In the quaint town of Salmon Bay, Washington, the Rowe name had become synonymous with fame. After years of tension between conduits and regular humans, a hard-fought peace had finally settled in. Delsin Rowe had comfortably set up shop in this peac...
Ah, Canada. Oh, Canada. Big stretch from America, lots of interesting people and snowy adventures to be had, even when you don't want to be a part of them.
But hey, you wanted to explore outside Washington, and here you are. Not that you're complaining, really. You've gained yourself a cool group of quirky individuals.
It was funny how you met, really. It all started when you saw a poster of some indie rock band named "Sex Bob-Omb" and thought you'd make some graffiti art of it to kill some time.
You could also call it giving Toronto a piece of your talent as an artist, and you sprayed something that you could only word as, "huh, not too shabby". By the time you'd set the spray cans down, you realized you had a bit of an audience.
And by that, you mean a guy in a blue jacket, jeans, white shoes, and shaggy yellowish-brown hair. He looked confused, but definitely like he digged what he saw.
"'Sup?" You greeted, as chill as the snow in the air.
"Hey... I'm Scott, please be our artist." Needless to say, the guy didn't seem to hide his intention to make you join his band.
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"So, you're part of Sex Bob-Omb?" You asked, kinda amused at the fact no subtlety was used at all. "Cool, I'm Y/N. You can call me 'Wyenn', though."
"Wanna come to one of the band's hangouts? We could talk about things along the way." You'd swear Scott was trying to sell a new vacuum cleaner or something, but his enthusiasm was kinda infectious.
"Okay, let's make this happen." You shrugged and gave a grin. You could tell this was gonna be a wild ride.
As Scott led you around, you learned a few things. One was that the band consisted of a guitar player named Stephen...
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...and a drummer named Kim...
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