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Mattie's Profile, Updated
Height: 3' 4"
Gijinka Height: 5' 2"
Zodiac Sign: Aries
Favorite color: Pink... or.. maybe Green?
Hidden Power type: Ground
Favorite Berry flavor: Spicy
Favorite Berry: Occa. Although Roseli berry comes second, she has only ever eaten one.
Favorite food: HER Potato soup.
Quote: "Dropping her's not part of the plan, Just likely!"
Personality: Mattie is quirky, to say the least. While she keeps a firm exterior when on a job or in combat, outside of those situations she is extremely impulsive, acts rather carefree, and just plain silly. She hates lulls in conversations.
Bio: When Mattie was little, she was physically and mentally abused by her mother, right under her father's nose. Although resulting from that gave her a multitude of skills she would find handy in the future. Her best friend was Takeshi the shelmet. She evolved with his help, and promptly ran away from home, since her family tradition said that she was now betrothed to Takesh
Height: 5' 5"
Gijinka Height: 6' 4"
Zodiac sign: Virgo
Favorite color: Purple
Hidden Power type: Poison
Quote: "My Masters Shall win, there is nothing you can do to stop them. you will die trying, thus helping my masters cause."
Personality: Kneph is often cool headed and won't even flinch at insults aimed at it. He is Knowlageable and trustworthy. He often would Prefer a good book about history then people, aside from Dusa that is, who he is in fact quite happy to serve.
Bio: Kneph started taking interest in history before he was even a ghost. He was a Spinda at the time, and always dropped whatever was doing. In fact, it was because of his interest in history that lead to his death, when he fell off a cliff when he wasn't looking where he was going. Reborn as a Duskull, He was much more careful. And when he evolved, he took interest in a certain myth. A myth from over 1,200 years ago about a Spiritomb... he was shocked to one day encounter t
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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