Trollslum 10: Index for fantroll profiles

[inexplicableSigns]

> Be the Button Collecting Troll

"[I stopped doing that forever ago, you know]"

Your name is Clavis Quiris, but most simply know you as BUTTON.

The nickname was given to you by a particularly bubbly seadweller after seeing your old collection of buttons, and it seems to have stuck. You don't mind it much, but the constant reminder of your tendency to abandon subjects can be annoying at times- you stopped collecting buttons nearly a sweep ago.

You are something of a pack rat, collecting interesting items and storing them away for preservation or future use. Unfortunately, your definition of interesting changes fairly often, leaving you with a wide variety of useless junk. You aren't comfortable letting others see the clutter in your hive, but you don't have the heart to toss any of it out. Your lusus, a large Coconut Crab named Latro, often strifes with you over this.

It isn't your fault that you tend to develop and drop interests on a near nightly basis, though! Even if you only learn a little bit about each subject before losing interest, you can recall the information at will later. Everything will be useful eventually, and even if you can't match a dedicated troll in a specific subject you can beat them in twenty more! Things like field medicine, sewing, herbalism, and astrology are among your more useful old hobbies, though there are many less useful ones among them. You still aren't sure why you learned tapdancing...

You are a tealblood, but a fairly quiet and unimpressive one. You aren't often willing to use your place in the hemospectrum to your advantage, preferring to earn respect by putting your knowledge to use helping others. Your chances of knowing something that is actually useful can be iffy at best, but you manage to be useful often enough that you keep trying. Others often take advantage of your desire to help, but as long as you get to show off you don't mind much.

You use the hckystckKind strife card (long story), though you fight with your fists far more often. You use the SET modus, which you greatly enjoy despise because it sorts items into increasingly specific categories and forces you to retrieve an entire category at once.

Your trolltag is accumulatedExpertise and you [Speak in a very collecting and complete way at all times] except when {!Something Interesting Comes Up And You Can't Help But Get Excited!}

TL;DR

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Name: Clavis "Button" Quiris
Age: 7 Sweeps
Caste: Teal (#327da0, Hue 199)
Fetch: Set
Strife: Hockeystick
Lusus: Coconut Crab
Trolltag: accumulatedExpertise
Quirk: Normally type in [Brackets with no contractions or punctuation], instead types in {!Curly Brackets With Exclamation Marks And Capitalized Words When Excited!}
Height: 5'4

[Overnightfuture]

> Be the hard working no fun green blood.
Hey I have lotts oF Fun!
>fine, be the Entertaining drinking green blood.



TThatt's much BetteRR.

You are Aarron Barret, now that you've hit the age of 8 you think you've got life figured out now.

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You wake up in the morning in your tour van and start booking gigs before you have a couple booked and you decide to head out for the night.

You usually go out and preform with your band "ReelBigFish" a band dedicated to entertaining highbloods that has gotten quite a lot of popularity with all sorts of blood colors. Sometimes you'll go out to one of the many party's your band mates seem to have planned and usually spend the whole night preforming party tricks, Man you love party tricks they are so fun.

Other nights you'll decide to go out and continue your practice of parkour, you love being fit and nimble. Not many trolls can catch you unless you're off guard.

Because of your bands status of entertaining highbloods you are very casual and calm with highbloods but at the same time try to maintain a good level of respect.

Oh and another thing you have figured out, it's that you hate if there's ever fighting around you, you don't care if someone's fighting far away from you but if it's close by you hate it. Because of this you are a pacifist, when it comes down to a fight all you'll do is dodge till your attacker is tired then run away. If you're ever really angry your specibus is boot kind and the most you'll do is double leg dropkick a troll ( hopefully across the face) but you only resort to violence if you're super angry or your life is on the line.

You don't always wear your white suit, actually you only wear it during and after your band preforms. Usually you wear your still obnoxiously bright shirt and brown jacket.



Your modus is the "guitar rif modus" You have to play a guitar rif to get an item from it, but you don't usually have much on you besides your igrub which you keep in your pocket cause you'd rather be able to listen to the music in it then have it in your modus and not be able to.

If you where ever in a magic game you'd probably be the lord of life in the land of buildings and water.

Your troll tag reelbigFish is actually a business / personal tag that you use for your band and you speak and type with A Bitt oF a sttutteRR on ceRRttain letttteRRs and like tto pointt outt youRR Bands acRRonym witth youRR speech.

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>Be the con artist low blood
Hey! I'm noT a Con arTisT you ass!
>Be the mind reading low blood.


Well aT leasT ThaT's niCe.

You are Curtis Tormus, 7 sweeps old and not quite sure what there is that is good in life.

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You're lowest of the lows at your Dark Red blood, some say the power you got with it was a blessing but you'd say it's more a curse.

The power in question is you can read minds, and you're pretty dang good at it. Not a single stray thought in a room you wont hear, besides maybe thoughts from the highest of sea dwellers. But you actually hate your power cause though you can crawl around in someones mind and know more about them then probably there moirail, you can't really control it to the best effect. You wish you could block out all the constant thoughts you hear for just one night so then maybe you could feel normal. but you live on and deal with it.

One bad thing about your power is that you can't read the minds of others with powers or you get a wicked backlash in your head and clock out for a couple days, you tell everyone you just get a headache just so no one worrys about you.

Another bad thing about your power is that the more you use it the more likely you are to suffer light amnesia every so often but you usually remember the things you forget after some amount of time, though it can be tough if you forget where your hive is.

You make all your money from your power, selling "magical mystical mind readings" on the street. It's not good money but hey it's still money

You usually spend your time at your hive playing guitar or making the best food you can with your limited money, but when you do go out it's usually to make money or to go to a local theater to take part in an improv group, nothing better then improv humor.

You also take lots of joy in card games and tricks though most games are ruined cause of your power, but you do love a good game of solitaire.

if you where to take part in a magic game you would be the thief of power in the land of food and cards.

Your troll tag is mindreadingMusician and you speak WiTh a Crazy love for your iniTials.

[inexplicableSigns]

> Be the Particularly Bubbly Seadweller

"/| Pff! What a thilly thing to thay! |\"

Your name is Kitiba Itihas and you are a disgrace to seadwellers everywhere.

As a wiggler you lived close to the shore and made as many friends among lowbloods as highbloods. Though you knew that you were in some way innately superior to your landdwelling friends, the fact that your lower friends were just as good caused the concept to never really sink in. This leaving you unprepared when you finally became old enough that your lowblood friendships were considered improper. Other seadwellers tried to pressure you into culling them, and took steps to do it themselves when you refused.

The incident left you with a very negative view of the hemospectrum, leaving you to clash with your finned kin over their casual disinterest in lowbloods. It eventually became too much, and you were given the choice of death or exile from the ocean. Your hive was destroyed, your good name tarnished, and you were left to find an abandoned mansion-hive to move into with your lusus, a giant mudskipper.

Luckily, you are an eternal optimist and you found many things to do with your new environment! The mansion contained an old library, which you have dutifully repaired and restocked with a wide variety of works, both fiction and non. When you can't deal with the outside world anymore, you lock yourself inside and read as many books as you can. You are particularly obsessed with stories of noble heroes rescuing the helpless damsel from her terrible life. Oh, what you wouldn't give to have a knight in shining armor all to yourself...

During the hive renovations, you also converted part of your hive into a makeshift animal shelter, spending many sleepless days learning to care for anything that found its way to you. You quickly discovered you were much better with animals than trolls, finding it fairly easy to bond with wild animals, at least long enough to properly train them.

One of the most dangerous animals you have bonded with over the sweeps is the Queen of a swarm of bees producing mind honey. You very quickly became the very best of friends, so you turned the top floor of your hive into a full-blown apiary. You use the honey they provide to create a wide variety of unique and interesting candies. You greatly enjoy experimenting with new ingredients, even if they sometimes leave you ill for a few nights.

Unfortunately, between your exile and your admittedly abnormal beliefs, there is a barrier of sorts between you and the rest of trollkind. Those that don't dismiss you for your exile will find you either foolish or insane when they learn of your hobbies, so your friends are few and far between. Truthfully, you don't mind all that much... you have your books and animals after all.

Your strife specibus is set to speargunKind and you use the TIDE fetch modus.

Your trolltag is sweetmeatSweetheart and /| you mimic a bee among the bookthelveth |\

TL;DR

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Name: Kitiba Itihas
Age: 7 Sweeps
Caste: Violet (#6f0055, Hue 314)
Fetch: Tide
Strife: Speargun
Lusus: Giant Mudskipper
Trolltag: sweetmeatSweetheart
Quirk: /| s->th, bookends around sentences |\
Height: 5'8

[Overlard]

((This is just a reboot/replacement for balancedMetalman doo doo doo))

> Be Balanced.

| Th+t is + littl- l+cking in d-scription. |

> Just be the filthy brownblood without complaining.

| V-ry w-ll, my +pologi-s. |



Your name is YARREX FISSAA. You are the self declared BALANCE KEEPER of all you survey. This tends to drop to dramatically short distances whenever you lose your glasses, which is OFTEN. At the age of 7 sweeps, this would be rather EMBARRASSING to anyone else.

You live on the PLAINS with your LABRADOR custodian. He has a nasty habit of driving away potential visitors by constantly BARKING at an irritating volume. You really wish he wouldn't, you really do enjoy company. One troll in a hive is an odd number, after all! Two trolls would be much better, much more balanced. Your lusus seriously regrets having dropped you on your head when you were a WRIGGLER.

Usually, you're a very CALM troll, keeping your voice at an even level at all times and never letting your BROWN (#8a4d09) blood pressure rise too high. You prefer to be as objective and NEUTRAL as possible in all situations, seeing all extremes as a way to get quickly killed. SURVIVAL is the name of the game here, as you can hardly balance all that you see if you're rotting in the dirt.

As a lowblood, you've gotten the short end of the stick in terms of power and position. You're perfectly fine with being stepped on in the metaphorical sense though! You're equally as fine with putting down lowerbloods if needed. You're fine with your lowblooded FUSION power, which is the crappy ability to permanently glue things together, minus the glue. You seem to be fine with a LOT of things.

You tend to be extra fine with the activity of SALVAGING. Recycling is important for the health of Alternia after all, and it's not a good idea to just throw out perfectly usable stuff! This is a totally justifiable reason for your frequent DUMPSTER DIVING trips. Making new things out of OLD usually means you get covered in tons of GUNK and FUNK, as well as collecting absolutely ridiculous amounts of duct tape. Fortunately, cleaning off GUNK and FUNK is something you are more than fine with, and usually your hive is spick and span as a result. The duct tape is kept in neat piles, right next to some TERRIBLY BROKEN weighted scales.

