The Dark Knight Rises[[Open]]

[Date Masamune™]

[[OoC: Completely original thread name >> << >>]]

There was a slight chill as I walked through the streets. It was in the norm for Long Beach. Hell, back in New York this would have been considered a nice day. It's been a while since I've come back here. The streets were still trashed. The city was still lawless, but safe. The remaining Paladins and the Crows had done their job well. It looks like I'll have to talk to the Crows, even if it means sucking up my pride and talking to... that guy. What was his name again, Kyoji? He went to 552 I remembered that and we had a few fights, but his name never stuck with me.

Some people in the past have likened me to Batman. A rich boy with parent issues who likes to spend his nights with the company of some of the most rotten people on the face of the earth, but to Batman there is nothing more than Gotham City. If you ask me, I'm more like Nightwing, the original Robin, or in other words Dick Grayson. Yah laugh it up now because I'm going to move on. You see, Nightwing's home is always going to be Gotham and my Gotham is New York City. If Gotham is in trouble, I will go save it at any cost. But Nightwing also settled himself into Bludhaven. And right now, my Bludhaven, Long Beach, needs me. New York was safe in the hands of my former Pillars and allies from 552 as well as the militia that had been organized there.

My butler had been organizing mass parties of refugees to be staying at Yuy Manor. It had also been serving as a head quarters for Paladins for now. I had struck a deal with Gabriel. In return for protection of the refugees and those employed under me, the Paladins were granted a place to stay, a headquarters, and meals. But it seems that in the time that I was away the Paladins have spread thin. Very few remain behind to protect the stronghold. Well, in that case it's a good thing that I've come back.

I was out on a patrol. Recently I became the Interim Head of the Paladins; however, I never enjoyed sitting behind a table. Even as School Captain of 552 I was almost always patrolling like this. Heh... there I go again holding onto the past. I guess I just can't let go of my mistakes. You see I was the last School Captain of 552, but I couldn't stop the violence in the school and it ended up getting shut down. But I digress.

What was I looking for on patrol? I didn't know. Maybe I just needed a walk and went out under the guise of being on patrol. At any rate, the rain was getting irritating, even with the hood of my blue hoodie up. The droplets made my black jeans seem even darker and the mud stained my black sneakers. Not that it mattered. I always hated the rain. Even my hair was starting to get soaked through. Despite all of this... I guess it's good to back.

[Marcus Prasad]

You know what sucks? A Cold Rainy day. The streets were slick, making it harder to control a Harley Davidson Motorcycle, and the water droplets kept splashing into ones Riding goggles. Well, if you into wearing riding goggles while on a motorcycle anyway.
It's a good habit though. Keeps the dust, dirt and bugs from smacking your eyeballs as well as the aformentioned rain.

Plus it looks god damn spiffy!

Ponytail flapping out the back of his Skullcap, Marcus luckely had plenty enough skill to maintain control of his 6 cylinder monstrosity. There wasen't alot of people, or cars out today. This bothered the man. It made the city feel like the kind of ghost town he had passed by more times than he cared to count and filled his heart with dread as old memories best forgotten threatened to surface.

There was alot Marcus had to face in his time traveling to California. Things he would rather leave dead and buried with not but a stuck shovel as a grave marker.

Whipping around a steet corner, with the trademark staccato engine roar echoing down the soak and wet streets, Marcus Ran right through a puddle in a fit of glee, only to realize too late that the street wasn't as barren as he thought it was.

'Awww fuck, I think I just splashed someone....'
A Tiny dagger of guilt pricked his heart as he screamed over his shoulder "SORRY BOUT THAT!"
Wondering if he should stop, turn around and offer the victim a ride to wherever they were planning to go.

[Delilah A. Black]

Delilah would never be able to understand those who hated the rain. To her, it was as if nature herself giving permission for life to continue here in the remains of the city. That even after all was lost, there was still some hope to be found.

