It Takes All Kinds...(Open)

[Spirit]

Deep in the heart of the earth, in a formidable network of bunkers under the city, nicknamed The Burrow, there was a chamber, dimly lit with a combination of dying fluorescent lighting and homely, flickering candles, each set on a small wooden bench, much like the picnic tables in parks, in its own clear jam jar. By one of these candles, there sat a girl. She had white hair, and a pale complexion, and as her slender hands fiddled with a metal piece from her Beyblade, which was currently in pieces all over the bench, her grey, blue eyes studied a tattered piece of paper that read 'Instructions for Use'. Occasionally, the girl, who went by the name of Spirit, laid one piece back down, and picked another up, and set about cleaning and sprucing the piece carefully, as if lives depended on it. She sighed, and wiped her forehead, though she was not sweaty, and rested her head in one hand for a while, attempting to cool her throbbing headache caused by concentrating too hard. Spirit sighed again, and set back to work, though not before stowing away her instructions. A ghost of a smile played about her lips, as she picked up the top piece of her beyblade, with its scrapes and dents - battle scars, and proof she was no mere beginner. Then her eyes wandered to a plate like area, held in with four white claws. The smile vanished, and one thought swum to the surface of her mind: I'll get a Bit Beast one day...