Ashes and Ascension - A Freeform RPG

[Nik Hasta]

Friends and familiars, I've got the text-based RPG itch at the moment but I know - and my shockingly terrible record on this front will attest - that it won't last long enough for me to dive into a serious commitment, much less run a game (My apologies to all of those who signed up to Underbelly again only for it to die in the preshow).

So, to scratch my itch and to potentially create a bit of a freeform space for creative RP work; I'm making this little thread. If people decide to play along or I need to keep track of stuff I'll make a Character Sheet thread or something but this is for mostly disposable stuff and workshopping. I don't have strong opinions about power scale exactly or setting or whatever, but I guess try and work with one another and allow space for things to happen through narrative.

Feel free to jump in, the water is bracing and 2020 seems like a good year to work on cultivating more collaborative storytelling.

With all that said, I'll write something. Feeling something like... 90s anime-ish in flavour to jump off with.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No one knew where they came from but their presence was always heralded by fire. At first a pinprick of it on the wall, a little spot of smoldering fire like the tip of a lit cigarette being pushed against paper. If you saw that and ran, then you might just live. If you didn't spot it then you'd certainly see the burning gateway to beyond that would open around half a minute later. By that time it was too late and you'd either have to fight or you'd die or worse yet be dragged through to whatever lay on the other side. No one who was taken ever came back.

All that was left behind was the ashes.

The traditional systems of power had been attacked first, governance fell on a global scale. A surgical calculated strike. While they were content to attack, they didn't tend to stick around for too long or set up any kind of outposts. This wasn't a conquest, not yet anyway. They were also meeting stiff resistance from persons of consequence and personal power. The secret folk, those who had been touched by the paranatural and been changed by it; shadowy organisations, costumed heroes, myths, legends and ordinary people with particular skills that fell outside the ordinary, they all fought back in their own way.

Johanna was one of them.

Currently, she was running for her life across a rooftop, dodging bullets once again.

It was supposed to have been a routine run. Contact a local gang in the city, try and get them to stop trying to use the chaos as an opportunity to powergrab and start working on trying to solve this mess. Simple enough, right? Turns out no. Boss of the gang turns out to have abilities - holder of one of the twelve swords of magic in this instance - and he was none to pleased with the implication that he should calm down and stop expanding his influence. They'd fought, Johanna had realised quickly that her own abilities weren't going to quite cut the mustard and now she was being chased by his impressively agile and heavily armed posse.

She leapt to the next rooftop, a bullet whistling past her ear rather too close for comfort. Twisting as she landed, she faced her pursuers and raised a hand in a swipe. The space next to the nearest one twisted for an instant and then an impact sent him flying off the roof. Johanna winced as he tumbled toward the street level, she hadn't meant to hit him quite that hard. Stabbing her other hand, her fingers in a claw-like pose, the space around the falling man suddenly crystalised and the man landed on the ground in a solid cube of translucent solidified space with a loud crash that left a crater in the pavement. Johanna released her grip and space became permeable once more and the man fell to the ground.

Her moment of mercy cost her. A bullet rammed into her shoulder knocking her off her feet.

As she fell, she twisted the space in the roof, causing a hole to appear in it momentarily. She landed heavily on someone's coffee table, smashing it to matchwood beneath her.

Well, this sucked.

It had been a long six months since the Burning had begun. Johanna worked alone because that's what she'd always done. But, here and now with a bullet in her shoulder? She needed help.

With her good arm, she reached up and grasped her throat. Her powers could allow her to transmit her voice through subspace. Reaching out for someone, anyone, who could help.

"If you can hear me," she said, her voice shaking just a little, "I've been shot and I'm surrounded in an apartment building on Peterman Avenue. I count like... five or six people with guns. Please, someone, help me,"

[Yun Lao]

As far back as humanity's collective memory could go, beyond written and oral history, to sensations imprinted into the very Id of the species itself, mankind has feared the dark and what lurked within. Whether it was a nocturnal predator that once preyed upon them or the personification of their own fleeting mortality, humanity used the dark to give an explanation to the fears of a world they did not understand. No matter the culture, whatever tragedy or inconvenience they suffered could be attributed to a demon or creature that went bump in the night. Even as time went on and those filled with courage and curiosity slain these monsters through the understanding just a bit more of the world, this nyctophobia persisted in every child that asked to sleep with their parents and every light illuminated with the slightest sound in the darkness.

