Post by Callion on Dec 9, 2016 20:06:57 GMT
A buzz of excitement seemed to fill Satan City today. A strange sense of euphoria could be felt throughout the sprawling metropolis and its citizens. Most everyone seemed to beam with joy as they walked along the sidewalk, the bright morning sun shining happily in the clear blue sky. All except one.
Callion, the Saiyan with no pride, did not smile as he walked on the sidewalk. Instead, his head moved around in curiosity, studying all of the smiling faces, and wondering why everyone seemed so elated. His black rimmed glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and were quickly pushed back up by the young warrior's right hand. His usually spiky hair was flat against his head with a sort of sheen to it thanks to the copious amounts of gel he used on it. His sleeveless black gi and matching black pants were cleanly pressed and free of any creases or dirty marks, just like his short sleeved red undershirt. On both of his wrists were some form of black wristbands, that upon closer inspection seemed to be made of some mixture of plastic and metal. His red boots and black bootstrings thudded against the ground with each step he took. His four-foot blade was sheathed in its red sheath on his back. His black gym bag bulged a bit from the copious contents inside, as it swung from the young warrior's right shoulder.
Callion continued to look around, unsure of why everyone was so happy.
Callion, the Saiyan with no pride, did not smile as he walked on the sidewalk. Instead, his head moved around in curiosity, studying all of the smiling faces, and wondering why everyone seemed so elated. His black rimmed glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and were quickly pushed back up by the young warrior's right hand. His usually spiky hair was flat against his head with a sort of sheen to it thanks to the copious amounts of gel he used on it. His sleeveless black gi and matching black pants were cleanly pressed and free of any creases or dirty marks, just like his short sleeved red undershirt. On both of his wrists were some form of black wristbands, that upon closer inspection seemed to be made of some mixture of plastic and metal. His red boots and black bootstrings thudded against the ground with each step he took. His four-foot blade was sheathed in its red sheath on his back. His black gym bag bulged a bit from the copious contents inside, as it swung from the young warrior's right shoulder.
Callion continued to look around, unsure of why everyone was so happy.
(Weighted PL[HW]: 9,048)
[Tags:Pocky ]
[Tags:Pocky ]
