Why am I doing this, why did I spend so much time on this, bluuuuuuh. Also I can't be the only one doing this you guys, seriously.


Your name is Ione Pleione, and fuck do you LOVE BOOKS. In fact, your ENTIRE FAMILY loves books, and it is your dearest wish to one day become HEAD LIBRARIAN of the largest library in the world, the LIBRARY OF CONGRESS in AMERICA. When you are not BUSY SALIVATING OVER THE WRITTEN WORD, you like to go SWIMMING and SAILING. In fact, if there was a way to do all three at the same time, you'd probably never leave the water. You type with "Exact punctuation and gammar; however, one tends to be exceedingly dry and boring when not talking about the technical marvel that is the written word!" Your chumHandle is textbookOdyssey, your land is the Land of Wasteland and Fog, and you are the Abbess of Law. Your color is #BD12C2, aka Electric Purple.

Your name is JUSTIUM AUCTOR, and you are a SEA DWELLER of the noblest blood…sort of. You would be HEIR APPARENT for Alternian rulership were it not for the odd BRIGHTNESS of your pink blood. Due to this HORRIBLE MUTATION you spend most of your time hiding in your UNDERSEA HIVE. Despite these setbacks, you're sure that you will one day RULE ALL OF ALTERNIA.

Your SOLITUDE has given you plenty of time to cultivate a variety of INTERESTS. You are most passionate about CONSPIRACY THEORIES, specifically those that deal with USURPING THE THRONE. Your trollian friends say that you're PARANOID to believe those things, but WHAT DO THAY KNOW? You also have a number of USELESS TALENTS, such as JUGGLING, CUP STACKING, and THE ABILITY TO ROLL YOUR EYES INTO YOUR HEAD. Basically, you have WAY TOO MUCH FREE TIME.

Your trolltag is arcaneDictator and you type in @ $3<r3+ <0d3 +#@+ m@k3$ y0u #@rd +0 und3r$+@nd. Your land is the Land of Cages and Alloy and your title is the Pirate of Umbrage.

Your name is AMAYAN SKARDA, and your stage name is the POET OF BLOOD. You are a professional magician -- or, at least, you're really close to becoming one. Once you stop accidently MURDERING YOUR VOLUNTEERS and PRATFALLING through your own trapdoors, you'll be the most professional magician of them all.

You have a deep interest in REAL MAGIC, the type practiced by SECRET WIZARDS and FAKE MAGES. You deny it -- someone with the HIGHEST HEMO available to the LAND-DWELLERS shouldn't be interested in such dumbass bullshit -- but it is kind of obvious to everyone. Maybe it's the wizard hat that gives it away.

Your trolltag is arcaneTrickster, you type in a very DRAMATIC! kind of WAY~!, and you oversee the LAND of SPHERES and MIST.

Your name is JACK RUSSELL, and you were WARNED.

Growing up, you had every available chance to improve your VISUAL/SPACIAL LEARNING CAPACITY. MAZES AND PUZZLES never cease to DISORIENT AND CONFUSE YOU, and you've tried to avoid them whenever possible. Other than a few casual multiplayer matches you played with your CLOSE FRIEND AND NEIGHBOR, you've derided video games as a waste of time. Your DEAR SWEET MOTHER once signed you up for PAINTING LESSONS, but while you were clearly talented you grew UNINTERESTED and stopped practicing. You had always focused on keeping up with your WIDE VARIETY OF FAVORITE BANDS, planning to become THE WORLD'S MOST AWESOME ROCK STAR.

Instead, that TOTAL JACKASS FROM ACROSS THE STREET convinced you to be his STUPID NEW VIDEO GAME'S SERVER PLAYER, and you have become the HUNTER OF SPACE, whatever the hell that means. You've mostly spent the last few days HUNTING FOR A SICK BAG, however, wandering through the landscape on this GODFORSAKEN M.C. ESCHER PLANET looking for these GODFORSAKEN CREATURES on this GODFORSAKEN QUEST and generally wishing SLINGSHOTKIND was fatal when self-inflicted. Still, you didn't HEED THE WARNINGS, and are now trapped in A HELL OF YOUR OWN MAKING.

What you're trying to say is, THEY WARNED YOU ABOUT THE LAND OF STAIRS AND FROGS BRO. THEY TOLD YOU DOG.

