002 / BACK TO REALITY
September 21st, 2016
6:16 AM
Palm Coast, Florida
Tampa Aphen Sa'Amara, born November 6th 2000, Male gender, Bisexual, 5 foot 8 inches, Lithian decent, Zealot class (sound manipulator) …
"Mph… oh, my fucking head." Tampa groaned out, awaking to the darkness of his bedroom with the faint morning light coming through a nearby window. He rose slowly, feeling the stiffness of every joint and muscle being pulled in the most uncomfortable ways. He felt extremely groggy and sick, the chronic depression setting in quickly. His balance was thrown off when he stood up on his feet, the weight of his tail tossing him from side to side. He switched on the light on his ceiling fan, the brightness blinding him for a moment, but once he could see again, he faced a full body mirror, sighing at his own reflection.
He wore under clothing over his deep olive skin with scales that would gradiate from Blue to Green, and the occasional body hair. His hair (on his head) is a deep black, tied back to show his Red and yellow eyes, a scar that runs down his cheek and onto his body, and a symbol that resembles an inverted cross on his forehead. Behind his thin frame hung a tail that reached his calves, swinging slowly left to right.
Tampa sighed at his own reflection, accepting the fact that he is different, inhuman… alien.
He left into the living room, the door squealing open as it moved. He found his foster-mother, also a Lithian, leaning on the counter connected to both the living room and the kitchen. By the smell that filled the air, she was drinking coffee. Tampa could tell it was black by how strong and bitter the scent was.
"Good morning, Tampa. Did you sleep well?" The foster-mother asked, but in a different language. She turned to him and gave a warm, but very tired looking smile.
"Yeah, you can say I did. At least I'm still walking." Tampa responded in the same language, quickly giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Tampa scavved through the fridge and pulled two things out of it. He drank from and unmarked bottle and quickly chased it down with a can of Mtn. Dew. This is his coffee, a Lithian made protein drink and a can of liquid caffeine to give a system a quick and effective jolt awake… odd but addictive.
After the drink and a quick piss, he started to get ready for school and the hell that it offers. Shower, shave, clothes, and backpack. He was ready to leave. He snatched up his DeathWish skateboard and flew out the door. It was foggy outside, but a good kind. It gave the atmosphere a calm and relaxing vibe to Tampa.
He pushed his way down the street, only hearing the traffic from the outside of his neighborhood. With his ability, he muted that out and focused on the boards wheels rolling along the asphalt. Subtle vibrations traveled up and into Tampa's body. Just the feeling of cruising along made him happy, but it was much deeper than that. It was a calm, and relaxing high, or in Tampa's case, true euphoria. Only if the feeling would last forever, replacing his near crippling depression and anxiety… only if.
Tampa came and stopped at a street corner, taking a seat on his board. This has been his bus stop to and from school for eight years, or ever since his arrival on Earth. It was very tough in the beginning, but thing eased out over time.
He sat quietly and pulled out an iPod from his pocket, but he was interrupted, feeling something touch his shoulder. His body tensed up on contact, slowly turning around to see who it is. There was another teen about his age, smiling and looking down onto him.
The teen is Male, and short, only standing at five foot one. He carries long brunette hair that went past his shoulders, but it had a drawback. One of his ice blue eyes were covered, leaving only one to be exposed to the world. His skin is light, almost as light as the fog around him, and has feminine facial and bodily features, making him thin and slender. His clothes are dark, consisting of black with touches of cyan. This is Greyson "Grey" Jade, one of the few known homosexuals of both school and the neighborhood, but he's mainly known to be Tampa's best friend.
Morning Tampa, how are you?" Greyson asked, his voice light and a tad breathy.
"I'm okay. Nothing too special, you know? I'm just glad that I was able to get some sleep." Tampa responded, watching Greyson approach and sit next to him.
The two conversed happily, even to the point where minutes turned to seconds. Soon enough, the bus rushed through the fog to come to a halting stop in front of the two. The vehicle itself was rusted and worn, but it was beat by the bus driver, who smelled like alcohol and stale cigarettes.
Tampa and Greyson boarded quietly and took a seat in the back of the bus, going through the trip without a word.