Your name is NOCTUA ENETHA. You are currently 7 solar sweeps old and a BLUE BLOOD. Your trolltag is dualProcessor.
You have an affinity for WRITING LITERATURE, particularly of the ROMANCE AND HORROR GENRES. Writing serves not only as a hobby, but as an OUTLET. These stories may or may not include copious amounts of MATESPRITSHIPPING AND FANTASTIC GORE. You have to say so yourself- you have a way with words. However, sometimes you scare yourself when you mix those genres in your writing, though that doesn't happen unless you're in a PARTICULARLY BAD MOOD.
You also have MIND CONTROL POWERS. Or at least you think you do. They haven't quite
manifested yet, but you know they're there somewhere! They're just particularly stubborn. At least you know you're
special... soon enough.
Others have told you that you switch between a QUIET, MEEK, BUT SWEET PERSONALITY and a BATSHIT, POSSESSIVELY INSANE PERSONALITY at the drop of a hat. You have no idea what they're talking about. You're just you. As far as you know, you haven't done anything particularly strange outside of the erotic fiction. You think of yourself as a kind but little troll who wants to share their experiences and stories with new friends. Sure, you have your BAD DAYS, but who doesn't?
Your lusus is an OWL named Doctor Whoo. Honestly, she's kind of an asshole, but at least they've made you realize how LONELY and SOCIALLY AWKWARD you are. After all, they're all you ever see every day in person. You have to admit that you have a bit of TROUBLE MAKING FRIENDS, despite how much you crave some social activity. Anyone you get close to tends to be afraid of you, supposedly because of the "batshit possessive" claim.
You keep your lusus's mood in check with your handy AXEKIND STRIFE SPECIBUS. When you aren't spilling your endless ideas into word documents, you're out hunting her dinner so she'll stop bitching at you all the time. Seriously, it doesn't take much for her to switch from an AGREEABLE MOOD TO A BAD ONE.
Unfortunately, you live on a very tall CONVENIENTLY TREE-SHAPED CLIFFSIDE. It's so high up off of the ground that prey is in low numbers, not to mention getting down is a pain in the ass. This makes it impossible to get away from your lusus much of the time, and come dinnertime, they're unsatiable and picky about what you do end up bringing back to the hive. How ungrateful. At least you have your own room as a consolation.
You have a SLAP FETCH MODUS. When the damn thing doesn't want to hand over items, you do to it what you do to your husktop- slap the shit out of it till it works and coughs up the goods. It has a tendency to shoot out things when you hit it too hard, though.
You tie up your hair to keep it out of the way when going about your daily activities, but this tends to be negated by the fact your sleeves are much too long for you. Boy, do they obstruct everything. As such, your TYPING QUIRK tends to have normal grammar, except for when you accidentally madersh multikmjple keys at the same tinhjme.