normal thing to say about your dear friend who you think is really cute and charming and hard-working and basically the perfect wife material

World:  honestly not sure yet; i’m thinking either alternia or some sort of alternate universe that follows pretty much all of the same rules but with a different history, whatever my friends decide on.  (i’m considering the latter due to my friends having limeblooded characters based off of their extended zodiac. pfft who knows.) Name:  Diezzi Cafein  (truly i wish i had some sort of interesting and witty explanation for this name, but nope, all I can say is this is a cheap bastardization of my league of legends user haha: dizzyoncaffeine)

Hey, the name has meaning, then. It means Dizzy on Caffeine! You just gotta pull that characterization through. Make sure Diezzi is caffeinated. Age:  7.5 sweeps

Theme/Story:  Diezzi fears becoming just like their ancestor, The Betrayer (personal hitman for the ruler at the time who killed some close friends and/or the ruler before killing themselves), doing their best to avoid a fate like theirs though subconsciously failing to escape the inevitable as their personality, interests, and morale paralleling that of the former assassin. though i’m not set yet on wether or not i make this next bit canon, i think they might directly follow in those footsteps by killing some friends for *time*, considering their classpect.  Goals:  I’m looking for a general overview! I really want to have a second opinion on both general and visual design so that I can fix all the flaws I may be unable to fully see. I didn’t have any thematic or vision at all when I first made this character, most of it just being random fun, so there’s probably a lot of issues thanks to that haha Strife Specibus:  scissorkind, 1/2scissorkind  (their main weapon consists of a *rather* large pair of scissors, white + glowy blades with bright red tips. i have yet to name these scissors mostly due to my laziness. though it’d typically be able to be weaponized in a variety of different ways unique to the scissor form, Diezzi’s dumbass managed to find a way to accidentally break it resulting in them pretty much just being two weird swords. oh well.) Particular weapons don’t really need names until you hop into Sburb anyways! Now something important to consider here is that weapons for Trolls usually tend to be related to a character’s interests or ambitions. (See: Karkat using a sickle because of career ambitions, Nepeta using claws because She’s Cat, and Vriska using dice because she loves luck and pirates). So what is the utility for Diezzi? Why do they use the scissors? Create an interest or ambition that leads to this. Fetch Modus: honestly not quite sure what to make it yet. suggestions are welcome!

Fetch Moduses are also usually interest-based. Since your character likes bones, how about a Skeletal Chart? Each object is placed in a bone on a fake troll skeleton and in order to get the item, you’ve gotta Name That Bone! 

Blood Color:  indigo Symbol and Meaning:  sagiries (this was actually the answer i originally obtained from the extended zodiac quiz haha) Handle:  grievousCollections  (the name simply alludes to Diezzi’s skull collection. don’t worry, they’re not troll skulls! … yet?) Quirk: - types in all lowercase, except for the last letter of every sentencE. - (uses parenthesis when whispering or saying something somewhat offtopic) - sometimes spams the semicolon ;;;;; to emphasize disbelief or confusion. - r-plac-s all ‘e’s with a hyp-n, -, unless the last l-tt-r of the s-nt-nc- is an e, in that cas- it is replac-d with a plus sign + - doubles all ‘i’s, even in proper names or words that already have double consecutiive ‘ii’s. - question and exclamation marks are always separated from the sentence by a space ! but not periods.

Special Abilities:  n/a

Don’t forget that Blues usually have Big Strength. Not Equius level, but still pretty strong. Lusus/Guardian: a large quadraped with a graceful yet very canine-like build, a slight bit bigger than a deer. their front feet have paws but their back have hooflike ends. no visible eyes or ears whatsoever but have horns just like Diezzi’s. long, furless, and slick tentacle-like tail that you hopeful won’t get slapped in the face by. haven’t thought of a personality/relationship yet whoops!

This is nicely creative. AND the descrip vaguely reminds me of Horsaroni, which is fun.  Interests: Diezzi collects the skulls of different lusii and boasts a rather impressive collection too. while it may seem to be something for intimidating other trolls, it’s really just a bit of morbid curiosity and they *tend* to get their skulls for already dead lusii. on the topic of, Diezzi likes milk (haha get it cause like calcium and stuff). wait no, they *love* it. their moirail pokes fun at them for this odd fixation on the liquid but they don’t care anymore. they would live exclusively off it if given the chance. no cap. aside from that, they’re honestly a bit of a dork and like to play whatever troll the troll version of league is although they honestly aren’t all that good at it.

This is a good start, but I think for a more well-rounded character you might want to throw two of three more things into the mix. To bring in the example of another blueblooded milk fan, Equius likes Milk, but he also likes fine art of hoofbeasts, and archery, and robotics. Tavros liked obvious theme stuff like Peter Pan/Fairies/General Fantasy, but he also liked jousting and Fiduspawn and FLARPing and slam poetry. Try to bring in a few more broad fascinations and then narrow down the particulars and you’ll have a stronger character.

