> ') ... i'm Sort-of... being SeriouS here... >


Exeter Oburos




INDIGO (#37D79B, RGB 050, 000, 100)

Typing Quirk

All lowercase. Capitalizes letters that make an "S" or "SH" sound. Tends to use a lot of ellipses, breaking up his sentences.


A circle formed of a serpent coiling around and eating itself. (The Oroboros)



Strife Specibus


SGRUB Session


Prince of Breath


Land of Steel and Ruins (LoSaR)

Dream Self



Pre entry: Toy Robot Post Entry: Lusus (prototyped self)


"The Chosen"

Team Position


> ') ... iS thiS really... an appropriate topic of diScuSSion... ?>


A giant, heat-lasering, flammable acid-spitting, psychically gifted cobra.


allusiveThief (Deceased)







Auspistee #1


Auspistee #2


Enter NameEdit

Your name is EXETER OBUROS.

At the age of 9 Solar Sweeps, you are a prodigy THRESHECUTIONER, who's skills have earned you the admiration of the highest orders. You value efficiency and professionalism above all else, but are decidedly a follower rather than a leader. Any job you take is executed with ruthless efficiency and obligation towards any specified parameters given to you by those who command your services. Despite this you are DECIDEDLY MISERABLE. Your depression shows itself in the way you speak and act at times, but in the end you are still SERIOUS BUSINESS. Business before sorrow, as they say...

Your LUSUS is a massive, Cobra-like creature known as KING. He speaks to you via the special psychic bond you share. He prefers to be called your master, seeing the term "Lusus" to be TOO COMMON for his tastes. He is incredibly arrogant, but it's very hard to argue with him. Despite all this, he is a dedicated guardian who has ruthlessly trained and molded you into the expert assassin you are today, and his wisdom continues to guide you and your actions so you may one day ACHIEVE YOUR ULTIMATE REVENGE.

It was just 2 Alternian Sweeps ago that your BELOVED MATESPRIT was BRUTALLY MURDERED before your very eyes, and you have dedicated the rest of your short life towards bringing those who perpetrated this devious act to a quick and bloody end. Your life will be short, by the way, because you have it on good authority that YOU ARE DESTINED TO DIE BEFORE YOUR 10TH WRIGGLING DAY. So, as King would say, your revenge must come swift and silent as the wind.

Your trolltag is "terminusAce", and > ') ... your teXt revealS that... you are frequently SHort of breath, and... tend to linger on Certain SoundS... >

What will you do?

Examine RoomEdit

Your room is fairly neat and somewhat... barren... As if having just recently been built and never properly lived-in.

Of course, this couldn't be further from the truth. This place was once littered with telltale signs of your various INTERESTS. However, as you grew older (and when you got all emo depressed and shit), your interests in these things began to fade. You started cleaning up so that your room would reflect the EMPTINESS OF YOUR SOUL. It does so very properly, now. Although practically bare with only the essentials at-hand, you can still spot one or two hints of your PAST INTERESTS. You keep these things as a reminder of the parts of you you lost and would DESPERATELY LIKE TO HAVE BACK.

One of these is a model spaceship or two hanging from your cieling on a thin piece of wire. There used to be more. In fact, dozens upon hundreds. They once littered your room, making it a veritable sci-fi Fanboy paradise. You have always had a deep fascination with OUTER SPACE, and the possibility that ALIEN LIFEFORMS COULD EXIST. You have always wanted to take your own spaceship and crew of EXPLORAIDERS across the galaxy, in the name of scientific exploration! New planets to be conquered, new species to be subjugated or befriended (or eliminated, but that's when you call someone else for the job...). It all seemed so... exciting.

Of course, you've long since abandoned this hobby of daydreaming, and only a few models remain. In totally, you have 5 remaining. The previous 2 hanging from the cieling, and 3 more neatly stowed away on a bookshelf beside some culinary literature (memo books you have written for yourself).

... Oh, how could you forget... YOU LOVE COOKING.

Or, at least you used to. Or maybe you still do? You're not sure. You haven't tried your hand at it in at least 2 Alternian Sweeps. Troll Society doesn't usually place any importance on the culinary arts, as much as they do on fashion. With most trolls, you either have food, or you don't. It doesn't usually matter what it tastes like. But you... you're sort-of a little DIFFERENT. You place A LOT OF EMPHASIS ON FLAVOR. You love to TASTE THINGS, but most of all you like to COOK THINGS THAT TASTE EXCELLENT. It's always exciting to take a couple herbs and spices, experiment with new meats and cooking techniques. Because Troll Cuisine isn't an actual art or actually anything that really exists, you are kind of paving the new frontier all by yourself, so there are really no standards to compare yourself to.

... you guess... in a really lame technical sort of way... this makes you THE BEST THERE IS. By default...

... you wonder if that counts....

Examine Combat ReadinessEdit

You have wide variety of ASSASSINATION TOOLS which are required by your line of work kept organized neatly in your STRIFE PORTFOLIO. Your 3 favorites, however, are your HANDGUNKIND, RIFLEKIND, and SCYTHEKIND specibi. Your master himself (King, if you forgot) granted you one of his deadly fangs for alchemizing into a deadly scythe, which you still use today. He has long since grown a replacement, so no worries.

