Don't put your profile under spoiler or TR will miss it
Don't put your profile under spoiler or TR will miss it
Fair enough. It is now no longer under a spoiler.
"My intentions are what I make of them."
>Be unlucky number 16.
Your name is VALOKI GHARIL.
While some trolls live in isolated hives, and a few of those don't have neighbours for miles, you're pretty sure that no other troll has a life quite as remote as you. Hell, you don't even have a hive. You gave up on it, along with everything about your former self, nearly two sweeps ago. You hate the idea of coming into contact with other trolls... well, perhaps saying that you fear the idea is more apt... but either way, you've thrown yourself into total isolation, drifting through the forests and swamps like a ghost. You have a bad habit of picking fights with any dangerous animal that comes your way, leaping into the fray and wondering what'll be the thing that finally does you in. No matter what kills you in the end, though, be it fluffsheep or imperial drone, you want an impressive death. You want someone to come across your corpse, so mangled it's barely recognizable, with the surrounding area decimated from your final stand, and think "holy shit this dude was hardcore." Why?
It could do with the fact that you were a notorious pacifist for most of your life.
You... hell, maybe "notorious pacifist" doesn't even begin to describe how dedicated to the cause you were. You abhorred violence of all sorts, going so far as to make a habit of stealing other people's strife specibi so that they couldn't inflict harm on others. You helped out any troll who needed aid, even if they were psychopaths who responded to kindness with murder. No matter how many people walked all over you, you would just grin and bear it! You had a Messiah complex, to be honest. You were completely infatuated with the idea that you were going to revolutionize troll culture. Even if your peers picked on you now, one day they'd see how right you were, and peace and love would spread throughout the galaxy!
That didn't happen, of course. While you managed to accumulate a group of friends, they were always too wary of the fact that you were nigh-suicidally helpful to get close to you. You were born stronger than normal, which is perhaps part of why you survived the constant attempts on your life caused by your "helpfulness", and you got away with more shit than a normal troll could- but not even the strength of a musclebeast could have kept you safe forever, and eventually there came a breaking point.
One night, no different to any other, you attempted to aid a brownblood escape a group of angry trolls out for his blood. Things were going swimmingly: with your strength and knowledge of how to stall an angry mob, you managed to escort him to a cliff face where his bird lusus waited below. Yet for your kind work, he repaid you with a buzzsaw wound to the chest, and the group who had been chasing him complimented that with an arrow straight through your left eye. They would have most certainly killed you, and perhaps you would have let them, was it not for the searing pain.
It was a sensation you'd never felt in your life, completely overwhelming you- it's cliche to say it, but something woke up in your psyche. Something primal, something vicious, an alien emotion to you. In retrospect, perhaps the new urge you felt, that desire to rip flesh asunder, was something that all trolls had and you had simply managed to lock it away. It didn't matter. Before they could make any more moves, you withdrew your rifle from your neglected strife specibus and mowed them down without batting an eye (well, you only had one left, didn't you?).
After that, you... broke. Or maybe you just had a sudden realization. You sat down on the ground, shaking, as the cloud of self-delusion you had mired yourself in dissipated in the breeze. What the fuck were you doing, Valoki?! Charity and good will? Helping others? How dumb could you get?! You kept repeating that over and over, until it stopped making sense, until the thought of helping- no, even talking- to another member of your species made you nauseous. You stood up, went back to your hive, shoved anything of worth into your inventory, and left for the wilderness.
Now? You live like an animal yourself. Save for your shirt, you clothe yourself in the bones and pelts of prey you've killed, and run around barefoot. Your body is covered in scars, of bitemarks of all kinds, but you wear them with pride and make no effort to hide them. You don't know if the Empire can find you as you are, cut off from anything, but you assume they can. It's... getting close to your 10th sweep, and you've dodged all the bucket-collecting drones, but sooner or later you're going to get caught. The idea scares you, but not as much as the idea of rejoining civilization. You would rather die impressively than go back to who you once were.
As it is, uh, you have a bit of a problem with talking to other trolls. Your old helpful/friendly habits didn't quite go away, you see, even though you actively work against it now- any troll that tries to contact you, whether it be through face-to-face interaction or chatting on the husktop you still keep with you for some inexplicable reason, will get a vicious response. But if they persevere in talking to you (and if you see they're in trouble, augh) you always end up caving and helping them. Ugh! You're such a sucker! You're going to go kill a cholerbear or something now, go away.
