Your name is Mortem Somnum. You are exactly 8 sweeps old (17 earth years) and ever since you were 6 sweeps, you've been sick and tired. You don't know why, but you have. You cough up blood, when you get nervous but you're used to it. You have a gap between your teeth from when you fell from the top of your hive. It hurt then but it doesn't hurt now. Unless you poke it really hard, which you try not to do. Since you are sick constantly you are also very sleepy. You are almost always in your recuperacoon. But you of course, can still fight. You acutally kind of like fighting. To help you fight you eat tons of food, which makes you kind of fat. Which also contributes to your laziness. Lazy ass fuck. OH WELL. Let's get back to your sickly deal. You have a spreading disease that is slowly enveloping your face. You don't know if it will kill you or not, but so far it's been harmless. You wonder how you've lived this long. I guess why we are on the topic of you, we might as well speak of your "power". You can make weapons out of your own blood. But they only remain stable for a little bit, so you are fairly limited. Your interests inculde fuzzy socks and whips. Wow, what a freak you are. Whenever you feel like moving you talk to your friends. You adore your friends to death, and want nothing more than to be with them. Your troll handle is dyingCadaver, and you tend to speak wiTh capiTal T's and a cough afTer every senTence *cough*.
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