Appearance: +  +  +

Personality:  they like to think of themself as the more sane one between them and their palemate but honestly? not really. they’re a bit stressed + anxious at any given time but cover it up with a chill and reasonable demeanor. though this might make them a generally cool and sensible troll to be around, sometimes the unspoken inner turmoil can lead to poor mental health if it’s bad enough. for some reason time’s never on their side, though that’s partly because of their *shit* sense of time. they have a bad tendency to stay up late (sometimes to the point they’re well into daytime until they realize they should probably get some sleep) and usually over/under estimate how long something will take. they suffer from this ever-constant sense of running out time, even when there’s nothing to do. they’re surprisingly open to different ideas and don’t really dwell too much on blood color for a member of a cooler caste, though Diezzi probably won’t stand for any specific cause if it could potentially lead to pissing off higherbloods, for several reasons. however, if something directly affects a lowblood pal, this is tempted to change. sometimes you gotta prove yourself better than your shitty ancestor… but hopefully something like that won’t happen cause being loyal and self sacrificing is fucking scary dude. Lunar Sway: Derse

The personality you describe is honestly more in line with a Prospitan. The fear of becoming like their ancestor thing especially- remember that Prospit players believe more in fate/destiny and are more likely to believe that the ancestor thing holds any weight. Most trolls don’t know or care much about their ancestor, who usually died well before their time. 

Vriska knows about Mindfang because she discovered her journal, but most trolls aren’t going to have that kind of knowledge or connection unless they’re deeply invested in the narrative of the ancestors-- It’s kind of like the human idea of the Zodiac in that way. While some people are really diehard believers that it’s some kind of predetermination of personality, other people don’t know or care about it at all. 

Which isn’t to say dersites can’t know about it, they’re just probably not going to actually BELIEVE it as much. So if Diezzi is the type to believe in ancestors Thoroughly and Passionately and to worry about their inevitable fate, they might make a better prospit character. 

If you wanna make them more derse, you’ll need to pull back on the predetermination idea and give them a little more of that dersite “something to fight for” spirit. That doesn’t mean they have to want to fight for anything Big, they could just like... want to start a Got Milk? campaign in their local neighborhood.   Title:  Thief of Time

Thieves and Princes/Bards are up there as the most Selfish classes. That’s something you have to think about with this title. How do you want this character to develop? Do they need to learn to be selfish and take time for themself instead of sharing it with others? Or will Thief of Time play on their worst habits and make them into a terrible person? Is that what’s necessary for the course of the story? Those kinds of things are hard to consider, but necessary. 

Now, the EZ can get a little Time and Space happy (since those are the two necessary aspects and so they come up more often), and I think that’s what happened here. Which isn’t to say I don’t think Diezzi (or you) wouldn’t make a good time player. I think you just need to emphasize the fact that Diezzi needs to Learn to rail against something. Because Time is about Fighting The Flows Of Time, and making them your own, ESPECIALLY as a thief.  Land: Land of Embers and Constellations (LOEAC), inhabited by crocodile consorts and the denizen Hephaestus.

I don’t have any design notes, I think this design is fantastic! Thank you so much for sharing and I hope this helped. 

-CD

RP Snippets - The Dream

So... anybody up for a little story time?  The Grillster Shipping Month thing started by @silverskye13 has been a good excuse for me to drag out various Grillster bits and bobs I’ve collected, along with doing some new stuff.  A couple of those bits are things I wrote sort of as filler/world-building interludes for an RP that DH and I did.  I don’t know if they make much sense on their own, but heck, I thought I might toss them up for funsies.

Context for the following scene:  Dee accidentally transported himself into an alternate universe.  It was not good times.  It was, in fact, very bad times that included nearly killing his alternate self, much pissiness and fighting, and neither of them liking the other very much.  After much soap-opera-ness, he and that ‘verse’s Gaster (aka Will) make peace.  Rum is involved.  Dee gets drunk off his ass.  Also, the Roman mentioned is Will’s deceased husband and Dee doesn’t “get” romance.

