Ubzeenk Spliss (Stufe 1) mail warning

I am a goblin. Stop starring at me.

Personality

🟢 Core Personality Traits

Street-Smart & Cunning
Ubzeenk isn’t "book smart" or formally educated — but she’s incredibly quick-thinking, observant, and knows how people (and machines) tick. She can spot a scam, a soft target, or a weak point in a wall or ego in seconds.

Resourceful & Scrappy
She can build a pressure-sensitive tripwire alarm out of three bottle caps and a bent spoon. Broken vending machine? She’ll fix it with bubblegum and make it dispense extra snacks for a week.

Cheeky, Not Cruel
She enjoys causing mild chaos — harmless pranks, unexpected surprises, or trick doors that dump glitter on your head. Never designed to hurt — just to remind people they missed something.

Fixation on Broken Things
Broken bikes, cracked pipes, frayed cords, old radios — she hates seeing things tossed out or left to rust. She takes it personally, like the object is asking her to make it right again.

Proud but Practical
She’s proud of her work — not in a showy way, but in the “stand back and admire that perfectly wired tripplate under the welcome mat” kind of way. She won’t brag... unless you step in it.

🛠️ Work Ethic & Habits

Hands Always Busy
If she’s talking, she’s also fiddling with something — twisting wire, sorting screws, sketching a trap, or fixing a squeaky hinge without asking.

Tinkers by Instinct
She doesn't need manuals. She understands things by touching them, listening, and taking them apart. She calls this “talking with her claws.”

No Blueprint, No Problem
Her workbench is a chaotic mess — but she knows where everything is. Ask her for a left-threaded copper bolt and she’ll fish it out in five seconds from under a pile of tin cans.

🧃 Social Traits

Charming in a Weird Way
She’s got an oddball charisma — quick wit, toothy grins, and fast-talking, especially when she wants something. She’s the type who trades info for a spare fuse or a good coffee.

Suspicious by Default
Goblin life in a modern city taught her not to trust promises, paperwork, or anyone in a suit. Trust is earned, and slowly.

Loyal to the Bone
If someone proves themselves decent, especially by appreciating her work or respecting “her things,” she’ll fix their broken stuff for life — whether they ask or not.

Territorial with a Soft Spot
Don’t mess with her workshop. Or her collection of “junk” (which is not junk). But if a stray cat shows up on her fire escape, she’s feeding it and naming it within the hour.

💬 Speech Style & Mannerisms

Casual, clipped sentences with a little snark.

Sometimes talks to machines or traps like they’re people.

Calls her tools by nicknames: “Zappy,” “Grabber,” “Lil’ Biter.”

Has a wicked giggle when a trap goes off (harmlessly).

🌆 Urban Goblin Vibes

Rides a beat-up electric scooter with secret compartments.

Hangs out in abandoned train stations, rooftop sheds, and alleys full of parts.

Works part-time fixing appliances, full-time setting up “surprise deterrents” for nosy landlords or grumpy neighbors.

Possibly has a side hustle selling “custom security systems” to local cafés and underground clubs.

❤️ Things She Loves

Clicks, clacks, and satisfying mechanical sounds

Finding the exact right part in a pile of scrap

Well-timed pranks with perfect engineering

Small, quiet machines that just work

People who say “thank you” after she fixes their junk

❌ Things She Can’t Stand

Overcomplicated tech that breaks easily

Rich folks who throw away perfectly good stuff

People who underestimate her because she’s small, green, and speaks in fragments

Things that break from carelessness

Anyone who triggers her trap and doesn’t appreciate the craftsmanship

Skills, Abilities

🟢 I. Personal Skills (Learned or Developed Abilities)

These are her unique talents — things she’s honed through practice, experience, and a lot of trial and (probably, very much likely, explosive) error.

🛠️ Mechanical Ingenuity (Tinkerer’s Talent)

Can repair, rebuild, or repurpose almost any mechanical or electronic device — even if she’s never seen that model before.

Her fixes are ugly but functional — duct tape, zip ties, gum, and uncanny goblin intuition.

Can jury-rig tools, doors, scooters, vending machines, and even self-made gadgets on the fly.

🎯 Trapmaking (Urban-Grade Chaos Engineering)

Expert at designing non-lethal, unpredictable, or embarrassing traps.

Think: tripwires that deploy glitter bombs, doorbells that spray dye, or fake floor panels with spring-loaded surprises.

Loves placing traps in places nobody expects: filing cabinets, ceiling tiles, elevator buttons, flowerpots.

