-Afonso, I'm your cousin. I'm older than you and I'm better than you in riding. Ok, You made your own armor, this is great, amigo, my bueno. But you still need to grow a lot until you can win me, Blanca of Castille, the best motor knight of all Post-Iberia. How often will you need to be defeated by me? Will you only stop when breaking an arm or a leg?
The headband of Princess Blanca was made of gold and silk, and in her dark red armored jacket, a golden castle also embroidered with golden threads. She looked at him with pity and disdain, but it was a Mask. Afonso was her best friend for longer than she could remember. The court in Portucale was her safe landing, while her father Fernando de Castille fought against the Republicans.
Afonso was young and and stubborn. His armored jacket was white, with shoulder pads, knee pads, elbow pads and blue boots. On the back, a large cross painted the Order of Christ, as in gangster biker jackets. Your bike, Blue Dragon, was on the floor, all scratched while Lady Lion, the purple bike his cousin, was quietly parked.
Eu sempre quis escrever algo assim. Uma mistura de Tron, Mad Max e The Tudors. Onde príncipes e princesas montam em motos potentes e disputam em justas num mundo pós-apocalipse nuclear. O que eu queria mesmo era saber desenhar, para poder mostrar em detalhes essa história.