Your name is BELLA SWAN and you have a bad habit of attracting the UNDEAD or PART-ANIMAL HUMANS. You were almost but not quite FORCED to live in FORKS, WASHINGTON where it is very cold and lonely and wet. You have a passion of ANGSTY TEEN EMOTIONS and KEEPING YOURSELF IN SOLITUDE FOR LONG PERIODS OF TIME. While you were living in FORKS, the UNDEAD were seemingly attracted to you. They tried to use their UNDEAD POWERS on you, but it never worked. There was also a wolf-guy, but you don't care about him. Your chumhandle is benignScavenger, you not reside in a MORE DEPRESSING place called Land of Loam and Twilight, and your title is Rogue of Love. You have the uncanny ability...to...talk...with...long...pauses...

>>3223
Hahahaha. That's too perfect!

Your name is REJAIK SOLLUM.

You have a variety of INTERESTS, not inconsiderable is the sheer amount of SEAFARING LORE you happen to have collected. You have so many books on the subject your CACTUS HIVE can barely contain them, which makes no sense as you live in the DESERT, very far from the nearest BODY OF WATER. In fact, after reading so much about SEAFARING, you have begun to have a very slight paranoia of the FICKLE MISTRESS that is the OCEAN.

Due to your hive being a LARGE NEEDLE DEPOSIT, you have found a way to counteract your nerves at being suddenly swamped by SALTY BILGEWATER through SELF-MUTILATION. You have found a talent for PIERCINGS, and have several of them to celebrate your victory against WANDERING BEASTS, whose HIDES you wear to celebrate. Truthfully though, you let your LUSUS handle most of them.

Your LUSUS is very strong, and he loves you very dearly, even if he does ATTEMPT TO KILL YOU on a more-often-than-not basis. You figure it is just part of CUSTODIAN-TO-TROLL AFFECTION.

Your trolltag is pocketAcupuncture, and when you are feeling funny you say you are _-ke a f-sh out of _-qu-d $:]

You are the Pirate of Sorrow, in the Land of Glass and Wasteland.

(I could do these all day.)

Your chumhandle is solarKinsmen (chartreuse text), and you tend to type ccaassuuaallyy and speak with a bit of a ddrraawwll. You've started with this because you have no name! But man do you love YOUR ANCESTORS. Their HISTORY, their TRADITIONS, their CULTURE, is all so TERRIBLY INTERESTING to you that you study it ALL THE TIME. You even play a recreated WOODWIND INSTRUMENT, although you aren't very good yet because you aren't even sure how to play it right. BUT YOU ARE DETERMINED, and surely that will GET YOU THROUGH ANYTHING, right?

After entering the game, you spend your time in the LAND OF RHYTHM AND WOOD, which is a very ambiently musical forest that appeals wonderfully to your TASTE FOR HISTORY, as the SAGE OF MADNESS, which worries you a little, but the idea of being a wiseman IS PRETTY COOL WITH YOU.

You also enjoy RAIN quite a bit, but you don't see it very much.

Your chumHandle is indieCrusader and using pesterChum is way too mainstream for you. It was a little out of the way, but you found this totally underground messenger called TROLLIAN. You don't know who made it, its so indie.

You have a great deal of interests YOU PROBABLY HAVE NEVER HEARD OF. Your favorite movies are foreign films, which is rather inconvenient for you because you don't actually speak any other languages besides English.

Too be honest your older sister is way better at keeping track of what bands are cool now and what were cool three minutes ago. The whole thing is kind of confusing to you, but you don't ever let on or you will be branded as LAME.

After entering the Medium, you were given the title the Nomad of Time, and was given the land of Cliffs and Clouds.

Your name is ESTHON PRAVDA

Your chief INTEREST is in MUSICAL COMPOSITION AND PERFORMANCE and upon coming of age you dream of becoming a great ALTRUBIDOUR. Unfortunately, you have a reputation for being NOTORIOUSLY BAD at the latter. Actually you have a reputation for being pretty bad at both, but that is just because others don't get your MUSICAL SENSIBILITIES. They are too SUBTLE and COMPLEX for others to understand. It's hard being a musician. It's hard and no one understands.