And so, the raven haired mechanic stood on the caved in roof of what was once a hardware store, moving slowly through whatever technique or form struck her fancy. Whatever felt natural to her, like the arm bar she just put her invisible opponent in. Like the rain. Rain was natural and touched everything it could. Water flows, unimpeded, with grace. In that fluidity is the strength to adapt, to change, to grow. And because of this, water can become a destructive force to be reckoned with. Like everything, it could destroy as easily as it provided life. Delilah rotated sharply to the left, avoiding a nonexistant downward cut and stepped in with a series of fluid strikes, ending with a fierce stomp to her enemies invisible head.

The rain had soaked her to the skin and left the thick scars on her arms, old knife wounds, shimmering with moisture. Her coal black hair clung to her skin, as did her gray tank top, dripping with excess water. In spite of the slight chill, Delilah felt warm. She was grinning unabashedly, losing her usually serious countenance and reveling in the joy of the rain. It wasn’t often that she got away for some alone time these days, what with her son and doing engineering work for Crows. This was a rare and real treat.

Midway through the next set of kata she had chosen to perform, came a familiar roaring from up the street. Delilah stopped abruptly and moved towards the ledge of where she stood, looking down.

Her suspicions confirmed, Delilah instantly recognized the rumble of the Harley with four, no…sounds like six cylinder engine coming from up the road. The mechanic brightened as she always did around excellent pieces of vehicular awesome (YOU COULD HYDROPLANE, IDIOT. DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT THAT WOULD DO TO THE BIKE?)[/I][/s]. It made her long for her Lamborghini racing days, now long behind her. C'est la vie.

Noticing a small amount of movement a little closer to where she was, Delilah’s eyes fixed on a figure walking down the street across from her wearing a hoodie. She glanced worriedly up the road at the figure on the speeding bike, guessing what would happen. She moved a little further up the building to an over turned satellite that was filled with water, perched on the ledge of the building. She watched with a mild amount of interest as the guy on the bike splashed water at the guy in the hoodie. Delilah winced sympathetically, but smiled all the same. Goodness, but she loved rain!

Feeling uncharacteristically impish, as the guy on the bike came within distance, she gave the satellite dish on the ledge a light tap with her foot, upending it over the side and in the vicinity of the man on the bike.

>w>~

A little vengeance, courtesy of Delilah.

She let out a wild laugh as the dish came crashing down, just behind the water. She jumped down after, landing nimbly on her feet along the sidewalk, grinning. “Wasn’t that fun~?!” she chirped, chuckling, looking between the man on the bike and the man in the hoodie. [/size]

((OOC: =D?!))

[Date Masamune™]

I heard the roar of a few engines coming toward my direction from behind. Is it funny that I instinctively grabbed my fighting gloves from the pockets of my sweatshirts? It might sound stereotypical but you have no clue how many times I've been surrounded by bikers wanting to prove what they're made of. Turns out they're made of the same stuff that everyone else I've fought is, an undeserved ego. As the noise approached me, I realized that it wasn't a few engines. But just one. One engine that loud? Someone was most certainly compensating. I slid my gloves on. Generally people that compensated were ones that wanted to prove themselves for something. My knees started to bend as I would be about to jump out of the way of the bike and take a defensive stance. But something stopped me from doing so.

SPLASH

Before I was just kind of wet. Yah go ahead I know it sounds funny. But now... I was just kind of well... drenched would be a good way to put it. Great. Now I was cold and soaked. Why did I stop before you ask? You see, I've been able to dodge punches that were thrown at bone shattering speeds, I've been able to thoroughly read and predict my opponents movements to the T even when I've been outnumbered 15 to 1, hell I've dodged an ambulance that was well over the speed limit trying to run me over. What was the difference between then and now? I didn't sense any killing intent.