Your strife specibus is rifleKind, but you're stuck with a mediocre hunting rifle. You frequently have to RECYCLE ammunition for it, as well as search through junk yards for replacement parts and ammunition. You've since learned to be a GOOD SHOT, because missing is literally something you can't afford.

Your fetch modus is set to PILE O' JUNK. It dumps all of your captcha cards into a big pile on the ground and you get the "joy" of sifting through it all to find what you want.

Your trolltag is harmoniousScavenger and you | Typ- in + m+th-m+tic+lly b+l+nc-d f+shion. |

TL;DR

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Name: Yarrex Fissaa
Age: 7 sweeps
Blood: Brown #8a4d09
Lusus: Labrador Retriever
Strife Specibus: rifleKind
Fetch Modus: Pile O' Junk
Trolltag: harmoniousScavenger
Quirk: | prefix/suffix, A/a = +, E/e = -, no contractions or exclamation points

[Teslamagnetic Integration]

Your name is INNISS GODELL, and you are a 7.8 sweeps old goldblood. You also don't know how to shut the fuck up when you're supposed to.

You tend to say whatever is on your mind, no matter the repercussions involved. You always tell the truth, because you think its just better to be brutally honest, than to be sweetly dishonest. In fact, your tone has a bright, yet utterly deadpan punchline on every sentence, make it seems like you're sarcastic when you're definitely not. Though you can be. Nothing's really stopping you.

Your lusus tends to worry about you all the time, worried you might get culled for saying the wrong things at the worst of times for the dumbest of reasons possible. You love your roachdad, no matter how much everyone else hates him. In fact, your roachdad is adorable; at least to you. You also protect him as much as possible, seeing as he's easily crushed by someone else. He'll survive no matter what, that you're certain, you just don't want him in pain.

You have an obsession with both cooking, and FLARPing. In fact, you tend to try to mix the two a lot, which others would hate if you weren't such a brilliantly good cook. That's a lie. Actually, you're terrible at cooking. Nobody likes it. In fact, nobody likes you at FLARPing, because you're the weakest, and you just plain lose every single time. It's because of this that you tend to have virtually nothing but the clothes on your back. You tend to collect clothing left lying around for some reason, and it's become a hobby. You don't know why, really.

That is to say, you aren't defenseless when shit hits the fan. You have a wonderful, yet completely and utterly hopeless power beyond all comprehension. You only sustain a mere fraction of damage inflicted upon you, no matter the source. A well rounded punch in the face would only hurt you like someone lightly slapping you. Of course, this would be utterly perfect, if it didn't both kill your sense of pain tolerance and nerves to a dulled point, and didn't make your reflexes disgustingly bad. Your power protects you, but that the same time, makes you utterly powerless. If your power were compared to theirs, it would be minus below average. You tend to balance this by fleeing. You're almost too good at retreating from enemies. It's how you've survived all this time, even. Though, you do sometimes get lucky and kill a few trolls. But that's life, isn't it?

Your strife specibus is the fncysntaKind, and your fetch modus is the FICTION GLOSSARY. You must allocate each item in its corresponding genre of fiction.

Your trolltag is bracketedCandor, and you 『talk within the pure honesty you have towards everyone!』

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Your name is TREVET WAHLEY, and you are a proud indigo of a whopping 9 SWEEPS. You're proud of how old you are, though in truth THINGS ARE ON THE GRINDER. But that doesn't really matter right now. We're here to talk about YOU.

As said before, your veins hold rich, INDIGO BLOOD. You are among the HIGHEST of the HEMOSPECTRUM, and you couldn't be any more PROUD of your blood. In fact, you're TOO PRIDEFUL of it, and often think you can do whatever you like with little to no consequence. After all, who's to question you? Other indigos who do whatever the hell they want? Seadwellers, who because of where you reside, might as well be an urban myth? Nah, you'll keep doing what you like. If anyone has an issue with it, they can take it up with you. If they're lower, then they'll just have to ACCEPT THE CONSEQUENCES.

You're VERY ALOOF in nature, and often tend to do things your way, even if they're detrimental to your own personal safety. You're not gonna let someone push you around. In fact, you push others around--that's YOUR JOB. In fact, that's ALL INDIGOBLOODS' JOBS. You are an avid HEMO-ENFORCER, and you ACTIVELY SEEK OUT HEMOREBELS to DISH OUT THE PUNISHMENT. You sometimes are in a good mood, and will often BARGAIN A DEAL with offenders with a CHOICE--Have a limb wrecked beyond repair, or GET CULLED. Usually they go for the limb, or just sock you in the face and flee, SOMEHOW GETTING AWAY.

Your trusty MACEKIND is what keeps you on your SUBJUGATIN' TOES, though your shotgunKind helps keep the rabble at bay if they get too rowdy. But you never use that, because truth be told, it just makes it all boring and pointless. But hey, it makes a good backup in case of emergencies--most tend to back off when it comes out. However, maceKind lets you quickly dish out punishment non-fatally, and make it COUNT. Well, to you it's been non-fatal, anyway, since you always see the victim alive and not-so-well afterwards. Your mace usually leaves VERY PAINFUL REMINDERS to hemo-offenders that YOU DON'T LET THAT SHIT FLY FOR A SECOND, and now their forever mangled forms will help repeat that lesson should they get any funny ideas. Yep, you are a smooth, loyal badass.

You aim to be a CAVALCRUSADER when you reach the fleet, and have been WORKING YOUR ASS OFF to become one, even trying to ride your LUSUS to BATTLE. Well, TRY is the keyword here, let's face it, your lusus is fucking huge.

[Image soon to come]

Being a large SHOVELBEAST as you call his strange, strange type of classification, his thick and sharp shell-like hide makes it HARD AS BALLS to ride, MUCH LESS STAY ON. In fact, the large jackass tends to be a bit of a huge asshole to you, and sometimes wakes you up by quietly approaching you in your coon, and ROARING IN YOUR FUCKING EARS AT 5 IN THE AFTERNOON. Thanks, you REALLY NEED THIS TO HAPPEN the many times it does. That was bitter sarcasm, obviously. In truth, YOU HAVE A REAL DEEP, DEFEATED LOATHING towards your lusus. Well. Kind of. IT'S COMPLICATED.

You don't really have a lot of hobbies, because you've dedicated your life to your IMPORTANT CAUSE OF LOYALTY. The times you're home alone and your lusus is away does give you some times to switch on MEDIA and watch anything related to COOLNESS. From OLD SHOWS like HAPPY SWEEPS to movies with TROLL BRUCE WILLIS in it. That dude is a raging badass. He's cool, calm, collected, and you try your best to take after him. You've seen every single flick with in him it, and you tend to keep watching them over and over and over, constantly taking notes on things like posture and behavior, and compare them to notes from other shows that have REALLY COOL CHARACTERS. Amalgamation is a beautiful thing when perfected.

You do have one secret hobby though, something you hope no one ever finds out about. It is YOUR DIRTY SECRET, after all. In truth, you honestly enjoy red romance a little too much. You happen to just think it's perfect. A STRONG, COOL YET HARD BOILED CAVALCRUSADER that beats the CARDIOVASCULAR MUSCLE of a SOFT AND GENTLE LOVER. You engorge yourself on romance so much, that in truth you really long for it the most out of anything. You tend to try to WOO OTHERS with your COOL DEMEANOR and ALOOFNESS, but in truth that's working more or less the opposite. Even still, you read a lot in secrecy, though if anyone asked BOOKS ARE FOR NERDS, AND NERDS DESERVE A BEATING. Your favorite novel of all time is A MAN WHO SCALES OVER SOCIAL STANDARDS OF HIS CASTE AND GENDER IN SUCH A MATRIARCHAL SOCIETY, DESPITE THE SCRUTINY OF IT ALL, AND SLOWLY FALLS IN LOVE WITH A DASHING, CHARISMATIC AND RISK TAKER GAL WHO BARELY SHOWS HIM INTEREST. It's a very complicated book filled with a lot of controversial themes and a character whose morality scale is beyond the point of broken, and you can't help but IDENTIFY YOURSELF with it.

Alongside this, as stated before, you want to be a CAVALCRUSADER, and go SUBJUGATE planets in the name of the EMPRESS, and you train all the time in preparation for initiation. Your constant use of your maceKind has given you two really good swinging arms, letting you swing your mace at a speed to rival a MAJOR LEAGUE HOMERUN BALL BATTER, usually giving you the upper hand against troublesome lowbloods and hemo-rebels. Yes, you CARRY THAT CONFIDENCE and proudly WEAR IT ON YOUR SHOULDER. You WILL become a Cavalcrusader one day, NAYSAYERS BE DAMNED.

...In truth, you surprisingly QUESTION YOURSELF a lot in privacy. You suffer DOUBT over the future and if you made any of the right choices in life. For one, your aloofness has more or less ANNIHILATED your social life, making you QUADRANTLESS. AT NEARLY 10 SWEEPS. You were so caught up in being as loyal as possible and doing your job the best you could, you actually forgot about quadrants entirely thanks to picking on lowbloods too much. You've TRIED the whole SOCIAL THING and tried to play it as COOL AS POSSIBLE, but in truth you can see the looks in everyone's eyes. You know it too much to deny it. YOU FUCKED UP. ROYALLY. Because of your constant hemo-enforcement and being THE ONLY INDIGO IN YOUR AREA, nobody at all likes you--and not even in the black sense. LORD KNOWS YOU PINED THOSE FJORDS, only to come home EMPTY HANDED like always.

Your lusus, who you aptly like to refer as EARL ARCTURIUS, has lately been more and more abusive to you. Nothing but what you know for a fact are VERBAL INSULTS in the form of GROWLS and DISPARAGING LOOKS, actual abuse of usually attacking you randomly, BREAKING EVERYTHING IN FITS OF STUPID RAGE, and even going as far as CONSTANTLY SCARING OFF anyone who at least tried to be nice and get to know you. You hate it, because there are times when the big lug is LEGITIMATELY FRIENDLY AND NICE, and helps you through a lot of tough times. YOU'RE VERY CONFLICTED ON YOUR FEELINGS on the matter, and often don't know how to deal with it.

