|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Sep 26, 2010 10:32 pm
Ellie was just itching for action today. It would have seemed like a normal day, but she really wanted to do something crazy fun. Any of her friends could easily vouch that the blonde's idea of "fun" was a bit more reckless than what most people would consider fun. She was known to start fights and come back home with bruises and a big grin on her face. Apparently, that was considered fun.
Today's idea of fun involved The Spectrum. Her 2003 Honda Rc211v was an easy way to have fun, since all she had to do was slip her helmet on and ride around the town at the fastest speeds she could manage. Sure, her bike was a bit unorthodox, since she had that small section of rainbow painted along the back, but it was still a damned good bike for casual riding or racing.
She wasn't aware that she had been doing it, but as she rode around the city, the tomboy was subconsciously seeking out someone else on a bike. Obviously if she found someone on a bike, they'd be willing to race.
Maybe they'd be willing to ride through...
The Maze.
Ellie felt a tingle run down her spine. With her bulky biker jacket, her helmet over her head and hair tucked away, it was almost impossible to identify her as a girl. She sped past one stoplight only to get stopped by another one.
And that's when she saw it. A 2010 Dyna Wide Glide. The black vehicle was next to her at the stoplight. Even with a quick glance over, she could tell that there had been some customization to the vehicle. It was very classy. She then glanced up slightly from the bike to the rider.
Without a second thought, the girl revved her engine. It was the universal signal that she wanted to race.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Sep 27, 2010 3:08 pm
Brass was living the boring day of a boring week, without any expectation of finding decent entertainment anytime soon. He didn’t felt like drawing, didn’t felt like playing, but he did felt like the world was sinking it’s weight onto his chest, slapping the energy out of him. His old man was nagging again, he kept asking him to go grab the Hayabusa parts he bought.
“Go grab it yourself” He said in response, without looking away from the bedroom ceiling.
Brass had nothing else to do, but he wasn’t going to play delivery boy. After a whole day listening to that constant yelling, he got fed up. He slipped his favorite leather jacket, rushed down the stairs, put his black helmet, sat on the bike and searched for some peace outside.
There was some traffic, but not much, leaving decent space to cut through the cars. The sound of his bike was soothing, it’s gentle roaring freed his mind of any disturbance. He let himself dive into the sensation, his mind wandered free to better lands, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty.
He eventually stopped by a traffic light, rested a foot on the pavement and kept dreaming. That’s when he heard something, something good. He turned his head and saw a beast, a yellow and black 2003 Honda Rc211v, looking like one evil wasp… except for the rainbow at its rear end. Still, the rider looked serious; he or she was revving that machine, challenging Brass for a race.
Hot blood rushed through his bored self, he answered back speeding his baby, smoking the rear tire. That road would lead to a windy section called The Maze, every rider’s dream or nightmare, that’s probably where this was going to. The green light would be the start flag; he looked forward, gripped the bars as the adrenaline kicked in and waited for the right moment.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Sep 27, 2010 10:58 pm
A grin easily spread across the tomboy's face behind her helmet. She had a bite. Fire seemed to burn through her blood as she waited for the light to turn green, and the moment she saw a hint of the correct color, she let it RIP!
Whoever her opponent was, he seemed to be able to read her mind. Or maybe he just knew the area really well and knew it was the only racing strip in the immediate area? Whatever reason they had found the Maze did not seem to matter. Almost eagerly, Ellie increased the gas, leaning into the first turn. For a moment, she got a brief flash of tingling across her cheek as she remembered a particular nightmare she had a while back.
As she tipped herself back upright and whipped into another turn, she logically reminded herself she was wearing a helmet. Her face wouldn't rip off nearly as easily with a helmet on. As intensely as her gold eyes were concentrating on the road ahead of her, the tomboy had already lost all sense of which direction she was heading now. She didn't mind how disorienting the path was. However, she did see out of the corner of her eye that the sleek black chopper was seeming to make easy work of the Maze.
Looks are deceiving. She'd been told before by another biker that apparently she made the Maze look easy.
It never was.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 28, 2010 7:05 pm
When the light went green, Brass twisted the throttle so fast it would stagger any common bike. Though this was a Harley, probably the strongest bike he ever rode. Both he and his opponent left behind a large trail of smoke and mayhem behind. Cutting through, passing gears on and on, Brass followed the rider to the Maze. He was right, it would all happen in the Maze.
