Post by evigalina on Jan 26, 2010 7:59:01 GMT -5
Song - You're Going Down by Sick Puppies
Define your meaning of war
To me it’s what we do when we’re bored
I feel the heat comin’ off of the blacktop
And it makes me want it more
Because I’m hyped up out of control
If it’s a fight, I’m ready to go
I wouldn’t put my money on the other guy
If you know what I know that I know
It’s been a long time coming
And the table’s turned around
‘Cause one of us is going
One of us is going down
I’m not running,
It’s a little different now
‘Cause one of us is going
One of us is going down
Tire’s turned, kicking up dust and rocks as the speedometer hits 76 miles an hour. The roaring of the motorcycle filled the air around the rider, but the rider didn’t hear it. Leather gloves with the finger’s cut out exposed black nail polished fingers. The polish was cracked, showing its been on for awhile. The black leather of the bike suit was worn down showing signs of wear and tear along various spots. Strapped to the front was an old cassette player which had seen better days, being held together with scotch tape and duck tape, its wheels were turning as well. Wires leading up to the head of the figure, covered in a black helmet which shows gashes of skid marks and god knows what else may have come in contact with it. Inside the helmet, the figure was listening to the song; the band was a UK band. For the rider, it was a familiar band and the song fit the attitude that was currently present. The Welcome To New York sign had just passed a few minutes ago and quite frankly that was exciting. Wonder, just how bad the city was. It didn’t matter; all that mattered was the opportunity to see the place where thousands of her own people had seen when they came to the states. Normally, people would fear deportation but who in their right mind was going do such a thing at this point? Already, the bridge was coming into view down the long paths of dirt and rubble that laid before the rider. Having to turn the wheel now and then to avoid being tossed aside from the rubble. The pouches at the side of the bike rattled with various things collected through the travels from West Coast to East Coast.Define your meaning of fun
Is it fucking, drugging or guns
I feel the heat comin’ off of the blacktop
So get ready for another one
Let’s take a trip down memory lane
(Do you remember me?)
The words circling in my brain
(And what you did to me)
You can treat this like another all the same
But don’t cry like a bitch when you feel the pain
The song cut out, and it slowed down. The batteries of the cassette player had reached its end and now it was leaving behind nothing more than a whining sound. It was frustrating, hadn’t been able to find any other batteries in order to further enjoy the music, but then again there were no plans on traveling any further. Rumors were of a place in this city that you could call home. Front wheel of the bike popped up as it climbed onto the bridge, hands tightened on the gas of the bike and the speedometer was now reading 80 miles an hour. One hand moved and grabbed a hold of the cassette player and tore it from the side, it was taped on, and with a tug, the entire thing pulled free, ear plugs popping out from under the edge of the helmet and a toss the item flew off the side of the rider and over the edge of the bridge and into the river below. Oh well, maybe there was something else in the city that was worth entertaining than just the beat up old cassette player. Through the darkness of the helmet screen a set of eyes watched as the city came further and further into view. It was an unfortunate feeling that perhaps, seeing the big old lady wasn’t going to be possible, but maybe she would find some of her own people here as well. To be the only pure blooded Irish would be such a petty right about now.
The engine roared as the bike hopped over a bump that indicated you were off the bridge and back onto the streets. A shiver passed through the rider’s body as they came to realize where it was they were now. Invigorating wasn’t even the word that could properly describe how they felt. It felt really good to be here, even if here wasn’t a place they had ever seen before. Didn’t matter, as the wheel turned they went further down the streets of the city, letting the crumbled buildings that laid around them reflect along the damaged helmet as the set of eyes watching was looking for any movements. “Oi!” Cried out a woman’s voice as suddenly turning the corner onto another street a figure was caught standing there at last minute. A quick turn of the wheel caused the bike to skid, and applying the brakes made the bike cripple to the side sending the rider onto a twisting tumble behind the bike as they finally came to a devastating stop against a pile of rubble. One tire of the bike still spun, as smoke came pouring from its engine. Least it wasn’t running anymore, that would have been devastating. The rider was still a moment, lying on their back before reaching a hand up to slap the side of the helmet. They looked at their exposed fingers; knuckles were bleeding from having skid against the ground. They rolled onto the side and slowly, began to stand up. Normally, a person wouldn’t have been able to walk away from such an accident, but the rider wasn’t normal to begin with. As they stood, they stumbled a moment and now both hands reached up and pulled at the helmet to remove it from the head.
Red vibrant hairs with curled texture come tumbling down from the helmet and stopping at the middle of the back in length. “…Bluudy ‘ell….” She said, her accent thick and Irish as she looked at the bike. The clap of her heavy boots echoed as she kicked slightly at the spinning wheel to make it stop. Turning her head, a set of emerald green eyes that stuck out against the lightly freckled face turned towards where she had last thought she seen a figure. Was she dreaming? Maybe the traveling had been playing with her eyes and she crashed her bike for nothing. For the very first time, she hoped it wasn’t in vain that her bike was going to need some tender love and care. Oddly, she didn’t normally wish anything bad upon anyone else but to think she was seeing things would bother her. Hell, she isn’t even drunk and normally that was the best part when you were all liquored up.