Your trolltag is toothTrauma and you wonder | if | spacing | out | your | words | like | this | will | encourage | people | to | leave | you | alone?
Last edited by Thunder Reign; 06-23-2011 at 12:11 PM.
Yo TR! *points to my troll app from another rp at the top of the page*
"My intentions are what I make of them."
She can read you know. She'll put it in the OP when she has the time to.
No need to be so impatient.
Excuse me? I update the profiles every three or four days. The next update is tomorrow.
Not what I meant. I was expecting some sort of response to my character and any thoughts that there may be on it. Sorry if that came across the wrong way, didn't mean to cause any trouble.
I assume that I can post with him though?
"My intentions are what I make of them."
IT'S A DOUBLE MOBIUS RAINBOW.
fanchars and whatnot available on pesterchum. give me a poke if you'd like to talk to them.
Oh, okay then. *goes to introduce Zorron*
"My intentions are what I make of them."
Yep, this thread doesn't work on an approval basis or anything like that. Nobody has to give you permission to use a fantroll- the purpose of posting a troll profile in this thread is to index it for easy reference, so others can find the profile, and if there are glaring errors in the profile then people will point them out and help. You could waltz in here with Blackblood the Rainbow-drinking Girlfriend Of Karkat and nobody would actually have the right to tell you to go away.
Interesting. On that note, I may one day create troll with a hellboy look for the horns, blood that can turn any color on the Hemospectrum, and a White Hole as his symbol.
"My intentions are what I make of them."
do that and i'll fukken shank u
i will knife fite u!!!! with my fists!!!!!
(all seriousness, though, let's stop posting like this and let the thread go back to being solely profile posts.)
>Be the... What the fuck?
Ugh, what? I'll just give you a second to... Get yourself together.
Alright, there we go.
Your name is MAZHANI NETER, and you can't be held accountable for your actions.
As a sea-dweller, you obviously felt you were superior to those of lower caste, and found yourself only associating with other sea-dwellers. When you did come across a lowblood though, you'd verbally and physically abuse them, and many times, kill them. To you, it was totally JustifieD, though, seeing as you were their superior, and you had a right to do it if you wanted to. You did this for sweeps, making a name for yourself as "That jerkass that goes around killing shit". Well, until now. There seem to be a lot of ghosts on Alternia, and a lot of them are familiar with you. Some would expect a few good hauntings, and that's it. They'd probably just talk to some stupid lowbloods that can hear them, or something. But no, you seem to be a special case. They have somehow figured out a way to possess you, and that was the start of you problems..
Every day, there seems to be a new batch of ghosties, seeking to avenge their own deaths. Though, you're sure some of them you haven't even killed; they just want a chance to fuck up a jerky sea-dweller's day. They publicly humiliate you, get you in violent confrontations with other trolls (which they make you lose), all while you are still conscious, simply forced to watch and feel the pain. To avoid this, you tried leaving your hive, abandoning your friends, and going into hiding, yet, they still manage to find you. While you were possessed, they'd give you scars, a broken horn, and tattoos. Marks so they could find you again. And it's not like you can just walk up to one of those aforementioned ghost whisperers and ask nicely for him to tell the spirits to knock it off. They know your face. Everyone does.
Before karma literally took a shit on your life, you had many interests aside from ruining the lives of the lower castes, like singing. You fucking loved singing. You fancied yourself a songwriter, too. You would jot down a few lyrics, hum a tune you made and all that jazz. Of course, there's no time for that. You left all your music back at your hive anyway, which is probably destroyed. You also were a fan of studying the cultures of species Her Imperious Condescension has conquered. There were so many to choose from, so you never really got bored of it. Some were odd and exotic, and some were just like Alternian culture. While still on the culture note, you are utterly fascinated by subjuggalators. They can do what ever they want, to any troll, and are prophets. How cool is that? Not keen on the whole clown part, though. That's pretty ridiculous.
You're very smug and critical of others, which, is kind of expected of a highblood. You judge everyone and everything, most people that have met you label you a cynic, or just a jerk. Although, when you weren't dealing with lowbloods, you were kind and hospitable, and actually giving a shit about people. Sadly, the highbloods aren't the ones haunting you, are they?
Your trollTag is melancholyMelody, and you try not to distinguish yourself from anyone else.
