Kavani Custos



Typing Quirk:

II Try To keep Thiings professiionall, and II miighT jusT show off jusT how many peoplle aren'T assiigned To Thiis sTupiid lliisTeniing posT.


Milspec GEAR Rig

Strife Specibus:

riflekind, grenadekiind, pistolkind, shotgunkind, other military armaments fill a strife portfolio

Blood Caste:

Green - HEX #27e320 and RGB 39 227 32


A Pineapple Grenade


11 sweeps.

Sgrub Session
Thiis operaTiion iis cerTaiinlly beTTer Than The one where II ended up riidiing a meTeor iinTo a fiirey deaTh.


Subways and Illusions


Soldier of Balance


First: NRG X-TREEM POWAH DRANK [Not happened]
Second: ???

Dream Self:




Team Position:


Social Madness
IIs Thiis The parT of The conversaTiion where you preTend To be iinTeresTed iin my sociiall lliife?










Plateroller. [deceased]

Enter NameEdit

Your name is KAVANI CUSTOS. You are a WOMAN. You already know that but some people have strange ideas.

For as long as you can remember, you have always wanted to join the Alternian MILITARY, regardless of the fact that you would probably be DRAFTED anyway. One of the things you like most about military service is the EXPLOSIVES. Another thing is the sense of ORDER. You actually enjoy the chain of command and the rules and regulations.

You are, however in a pretty shitty SITUATION. You are still fairly new, and you are in the middle of your SECOND posting. Your first was cut dramatically SHORT when you accidentally fragged a superior officer. It wasn't so much the explosion that killed him that got you in trouble so much as your mouth. They didn't mind he was dead, or that you killed him. What they minded was the fact that you did it by ACCIDENT and that you ADMITTED it. Now you have been given the shittiest shit job you can imagine. There is no ACTION, there is no EXCITEMENT and there is no COMERADERIE.

Your mouth has always been kind of a problem. You don't always remember to reign in the little things that cross your mind that might piss off people who are listening. At the same time, you have a hard time telling how to take things other people say to you at times. They don't necessarily make things awkward, but they have been known to cause FRICTION.

Your trolltag is doubleScarecrow and you try to communiicaTe iin as professiionall a fashiion as possiiblle, Though you ofTen iindiicaTe your iinTeresT iin haviing more personell assiigned To your posTiing iin a noT-Too-subTlle manner.

Examine HiveEdit

Wellcome To The mosT uselless posTiing iin allll The uniiverse.

You don't live in a hive, exactly. Your posting has you stationed on an ASTEROID in a distant orbit around Alternia. There you man a LISTENING POST that's meant to be run by three two-person crews. All by yourself. Not that you are worth six people. This is punishment. The fact of the matter is The Empire doesn't believe your posting is all that important. However, you're expected to fulfill as many hours as physically possible. You run several shifts at a time without sleep here. It is cold, and empty and alone out here on this rock. You're provided with energy drinks, stimulants, a vast array of computers that handle the station's tracking and telemetry services, an armory (extremely well stocked despite the very slim chance of any sort of incursion), a workout room, a rec room, a kitchen, and the barracks. If you really wanted to, you could suit up and go OUTSIDE. There is nothing outside, though. It's a big stupid rock floating in space.

Examine RespiteblockEdit

IIf you've seen one barracks, you've seen Them allll. Maybe noT as empTy as Thiis one.

You have your choice of recoon in the BARRACKS. There is one for every troll meant to be stationed here, and then there is yours. The room is rather too big. You'd take advantage of the extra locker space if you had much in the way of clothing. Besides your uniforms, there really isn't much to stow. It is kept neat and tidy by the book. Station telemetry is constantly sending back reports on your conduct, and rations and other amenities can be withheld for infractions.

Examine LocationEdit

Miiddlle of fuckiin' nowhere, buddy.

It's a ROCK. In a wide orbit far out along Alternia's ecliptic. It's not the only one in this orbit, as it's a chunk off a PLANET the Empire destroyed specifically to seed this orbital path with listening posts. It's gray, devoid of atmosphere, water, life, or anything of interest besides your listening post, and that's not saying much.

Examine SelfEdit

II had a physiicall llasT Tiime II saw anoTher Trollll. Don'T need you pawiing aT me, now.

You stand at 5'7", with an athletic build. Your military training leaves you with little to no body fat and a well defined physique. You are slender and quick. If it weren't for your face, you could almost be mistaken for a man in your full battle uniform.

You aren't much for keeping up appearances. Your hair is a wild pile on top of your head, and you leave it mussed from sleep nine times out of ten. Your horns are thick and large, though the spiraling curve makes them look smaller.

The only concession to personal style you wear is your ubiquitous green tinted shades.

Allocate Strife SpecibusEdit

STandard miilliiTary iissue. II've goT more Thiings iin Thiis porTfolliio Than II coulld possiiblly use iin one lliifeTiime.

You've been issued a military grade strife PORTFOLIO, which means you're capable of using all standard Alternian military armaments. You've had the added DEMOLITIONS package, as well as the HEAVY WEAPONS loadout. You're fond of things that go boom, and you're good enough at throwing GRENADES you can put one pretty much wherever you want to. With one notable exception. To while away the long hours you spend a lot of time cleaning and maintaining the various weapons in the ARMORY. You'd love the opportunity to actually USE them some day.

Examine Fetch ModusEdit

Allso sTandard miilliiTary iissue. No Tiime To pllay siilllly games whiille under fiire.

This is also army issue. The GEAR modus (General Equipment Allocation and Retrieval) allows you to get exactly what you want exactly when you want it. No need for silly shenanigans like playing games or thinking up codes while under fire. Additionally, it has an enormous weight limit. It's inconceivable that you would run out of space to carry anything you'd need to.

Do Something AwesomeEdit


You're TRAINED in awesome. You set up an empty coffee can at the far side of your dead empty barracks, stand at the other end with your back to it, and toss a dummy grenade at it. It goes in with a "thunk" and doesn't even knock the can over.

Do Something RidiculousEdit

ThaT woulld be agaiinsT The code of conducT.

You double fist a few energy drinks, then a few more, then practice how quick you can recite the military alphabet backwards while pronouncing the words themselves backwards. Then you burn off the rest of the energy trying to see how many empty cans you can juggle while whistling the Alternian Anthem backwards. For several hours.

Examine AbilitiesEdit


Peak physiicall condiiTiion for a Trollll my age wiiTh my Traiiniing and enhancemenTs.

You were fairly AVERAGE before boot camp and indoctrination training. Now, you are FASTER and STRONGER than most trolls, though still AVERAGE amongst your military compatriots. You've been trained in close combat, but prefer to stay at range. You can run an obstacle course blindfolded while under fire. Then again, so could the rest of your graduating class, because otherwise they died.


Miissed ThaT boaT, sadlly.

You have ZERO psychic ability. None at all. You've got enough on your side without having that kind of edge, anyway.


WhaT ellse coulld you possiiblly wanT To know?

[Coming Soon]


The facT ThaT II am noT dead iis The besT parT so far.

Pesterchum / TriviaEdit


Examine ChumprollEdit


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