[CS] Alternia

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Annasiel
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[CS] Alternia

Post by Annasiel » Fri Sep 21, 2018 7:44 am

Name: Coboli Gorden

Moon: Derse

Age: 8 sweeps

Sex: Female

Trollian Tag: methodicalAdministrant [MA]

Occupation: Scrutiniver

Strife Specibus: Staplerkind

Fetch Modus: Filing Cabinet (Items must be picked up in alphabetical order A-Z, or else the entire sylladex inventory is ejected.)

Classpect: Maid of Space

---

This is an OFFICE.

You may think it is a broom closet, at first, what with all the brooms and the closety dimension, but upon closer observation you will find it does indeed have all the things good offices have: A desk, a computer, some cabinets, and a shiny PLAQUE on the door. The inhabitant of this office is very proud of her plaque, and polishes it every day to better showcase this is HER office and no one else's. Well, except for the custodial staff, who have nowhere else to store their mops and buckets. Cleaning buckets. I meant cleaning buckets. Who would let the other kind anywhere near a self-respecting office? I shudder at the thought.

Now, what is this office-worker's name?

You are COBOLI GORDEN, a fastidious and diligent member of the Alternian bureaucracy. You work as a SCRUTINIVER, which is an incredibly boring, monotonous, and meticulous occupation involving the reading and rereading of longwinded legal documents. It's essentially a paralegal, but without the incredibly cool name that makes you sound like some sort of badass lawyer-paratrooper. Not that you wanted to be a lawyer-paratrooper, as that career sounds like an incredibly professional way to get yourself killed. Many anal-retentive, detail-obsessed arsewipes end up as scrutinivers when they trod on too many toes with their incessant complaining, yourself unbeknowingly nonwithstanding; The bluer bloods don't want to put to waste good genetic material, but find the incessant meddling migraine-inducing. Your particular focus is on processing the poor sods ON CALL FOR CULLING. You like to think you save lives by making sure mistakes aren't made in such a crucial matter, but the truth is, your superiors usually just stick your reports and requests in a dusty old box with more cobweb than cardboard.

Whenever you're not fussing about details, you like to spend your time online CHATTING with her various "friends" on Trollium. Your handle is methodicalAdministrant, a reflection of your misplaced occupational pride, and your text is the same soft teal as the blood that courses through your veins. You have a habit of BEING BLOCKED within the first few minutes of conversations. There's no blatant reason for this rudeness, from your perspective, though you assume it might be because too many people can't take CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM.

MA: If you try to use more of your personnel resources, then you might bring some efficiency into your work.

UK: Buzzzzzz off, you zzzzzzTinging TwaT!

UK has blocked MA.

As evidenced above, your scrutiny towards the world around you extends even into the virtual world. You make very certain to SPEAK PROPERLY, not only abstaining from vulgar and vernacular words and using proper grammar, but also shying away from the TERRIBLE QUIRKS that most trolls seem to adore. This is how you avoid cluttered chaos in conversation!
Alone she drifts from ancient mists
Nary a candle, nary a wish
But in the wont of wandering paths
Through wooded knolls, and windworn crags
She seeks a face she thought as friend
But now -- she thinks as judgement's end

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Annasiel
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Re: [CS] Alternia

Post by Annasiel » Fri Sep 21, 2018 7:46 am


Name: Hecare Eritas

Age: 8 sweeps

Gender: Female

Blood color: Jade

Appearance: Tall and lanky, almost gaunt, with a narrow face. She has long, white-bleached hair, almost down to her hips, that she often keeps trussed in a series of braids. Her teeth are fairly sharp, with an average set of canines, but to enhance the effect she often wears a pair of prosthetic fangs. Recently, she’s taken a habit to wearing white makeup on her face and hands, which has the annoying habit of rubbing off on anything she touches. She wears a white, v-neck blouse with a fluffy trim, a pair of grayish slacks, and brown boots. She has a golden, bejewelled bracelet on her wrist, and a white lace choker around her throat. Her horns extend up, tilted somewhat out to the sides, with sharp, tooth-like hooks at the ends.

Symbol: symbols.com/gi.php?type=1&id=821&i=1

Lusus: A long, sinuous cobra-like beast named Snakedad. Hecare wanted to call it Bloodire after the famous rainbow drinker in “Sun Striders,” the best book series to ever grace the surface of Alternia. Snakedad, in its infinite traditionalist wisdom, vehemently refused.

Sylladex: Grimoire Modus. Items are stored on a page in a dark book, and can only be retrieved by ritualistic chanting of the page’s spell. Unfortunately, most of these spells contain the letter ‘v’, which are nearly impossible for her to properly pronounce with the prosthetic fangs.

Strife specibus: Fangkind. Trying her hardest to live up to her dream, Hecare fights her foes in a true vampiric fashion.