Because of how things are, you often sit on the balcony of your hive at night, drink in hand, and just stare at the sky, wondering what the point of it all is. Sometimes, you just wonder why you even exist, and why drones haven't just already come to murder you. It's funny--you were so roped up in royalty, you're fucked over because you were too busy doing your job, and it's going to cost you your life. And to the ones you want to please, you're no better than the hemo-rebels. Why? Because you seriously suck at this, and can't even do the most basic thing. Your chauvinistic behavior pushes everyone away, and in truth, it's lead you to consider ingesting sopor slime to ease the pain when you punish yourself.

Yes, you feel crushing guilt often times over what you've done to others. Truth is, DEATH SCARES THE HELL OUT OF YOU, and the thought of seeing a troll lie lifeless with no longer a spark in their eyes, just bothers the hell out of you. You honestly have grown REALLY TIRED OF THE ULTRA-VIOLENCE around you, and it's starting to take its immediate toll on you. You punish yourself in various ways when you go too far or screw up horribly on quadrant hunting, and this has constantly put you at death's door many, many times. Sometimes. Sometimes you wonder if you should just throw yourself off that balcony and be done with it. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe then you'd do everyone proud...

...Anyway, your TROLLTAG is imperialChevalier, and ya tend t' slur yer words randomly, cause frankly, ya really don't give a damn anymore.

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You are now JACGAL EILAIM, a solid 9 SWEEP OLD troll who's just living the good life for all to enjoy.

Yep, you are a SHINY YELLOWBLOOD who is obviously someone of charisma and attitude others can only bark at with PURE JEALOUSY. When they see you struttin' that SWAGGER they just get FROTHING AT THE MOUTH in PURE RAGE over how much more awesome you are than them. In fact, you get so many quadrants that you're just DROWNING IN--oh please like anyone honestly believes this fanfiction level garbage.

Really, you are A LONER. You don't actually throw a bunch of parties and go hogwild. You don't HAVE ANY QUADRANTS, actually. In fact, while you do have swagger, IT'S NOT THE SWAGGER YOU WISH IT WAS. You're NOWHERE NEAR that rich. In fact, YOU ARE BUMFUCK POOR. As poor as a REDBLOOD in fact. The world is harsh and cruel about that kind of thing.

You live in an ABANDONED HIVE CLUSTER that sits RIGHT ABOVE A MINESHAFT. There's always the constant threat of something sparking and BLOWING EVERYTHING OUT, but because you never use anything that could make it that dangerous, you tend to rather enjoy all the peace and quiet. In fact, you kind of just use most of the hives around you as some kind of SUPER HIVE. Too bad that there isn't really fuck all in there but empty space.

You tend to not go out much, due to there not really being anything nearby. You are ALL ALONE where you live, save for your lusus, a large ARMADILLO LIZARD with a spike clubbed tail, four eyes, and two mouths. Yes, SIR THEBAULT THE MAGNANIMOUS is a just, fair, and surprisingly warm in personality kind of custodian that YOU WOULDN'T TRADE FOR THE WORLD. You two are very close, seeing as it's just you and him out there. Luckily there are a LOT OF BUGS around the cluster, giving Sir Thebault plenty of food around you. As for your food, you ORDER STUFF ONLINE that's frozen and gets TRANSPORTED to you. If there's one blessing you had by inheriting this place, it's SOME RICH IDIOT WHO LEFT IT BEHIND. You, however, tend to go as long as you can between meals. It just makes life easier.

You have a VERY VARIED FIELD OF HOBBIES. Games, to books, to movies, to exploration, to Virtual FLARP, to sewing--even a spare bit of programming. You've successfully managed to hotwire your FETCH MODUS, to customize it to a CUSTOM FIRMWARE type. It's an awesome modus that lets you hold so much stuff...! Ok, not really. Truth is, you're worried about your modus. It's a hybrid model that you got thanks to illegally hard modding thanks to the internet and custom firmware completely legal and legitimate reasons. It uses two forms: an exo-modus, and an endo-modus. The exo-modus is the fetching part. You have to classify it under the three main slots; Strife, Camp, and Misc. Strife is for anytime you feel like you need to "smack a ho", Camp is for essentials, and Misc. for anything else you feel the need to store in it. On the downside, only 10 boxes are available per slot, and the items' sizes depend on if it stays 10 at max, or even up to 1 at max at worst.

That's not the part that has you concerned, however. No, you have to concentrate on the endo-modus. This is where it gets tricky. Each item has to be identified in the coding hash for it to be stored and kept properly. For example, say you want to store a pumpkin.

It would be "(@)hash[insert,hold,noloss] pumpkin;pumpkin" that you input. Simple, but it gets complicated. You can easily hotwire something to be sprung on the fly, like say a strife specibus.

(@)hash[insert,hold,readylaunch,eject_sequence_01_008_xsta r^](strife specibus here);(strife specibus here), [ready_node_#413], [dispatch_node_#612]

And so on and so forth. However, fuck up a SINGLE symbol or letter in there, even misplacing a comma completely erases the hash folder, and locks up the modus, requiring a complete factory reset, and re-inserting all of the hashes so you can get back what's stored, and put back in what isn't. It's time consuming, and painful. But so worth it when done right. After all, if done right, taking out and putting back in anything identified is so easy you just point and click. At least, unless a flash out happens. Why do you even still have this?

You're very active and perform a lot of ACROBATICS along the cluster. Leaping from wall to wall is easy as breathing to you, and it's all thanks to your power. You hold the power of LEVITATION, but not the extent you wish it was. When you focus on your surroundings and plot a point ahead, you can LAUNCH YOURSELF QUICKLY through the air--allowing you great speed of travel among busy structures. As long as there are walls, it's your domain to goof around. Sometimes DANGEROUS FAUNA arrive, and you protect yourself with your trusty BLADEKIND specibus. However, you don't wield a sword or other one handed weapon, nor are you the claymore type. No, you prefer the elegant and powerful TACHI. On the ground you're not so sure and tend to have to vault yourself around a lot for defense, but when there's walls to bound off of, your weapon becomes a DEADLY FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH. It's pretty heavy, relying on your cuts to be chops, and for your chops to COUNT. You never keep it out long, putting it away and pulling it out before making your FATAL STRIKES.

Your trolltag is grinningAficionado, and you tend to /emphasize/ what you're /saying/ sometimes.

[Rai-CH]

(( Repost of awkwardArtist/avariciousAmbition I can't remember what tag she's under anymore ))

>Be the terribly unlucky troll.


Your name is Katrin Rissah and you are a redblood. You’ve had your fair share of ups and downs in your life, though for the longest time you’ve felt like you’ve experienced more of the latter. But for now things might be looking up for you. Hopefully.

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The aforementioned ups and downs are generally caused by your greedy nature. You’re somewhat of a thief, and at one stage were a con artist. You used to run a business, where you’d fix electronics for insanely high prices. As expected, you eventually conned the wrong troll, and fell into a serious of misfortunes. This included getting involved with a blueblood that had a serious unrequited blackcrush on you, and losing both your hands in separate incidents involving sniper rifles.
Needless to say, you gave up on that business once you lost the ability to fix things. Not being able to afford decent cybernetic replacements really suck.

Now that the whole fiasco as been sorted out (or so you believe), you feel that you can get your life back on track. Not having to constantly live in fear means that you now indulge in your other hobbies! Your current favourite is reading, particularly those of the fantasy or mystery genre. Oh, how you wish to be one of those in your novels, who go on amazing adventures and have the courage to face their enemies. And that is why you write your own fanfiction under a few different pseudonyms. Your writing skills are mediocre at best, and your original characters are all terrible self-inserts, so you’re too nervous to publish your work online.
You also love to read comic books, but you never have enough spare change to buy any. At one point in your life, you used to draw your own comics. That love was abruptly cut short with the loss of your hands. Once again, not being able to afford decent cybernetic replacements really suck.

Seeing as you lack the skills and the blood for a decent job, you resort to the art of pickpocketing in order to earn your keep. It’s no easy business, and you’re lucky to score a small amount of caegars in a night. However, this has allowed you to become quite proficient at a few things: using your strife specibus and running away really, really fast. You use the knifeKind specibus, and carry multiple kitchen knives that you’ve pilfered from various places. When the going gets tough, or you’re just getting impatient with unsuccessful pickpockets, you just stab someone, then take their stuff and run like the dickens. It’s a miracle you’ve only received minor injuries from this.

Your hive is located in a run-down lowblood community, on the outskirts of the city. The area is, to put it lightly, a shithole. Your hive itself is not much better. You intend to keep it clean, but between your forgetfulness and your Raccoon lusus’ habit of going through the trash and bringing in anything interesting, it just doesn’t happen. Despite this, you still manage to find whatever you’re looking for, whether it’s your husktop or an unopened bottle of booze.
And no, you don’t want to elaborate on that last thing. You do not have an addiction and you are working on dropping the habit ok there’s nothing wrong with wasting money on alcohol no not at all.

Your trolltag is avariciousAmbition and <( Y' have a habit 'f mumblin', though y' also like t' wrap y' words in speech bubbles, like how they do 'n comic books. ).

tl;dr

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DETAILS:
NAME: Katrin Rissah
AGE: 7.5 Solar Sweeps
TROLLTAG: avariciousAmbition
BLOOD: #8D0000 (Red, Hue 0)
TYPING QUIRK: Encloses words in a speech bubble “<( )”, shortens some 'f her words.
SYMBOL: Signifies a new day.
LUSUS: Raccoon
STRIFE SPECIBUS: knifeKind
POWER: N/A
FETCH MODUS: Paragraph (Must write out a paragraph about the item she wishes to withdraw)

SGRUB-SPECIFIC:
TITLE: Ward of Time
LAND: Land of Ponds and Clocks
MOON: Derse

[Thunder Reign]

Who is this strange troll? You zoom in to investigate the little oddity.

PLEASE DO NOT POST YOUR PROFILE IN ANY COLOR OTHER THAN BLACK, IT MAKES IT EXTREMELY HARD TO READ

[ChiliConCarne]

==> Be the yandere.

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.

TL;DR

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Name: Noctua Enetha

Sweeps: 7 (roughly 15 human years)
Trolltag: dualProcessor
Lusus: Owl, called Doctor Whoo
Blood: Blue (#002bcc)
Hive: A building built on a cliff, overlooking all below it for miles around
Strife Specibus: axekind
Fetch Modus: Slap (hits it repeatedly to get items)
Land: Land of Wheels and Mirrors
Title: Witch of Life
Quirk: Hitting multiple keys at the same time when typing words

[Overlard]

((This is, again, a revamp of poisonousFumigator!))
> Be safe

Only as long as you KLICKeep back!



