05-09-2021, 12:32 AM
(It is ^^)
In a neighborhood as this, gated and well off from the likes of the usual urban community, hearing a bell ring usually meant it was the person they were expecting right away. Kyson “Ky (Kai)” Tiller wouldn’t go to the door however. Him leaving the table from Breakfast was for him to glance himself over in the mirror. His PR, Gail, would handle that. Appearances were everything, after all.
What could be said of him, physically? He stood at Five Foot Eleven, not too tall and not too short as he liked to imagine it. He sported a soft caramel brown skin tone and a muscular frame that attested to having to know a few dance routines and choreography. Sometimes, he spent a little more time working on those for the group to help them look more organized. He sported signs of a budding beard, one not too thin to be considered stubble. A mustache, even. All of that properly connected around his jawline to his actual hair, which he kept short and styled in a fringe based mohawk and hidden underneath a blue bandana.
No need for him to make this anything than what it was, either. The African-American male dressed urban and casual, a black loose T-Shirt and khaki pants. Some might have gone the extra mile to dress in a school uniform for these private studies, but last he checked, not only was he an adult, he was popular. That was not arrogance, rather recognizing his worth and his worth demanded he keep this professional.
As Gail led Jace into the house and through a door that revealed a two story study; the first floor for whatever Kyson wanted it to be and the second floor a mini-library of sorts, he properly stood up, announcing “Morning. Gail’s told me a lot about you. Name’s Kyson, but just call me Ky.”
In a neighborhood as this, gated and well off from the likes of the usual urban community, hearing a bell ring usually meant it was the person they were expecting right away. Kyson “Ky (Kai)” Tiller wouldn’t go to the door however. Him leaving the table from Breakfast was for him to glance himself over in the mirror. His PR, Gail, would handle that. Appearances were everything, after all.
What could be said of him, physically? He stood at Five Foot Eleven, not too tall and not too short as he liked to imagine it. He sported a soft caramel brown skin tone and a muscular frame that attested to having to know a few dance routines and choreography. Sometimes, he spent a little more time working on those for the group to help them look more organized. He sported signs of a budding beard, one not too thin to be considered stubble. A mustache, even. All of that properly connected around his jawline to his actual hair, which he kept short and styled in a fringe based mohawk and hidden underneath a blue bandana.
No need for him to make this anything than what it was, either. The African-American male dressed urban and casual, a black loose T-Shirt and khaki pants. Some might have gone the extra mile to dress in a school uniform for these private studies, but last he checked, not only was he an adult, he was popular. That was not arrogance, rather recognizing his worth and his worth demanded he keep this professional.
As Gail led Jace into the house and through a door that revealed a two story study; the first floor for whatever Kyson wanted it to be and the second floor a mini-library of sorts, he properly stood up, announcing “Morning. Gail’s told me a lot about you. Name’s Kyson, but just call me Ky.”