Handle: sunlitVaudevillian (#078243, 7/130/67)

Typing quirk: To emphasize a bite with every sentence, she “Viciously ViVisecting Vords Vith Vile VerVe.”

Personality: A true drama queen of fantastical proportions, Hecare takes great care to display every emotion that crosses her mind. She is fascinated by the macabre and dark, especially the allure of her bloodcaste’s rainbow drinker heritage. She herself is not a rainbow drinker, and doubtless ever will be, but this doesn’t stop her from trying. A girl has to have dreams. She is quite intelligent, and will flaunt it if need be, but prefers to brag about her more literary pursuits: She is an avid creator of “Sun Striders” fanfiction and deep, emotional poetry.

God tier: Sylph of Heart

Moon: Derse (For sufficient edge. Also, Hecare doesn’t bother with trite formalities such as making beds.)

Land: The Land of Trees and Whispers. A quiet planet filled with tall, dark oaks, spreading the sunlight overhead in a crossed pattern below. Thin mists dance between the trees, carrying with them words that none can ever hear and truths that none are meant to know.

Extra: She got the booty.

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Character Sprite

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Character

==> An ominous beast lurks in her fetid crypt.

Who is this fearsome creature?

==> Enter name.

Your name is HECARE ERITAS, and you are a godforsaken VAMPIRE. At least, you wish you were one of the prestigious rainbow drinkers, those brilliant beings of the day. Much to your constant spite, despite your JADE blood coloring, you are utterly and completely NORMAL. To try and compensate, you wear a pair of PROSTHETIC FANGS which double as your strife specibus in combat. You have a fondness for a WHITE AESTHETIC, going as far as to powder your skin and bleach your hair, though your makeup is always rubbing off on everything and your hair grows too fast for the coloration to remain.

For all SEVEN SWEEPS of your life, you've found yourself near obsessed with the GRIM and MACABRE. Your gloomy home is strewn with SYMBOLS OF DEATH and VAMPIRE FANFICTION. The latter is almost entirely based on a series of books you hold in high esteem: "Sun Striders," stories about the dashing, daring rainbow drinker FANGFALL BLOODIRE. In fact, you are so enamored by this character that you tried to name your SNAKE LUSUS after her. However, in his infinite traditionalistic wisdom, you kept calling him his preferred name of SNAKEDAD. It probably helped that he threatened to bite you until you either passed out from blood loss or complied.

When you're not busy scribbling raunchy stories and practicing hissing in the mirror, you enjoy reciting EMOTIONAL POETRY to your friends on Trollian. Their annoyance is probably because they're jealous of your DEEP COMPLEXITY, and not because they grow tired of your beautifully melancholic works. Your trolltag is sunlitVaudevillian, and you emphasize a bite in your typing by “Viciously ViVisects Vords Vith Vile VerVe.” To store items, you use the strange and mysterious GRIMOIRE MODUS, which captchalogues items as pages retrievable by reading INCANTATIONS. Unfortunately for you, your prosthetic fangs give you a definite SPEECH IMPEDIMENT, making it difficult for you to access anything without multiple tries.



Image

Maybe in a fair fight, they would have stood a chance. But the two teals, hovering above the body of a slaughtered noble, did not know she was watching. One, bearing the uniform of a legislacerator, was kneeling beside the ravaged troll, while the other was taking notes in a thick book. Quickly, silently, she descended from her perch above the narrow alleyway, whipping her hand across the back of the recorder’s neck. She crumpled, her journal falling to ground beside her. The legislacerator turned, his eyes widening, but the drinker was already on top of him. Few but bluebloods could match her speed. Fangfall’s finger’s twitched, and the lawkeeper toppled, an aquamarine stain already flowering on his chest. Before he could hit the ground, she leapt forward, catching him by the throat of his outfit.

“Do you know why I am here?” she whispered, pulling his face into her own. The legislacerator flinched, his eyes pressed tight in fear.

“I don’t… are you a rebel? Please, I don’t want anything to do with that mess, I’m just doing my job, I’ll tell you anything you need to know just please don’t kill me I have a matesprit and he…” the victim stuttered. Fangfall silenced him with a hiss, and he cowered once more.

“I am not a part of the rebellion. I am not looking for information, reform, or petty squabbles. I am here because you,” to emphasize the word, she shook the whimpering troll, “are with her. You are just as guilty as the rest of them. Say it!” The last part came out like a barking command, fangs flashing in the dim light.

“I… I’m guilty! Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m guilty, I’m guilty, just please don’t kill me!” The tealblood was practically sobbing now, his body limp and resigned in Fangfall’s grasp. “I’ll do… I’ll do anything you want… please…”

“You killed him. You killed him, just like all the others. You may not have held the blade, but your actions, your allegiances, make you just as much at fault. You killed him and you don’t even care, do you?” She leaned in closer, her nose touching with her captive’s. “You’re just another soulless monster. Just like all the others.”

