Io's family used to have a beautiful rose garden where the little ten year old girl would spend every afternoon. No one ever noticed she was more interested in the thorns than in the bright red petals or the delicate fragrance. Io's fixation with the sharp and pointy continued during her rise to adolescence and indirectly caused her to fall in the hands of a particularly nasty nightdweller. Io was "evolved" to a vampwolf that day, yet instead of cursing the lost of her humanity, she gladly welcomed it as a means to fulfill her dream: to travel the world in search of the rarest, most powerful blades in existence.

It's funny even to herself the fact that she's now in the company of two losers that intend to "save the planet" or something, but she will gladly deal with treehuggers and worse if it leads her to the precious, shiny, edgy objects of her obssession. She has no means to know that in the land of Irratica, the pen is indeed stronger than the sword. ;/

For my current project, Dawn of Irratica
Io © me ;/
P.S.: Couldn't settle for one pose so I just posted em all You can pretend she's doing some sort of split-image attack, alright? Alright.