Your chumhandle is apocalypseGuitarist and you type in the ANcient LOST poEtic MEter.

Upon entering the Medium you were taken to the Land of Cubes and Lakes (LoCal) to fulfill your DESTINY as Hero of Truth.

Your name is TERRAC RAULIN, and you are kind of a jerk!

You have a variety of INTERESTS, most notably ones about FIGHTING and THRILLING SINGLE COMBAT! You fancy yourself SO GOOD at FIGHTING, that no one will ever put you in your place, because you have read all the books and you know all the styles. ALL OF THEM. Through years of training on your MOUNTAIN HIVE, which remains suspended over a volcano on a very WORRYINGLY FLIMSY ARRAY OF CHAINS, you have transformed your body into the DEADLIEST OF WEAPONS. You can beat ANYONE, except.... THAT GUY.

Gog, you HATE THAT GUY. If there is one person who is a bigger JERK than YOU, it would be HIM. He is constantly coming over to your HIVE to pick fights with your LUSUS and make fun of your LOW BLOODED STATUS. Unfortunately, your LUSUS is surprisingly small and weak in comparison to you. You suppose that he was just lucky to be BLESSED WITH YOU, the greatest fighter OF ALL TIME.

When you entered the Medium, naturally THAT GUY followed you, and you are currently in the midst of one of your showdowns in the LAND OF BOOKS AND TRANSIT.

You are the Keeper of Ego.

Your trolltag is lastingJavelin and you EMPH@SIZE YOUR @CCENTED @'S WITH @S MUCH FORCE @S YOU H@VE GOT

Your name is TYRAOW KOBALT

You have a variety of INTERESTS, most notably GHOST STORIES. you love chasing down UNRELEVENANTS and other SUPPOSEDLY FICTIONAL BEINGS. But one day, you will WRITE YOUR OWN TRUE STORIES and prove EVERYONE WRONG. You tend to not spend a lot of time in your TREE HIVE as a result, and sometimes your LUSUS worries about you. But you always come back with fresh STORIES to tell him, even if he can't understand A WORD YOU'RE SAYING.

Sometimes you go to visit your BEST FRIEND and PLAY WITH HIS LUSUS. You know you can get a bit ROUGH sometimes, but usually your BEST FRIEND knows exactly when to stop you so you don't hurt him. Sometimes he and you PLAY GAMES TOGETHER, and you find his SINGLE-MINDED MOTIVATION to be refreshing in your little tussles.

You left the LAND OF ALLOY AND BRICK in pursuit of your BEST FRIEND, who seems to want to play. You wonder whose idea was it to put a LIBRARY on a TRAIN, though...

You are the Rebel of Umbrage.

Your trolltag is ectoCatnip and you S-Sometimes S-Stutter A L-Little B-But A-A-All's W-Well T-That E-E-Ends W-Well, R-Right? c:

Your name is Jaxine Pasron and your trollhandle is silentRocket. Like many young trolls, you are fascinated by the ADVENTURES of the adults of your kind - but you particularly focus on their VENTURES THROUGH SPACE. You think space is very grand indeed, and you are often absorbed by thoughts of the STARRY COSMOS. This leads to others seeing you as KIND OF STRANGE, as you don't tend to talk very much.

You have a variety of interests, although most of them revolve around SPACE. You have a habit of divining the ASTROLOGICAL PREDILICTIONS of your friends, using this to judge their FATE. You build small DIORAMAS of the Alternian system, although this leads to getting GLUE all over your room. You enjoy FINE REALISTIC SPACE MOVIES, such as one that is generally known in shorthand as "In which several troll miners land upon a potentially world-destroying rock". You love STRANGE MUSIC that you claim is cosmic. And, sometimes, you FLARP as your alien princess character, but you are careful to hide this fact from people you want respect from.

You do not have a LUSUS, but instead consider yourself to be raised by the STARS THEMSELVES. When you have to fight, you tend to use your trusty TELESCOPE.

You are the PRIESTESS OF COSMOS, and your land is the Land of Wasteland and Alloy, which is a vast, barren plane studded with the wrecks of shuttles and probes. Your text is white on black, like the stars themselves, and yooooooooou ooooooooooverextend a certain vooooooowel, to represent the vast emptiness of space.



...Is it wrong to actually RP this girl?