKS. In turn in turn, you collect AIR HORNS as well. Nothing says 'insufferable asshole' like blowing a air-horn in someone's ear, right? Well, that's just about all you collect.

Now, surely the asshole-ish omniscient voice in your head must be wondering where you store all of this shit. Your hive is a series of TUNNELS. Of course, reinforced with whatever the hell the carpenter drones use to build hives. It's quite roomy, contrary to popular belief, and very secure. The doors are all metal, and the door on the outside is only accessible via control panel. You don't exactly have the best view, but it's definitely worth it for security. Though, you don't know how those damn rats keep getting in.

In your hive lies your LUSUS, who is a fairly ... Well, okay. He's really small, and a GARDEN SNAKE. But, at least he helps you with the rat problem! Somewhat! The small ones! Well, uh... Since you've grown up, he doesn't bother you too much, and makes a fairly difficult meal of any rats that he finds. Sometimes. Actually, most of them get away. He isn't too fearsome. Needless to say, though, you were pretty happy when you learned to hunt for your own food.

Your lusus really never taught you any good values on the hemospectrum. Or any at all. He can't talk. Because he's a snake. So, you formulated your own! Which... In turn... Is why you lost your arm. For some reason, you thought a low(er)blood would be defenceless and weak, well, because he was lower. So, when he got out of line... You learned the hard way that status isn't exactly equivalent to strength. And that you really dislike sharp objects. Go figure.

On top of suddenly developing a glaring phobia of SHARP OBJECTS, you tend to dislike WIDE-OPEN SPACES, and HEIGHTS. It may have to do with the fact that you're in a closed, underground space a lot of the time. Of course, you'd never admit to anyone that you have any fears. Not to be prideful, but you pride yourself in being pretty tough. Okay, maybe you're prideful. Really, really prideful.

Speaking of being prideful, you have some pretty good confidence in your SNARKING skill. You like causing trouble, whether it be indirect or direct. That, and you absolutely, positively HATE losing! Unfortunately, in physical confrontations, you tend to lose quite a bit. This is probably due to the fact that you have one arm. Huh.

Your fetch modus is EXCITE, and you can withdraw items depending on how PUMPED you are!! Which... Is not often. Which sucks.

To wrap it up, your trolltag is tunnelGreaser, and <!YO<U like being LO<UD!! It's the o<nly way to< get n<oticed!

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Name: Lyther Recett
Age: 7 Sweeps
Gender: Male
Blood: Green, #009f3b
Lusus: Rat-eating garden snake
Fetch Modus: EXICTE!!
Specibus: slingKind and bagKind
Trolltag: tunnelGreaser
Quirk:
First three letters of a sentence turn into <!CAPital letters,
O's turn into< airho<rns,
and compound words like dog~house gain a tilde.

[Thunder Reign]

Your name is GIMPYS STUIBB,

This is skirting on "pretty offensive". Would you mind, uh, changing that to something that isn't literally "Gimpy Stubs"?

[Pootporri]

haha, oh wow. you're right. that was actually pretty ignorant of me. sorry. changed!

[Overlard]

>Be the ignorant idiot
\Ignorance/is\bliss,/fella!\Don't/make\me/beat\ya/down!\
>Be the 'smart' guard
\Now/that's\better!/Ya\can/go\ahead/with\the/introduction.\

Your name is DEHILA REGENI. Yes, you know it's a really GIRLY name. And while gender doesn't matter THAT MUCH, you still kinda get steamed when people insult you for it. For this reason, you INSIST on being called BIG D. This may be in part due to the fact you're kinda built like a THERMAL HULL. Big and burly, that's you! You are also SEVEN SWEEPS old, not that it seems to matter much.

You are also a BLUE BLOOD. A very nice blood color, if there ever was one. It has netted you a few nice things, like your nice HIVE. Plus a bit of immunity from psychic POWERS and the ability to order around LOW BLOODS as much as you want! Generally you prefer to give your orders with your FISTS though.

Ah, speaking of your HIVE back there, yours is located in the troll equivalent of a CITY. The 'downtown' districts, to be exact. You know, where all the entertainment places are? Your hive is pretty large and fancy, but you usually keep it HEAVILY LOCKED UP. You can't tolerate trespassers. Not one bit. Usually your LUSUS takes care of any that somehow break in while you're AWAY.

Your LUSUS, for reference, is a big ANT. Big enough to stand a decent chance of gnawing someone in half with its MANDIBLES, since it's a SOLDIER ANT. Antgramps, as you may or may not refer to him, is a rather odd creature. He mostly busies himself standing around GUARDING your hive all night. He TAUGHT you well enough, but you're still fairly distant from him. Oh well.

