Nikki's Beauties | Plot Page
Oct 17, 2014 20:02:15 GMT -6
Post by Nix Veritas on Oct 17, 2014 20:02:15 GMT -6
[attr="class","bbw"]  NIKKI'S PLOTTERS | [attr="class","bbw"] [attr="class","beab"]Once a wanderer across a multitude of places around the regions, this red head beauty is more than a pretty face. A woman with a thing for fire types, she is not the kind to back down once threatened or yelled at, for the best of intentions or not. Taking into account she's only an officer of team magma, you can actually see in her that burning desire that most of those on magma are inteded to share. As such she has an incredible fascination for fire and ground types and will rarely stray away from them NIX VERITAS TEAM MAGMA OFFICER THE FLAMING HOTHEAD |
[attr="class","bbw"]  [attr="class","beab"]Eldest out of twins, Sonata was a girl who joined Galactic out of want to be near her brother. While this was a thing that she hated at first, aiming towards just wanting to sing it was when she saw her brother take the blame for something she did that her own visual outlook and perspective on life changed drastically. Sweetness and kindness gave room to someone a bit more grim dark that only cared about herself. Separated from the one she cared about, for three years she's become rather known as the one who can tear your ear drums out if she happens to just be simply bored. Be wary however, weather you threaten her or her brother, the consequences will be dire. SONATA VIVALDI STEELE TEAM GALACTIC ELITE JUPITER | [attr="class","bbw"]  [attr="class","beab"]Not far from the house sat a great wooden raven mounted on a rather low pole; his wings were flattened to his sides. A few feet from him stuck up an empty pole. His mate had sat there but she had rotted away long ago, leaving him moss-grown, dilapidated and alone to watch dead Indian bones, for these two great birds had been set, one on either side of the doorway of a big house that had been full of dead Indians who had died during a smallpox epidemic. Bursting growth had hidden house and bones long ago. Rain turned their dust into mud; these strong young trees were richer perhaps for that Indian dust. They grew up round the dilapidated old raven, sheltering him from the tearing winds now that he was old and rotting because the rain seeped through the moss that grew upon his back and in the hollows of his eye-sockets. The Cumshewa totem poles were dark and colourless, the wood toneless from pouring rain. LOREM IPSUM A LINE OF STUFF A LINE OF MORE STUFF |
[attr="class","bbw"] [attr="class","beab"]Not far from the house sat a great wooden raven mounted on a rather low pole; his wings were flattened to his sides. A few feet from him stuck up an empty pole. His mate had sat there but she had rotted away long ago, leaving him moss-grown, dilapidated and alone to watch dead Indian bones, for these two great birds had been set, one on either side of the doorway of a big house that had been full of dead Indians who had died during a smallpox epidemic. Bursting growth had hidden house and bones long ago. Rain turned their dust into mud; these strong young trees were richer perhaps for that Indian dust. They grew up round the dilapidated old raven, sheltering him from the tearing winds now that he was old and rotting because the rain seeped through the moss that grew upon his back and in the hollows of his eye-sockets. The Cumshewa totem poles were dark and colourless, the wood toneless from pouring rain. LOREM IPSUM A LINE OF STUFF A LINE OF MORE STUFF | [attr="class","bbw"] [attr="class","beab"]Not far from the house sat a great wooden raven mounted on a rather low pole; his wings were flattened to his sides. A few feet from him stuck up an empty pole. His mate had sat there but she had rotted away long ago, leaving him moss-grown, dilapidated and alone to watch dead Indian bones, for these two great birds had been set, one on either side of the doorway of a big house that had been full of dead Indians who had died during a smallpox epidemic. Bursting growth had hidden house and bones long ago. Rain turned their dust into mud; these strong young trees were richer perhaps for that Indian dust. They grew up round the dilapidated old raven, sheltering him from the tearing winds now that he was old and rotting because the rain seeped through the moss that grew upon his back and in the hollows of his eye-sockets. The Cumshewa totem poles were dark and colourless, the wood toneless from pouring rain. LOREM IPSUM A LINE OF STUFF A LINE OF MORE STUFF |
LAIKA OF GS!