Your name is Platar Revbaq. You are approximately EIGHT sweeps of age and are not exactly the most CALM trolls on the planet, even for an ANONYMOUS (#7f7f7f) blooded troll.

You reside in a small LAWNRING in one of Alternia's many GRASSLANDS, along with your ARMADILLO custodian. He is incredibly CAUTIOUS and warns you to stay away from other trolls almost constantly, usually by nipping at your heels whenever you leave. You tend to ignore him about that particular point, but some of his paranoia has gotten through to you, leaving you constantly SECOND GUESSING everyone's actions and feelings towards you.

The reason you hide your blood is actually quite simple. Through a combination of paranoia and intense fear, you've grown to resent your own caste for the stigmas it carries. No matter the dangers of being an anon, you're sure it's a hell of a lot better than just showing off your own position. You take the hemospectrum pretty seriously for an anonymous blood otherwise, mostly to save your own skin.

Still, some trolls insist on bugging you about your blood. Mostly by threatening to stab you just to see it. To get them off your back, you've taken up WELDING so you may create material bribes to use on them. This usually means you make shitty pieces of "art" out of various metals to keep the higherbloods happy, while the lowerbloods clamor for armor made out of the mind crushingly slow process of forge welding. So far you've kept your life intact by operating on an economy of favors and bartering. However, you're almost certain one day they'll all backstab you so you've your whole hive rigged to straight up collapse in on itself if anyone tries to trespass. Save for your secretly and painstakingly built hidey hole in the basement.

You also take time to collect as many scrap materials as you can, usually tossing them into indiscriminate piles around your hive. You never know when you may need some to start a new project, especially since your other hobby of DEMOLITION tends to result in more useless rubble than usable material, but you just can't help yourself. The thought of being able to so easily take down large structures just makes you feel so safe and powerful. The thing that puts you most at peace, however, is FIRE. The beautiful glow and warmth just takes you back to being a little wriggler, surrounded by your lusus' safe and tough shell. You can totally stop setting things on fire whenever you want, you swear.

Your strife specibus is allocated to fistKind and matchKind. Given how tough it is to forge weapons using the basic equipment you currently have, fists are actually pretty useful.

Your fetch modus is set to LEAST NEEDED. You're only allowed to retrieve items at the top of the tack in your sylladex, and the stacks are sorted according to what you need least being at the top and what you need most at the bottom. You're pretty sure you were drunk when you set this.

Your trolltag is "glowingMechanist" and "You're KLICKinda jittery."
TL;DR

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Name: Platar Revbaq
Age: 8 sweeps
Blood: Anonymous (#7f7f7f)
Lusus: Armadillo
Strife Specibus: fistKind, matchKind
Fetch Modus: Least Needed: Least needed items on top of stack, most needed on bottom
Trolltag: glowingMechanist
Quirk: k = KLICK c = CLICK, like a lighter being flicked open and closed

[Ocfos]

Your name is Zenkia Nefeax, and you steal with your arms, legs, and whatever else you might have available.

As you obviously already know, you're a thief. Not just any thief, but the best. At least that's what you consider yourself to be.
You've spent most of your 8 sweeps alive trying to make a living through various means of thievery, such as pickpocketing and burglary.
When you were younger, you used to have an accomplice, which was also your matesprit. One night, she got caught during one of your break-ins and...Well, it didn't go too well. At least not for her.
You still keep a photo of her in your pocket as a memoriam...But you haven't really looked at it that much of recent.
When she died, you decided to take over her old hive. Said hive is located on a mountainside overlooking a desert oasis, which is at the bottom of a cleft.
The entrance itself is purposely hidden behind a rocky cover door with a secret mechanism triggering it. Never know who'd want to track you down to get their stuff back, after all.
Your line of work is quite risky, obviously. But despite the many scars, broken limbs, and concussions you've suffered, you've stayed with it. In the end, you're proud of your work, and like to stay vigilant despite the many bruises it causes.

As for personality, you're what most people would describe as a bitch. But hey, can't satisfy everyone. Not like it matters to you, anyway. They're all idiots. Rich idiots.
You wasn't always like you are now, but things changed when your matesprit died. No people to stick along with on break-ins meant it also got harder, as you didn't have someone to distract the victim while you were doing your business. At least you were the one that used to do all the sneaking, so it was a bit easier to adapt to it.
Your power makes it somewhat easier to steal aswell, but not by much. Your power is pretty simple, and makes you blend in with the backdrop. Pretty much the same as invisibility, except it's more of a "Transparentness". If you move too much, people would easily be able to see your outline against the backdrop...Provided they were to look in your general direction, anyway.
You can't really blend in with stuff for too long, however. Most anything over six minutes causes you to pass out from mental strain, and after around three minutes you get a nosebleed. Though, you have to rest it for a few hours before trying it again when you've done it for too long within a short timespan.

For self-protection, you've bought a set of leather armour, which has proven itself handy more than once. The getup is paired with a set of daggers, and of recent, also a set of throwing daggers.
As for your modus, you've picked one that has been quite good for your..."Business". It's the Pickpocket modus, which makes you not only able to access your own sylladex through your pockets, but also others' sylladex through THEIR pockets. Though, what you can take from others is limited to things not bigger than the hole of the pocket you reach into. The modus doesn't require any cards, but the downside of it is that if more than 50 "Cards" are filled, it makes you feel the burden of all items you're carrying.
Said downside can get quite troublesome, especially if you're in someone else's hive. The biggest problem is how forgetful you are about emptying the sylladex.

Your trollTag is silentPillager and you Try t- stay -ut -f sight. --bvi-usly, that d-esn't always w-rk.

SGRUB:

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Role: Rogue of Void
Land: of Obsidian and Clouds (Lava, obsidian, and oddly thick clouds everywhere!)
Consorts: Fire Lizards
Critters: Scarabs

[crazylego]

>Be the lazy smartass.

You are the lazy smartass.

Your name is NENSAM PADLOV, and you are 6 sweeps old. Obsessions of yours come and go, but the ones that have seemed to stick with you have been SPACE THEORY, BIOCHEMISTRY, and CREEPY THINGS. You spend most of your time on your HUSKTOP, either DOING PUZZLES or READING SPOOKY STORIES. As a troll of HIGH INTELLECT, you cannot stand bigots and numbskulls. This causes many ARGUMENTS to erupt with many people you talk to. You are LAZY and OVERTLY NARCISSISTIC, and you honestly don’t care that it makes others not like you.
You love dabbling in BIOCHEMISTRY, often performing EXPERIMENTS on the floor of your respiteblock using the blood of other trolls. Of course, you don’t kill the trolls. No way. You’re way too lazy for that. Instead, your LUSUS, who feeds off of the blood of other trolls like a rainbow drinker, just GIVES YOU THE EXTRA from her meals. Though you and your lusus aren’t particularly close, you do appreciate her doing that for you.

Okay, actually, you more than dabble. In fact, experimenting is kind of a HUGE PASTIME of yours. You believe that all useless trolls or trolls that have served their purpose in life will all HAVE THEIR BODIES HARVESTED IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE. By you. This is by far your most common THREAT, and the only one that isn’t completely empty. And the whole “getting the leftovers from your lusii’s meal” thing up there? That was a bit of an understatement. Your lusus actually DRAGS BACK THE WHOLE CARCASS, which you keep in your laboratory and perform experiments on. In fact, if you weren’t doing these experiments and you didn’t have to run across the lab to grab materials (and get out your excitement), you would be very fat from not moving ever at all. You have achieved QUITE A BIT in biochemistry, as far as frankensteining yourself a servant named SANKIS MISMIT*, but your WORLD DOMINATION COMPLEX assures that it will NEVER BE USED FOR GOOD. Your diabolical laugh is scarier than that of a practiced mad scientist, but then again, you kind of are one yourself. There’s not a non-malicious bone in your body, besides an irresistible urge to COMFORT PEOPLE WHO ARE CRYING. You hate that fucking lousy weakness for tears. You want it to die. Miserably.

With your weakness for waterworks being stated, it shall be mentioned that you prefer to NEVER CRY, and you STAY AWAY FROM CRYBABIES AT ALL COSTS. Even if they’re your moirail, which you don’t have, because you HATE QUADRANTS, which will likely get you culled. Ugh, quadrants. They will be the first thing you get rid of when you are supreme ruler of everything.

A singular POSTER of the cosmos is on the wall of your respiteblock, and it’s marked up with where you believe could be NEW POSSIBLE PLACES OF ALIEN LIFE. One day you will travel to all of the planets and stars that you marked on that obsolete little picture of yours. All of the planets. All of them. And you will discover something amazing and win the Troll Nobel Prize of Scientific Competence. That is, if you’re not too lazy to go to the ceremony. Or the planets, for that matter.
Another one of your interests is SCARY THINGS. You have a whole folder on your husktop dedicated to SHOCK FICS and GHOST STORIES. Your favorite movie is the Troll-equivalent of the SAW series, whose titles range from 43-79 words long and therefore will not be put here. You love to make up your own TRAPS and MANIPULATIVE TORTURES on your husktop, but there are a few reasons why they COULD NEVER BE CARRIED OUT. First, you’re incredibly LAZY. Second, you’re a YELLOWBLOOD, and that means there is only a small range of trolls lower than you for the picking. Finally, your lowblood status means that you aren’t as incredibly thirsty as the higherbloods. You find that simply scheming and planning such traps suffices in quelling your TROLL NATURE.

Ugh, your lowblood status. You should be a HIGHBLOOD, at least, that’s what your SIGN indicates. As a GRUB, you were given the WRONG SYMBOL by some careless fucknut. This symbol, MICROSCOPIUM, dictates that you should be in the INDIGO RANGE, but you’re not. You’re a YELLOWBLOOD. What you don’t realize, though, is that it’s your SIGN THAT SHOULD CHANGE, not your BLOOD COLOR. Whether this mistake is responsible for your GOD COMPLEX or not is a mystery, but chances are it at least CONTRIBUTES TO IT.

Though you DON’T COMPLETELY AGREE with the hemospectrum, you follow it. You aren’t opposed to it enough to actually DO SOMETHING about it, so you obey the highbloods in the most PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE WAY POSSIBLE. And believe me, you do love to pass off SNARKY REMARKS when being bossed around by highbloods. However, there is one part of the hemospectrum you follow flawlessly, and that is the DIGUST OF MUTANTBLOODS and the belief that they should be culled. You aren’t overly rude to lowerbloods, but you do ensure that they know they are indeed lower than you. If the world went your way, then EVERYONE WOULD BE. God, you’re a narcissist.