You also have a few things that keep you INTERESTED. For instance, you enjoy TRYING to design new DEFENSES to keep TRESPASSERS OUT. Emphasis on 'trying', since you are not a very smart troll and usually end up making completely ridiculous or infeasible ideas. You also enjoy coming up with WITTY INSULTS to use when you can. It generally helps your 'cred' when you can tell off someone in STYLE. Finally, you have a hobby of collecting BOXING GLOVES and other various accessories for FIST FIGHTS. In fact, you even enjoy watching TROLL-BOXING and dare anyone to say it's fake! You'll punch their lights out! Yeah!

You also tend to have a JOB to keep you BUSY and also in the BLACK, in FINANCIAL terms, not romantic. You offer your SECURITY services to anyone willing and able to pay for them. You generally act like a BODYGUARD for them, or a regular GUARD for an AREA or an ITEM. Somehow, you always end up getting business form the most UNSCRUPULOUS trolls. You NEVER ask questions though, at least not prying ones. Ignorance is BLISS, after all! What you don't know won't hurt you! As a SIDE JOB, you also work as a BOUNCER at local DAY-CLUBS. Of course, since nobody can really go out in the day but jade bloods, they're DAY-CLUBS in name only.

Your OPINION on the HEMOSPECTRUM is not much different from the norm. Your lusus, while not having really said much, ever, at least somehow instilled a sense of DUTY into you. You are WILLING to follow reasonable high blood orders, as well as some UNREASONABLE ones too! Even ones that can cause self-harm! Lower bloods are OK, as far you know. Just as long as they don't get UPPITY or try to use some kind of MIND POWER on you, you're fine.

You actually have TWO strife specubii, but you generally prefer to use ONE. You have fistKind and clubKind, and you prefer the FORMER in combat. You tend to hate people who make puns about your job and that last specibus. Platonically hate, anyway.

Your Fetch modus is set to Guardian. When you want an item out of your sylladex, you have to fight a FAKE MONSTER made by the card. If you successfully protect the item from the monster, you get the item! Pretty nice, eh?

If you were to ever somehow play a SILLY GAME, you would be the SAGE of HEART (Much to your dismay) and you would reside in the land of MUSIC and STONE.

Your trolltag is protectiveBludgeoner and you tend to \Protectively/wall\off/your\words./
TL;DR

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Name: Dehila Regeni
Gender: Male
Blood Blue (#140084)
Lusus: Giant Soldier Ant
Symbol: "Passive intellect"
Strife Specubii: fistKind, clubKind (uses a nightstick)
Fetch Modus: Guardian
Trolltag: protectiveBludgeoner
Quirk: Alternates /'s and \'s between words.
Title: Sage of Heart
Land: Land of Music and Stone (LOMAS)

[Electricwestern]

Your name is LUISON KATKOS.

You care quite a bit about the HEMOSPECTRUM and find yourself displeased with your TEAL BLOOD. You are also unhappy with your AVERAGE HORNS. You tried to fix them once, but the results were DEVESTATING. You now cherish the SINGLE HORN you have left.

Your interests include ANCIENT TOMES and LITERATURE OF A POETIC PERSUASION. You also have a rather peculiar attachment to CARDIGANS, but lack any FASHION SENSE. They are all EMBARRASINGLY HIDEOUS, yet you simply couldn’t stand the thought of discontinuing your WORRISOME COLLECTION.

Your LUSUS is a constant source of HUMILIATION to you. DOGFATHER is a large, fat, levitating HEAD of a PUG. You are thoroughly unimpressed with his pitiful level of intelligence. You have had quite enough of his WACKY ANTICS.

You secretly suspect that other trolls find you MILDLY IRRATATING, and unfortunately you are ABSOLUTELY CORRECT. You have a tendency to immediately begin WHINING about any situation you find yourself in. You are far less intelligent than you think you are, and everyone else has had enough of the INTELLECTUAL BULLSHIT.

As for special powers, you have the ability to create INCREDIBLE DISORIENTATION in the mind of an opponent. Unfortunately, you are unaware of this WONDERFUL GIFT.

Your HIVE is actually quite impressive for a TEAL BLOOD, as you built it on top of the ruin of a much older one. It was in this ruin that you discovered your Kind Abstractus; AXEKIND. You wield a RUSTY OLD AXE in strife. You are not very good at this, any victories you have were the result of DUMB LUCK.

If you were to theoretically participate in a game called SGRUB, your title would be the KNAVE OF VOID, and your land would be THE LAND OF ASH AND RUIN.

Your trolltag is clamorousGripe. You ttennd tto double-up your “nn”s annd “tt”s.

TL;DR

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Name: Luison Katkos
Age: 7 sweeps
Blood: Teal
Lusus: Floating Pug Head
Sign: Canis Major
Kind Abstractus: Axekind
Title: Knave of Void
Land: Land of Ash and Ruin

[llamamiah]

>Be the yellowblooded Martial Artist.

alrIghT.



