Welcome

Our old universe has
fallen into impossible chaos and destruction, but the Legendaries will save us; are saving us; have saved us. Soon many lives and memories will fill this new world, and give it purpose.

Events

Terrene continues to heat
up, both in temperature and in conflict. Beta is asking for spies to infiltrate Omega's camp, while Dentelle simply wants to inquire after the scientist's progress. Later in the season, Beta is hosting his annual crater city tournament, where people can test their Pokemon and their leadership and strategies against one another.

Season

Summer will be here until
September. The heat of summer is here in full force, as well as the accompanying summer thunderstorms. Bug, electric, and fire types all thrive while others wilt under these conditions.

Staff

Admins



Jani
Kaien


Moderators



Shasyu
Mod

C-Box

Keep it PG! | rules


Links


external cbox newbie guide pkmn rarity dmg table mod req the maps FAQ PP

Sisters


Pokemon: Terrene Pokemon: Terrene

Profile
Personal Photo

No Photo

Options
Custom Title
Rixie doesn't have a custom title currently.
Personal Info
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
Interests
Artemis lore:
6 dogs, 7 female dogs
4 (or some say 6) golden-horned deer
1 bear

60 Okeanids (a choir)
20 Amnisiades (handmaidens to tend her bow and hounds)
3 Nymphai Hyperboreiai (Oupis - aim, Loxo - trajectory, Hekaerge - distancing, presidents of the aspects of archery)
Other Information
Statistics
Joined: 24-April 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: 36 minutes ago
Local Time: Jul 17 2018, 05:33 PM
651 posts (1.5 per day)
( 5.13% of total forum posts )
Contact Information
AIM No Information
Yahoo No Information
GTalk No Information
MSN No Information
SKYPE No Information
Message: Click here
Email: Private

Rixie

Lore

Topics
Posts
Comments
Friends
My Content
Jul 6 2018, 11:07 AM
[dohtml]<link href="http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Oswald" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css">
<style type="text/css">
.simpapplication { width: 500px; padding: 15px; background-color: #1a1a1a; border: 1px solid #0e0e0e; font-family: arial; color: #ccc; line-height: 100%; font-size: 11px; text-align: justify; }
.simpappname { font-family: oswald; text-transform: uppercase; color: #ccc; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 30px; line-height: 100%; padding: 2px 0px; text-align: center; }
.simpappinfo { font-family: times; font-style: italic; color: #ccc; font-size: 12px; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 20px; }
.simpappsw { font-family: arial; color: #ccc; line-height: 100%; font-size: 11px; }
.simpappdesc { font-family: oswald; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 3px; font-size: 10px; text-align: center; box-shadow: 1px 1px 4px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.44) inset; color: #A5A5A5; background-color: #292929; padding: 5px; margin: 5px 0px; line-height: 100%; }
.tcred { text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; width: 460px; }
.tcred a {font-family: calibri; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 1px; }
</style>
<center>
<div class="simpapplication">

<img src="">

<div class="simpappname">Bug Catcher Aaron</div>
<p>

<div class="simpappinfo">42 - Male - Demisexual</div>

<div class="simpappdesc">TM Emitter Loaner of Ashfield City</div>
<p>
Aaron is short and skinny, with thinning blond-gray hair and green eyes. He is only about 4'10", and weighs slightly less than 90 pounds. He wears simple linen clothes during the summer, in an effort to keep cool, and thicker, wool clothes during the winter. He experimented briefly with dying his clothes green, as it is his favorite color, but he has largely given up, so most of his clothes are plain light brown or slightly stained in pale green.
<p>
An eccentric, if humble and simple, man, to say the least, this short man is known as “Bug Catcher Aaron”. He knows almost everything about various insectoid and Bug-Type Pokémon, and is an avid collector and breeder of these creatures. Expect him to be accompanied at all times by his trusty Butterfree or sitting on his prickly Scolipede mount, and expect him to be a little too close for comfort if given the opportunity.
<p>
He doesn’t fully understand personal space, and he never forgets a face (except for when he does). The more times he’s seen someone, the more likely he is to run up and greet them with an awkward, spindly hug.
<p>
He is willing to trade items instead of receiving tokens directly for his services, but only if they are supply packs, TMs themselves, Net Balls, Repeat Balls, Love Balls, or basic pokeballs.
<p>
His house is a little bit away from the main city, in the direction of Forest Beach Village. There are a lot of Pokemon that are "his", but he doesn't actually control them or bring them anywhere. Mostly, he just feeds them, gives them a place to stay, and observes them. His house and fenced in yard act as a sort of bug sanctuary, though most of them are able to come and go freely.
<p>
<hr>
<div class="simpappdesc">Can this NPC be used by anyone? yes</div>
<div class="simpappdesc">Can this NPC be changed/added to by anyone? pm me</div>


</div>
<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a></div>
</center>[/dohtml]
Jun 29 2018, 09:44 PM
[A continuation of Paul’s On The Grasshopper and Cricket, this thread takes place Summer 51.]