👂 Environmental Awareness

Highly tuned to sounds, smells, vibrations — she notices loose tiles, broken circuits, drafty walls, etc.

Makes her hard to sneak up on, and excellent at spotting security flaws, escape routes, and ambush points.

🧠 Street-Smart & Fast-Talker

Knows how to blend into city life, negotiate with shady types, and talk her way out of trouble.

Can sniff out scams or fake tech.

Masters the art of “borrow now, explain later.”

👣 Urban Mobility

Can climb fire escapes, squeeze through vents, slide under turnstiles, and navigate rooftops like a parkour squirrel.

Owns a beat-up folding electric scooter with a few questionable modifications (and maybe a trap compartment).

🧰 Tool Familiarity

Has names and specific uses for every tool, even if they’re makeshift.

Usually carries:

A multi-tool with a sparkstone igniter

A tiny welder made from a toaster

A pouch of “emergency springs”

Gum with copper threads for temporary wire fixes

🟡 II. Species-Like Traits (Goblin Biology & Instinct)

These abilities stem from her being a goblin, adapted to urban life, but rooted in classic fantasy traits.

👀 Darkvision

Can see perfectly in low-light or dark environments — subway tunnels, back alleys, utility shafts.

👃 Sharp Senses

Goblins are naturally olfactorily gifted — she can sniff out burnt wires, spoiled food, or someone hiding in a closet.

🤏 Small Size & Dexterity

Can squeeze through tight spaces others can’t.

Extremely nimble fingers — ideal for wiring, sneaky disassembly, or stealing batteries from remote controls.

⚡ Fast Reflexes

Quick reactions make her good at dodging, escaping, and grabbing things before they hit the ground.

Can spring out of danger, which is useful for anyone who wires their doorknob to a confetti cannon.

🦠 Mild Toxin Resistance

Can safely handle toxic glue, rusted metal, spoiled food, or magical trash without getting too sick.

Probably drinks expired soda without blinking.

💡 Goblin Logic

Not quite intuitive to others, but her logic works — often finds solutions in ways that seem “wrong” but somehow always work.
(Example: rewiring a broken fuse box with a music box spring and a broken microwave fan. It shouldn't work. But it does.)

🔺 Magical Touch

✨ Scrap Sense

Can “feel” when an object nearby can be fixed, salvaged, or contains a hidden component.

✨ Trap Sigil (Homebrew Spell)

She can mark an object with a harmless but very annoying sigil that activates if someone messes with it. Effects: buzzing sound, glitter burst, loud goblin laughter, etc.

Origin

“It was broken. So I fixed it. That’s how this whole thing started.”

I wasn’t born in some glowing goblin warren full of tradition and mushrooms and torchlit storytelling. I was born in a laundromat storage closet, behind a rattling row of dryers that leaked more steam than sense. My first crib was a detergent box. I used to chew on loose dryer belts.

Nobody really raised me — not in the warm, sit-you-on-the-knee kind of way. I mostly raised myself on a steady diet of dropped change, forgotten tools, broken vending machines, and questions no one else was asking.

Why does the heating vent whistle at 3 a.m.?
Why do all the lights flicker when the fridge runs?
Why does the alley behind the pizza place smell like melted plastic and cinnamon?

And most importantly:
Why does everyone throw away things that can still work?

🛠️ The First Fix

I fixed my first thing when I was five — a busted toy robot someone had left next to a dumpster. One of those wind-up ones, missing a leg. I didn't have glue, so I used chewing gum and a bent fork. It limped, but it walked. I followed it for three blocks.

After that, I started collecting broken stuff like treasure — old radios, phones with shattered screens, cracked bike parts, forgotten blenders. I didn’t care what it was. If it was broken, I wanted to know why.

And once I knew why…
I had to fix it.

🎯 The First Trap

The traps came later — but not much later.

See, there was a kid who liked to steal my fixed stuff. Bigger, faster, meaner. Real proud of himself.

So I set a trap.

Nothing fancy. Just a box with some paint cans, a spring, and a really badly balanced stool. He sat on it. Triggered the thing. Purple paint. Everywhere.

He cried.
I laughed.
Then fixed the stool, because it deserved better.

🧃 Life Between the Cracks

I’ve never lived in one place for long. I’ve had rooftop hideouts, alleyway tool sheds, boiler rooms in abandoned schools, and one time an old elevator shaft that I turned into a full workshop.