This had been the natural order of things...

Until the fires came...

"If you can hear me," she said, her voice shaking just a little, "I've been shot and I'm surrounded in an apartment building on Peterman Avenue. I count like... five or six people with guns. Please, someone, help me,"

He knew them well, the apartment on Peterman Avenue; it was where she lived. Little Gemma so bright with curiosity, yet still insisted on sleeping with her small army of plush animals at night. She had been his child to nurture and watch grow, but that all changed when the fires took her and left him with only ashes. His misery and anguish had been replaced with a dark wrath by this point. A place of such fond, bittersweet memories had been tainted by the violence of trivial matters. These hunters were confident in their approach, two of which stepping aside to smoke a last cigarette or two in anticipation of the thrill of the kill. Tabacco in their lungs and pistols in their hands, they were fearless, believing themselves to be apex predators striding the earth on two legs. Needless to say, they well ill-equipped when it was their turn to become the prey.

A nearby door swung open, striking one of the gunmen with the force to knock him slightly off balance. Shrieking out a curse, he alongside he fellow raised their pistols and found themselves facing... a closet. Confusion clear upon their countenances, one gave away to a relieved chuckle, turning away to take a final drag of his smoke while the afflicted gunmen peered further in search of an explanation as to what happened. He would find it upon parting the clothes; a wall covered in blinking, abyss-filled eyes. Screaming in horror, he would not find salvation as numerous pale, lifeless hands seized him, dragging him within and closing the door behind.

The last of the duo left was obviously freaked out, especially after that scream, but his own logic was enough to steel his resolve as he cautiously reached for the closet door handle, his other hand pointing the pistol at it, "Yo, Robbie!" He called out, "This ain't the time to pulling pranks, man!" Pouring all of his courage and determination into it, he opened the door, allowing it to swing wide open as he scanned the tiny interior for signs of his fellow.

"What the ****?" He breathed out in astonishment, pushing aside the clothes hangers to find nothing, "Yo, this ain't funny Robbie, we don't have time for this ****!" He hissed, tossing various clothing and boxes aside and it was only upon completion of emptying it out did he recognize the sensation that he was being watched. Turning about, the gunman could only watch in horror as a previously discarded business suit began to rise, filling itself as if some invisible being were donning the apparel. Shouting out, several shots were fired but did little to dissuade the suit from stopping. From the suit's neck, wrists, and ankles came pouring out formless spouts of pitch-black, a mockery of the body parts usually seen. Another shot rang out but it would be far too late as the darkness rushed him, knocking both into the closet, quickly followed by the heavy slam of the door.

Little Gemma had once told her parents that her plush animals protected her from the boogieman; unfortunately for these men, there were no plush animals here.

[Tami]

It was a bar like any other, or perhaps he was to busy nursing his ale and his inner misery to bother noticing. Grant Street Tavern, despite a name more in line with fancier establishments in the financial district, was a dark hole in the wall. A place frequented by shady men and women in short dresses a few sizes too tight.

Drake didn't care, nothing mattered any more. His short lived career in law enforcement abruptly ended by a stray bullet and a young child looking out a window. He had known of corrupt cops, and cops who wantonly used excessive force just for the thrill of being able to get away with it. He had also known of brave cops, heroic cops who placed their own lives on the line. Those were the ones who inspired him to join the police force.

With a sad smirk and a sip of his drink, he wondered if he ever had it in him to be one of the good guys after all. The sight of the dead child should have filled him with grief, instead he felt numb and cold inside. It's been over a month since he was dismissed from the force, acquitted of any intent, yet thrown away as cover for the more senior Officers.

It's been a month and only now is the numbness beginning to fade, only now is the chill on his soul lessening somewhat.