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Dee didn't have much to offer in response, aside from a few nods of acknowledgement. He was already drifting. He didn't seem to notice any more of Will's preparations for bed. Not the taking away of the tea and it's accompaniment that had led to this condition, nor the loss of light to a mere dim glow somewhere around the corner of the kitchen doorway. As the main lights went off, the colors of the fire tinted the surroundings in shifting gold and orange and red. Shadows folded themselves into the living painting, emerging and disappearing in an entrancing dance with the hearthlight. This, along with the lulling smell of woodsmoke, drew his already unresistant self into sleep like a gentle tide. Body stilled and eyes closed, the older doctor remained as he had first arranged himself on the couch, slumbering quietly as the hours ticked past. But in the deep of the night, he began to stir. Not physically, but mentally. He had slipped through the other stages of rest until he eased into that one that every mind must traverse. The last images of his waking hours transferred themselves from his recent memory onto the walls of his subconscious. Undefined darkness gave way to warm colors that somehow radiated heat. A familiar, comforting scent haunted the air. He drew in a deep breath through his thin nostrils. He thought of fire and wood and snow. Laughter and drinks. A song he could half remember, something scratchy and old and without words, like an ancient gramophone recording. It streamed gently from his mind into the space around him, so that he no longer heard it in his thoughts but from outside himself. He turned in place, trying to locate from where the music came, his shoes scuffing softly on the hard floor. Perhaps if he could find the source, he could remember the name of the song. His gaze finally came to light on an old jukebox. Though it was well-kept for what it was, a relic fished out of the waters of the biggest fall, he knew it worked intermittently and couldn't recall this particular record being available on it. Before he could puzzle over it more or even think to check the choice labels to see if they might offer an answer, something else pulled his attention away. Not far from the jukebox, a shadow dipped in and out of the wavering colors of the wall. It was too far away to be cast from the device itself, if such an occurrence would even make sense, and yet there were no other sources for such a deep break in the illumination that came from everywhere and nowhere. The shadow continued to swim in and out of the light, broken up rather than in one piece, teasingly close yet so indistinct. Dee watched the enigma in fascination. Curiosity built inside him until he could contain it no longer. He reached out. But so far was he from the wall, that his fingertips merely grazed the air. It would take several steps upon several steps for him to actually touch the strange form. Still, his action provoked a reaction. The wobbling darkness came forward again and, this time, did not retreat. It pressed against the film of barrier. Coallescing out of the wavering light, it took on a more recognizable state. It drew unto itself the fiery colors as it stepped forth. The whites, the golds, the reds, the oranges. The black settled into concrete shapes. Sharp lines and angles. The shine of black leather shoes, hard soles that mimicked his own. A smart vest, neatly tied bowtie, a glint of glass, and the crisp white shirt. He stared as this newly born form came toward him, trailing wisps that fluttered in unfelt currents. The name shot a pang through his SOUL: Grillby. However, his friend didn't simply walk toward him. No, something else was happening. Something he couldn't quite grasp. Grillby seemed to be... dancing. But the dance made no sense. Dee couldn't track the path those feet took. It was like watching an old, ill-preserved film in some ways. There were skips and gaps. He couldn't predict where his friend would be from one movement to the next. It was surreal and disconcerting, yet somehow ethereal and beautiful. As much as he tried to understand it, he couldn't. And it frustrated him because he didn't know where to go to meet him. So it was with a start of surprise that Dee found his friend already standing before him. As if he had been waiting there all along. He felt warm hands curl around his own, the feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced before. How could one describe the texture and give of living fire? He vaguely recalled having felt it once or twice. A quiet voice, warm as the feeling that rolled off the elemental in waves, tickled his mind with a seemingly simple request. Dance with me. Dee felt his expression fall. He looked blankly at his friend. "I... I can't. I..." His words trailed off as he glanced around in a faint panic, searching for something that could remedy his lack of knowledge and ability. To the side, he noticed that two others had joined them in the flame-painted room. Will, his translucent flesh reflecting the cozy hues, and a skeleton - Roman, his own thoughts seemed to whisper to him - whose white bones did the same in a more muted way. The pair seemed oblivious to their audience as they moved, smiling and happy and glitching about in those same skipping steps. Dee found he could no more follow them than he had been able to follow Grillby. No matter how hard he stared, he couldn't decipher the pattern. Finally, he turned his gaze back to his friend and admitted in defeat, "I don't know how. I don't understand this dance." He fully expected Grillby to leave him in disappointment, to dance again on his own. Instead, he felt more than saw the smile his friend directed at him. He heard the quiet voice again as Grillby's face tilted just a little closer. Then teach me how you dance. Dee blinked in surprise. He... hadn't expected for that to be suggested. Could he even do so? More importantly, though, "There are others who understand this dance. It isn't that I wouldn't dance with you, but it wouldn't be the dance you wanted." He felt the grip on his hands tighten in a very gentle manner. Dee... Grillby's face came a little closer, almost touching forehead to forehead. The steps don't matter. All that's important is that I'm dancing with you. Dee stood for a moment absorbing that statement. It was powerful. Empowering. The more it seeped into him, the less room he had for doubt. Grillby didn't care about what the dance was, as long as they were dancing together. It didn't matter if he couldn't do what Will and Roman were. What Grillby could do on his own. His long hands shifted in those fiery ones. He took a step to find his friend matched him near perfectly. Another step they took. Another and another. Soon stringing them together in a coherent path. So quick and adept Grillby was at mirroring and complimenting, almost as if he had already spent hours upon hours observing Dee do this dance before, memorizing the steps for the day he could take them himself. He didn't really need teaching and Dee didn't really mind. All he did was send an amused, mock scolding thought toward his friend, who accepted it with a hidden grin. They traced their own path about the room. Now they were the ones oblivious to whether the other pair still danced along in the same space. All they knew was the contentment, the joy, the companionship of their own steps, the way Dee led in this part and Grillby led in another, following and guiding each other along the way. They made their own pattern, incorporating what each of them knew and what the other could come to understand, until they had something uniquely their own.