After being stuck in the dark forest for so long, it was a relief to finally see pure, unadulterated sunshine once again. Paul felt as though he were able to finally breathe again. The trees were nice, sure, but did there have to be quite that many? The stifling humidity and darkness crowded his mind and pressed down on his lungs until he felt as though he’d drown in all the demonic influence.

Lion’s Plains welcomed him with all the golden beauty that had been promised, that he deserved. The bright summer morning danced with the green and yellow grass. It was shaping up to be a warm day, as the day before had been.

Determined to make good progress today, Paul set off towards Crater City with a brisk pace and a dreamy smile gracing his features.
Jun 25 2018, 10:56 AM
“Say, kid, hold up there!” Paul stopped short, coming to an abrupt halt, but didn’t turn around yet. He looked down and knelt slightly, putting his hands on his knees and cocking his head towards the ground as though he were looking for something he dropped among the lush grass.

“Kid, over here!” He stood up straight and turned around, casually scanning the area until his eyes fell on the old man coming towards him quickly.

”Oh, good morning Luke,” Paul met his boss with a wide, pleasant smile.

“I didn’ startle ya, did I?” Luke looked at him, his tight lips and furrowed brow indicating his concern. Paul shook his haloed head wordlessly, and Luke continued, “A’right, good. Listen here, kid; I gotta job fer ya.”

Paul listened, and questioned, ”Of course you do. I work for you, right?” His face bore a slightly puzzled expression. ”I was just about to take the Mareep out to the pasture.”

The old man shook his head, “Nah I mean’ a diff’rent job. I’ll take over the Mareep fer today. I wan’ ya ta try yer hand at scarin’ out some o’ th’ pests that are up hidin’ ‘n th’ winter stores.” He pointed one bony finger toward the storage shed that held extra food for winter. “It’ll be good exercise fer yer Pokémon, too. Ya gotta train ‘em up if ya wanna be able to protect yerself, ya hear me?”

Paul nodded, barely hiding a reluctant grimace. He hated the shed and barn, and tried to avoid them. They were dusty, rickety, and definitely not beautiful or elegant. He turned away from the beautiful, inviting, waving cloth that was the lush, green prairie and inspected the apparent death trap that he was supposed to be clearing out. With a sinking, drowning feeling, he trudged to the wooden shack. Now he was stuck with the task of chasing the vermin out.

319
Jun 20 2018, 05:14 AM
[dohtml]<style type="text/css">

.jcink {
position: relative;
height: 750px;
Width: 639px;
background:;
border: 7px solid #910400;
background: #043F5C;
}

.cynthia {
display: block;
position: absolute;
left: 255px;
width: 330px;
height: 696px;
background: #043F5C;
color: #FFEEB3;
padding: 20px;
line-height: 100%;
border: 7px solid #E6C144;
overflow: auto;
text-align: left;
}

.cynthiai {
display: block;
background: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0) url("https://picload.org/image/dadiawll/meleteandhyacinth.jpg");jpghttps
bottom: 0;
height: 750px;
width: 255px;
Position: absolute;
}

.cynthian {
display: block;
position: absolute;
width: 338px;
height: 36px;
background: #5994B1;
padding: 5px;
border: 1px solid #C09915;

overflow: auto;
top: 623px;
left: 268px;
color: #012333;
}

.cynthiat {
display: block;
position: absolute;
width: 338px;
height: 20px;
top: 675px;
left: 268px;
background: #5994B1;
border: 1px solid #C09915;
padding: 5px;
overflow: auto;
text-align: center;
color: #012333;
}

.cynthiaw {
display: block;
position: absolute;
width: 338px;
height: 20px;
top: 710px;
left: 268px;
background: #5994B1;
border: 1px solid #C09915;
padding: 5px;
overflow: auto;
text-align: center;
color: #012333;
}

.block {
display: block;
width: 342px;
height: 127px;
background: #043F5C;
position: absolute;
top: 616px;
left: 278px;

}

.cynthia::-webkit-scrollbar {width: 6px;background: #012333;}
.cynthia::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb {background: #910400;}
.cynthia::-webkit-scrollbar-corner {background: #E7C140;}