"If you can hear me," she said, her voice shaking just a little, "I've been shot and I'm surrounded in an apartment building on Peterman Avenue. I count like... five or six people with guns. Please, someone, help me,"

He heard a voice, calling for help. The place was nearby, just around the corner. Standing up slowly, he took a final swig of his drink, then headed outside. In moments he was at the Apartment building, entering from the ground floor and making his way upstairs.

As a reflex, his hand reached for his sidearm, only to be reminded that it was taken from him at the same time he was forced to turn in his shield. Still he continued upward, heading towards the voices, in search of the one who called for help.

[Nik Hasta]

Little Gemma had once told her parents that her plush animals protected her from the boogieman; unfortunately for these men, there were no plush animals here.

Johanna heard the shots, she'd just about managed to drag herself upright since she sent the message. Something was happening to the men who'd been making their way inside, she felt... something... happen to the local space nearby. Someone or something seemed to have answered her call.

Gritting her teeth, she reached through her own shoulder, the skin and muscle warping open to allow her access. She bit back a scream until her fingers touched the bullet, fortunately in one piece and whipped it out. The wound would remain, she couldn't close that but at least the bullet was out. As she tried to awkwardly bandage her own shoulder, she peered into the darkness that seemed somehow thicker than before.

"Anyone there?" she said. She didn't call out exactly. Her previous message had been transmitted through subspace and would generally attract people who were attuned to the paranatural. Not all those people were nice and lot of them weren't even people.

She could help but wonder whether she'd made her situation worse.

He heard a voice, calling for help. The place was nearby, just around the corner. Standing up slowly, he took a final swig of his drink, then headed outside. In moments he was at the Apartment building, entering from the ground floor and making his way upstairs.

As a reflex, his hand reached for his sidearm, only to be reminded that it was taken from him at the same time he was forced to turn in his shield. Still he continued upward, heading towards the voices, in search of the one who called for help.

As Drake mounted the stairs, he saw a young man who was obviously keeping watch. A twitchy hand was resting on the handle of a gun tucked into the front of his trousers. He hadn't spotted Drake approaching yet, his eyes were skittishly looking up as the recent gunshots had spooked him a little.

[Yun Lao]

... As she tried to awkwardly bandage her own shoulder, she peered into the darkness that seemed somehow thicker than before.

"Anyone there?" she said. She didn't call out exactly. Her previous message had been transmitted through subspace and would generally attract people who were attuned to the paranatural. Not all those people were nice and lot of them weren't even people.

She could help but wonder whether she'd made her situation worse.

The darkness heard her question and its response was the soft, prolonged creak of the closet door opening up and from it came two large objects that fell to the ground with heavy thuds. Further inspection of these objects would reveal them to be two of her assailants, their bodies cold and their faces masked with twisted, contorted visages that spoke of the unspeakable horror that befell them.

Curiously, on the nearby bed would Johanna find their weapons neatly placed, a gift for her to even the odds against those remaining, perhaps.

[Tami]

Johanna heard the shots, she'd just about managed to drag herself upright since she sent the message. Something was happening to the men who'd been making their way inside, she felt... something... happen to the local space nearby. Someone or something seemed to have answered her call.

Gritting her teeth, she reached through her own shoulder, the skin and muscle warping open to allow her access. She bit back a scream until her fingers touched the bullet, fortunately in one piece and whipped it out. The wound would remain, she couldn't close that but at least the bullet was out. As she tried to awkwardly bandage her own shoulder, she peered into the darkness that seemed somehow thicker than before.

"Anyone there?" she said. She didn't call out exactly. Her previous message had been transmitted through subspace and would generally attract people who were attuned to the paranatural. Not all those people were nice and lot of them weren't even people.

She could help but wonder whether she'd made her situation worse.



As Drake mounted the stairs, he saw a young man who was obviously keeping watch. A twitchy hand was resting on the handle of a gun tucked into the front of his trousers. He hadn't spotted Drake approaching yet, his eyes were skittishly looking up as the recent gunshots had spooked him a little.

The sight of the little weasel made him react without thinking. "Freeze" Drake called out as he approached the lookout.