(Sprite by finepoint and Ocfos)

Your name is XIINNG DRACOL.

You have YELLOW BLOOD flowing through your VEINS, which puts you on the LOWER HALF of the HEMOSPECTRUM. But you're ALRIGHT with that. You're alright with MOST THINGS.

This ALRIGHTNESS stems from your MARTIAL ARTS, with which you have found PEACE between your MIND, BODY, AND SOUL. When a highblooded douchebag INSULTS YOU through TROLLIAN, you LOG OFF and MEDITATE. If anyone were to ever spring the idea of MATESPRITSHIP, you'd be ALRIGHT with that. Because of your CALMNESS, you have QUITE A FEW MOIRAILS, which somewhat prevents you from realizing TROLL SERENDIPITY, but you're ALRIGHT with that.

Your INTERESTS include QUITE A FEW THINGS. Chief among them are KUNG FU MOVIES, which you watch on a REGULAR BASIS. You also like DRAMAS and SOAP OPERAS, but few Trolls know about that. You also like NOVELS WITH ACTION and TRAGEDY PLAYS. You also enjoy tending to your GARDEN, which is filled with plants that grow in VOLCANIC SOIL. You frequently TRAIN YOUR SKILLS by SPARRING WITH YOUR LUSUS.

Your LUSUS is a BIGHORN FLAMESCALED, a FIREBREATHING SCALED QUADRAPED with a GIANT SINGLE HORN. He's the only reason that your PLANTS grow, seeing as his flames have slowly transformed the soil into a VOLCANIC VARIETY. He also fights with his HORN and his FLAMES when sparring and HUNTING, which is PRETTY AWESOME.

As a YELLOWBLOOD, you have a special PSIONIC ABILITY. This is to WRAP PARTS OF YOUR BODY IN FIRE. This has made your MARTIAL ARTS 121% MORE POWERFUL. You don't activate it that OFTEN, however, seeing as that would WRECK YOUR STUFF, which would make you LESS CALM.

You enjoy collecting MASKS, DRAGON STATUES, and DRAGON FOSSILS. Your collection grows with each passing Perigree, and your HIVE will probably be FULL pretty soon.

You live in a COMMUNAL HIVESTEM in a BIG CITY, and you were smart enough as a WRIGGLER to get a COURTYARD and BALCONY put in your small space, so that you can have a PLACE TO RELAX and GARDEN, as well as a place to WATCH THE CHAOS OF THE CITY. Sadly, your COURTYARD was somewhat RUINED when a new FLOOR was built on top of yours. But you're ALRIGHT with that.

Your FETCH MODUS is BATTLESHIP, which requires you to successfully SINK A BATTLESHIP to retrieve an item. It's PRETTY SIMPLE.

Your STRIFE SPECIBUS is allocated to MRTLARTSKIND, which allows you to use ANY PART OF YOUR BODY, along with objects that are used in STANDARD MARTIAL ARTS, such as GLOVES and NUNCHAKU.

On TROLLIAN, your trollTag is draconicMelee, and you Speak calmly and wITh your FISTS.

If you were to ever play a game of SGRUB, you would become the PAGE OF SOUND in the LAND OF GRAFFITI AND RADIOS. Your CONSORTS would be LEGGED SNAKES, and your DENIZEN would be SIREN.

[Nightcastle]

>Be the dead guy.

[sure+why+not+]

Your name is Polair Castor. You are seven solar sweeps old, and did we mention you're DEAD?

Well it's true. The hideous metal shell you sport contains your limp, bloody, bludgeoned body. You were killed by a blue-blood over a girl during a FLARP session, and nano-bots you had injected into you earlier carried you to your hive and up to your respiteblock. The automatic machines within your lower levels did their work. You're currently functioning on constant shocks for power sources to your exo-skeleton.

Enough of all that. You used to enjoy ASTRONOMY, and you still do, but aren't into it as much as you were. The status of MECHANICAL ENGINEER still stands. It's pretty much a PASSION. You've gotten NO MORE IMPULSE to sketch or draw anymore, and PSYCHOANALYSIS is useless because you just don't dream. After your death, you've become very RESENTFUL and ANGRY toward everything, and are very hostile when angered. As for the hemospectrum, you still don't give a single shit. Your MODUS is still ENCRYPTION, but your TASER in Electroshckkind has been replaced with an ELECTRIC RIFLE.

Nothing else has changed. Your lusus is still an OVERPROTECTIVE SEADRAGON, and your hive's still a HUGE TOWER BY THE SHORELINE.

Your new trolltag is systematicHatred, and you [keep+your+sentences+safe+inside+a+powerhouse+].

If you were to play SGRUB, you'd still be the SAGE OF OATH in The Land of STARS AND MECHANISMS.