[Zelos hadn't really read the taskboard as much as he'd casually glanced at it, but c'mon, 'attractive and stylish' people? That prompt practically had his name on it.]
[Only it probably hadn't, and when he showed up to the warehouse, he'd wished he'd taken a closer look. There were some things he could understand, but an automated tricycle? Who were they even making that for?]
[Zelos wanted to bail, but his pride wouldn't let him. Were tricycles cool? Hell no. But if there was someone who could make them cool, it was Zelos Wilder.]
[After making sure he's properly dressed, he heads out into town. Whether he feels shame or not is unclear because he's playing this as absolutely cool as he can. Somehow, he manages to attract a few stragglers, and before long, he's leading a a tricycle gang, complete with fangirls.]
[Clearly, this menace must be stopped. Is your character up to the challenge?]
[F-1]
[Zelos wasn't really a fan of work (in so many words), but a good deal of the jobs on the taskboard were right up his alley. Beating up a few wimpy skeletons? That he could handle.]
[What he hadn't counted on was a room of lab equipment trying to kill him. As he ducked behind a desk to avoid a flying stapler, he was beginning to sorely regret telling the rest of the party he could handle this room alone.]
[Someone come back to check on this idiot?]
[F-2/G?]
[He thought he'd been in the clear when he managed to make it out of the lab, but as it was, nothing seemed to be going right for Zelos Wilder. Somebody had taken a bucket of the questionable liquid back into the city for 'testing,' and of course, it had been dropped. Right onto Zelos.]
[He's good enough at hiding his emotions that he can get by for awhile, but soon it's apparent that the redhead isn't his usual obnoxious self. From his crossed arms to the scowl that's found its way onto his face, it's clear that he's not in a good mood. Eventually he has enough, and he flies to the roof of a nearby building.]
[He's hoping for quiet, but his wings are bright enough to be seen from half a mile away.]
[Wildcard]
[Up to you! If you wanna plot, feel free to hit up this journal.]
Zelos Wilder | Tales of Symphonia
[Zelos hadn't really read the taskboard as much as he'd casually glanced at it, but c'mon, 'attractive and stylish' people? That prompt practically had his name on it.]
[Only it probably hadn't, and when he showed up to the warehouse, he'd wished he'd taken a closer look. There were some things he could understand, but an automated tricycle? Who were they even making that for?]
[Zelos wanted to bail, but his pride wouldn't let him. Were tricycles cool? Hell no. But if there was someone who could make them cool, it was Zelos Wilder.]
[After making sure he's properly dressed, he heads out into town. Whether he feels shame or not is unclear because he's playing this as absolutely cool as he can. Somehow, he manages to attract a few stragglers, and before long, he's leading a a tricycle gang, complete with fangirls.]
[Clearly, this menace must be stopped. Is your character up to the challenge?]
[F-1]
[Zelos wasn't really a fan of work (in so many words), but a good deal of the jobs on the taskboard were right up his alley. Beating up a few wimpy skeletons? That he could handle.]
[What he hadn't counted on was a room of lab equipment trying to kill him. As he ducked behind a desk to avoid a flying stapler, he was beginning to sorely regret telling the rest of the party he could handle this room alone.]
[Someone come back to check on this idiot?]
[F-2/G?]
[He thought he'd been in the clear when he managed to make it out of the lab, but as it was, nothing seemed to be going right for Zelos Wilder. Somebody had taken a bucket of the questionable liquid back into the city for 'testing,' and of course, it had been dropped. Right onto Zelos.]
[He's good enough at hiding his emotions that he can get by for awhile, but soon it's apparent that the redhead isn't his usual obnoxious self. From his crossed arms to the scowl that's found its way onto his face, it's clear that he's not in a good mood. Eventually he has enough, and he flies to the roof of a nearby building.]
[He's hoping for quiet, but his wings are bright enough to be seen from half a mile away.]
[Wildcard]
[Up to you! If you wanna plot, feel free to hit up this journal.]