Was it the alcohol in his bloodstream, or the adrenaline rushing back into his system? Whichever it was, what happened next appeared to him to happen in slow motion. The gun was drawn, aimed, and the trigger pulled. As the bullet headed towards him, Drake ran up the last few steps, shifting slightly to the side as the bullet passed less than an inch from his ear. Then another bullet flew towards him, and again Drake shifted slightly, just enough for the bullet to pass harmlessly to to right of his arm. By teh time the third bullet was fired, the gunman would find a fist buried deep under his rib cage.

As the gunman coughed up blood, his head was slammed back into the wall with enough force to knock him unconscious.

Picking up the gun from where it had fallen on the stairwell floor, Drake checked it out, then put it under his belt before making his way to the location of the woman's voice.

Calling out as he did, "Hey, Lady! I'm here to help. Are you alone?"

[Nschornhorst]

A black cat, hearing the commotion of the humans silently emerged from the shadows, its eyes glowing in the night. "Mrowr?" It stared curiously at the humans causing such a commotion.



It quietly edged closer, pausing to sniff at the two bodies that had just tumbled out of the closet. The cat then calmly licked its paws before stretching and yawning.

[MrSandman]

Not too many good things to be said about this city.....Ever since the fires, keeping the peace has been a losing battle. Been on the force for longer then I care to remember....worked with a lot of different officers. Good ones. But lately, seems I can't stick with one partner. Everything been going downhill....between the fires, the gang violence, the monsters......hell....roads are absolute ****. Makes doing my job a daily shitshow....never know what new hell I'll be rolling into.

Been off duty for about an hour, my latest partner been driving me all over downtown following leads on some gang case......newbie thinks he's a big shot because he has some collage degree in ****. Wouldn't even made it past the bar where I come from....little stuck up panzy.

Just finished getting something to drink at the local gas station before heading back home....usually take a ride down along this area every night. Being off duty is one thing, but this place needs more then just some day cop to keep it safe.....

Then I hear it....some voice calling out to me.

Ugh....can't stand this mental mind power bullshit......but it sounded like someone genuinely in trouble. Might be worth taking a look into.

Peterman Avenue apartment building......Yeah, I knew the place. Drive by there once or twice in the past. Nice place.

