Enzo's birthday! No, really! He swears!
Out by the Caribbean inlet, there's a table full of party food (mostly matter, with one gluttonous portion of digital separated from it by a line of paper streamers) and a rented boombox emitting suitably raucous music.
Enzo Matrix, minus a little puppy fat and plus two inches and a modicum of jaw, is mostly undressed in a pair of dark blue swim trunks, with his icon stuck to one leg just above the hem. Even at this age, one can see the effect of Guardian training on his physique. He's feeling the latest round of changes to his body, stretching and pacing around a pile of flotation devices, beach balls, and pool noodles.
[[OOC: Open to guests and crashers alike until it falls off the page!]]
Enzo Matrix, minus a little puppy fat and plus two inches and a modicum of jaw, is mostly undressed in a pair of dark blue swim trunks, with his icon stuck to one leg just above the hem. Even at this age, one can see the effect of Guardian training on his physique. He's feeling the latest round of changes to his body, stretching and pacing around a pile of flotation devices, beach balls, and pool noodles.
[[OOC: Open to guests and crashers alike until it falls off the page!]]