Lame título is lame~
2nd November 2120, 11.35 am
It's going to be the 100th anniversary since the countries combined to make one big country, UNITY, with 4 main states; NorthStar, SouthCity, EastCavern and WestSide. 100 since Dictator fused them together and used a rayo, ray gun to slow his aging. On himself. Sixteen years of my life had been under the same roof of that drunk who was my father. Two years, one week, 3 hours and 5 minutos I had been serving Dictator. The one who caused us this pain of living. There was snow almost all año round. It was his fault.
Manfredi suggested after I escaped that I should write más about myself. Well, if he insist...
Skipper Peirres. I was born on 3rd March 2104, 4.5o pm at SouthCity. My mother died when I was 6 and when I turned 14, the legal age here, I was sent to the army. There I met Manfredi(boy) and Johnson(a girl. I know. HOW?) and they took me in. They are great parents. Wink, wink. I thankfully escapedthe four-year imprisoment por wearing a NorthStar uniform and running out. My luck. One of my friends told me I could stay at his place after I escaped. He left a año after I got in. Well, seems that my stop's here. Till siguiente time,
Skipper.
Closing the notebook, Skipper stepped off the bus and onto the snow covered ground. Under the snow was grass, brown and unliving after so many years of no sunlight. Skipper turned away from innocent children play in the snow, knowing that that innocence will disappear soon.
He took a left turn into an alley and saw;
A navidad shop.
Skipper frowned, he expected more, especially from a 'mad' scientist, who(and he once chuckled) ran a centre for the wounded. He shook his head and walked in. He looked at the small script of paper that held Kowalski's handwriting.
When tu reach Avenue 5, take a left turn. Keep walking and my place is there.
~Kowalski
'He'd better not lie,' he thought as he crumpled the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. He pulled his hoodie over and walked straight.
Just then, a pair of baby blue eyes opened. He held a walkie-talkie to his mouth. "Security breached. I repeat, SECURITY BREACHED."
Skipper opened the door with ease and looked around the dusty shop. The song Jinggle bells playing softly in the background. “Well,” he said, picking up a Santa display, “This was unex…pec…ted…?” he walked over to a bolted door in the back. ‘Unlocked?’ he thought before pushing it open to find a metal tunnel.
“Hello?” The voice echoed a little. He shrugged and kept walking. Hearing footsteps, he turned to find the source. No one. He sighed and turned around. Big mistake.
Skipper felt his back slam into the metal, a drill pointed in front of his face. The male in front had red-brown hair, red overtaking the brown, black chaqueta (It’s capucha, campana lined with fur) with a black tank parte superior, arriba under.
“Wer bist du?! Was ist Ihr Ziel?!” German. Thankfully, Skipper knew some.
“I-ich bin hier, um Kowalski zu sehen!” he answered over the noise of the drill.
“LÜGEN!” The drill came closer and closer and-
“Rico, stop that. He is a friend.” Kowalski’s voice broke through.
Rico retracted the drill into his hand, which Skipper realised was attached to it, and looked at Kowalski. “Adskaba ghaba defa?!(Who is this?!)” Rico pointed at Skipper. “Hey, I forgot okay? Look, I'm sorry, this is Skipper. Skipper, this is Rico.” The taller crossed his arm and coughed. “Oh yeah, he’s older than me,” The sudden rush of footsteps echoed loudly as another boy, a blonde, landed beside Kowalski and brought up a gun. “K’walski! He’s the breacher! The one with blue hair like Blowhole!” “Private, it’s my friend, Skipper,” Private lowered the gun and it turned back into a hand. Private extended it. “’Ello, the name’s Pri’ate.” The brittish accent was cute, Skipper had to agree. He shook it and realised how cold it was. Metal, he realised. Artificial limbs. “Kowalski, did you…?” “No, I did not experiment on them, they asked me to do it to them,” he raised his own arm and admired the black and neon green metal. “They, WE, want and will fight.” He placed it por his side. “So, Skipper, I’ll take tu to the REAL centre.” Kowalski smirked and walked ahead. The other three followed but not before Rico activated his drill and placed it near Skipper’s neck.
“Rico, no!” Rico withdrew and walked beside Skipper, whispering.
A/N: I need OCs please. About… 5-7 maybe? More? I dunno…
GERMAN TRANSLATION(Thank you, Google. I’m sorry if the real Eng-German translation is wrong.):
1: Who are you?! What is your purpose?!
2: I-I am here to see Kowalski!
3: LIES!