Instead, some guy drove past me shouting an apology. I just kind of sighed and pulled my gloves off. It appeared that Jeeves would have to do the laundry early this week. After all, this was my favorite sweat shirt. I only hoped my butler wouldn't be too snooty about it. You see, he has a thing for talking sarcastically. He's also British and to me, everything he says sounds sarcastic. I can't tell when he's being serious or not.

I pulled off the hood of my sweatshirt. Damn even my hair was soaked through. I'd give my head a little bit of a shake, trying to throw away any excess water I could. As I looked up I realized something. A sattelite dish falling towards my would-be-assailant. Now, I was slightly pissed off at the guy. Well I wouldn't call it pissed off at more like irritated with. Anyways that's besides the point. I didn't want this guy getting hurt. As I saw the dish hurdling down, I heard a girl's voice. Fun? What's so fun about hurting people?! I mean hell the guy could slip and fall off of his bike and break every bone in his body!

I thought quick. There was no way I could accelerate my body from a stand still enough to catch up with the bike and block the dish. Even with my QI I wouldn't be fast enough. Instead I looked around, for something. Anything. The rubble on the ground... that would have to do for now. Realizing my legs were probably stronger than my arms, I'd kick the rubble in the direction of the sattelite dish. But like I said, there was a slight chill in the air and the wind certainly wasn't helping. I also hadn't played soccer since freshman year and my kicks could hit targets, but I hadn't kicked anything at anyone in a little while. With that said. I hoped I'd be able to apologize to the man that was driving the motorcycle for kicking some dry wall towards the back of his head.

"This... isn't going to end well is it?"

[Marcus Prasad]

A Great man once said
"Whether or not this ends in tears, It's going to end spectacularly!"

You know that feeling when your in danger how time seems to slow to a crawl? Thats your brain shunting all available power to your eyes, allowing you to percieve minutes as if they were days.
Yeah, Marcus was definatly in that zone when he turned back around to face forward.

Now a gallon or ten of falling water, followed by a falling satallite dish, followed by a brick screaming at him from behind would normally spell disaster for our hero right?
Allow me to explain something. Marcus had built that bike from the ground up, rode it every chance he could. Rode it all across the world, through Monsoons in India, down the Deutch Autobahn, and along some of the most dangerous back country roads the world had to offer in the decade or so in which he traveled.

In short, Marcus didn't ride his bike. He simply moved with more horsepower than you can shake a stick at. The bike was as much an extension of his body as his arms and legs.

And we all know how effective he was with those.

Eyes wide, and mind focused to a razors edge, He drove through the curtain of water and kicked the bike into a fishtail that sent him gliding in a lazy circle around the impact site of the satallite dish, somehow keeping the bike from completely tipping over and forceing a bailout and as the dish bounced over his head as he came to a stop facing the psycho bitch and the poor sod he drenched, he jerked his head to the side as a piece of masonry whizzed inched from his bearded face.

For a moment, Everything was still. With one foot on the ground Marcus stared down the chick who nearly wrecked his precious machine. Suddenly he ripped his skullcap off his head and shot his arms straight in the air, letting out a loud WAAAAAAAAAAGH of Triumph.

"Muther FUCK ON HIGH!"
He screamed before pointing at The crazy woman who started this.
"PLEASE TELL ME YOU RECORDED THAT!"

[Delilah A. Black]

Having jumped down from the roof after the display, Delilah was gifted a birds-eye view of how he avoided the satellite and was thoroughly impressed. He had excellent control of his bike and was aware of his surroundings: a somewhat rare trait in the majority of motorcyclists she had met over the years. She also had noticed the-splashed-guy kick some debris towards the-guy-on-bike. She wasn’t certain if that was an aggressive gesture. It didn’t appear to be one, at any rate.

She had touched down nimbly not too far from the crash site hands on her hips and a wide smile stretching her face. Now for the aftermath.

"This... isn't going to end well is it?"


Delilah lifted her head to the Asian looking gentleman who had been soaked by the bike, hearing his words. She flashed him a roguish grin that seemed to say ‘We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we~?’ before returning her attention to the man who was now whipping off his hat, hollering his conquest to the heavens.

