Some genuses have already benn well documented and given their names by people other than yours truly. This is duly indicated. And, of course, as could be expected, there are equally many examples of cross pollination, (for example, a Fenghoul or Spinkitt). Thre are also some people that defy categorisation as they are just too well rounded, the silly open minded twits!
Also, the female species is often identical to the male. Some females form their own genres (see Rock Chick). Young of the species, not grown to their full potential yet, are indicated by an additional k in their title eg Fenkal, Spinkle, Poukkle, Fankal...
Appearance: Longest hair of all the species, (longest species actually) often dark. Black clothing, possibly right down to socks. Often evil facial hair of goatee type. Occasional scary silver jewellery. Attached to raggedy old longsleeves which they will not let girlfriends chuck out, even when said article has become indecently holey. The more daring may wear mesh tops and eyeliner, and can occasionally be confused with goths. If unsure, ask them if they like Deicide.
Musical Taste:
Morbid Angel, Cannibal Corpse, Emperor, Cryptopsy, Immortal, Mayhem.
Tribal Leader(s):
Glen Benton (right)
Appearance: Shaggy, favours piercings, tattoos, often of a tribal nature. Has tangly hair and often tangly beard (if Fengal is a Machine Head, this may be plaited into strange fantastical shapes) Sports old metal TShirts (the more ragged and faded to the point of indecephirability, the more prestigious to other Fengals). Is most often happiest in baggy shorts about kneelength or army trousers, preferably camo. Likes old trainers, usually long suffering due to frequent exposure to pit situations
Musical Taste:
Pantera, Sepultura, Machine Head (will grumble about anything post The More Things Change)
Notes: Lost in '94, in the general direction of Donnington, these beasts are happiest when spotting another rare member of the tribe, comparing notes on how metal has gone downhill; slamming happily in a moshpit; drinking cider. State has to be grown into. They are inclined to look quite tough customers but author has a sneaking suspicion that most have extremely fluffy centres, like mint humbugs. They like to call a spade a spade, are generally rather cheerful creatures, and are not overly complicated. Often seem to be rather muddy.
They are inclined to be poetic, in a morose way. They are more likely to say the glass is half empty or that if you leave it on the corner of the table like that it will fall and break. However most have a dry sense of humour and are secretly, in their heart of hearts, fairly happy beings.