He had best memories of this place. The last time he visited, he broke three ribs, cracked his left arm and lost his favorite helmet. Good times.
He was smarter this time, he wouldn’t let the road trick him again, he was smarter, faster, better, stronger.
Brass tried multiple times to overtake the rider, but it was nearly impossible to catch the timing on that road. He slowed down as he reached the curve and waited for the split second where he would have an opening, tipping to the side slowly. It happened, he reacted, the Harley roared and the rider was overtaken.
It won’t last long, I can’t get cocky.
He hit the gas and the Harley propelled, eating the asphalt like a wild beast. He could hear how near the rider was by the scream of his bike, coming closer and closer. His eyes were looking forward, always focused; he couldn’t forget the tricks of the track.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 28, 2010 8:18 pm
Part of the challenge of the Maze was the fact it was a two way road. It wasn't merely a race track for the kids who liked to live on the edge. No. A good number of people actually had to drive through the Maze on a daily basis to get to and from work each day. Due to the level of danger with this particular road, it was mandatory for the cars to have their headlights on, even during the daytime.
So as the two bikers rounded another turn, it wasn't a surprise when a car went zipping past them in the opposite direction. Okay, it might have been a surprise for their eyes, which complained bitterly at the sudden flash of lights.
"F*ck!" The best the blonde could hope to do was keep concentrating on the road and ignore the sudden flashes of color trying to distract her from the current game. Losing this game was never a good thing, since usually if someone "lost" it meant they drove over the edge of the road. Her vehicle wobbled slightly into the other lane, but she quickly adjusted to turn back into the proper side of the road.
Keep going.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Sep 29, 2010 7:56 pm
That road was starting to challenge Brass more then he could ever expect. The traffic was waving from low to intense, he could never guess when a car or even a truck would show up to f*ck his day. The bike was handling okay so far, no signs of stress or anything. In the back of his mind, Brass was always calculating things, especially when it came to motorcycles. He could understand them by riding, listening to their roar, how the motor vibrated through the framework, how it responded to every change of gear. His bike was on its limit, but it was doing okay… more than okay, it was amazing.
His adversary was quickly catching up, by the time he noticed he was right next to him, dancing through the random cars. They seemed to be synced; they dodged the traffic much like a rehearsed choreography. Focus, man, focus. Do you wanna die here or what?
Out of the blue a large truck turned up ahead, taking more space than it should. His rival seemed to have enough space to go through, but brass was on the other side of the road, he would have to do something, and do it quick. His only option was to hit the gas and pray.
“Holy s**t!”
He made it. He got this close - I mean, seriously, this close - from being squeezed between the truck and the concrete wall. He wasn’t safe though, he had an entire road ahead and more of this s**t was bound to happen.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Sep 30, 2010 10:23 pm
Trucks were never afraid to honk at potential roadkill. That's what a motorcyclist was to a large truck. Merely roadkill. Ellie slipped past the truck, not even really thinking about the possible dangers of the other vehicles once she past it.
That was until she heard the low pitched horn.
Kid, you can't afford to get sloppy up here! she mentally scolded. She didn't look behind her, because that would just be her own way of asking for death on such a road. Eyes stayed on the road. Wandering eyes meant a wandering bike that mostly likely wandered off the road. All she could do was keep going and listen.
Listen.
Listen.
There was no sickening sound of any sort of metal-on-metal grating against each other, so there obviously hadn't been any accident. However, there wasn't even enough time to mentally sigh out in relief. No, another sharp turn under a rather shallow cliff-side here and a wide turn that tempted all vehicles to take a dive into the rocks below prevented passing gestures or thoughts. If Ellie had been the sort who enjoyed turning off the road to take a look at the scenery, it would have been breathtaking.
That sort of stuff was meant for girls.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 01, 2010 9:13 pm
After almost dying Brass was having a hard time balancing the bike, he went too fast to stay alive and entered the curve at full speed. A huge wall of rock was ahead of him, he got out of the frying pan, into the fire.
Purely out of reflex, he leaned as much as he could and turned the Harley, but it was too heavy to change direction that easily. It hit sideways into the wall, but not with the body, the sudden inclination made it hit with much of the wheels. Once the tires hit the rock, Brass saw the opportunity and hit the gas, hurling the bike into the curve, almost reaching the edge before getting back to the asphalt.