“I care I care I’m a monster, just like you said I killed him please…” the legislacerator spouted in a terrified ramble.

“Repent! You’ve confessed, now ask me! Beg me to forgive you!” Her voice was rising, almost a shout, her body tensed and shaking with anger.

“Forgive me! I killed him I’m sorry please forgive me!” As soon as he said these words, the drinker relaxed, her snarl turning into a smile. She loosened her grip for a moment, and the lawkeeper exhaled in relief. But the moment of peace was short lived as the nails once more tightened, spinning him around into a chokehold. Fangfall’s lips brushed against his ear, whispering the last words he would ever hear.

“You are absolved.”

The pain was blinding, but it only lasted for a few short seconds. Then it numbed, then the curtains fell, then darkness became his world. Fangfall let his body slide down onto the pavement, wiping his blood from her lips. She turned, ready to leave, when a breathless voice coughed behind her. The scrutiniver was still alive, somehow, despite her shattered spine.

“You are just as guilty,” she told her. The dying recorder could only watch, her mouth opening and closing breathlessly. Fangfall approached her, kneeling down beside her sprawling form. “Confess.” The scrutiniver made a noise halfway between a croak and a groan, but no words came out. The drinker placed her hand on the injured troll’s chest. Even if she wanted to plead, wanted to beg, it was obvious she couldn’t. There was no relief in death without confession. Fangfall leaned in, her mouth open, and ended the administrant’s suffering.

“You are absolved,” she said, though the words now felt like a lie. They hung over her shoulders like an invisible shroud, turning her righteous mood darker. Trying to ignore it, Fangfall rose, and disappeared into the night.
Alone she drifts from ancient mists
Nary a candle, nary a wish
But in the wont of wandering paths
Through wooded knolls, and windworn crags
She seeks a face she thought as friend
But now -- she thinks as judgement's end

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Stitches
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Re: [CS] Alternia

Post by Stitches » Fri Sep 21, 2018 3:21 pm


==>BE THE FUCKING OPTIMISTIC NUT JOB

You are POPPII DWELER, and you are the lowest color on the hemospectrum, a BURGUNDY BLOOD, MORE SPECIFICALLY, AN AUBURN. You are the most fucking OPTIMISTIC and HAPPY troll to ever grace Alternia. So happy and optimistic, in fact, that you just RADIATE FUCKING SUNSHINE THAT NO ONE CAN ESCAPE. BITCH, PLEASE, YOU WILL MAKE THEM SMILE. This in no way means that you are any less of a VICIOUS, MURDERING PSYCHO. It just means you tend to be bubbly as you smash people's heads in.

You have TWO RULING HOBBIES, the first of which is TROLLIAN LITERATURE. You just love a good book! It's one of the only things that can make you CALM FOR FIVE SECONDS. You also love anything that has to do with COMPUTERS. You are proficient in PROGRAMMING, and are a kick ass GAMER. You rock those fucking troll games hardcore. There is no game you cannot CONQUER. And your codes? UNHACKABLE and UNTOUCHABLE. (At least, so far.)

You have a knack for FASHION, as DISGUSTING as that is, and your favorite outfit is that of a stripped rust and black dress, a high collared vest bearing your INSIGNIA of an ASYMMETRICAL FLOWER, and a pair of tall black boots, which is obviously a blatant DISREGARD FOR THE RULES, BUT YOU COULDN'T CARE LESS. In all honesty, you're pretty surprised you haven't been culled yet. It could be because you live in a highly SECLUDED AND RURAL HIVE, out in the literal middle of nowhere. You might as well be A FUCKING HERMIT.

You were originally the ward of a LARGE BURGUNDY MEOWBEAST. However, it disappeared around the middle of your fifth sweep.

Today is the day that you and some other trolls are going to play SGRUB. Which is a game that you TOTALLY ILLEGALLY ACQUIRED from a troll somewhere in the city that you occasionally snatch epic games from. Not like the supposed genius ever notices. He's probably too busy lisping about how awesome he is to even notice that YOU HAVE BEEN "BORROWING" THINGS FROM HIS GRUBWORK FOR SWEEPS. Ah well. His lost, you guess. In any case, you're just super fucking stoked to start this game. You just know that the others will love it.

Name: Poppii Dweler

Age: 8 sweeps

Gender: Feminine

Blood: Burgundy

Symbol: An asymmetrical flower with six petals.

Appearance: Of short height with an extra foot and half in horn height, this troll comes off as far too small to be such a huge PROBLEM. Her hair is cut in two distinct layers, one that brushes her shoulders and curls up, and the second that reaches her waist. Her bangs frame her face near her eyes and her cheekbones. Her eyes are still the same grey as the usual adolescent's colour, and her asymmetrical horns curl up and out, with one curling slightly inward, almost straight up.