As for your personal capabilities, you are an expert in singles combat. You don't have a lot of muscle so your hand-to-hand dominance isn't where you'd like it, but you make up for this with the split-second timing of your cat-like reflexes. In fact, you'd say your reflexes were better than a cat's. You'd probably say they were... SNAKE-like. Your agility is through the roof, but you don't make a habit of travelling by flippidy-jumping all over the place.

Your deadliest asset, however, is your cold, steely gaze, but that'll be explained a bit later...

Examine Fetch ModusEdit

This thing... You have no idea where it came from. Your METEOMODUS appeared to you randomly through a strange vortex in space-time and it has captivated you ever since. It seems to be an inventory system based on an alien game called "Meteos". Whatever species developed this simulation was surely a race to be feared, as the entire premise of the game is to shoot ironically friendly looking and colorful blocks to other planets in order to ultimately destroy them. Depositing items seems to be as simple as selecting a planet to store your item on, and then selecting a block color to represent the item. Then line up 3 or more of that same color block and launch it off the screen to withdraw the item. There are several other nuances to this little game-like storage device you have yet to decipher.

Also, the game itself is just incredibly fun.

Do something awesomeEdit

You... you're not sure you know HOW.

The ironic thing is that most trolls consider you pretty awesome already just doing what you normally do. Whereas to you, it's JUST WORK.

... time to get back to work, you suppose...

Do something incredibly ridiculousEdit

What? Why? Uh, well... okay, you guess.

You go over to your bookshelf where you keep some COOKING MANUALS you have written neatly organized. You take out Volume 2 and slip it in between volumes 4 and 5.

Holy shit... just look at you!


In the past...Edit

Your name is King.

You are an enormous, regal slitherfiend slithering his way purposefully across the wasteland. A massive creature lies dead in your wake, having felt the cold, steely embrace of death in your eyes. More corpses sparsely dot the trail you leave behind as you continue.

Something is drawing you onward. Something familiar.

After several miles of travel you raise your regal head over the edge of a small cliff, overlooking a small valley.

There are corpses everywhere.

In the center of this grotesque menagerie wanders a single grub. A tiny, broodling troll from deep within the caverns. How is it that he lives while the many powerful creatures lying around him do not?

You have a suspicion. An intriguing suspicion. It was something you'd hoped for.

You sneak your way into the valley, gracefully weaving your way in and out of the openings between the rocks and festering heaps of white flesh, and rainbow blood. Small nibbles on the corpses show that the young broodling has survived by taking tiny nibbles of the corpses left behind.

Soon enough, your coils surround him. The grub curls in fear and his eyes dart this way and that. He is genuinely frightened, and yet he eats like a king from the flesh of beasts much greater than he...

You raise your head, expand your hood, and gaze deep into his eyes.

As if hypnotized, the young grub gazes back. You can see the fear, but still... you are impressed.

The child... did not succumb to the gaze of death.

This proves it. Your suspicion has been justified. This child possesses the DEATH GLARE, just as you do. Only those who possess it do not succumb to it's cold embrace. It is likely that the young grub doesn't even understand he has it. He does not understand that all of these creatures died merely gazing into his eyes. He does not understand what an incredible power over the forces of life and death he possesses, and how it is both a blessing and a curse.

The Death Glare is native to your kind, of which there are only a handful in all of Alternia. Regal Slitherfiends possess the capability to manually activate and deactivate this atrocious power. But you fear that a young troll will never be able to turn his off.

Rearing your head back, and baring your fangs, you lunge forward and consume the hapless grub, but you do not intend to eat him. No, he will sit in your stomach for just a bit, nestled comfortably while you bring him to safety. Or, rather... while you take him to a place where other trolls will be safe from him.

You will raise him as your own, and when the time comes... the queen has been awaiting new blood in the flaysquads. With the proper training, he will make a fine Threshecutioner...

In the future...Edit

You will be picked up by strange, alien agents who say they are affiliated with an inter-dimensional organization called "STASIS". In "The Chosen" storyline (read below), you are picked up shortly after the session has been completed and won. In any other instance, you are picked up shortly before the reckoning.

Sgrub Session (The Chosen)

A MYSTERIOUS FRIEND will call upon your services as a prodigy much like himself. Gathering you and yet 2 other Prodigies in various fields, he will form A TEAM in hopes of reaching that much sought-after goal. You will succeed, of course, but only after NUMEROUS, MISCELLANEOUS SETBACKS, and the help of FOUR ALIEN INDIVIDUALS.

Examine ChumpRoll...

There are only two people on your chump-roll right now... First on your list is your friend "ancientAggression [AA]", also known as ELROJO DIABLO.

You met this guy shortly upon entering the session, as he ended up being one of the team-mates your mysterious friend (below) gathered up. As it turns out, he is your GOOD BRO, now, and despite many differences you both seem to share an interest in the mystery of alien life, and talk at great length about any new information that pops up about it or theories you have. As it turns out, he is not quite as bad as he looks, and to be honest he looks really really bad.

Finally on your list is "glitchedArchangelist [GA]", also known as AEREOS VIRALI.
You actually haven't known this guy very long, but you've heard about him. He is apparantly one of the highest ranking ARCHERADICATORS in the force, and has taken a particular interest in you and other prodigies such as ELROIO. He says that the world is ending and he wants you to help him make a new one. You didn't really care at first, but then he sorta blackmailed you...

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