Title: Knight of Song
Land: Land of Rhythm and Waves
Strife Specibus: chainKind
Last edited by Alyss; 06-23-2011 at 03:09 PM.
Hey everybody, time for another one-joke troll I'll never use!
> Where's the scattroll?
You're the SCATTROLL.
Your name is SCAMAT JOHANN, but most people just call you "SCATTROLL" or "That freak who should've been culled a while ago". After all, you have all the traits of an outcast. You're a lowblood, you have a speech impediment, you disdain violence, and you want to create a world where everyone can get along, a world without violence, discrimination, and hatred.
Naturally, you have no friends at all.
As previously mentioned, you stutter. This makes it difficult to hold a conversation with anyone, but it does give you one benefit - you can utilise your stutter to achieve excellence in SCAT SINGING, an art form you specialise in. You love nothing more than putting together songs where more than half of the lyrics consist of nonsense. The rest of these lyrics are primarily you advocating for societal reform and a new age of peace and happiness.
You blame the last part as why your hive was burnt down, your lusus was killed, and everyone else shunning you. But you find solace in your music, which you have managed to prolong your inevitable culling by performing for other, higher-bloodeed trolls. It helps that you have a sexy voice when you aren't stuttering.
Your trolltag is visionaryStutterer and yyouyou stttutter yourr wowordss and innserrerert scooba ba dooba ba be ba boo scat in your ssenttentencecess
If you're scratching your heads right now.
Ach! Hans, run! It's the lhurgoyf!
AVGN Quote of the Moment-I-Have-Time-To-Update-It: "When we heard that a Ghostbusters game for Nintendo was coming out, we were so excited, we shit our pants! Literally, shit came out our asses and we rocketed through the roof! "
>Who's this fellow?
That's not a command, but ok. Your name is BASILI METCAL, and you are just coming up on your eighth wriggling day.
You enjoy SINGING, but you think you are INCREDIBLY BAD at it, so that's a bit of a bummer. You enjoy composing entires songs and recording them yourself. Though you are not proficient in many musical instruments, your skill in the drums and keyboard is enough to synthesize any other instrument you may need. Your lusus thinks you are kind of a pansy for this, and you two have frequent GRIEFS with one another on the subject.
Your strife specibus, by the way, is set to CROSS-kind. Yes, that's CROSS-, not merely CROSS. After a blunder of a first GRIEF, in which you stupidly equipped a set of drumming CROSS STICKS to your Strife Specibus, which defaulted to CROSSkind (as opposed to STICKkind, which is what you had expected), you developed an interest in STRIFE CODING. Over time, you have become well versed in the ways of SPECIBUS TWEAKING, and indeed are an expert on the field. Your specibus, therefore, can accept weapons of any type that include the CROSS prefix, whether it be CROSSBOWs, CROSSPISTOLS, or CROSS-SABERS. You also suspect it can accept things that HAVE A CROSS IN THEIR COMPOSITION BUT ARE NOT NECESSARILY CALLED SUCH, but you have been too busy to find out.
Beside messing with STRIFE SPECIBUSES, you enjoy OTHER SORTS OF INVENTING, though you are possibly even worse at those. Your hive is filled with INVENTIONS OF DUBIOUS EFFICACY, most of which are DOWNRIGHT DANGEROUS. That doesn't really bother you much, though - you think they're fun to make. Although you find fashion silly at best, you do wear a blazer (and occasionally a lab coat) for the sake of extra pockets.
Beside your own specibus, you dabble in creating new and odd specibuses (your greatest achievement being the (x^y)x(x^(x^y))dentkind, which you have never actually given to anyone for fear of causing unstoppable, exponential growth). You don't have many subjects to test out your PROTOTYPE STRIFE SPECIBI, so you often FLARP and 'gift' your untested specibus to unfortunate wigglers. These specibus tend to MALUNCTION IN THE MOST INOPORTUNE WAYS, but that's what alpha testing is for. Usually, though, by the time you get the specibus back, you've moved on to other projects. This is probably why you still only use CROSS-kind. When you FLARP, you take on the personality of AGENTIMIDATOR CAFFIN, who is just a rip-off of LEGISLACERATOR TROLL FRANCIS YORK MORGAN, a character from your favorite videogame. Your strife specibus has good synergy with that of the dual-natured legislacerator.
