Spread my wings and fly!
Location: Speedy’s Bar
Time: Arriving in Aternaville
Characters: Oz
Public, Private, or Semi-Private: Public
Incomplete or Complete: Incomplete
Rating: PG
Summary: A new arrival in town. Beast or human, whatever he is… He’s an Oz.
Oz stepped off of the train, one tote bag slung across his shoulders and his guitar case in hand. He wore a pair of baggy brown corduroy pants and a bright green shirt with the crayola insignia on it. His ever-changing hair? Today it was raven black with red tips. Over it all is a leather jacket lined with faux fur.
The cool air feels nice, cleansing as he makes his way through the streets away from the bus station. The faint sound of music fills the air and instead of finding a hotel or apartment like he should be doing, he follows the music.
Never was one for going with the plan…
He walks into Speedy Bar. It’s karaoke night and a guy is already on stage singing. He signs in the next slot and shrugs off his jacket revealing several tattoos up his arms and neck visible around the sleeves and neckline of his shirt. At least this town has a place he can play in. He gets his guitar out of the case and walks up onto the small stage. The bar is mostly empty but he doesn’t really care. The music is for him.
The piece he selects he wrote himself. It starts out slow and picks up the beat turning into a solo guitar rock ballade. There are no words, just him, his guitar, and a smoke filled bar of faceless people. It works... for now.
Time: Arriving in Aternaville
Characters: Oz
Public, Private, or Semi-Private: Public
Incomplete or Complete: Incomplete
Rating: PG
Summary: A new arrival in town. Beast or human, whatever he is… He’s an Oz.
Oz stepped off of the train, one tote bag slung across his shoulders and his guitar case in hand. He wore a pair of baggy brown corduroy pants and a bright green shirt with the crayola insignia on it. His ever-changing hair? Today it was raven black with red tips. Over it all is a leather jacket lined with faux fur.
The cool air feels nice, cleansing as he makes his way through the streets away from the bus station. The faint sound of music fills the air and instead of finding a hotel or apartment like he should be doing, he follows the music.
Never was one for going with the plan…
He walks into Speedy Bar. It’s karaoke night and a guy is already on stage singing. He signs in the next slot and shrugs off his jacket revealing several tattoos up his arms and neck visible around the sleeves and neckline of his shirt. At least this town has a place he can play in. He gets his guitar out of the case and walks up onto the small stage. The bar is mostly empty but he doesn’t really care. The music is for him.
The piece he selects he wrote himself. It starts out slow and picks up the beat turning into a solo guitar rock ballade. There are no words, just him, his guitar, and a smoke filled bar of faceless people. It works... for now.