Nova
Here's to alcohol,
Did someone say CHAOS?!
Nova bursts into the party, giggling and spinning on her heels to watch the firework explode behind her in a destructive display of color, her blonde hair strewn about like she might have been the one combusting. A few more are still clutched in her fingers, waiting patiently for her flames to strike again, igniting them into the redish glow of moonlight, but she pauses to admire her work: reds, pinks, blues, purples, and yellows breaking apart in a chain reaction that sings the beating song of chaos.
Slowing only long enough to snag at a chilled glass of something bright, Nova bounces through the crowd. Her rain jacket is white and pearlescent, practically a disco ball amongst the dark. The light catches on the stars sprinkled across her cheeks where they've fallen from the galaxies in her eyes. Ice trails behind her like starlight, glittering in a moment of frost before sinking into the mud.
A beaming grin spreads across her face, taking in the sights and opportunity for experiences. Like, what's an 'orgy?' Is it fun? What happens if she jumps in the bonfire? Does she have to give blood? Is Dygra going to show up?
Whatever happens, Nova is ready, and she twirls through the party, embracing everything the night has to offer.
Nova bursts into the party, giggling and spinning on her heels to watch the firework explode behind her in a destructive display of color, her blonde hair strewn about like she might have been the one combusting. A few more are still clutched in her fingers, waiting patiently for her flames to strike again, igniting them into the redish glow of moonlight, but she pauses to admire her work: reds, pinks, blues, purples, and yellows breaking apart in a chain reaction that sings the beating song of chaos.
Slowing only long enough to snag at a chilled glass of something bright, Nova bounces through the crowd. Her rain jacket is white and pearlescent, practically a disco ball amongst the dark. The light catches on the stars sprinkled across her cheeks where they've fallen from the galaxies in her eyes. Ice trails behind her like starlight, glittering in a moment of frost before sinking into the mud.
A beaming grin spreads across her face, taking in the sights and opportunity for experiences. Like, what's an 'orgy?' Is it fun? What happens if she jumps in the bonfire? Does she have to give blood? Is Dygra going to show up?
Whatever happens, Nova is ready, and she twirls through the party, embracing everything the night has to offer.
the rose-colored glasses of life.