Finally, you have the ability to DISTORT THE PERCEPTION OF OBJECTS TO BOTH YOURSELF AND LOWERBLOODS/OTHER YELLOWBLOODS. It’s like a function on a camera: it doesn’t really change the object at all, it just changes how someone perceives it. This includes all senses; sight, smell, touch, etc. Of course, it takes up LOTS OF ENERGY and is very temporary, lasting only minutes. There are very few instances where this is EVEN USEFUL, but you guess it’s good to entertain yourself with.

Your trolltag is torpidChemist and you tend to… use large words to flaunt your expansive vocabulary, while also extending your sentences for as long as you can; you love to keep people waiting for your response…


If you were to play SGRUB, you would be the Rogue of Space in the Land of Books and Frogs.

*Sankis Mismit

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tl;dr

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Name: Nensam Padlov
Age: 6 sweeps (13 human years)
Blood Color: CBCB15
Trolltag: torpidChemist
Title: Heir of Space
Land: Land of Books and Frogs (LOBAF)
Dreamself: Prospit

Other Art:

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Talk Sprites:


Dream:


Lab Coat (Clean):


Lab Coat (Post-Experiment):


Dead:


God Tier:


Humanstuck:


Trickster:


Creepystuck (Taintedstuck, WTFstuck, etc.)

Full Reference Sheet (Land, Lusus, Respiteblock, Hive, etc.):
http://crazylego.deviantart.com/art/...mise-330738022

[Syvar]

(Update of armoredScholar)
> Be the reckless murderous loser.

... Fitting, but I refuse to be referred to as that.

> Be really hard to kill.

That's more likek it!



Suit of armor?
Suit of armor.

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Your name is DYANAS LUCANI. You are 8 sweeps old, a blueblood, and you really hate crayons.

You used to be very relaxed, easy going guy, happy guy. But the circumstances have changed that. Though you try to maintain the image of being relaxed, you're miserable, depressed, and irritable. You've become prone to just start throwing punches. You're optimistic though, even though every time you start a sentence with "Maybe" someone crushes it out with cynicism. Which tends to be true. You've ceased to really give a shit about those above you on the hemospectrum. You still play the hemospectrum card on irritating lowbloods though.

You're really into stories, told through any medium. You could sit around and read a book for hours on end, love movies, and only really play videogames with a good backstory. Adventure books are your favorite stories of them all. You're a huge freaking softy and can't handle sad endings though. They make you cry. Funny, considering how you've survived multiple stabbings, one instance of being impaled, and a gunshot wound that rendered your ventricular pump useless. You like to read nonfiction books too. You try to learn as much about everything as you can. You've read books on biology, webpages about astronomy, articles about physics, psychological studies, and so much more.

You live at the base of a mountain, nestled in a forest. It's a castle of a hive that is absolutely loaded with suits of armor, none of which fit. Not surprising for one of your blood. Not to mention the fact that your Lusus is armored himself. He's a giant stag beetle. Beetledad you call him. He eats nothing but slightly rotten vegetation and sweets. You like to spar with him, often wrestling to decide the victor of silly little conflicts such as who gets the last of the dessert and whatnot.

Speaking of fighting, you use the ArmorKind strife specibus, and very rarely BladeKind. It hurts quite a bit more to get kicked in the face with steel greaves, and it hurts a lot less when a piece of metal is there to deflect a blade from your flesh. At the moment, you have one completed set of armor, your ancestors, and part of one made for you by your best friend. It was partially destroyed in your last fight with your kismesis, and much of it was lost. Your ancestral armor is self repairing, with minor damage taking as little as minutes, and major damage taking days or even weeks. The armor made for you was much more protective, leaving practically nothing exposed. Too bad it's gone.

Life has been tough for you. But hey, it's Alternia, right? Where do we even start... How about how you killed your friend? That's always a good place to start. Some time ago, you were confused over your feelings. You were feeling flushed for something like, what, three girls? You went to your friend for advice, but he left without a word. You didn't hold it against him though, and narrowed it down fairly quickly anyways. The first girl scared the shit out of you, so she was out. The next one was cool and nice and-- Wait, getting side tracked. Anyways, she was pretty awesome. The third girl was sweet and friendly, and always made you smile. So it was down to those two. The third girl almost seemed interested to you, so you devoted your attentions to her. Unfortunately, that friend you went to for advice was also interested in her. Long story short, she chose him over you, you killed him, she went insane, you became depressed, friend came back, she was still nuts, they both died, and we're back to you being depressed. Then, you went back to girl number two. What a fuck around that was. In trying to win her favour with, well, a favour you managed to get your hand burned badly enough to need skin grafts and there was nerve damage and your horn was also broken in the same fight and you still never really got that toxin back. You didn't see her much after all that. Then your kismesis killed you, medically. You weren't really dead though. Ventricular pumps can be replaced if done quickly enough. And so yours was. Only so you could live to be tortured by your ex-moirail. Lovely girl, too bad your kismesis was cheating on you with her. It got really complex. Who knows where your romantic failings will take you next?

You're a mercernary now. A little hired help, if you will. Simple enough. A client pays you, tells you what to do, and you do it. You've been hired to protect trolls from planned attacks they've heard of, hired to kill trolls, hired to scare trolls, hired to beat the living shit out of trolls. If it's violent, you've probably been paid to do it, or will be paid to do it shortly. You worked with two other trolls, a pyrokinetic yellowblood, and an extremely hemoloyal tealblood. You considered the latter your friend, but the yellowlbood... You ended up killing the useless slob. He was a liability. Your tealblooded friend seems to have dissappeared, but you'd gladly offer him his job back if you ever met again.

You've acquired a rediculous number of injuries over the past few perigees. Countless scars up and down your arms and legs (mostly from the torture, but a few from meeting your friend and general practician, who you don't see very often anymore. Like, ever.) A few from your ex-kismesis, namely the ones on your cheeks. She also cut off one of your hands. Some from some blind bitch, who stabbed out your eye too. With a crayon. Fucking crayons. You also lost your foot getting tortured. Your abdomen is riddled with scars from various stabbings and slahings and almost any wound imaginable really. You are a walking medical mIrAcLe.

You use the Speedreader Modus. The name of the item you want is hidden in a page of a story, and you have to find it to get the item in question.

Your trollTag is armoredScholar and you speak with the okekaisonal keklikeking noise.

TL;DR

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Name: Dyanas Lucani
Title: Knight of Heart
Age: 8 Sweeps
Blood Colour: Blue (#005CB9)
TrollTag: armoredScholar
Typing style: Replaces hard "C" noises with a clicking noise (kek)
Sign: Dunno what to call it. A circle with his horns.
Strife Specibus: ArmorKind, BladeKind.
Modus: Speedreader
Interests: Anything with a story. Be it an RPG or a shitty film. Reading other topics too, like sciences.
Lusus: Stag beetle

[Mythee]

Normal RP (steel) and steampunk RP (brass) iterations.

Lusus:

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Random art:

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Drawn herself lol
by myself!
gift art by Zeph!
Collab with Chama! (drew Zaisha and the knot xD)

HERO MODE!:

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Ancestor art (Darefate):

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by Myself
by an IRLfriend (Fushi-Chou on DA)

> Your name is ◐ ZAISHA WOTHOG.

You are always clad in SPIKES AND ARMOR, suitable for one whose main INTERESTS involve a fascination for all things EXTREME. Your RIDICULOUS STRENGTH helps with it, as well as with your clumsy and somewhat disastrous choice of strife specibus, wreckingKind. No matter how dumb, sweeps of practicing your hobbies have given you STUNT EXPERTISE and, uh, accustomed you to EMERGENCY FIRST-AID. Regardless, frequent injury and blood loss has made you NOTICEABLY WOBBLY and TYPICALLY TIRED, prone to having ill-timed moments of wavering strength, balance and lucidity. Fellow trolls may compare you to a Maimmoth drunk off of sopor slime, brazenly dishing out haphazard destruction through unsuspecting scenery only to trip over a pebble and fracture all four-hundred-thirty-two vertebrae.

For more than just the spikes, people find you to be AGGRESSIVE. You can't help it; you LIKE people, really you do, and could even count among the less morally ambiguous of trolls- but you tend to fuel your social interactions with black feelings. Obviously, ADRENALINE is your choice substitute for actual energy. For a more normal friendship, one would have to get through that thick head of yours. You may not be the brightest bulb in the RUSTBLOOD batch but you generally avoid highbloods to stay off their radar. Except Jarvan. He's a buddy.

You enjoy THE SKILLFUL EMPLOY OF BAGS AND POCKETS, cumbersome primitive carrying devices nonetheless more practical than DIFFICULT FETCH MODI. They serve as your escape from the terrible BLOODBANK FETCH MODUS. You have no blood to spare to withdraw items via its vampiric shenanigans, but it is sometimes inevitable, especially when another effect of your fatigue is that you tend to be FORGETFUL enough that you must put things you can't afford to lose in it anyways.

Perhaps a side-effect of getting used to lugging bags around, you have an irresistible compulsion to CARRY THINGS. If there are no THINGS, you will settle for PEOPLE. Sometimes, to be EXTREME, you will try to LIFT AS MANY THINGS AND/OR PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE, which due to aforementioned WOBBLINESS always results in grievous injury to yourself and/or other persons. When this happens, you try to make the victim's recovery EXTREME. More like torture, really.

Your trolltag is xtendedYawn and your typing can be Rat^her pr^ickl^y and y^ou X^ercise the let^ter X wh^ere it sh^ouldn't X^ist... w^hy we^re we X^plaining thi^s agai^n

Your land is LOBAF, the Land of Brick and Fountains, and your class and aspect are the Knight of Blood.

[Cliff_Racer]

>Be the cool anime dirtblood who lives life on the edge.

Da hell are ya doin, talkin about me like dat? I'll have ya know I'm da best at [INFO PROVIDED]! Not dat you should know dat kinda stuff!"

>Be the dirtblood on the run



You are now AGKATA JORANA, and you're on the run from agents who study the PARANORMAL.

You are, by definition, a mostly completely normal DIRTBLOOD. You live in a hive surrounded primarily by nothin' but nature- TALL GRASS, to be exact. Your intrests include TRACK AND FIELD, MARATHON RUNNING, HUNTING and FIDUSPAWN, a hobby you tell nary a soul of. Honestly! You're NEVER going to tell a SINGLE SOUL that your Pengageddon is one of the highest leveled Pengageddons in existance. That's the ONLY information you'd keep to yourself any night. Troll by night, fiduspawn champ by day. That's how it should be, and that's the only way it will be. End of story.