</style>

<div class="jcink">
<div class="cynthiai"></div>
<div class="cynthia"><div style="height: 250px; overflow:; padding-right: 3px;">
<center><b><font size="5">Dancing Wildflower</font></b></center>
<p><p>”Back sometime tonight! Or tomorrow morning if I’m lucky and I play my cards right,” Paul grinned confidently as he strode out of the house he shared with Andrew and the small zoo of Pokémon. He had a different job to do today, and this one involved a young woman, unlike his usual job of guiding sheep around the plains and talking to gruff old men.
<p>
He couldn’t help but float into the dreamy fantasies and possibilities. She sounded like a gentle, beautiful soul, probably suntanned and lithely muscled from hard work under the plains’ bright, warm rays.
<p>
Paul heard about the opportunity when he went up to post some wanted ads in the marketplace, and he seized it faster than a Mareep could shake its tail. A young damsel in distress was practically what he lived for. And though fending wild Pokémon off from a hen house wasn’t exactly the most gallant act he could think of, it was probably all his Pokémon could handle st the moment. A severe limitation that he would have to rectify when he was able to. And had the motivation to. Hiring a peace officer’s assistance had helped, and he sometimes considered trying to ask someone else, someone even better with Pokémon, for more tutelage. Alas it was simply too expensive for Paul’s meager earnings.
<p>
He crossed through the busy Crater City streets. Even though it was hot, and the crowds were dulled and quiet, there was no time for a true break. Merchants had to count their earnings from the morning and rearrange their goods in preparation for the evening rush of customers. Perhaps the rush would include the woman who was asking for volunteers to watch her farm. He found his way out of the dusty clamor of the houses with people and Pokémon bustling about, reaching the exit of the great walls that he had watched being built.
<p>
The summer sunshine was hot, as it was already past its zenith. His heavy jacket came off within a mere minute, baring alabaster skin and thick muscles that rippled and bulged with every movement. The feeling of the sun burning his skin brought him a strange kind of pleasure, a fiery joy that satisfied.
<p>
Dust kicked up and choked under his shoes as he confidently swaggered along the road, giving a cheery grin to any and all who passed by. Some pulled away, shy, though others grinned back and reciprocated his hot, beaming attention that rivaled the sun in its scorching intensity. After several minutes of walking along the southbound road that he had traveled up nearly a year ago, he stopped and shaded his eyes with one hand to look out across the lush, drying grasses. Offended, the sun blazed hotter and thundered down muttered, indiscernible curses that rang in Paul’s ears, and Paul hastily scanned the horizon until he saw the little house with a cluster of coops and a small orchard of berries. It wasn’t that different from many of the other farms on the outskirts of Crater City, the rural sprawl that spread like a ripples outwards from a stone dropped in a pond, but the placement and number convinced Paul that that was where he should go. He lowered his hand and quickly moved to the unpaved, barely-visible trail where many feet and some carts had forced a bare spot into the grass. The sun, pleased at his decision to no longer hide his handsome face from him, relaxed his blazing, glorious fury. He returned to a friendly, if still intensely burning, shine.
<p>
After following the trail, and resolutely ignoring the various small farms he passed by that did not belong to the beautiful bird-keeper, he at last found his way to the small bird ranch. And who else but the beautiful bird-keeper herself was there to greet him?
<p>
She was all he imagined and more, a wildflower grown up tall and bright in the sweet smelling, dry grasslands all around them. Her beauty was rough and unrefined, not a luscious, pampered rose but a tough, ragged flower that had earned every millimeter of petal and leaf that she sported. Her speckled skin bespoke many hours of work beneath the sun, his brother, and he could only envy the sun for getting to touch and kiss that skin so passionately. Her fairly short hair and slim waist spoke of a body that moved and bent and did not want to be kept from moving. Her brand was, as always, an ugly mark of imperfection, but Paul was learning to ignore them, since more than half the people of Crater City seemed to have them.
<p>
”Are you the lovely woman seeking someone to watch your birds this afternoon and evening? I’m Paul, and I’d like to help you.” Paul smiled as he walked over to her, trying to quell some of the excitement that rose within him.
<p>
She nodded, slightly confused but ignoring his compliment, ”Yes. My name is Moist. I’ll be back sometime tonight, probably a bit late. So... Goodbye for now.” Her attitude was as pragmatic and to-the-point as her body suggested, and Paul pressed hard to find a reason for her to stay in his presence just a little longer. His eyes lit upon a bracelet tight around her delicate wrist.
<p>
”Did you make this yourself? What beautiful, delicate work! Your hands must possess such dexterity and gentleness to create something as lovely as the hands that wrought it,” he purred as he reached out and took her hand, examining the bracelet closely before planting a kiss on her knuckles.
<p>
"Ah. Thank you... sir." She paused instead of saying his name, promptly replacing it with a dispersonal "sir". She took her hand away. It was as though someone had sent him a letter but failed to properly fill it out, leaving a large blank spot where his name ought to go. As though his name, and in turn, his very existence, had been erased. She acknowledged him but refused to say his name. Was he just a ghost? Was he a collection of disembodied voices and memories, all crammed into one nameless being?
<p>
"But my name is Paul," he insisted, a lump forming in his throat.
<p>
”I- What? Oh, right. Paul. Um... Okay, sir- I mean! Paul.” She was clearly unhappy, and she turned downcast eyes away from the needy man to pluck uncertainly at her hair which fell just below her cheeks.
<p>
Paul fretted, his face contorted into a concerned, hurt expression. He looked away from her dramatically, turning his entire head as far as it would go comfortably, and finally spoke, ”Very well. Just go. Go and remember that my name is Paul, and I will be waiting with your intact flocks at the evening’s end.”
<p>
The woman looked confused as she tried to catch Paul’s eye, but he refused to turn back towards her, so she stood awkwardly for a few moments. Unsure of what else to do, she mumbled an apology and then swayed off, a dancing wildflower scattered to the air and heading swiftly for distant lands. But she would be back. Paul believed that much.
<p>
<br>.
<br>.
<br>.
<br>.
<br>.<br>.
<br>.
<br>.
<br>.
<br>.

