Your name is CHRISA PTERON and you're 8 sweeps old. You live on a desert mesa with your rattlesnake lusus, and it tends to get kind of chilly. Inside your hive is a long stairway down to your garage, where you keep your motorcycles.

Ah...your motorcycles. So fast and sleek and beautiful. You love the feeling of knowing you maintain them all on your own, and you're extremely proud of the modifications you've made to them. Sure, you didn't invent anything new, but what you did, you did with your own two grease stained hands! You dream of being a mechanic for the imperial fleet when you come of age.

You like to think you don't really care about the caste system. The truth, however, is a little more complex then that. While you don't actively flaunt your position unless you're feeling particularly bitchy, you find it rather difficult to care much about people lower on the spectrum, unless they happen to be friends of yours. However, in a sort of vicious circle, that lack of caring makes it hard for you to befriend lowbloods in the first place, especially after certain past events. You ascribe to the belief that it's less sad when a lowblood dies because they've got less life remaining than a highblood, and you also believe that only highbloods have good leadership qualities.

Aside from maintaining your motorcycle and being a general bitch to your best friend, you have a number of hobbies. You've got an intense passion for all things superhero, and collect superhero movies and posters. Your love of superheroes extends beyond simple fangirlism, however, and you've joined a group of superhero and villain larpers as the crossbow wielding, trick shooting Cobalt Cross. It's really, really fun. Almost as fun are the rare times you go out to actually deliver vigilante justice to, well...anyone you think deserves it.

Speaking of rping, you also FLARP with your best friend, although lately it's been losing it's charm. Everybody else in the area is such wigglers about it, and it's starting to seem like a waste of time. You figure you’ll eventually move onto something else.

Your best friend is Altaia, and while sometimes it seems like you hate her, nothing could be further from the truth. Oh, she might be a thuggish brute most of the times, and an utter bitch, but she's also an incredibly loyal friend, and you and her have been best friends for 5 sweeps. She was the one who comforted you a sweep ago when your lying bastard of a lowblooded ex-matesprit robbed you blind and vanished, and you're the one who acts as a shoulder to cry on and a sounding board whenever she's feeling down.

You’ve got a secret passion for all things bright colored, and your respiteblock admittedly looks like a unicorn exploded in there. On the other hand, it insures that nobody else will go in there, as even your current matesprit winces at the garish colors and hurries out. While your everyday outfit is properly somber, you’ve got a rainbow striped cocktail dress you wear in your hive when you’re feeling down.
You use crossbowkind for serious fights and bowkind as a hobby. You’ve named your crossbow Oliver and your bow Barton, after two of your favorite arrow-slinging superheroes.

Your trolltag is azureArbalist and you type i^ a poi^te< ma^^er. (n = ^, b = >, d = <)