=== Be the Author's shitty self insert.
` You are KYLE JOHNSON and currently you are very happy about your mother's promotion despite it having happened several months ago by now. You see your mother wouldn't have ordered Sburb for you and your sister otherwise and you would have… well being the mama's boy you are you would have sighed and gone to your room and wrote something and pretty much ended the story there. But I'm going off on a tangent here. Your computer (One you proudly would admit to building yourself with little outside help.) was whirring away as you stared at your friends 'Ironic' selfie. Besides the photo in the middle of the screen was the window to the side of it proudly proclaiming the installation of Sburb client and under that a progress bar notifying you of the progress of the Sburb server client. "Definitely a dude." You say getting up and silently asking the author to change to third person so you you get a description of Kyle.
Kyle Johnson is a young man with brown eyes and like colored hair. Well his hairs is more milk choclateish than his eyes which are more leafy brown. At least that's what he likes to think. Anyways, he is currently wearing his serious business shirt which is a light green. But not a light green like a forest green or sea foam green. He never really knows what to call the green his shirt is and it bothers him more than it should. Kyle puts his glasses on looking over to his window. He sees nothing but the backyard and the backyard of the neighbor behind the fence. He would probably call him a hick if it weren't for the fact he would also be called one just going off his idea of what a hick is in that scenario. He stands up and brushes off his pants. They are in case you wished to know cargo pants. The beauty of cargo pants is that he only needs to use his fetch modus sometimes. Not that he dislikes the modus, it just takes a while to store things in it. That's the problem with the Prompt modus, to store things you to have to write a random prompt about the item which leads to awkward conversations about why he is writing a romantic story about a spear or whatever he wants in it at the time. Yeah, he likes things with multiple uses. Which is why there is a trenchcoat in the corner just waiting for him to get it out when the blazing heat of not winter is gone. Stupid not winter and not being able to go out without a chance of heat stroke. That said he also has less practical coverings for special occasions. He looks at the gas mask over the trench coat which he got for meeting his friend from Houston. You know, in Texas. The mask has a small crack in the eye piece from the resulting door to the face of a freaked out friend. But after that it became a joke to do things with the mask to try and freak his friend out.
Kyle walks over to an empty journal and after a brief moment of thought decides to stick it in his sylladex. A prompt appears with a small keyboard on the card. Kyle rapidly types something into the keyboard and the journal disappears into his inventory. "I should have just asked mom for an Array modus instead of this garbage." Kyle sighs and logs goes out to his living room.
Laying on his couch is a girl. She looks about a year or two younger than Kyle. Which is actually exactly how much younger she was at age thirteen. She was about a head shorter than Kyle who stands at six feet even. Her outfit is composed of darker colors than Kyle's outfit. Her hair is brown and if they were open one would be able to notice that her eyes are brown as well. Kyle waves to his dad as he passes the computer room and grabs a bottle of soda he put in the freezer a couple of minutes ago out of, well, the freezer.
*Authors note* This is probably the first thing I've written that I don't think I'll regret. And on that note I have run into a brick wall in deciding whether to stick with what I had in mind for later and have Kyle be a hero of mind or to pick something else while it isn't set in stone.