"Muther FUCK ON HIGH!"

He jabbed a finger at Delilah who was still unable to suppress a smile. Unconsciously, she readied herself.


"PLEASE TELL ME YOU RECORDED THAT!"

She blanched for a second before throwing her head back and bursting into raucous laughter. Not quite the reaction she had been expecting, but it was the better outcome by far.

“I did NOT, but MAN, I wish I had! That was AWESOME!!![/U]”[/color] She clapped her hands together and shook her head, still laughing. “I apologize for the scare; I just couldn’t resist! You, sir, are a very talented rider. I tip my hat to you,” she mimed tugging the brim of an otherwise nonexistent hat down ever so slightly to the left. “I also apologize to the Lady. I wouldn’t normally dream of hurting such a beautiful thing, but if I did, Lilah would have fixed you right up! Yes she would! YES SHE WOULD~.”

The ‘Lady’ Delilah was, of course, referring to (in the same way a stranger would coo at a cute child or a puppy [and not at all dispelling the notion that she was crazy]), was the Harley Davidson. It felt like eons since she had last been around a machine that didn’t suck. Not that the bikes she repaired and built for the Crows were bad, but they were by no means custom built Harley freakin’ Davidson Softails! All things considered, upending a satellite full of water had been an excellent ice-breaker. That TOTALLY made the danger factor ok, in Delilah’s mind.

The sky overhead suddenly flashed, then cracked with a roar of echoing thunder. The mechanic instinctively bent her knees, lowering herself as if prepared to move or roll at an instant, one hand on her bowie-knife. She relaxed a moment later and beckoned to the two thoroughly drenched gentlemen, a more serious demeanor encompassing her features.

“We should get out of this before it gets any worse. You two should get out of those wet things, anyway.” She commented, apparently not noticing that she was completely soaked herself. She looked back up the road and down the other way. “There should be a place around here somewhere…”[/size]

[Marcus Prasad]

As the strange woman began to coo to his bike as one would coo to a puppy dog, Marcus subconciously began to pet it. His face beaming with pride. As she tipped her imaginary hat off to him, he would respond by elaboratly bowing as best he could while soak and wet and sitting on a Harley.
"Why thank you Miss, we do appreciate your kind words!"
He responded, all thoughts of rending her into peices completly gone from his mind.
"Besides, If I'd botched that, I'd have eaten my cap! Can never resist a chance to show off, huh?"

Marcus couldn't stay mad. She seemed genuinly sorry and the prestige he no doubt had just earned would come in handy!
So he would forgive this 'Lilah'.
Besides, she seemed cooky. And Marcus felt there just weren't enough cooky people in the world.

Still feeling the flush of adrenaline keeping him warm from the soaking wet chill, Marcus was about to open his mouth to speak again when suddenly a flash blinded him for a split second before he heard the familier crash of thunder.

Lilah suggested ducking out of the rain. A plan Marcus readily agreed with.
"Well if you want, hop on."
He offered, patting his softail which purred peacefully from between his legs.
"Though since I don't have a sidecar (Yet) You two are gonna have to fight it out to see who gets front and who gets back."
He declared with a wry grin, gesturing to Lilah and the man he splashed previously. Marcus didn't care who would win that argument either way. He was perfectly comfortable enough having either or sit infront of him. His bike would be alittle sluggish, but he planned on making it up to her later with a nice oil change and full chassis cleanup for being such a good girl!

'Now who gets to ride shotgun and who gets the bitch seat?'

[Date Masamune™]

Now if anything I could tell that this group was rare, but I thought nah forget it "Get out of this rain!" Sorry. I frequently get Fresh Prince lyrics stuck in my head. But seriously? These guys weren't exactly normal. First off the biker, he had almost just died. Or at the very least almost got seriously injured. Secondly he didn't even get angry at the girl or myself. He just seemed excited?! Was he as dumb as Shouichi or Sirynn? And then the girl! One second she's chucking sattelite dishes and the next she's making googly eyes at the motorcycle? I sighed, shaking my head as I walked over to the group.