....as far as **** sandwiches go.

~~~~



A car slowly pulls in along the street below the apartment building. It’s lights flash as the scene is taken in....somewhere above was the source of the message. There was only deciding the best road to take.

The stairs? No....him and stairs rarely ever got alone. Usually ended up with a busted ass after a short fall.

There was however....an elevated parking garage on the other side of the street.....maybe....just high enough too....

“If you can hear me," she said, her voice shaking just a little, "I've been shot and I'm surrounded in an apartment building on Peterman Avenue. I count like... five or six people with guns. Please, someone, help me,"

Through the nearby window, the screech of tires could be heard from across the street....followe by something being smashed, and then.....a car came smashing in through the apartment window with all the grace of a multi ton metal falcon.

[Nik Hasta]

The darkness heard her question and its response was the soft, prolonged creak of the closet door opening up and from it came two large objects that fell to the ground with heavy thuds. Further inspection of these objects would reveal them to be two of her assailants, their bodies cold and their faces masked with twisted, contorted visages that spoke of the unspeakable horror that befell them.

Curiously, on the nearby bed would Johanna find their weapons neatly placed, a gift for her to even the odds against those remaining, perhaps.

"Oh shi - " Johanna reared back from the dead bodies.

Yep, definitely summoned something nasty. Smart move Jo, smart move. While she was in less direct danger of being shot, she definitely didn't feel safe per say. She looked at the guns, never liked them much herself and she didn't intend to take anything like a threatening action right now.

"Hey, so - you got a name out there?" she said, tucking her injured arm into a rudimentary sling. If she got out of here alive, she was going to rethink her strategies for dealing with her bit of the Burning.

Picking up the gun from where it had fallen on the stairwell floor, Drake checked it out, then put it under his belt before making his way to the location of the woman's voice.

Calling out as he did, "Hey, Lady! I'm here to help. Are you alone?"

A voice. A man. Sounded like the kind of person who might be well-intentioned but also holding a gun. Whatever force she called here through subspace might not take too kindly to being approached suddenly.

"Hey, so... no... I'm not alone but you might just... let's all be real cool okay," she called out, trying not to make any sudden movements. The shadows looked deeper and darker than they had any business being.

Outside the apartment, Drake caught the attention of the two remaining gang members. One of them was on his phone, speaking whispers and the other was looking very freaked out. The shadows around them were moving in frankly uncomfortable ways.

A black cat, hearing the commotion of the humans silently emerged from the shadows, its eyes glowing in the night. "Mrowr?" It stared curiously at the humans causing such a commotion.

It quietly edged closer, pausing to sniff at the two bodies that had just tumbled out of the closet. The cat then calmly licked its paws before stretching and yawning.

Johanna looked at the cat.

It had come out of the shadows. Was this the thing that killed the two gang members? Cautiously, she raised her good hand and backed away slightly.

"Hey, umm... nice to meet you. Thanks for coming to help," she said carefully, in the back of her head she was going through the calculations of how many floors she was going to need to warp through to get to ground level and potential safety. Difficult with a bullet wound but not impossible.

She wasn't keen to hang out in places where cats could murder people for too long.

Through the nearby window, the screech of tires could be heard from across the street....followe by something being smashed, and then.....a car came smashing in through the apartment window with all the grace of a multi ton metal falcon.

Johanna was carefully watching the cat and trying to figure out how to exit when a car flew through the wall.

She swore, loudly, and the floor beneath her split open as she warped a hole in it. It slammed shut behind her.

Not great manners in front of a supernatural entity but, if automobiles were going to come smashing through the walls, she wasn't going to hang around any longer. She landed on a sofa, the jolt sending a spike of pain through her shoulder.

"New rule," she muttered to herself, "No matter how desperate you get, no more open calls on subspace. **** is too wild,"

Limping slightly, she dashed for the front door of the apartment to try and make a quick getaway.

[Yun Lao]

It had been some time since death had been bestowed by his hand; not since the olden days of myth and legend where death clung to humanity like a heavy mantle. There was no joy in what he had done, nor any sense of satisfaction of justice served.

Ever since the fires came and his Gemma had been lost, he had been sojourned and without purpose. The natural order dictated that he move on to another child, yet something had changed that day. A bit of sentience otherwise never known had awakened, one that spoke of hollow feelings of sorrow and rage.

He had been waiting in the darkness for some time, seeking out the mysteries of the Burning but to what end? Vengeance? Closure? There was no certainty until that moment came.

"Oh shi - " Johanna reared back from the dead bodies.