Lusus: (deceased) A giant red meowbeast with six legs and foot long fangs.

Moirial: Alvaro Callom

Abilities: As a low blood, she should have powers, given her very short life span and her lacking physical strength. Whether by some cruel cosmic joke or some other force, Poppii can barely use her powers. She struggles to even speak to beasts who roam her home.

Hive: A low to the ground, labyrinthine structure built of the indigenous stone. The rooms have a wide, open feel, due to the lack of completed walls. Wild beasts tend to roam freely in and out if her home. Each wall that does exist is painted a different colour, and the door frames extend from ceiling to floor.

Handle: auspiciousPetals

Quirk: YOU LIKE TO YELL ABOUT EVERYTHING BECAUSE YOU ARE S-S-SUPER EXCITED ABOUT EVERY FUCKING TH-THING!!

Sylladex: The colour wheel. Everything gets sorted by colour into a wheel. They are then stacked in small boxes on top of one another. However, you never have any idea what's in the box you remove, since they are all the same size and colour.

Strife Specibus: The Colourblade, a combination of a sword and a paintbrush that slices through the air with bright streaks of colour.

God Tier: Knight of Rage.

Moon: Derse

Land: Land of Music and Sunshine

==> BE THE LEADER THEY NEED.

Your name is ALVARO CALLOM, and you are so fucking fed up with this bullshit. If your RODENTBEAST LUSSUS goes into your respite block one more time when you are out, you might actually Strife with her.

You are a 8 SWEEP OLD CINNAMON BLOOD, and you are so STOIC that it legitimately freaks out others. Something about your heavy, browning grey gaze just makes everyone uncomfortable when you want it to. Usually, you're rather RELAXED DESPITE YOUR SERIOUS ATTITUDE. You have a strangely open air about you, and many TROLLS FEEL AS THOUGH THEY CAN TALK TO YOU. It makes you a very natural COORDINATOR AND LEADER. You follow your INTUITION, even when others question you.

You live near the outer edge of a hive cluster, in a rather straight, tall hive with complexly shaped floors and walls. Your LUSSUS is a GOLDEN BROWN KILLER RODENTBEAST, and she in no way respects your privacy. She has a tendency to sniff through your belongings, so you get a lot of STRIFE PRACTICE.

You have a variety of interests, that include COLLECTING DISCARDED HORNS FROM DECEASED TROLLS, SOLVING COMPLEX PUZZLES, AND DEVELOPING ELABORATE BATTLE STRATEGIES. Your horn collection includes a wide range of sizes and shapes, and even includes some very rare fully grown troll horns from the years of the rebellion.

Name: Alvaro Callom

Age: 9 Sweeps

Gender: Masculine

Blood Color: Bronze

Appearance: Tall in height, nearly six feet and four inches, with slender, backward bent horns adding another four inches to his height. He tends to stand incredibly straight and stiff, making him look even more tall. His hair is straight and choppy in length, the rough strands blocking out segments of face. His eyes have begun to colour in their iris, and have a strange grey brown colour. He has sharper nails than the usual.

Symbol: A glyph that resembles a music note.

Lussus: Killer Rabbit. (Rodentkind)

Moirial: Poppii Dweler

Abilities: As a low blood troll, he is gifted with psychic abilities. His abilities reside in the psionic family, the same level that most mustard blooded trolls do.

Sylladex: A very direct and simple to use modus called Thing-In-A-Bottle. It captchalouges his items into labeled bottles and shrinks them to fit in a canvas satchel. The satchel contains thirty-two slots and bottles, that allows for thirty-two items. To use on of these items, he simply needs to uncork the bottle and retrieve the item with a set of tweezers. It will then maximize to it's real size.

Strife Specibus: Chakramkind. His spinning circular blades of death are painted a wicked bronze.

Handle: enviousCalamity

Typing quirk: //He has a tendency to speak with supreme severity.//

God Tier: Prince of Time

Moon: Prospit

Land: Land of Clocks and Seas.

You've been bitten by a true believer
You've been bitten by
someone who's hungrier than you
You've been bitten by
someone's false beliefs

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Annasiel
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Re: [CS] Alternia

Post by Annasiel » Thu Oct 11, 2018 6:21 am

Name: Feyrah Kismet

Moon: Prospit

Age: 7 Sweeps

Sex: Female

Blood Color: Fuchsia

Trollian Tag: sunkenCurrent [SC]

Strife Specibus: 2x3dentkind

Fetch Modus:

Classpect: Witch of Doom

---
Alone she drifts from ancient mists
Nary a candle, nary a wish
But in the wont of wandering paths
Through wooded knolls, and windworn crags
She seeks a face she thought as friend
But now -- she thinks as judgement's end

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