[Varon takes out his pocket device and jams a few buttons before he looks at the screen. Blue eyes that seem a lot bigger than they should definitely gives him the appearance of a child but that's not the case. He clears his throat before he speaks. His heavy Australian accent is thick but not impossible to understand.]
Oy! Name's Varon. Just got off the boat not too long ago. Found myself something neat too. Anyway, heard this place is a ripper. Got any stories?
Ah, guess I should tell you fine folks mine.
[He pauses for a moment and grins.]
Nah, I'll save that for the Q and A. Late.
[He smirks and waits.]
[Prose]
A yellow Kawasaki Intruder stopped in front of the school. The plain blue helmet, rider's mask and goggles hid the face of a young man of 16 wearing a red and black rider's jacket, black study jeans with the legs tucked in boots that had straps instead of laces that matched the jacket. Hands covered in black gloves held the handle bars until he turned off the engine. He rubbed his wrist to make sure that his spacial displacement device he stole that contained his armor was still in place. Satisfied, he removed his hand.
Equipped with only a backpack and a bed roll with a collapsible fishing pole and hunting knife, this was a guy that was used to surviving in the wilderness. He straightened himself up and looked up at the school.
"Huh. So, this is the place. Nice digs but a bit too quiet. I think I'll get bored here." His voice sounded muffled behind the mask but the tone depicted near disgust. His eyes showed a lack of interest.
He pulled the keys from the ignition from the handlebars and removed himself from the bike. He activated the kill switch and alarm before he made his way up the stairs. "Hope they got a drum set and a gym or this place'll got to shit real fast." He mused to himself with disinterest.
Having been independent for a year, being away from his band and his girlfriend didn't help his spirits much. Coming from a family of racers and travelers, he lost contact with them months ago after the fires that tore him from his home, he had little options left.
Once he opened the door and took a look around, he removed his helmet, raised his goggles and lowered his mask. "Huh, I know I'll be bored." Heavy boots stepped onto the new hardwood floor that was evidently recent in replacement. Then the smirk appeared. "Or maybe not."
"Oy, anyone home?" He yelled out. Screw making calls. The voice was more effective.
Varon ♦ Yu-Gi-Oh!
[Varon takes out his pocket device and jams a few buttons before he looks at the screen. Blue eyes that seem a lot bigger than they should definitely gives him the appearance of a child but that's not the case. He clears his throat before he speaks. His heavy Australian accent is thick but not impossible to understand.]
Oy! Name's Varon. Just got off the boat not too long ago. Found myself something neat too. Anyway, heard this place is a ripper. Got any stories?
Ah, guess I should tell you fine folks mine.
[He pauses for a moment and grins.]
Nah, I'll save that for the Q and A. Late.
[He smirks and waits.]
[Prose]
A yellow Kawasaki Intruder stopped in front of the school. The plain blue helmet, rider's mask and goggles hid the face of a young man of 16 wearing a red and black rider's jacket, black study jeans with the legs tucked in boots that had straps instead of laces that matched the jacket. Hands covered in black gloves held the handle bars until he turned off the engine. He rubbed his wrist to make sure that his spacial displacement device he stole that contained his armor was still in place. Satisfied, he removed his hand.
Equipped with only a backpack and a bed roll with a collapsible fishing pole and hunting knife, this was a guy that was used to surviving in the wilderness. He straightened himself up and looked up at the school.
"Huh. So, this is the place. Nice digs but a bit too quiet. I think I'll get bored here." His voice sounded muffled behind the mask but the tone depicted near disgust. His eyes showed a lack of interest.
He pulled the keys from the ignition from the handlebars and removed himself from the bike. He activated the kill switch and alarm before he made his way up the stairs. "Hope they got a drum set and a gym or this place'll got to shit real fast." He mused to himself with disinterest.
Having been independent for a year, being away from his band and his girlfriend didn't help his spirits much. Coming from a family of racers and travelers, he lost contact with them months ago after the fires that tore him from his home, he had little options left.
Once he opened the door and took a look around, he removed his helmet, raised his goggles and lowered his mask. "Huh, I know I'll be bored." Heavy boots stepped onto the new hardwood floor that was evidently recent in replacement. Then the smirk appeared. "Or maybe not."
"Oy, anyone home?" He yelled out. Screw making calls. The voice was more effective.