Right now, you're a prime target for a mysterious group of anonymous-blooded trolls. Reason one, you're the kind of troll they look for to be cannon fodder. Reason two, your lusus is the kind of lusus they'd want to keep all locked up to study. That's because it's a very MYSTERIOUS beast, one whose nature could be classified as PARANORMAL. He's what could be described as a cougar, but his behaviour is incredibly unusual. He chooses a target to stalk, and tracks that target with uncanny ability. It makes the target feel increasingly paranoid, until the target finally slips up and dies- either by its own means, or 'suicide.' Then, the lusus eats. He's done this to you, in the past, too!

Usually this is too much work, so you just hunt for him instead.

You're the kind of guy who likes to do buisness. If it's not for your gain, it's no good. That said, you're generally rather SUSPICIOUS of people exactly for that reason. If someone can manage to get on your PROBABLY OKAY TO RELAX AROUND list, they can find you to be a rather agreeable guy. However, that tends to not happen often because you're usually a BIG JERK to most of the people you talk to. Totally fine, though. You don't want anyone too close, anyways. Leads to more painful betrayal!

Your strife specibus is allocated to ballKind. You normally just kick out some inflatable piece of shit you found, it hits hard enough.

Your fetch modus is TERMINATION, as much as you hate it. In order to retrieve items, you must first destroy something else you've already captchalogued- this doesn't consume the card, just the item inside. You normally just keep seperate sheets of blank paper in it for this reason.

Your trolltag is trackedTestee and, Like it or not, da letter 'd' shows up [INFO PROVIDED] more times den ya'd like da see.

[Overlard]

(( Replacement profile for insufferableDigger! ))

> Be a real asshole

-----D Say that to my face, not online and see what happens.

> That was the dumbest retort I've heard all day

-----D I don't need smartness to beat the rocks outta you, punk.



Your name is ASIRON LARLIO and you are EIGHT SWEEPS of age. You are already SICK of this introduction BULLCRAP and want it to be over and done with already. That includes all 154 POUNDS and FIVE FEET, EIGHT INCHES of you.

You reside in a large hive within a SWELTERING JUNGLE with your ANTEATER lusus. While he may find the area's heat just fine and dandy, you absolutely despise the place. The only reason you settled in the area was due to him pestering you about it, something about him not wanting to travel far to get food or some such.

You really weren't listening half the time; you're mostly only looking out for number one. Friends are just meat shields to be used in the future; enemies are things to be pounded into dust, all that good stuff. Of course, you never really let on just how little you care about the lives of people you know, you've gotten quite good at the whole "pretending to listen" thing. Granted, you're not exactly the most brilliant of trolls, or even somewhat approaching "moderately smart", but you're certain that EXCESSIVE STRENGTH is all you need to survive. You're very quick to point this out in case someone tries to make fun of you.

Your BLUE BLOOD (#00507F) has granted you a higher than average position in society, though it's clearly not the highest blue can go. You usually just use it as justification for declaring yourself better than people and killing lowbloods with impunity. You haven't killed nearly as many as you claim, your custodian would beat you senseless if you tried! However this doesn't stop you from insulting as many people as you like. That includes those snooty seadwellers!

Most of your time is spent EXCAVATING the land around your hive, trying to dig a series of tunnel networks reaching around the whole of the jungle. The reasons for this are quite simple. You need a faster way of reaching different areas to make sure people aren't burning the place down for kicks and you can only install air conditioning units in actual structures. You also tend to look for TREASURE that has been left behind in the ground by other trolls. They usually vary in VALUE and overall USE, but you find the process entertaining.

Your other hobbies include the practice of COOKING. Mostly meals made out of whatever plants you happened to grab outside that night. They tend to produce some rather, ahem, 'interesting' effects on you. You usually just leave those in cupboard where they belong and stick with making plain old soup. You also like to CHALLENGE yourself near constantly. If something looks IMPOSSIBLE or maybe even UNPOSSIBLE you will attempt it anyway. You simply HAVE to prove you're the strongest of the strong and everyone should know this off the bat.

You tend to collect a lot of scars as a result.

Your strife specibus is shovelKind, which is very self-explanatory: Flat side for (mostly) nonlethal, bladed for lethal.

Your fetch modus is EJECTION. It drops whatever you had stored in the card without any catch. Well, besides the fact it is always directly above you. You've learned to not try carrying any thermal hulls around with you.

Your trolltag is stalwartHarbinger and you -----D Apply blunt force to all your grounded problems, you dig?

TL;DR

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Name: Asiron Larlio
Age: 8 sweeps
Blood: Blue (#00507F)
Lusus: Anteater
Strife Specibus: shovelKind
Fetch Modus: Ejection. All objects are ejected directly above the user and cannot be placed directly out of the sylladex.
Trolltag: stalwartHarbinger
Quirk: Prefix shovel ( -----D ), frequent references to things having to do with digging, rocks, the ground, etc.

[Teslamagnetic Integration]

> Be the bumbling battle maniac

what? maN that'S cold

> Be the active thrill seeker.

Eh I gUESS that'll do



Your name is now TAISON TAVISH, a fresh GREENBLOOD of 8 ½ SWEEPS.

You live alone in a particularly nice MOUNTAINSIDE HIVE, and by mountainside you mean it literally—it’s carved into the sheer face of a Cliffside in a deep and tall mountain! You tend to go to and fro by means of ROCK CLIMBING, which helps keep you on your toes at all times. Your SALAMANDER lusus is a pretty cool dude who generally keeps to himself, sneezing very corrosive mucus on everything to tunnel around. He has no eyes, and relies entirely on smell and hearing. You don’t really mind him, as he usually only gets on your case when you sit around doing nothing all day. You do, however, always stay behind him in case he starts sneezing up again. You don’t want to know what that mucus will do to organic tissue.

You tend to be PRETTY GREGARIOUS on Trollian, often messing about and being pretty playful with others, joking around and whatnot. You’re NOT REAL SURE how others gauge you, but you really kind of don’t care. You go by the BEAT OF YOUR OWN DRUMHIDE, and if they don’t like it they can deal. UNLESS THEY’RE HIGHBLOODS, in which you cut that out ASAP. You tend to value a highblood’s opinion, and work pretty hard to make sure you’re at the TOP PHYSICAL CONDITION for inevitable conscription. You want to MAKE THEM PROUD of your abilities.
Yeah, you’re a simple greenblood, and sit around the middle of the Hemospectrum. You don’t mind it, really, as it’s a pretty comfortable position. After all, you’re still valued and worth something, and not low or seen as nothing but dirt like the browns and reds. You make sure not to anger highbloods too much, or else suffer consequence otherwise.

There’s more to you than that, though! You tend to have a few hobbies lying about, though they’re not really anything to brag about. First and foremost, you are a BOXER troll, who loves getting DOWN AND DIRTY with enemies. You train NIGHTLY, often working on your kinks and openings in search of ways to circumvent them all, and make them from a weakness into strength. However, to say you just box would be a lie; you also use your joints and legs to fight. Knees, elbows, wrists, knuckles, heels, fists—all are weapons at your disposal. When you’re not working on that, though, you tend to often like ROUGHIN’ IT IN THE WILD by means of limiting yourself to your environments, and try to survive. It’s a challenge that truly makes you FEEL ALIVE, and nothing quite beats knowing you defeated nature at its worst. You tend to know where to look for food and how to find bodies of water through VARIOUS SIGNS IN FOLIAGE AND WILDLIFE, alongside what to avoid and what’s ideal for killing and eating.

Aside from all of that, you also enjoy some smaller, more relaxing things on the side to help ensure you don’t go overboard. You really enjoy TRASHY REALITY TV PROGRAMS, and it’s both a love that’s ironic, and completely un-ironic. Shows like JETSAM SHORE and PHOBIA FACTOR tend to be victims of both RIDICULE and pure INTRIGUE. I mean, how can you go on knowing that PAWLIN DREAPE and MIKHOV SONTEN are suddenly not being bros and hate each other for a reason soon to be shown?! You just HAVE TO KNOW!

All that aside, as a green you have a psychic power, but it’s not really THAT GREAT. After all, you are a green, so it makes sense you don’t really have powers like the lower castes. Your power is INTUITIVE INSTINCT. Basically, you can vaguely sense when something is ABOUT TO HARM YOU. A ringing goes off in your head, CUEING you of any THREATS about with the intent to KILL YOU. It doesn’t always work, however, and usually only applies with KILLING INTENT on your end. It’s a power you generally consider useless, because IT’S PRETTY EASY to tell when an animal wants to EAT YOU.

You hope upon conscription that your SPECIALIZED ABILITIES will put you on your own REALITY TV SERIES, or at least through a PROFESSIONAL SPORT like WRESTLING or BOXING. The idea of a crowd cheering for you as you utterly bash down a foe while filled with adrenaline makes your spine tingle in anticipation. You’ll keep fighting hard to ensure that happens. In fact, you don’t even really use a weapon--your FISTS and YOUR BODY is a weapon. With that, you allocated to FISTKIND, to make sure to empower your punches and MAKE THEM LETHAL. That way, when you go for the killing blow, YOU GO FOR IT.

Your trolltag is adaptiveSurvivalist, and you PUNCtuatE yoUr vErbal PUNCHES StroNg aNd hard

tl;dr:

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Name: Taison Tavish
Age: 8.5 Sweeps
Blood: Camouflage Green (#3C3910)
Lusus: Salamander
Strife Specibus: fistKind
Fetch Modus: Tower: Has to stack carefully, with heavier items on the bottom, or else everything tumbles out.
Trolltag: adaptiveSurvivalist
Quirk: P, U, N, C, H, E, and S's are all capitalized.

[Captain Whosit]

(Updating shiningSwordsaint.)



Your name is ALTAIA IMPEZA.

You are a blue-blood and you like to make sure that EVERYBODY KNOWS IT. You enjoy your position near the top of the hemospectrum, lording it over those below you while showing deference those above you, but only when you have to. While you reluctantly acknowledge that sea dwellers deserve obedience, you also believe in the ANCIENT RIVALRY between the landed nobility and the watery royals, and you tend to give the fishies a hard time. You never associate with low-bloods unless you must, and when you do, you TEND TO CULL THEM FOR YOUR OWN AMUSEMENT.