Your position on the BLOOD HEIRARCHY is a comfortable DARK GREEN, almost to the point of being JADE. You dislike YELLOWBLOODS, but that's mostly because it's annoying to have to HIGHLIGHT their TEXT, and some SEADWELLERS, if only because of a LOUSY EXPERIENCE you had with one in the past.
You need PERSCRIPTIVE EYEWEAR, but the only pair you own tends to make you look like a HIPSTER DOUCHEBAG, so you deal without them. You feel you are INCREDIBLY LUCKY to have an average set of horns, unlike some of the MUTANT BASTARDS you see every so often. It would probably be kinder to be CULLED than to live with HORNS DOWN TO THE ANKLES. Shit, did you say 'kinder'? You meant -- ah, whatever. Truth is, you are something of a BLEEDING BLADDER BASED AQUATIC VASCULAR SYSTEM when it comes to CULLING. You feel as though the MUTANTS and CRIPPLED should be helped in some fashion, not just KILLED LIKE IT'S GOING OUT OF STYLE. Of course, you keep that very quiet, as you do not want to be culled yourself.
You are on good terms with your lusus, a MAMMALIAN WINGBEAST, though this may be due to the fact that you do not see much of each other. You live in your HIVE - which is, by the way, ON THE TOP OF A MOUNTAIN - and your lusus dwells in the caves within said mountain. As a result, you have become rather adept at SPELUNKING, and are familiar with many kinds of CAVERNOUS FLORA AND FAUNA. Back to your hive, it is SPACIOUS and DRAFTY, and you have many extra rooms for GUESTS - but, because you live on top of a FUCKING MOUNTAIN, nobody ever comes.
Alas and alack, you have none of your QUADRANTS filled. This bothers you somewhat, but you remain confident that you will fill them with time.
You've been having ODD DREAMS lately, of a dark moon filled with carapaced people. Though these dreams are a welcome respite from the usual nightmares of wriggling tentacles, you find yourself at a loss as to what they could possibly mean. When you look into the clouds, you see odd portents of the future, or maybe the past. You don't really know, and you hardly ever remember them, anyway.
If you were to play a CERTAIN GAME, you might find yourself in a LAND of CATHEDRALS and SULPHUR, and there find your calling as the THANE OF VOID - though you would much prefer something cool like the MONK OF TIME.
You have reason to believe that your ancestor was the CONTRIVER SINCLERK, a legendary inventor some believe to be the very creator of the Strife Specibus system itself! It was not exactly made clear, in the journal you believe was written by him, how exactly trolls fought before he invented the system. In fact, the whole thing seems rather suspect, but you don't really care. Most trolls don't even find their ancestor!
Your trolltag is crossedTreble, and you teend to speeak in a ratheer meelodic tonee.
>Boring. Time for SCIENCE!
Well, if you insist...
You still think those glasses make you look like a douchebag, though.
Last edited by Saint Malo; 06-23-2011 at 05:00 PM.
>Be the egotistical royal
You prefer distinguished leader, thank you very much.
Your name is Endria Zarrat, and you live in a boat. Well, a boat in an underwater castle. Shut up, it has shinies.
You have a variety of interests, most of which you will not speak on. For the benefit of not leaving the audience (invisible or otherwise) completely in the dark about who you are, you will however speak on a few matters.
First of all, you have an interest in wars. Not the fighting itself, obviously. fighting is, after all, quite painful. The history of war does however hold a certain fascination for you simply for the fact that it shows the true cunning and perseverance of your kind. In particular, you are fond of revolutions. Sure, the lower bloods were trying to topple the natural order of things, but they did so in a way that left a decidedly large enough mark as to be documented, not to mentioning causing Her Imperial Condescension to scatter troll-kind throughout the galaxy to prevent such an occurrence from happening again, a measure which has thus far proven to be quite successful.
You also have an interest in battle tactics and different types of weaponry. That said, you always have on hand your warkind Strife Specibus, one in which allows you to carry virtually any weapon that has been used in a war. You keep a second empty Strife Specibus card on hand at all times in case you need to get creative with the types of non-conventional weapons that may be laying around, but that doesn't seem to be any real concern at any time in the future that you can think of.
Finally, you have an interest in computers. You like to know them inside out, not only what goes into them physically, but the code that makes it run. You don't mean to toot your own horn (no pun intended) But you consider yourself to be a most able hacker as a result of this. You don't do that though. Such paltry means of getting back at others hold no interest for you, and are quite below your station.
