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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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