Thank you, lady luck, thank you
All that trouble made Brass fall behind too much. He twisted the throttle and cut through the traffic as he could, completely forget how he almost died two times in a row. The headlights flashed ahead, but his helmet was tinted, so they didn’t bothered him that much, not when he was this fast.
He reached his opponent, side by side, running as if the world was crumbling behind them. Nothing could feel better than this, nothing. He was smiling like he never did before, this was the best race of his life and it kept getting better and better.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 02, 2010 11:42 am
In all honesty, the Maze was much more of a challenge when one was racing against someone else. Especially when someone was trying to pass the other up. Normally, one got the full benefit of half of the road, which made the turns more forgiving since one simply had more space. Yet, now with the second rider edging up towards her side, it was half of the normal space she was adjusted to. Those hairpin turns were all the more tricky. The obstacles were all the more hazardous. Everything got kicked up a notch due to having half the usual working space.
She could see the black chopper from the edge of her vision. It was a .5 second distraction, and that honestly was not what threw her off her game. No, it was the knowledge that he was there that threw her off.
Ellie had been called so many things in her lifetime. Lots of times, they were various curses and insults. Yet one thing nobody could call her was a "dirty player." She never fought dirty, she never used cheap tricks against her opponent. It was never about always winning. It was always about the challenge. Using dirty tricks didn't mean you truly won using your own skills. No, it was the trick that won.
Being so close to the other rider's bike, she could have easily attempted to nudge him towards the direction of the wall or the metal railing "protecting" everyone from toppling over the edge of the cliffs. Instead, she simply kept to worrying about her own ride.
At least, she tried to.
There was a narrow passageway ahead that was framed by a jagged rocks. There was no way the two of them could pass through at the same time.
No way at all.
Her lips stretched out into a thin line behind her helmet and she did something she usually wouldn't have. She slowed down. The tomboy attempted to let the other rider pass her so she could file in behind him and pass the passageway as well, but her timing was off. Her opponent made it through fine.
The Spectrum was not so lucky. It was too far off to the side when it came to her passing through, and so the sound of metal being cut up by jagged rocks soon filled the air. The right side of her bike felt like it was being dragged back since the rocks along the passageway were an unmoving force. Ellie grit her teeth and concentrated on one thing: making it out of the passageway. If she panicked now, she'd more than likely take a wonderful trip down the edge of a mountain. Not the best way to end a race. Her fingers gripped rightly to the handles as she made certain to steer carefully.
"F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck!!!" she groaned as she finally made her way out of the passageway. The Spectrum was still running, but it definitely was not in top condition after such abuse. Grudgingly, the blonde had to pull over at the next turnout. She hadn't made it to the top, but she had most definitely lost. She sighed heavily as she pulled off her helmet so she could get a good look at what she was going to have to fix. "...we were so close to finishin'... maybe another mile and we would'a finished!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 02, 2010 1:13 pm
Brass couldn’t understand exactly why his opponent slowed down. It definitely wasn’t moved by fear, you had to be really brave or really dumb to face the maze, so it had to be something else.
He lost track of his thoughts when the sound of rock grinding metal. He couldn’t look back, he wanted to, he had to make sure the other rider was okay, but he couldn’t look back or he would face a similar fate.
Once through the narrow passage he turned his bike around, drifting 180° and leaving behind large tire marks on the asphalt. Brass had never met the guy before, but he was undeniably worried about him.
Turning around he saw the rider pulling over, he was safe, but the bike was ripped to shreds. Brass let go a small sigh, relieved that his challenger was safe. He twisted the throttle and approached him, to finally meet the guy. That’s when he pulled the helmet off. I mean, she pulled the helmet off. It was a girl… and a pretty one, actually.
Brass pulled his own helmet, stood up and walked towards the girl, staring deep into her golden eyes, watching how her figure became feminine without losing strength. He never met such an interesting girl before; she definitely won all the respect he could possibly give to someone. Bras was used to frail and squeamish girls, this was a good surprise. He had to know her name, he had to race her again.
Once reaching her, he took his glove off, stretched his arm and offered his hand for a handshake.