Oh my, they are still wondering what you look like, aren't they? Well, you suppose that you had better fill them in. You look much like any other sea troll of your age, which is six and a half sweeps by the way, and your horns just straight up and out from the sides of your forehead, with a most decidedly vertical ascent and a slight tilt to the sides. You wear all black, except for a sleeveless trenchcoat that you have become quite fond of for some reason. Oh, and your Sylladex uses the history modus of which a picture of the item stored within will show when the item was built, and your symbol is that of a war flag.
Your trollhandle is fearlessLeader, and you avoid using fancy quirks so as to leave no question that you have made yourself perfectly understood when speaking.
"My intentions are what I make of them."
>[S]Be the troll that came from the wild west.
You are now FLYNNT LEWEST.
As said before, your name is FLYNNT LEWEST, and if it wasn't obvious enough, you're a TROLL. You're 7 SWEEPS OLD, and since you came out of the wriggling caves, you have been a fan of TROLL CLINT EASTWOOD and WILD WEST-LIKE MOVIES, so much that you decided to take the MILKBEASTTROLL PERSONA up, and never regret to do so. You were made for this. You know it. You live in the MIDDLE OF A DESERT, which is totally sweet, considering your lifestyle. You're usually pretty calm and level-headed, but you don't have any actual problems with CULLING, and have done so in varied occasions which we'll talk about later.
Blood and Lusus:
You're a lowblood, most precisely a BROWNBLOOD, or as some would call you, a shit-blood. Well, they are no more. You're low on the hemospectrum, but you really don't care about it. It also gave you the ability to TALK TO ANIMALS, so it's an extra point. You talk a lot with your LUSUS, a LARGE HOOFBEAST, a great creature that gives you rides around the desert sometimes, like when hunting. He's also cool with all the wild west thing.
Hive and Body Count:
You live in a MOSTLY UNDERGROUND hive... Actually, mostly because, from the surface, it looks like a WILD WEST SALOON, and that really draws the attention, especially in the middle of the desert. That's why you frequently have to deal with HIVE RAIDERS. You know. Trolls that invade and pillage other people's hives. You culled a lot of them. Hey, they tried to steal your stuff. And some of them tried to cull you first. And some of these even called you a shit-blood. In that situation, you normally hold up a gun to anyone you see near your hive, but you're not a psychotic killer. If they convince you, you let them go.
Since you live in the middle of the desert, and most of the people that you meet are hive raiders, you don't have many friends aside animals. However, you're VERY PROTECTIVE of the few you have or will get, and will beat the living hell out of anyone that messes with them. You don't know that yet, but your biggest hero isn't Troll Clint Eastwood, but your ANCESTOR, which I didn't think of a name yet you still don't know the name, and only clue you have is the gun you found that him used.
Oh, guns. You actually have THREE strife specibi: PISTOLKIND, with you trusty .44 MAGNUM, which you found while just ONE SWEEP OLD and have been practicing with it ever since. Indeed, in one of your few pacific meetings with other trolls, you tried your hand at a local small shooting competition. You won. You were 4 sweeps old at the time, and everyone else was wielding rifles. You had to abscond the fuck out of there to not be culled, as people didn't like being beaten by a 4 sweeps old lowblood with a revolver. You also use LASSOKIND, with your... huh... LASSO. And, at last but not least, KNIFEKIND, with your KUKRI. They say you can never be too prepared.
You actually swap between two modus: The LASSO MODUS, in which you have to lasso the item with a special rope to captchalogue it, or the SUREFIRE MODUS, in which you have to shoot the card with a special, safe handgun that only hits the cards. But they normally appear really far away in this modus... good thing your aim is great. Oh, yes, the special rope/pistol are automatically added to your inventory when you activate the modus, and taken away when you deactivate it.
View on the hemospectrum:
You don't actually care. You do not consider it an authority meter, but a trust meter: By some before mentioned cases, you don't trust highbloods easily. Sure, some of they are cool and all... bullshit. All of them are, were or are going to go psycho at some point until proven contrary. Sure, you can befriend them and all, but you always keep your gun loaded when near them, just in case. In oposition, you find yourself quite open to lowbloods, especially redbloods, who don't take too long to gain your trust.
Your chumhandle is doubleGunslinger and yΩu nΩrmally type using sheriff slang.