Yep, definitely summoned something nasty. Smart move Jo, smart move. While she was in less direct danger of being shot, she definitely didn't feel safe per say. She looked at the guns, never liked them much herself and she didn't intend to take anything like a threatening action right now.

"Hey, so - you got a name out there?" she said, tucking her injured arm into a rudimentary sling. If she got out of here alive, she was going to rethink her strategies for dealing with her bit of the Burning.

A name?

He had gone by many names, pronounced with screams of terror, but he had never acknowledged any of them as his own. That would have to change if he was to break this stalemate at long last. Thoughts returned to little Gemma and how she would address him at night and to her parents; "Mr. Noches". Yes, if anyone had the honor of naming him, it was her. Introductions would have to wait, as Johanna had sought escape from the apartment complex. A wise choice, considering she was being hunted.

Having chosen a name, the beginning of definition, it would only seem fitting that a corporal form was next. The suit from before was an easy pick, but as that one gunman proved, he would need more. The closet, whose contents were now strewn about the room would once again aid him as it would provide some shoes and gloves, leaving only the matters of covering that might have been his head. There appeared to be little option to remedy that, but perhaps he could make do with something less... traditional.

Johanna was carefully watching the cat and trying to figure out how to exit when a car flew through the wall.

She swore, loudly, and the floor beneath her split open as she warped a hole in it. It slammed shut behind her.

Not great manners in front of a supernatural entity but, if automobiles were going to come smashing through the walls, she wasn't going to hang around any longer. She landed on a sofa, the jolt sending a spike of pain through her shoulder.

"New rule," she muttered to herself, "No matter how desperate you get, no more open calls on subspace. **** is too wild,"

Limping slightly, she dashed for the front door of the apartment to try and make a quick getaway.

Johanna's call had summoned more than just he, that much was quite apparent. Like moths to a flame, the unnatural had come flocking to one of their own, and he was no exception. Sneakers thudded heavily against the floor as he took his first steps as a "human", using more force than necessary to plant them firmly with each stride forward. The shadows, darker than usual would not be able to hide the welcoming form of a business suit-clad being with flashy basketball shoes, purple fuzzy gloves, and more distressingly, the teddy bear that been split from the groin to throat to serve as a makeshift mask as he slowly followed Johanna's exit.

[Nik Hasta]

OOC: Upping some stakes.

Outside the apartment, several cars and a van pulled up.

A large man with a buzzcut wearing a suit got out of the fanciest car. In his hand was a large two handed longsword. Given his size, he heft the weapon like a toy. Those with suitable senses could feel the presence of the blade like a beacon, it was old and hugely powerful magic. Flanking him were more than a dozen people. If the previous gang members had been low level grunts, handy men with few smarts but physically capable, these were the tooled up lads.

"They said Robbie and the boys traced her in here," the man with the sword rumbled in a voice like thunder, "Not a fan of people telling me what to do. Not a fan of my lads getting killed on my turf neither,"

He raised the sword and a lightning bolt arced up into the heavens and it began to rain.

"Get in there and bring everyone who looks like trouble to me," he bellowed and the squad of heavily armed men advanced.

[Tami]

"Oh shi - " Johanna reared back from the dead bodies.

Yep, definitely summoned something nasty. Smart move Jo, smart move. While she was in less direct danger of being shot, she definitely didn't feel safe per say. She looked at the guns, never liked them much herself and she didn't intend to take anything like a threatening action right now.

"Hey, so - you got a name out there?" she said, tucking her injured arm into a rudimentary sling. If she got out of here alive, she was going to rethink her strategies for dealing with her bit of the Burning.



A voice. A man. Sounded like the kind of person who might be well-intentioned but also holding a gun. Whatever force she called here through subspace might not take too kindly to being approached suddenly.

"Hey, so... no... I'm not alone but you might just... let's all be real cool okay," she called out, trying not to make any sudden movements. The shadows looked deeper and darker than they had any business being.

Outside the apartment, Drake caught the attention of the two remaining gang members. One of them was on his phone, speaking whispers and the other was looking very freaked out. The shadows around them were moving in frankly uncomfortable ways.



Johanna looked at the cat.

It had come out of the shadows. Was this the thing that killed the two gang members? Cautiously, she raised her good hand and backed away slightly.

"Hey, umm... nice to meet you. Thanks for coming to help," she said carefully, in the back of her head she was going through the calculations of how many floors she was going to need to warp through to get to ground level and potential safety. Difficult with a bullet wound but not impossible.

She wasn't keen to hang out in places where cats could murder people for too long.



