Social | |
---|---|
Lusus |
Giant Ant |
Matesprit |
None |
Kismesis |
None/Everyone [when Altered Mind] |
Auspistice |
None |
Morail |
None |
Life and Times of Rook Mirmek[]
While it is true that the lower you are in the caste, the more likely you are to have psychic abilities, Rook's low-blood stature seems to have backfired; as a wriggler, a blow to the head caused his mind to scramble, his psychic abilities turning inward and making him unbalanced. His horns reflect this; while one is tall, proud, and wickedly curved, the other is the nubbiest of humble nubs to ever nub humbly. His giant ant lusus is one of many. Generally, the giant ants do not take wrigglers, as they are constantly on the move, building and digging and delivering. Rook naturally took to working. The physical output kept his broken mind in check, and it naturally molded itself into two separate personalities: the kind, humble fellow, always willing to give advice when asked, always willing to follow instructions and help out any way he can, and the ultimate madness, a mind of such overflowing rage, hatred, and insanity, that it has taken to rallying all of Alternia as its kismesis. When Rook is in his Altered Mind, he wants nothing more than to revel in chaos.
Be the Unstable Philosopher.[]
Your name is ROOK MIRMEK.
Your blood color is DARK, RUST RED, marking you as the lowest of the low bloods. However, you're one of the luckier commoners. If you could call it that. You and your LUSUS venture into the deeper, unfinished caverns in the heart of Alternia. Your large ANT LUSUS kind of creeps you out, but you know first hand that it's best to just do as you're meant to; You and the others in your work group dig tunnels, build lawnrings, respiteblocks, and other various dwellings, and aid in the delivery of wrigglers. Even though you are NINE SOLAR SWEEPS in age, you have been working for the past five. Your work does not leave much time for RECREATION, and TECHNOLOGY ESPECIALLY seems to escape your grasp. You still haven't figure out how to set your TEXT COLOR in TROLLIAN.
Your personal respiteblock is RATHER SMALL, large enough for you and you alone. Your ANT LUSUS prefers to stay on the move, constantly roaming the outside, CULLING FUNGUS and HUNTING FOR FOOD, which you EAT BEGRUDGINGLY. You like to WRITE SONGS, but AREN'T VERY GOOD AT IT. You're better at SINGING, anyway, even if you'd never do so in front of an audience.
You're PRETTY STRONG for your age, which seems to make up for the fact that you LACK PSYCHIC POWERS of ANY KIND. At least, you remember hearing that the low-bloods were more likely to be mentally "gifted." You drew kinda short in this genetic lottery. Even your horns are UNBALANCED, a common trait in your personality. Generally, you find yourself at-ease in a working, simple life. But sometimes, you wake up, and want more. You can feel your eye twitch, your horns itch, and feel the thirst for chaos. You have a fondness for TATTOOS, and even though you only have one, you never miss a chance to show off your SWEET INK.
Your trollTag is differentMadman and you tend to abrev words and make ra's, and seem to lose track of the shift key from t2t J:/
Personal Information[]
- Mentally unbalanced, switching from calm and complacent to rowdy, hyperactive, and sometimes, dangerous
- Tattoos and body modification
- Physically resilient and strong due to line of work, bordering on freakish
- In his "normal" laid-back demeanor, finds himself doling out philosophical, spiritual, and sometimes, romantic advice, when petitioned for it. He secretly loves it.
- His particular mental issues makes forming concupiscent relationships nearly impossible. His disjointed demeanor makes flushed feelings difficult, and when in his "altered" frame of mind, everyone is a kismesiss.
- He seems to have accepted his inevitable fate at the hands of the Imperial Drone.
Trivia[]
- The name, Mirmek, is a bastardization of Myrmecia, a species of ant known as Bulldog Ants.
- As one of his duties is delivering wrigglers to their respiteblocks, Rook often likes to leave things with the unhatched, often bits of paraphernalia he'd picked up in his time digging underground or building dwellings. He also likes to leave his trolltag with them on a piece of paper, though few ever contact him.