[h2]An introduction, pretentious of course.[/h2]
[i][color=yellow]Hmmmm,[/color][/i] Someone thought in the mass of teenagers, [i][color=yellow]Perhaps I should make a good first impression.[/color][/i]

He clearly stood out (he was pretty sure he did) with his pure white skin, hair and eyes, an unusual trait which had helped him lie about his age to take part in all the gambling he possibly could. He wore the fancy clothing which he'd had on when he had died, very expensive (probably, he kinda just won them in a bet) and he stood with a kind of poise that said he radiated confidence (and confident he most definitely is).

He walked forward on the carpet, surprisingly solid and unmoving in the air. The air above was light as if it was day, oblivious to the absence of the sun (almost as pretentious as he was), the white-haired asshat breathed in the fresh air. All things considered, hell may as well have been a good consolation prize (wow, I was right(as in he's pretentious(and I'm also pretentious))) for the damned.

He boldly strode forwards towards the throne (not quite but it'll do), and stood still in front of the being. He was flush with victory after having the entire English military and the biggest underground gambling ring in the world chase after him and not having caught him. A deck of cards appeared in his hands, and he spread them out like a fan in front of him, face side upwards.

[b][color=yellow]"Pick a card,"[/color][/b] He said, [b][color=yellow]"Any card."[/color][/b] (Wow, that's like, three different kinds of pretentious)