Johanna was carefully watching the cat and trying to figure out how to exit when a car flew through the wall.

She swore, loudly, and the floor beneath her split open as she warped a hole in it. It slammed shut behind her.

Not great manners in front of a supernatural entity but, if automobiles were going to come smashing through the walls, she wasn't going to hang around any longer. She landed on a sofa, the jolt sending a spike of pain through her shoulder.

"New rule," she muttered to herself, "No matter how desperate you get, no more open calls on subspace. **** is too wild,"

Limping slightly, she dashed for the front door of the apartment to try and make a quick getaway.

Hearing her footsteps approaching, Drake pulled out the handgun, aimed, and just as she was about to reach it he fired off two shots. Again, the slow motion effect took hold over him as he did. The other two men had drawn their weapons, but neither got off a shot before being caught by the last two bullets in his acquired weapon.

Then the sound of her footsteps suddenly vanished. Not having time to figure out what was going on, Drake focused on taking out the two thugs.

Both were injured, but still a threat. Throwing the empty gun aside, he prepared to fight them the old fashioned way.

[Nik Hasta]

Hearing her footsteps approaching, Drake pulled out the handgun, aimed, and just as she was about to reach it he fired off two shots. Again, the slow motion effect took hold over him as he did. The other two men had drawn their weapons, but neither got off a shot before being caught by the last two bullets in his acquired weapon.

With both men thrown back by the force of the shot, it bought the woman enough time to escape. As soon as she passed, he stayed behind to clean up the scum before following her outside.

OOC: While this is freeform and thus loose, Johanna warped through the floor. She's on the floor below Drake. However, Mister Noches is there in all his... horrific patchwork glory.

[Tami]

OOC: While this is freeform and thus loose, Johanna warped through the floor. She's on the floor below Drake. However, Mister Noches is there in all his... horrific patchwork glory.

OOC: Oops, sorry, I misread what you wrote. I'll edit and try to pay closer attention.

[KingofPie]

60 years and humankind was still much too slow.

"C'mon...c'mon, kid. Hurry up, already, will ya?!"

The gas station attendant yawned lackadaisically as he sat up to find a new customer pulled in. He'd heard the yelling a minute ago, as he was taking a nap on a small plastic chair resting outside the station. He figured, the customer could wait a few more seconds while he'd gotten some more winks in. Idly, the attendant waltzed over to find a red and black motorcycle awaiting gas. Where it's rider was, was a mystery to him, but his job wasn't to question the whereabouts of the vehicle's owner, but merely to fuel up said vehicle.

Yawning still, he flipped open the fuel tank with one hand and reached for gas nozzle with the other, a mistake he would soon learn. The motorbike's wheels began to spin in place, splashing up puddles of gasoline against the attendant's clothes and with a brief fiery flare of exhaust, the attendant quickly lit aflame.

"OOooOOoooOOHhhhHHH SHIIIIIIIIT!" the attendant screamed in shock agony, beginning to dart around as flames erupted on his clothes as his boss, grizzled old vet that he was simply stepped out, fire extinguisher in hand and doused the poor fool down. The old man turned to the motorcycle and chided. "You gonna cost me another one? Word ever gets out and nobody'll ever wanna work here again!"

"Then lemme give ya some advice, my friend..." a voice replied, appearing to emanate from the motorcycle itself, a singular eye glowing between it's handlebars and blinking with every syllable. "You gotta train your subordinates well! Teach 'em the ropes! Otherwise, they'll jsut be another skid-mark on the roads of life...now you got the usual"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," the owner shook his head grumpily, muttering something underneath his breath about 'hooligans' as he pulled out a medium-sized basket of french fries, sprinkled with old bay seasoning and doused in a mix of Nos and ketchup. Unceremoniously dumping them into the fuel tank, he began to walk away as latch closed itself and the motorcycle began to rev it's engines, roaring like a lion.

"**** yeah, fuel in the tank!" the motorcycle belched. "Now, all's I gotta do is catch up to that no good four-wheeler...." he scoffed. "Gonna pay for what he's done..."

He didn't even know what this car was yet...was it touched by the Comet If so, why'd it seem so...earthbound? Maybe it wasn't awakened like the others. HE certainly didn't sense any 'Initial Chi'...but none of that mattered now! Just thinking about the disrespect perpetrated against his crew lit his oil to a boil. But he'd get his revenge yet! Ain't nothin' ever over until Skorch Suzuki says it is!

He skidded down the road, flags raised proudly, resting against the sides of his seat, displaying the emblem of the Steel Wheels. Steeled resolved. Iron willpower. A shared dream: Freedom. A dream that one car dared trample on. But Skorch'd have the last laugh....especially since he was sure it headed down over to Peterson.

Last he checked, there was a boatload of trouble headin' that way. Damn good timing. Ain't nothin' can rev up the Nos to max like a racing into danger! And as he turned the corner on the street, that's just what Skorch Suzuki set out to do.