SΩmething's shΩwn up at the salΩΩn. GΩtta gΩ.
EDIT: Oh, yes, I actually use this handle. Feel free to pester away.
Last edited by Buse; 07-08-2011 at 08:26 PM.
Your name is Gammok Ataxius, you are 14 sweeps in age, but you have next to no interest in your age anyway, you are a big time, HIGH STAKES GAMBLER, and through gambling, you have gained ascendance above others of your blood status. Although you gamble often, you do consider yourself an honest person, and have abstained from CHEATING. From the moment you took up the STAKES, you have kept your Halberd [POLEARMKIND] handy, in order to secure your safety and keep hostilities at a distance, and it has served you well over many years, troll gaming is a dangerous business. When you only on the gambled on the weekends or when you had nothing to do, you were able to make a good amount of money as a LOAN SHARK, hunting down cheaters and deadbeats, but alas, you were able to drop this low employment, and eventually got your own CASINO to run, and hired a pair of Ruffiannihilators to do dirty work in your place. People outside your class rarely gamble, rich classes already have enough money, and the lowbloods often cannot gamble fairly because of psychic abilities, or they simply have too little to bet. You almost never remove your SHADES, for they are one of the great secrets to the perfect poker face, but more importantly, make you look like some sort of OTHERWORLD'S BADASS sent to Alternia to teach them the ways of awesomeness, in the form of one of a troll.
You have a great apreciation of art of every medium, and have filled your hive with quite a bit of it. You quite enjoy music, of generally every kind, but particularly being drawn to Jazz music, although not really caring about it enough to look at artists or anything other than buying albums and listening to the radio. And although you can play the bass, you don't generally play very much music.
Your lusus is Gorillattendant, he is a good chef, and great waiter, is a master of MONKEY STYLE, and the best when it comes to bodyguarding you wonder if there's any lusus that'd be a better bodyguard, you doubt it, especially since your lusus also wears some RAD SHADES.
You were once looking in a Gamer's Hall of Records, and found that an ANCESTOR of yours had been a very lucky gambler, one of the most infamous of his time, but he began to stake too high, instead of settling for gaining a little money, he kept betting, and ended up losing any money he won during games, as he started to become poorer than most of his blood status, he started cheating, in a very short time, he was caught after going to a casino with a mind reading troll to detect cheaters, and was subsequently tried and executed. You have learned from his mistake, which is what made you a great better.
You use the Shuffle Stack, like the stack modus, with a 54 card deck, you can reshuffle or just continuously redraw items until the one you want is handy, the more items you've captchalogued, the more tedious this modus becomes.
Your trolltag is blankfacedCardsharp And you speak in a calm, diluted, "What are you doing Dave?" voice, abstain from smilies, and in no way betray your motives or emotion, unless you're feeling like you really gotta serve a nice cold glass of liquid pulchritude, and you just go ahead and put away the suppressors and go ahead and start shooting things up with a candy corn 5 chamber revolver.
You also like to play games. (Durp)
Last edited by _Quietus_; 06-23-2011 at 11:57 PM.
TL;DR: Strife specibii should describe one kind/group of objects, not a possible million of them. Have you ever seen an object described as being a 'war'? I guess not. Go figure.
Addendum: Also the whole 'no-quirk-troll' shit is unbelievably stupid for me, since EVERY TROLL has a quirk, but I'm not going to rant on that. Yet.
Goodness, no need to get so angry. While you have a point, they're just fantrolls.
CC: ∑ ^ owo it was a hyperbole you fuck
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaa
just because he's upset doesn't mean you all can shrug it off and pretend he isn't 100% right about it.
these catchall specibi are fucking stupid and there's no reason for fancharacters to be having them beyond a general lack of creativity on the creator's part.
Originally Posted by Andrew Hussie, on SBURB titles
however, I do think that "warKind" is dumb and a catch-all specibus like what Gamzee has should be specific to Gamzee alone. it's too overpowered a concept otherwise.
WHO SAID THAT JOKERKIND HAD RESTRICTIONS? TOTALLY NOT ME.
still, I agree when saying that the concept should be left to Gamzee only, remembering that 'fantrolls shouldn't ever be more powerful than the canon trolls' thingie. even though it's not like a true rule, it's a p. fucking good guideline to follow.
Last edited by Chasewithlasers; 06-24-2011 at 02:43 AM. Reason: lol restrictions lol loool who said that