"Hey you alright? Didn't mean to almost hit you with that. I was trying to knock the sattelite dish out of the way."

So I decided not to lecture the girl about the dangers of tossing sattelite dishes at people's heads. And then this guy suggested we hop on. After seeing what I just had, I didn't think I would even think about riding my own bike in quite a while. I'd pull off my hood and shake some of the rain out of my hair.

"I think I'll pass. But there's some shelter down that way that you should be able to drive right into. I'll meet you guys down there?"

I pointed down the road a bit further. You see, since I came back I went on patrols a lot. Sometimes on foot, sometimes on my bike, and sometimes even in one of the trucks we had back at the manor. I'd started to memorize the layouts of the city, and here in the uninhabited areas of the city, nothing much changed. You know, except that you meet a couple crazy people while you're off on patrol in the rain. It's probably a good idea that I don't tell them that I think they're crazy.

[Delilah A. Black]

"Hey you alright? Didn't mean to almost hit you with that. I was trying to knock the sattelite dish out of the way."


So that’s what he’d been doing! It made much more sense to her now. She looked down at the dish lying a few feet away.

Yeah, no, that hadn’t gone over so well. She turned her attention back to the man-on-Harley who was talking again.

"Well if you want, hop on."

At his words, Delilah’s eyes got all sparkly with glee at the thought of riding on the beautiful Harley. Nothing would make her happier.


"Though since I don't have a sidecar (Yet) You two are gonna have to fight it out to see who gets front and who gets back."


“SHOTGUN!” She blurted without so much as a second thought. Only after speaking did she spare a glance for the Asian-gentleman. She would take the front if need be, for the sake of proper weight distribution, but she preferred the back as a passenger. In case things went bad, she needed to be able to roll out of it.

But in the FRONT she could see everything. Decisions, decisions…

"I think I'll pass. But there's some shelter down that way that you should be able to drive right into. I'll meet you guys down there?"


“Yesssss.”

And with the man’s blessing, Delilah hurried over to the left side of the bike…and paused. She turned her gaze to fix the-man-on-the-sweet-bike with a wry smile, still in an unusually playful mood. Perhaps it was the combination of the bike, the rain, and her good spirits. Not a bad combination, if you think about it. Though it did make her a touch more mischevious than she normally was.

...

Ah, what the hell. It had been a while since she had fun. Might as well take the oppourtunity while she could.

“And where would you like me to mount your steed~?”

((OOC: Apologies for the short post. Suuuper busy at work today.))

[Marcus Prasad]

{OOC} Nothing wrong with short posts I say!{OOC}

Marcus wasen't too terribly surprised when the asian dude he splashed declined. There was the Macho factor to start, of course. Most guys werent as comfortable with what was essentialy straddling another dude (Obvious exemptions aside) and the fact that Marcus never claimed to be the safest driver on the road.

Besides. Safe was BORING!
And boring is and always will be a death sentance to anyone with ADHD

Now Lilah, she definatly was NOT boring. With a chance to get a better look at her, the man had to admit that at first glance, the young woman had the look of a no nonsence, hard eyed lady. Like one of those 'Broken bird' types with The scars down her arm, her Grey tank top and pants that held all dem tight curves in-

AHEM! I'm sorry, where was I?

Right!
Marcus chuckled at Lilah's enthusiasm, having called shotgun just as quick as he had spoken, making moon eyes at his bike.
Such energy! Definatly not what he expected, though the surprise was pleasent. Then again, Most people at first glance tended to peg Marcus as a dumb Biker thug with a leather jacket, so the old chestnut was true about books and thier covers.