Bye-bye. Teehee. HERP DER-*shot*
Also, tell me how to improve~! 8D
2nd November 2120, 11.35 am
It's going to be the 100th anniversary since the countries combined to make one big country, UNITY, with 4 main states; NorthStar, SouthCity, EastCavern and WestSide. 100 since Dictator fused them together and used a rayo, ray gun to slow his aging. On himself. Sixteen years of my life had been under the same roof of that drunk who was my father. Two years, one week, 3 hours and 5 minutos I had been serving Dictator. The one who caused us this pain of living. There was snow almost all año round. It was his fault.
Manfredi suggested after I escaped that I should write más about myself. Well, if he insist...
Skipper Peirres. I was born on 3rd March 2104, 4.5o pm at SouthCity. My mother died when I was 6 and when I turned 14, the legal age here, I was sent to the army. There I met Manfredi(boy) and Johnson(a girl. I know. HOW?) and they took me in. They are great parents. Wink, wink. I thankfully escapedthe four-year imprisoment por wearing a NorthStar uniform and running out. My luck. One of my friends told me I could stay at his place after I escaped. He left a año after I got in. Well, seems that my stop's here. Till siguiente time,
Skipper.
Closing the notebook, Skipper stepped off the bus and onto the snow covered ground. Under the snow was grass, brown and unliving after so many years of no sunlight. Skipper turned away from innocent children play in the snow, knowing that that innocence will disappear soon.
He took a left turn into an alley and saw;
A navidad shop.
Skipper frowned, he expected more, especially from a 'mad' scientist, who(and he once chuckled) ran a centre for the wounded. He shook his head and walked in. He looked at the small script of paper that held Kowalski's handwriting.
When tu reach Avenue 5, take a left turn. Keep walking and my place is there.
~Kowalski
'He'd better not lie,' he thought as he crumpled the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. He pulled his hoodie over and walked straight.
Just then, a pair of baby blue eyes opened. He held a walkie-talkie to his mouth. "Security breached. I repeat, SECURITY BREACHED."
Skipper opened the door with ease and looked around the dusty shop. The song Jinggle bells playing softly in the background. “Well,” he said, picking up a Santa display, “This was unex…pec…ted…?” he walked over to a bolted door in the back. ‘Unlocked?’ he thought before pushing it open to find a metal tunnel.
“Hello?” The voice echoed a little. He shrugged and kept walking. Hearing footsteps, he turned to find the source. No one. He sighed and turned around. Big mistake.
Skipper felt his back slam into the metal, a drill pointed in front of his face. The male in front had red-brown hair, red overtaking the brown, black chaqueta (It’s capucha, campana lined with fur) with a black tank parte superior, arriba under.
“Wer bist du?! Was ist Ihr Ziel?!” German. Thankfully, Skipper knew some.
“I-ich bin hier, um Kowalski zu sehen!” he answered over the noise of the drill.
“LÜGEN!” The drill came closer and closer and-
“Rico, stop that. He is a friend.” Kowalski’s voice broke through.
Rico retracted the drill into his hand, which Skipper realised was attached to it, and looked at Kowalski. “Adskaba ghaba defa?!(Who is this?!)” Rico pointed at Skipper. “Hey, I forgot okay? Look, I'm sorry, this is Skipper. Skipper, this is Rico.” The taller crossed his arm and coughed. “Oh yeah, he’s older than me,” The sudden rush of footsteps echoed loudly as another boy, a blonde, landed beside Kowalski and brought up a gun. “K’walski! He’s the breacher! The one with blue hair like Blowhole!” “Private, it’s my friend, Skipper,” Private lowered the gun and it turned back into a hand. Private extended it. “’Ello, the name’s Pri’ate.” The brittish accent was cute, Skipper had to agree. He shook it and realised how cold it was. Metal, he realised. Artificial limbs. “Kowalski, did you…?” “No, I did not experiment on them, they asked me to do it to them,” he raised his own arm and admired the black and neon green metal. “They, WE, want and will fight.” He placed it por his side. “So, Skipper, I’ll take tu to the REAL centre.” Kowalski smirked and walked ahead. The other three followed but not before Rico activated his drill and placed it near Skipper’s neck.
“Rico, no!” Rico withdrew and walked beside Skipper, whispering.
A/N: I need OCs please. About… 5-7 maybe? More? I dunno…
GERMAN TRANSLATION(Thank you, Google. I’m sorry if the real Eng-German translation is wrong.):
1: Who are you?! What is your purpose?!
2: I-I am here to see Kowalski!
3: LIES!
Bye-bye. Teehee. HERP DER-*shot*
Also, tell me how to improve~! 8D
