Gruber Meister

> Enter Name
Your name is Gruber Meister, but people call you Gruber. People call you Gruber because you never give out your last name. Go figure. It's pretty obvious, you are a very dirty troll. That will be explained in time.

> Enter Deal
What's your deal?

Well, in short, you're acid. Everything about you is acidic. That includes your breath, your spit, your tears, your blood, and any other liquid in your body. Let's leave that up to the imagination.

Frankly, this makes living really, really hard. Your blood isn't THAT acidic, but any amount of acidity in one's body makes it kind of hard to have strong bones. This means your bones are very, very brittle. They break easily. They're also corroding in time, and you will probably be dead by the time you're 9 sweeps old. Good thing, that, since it's either that or the drone is going to take you. Given your mutant condition, it kind of makes quadrants hard. You don't approach those. At all.

Having acid liquid in your body, however, does make a good combat modus operandi. You, however, do not fight people. When you do, it is the most urgent of situations. You are, in short, a pacifist. This makes you a hell of a poor excuse for a troll, so you tend to not tell people about that a lot. In fact, when someone introduces thems fightin words, you'll probably front about it until it comes to the actual moment of action. For someone with brittle bones, you have some pretty good running speed. That's all that needs to be said on the matter.

Anyhow.

You roll around in a trash can all day. Sure, it sounds disgusting, but trashcans are easily replaced and all, and you have a reason for doing so. You have a lisp, you see. Lisps and acid spit make for a wonderful conversation partner, so you don't talk to people outside of your trashcan. By the end of the night, your trashcan is pretty much disintegrated from all that acid breath, so you just use the expendability of a trashcan and get another one. That's the deal. It also makes you an anonymous blood, apparently, because you're not going to go through the trouble of painting a brown symbol on your trashcan every time you get a new one.

That's your deal.

> Examine Hive
Despite being a lowblood and rolling in trash all day, you have a fuckin' kickin' hive. It's like... troll batman's lair. Ratman. Yes. That's it. You are the hack knight. Believe it.

You're pretty loaded, and your hive shows it. Sure, it's covered in trash, that's a side effect of having it built directly under a trashcan in the city. It's also acidic. That doesn't mean its not awesome.

Your hive, is infact, the ratcave. You had it built, as stated before, under a random trashcan in the city. You just open up the lid, hop in, and you slide down a tube to the ratcave. Sure, you don't have fancy costumes lining every wall and an awesome butler, nor do you have a kickass ratcar. But your hive is big and extensive and underground and you've got a few guestrooms as well as a personal cinema and a bunch of other expensive and unnecessary rooms. Believe it or not, you have quite the stash of Caegars you've gotten over the years. You just don't spend them. Not even when you eat.

> Examine Appetite
You eat trash. Well, you don't ONLY eat trash. When your spit is acid, everything tastes like throwup and you don't have a hard time dissolving things so you pretty much will eat anything that was previously edible and doesn't feel bad on your teeth. That said, you don't eat metal or animal bones or anything; that's gross. Rotten food, however, you will eat. You'll also eat normal food, any food, you're not picky, as long as its food.

That said, your breath doesn't smell amazing.

> Examine Lusus


Your lusus is a rat, simply put. Plaguebeast, if you will. Naturally enough, he carries a bunch of diseases on him at one time. He, however, does not bite. He is, infact, a really, really good lusus. He is small, like a normal plaguebeast, about the size of your hand, and will only attack on provocation of your safety. That's really all. He's a good lusus.

> Examine Wardrobe
It is hard to keep a full closet when your clothes keep fucking disintegrating. The fact alone has made you taken up the hobby of sewing your own clothes. Like many, many other trolls, you do not care for fashion, though. Sure, you're pretty good at making clothes, but that doesn't mean you dress extravagantly.

It means you respect the fact that someone doesn't want a naked, diseased streaker trying to fit in with troll society.

Go figure.

> Allocate Strife Specibus
Your STRIFE SPECIBUS is set to bagKind. In almost every situation you are given the opportunity to fight, you abscond. This is both because you dislike harming trolls and are a poor excuse for one, and the fact that it's really fucking hard to fight with a trash bag. So you don't.

You are, however, good at trashcan racing and running. Probably why you're not dead quite yet. Moving on.

> Examine Fetch Modus
Your FETCH MODUS is set to RECYCLE. It's not the best modus, but it is certainly not the worst. See, how it works, is that you must keep your modus full at all times. If you don't, then it doesn't work. In an essence, you fill the metaphorical trashbin of a modus up. Then, once you want to put in or extract an item, you need to switch them out for another item. The item you're exchanging/putting away/whatever has to share atleast one trait in similarity to the other item. It can be color, smell, texture, anything.

Like you said, it's not an amazing modus, but it's not that bad either.

> Anything Else?
Your right horn is broken, and the only thing holding it in place is the trashcan lid you wear all the time. You tend to flip the fuck out on people who touch it.

Also, fuck your life, you have insectophobia. You dislike insects, a lot. A lot a lot. Pass out from fear a lot. This obviously causes a bit of trouble considering you're trash diving all the time.

And if it wasn't plainly obvious, you're sick. All the fucking time.