At that thought, he casted a sideways glance at the Asian dude and wondered if he was going to spontaniously pull out a Violin and play bluegrass with a wild 'Yeehaw'.
When he apologized and brought up the flying projectile, Marcus dismissed it with a shrug.
"It's cool man. At least you were aiming for it and not me right? Pretty much THAT was the only reason why I was able to duck it in the first place. Remind me not to play soccer with you"
He added with a laugh.

“And where would you like me to mount your steed~?”

Marcus could definatly name a few places, but he held his tongue. Sometimes what was funny in his head never quite translated well out loud. Unfortunatly he couldn't keep the smirk off his face. Pausing for a moment, the Man scootched back in his seat and gave his arms a stretch.
"Well, you did call shotgun. Besides, a true gentleman is prepared to use himself as an umbrella for any lady at a moments notice!"
He added matter of factly and with a flourished wave, extended a hand out to Lilah to assist in getting her mounted.

Marcus turned back to the Asian dude.
"So, what exactly am I looking for exactly?"


Edit: Added alittle bit. Felt like I was leaving Shugo out somewhat, heh. Edited portions in red font.

[Delilah A. Black]

She watched him give her a once over and couldn’t help but feel a brief surge of confidence. Single mom and a mechanic in the apocalyptic age, still getting checked out by the men. She returned his sly smirk with one of her own.

Oh yeah. I still got it.

Now he wasn’t exactly bad looking either. His red hair and ruddy build easily marked him as an Irishman. He was tall, burly and was most definitely a fighter (the cauliflower ears gave him away) and the way he smiled gave him a wild sort of look, like hell was on his heels and he was dancing just out of reach. It reminded her of Stu.

"Well, you did call shotgun. Besides, a true gentleman is prepared to use himself as an umbrella for any lady at a moment’s notice!"

Grinning again, she placed her hand in his and mimed a small curtsey. It might not be so bad to let loose for a change. “Much obliged. A true Gentleman, indeed.” She mounted the bike in one fluid motion in front of him, kicking her right leg over and settling comfortably on the seat in front of her before putting her feet up on the kick stands. She wriggled into place between his legs, anticipating the speedy take off…

…that never happened.

D:< WHY WEREN’T THEY MOVING?!

"So, what exactly am I looking for exactly?"


Who the hell cares?! I wanna ride the bike, dammit!![/i]

Before the Asian man could reply, Delilah put her hands over True Gentleman’s.

“YOU HEARD THE MAN, HE SAID THATAWAY! ONE[/SIZE][/color]TWOTHREEGO!![/I]”[/COLOR][/size]

On ‘go’, Delilah pressed his right hand down to twist the throttle and pried his brake fingers up at the same time, doing the same on his left hand to engage the clutch. She also swung her foot back to step lightly on True Gentleman’s and pressed down on the shifting lever.

The result was the sudden lurch of a bike throwing itself forward on the sudden rev of the engine, quickly propelling the two occupants forward on the screaming metal death trap. She quickly maneuvered the bike away from the walls of the buildings around them and pointed it down the road, cackling madly as the quickly picked up speed, relinquishing control of the man’s bike back to him.

“THIS BIKE IS AWESOME!” She hollered over the biting wind. She was already shivering from the combination of cold wind and wet skin, but otherwise didn’t seem to mind. She had ridden bikes before and she was prepared for the consequences of such.

[Marcus Prasad]

'I wish they all could be California giiiiiiiiirrrrrrrllllllllssss'

“YOU HEARD THE MAN, HE SAID THATAWAY! ONETWOTHREEGO!!”

"Wait wha-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUuuuuuuuugh!"

Would essentialy be the last thing Shugo would most likely hear above the roar of the engine. The sensation of regaining control of the bike was alot like trying to jump up and run on a treadmill that was already up to speed.
'Good lord, this is almost EXACTLY like that one time in India during Monsoon season.'
Marcus thought to himself before realizing that at least this time, there weren't any leeches, or surly native family members complaining about his lack of 'common sense'.

