Call me Who: Wild Child, Storm, anyone else wanna join? When: Saturday morning (backdated) Where: Gibs' apartment/Training complex What: Kyle is starting his day in his usual way Warning: Language is a possibility The small studio apartment looked rather like a tornado had hit it, but that was the normal state of things for the seemingly eternally young Kyle Gibney. Clothing, CD's, dirty dishes, empty fast food bags all mingled together all over. It was not that he was trying to be disgusting, cleaning up was just not something that often occurred to the young feral. a rather large pile of dirty clothing was stacked to block the front door, but that was fine. Kyle hardly ever used the front door.
A toothy grin broke across chapped lips as Gibs bobbed his blonde head in time with the music blasting in his pointed ears. The wires of the headphones clicked against the piercings in his ears as he pushed the balcony door open, big hands closing around the railing as he leaned forward and pulled in a long, deep breath of the morning air. A heavy metal cover of Blondie's Call Me blared in his ears, the bass and screaming already getting him pumped up, ready to face the day.
He dropped his CD player into the roomy pocket of his cargo shorts, the kid had never quite gotten the hang of computers, much less iPods, and snatched up his skateboard. He stepped back until his back pressed to the balcony door before he gave a delighted little growl and sprang over the balcony. He was only on the third story, the fall was next to nothing for this particular mutant. He pulled his knees to his chest and planted his bare, furry feet onto his skateboard. He landed on the blacktop below with a rough grunt, delighted that none of the wheels popped off from the impact, that always resulted in his rolling ass over head and losing skin and fur.
He kicked the ground beside the board to speed himself along, quickly closing the distance between himself and the training facility. He cut sharply to the right, springing off the board and tossing his long, tangled hair out of his face as he stopped before the familiar building. Gibs was here every day when he was not out on a mission, his feral gene required him to constnatly work out or feel endlessly restless and surly, and no one wanted a bored, cranky feral around. He casually stepped on the butt of the board, catching it as it flipped into the air as he stepped inside and sniffed at the air. Who was around today? Kyle let his nose lead the way.