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((RP continued in Central City Thread))

On the outer edges of the Field, a choked cloud of dust and grit settles to the road. A burned and beaten dirt bike idles with it's driver perched on the seat like a hawk with a cigarette in its mouth watching the city beyond. The 'hawk' tosses the cigarette to the ground, grinds it to pieces with his boot. He says to no one in particular, "Home. Haven't been 'home' in...hell...I don't know."

He glances behind himself, sighs, and puts the rest of the cigarettes into a jacket pocket. "You knew you had to come back sometime, Trau. No use fighting it."

The 'hawk,' Trau, pulls the gas mask down over his face and revs the bike's throttle."I could use a drink anyway."

He kicks more dust up as he takes off into The Butcher's Field.

~~Continued from Central City~~

Trau came into the small tent with a younger woman, probably in her early twenties with long, black hair, and passed in front of a fire. She handed the man a blanket, smiled, and then left. He noticed that the man was coming down...hard. He nodded, offered the man a flask, and then motioned to the sound of music and singing coming from outside the tent. "Rominchal...gypsies. The original low-tek nomads. The people are real angels; if they owe you, you have a friend for life. If you cross them, you have the worst kind of enemy."

He let the man take the flask and then nodded. "It's just water, and they're friends. Now, you said you have a story?"

Trau watched the man for a moment, and then nodded. After seeing the claws he sported, he didn't plan on touching anything on this guy to begin with...but if it let him rest easier, then so be it. He shrugged. "Here is fine. We could stay here for the week, but then they move again. You're lucky they were in town."

Trau stood. "I'm going out to speak with a few people; you're considered under my care, so no one will take your things. On a similiar note, I won't attempt taking anything of theirs...bike or no. Although they may not have explosives wired to their gear, taking one of their things would set them off all the same. Good evening."

Trau left the tent.

"You were not expected to be here," said the old man to Trau. Trau just nodded and took a drink from a bottle. "You said you were not coming back."

"Yeah, well I get around just like you. And, well, this place was sort of an accident," said Trau. Part of it was true, but the other half was a little less of an accident than he'd like to let on. Part of the truth was curiosity, but the other part was a longing. He wanted to see the city again. He wanted to look at what he missed when he went with the German.

The old man took a long drag off of a cigarette, and then tossed the butt into the fire. "Who is your friend?"

"I don't know if I'd call him 'friend,' Ruke. I just sort of happened on him."

A smile cracked the old man's face. "A nomad doesn't just happen on other nomads in the middle of a giant city, Trau."

"Well, I was going after these disrespectful punks...a pair of motorcycle junkies. I think they were Chromers."

The old man nodded. "Your sense of chivalry got the best of you. Someday it will get you killed."

"Probably. Anyway, turns out they were after him when they buzzed me. It was an unfair fight, so I thought it best to get him out of there until he could play on a more even playing field."

"Very noble."

Trau shrugged. Noble, maybe...maybe he felt sorry for him. Maybe he recognized something in him. Whatever the case, it just didn't seem right to have that many guys against one.

~after easily finding a canteen, a bottle of asprin, and more than one smile, Leadstorm found himself feeling more than a small sense of longing for the past. 'I should have protected them. I should have been there to stop it, they're all dead because I was off joyriding...

Flashback
"You're full of it, Tribe Boy, No one can beat Chaz on his home course" The crowd responded to his boast "Hey, it's all just dirt, cement, and rubble, what does it matter where the turf is? Either way I'll take the checkered and your cash" Leadstorm responded. At that the line was drawn in the dirt, and the bikes pulled up. The flag girl tossed a helmet into the air, and Leadstorm activated his adrenal implant. The moment it hit the ground he was gone, but the local biker gang's leader, the guy they'd called 'Chaz', was right beside him. The others lagged behind. 'It's okay, I can take him on the jumps and the curves' He thought to himself He slammed the turbo as they approached the first jump. 'Fly high, land in front' he told himself as his back wheel left the mound of concrete. The sky was filled with Gyros as he looked over the horizon, past the crumbling buildings blocking the horizon at ground level.
'Keep your mind on the race' He scolded himself as the bike landed and they started into a tigt turn Leadstorm accelrated through the curve, while Chaz pulled back. 'amateur' He thought to himself 'I've been riding since I was old enough to walk, and he thinks he can outride me?' the track 'S'ed back and then went into a straightaway. 'Time to spread your wings and move on' he said to himself as he bored out the throttle He burned the turbo again as he started up the ramp, then flew into the air again, and found him looking in the direction of the 'Birds' he had seen before. 'That looks like an attack formation' he thought to himself, then shook it off. If he won, the family would eat like kings tonight... Hard right, over the moguls, another hard right, and gun it to the finish. All he had to do was hit the jump with enough speed to clear the wall in front of him and it was over. As he sailed into the air one last time he realised where the gyros were heading, and saw the first shots light up the dusktime sky. "My Pack! He exclaimed, then hit the ground to the sound of the cheering crowd. Tears filled his eyes and he climbed on the throttle harder, blowing past the finish line, the cash waiting for him, and his competition's friends, waiting no doubt to beat their losses out of him. None of it mattered, He had to get back to his pack.
end flashback
~Leadstorm shook off the memory, and walked overto a nearby fire, tears forming in his still fleshy eye.~

~Leadstorm brushed the mosture away from his eye and nodded. "I'll Survive for now" He said, which is all anyone could really say anymore. "So what brings you to the city? And more importantly, what's your next move?"