Your name is BASILI METCAL, and you are just coming up on your (X)th wriggling day.

You enjoy SINGING, but you think you are INCREDIBLY BAD at it, so that's a bit of a bummer. You enjoy composing entires songs and recording them yourself. Though you are not proficient in many musical instruments, your skill in the drums and keyboard is enough to synthesize any other instrument you may need. Your lusus thinks you are kind of a pansy for this, and you two have frequent GRIEFS with one another on the subject.

Your strife specibus, by the way, is set to CROSS-kind. Yes, that's CROSS-, not merely CROSS. After a blunder of a first GRIEF, in which you stupidly equipped a set of drumming CROSS STICKS to your Strife Specibus, which defaulted to CROSSkind (as opposed to STICKkind, which is what you had expected), you developed an interest in STRIFE CODING. Over time, you have become well versed in the ways of SPECIBUS TWEAKING, and indeed are an expert on the field. Your specibus, therefore, can accept weapons of any type that include the CROSS prefix, whether it be CROSSBOWs, CROSSPISTOLS, or CROSS-SABERS. You also suspect it can accept things that HAVE A CROSS IN THEIR COMPOSITION BUT ARE NOT NECESSARILY CALLED SUCH, but you have been too busy to find out.

Beside messing with STRIFE SPECIBUSES, you enjoy OTHER SORTS OF INVENTING, though you are possibly even worse at those. Your hive is filled with INVENTIONS OF DUBIOUS EFFICACY, most of which are DOWNRIGHT DANGEROUS. That doesn't really bother you much, though - you think they're fun to make. Although you find fashion silly at best, you do wear a blazer (and occasionally a lab coat) for the sake of extra pockets.

Beside your own specibus, you dabble in creating new and odd specibuses (your greatest achievement being the (x^y)x(x^(x^y))dentkind, which you have never actually given to anyone for fear of causing unstoppable, exponential growth). You don't have many subjects to test out your PROTOTYPE STRIFE SPECIBI, so you often FLARP and 'gift' your untested specibus to unfortunate wigglers. These specibus tend to MALUNCTION IN THE MOST INOPORTUNE WAYS, but that's what alpha testing is for. Usually, though, by the time you get the specibus back, you've moved on to other projects. This is probably why you still only use CROSS-kind. When you FLARP, you take on the personality of AGENTIMIDATOR CAFFIN, who is just a rip-off of LEGISLACERATOR TROLL FRANCIS YORK MORGAN, a character from your favorite videogame. Your strife specibus has good synergy with that of the dual-natured legislacerator.

Your position on the BLOOD HEIRARCHY is a comfortable DARK GREEN, almost to the point of being JADE. You dislike YELLOWBLOODS, but that's mostly because it's annoying to have to HIGHLIGHT their TEXT, and some SEADWELLERS, if only because of a LOUSY EXPERIENCE you had with one in the past.

You need PERSCRIPTIVE EYEWEAR, but the only pair you own tends to make you look like a HIPSTER DOUCHEBAG, so you deal without them. You feel you are INCREDIBLY LUCKY to have an average set of horns, unlike some of the MUTANT BASTARDS you see every so often. It would probably be kinder to be CULLED than to live with HORNS DOWN TO THE ANKLES. Shit, did you say 'kinder'? You meant -- ah, whatever. Truth is, you are something of a BLEEDING BLADDER BASED AQUATIC VASCULAR SYSTEM when it comes to CULLING. You feel as though the MUTANTS and CRIPPLED should be helped in some fashion, not just KILLED LIKE IT'S GOING OUT OF STYLE. Of course, you keep that very quiet, as you do not want to be culled yourself.

You are on good terms with your lusus, a BEAR, though this may be due to the fact that you do not see much of each other. You live in your HIVE - which is, by the way, ON THE TOP OF A MOUNTAIN - and your lusus dwells in the caves within said mountain. As a result, you have become rather adept at SPELUNKING, and are familiar with many kinds of CAVERNOUS FLORA AND FAUNA. Back to your hive, it is SPACIOUS and DRAFTY, and you have many extra rooms for GUESTS - but, because you live on top of a FUCKING MOUNTAIN, nobody ever comes.

Alas and alack, you have none of your QUADRANTS filled. This bothers you somewhat, but you remain confident that you will fill them with time.

You've been having ODD DREAMS lately, of a bright moon filled with bright-shelled beings. Though these dreams are a welcome respite from the usual nightmares of wriggling tentacles, you find yourself at a loss as to what they could possibly mean. When you look into the clouds, you see odd portents of the future, or maybe the past. You don't really know, and you hardly ever remember them, anyway.

If you were to play a CERTAIN GAME, you might find yourself in a LAND of CATHEDRALS and SILENCE (/sulphur, maybe), and there find your calling as the PRINCE OF VOID - though you would much prefer something cool like the MONK OF TIME.

(probably'll redo this.) You have reason to believe that your ancestor was the CONTRIVER SINCLERK, a legendary inventor some believe to be the very creator of the Strife Specibus system itself! It was not exactly made clear, in the journal you believe was written by him, how exactly trolls fought before he invented the system. In fact, the whole thing seems rather suspect, but you don't really care. Most trolls don't even find their ancestor!

Your trolltag is crossedTreble, and you teend to speeak in a ratheer meelodic tonee.