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HollyMcKnight

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Tetsuo: Wait, what the heck is *He then suddenly sees something black behind Faith...and he realises what these are* O.M.G. Who r u, Maximum Ride? (OoC: Bad reference. Sorry)

 

*He then realises that this might not even be any of his business, and so tried to act cool and casual*

 

Tetsuo: Anyway, my names Tetsuo, and again why are you holding a black feather up at Mariah?

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Darsagu Replies "The Black Feather Creates a Black Gust of Wind, If you were caught in the Gust, you would be blinded by the Bits of the Feather Covering your eyes, these Bits are very hard to remove"

 

(> HOW IN THE 10 F*CKING HELLS OF THE F*CKING END AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU WERE OFFLINE!!!!!!!??????? <)

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Name: Brandon Frygastun

Apperance:

l_de4b4df3874f4479fd1518d4d3b2ad84.png?t=1238539352

Classes: Geometry, English 10, Phy. Ed., Drawing, Digital Art, Physics

Friends: All the nerds or people with no life.

Personality: Half nerd, half metalhead. He seems to have a knack for drawing, and every moment he has to spare he daydreams. His social life sucks unless someone starts the conversation. Otherwise, his blood freezes with embarrasment, and he is also nervous each time he is going to meet someone new. He doesn't fall for girls with good looks anymore. In fact, he protests good looks because he finds it overrated to be attracted to such a scam.

Bio: During his childhood, he was very social and enthusiastic, but during 5th grade, he was rejected severly and his life was changed. He now listens to heavy metal because he hates his life. His social life went down the tubes, and has now refused to get a girlfriend in his life. He is now friends with nerds and enjoys video games based on Anime/Manga and thrives for blood and gore.

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OOC: Cool. And I don't know if you know this, but it's spelled "accepted" not "accecpted". Get rid of that extra "c" (Yes, I mean the title, too.) ^_^

 

Brandon walked to school; carrying his red, gray, and black backpack which was packed with so much weight. All of his new school supplies were in there, including all his binders, folders, and art supplies. He also packed a bunch of sketchbooks to draw on during class along with a caseload of pencils that were already sharpened. In his external pockets lay his DSi in which he'd play during lunch when he was done eating, a grape soda for his lunch, and a few bags of sweets to stuff into his pocket to snack on.

 

It was his first day of school, so he was nervous. New people to meet, new goals to accomplish, a new life. He shook trying to think of all the outcomes. What if his fifth grade horror came back as a spector to haunt him? What if he's not accepted for who he is? Will he make plenty of new friends? He didn't know, nor did he care. He just kept walking listening to his Juke, fantasying his music with an imaginary headbang and picturing of him playing the song in a music video.

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