Your lusus is a creature befitting one of your stature. It is a creature with the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle: Two of the most noble creatures joined as one. The fact that you can also ride her is pretty sweet, too. Every now and then, the two of you take to the Alternian skies, swooping down on unsuspecting low-bloods and tearing them apart. It is wonderful BONDING TIME. You like to BRAG ABOUT ALL THE CULLING YOU’VE DONE, but you may EXAGGERATE A LITTLE BIT. While you’ve certainly done your fair share of killing, it has not been as indiscriminate or widespread as you’d like people to believe. You are smart enough (okay, your lusus is smart enough) to know that killing too much will invite reprisals, and your BBFF also makes you take a chill pill now and again.

You live atop a small mountain in a hive that resembles a fortress. Short of a terribly risky climb, the only way up is by air. However, in the event that your lusus is not available, there is a SECRET PASSAGE, the existence of which is known only to YOU AND YOUR CLOSEST FRIEND (and SHE only knows about it because she's a snoopy bitch). Inside your hive is a large gymnasium where you like to practice your SKILLS WITH WEAPONS AND THE MARTIAL ARTS. Your life's dream is to join the noble ranks of the BLOOD KNIGHTS who lead the lesser warriors into battle. As a noble, you are PRACTICED IN ARCHERY and though you are competent, you MUCH PREFER THE SWORD. You like to do things up close and personal. This is why you also have a fistkind card, because nothing’s quite as relaxing as a GOOD BRAWL. YOU'RE NOT QUITE AS AWESOME AS YOU THINK YOU ARE, but you are still pretty deadly.

While you do your best to live like a proper blue-blood, you do have a SECRET PASSION. You enjoy writing VERY BAD SELF-INSERT FICTION, often taking the role of THE SWORDSAINT, who mercilessly culls all of her enemies and wins the admiration and loathing of all the pretty princes and princesses. You think it's gold, but YOUR FRIENDS DISAGREE. Incidentally, though you are already 8 sweeps old, you love to Flarp with your best/worst friend. The two of you have worked together for many sweeps, and you have a pretty good thing going.

Your trolltag is shiningSwordsaint and =|==> You a1way5 have your 5word at the ready, and you pract1ce the 15 techn1que5 of the h1ghb1ood 5ty1e.

AB Sprite:

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Awesome Drawing by PrussianMoose:

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Fast Facts:

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Name: Altaia Impeza
Age: 8 sweeps
Gender: Female
Blood Color: Blue (#003153)
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 145 lbs.
Interests: Fighting, nobility, fighting, writing bad fiction
Lusus: Griffin
Fetch Modus: Paint-by-Numbers. When an item is retrieved, the modus produces a small paint set which must be used to color in an image of the item on the card. Going outside of the lines requires the user to start over.
Strife Specibus: Bladekind, fistkind, bowkind
Trolltag: shiningSwordsaint
Quirk: Begins every line with "=|==>"; replaces I's and L's with "1", and S's with "5"

[Royal Flush]

>Be the messy haired teal chick



You are now XYRIDE CEICAN and you are 8.31 sweep old.

You live in the deep forest in your lab like Hive where you conduct hundreds among hundreds of experiments. You spend most of your time kidnapping tons of hopeless creatures to do biological work on. You have a feeling your Lusus "RATMUM" doesn't like your work. It seems every time you come back from catching new lab subjects your whole work space is jumbled and unorganized. Sure this wouldn't be much of a problem if she was of small size like other rodent-beast however, she is large and annoying. Despite the feuds you both have you still have deep feelings for each other.

Most of your days consist of catching new subjects and experimenting on them. When most biologist concentrate on the cellular level you center around the chromosomal level, rearranging the DNA and RNA at its source. When most of you splicing has failed miserably you have a good handful of subjects that have survived and even thrived! You call them SUPER BEAST because they can fly, breath underwater and even live underground. Only a few go mad time to time and that’s when you have to correct them. You fear one day when you’re gone one will escape and get to RATMUM but, hopefully your double padded casing has made that impossible.

When hunting you use your trusty NET GUN! You can set the nets to electrocute, explode or squeeze. While you have been dying to use the explode feature just to see what will happen you can’t waste away a hopeless creature cause you consider it INHUMANE.

You at one point in your life use to kidnap mutant blooded trolls and experimented on them and wanted to see what made them have their UNIQUE color. You at points tried to change their iron content and DNA which failed horrifyingly and caused you to have a mental breakdown. You have made a pact not NEVER, EVER, NO MATTER WHAT FOREVER, to experiment on a mutant blooded ever again.

You spend at points in your day on TROLLIAN to chat with some of your trollpals. Mostly you will talk to your Morial who you secretly feel red for. However, you feel if you tell him it will ruin the strong Morialship you both share. You also FLARP with your pals constantly you go by THE COMBINER which you believe to be the name of your ancestor.

Your troll tag is chromaticHelixator and you speak:2taggering and upm02t cheerful! and make constant references to DNA or RNA strings (TAT'2 n0t nice? y0u GAT t0 be kidding me?)

TL;DR

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Name: XYRIDE CEICAN
Age: 8 sweeps
Gender: Female
Height: 5'5
Weight: 130lbs
Interest: Biology, mutants, animals.
Lusus: Giant Rat
Fetch Modus: Helix.
God Tier: Smith of Doom
Trolltag: chromaticHelixator
Quriks: S=2 O=0 DNA puns such as TAT's not nice or you GAT to be kidding me!

Detailed picture:

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God Tier Outfit

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[lumeor928]

Your name is BRAKAL CAVERA and your age is 6.5 sweeps!
You are a Teal blooded troll living in one of the many forests of alternia, where you and your Lusus chose to build your hive. Your lusus "BATDAD" demands that you feed him the blood of lowblooded trolls which has proven to be a GREATER CHALLENGE than it is expected from one of your caste ,thanfully your MOIRAIL helps you fed him or you fear he would go for YOUR BLOOD insted. Even if the thread of being eaten is high for you , you two manage to have a healthy relation , given he gives you your beloved RIDES on his back, which has given you the strange habit of asking many people for such RIDES.

You spend large amount of times doing research on books about MYTHOLOGY and MYSTERY which have both always fascinated you. Your library is your favourite room of your Hive so you spend most of the time in there.You have a strange fascination over COOKING and BAKING though you are very ashamed of it so you only let a few people know about it.Lately you have taken an interest in FLARP as well as you have learn it's an easier way for you to "Toughen up" as your moirail would call it , yet you doubt you would last long so you don't play very often.

When Flarping you use your amazing SPEAR it lets you keep a safe distant from you and your prey! This Spear was found by one of your friend and given to you in exchange for one of your books. It was ok as you didn't knew you even had such Book.

Your trolltag is nocturnalDeviant and you ((( alWays coVeryour Word on a sonar and tend to strongly pronounce the V W B in your words

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]Name: Brakal Cavera
Age: 6.5 sweeps
Gender: Male
Height: 4'5
Weight: 88 Lbs
Interest: Mythology , cooking , reading , flarping.
Lusus: Insectoid Bat-like Lusus
Trolltag: nocturnalDeviant
Strifespecibus: Spearkind

[Overlard]

((Update for ravagingCorsair))

> Be a joke

|) --Youre the fuckin joke!--

> What?

|) --Shut it lowblood and gimme somethin to drink!--



Your name is Haydel Killig and you're a little rusty.

Literally, your legs are starting to get rusty from all the sea salt in them again. It's been a real issue for most of your NINE sweeps. Your CUSTODIAN has suggested multiple times to just wear something tight fitting over them but NO. You refuse to do anything other than wear pants and sometimes a proper swimsuit.

See now, you lost your legs in a battle long ago. About three sweeps, actually. FLARP is serious business, but nevertheless, you've yet to give up on your rather DANGEROUS lifestyle. You've long since forgone the FLARP part completely and just straight up started trying to rob things at sea. And also fight sea monsters. There are totally sea monsters out there and not stories you've just made up in your head. Your lusus, a dedicated and surprisingly loving ANGELFISH, has long since given up on making you any better, but still tries to take care of you anyway.

Like a stubborn beast, you even rebuilt your old SLOOP to use as a makeshift hive. However a ship requires a crew, which you amusingly lack thanks to your wonderful personality. The piece of junk stays harbored just off shore in a small cove, not too far above your undersea hive.

Your sea dwellery PURPLE (#820075) blood is at least somewhat impressive, despite your ship. It's certainly not the highest, no, but you're convinced you've got a guaranteed spot COMMANDING a spaceship at some point! And commanding spaceships is obviously just like commanding a regular ship. Yell at the little guys on board to do all the work until they die. You're a true tactical genius, with a completely well deserved ego. Your TOTALLY NOT OFF-KEY SINGING of folk songs is proof of this.

In your off-piratey hours, you also enjoy a spot of SHITTY POETRY writing in an effort to impress your lusus somewhat, but it never seems to go anywhere. The excess scraps of paper end up cluttering most of your respiteblock as a result. Once done throwing paper everywhere, you practice your hand at SEWING. Even you realize you have to keep the sails in shape somehow, and that seemed like the best way.

Generally you can be at least bearable when you're reasonably drunken, as it dulls a good deal of your usual spite to anyone lower on the hemospectrum. You can be a bit FLIRTY as a result, however, and you're no stranger to waking up in places where you've no idea how you got there. You're almost always quite excitable no matter the blood alcohol content and will frequently poke and prod people into trying to go deep sea diving for giggles.

Your strife specibus is allocated to bladeKind, with your trusty cutlass serving you well. You often try to get as drunk as possible before a fight, believing that it will "totally make you good to go."

Speaking of being drunk, your DRINKER'S FRIEND fetch modus is one of your best friends. Having to drink through bottles of straight up RUM to get what you want is really safe. Really.

Your trolltag is recklessMarauder and you |) --Sail much too fast to really give much of a fuck about bein proper. >|D--

TL;DR:

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Name: Haydel Killig
Age: 9 sweeps
Gender: Female
Lusus: Angelfish
Blood: Purple (#820075)
Strife Specibus: bladeKind
Fetch Modus: Drinker's Friend (Drink a mug of mead, size of which depends on item's projected value)
Trolltag: recklessMarauder
Quirk: Prefix sail and wind ( "|) --" ), suffix end of wind ( "--" ), no commas or apostrophes, frequent loss of 'g' in 'ing' words, use of ' >| ' in emoticons ( >|C, >|X )

[Nexev]

Okay just... how do you even start. You can say your name but you have to be a idiot to NOT KNOW YOUR BRILLIANCE.

But maybe it will help the readers from flipping out you know, don't want to cause any FANGASMS BEFORE YOUR DEBUT RIGHT?

You are the great SINIAM VINDAL, paradox space's greatest SABOTARTIST.