"I Knew it! You ARE trying to kill me."
Marcus teased with a laugh, putting his mouth up close to Lilah's ear so she could hear him over the engine. Well this was definatly a new experiance. So the girl could ride. The fact that theyweren't a stain on the road leading to burning wreckage was testimate to that fact.
It was kind of funny actualy. Normally he would be furious. He woulnd't let Silk ride his bike and here he had a woman do just that, even if he was on it as well. Even the satallite dish fiasco should have at least Irked him.

'Always was a sucker for a pretty face. No offence Silk'
Marcus thought. Subconciously cringing as he expected a frying pan to wallop him in the head.
Getting his Bike almost to top speed, Marcus screamed down the empty street, creating a violent wake of splashing water behind him.

“THIS BIKE IS AWESOME!”

"Oh hun, You ain't seen nothin yet."
Marcus replied with a mischevious grin as he pulled his Softail into a hard 90 degree turn into one of those Parking lot buildings (Marcus didn't know the official name for em.) and zipped between concrete support pillars as he found the ramp that slowly but surely lead to the top. It was nice and dry in here, perfect to show off some moves on every level.

[Delilah A. Black]

“Oh hun, You ain't seen nothin yet.”

His voice was right in her ear, warming her with his breath in spite of the rain and cold. The grin she heard in his voice made a grin of her own split wide across her face.

True Gentleman suddenly turned the bike at a harsh angle. She felt the rear tire glide over the layer of moisture on the road and panicked for a moment before he made it clear he was still very much in control. She would have taken a moment to reflect admiringly on that, but there was the matter of EPIC STUNT DRIVING that needed to be considered before she could do so.

She hung on tight as he wove them through concrete pillars and debris in the parking garage, laughing gleefully all the while. If she were stupid enough, she could have held out a hand to brush a few of them as they came within inches of them. Seeing the ramp that lead them to the top only made her more excited. More space equaled more stunts, more stunts equaled MORE AWESOME BIKE TIMES.

She turned her head slightly to direct her voice at him, “NICE! Now show me what the Lady can do!”

[Marcus Prasad]

{OOC} Ack! Sorry I took so long T_T Kept trying to come up with this big long list of cool stuff. Unfortunatly I realized it all Essentialy boiled down to 'Marcus drives fast and crazy' Written all pretty >.< {OOC}

“NICE! Now show me what the Lady can do!”

Ask and ye shall recieve! Marcus barely ever touched the brakes as he glided around the parking lot, passing inches from pillars of which he slolomed between and continuing to make his spiraling way upwards to the top, the walls and railings so close that passanger and driver could reach out and kick them.

Soon they were once again exposed to the rain as they reached the open air up top. Marcus stopped the bike and let it idle for a few minutes, head held skywards as he let the rain wash down onto his face. He was breathing deep and slowly.
"Make sure your nice and secured for this one. I'm about to go into hard mode."
He said with a monotone voice as he lowered his head and looked forward. His minds eye conjouring an image of a particular white pickup truck that immediatly began zooming back down the concrete spiraling ramp to the bottom.

Marcus knew the phantom driver. He had been a passenger in Silk Sanada's infernal truck long enough to be able to use her as a bizzare training tool. An opponent he could race against at will.
Spraying water in a massive cascade behind him, Marcus peeled out and shot forward after the white ghost truck.

His eyes were wide and razor sharp in thier focus. If he was driving crazy before, he was almost suicidal now as he pulled every trick in the racing book to keep up. There was an almost Reckless desperation in his style now. No matter how many times he tried, he was never able to BEAT Silk in a race. Keep up with her, yes. But never defeate. Mostly because she was ALWAYS willing to out crazy him and take risks Marcus would never think of trying.

Like how his ghost truck suddenly drove over the barricade of the third story via a conveniantly placed wooden ramp and vaulted over the edge to the street below. Not one to be outdone, Marcus barreled right on ahead, bracing himself as his beloved softail shot right over the edge and into empty air.