Most folks in the city don’t see goblins — they just see green blurs, odd smells, or a very clever fix that "somehow just happened." But if you do see me, and you’ve got something broken… well, we might talk.

Sometimes I fix things for coin. Sometimes for sandwiches.
Mostly, I do it because it bothers me when things are thrown away.

I’m not interested in working for fancy tech firms or joining some official repair crew. Too many rules. Too many clipboards. I work best in the shadows, in the cracks of the city, under the buzz of a broken streetlamp.

🧠 Why I Do It

People say I’m weird for loving broken things.

But here’s the thing:

Broken doesn’t mean useless.
Broken means unfinished.
And sometimes, the right hands can make it better than it was before.

Mine just happen to be small, green, and a little stained with engine grease.

[POLICE RADIO LOG — LIVE]

CITY PD — UNIT CHANNEL 3
All times local.
(Chatter comes fast, clipped; background sirens and city noise bleed through.)

14:02:41 — DISPATCH:
All units — we have a report from the Meridian Tower, rooftop terrace. Caller states a disturbance at a private event. Possible prank involving confetti and dye. Caller describes suspect as “small, green — like a goblin?” Units 12 and 5 respond. Keep it low-risk. Over.

14:03:07 — UNIT 12:
Unit 12 en route. 4-12 at Meridian Tower. Copy, Dispatch.

14:03:22 — UNIT 5:
Unit 5 responding. Advising heavy foot traffic downtown. Over.

14:04:03 — UNIT 12:
We’re on the terrace. Subject — affluent male — Mr. Carrington — covered in purple confetti and glitter, maybe dye on the cuffs. Victim is yelling about ruined cufflinks. Witnesses laughing. Reports of a small device under the welcome mat that released… something. No injuries. No weapons seen. Suspect last seen exiting service stairwell 3. Dispatch, requesting perimeter for stairwells. Over.

14:04:18 — DISPATCH:
Perimeter established. Units 7, 9, and 14 move to stairwells 1–5. K-9 to stand by. Air 1 available if needed. Over.

14:04:51 — UNIT 9:
Stairwell 3 clear. No sign. Cameras show door open then — nothing. Footage grainy. Somebody masked the feed for 4 seconds, like a glitch. Looks intentional. Over.

14:05:12 — UNIT 14:
Weeping camera by loading dock shows a small green blur — could be an animal. No, that’s… wrong. Scratch that. We have tracks — tiny shoe prints. They don’t match anything in the system. Over.

14:05:46 — UNIT 5:
Suspect appears to have set a secondary device at elevator bank two floors below — a harmless pneumatic whoopee cushion rig that popped and sent a flock of RoboRoom service drones into a tizzy. Drones scattered and caused momentary chaos in lobby. No injuries. Suspect is described as clever. Over.

14:06:09 — DISPATCH:
Pattern noted. Units move to rooftop service exits and alleys adjacent to Meridian. All units exercise caution — suspect may use unconventional egress. Over.

14:06:58 — UNIT 7:
We’ve got a lead. A street vendor reports seeing a small goblin-like person with a folding scooter head south on Pritchard Lane. Vendor says suspect had a satchel of springs and glitter. Vendor laughs when asked. Not helpful. Over.

14:07:24 — UNIT 12:
On-scene witness claim: suspect “talked to the doormat.” Quote: “You didn’t see that comin’, did ya?” Witness heard a high, mischievous giggle. This is— this is a prank, Dispatch. But deliberate. Over.

14:07:56 — AIR 1:
We're circling above Pritchard. Thermal reading shows a small heat signature inside a rooftop maintenance alcove at the corner of 8th and Pritchard. Looks like a person in there. Confirming visual. Over.

14:08:21 — UNIT 9:
Units converging on rooftop alcove. Approaching. Over.

14:08:47 — UNIT 9:
Rooftop alcove — clear. No person. A small workshop set up: soldering iron, mismatched tools, a neatly coiled length of copper wire. A single, cleanly folded piece of card sits on the bench with handwriting: “Fixed.” In bright spray paint: a tiny goblin grin. No sign of suspect. Over.

14:09:11 — UNIT 14:
Nearby CCTV shows subject entered behind a delivery truck at 14:06:12. Truck left at 14:06:15. Truck driver cooperative — says he didn’t see anyone. He did note the smell of lemon soap in the back for some reason. Over.