For those not in the straight up loop you are all up SNEAKY, easy as pie when your veins is SO BLESSED EVEN THE SUN WON'T HURT YOU. You then take this wicked sneak and use it to DRAW UNFLATTERING AND OCCAISONALLY PROFOUND ART ON OTHER'S HIVES. It's a sign of dominance see, the troll knows they could have been GLEESASSINATED during the SABOTARTISTRY with ease, but was kept alive because YOUR SKILLS ARE GREAT ENOUGH THAT FALLING PREY TO THEM DO NOT COUNT AS A CULL WORTHY ACTIVITY AS IT WOULD WITH MERE MORTALS.

It also helps that your blood gives you a TOTALLY LEET ADVANTAGE.

You rock, so much.

But don't think you are a one trick pony. You have interest and skills up the wazzo.

For example you follow all the trends because the trends are SINIAM. You wear CLOTHES THAT YOU PERSONALLY SABATARTED in order to let everyone know that you Siniam, are in fact, SINIAM.

If you have a trademark you gotta BE the trademark right.

Oh course it's right, it's Siniam.

You also delve into the most uprighteous sound ever played by your rocking HEXSTRINGER. The prestigious call it a guitar but that's cause the system is WACK.

One of your interests is tormenting the WACK because WACK THINGS ARE NEGACOOL. This includes the SYSTEM, things that do not RESPECT THE SINIAM, the SYSTEM, bad cheese, the system, and of course: THE SYSTEM.

The sad thing is the system is a vast network of things that are personally against the Siniam. You would realize you are using the phrase system wrong and are simply letting your conspiracy theories get ahead of you but the Siniam is too smart FOR HIS OWN BRAIN.

Yeah, take that.

Your music is all part of your wicked rebellion against things that aren't Siniam but you ain't all about the VIOLENCE AND SOUL SHAKING. Occasionally you simply just kick back and enjoy the beauty of the EXTREMELY DANGEROUS FLORA AND FAUNA, as stated prior you are nimble enough to avoid most danger so you are always able to simply admire the natural cycle.

You were taught your wicked ways of stealth and assault from the greatest hunter ever and your lusus, Jivvie Khan the Chest Abuser, some alien weirdos who do not exist would call him a white gorilla but you don't know that. He wasn't much of a talker but he knew his way around nature and nature knew not to mess with Jivvie when he doesn't want any trouble.

They should make a movie of that reallly, it would almost be as good as one about Siniam.

You have to occasionally put the KIL IN POPULAR CARTOON KILROY and when you must you are fortunate enough to wield the Polearmkind specibus. Like a true champion you do not use a spear end on the end of your weapon, just dip it in paint so your enemies know THE SHAME OF SURVIVAL.

Your trolltag is fabulousVandalism and you {Siniam was here} Make a impression {Siniam was here}

[Overlard]

> Be a failure

Hey! Watch wh# y#u're talking t# chump! Yeah?!

> Just. Be. You.

That's uh, what I th#ught. Mhmm?



Your name is Jasame Fraire and you're obviously one of the better highbloods.

You're quite the shining example of your high INDIGO (#40009b)caste. Culling the odd lowblood for looking at you sideways, being brash towards the filthier lowbloods, grudgingly following seadweller orders. Your few highblooded friends are very satisfied with how you act, seeing as it's quite the normal behavior for someone in such a position as yours!

Sometimes though, you actually feel the tiniest bit BAD about what you do. Ok, maybe a lot more than a bit, if you're going to be honest with yourself. It's an incredibly strange emotion, one that your lusus, ravendad, calls GUILT. He also tells you that it's completely silly to feel this way and you should focus on embracing more of your highblooded status. You take him at his word and tried as best you can to bury how you feel beneath layers of callousness and continue to enjoy what you do. Even if you are terrified your friends will find out and beat you to a pulp or abandon you. Probably not the best thing for a SEVEN SWEEP old troll to feel.

You try to stick to routine now, mostly. It keeps your more putrid mind off your soft heart. You start the night off by feeding the various animals you take care of in the yard behind your hive. At one point you were trying to train them to be attack animals but after a failed incident involving angry barkbeasts and fireworks, you just domesticate them and let them wander around. Next you spend a good few hours training in the small gym you had constructed when the hive was first made. Finally, you usually try to work in some sappy romance movies into your schedule so you can sit on the couch and cry like a little wriggler while your lusus shakes his head in shame. Apologies to ravendad, but you've got to vent your feelings somehow and sappy romance movies always make you tear up! But most importantly, you always make sure to get outside of the hive and carouse with your friends. All of this keeps you focused off of yourself and on other things.

When you can work up the nerve to go out culling, you use your strife specibus, batKind, to beat the stuffing out of your targets. It may help you worked some nails into the wood of the thing, sharp point outward. Some would call this a NAILBAT.

Your fetch modus is set to DELAY. It's a simple modus. Whatever you put in it must be left in for a certain amount of time before it can be removed. The larger the item, the longer it takes before it's ready to removed.


Your trolltag is conditionedAntagonizer and you Really are the r#ughest t#ughest guy y#u kn#w, really! Right?

TL;DR

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Name: Jasame Fraire
Age: 7 sweeps
Gender: Male
Blood: Indigo (#40009b)
Lusus: Raven
Strife Specibus: batKind
Fetch Modus: Delay (Items must remain in sylladex for a set period of time)
Quirk: O/o = #, asks for confirmation a lot
Trolltag: conditionedAntagonizer

[TurnTechGeneticist]

Be the yellow-blooded hacker.
what, thii2 dude?

No, be the OTHER yellow-blooded hacker troll!
((o))h he means this ((o))ne

Your name is KRANOA MANDRA, and you are a 6-sweep-old yellowblood.
You have the misfortune of living in a COMMUNAL HIVE STEM with your LUSUS, a large eagle, and SEVERAL OTHER YELLOWBLOODS with their LUSII.
You are an extremely talented HACKER, though you mainly put those skills to work DOWNLOADING ILLEGITIMATE MUSIC. Due to your RATHER ROWDY UPBRINGING, you have come to HATE TROLLKIND FOR ALL IT'S WORTH. Because of this, you are generally QUITE ANTISOCIAL. However this factor is also attributed to the fact that your no good nextdoor neighbor in the other building keeps his lusus on the roof, and spends a lot of his time yelling and destroying his hive stem.

Your trolltag is diverseHacker, and y((o))u speak rather blandly and b((o))redly.

Details:
Name: Kranoa Mandra
Tag: diverseHacker
Gender: Male
Symbol: Jupiter
Blood: Yellow, #a1a100, hue 40
Age: 8 Sweeps
Lusus: Giant Eagle
Strife: Needlekind
Hive: Communal Hive Stem
Modus: Pocket, places the cards in his coat pockets.
Title: Rogue of Time
Planet: Land of Beat and Tech

EDIT: Hive modded.

[Teslamagnetic Integration]

[[This is a reworking and complete re-haul of spectralUrsidae]]

=> Be the...whatever the hell you are.

Your name is TEDDIE SPECER, and you are a mere 9 SWEEPS OLD. You were taken in as a charge to a GIANT JAGUARBEAST LUSUS, and have had a very pleasant relationship with her, though THERE WERE BUMPS ALONG THE WAY. But you're not a troll about the DETAILS; you're about the bigger picture. Your hive is a NICE AND QUIET LITTLE ABODE that is near town, but FAR ENOUGH OUT FOR YOUR LUSUS TO BE COMFORTABLE. You have a psychic power of ASTRAL PROJECTION, in that you can temporarily DEPART YOUR SOUL FROM YOUR BODY for any length of time, and return. YOU CANNOT GO TOO FAR, though, otherwise your body starts to DIE from however too long you are from it. YOU ALSO CAN SEE GHOSTS THANKS TO THIS. Because of this, you tend to come off FAIRLY MORBID.

You tend to be a little SOCIALLY AWKWARD thanks to watching a lot of SLICE OF LIFE TV, and try to avoid the common social pitfalls others do. At least, you TRIED. Eventually you just realized that YOU CAN'T AVOID THEM, and realize it's better to AT LEAST TRY instead of sitting in fear of it. After all, TIME'S RUNNING OUT on that quadrant bit.

You fucking LOVE reading and music, because frankly a coward like you can't do anything else. You regularly have your wireless headphones in your ears all the time, and tend to randomly switch them on and up the volume when you get in a daydreaming mood; which comes and goes pretty inconveniently. If one decided to yank a headphone out and listen, all they would hear is RAIN. NOTHING BUT VARYING SEVERITY OF RAIN. You REALLY LOVE RAIN and it CALMS you. Other than that, you listen to VARYING MUSIC, but mostly POP. Why is anyone's guess.

You have a STRIFE SPECIBUS that is a x2CLAWKIND, but you never really use it. Your Fetch Modus is the TANGENT MEMORY, which you can't even remember how it works.

Your trolltag is spectralUrsidae and you t3nd to 33 way too 3nthusiastic ov3r the num33r thr33.

[bewilderedOracle]

> Be the reclusive high blood.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Your name is VITARI LONREN and you are 7 ½ solar sweeps old. You do not trust most of your compatriots, as is common among troll society, but you tend to avoid other trolls almost entirely. Because most of them would be only too happy to stab you in the back. Literally. You do have a few trolls whom you like to spend your time with and you will FIGHT TO THE LAST TROLL TO PROTECT THEM. Your lusus tells you they are your PACK and as such, it is your responsibility TO ENSURE THEIR SAFETY. It is a duty you take seriously.

Your interests include HUNTING, TRACKING, and practicing with your VARIOUS POLEARMS. Your lusus has taught you that you must always be aware of everything around you. To be careless is to lose your life. You dislike sleeping in sopor slime because you feel that it clouds your senses first thing in the evening, which makes you feel far too vulnerable.

You have very little use and less patience for the hemospectrum, for all that you're RATHER HIGHLY PLACED. The color of your blood is an accident of your hatching. Why should that have any sway over your value as a troll? All of your friends are lower on the spectrum than you are, but it doesn't bother you any. And you hope it doesn't bother them. You know that these views are not shared by many and are likely to get you culled, but you really couldn't care less. You'll be friends with whomever you please and damn the consequences.

Your trolltag is bewilderedOracle and you don't have any particular quirk, except that you try to be grammatically correct and enunciate at all times. Unless you're in a mood. Then there's no telling what you're going to do...

TL;DR:
Name:Vitari Lonren
Trolltag: bewilderedOracle
Hemostatus: #6600cc
(I'm working on getting a sprite or pic or something together for her, but, not being very artistic myself, it's slow going.)