For a sickening moment, time seemed to slow down to a crawl as the man began to make a thousand quick shifts in weight and wheel position as he scoped out where he was going to land. It looked like he was going to hit the ground right at the mouth of an alleyway.

Perfect.

Lucky for them both the man had the foresight to fix up the suspensions as much as he could. Still, that only helped slightly when the jarring impact sent his spinal cord up out through the back of his neck. Both rider and passenger were nearly bucked clean off the Softail before Marcus was able to regain control, pulling the bike from a 90 degree angle and straightening it out as they shot through the damp dark alley, barely missing dumpsters and barrelling through a stack of Boxes someone carelessly left out in the open.

The truck came out of the alley almost sideways, with Marcus in hot pursuit just behind. Rain spattering against his face as he periodicaly reached up to wipe the raindrops off his goggles.
"Having fun yet?"
Marcus teased, his eyes staying on the road and locked on his imaginary quarry.

[Delilah A. Black]

((OOC: Don't be silly. This is more than enough to work off of. ONWARD!!))



She crowed with laughter as he swerved through the parking garage and up the various stories to the top. Being on a bike, driving at crazy insane speeds through urban California reminded her of the old days, the ones that lay long forgotten in the dusty boxes of her memory. It was exhilarating.

Eventually, they made it to the top and the rain started soaking them again. They rolled to a gentle stop and Delilah could finally hear again. Her breath was coming in ragged, excited gasps, her heart hammering against her rib cage, a silly grin plastered on her face. The rain now felt nice against her hot skin, the air cooling her from the inside out.

"Make sure your nice and secured for this one. I'm about to go into hard mode."

Eh?

She cast a sideways glance over her shoulder at him. The sense she got from The Gentleman was suddenly...different. More determined. She readied herself, bracing her arms with bent elbows on the handle bars in front of her and loosening her abs.

Not a moment later, they were speeding back down the ramp to the bottom, faster than they were before. She didn't even have time to scream in delight, and even if she had, her voice would have been whipped away from her mouth on the wind streaming past them.

And then on the third floor, there it was. A thick wooden slat on the edge of the barrier on the third floor. A ramp. As soon as she spotted it, she realized they were headed for it.

Dear God, this is how I die.

She let out another peal of wild laughter as they went airborne.

The sensation of being aloft, that feeling just before the inevitable fall occurs was invigorating to say the least. That feeling of weightlessness, of being insubstantial churned her stomach and made her heart race.

And then they were plummeting.

This was the part Delilah hated most about taking flying leaps off of buildings into the great unknown. Falling was one of the worst and best feelings in the world. The exhilaration was one thing. Knowing that the unforgiving cement awaited them below was another story.

She couldn't help it: She closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact.

The contact from hitting the ground at such a high speed sent a shock up her spine and made her boobs bounce painfully. She cringed at the sensation. She had forgotten about those. Fortunately, she had been busy being distracted with staying on the damn bike!!

Delilah only had a moment to cast a harried look over her shoulder at him before they were off again, winding through an alley at the same crazy speed. She reveled in the boxes scattering around them as they barreled through them. Rain was running into her eyes, but she kept them wide open and fixed on what was ahead of her, her hands fixed firmly on the handlebars ahead of her. She kept her arms loose to follow The Gentleman's pattern of steering closely, paying attention on more levels than she was aware of. She might be able to recall later, but this was quite an experience.

It helped that he – warm and preventing much of the rain that hit her – was behind her, maneuvering the bike with expertise and remarkable ease not with his arms, but with his body. Like it was instinctual. It was most impressive.

They pulled out of the alley quickly, tires squealing against the wet asphalt from the sheer momentum.

“Having fun yet?”

Delilah barked with laughter again. “Are you kidding?! 'Fun' was about ten minutes ago! There isn't even a word for this!”

But as her eyes travelled up the road, near the warehouse district, she noticed what appeared to be a dead end up the road. She nodded at it and called back, “Now what?”