CellophaneIpseity

>Enter Name.
Your name is OPOZIA AVHALT, and life is just difficult.

Really, it just is. You're a lowblood lacking any unique traits (or so you believe), destined to live an unremarkable life as a foot soldier, a future that will be coming around the corner in only a small number of sweeps (or a swift culling, of course) and you seem to always go unnoticed by those around you. You've gotten used to it, though. Life is hard, and while sure, it's upsetting at times, you just have to deal with it, as there's no real way to change it.

It's hard to be happy while you're alone, though you're still trying to make the best of the few sweeps you have left on... whatever planet you live on. It's simply a waste of time to be upset for too long, as eventually, you'll have an even bigger reason to be, so if you can't be happy now, while you might as well get culled on the spot! And that's a non-option, of course. However, the potent mix of being quite self-critical, extroverted yet shy, and essentially pessimistic make it difficult to be in a better mood than "alright" most of the time, as one simply feeds the others. The best thing is to just deal with it with a straight face, and perhaps one day, if you work hard enough, you'll find a good reason to be happy with yourself. What would that take? Well, getting noticed and making friends would be a start. Being worth something to someone else sure would be great. Maybe even some sort of romantic relationship, that way, you'll actually be able to make it to the fleet rather than being culled.

In a rare moment of confidence, you may find yourself attempting to reach out to someone in the effort of making some sort of meaningful social connection, but more than often, you find that they don't respond with the same enthusiasm. Are you coming on too strong? Perhaps you're just weird? Or (more than likely, you think), you're just far too average and unnoticeable. As such, your happier state, triggered when speaking to others, is essentially described as a muted, almost coy, excitement. It usually doesn't last long, though, as stated. And it's not like they can hide the fact that they don't enjoy your company from you: See, you have the psychic ability to detect when someone is lying, much like a polygraph (and you can be duped in the same way). You try to keep that a secret, though: it would really stink if the highbloods tried to use you as a simple tool to meet their ends (even though they already treat you like one, at best). There's machines for that, anyways.

However, when a troll does give you the sincere time of day, you find yourself growing extremely attached to that person, sometimes to the point where you develop massive, clingy, potentially unhealthy flush crushes on them. No one must EVER know! Even if they don't give you the time, the mere thought of being accepted by one of your neighbors is enough to trigger long sessions of daydreaming of a better social situation for yourself: but nope, back to reality in due time, you're just an awkward, average peasant!

But anyways, how about we change the subject to discuss your interests, as like any perfectly average troll, you have an array of perfectly average interests. In your spare time, you enjoy painting landscapes across the valley, and can often be found sitting alone in silence staring at the various greenery (or brownery, if you would, for the rocky parts of the valley). Often times when on these stints out of doors (which you really prefer to do, given the small quarters your hive offers), you collect dried plants and flowers to add some decoration to your otherwise rather barren hive. You're fond of carving images in and out of wood as well, sometimes painting them when you're done. Finally, you keep a small garden outside your hive (well, ok: it's actually bigger than your hive itself, but that's not saying much) in which you grow a number of various edible fruits and vegetables. In short, you like to do things outdoors. Lately, you've attempted to learn how to weave, but it's hard work, you know!

Like all trolls as well, you have done some training in combat, as you'll just die if you're one of those idiot pacifists, you know? As such, your strifedeck is allocated with the axeKind, in which you keep stored your trusty hatchet: good for chopping wood for carving and fires and/or killing things. On a sort of related note as to the things you do, you, for whatever reason, have always been resistant to the sun, unlike other trolls. You're not exactly sure why, perhaps it was some psychic-like gene you were granted like your lie detecting, but you don't mind at all.

The hemospectrum? Your own compatriots rarely even notice you, as if the highbloods do often. As such, you just make it policy to avoid dealing with the majority if at all possible. It's not that you hate them, you just don't feel like dealing with the class structure: yeah, ok, you're a peasant, you know that. Granted, if you were at the top, you would grudgingly admit that you'd probably be the same way. Equality would be well and good and all, but it's a pretty fanciful dream.

And finally, of course, you have a trollian account! Your tag is cellophaneIpseity and you speak [With… your words in brackets, they're really not that special, planning out your sentence before you type it.]

>Examine Self.
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>Examine Hive.
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>Examine Respiteblock.
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>Allocate Strife Specibus.
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>Examine Fetch Modus.
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>Do Something Awesome!
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>Psychic?
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>Physical?
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>Other?
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Trivia
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>Examine Trollslum.
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>Examine Traits.
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>Examine Tropes.
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