14:09:33 — DISPATCH:
We’re getting reports of similar incidents across the district — a bootlocker rigged to spill flower petals at a gallery, a subway turnstile that began playing street-circus whistles and ejecting free tokens. Pattern suggests same MO: non-lethal, theatrical, engineered. Suspect may be targeting wealthy or public spaces for spectacle. Proceed. Over.

14:10:02 — UNIT 12:
We got a phone call from Carrington’s head of security. He’s furious, wants arrests. Says this is humiliation with intent to harm reputation. No, he’s not hurt. He wants answers. We provided assurances. Over.

14:10:54 — UNIT 5:
We’re tracking a possible vehicle — a battered folding-scooter with modified cargo, last pinged near the underpass under the river. Sensor readings show metallic tinkering on the bridge rail. Looks like someone was there, working fast. Over.

14:11:30 — UNIT 7:
Canvassing nearby pawn shops and repair stands. One shopkeeper recognized the signature: “Ubzeenk Spliss” — local urban legend fixit-goblin. Says she always leaves a mark: a bent spring shaped like a smile. Keep eyes open. Over.

14:11:58 — DISPATCH:
All units, be on the lookout for a small goblin, green, wearing patched overalls and carrying a satchel. Last known heading south across the river via the footbridge. Over.

14:12:23 — UNIT 9:
We located a possible escape route. Maintenance crawlspace under the footbridge — access ladder with child-sized prints. Prints lead into the storm drain network. Over.

14:12:49 — UNIT 14:
Entering the drain network now. Watch the plumbing — low ceilings. We’re moving slow. Over.

14:13:16 — UNIT 5:
Drain readings show movement, but it's irregular — nothing like a person walking. More like... the sludge shifted on purpose. We're getting echoes of tiny mechanical clicks — like traps resetting. That’s a nice touch if you ask me. Over.

14:13:58 — AIR 1:
Thermals lose signature. Something’s masking heat. Tech team says EM dampening or... clever insulation. Over.

14:14:27 — UNIT 12:
We found a discarded gadget near the last junction: a small copper spring, one end crimped into a matchbox-sized device, the other end etched with a tiny grin. It's warm, humming faintly. Tech says it's a one-use glitter-dye disperser, remote-triggered. Evidence bagged. No prints. Over.

14:14:54 — DISPATCH:
Evidence secured. Continue sweep. Anyone with a personal vendetta against confetti — stand by. Over.

14:15:19 — UNIT 7:
We interviewed a child on the bridge. She says a “little green helper” told her not to worry and gave her a fixed yo-yo. Child delighted. No useful intel. Over.

14:15:42 — UNIT 5:
K-9 sweep negative. No obvious scent trails beyond the drains. The tech says the copper device had an oil slick that destroys scent. Strange. Over.

14:16:03 — UNIT 9:
We’re getting reports now that a dozen “fixed” items across town have shifted into better shape — a stuck park gate now swings freely, a broken bench leg mended with a neat welded patch, a red vending machine dispensing extra cans. Whoever this is, they leave gifts as well. Over.

14:16:48 — DISPATCH:
All units: suspect is evasive and nonviolent. Priority change — gather evidence, limit media exposure, avoid escalating public hysteria. For now, classify as Mischief with Engineering Expertise. Over.

14:17:33 — UNIT 12:
Standing by at Meridian Terrace. Victim insists on pressing charges. Advisory: no physical harm, community perceives stunt as harassment. Noted.

14:17:59 — UNIT 14:
Reviewing footage again. See anything odd? The exit door shows a shadow then nothing — like a seam in the world folded and closed. Tech can’t explain. Over.

14:18:21 — DISPATCH:
All units — final update for log: suspect Ubzeenk Spliss — presumed responsible for multiple non-harmful, engineered pranks and repairs. Suspect evaded capture. No injuries. Evidence collected indicates sophisticated small-scale mechanics and deliberate intent to avoid detection. No further leads at this time. Case open. If suspect resurfaces, do not engage alone. Tech units to analyze devices. Over and out.

[END LOG]

(Outside the radio’s static, somewhere in the city’s bones, a tiny folding scooter folds itself and tucks behind a dumpster. In a pocket of patched oilskin, a small creature hums, counting springs: one fixed gate, two mended bikes, three drones reprogrammed to perform little dances, and one very rich man who won’t look at his cufflinks the same way again.)

(On a scrap of paper, in bright chipped paint: “Fixed.”)

— NO CREDIBLE SIGHTINGS. NO IDEA HOW.

Alt character of this , if you want to play with one of my alts, just say it.