</div></div>
<div class="block">

</div>
<div class="cynthian">
Notes: None

</div>
<div class="cynthiat">
Tag: @Person
</div>
<div class="cynthiaw">
Word Count: 1192 words

</div>

</div>
</div>
[/dohtml]
Jun 20 2018, 03:07 AM
OoC:
Paul is seeking specific Pokémon, many of which are Endangered. The list:
- Lapras
- Natu/Xatu
- Ralts/Kirlia/Gardevoir/Gallade
- Chingling/Chimecho (actually Rare, not Endangered!)

Base price:
- fair trade price of the pokeball used to catch/house the Pokémon (or an actual pokeball, whichever you prefer/he has on hand)
- 1000 tokens — More tokens will be considered, but probably not more than 1,250
-- or 750 tokens for Chimecho — More tokens will be considered, but probably not more than 1,000

In the (admittedly likely) event that Paul doesn’t have that many tokens at the time, I will either offer an IOU or you can hold onto the Pokémon until Paul has accrued that much money, and then do the trade.

—————————————————————

Paul clutched the neat, carefully created flyer, unwilling, for the life of him, to give it up. But what purpose would a poster serve if it wasn’t even posted for the world to see? He made several copies, so it wasn’t like he was getting rid of ALL of his hard work. Even if this poster got covered up or lost to the wind or rain, he had more tucked safely away at home.

He sighed and gazed sadly at the poster again before steeling his resolve. His jaw clenched and he lifted the poster up to the advertising board on the edge of Crater City’s marketplace, finding a nice place for it just a quarter of the way from the left edge.

On the flyer, he explained his request in both text and pictures, for those who were unable to read. Detailed, lovingly-rendered drawings of the Pokémon that he was asking for accompanied their names, and ten painstakingly, perfectly drawn stacks of a hundred tokens each rested above the large number written: “1,000 tokens”. One of the Pokémon, a Chingling, with a Chimecho placed just beside it in a smaller, parenthetical box, was placed across from a slightly smaller group of tokens, labeled as “750 tokens”. A few elegant arrows pointed out which way the trade was going, to Paul’s name and an uncannily accurate self portrait, and to the word “You” and an outline of a generic head with a question mark for a face.

When the poster was safely secured with four sharp stone pebbles pressed into the holes of the board, Paul stood back to admire his handwork before quickly running off.
Last Visitors


35 minutes ago




Jul 15 2018, 11:56 PM




Jul 13 2018, 02:03 PM



Comments
No comments posted.
Add Comment

Affiliates
Resources & Directories
RPG-D Distant Fantasies Pokemon: Terrene Pokemon: Terrene Pokemon: Terrene Pokemon: Terrene Pokemon: Terrene Pokemon: Terrene Pokemon: Terrene
Static
FF:Adventu Pokemon Anrui Living the Dream: a Pokemon RPG PLEDGE -- a pokémon roleplay kalopsia - a pmd rp Pokefalls
skin by bonbon.