“You’re the best rider I’ve ever met.” He said, smiling like he rarely did. “Let’s call this a tie.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 02, 2010 1:33 pm
The tall girl had ducked down to analyze the ruined side of her vehicle. The left side looked fine, but the right side was thrashed. She would have been happy with just mere scratches to the paint job. Instead, she had several deep cuts across the surface of the metal. She was going to have to replace several panels, and probably replace some vital parts as well to make sure she was running at 100% again. This was going to set back her work on the Vortex by at least 2 weeks if she was lucky.
At first, her opponent's sudden screeching turn went ignored as she mentally began trying to calculate out what she was going to need to do. Which parts was she going to need? How she was going to shuffle her time around so she could get some quality work time on the Spectrum? Her Mom was going to freak if she found out. Dad, not so much, since he viewed her vehicles as her property, so they were her responsibility. Oh god, and Hank would probably try to give her some sort of fatherly talk. Those were torture and a half! Phil was probably going to tease her a bit too.
"You're the best rider I've ever met."
Gold eyes shot up to the boy that approached.
"You won, fair and square."
The tomboy scowled before spitting to the side, making a small damp blob on the dirt. She stood herself back up to her feet and looked at the hand warily. Certainly, she wasn't going to refuse such a greeting, but at the same time, she seemed more careful about it than usual. She pushed her hand forward to meet his and shook, slowly, but firmly. The tomboy definitely knew how to give a man's handshake.
"Don't sugarcoat that sorta sh*t," her voice said sourly. "I didn't win a damned thing and ya know it." She took her hand back.
"Only pussies need that sorta crap sugarcoated for'em."
She was obviously distracted, for her eyes easily seemed to drift back to her bike. "Name's Ellie by the way." The blonde wasn't even looking at him as she introduced herself. "Yer pretty good yerself."
She still wasn't looking at him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 02, 2010 2:36 pm
“I wasn’t sugarcoating anything.” Brass crooked an eyebrow. “You screwed up your bike when you should’ve pushed my a** out of the cliff. That was really dumb, but hey, thanks for sparing my a** back there.”
“You can call me Brass.” He said back, kneeling to check the damage on the bike. “I know”
He analyzed the bike as best as he could. These crotch rockets where out of his expertise, but they were still bikes. “You got your ride pretty f*cked up, didn’t you?” He said, peeking through the large carvings on the metal. “That side and lower fairing is garbage now, the clutch cover was almost ripped off and the muffler is bent. I have no idea how you still have your leg. More importantly, it’ll be hell to fix this.”
She was bearing it better than any men he knew would, but still, you could tell she was freaking out. That bike probably was as important to her as Bahamut was to him.
“Look, I have Honda parts back in the workshop for that bike and others that could work as temporary replacements.” He said, taking a piece of paper and writing down the address “I want to help, so don’t pull that ‘sugarcoating’ crap on me again.”
He tucked the paper at the gap of the windscreen, put on the helmet and left to get his bike. A twist of the throttle and he was gone.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 02, 2010 3:24 pm
Brass was obviously a nickname. Nobody named their kid such awesome names like Brass. Unless someone was playing one of those stupid Pokemon games where the kids were named stupid things like RED and BLUE. That was about all of Ellie's knowledge about those games anyway.
At the moment, the teenage girl was rolling her eyes at what this guy was spouting out. He was stating the most OBVIOUS things. No sh*t her ride got f*cked up! She didn't need to be told exactly what needed to be fixed on her ride, and she didn't need the obvious sympathetic it'll be hell to fix this from Brass.
Even his offer of assistance went noted the wrong way. I ain't a charity case, douchebag, she sourly thought to herself as he prepared to ride away. So as Brass and his 2010 Dyna Wide Glide left, the girl rather easily crinkled up the paper he had written on and tucked it somewhere in her jacket. Like hell she was actually going to take any charity. Her bike meant her work.
Her fingers carefully tapped the body of her bike, as if trying to reassure the vehicle like an animal. "Alright... let's get ya down th' Maze now." With a sigh, she put her helmet back on. Her vehicle could still run, even if it was not nearly as fast as usual. This was going to be the longest ride down the Maze she'd ever experience, and by the time she got down the road, there were at least twenty cars behind her honking up a storm at the slow motorcyclist.
They all got flipped the bird.
[FIN]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
