JonJon sent a wisp of his long blond hair upward with a puff of air from his lips. His head of hair cascaded onto his shoulders making him look like a mop.
That analogy couldn't have been more true. His 6 foot 6 inch body was barely covered by his meager 146lbs weight. He resembled a stick, his very baggy jeans comfortable loose on his body but did not impend his movement.
They were held up precariously by a sharply studded belt and they hid his worn and torn shoes. The pants black color was complemented by a baggy tee with his favorite band adorned on it, Cannibal Corpse.The tee hand a baggy long sleeve under it that was a black color as well. Across his neck was a white bandanna that could be pulled up over his face. On his head a pair of aviator sunglasses. He checked his pockets one last time making sure his inventory hadn't changed on him.

Laying across his lap was a skateboard that had the marks of heavy use. It's axles metallic sheen and the scratched wood of the deck. He rummaged through his pocket and laid his things on the board like a desk. The first was his Zippo lighter. The second was a butterfly knife with a 4 inch blade. The third was a pack of cigerrets. The forth was a nearly full can of spray paint.
After confirming that his things were all in order he took a glance over at the mirror. He teleported over to it instantly without a sound. Taking a final glance a his unruly head of hair he teleported to the newly open doorway that lead to an unknown destination.

The crowd cheered once again as another participant entered the sandy arena. The anticipation was building, the lust for blood was obvious.

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