Heya Batoto! This is Hawk's Eye, or Trouble, or Missy, or Mischief as you may or may not know me. Just wondering if there are any other folks interested in battles/trading/whatever for the current generation of Pokémon!
If you need starters from any generation, I have em'! And I'm more than willing to trade them to you for now! Like Bidoofs, or whatever.
I also breed/battle competitively, with over 1,300 eggs hatched, and over 1,400 super training sessions c! If you're looking for a tough competitor in 1v1 6 mons, I'm your gal!
Me, according to a Hero:
Spoiler
Now at last we come full circle, back to the hand whose graceful motions first began these tales. Our travels have taken us through town and tower, past glade and garden, through the mists of time and to all manner of locale, but we come to their end in the modern era. Specifically, we come to a loft apartment overlooking the Champs d'Elysees in Paris, France, wherein resides Trouble herself. Some would call her temptress, others know her as charming minx, but nobody dares deny that the lady is possessed of great beauty. As she sits at her writing desk with a fine tipped pen and ink well at hand, a city breeze enters through the nearby open window. The wind causes her raven-colored hair to stir briefly in it before resuming its cascades down to her shoulders, where it briefly touches the angled straps of the midnight blue dress that adorns her well-defined form. With a gentle sip from the thin-mouthed glass of champagne that accompanies her forays onto the pages, she turns her brilliant emerald eyes back to the swirling words she has already put into place. Before she continues on, she checks over her work to ensure that no detail is left unknown, no letter out of its place. For in her passages, as in the mystic runes with which she channels the primordial forces of the world, each stroke is vital and no variance is tolerated. Content with what she has written, the sorceress lays down her writing instrument and makes her way to the balcony. With a breath of the evening air and a wave of her hand, the only decision that remains is what spells she shall weave this night.
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