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Posted: Tue Sep 22, 2009 4:54 pm
"Yeah! were travelin' down that lonesome road. Feel like I'm dragging a heavy load. Don't try to turn my head away, I'm flirtin' with disaster every day...!"
Rossy whistled with the wind as he elatedly hummed to the chorus of a song blasting out of his Harley Dave's radio. Molly Hatchet and her collection of road hogs were singing there way on Rossy's motorcycle as he made his ride from Aekea to home. The high way was veiled in an ebony darkness due to the sudden change from sunlight to dusk. The ex pastry chef had not anticipated the time change. He was granting a cousin a small visit. However, he stayed for longer than he had estimated.
Nonetheless, he knew Adda was watching the twins. He had nothing to worry about them breaking something or killing each other while he was gone. Adda was surely a responsible girl, she could handle them.
As the wind rustled up his auburn hair, Rossy felt a sudden nostalgia. He remembered his youth when he first received his motorcycle from his father at age eighteen. He knew the vessel had some years in the hands of his father and having it passed down to him was something special. Rossy even remembered the first time he drove his motorcycle. It ended in his bike needing repairs. Well, that disaster would repeat itself again.
As the sound of a roaring engine sounded down the clear highway, Rossy pressured onto the bike's pedal and caused the motorcycle to sail across the road at a high speed. The wind skidded passed him as he raced down the highway, laughing out a "Wahoooo!" as he sped. Suddenly, two white eyes appeared upon the horizon. Than they came closer...and closer. Rossy was too late to respond as he jeered his precious motorcycle off the high way and into the grass to the side. The truck's horn blared as Rossy gladly did not meet the same fate as his deceased sister.
Sighing heavily, Rossy pressed the pedal of his motorcycle, but it would not start. Doing it several times, Rossy knew the answer. Something was wrong. Sighing again, Rossy rubbed his temple. What a problem...
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Posted: Tue Sep 22, 2009 6:08 pm
A battered a battered old Ford truck struggled uphill along the highway. It was a good car, Nick always claimed. Sturdy bugger. Not the best chick magnet, but... hell, girls didn't always see real value. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and hummed to himself - because the radio had stopped working two years ago - and let his mind wander.
He might have missed the stranded stranger if the chrome glint of the harley hadn't caught his eye. He braked and pulled over, lured in like a sailor by a siren's song. Didn't even say anything at first, just hopped out the truck and strode over to stand beside the man, eying the motorbike before him as if it were a wounded animal. He didn't think to ask before reaching out to press his hand against his fuel tank - then he realized what he was doing. He grinned sheepishly and pulled his hand away - still had grease under his fingernails from the last job. What if this guy yelled at him for getting his bike dirty? Although it looked like he had bigger things to worry about right now.
"Oh. Hey. Nice bike. You havin' trouble?" Well, that much was obvious, judging by the frustrated look on the stranger's face. Nick supposed what he'd really meant by that was 'can I have a go at it?'
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Posted: Wed Sep 23, 2009 2:16 pm
Sighing due to his misfortune, Rossy scraped his knuckles across his pants. A common habit done when he was excessively pissed or upset. Suddenly, a glint of hope sparked in him when he was approached by first was a shaggy looking pick up truck than a man. Opening his mouth to speak, he quick shut it when the other laced his fingers across his precious motorcycle.
Eying the other wearily, Rossy did not know what to do. He could ask politely for the other to stop touching the motorcycle and step away or leave him be. Choosing the first choice, Rossy opened his mouth to speak again but was immediatly quieted when the other asked his question.
"Yea..." Rossy trailed off as his voice grew low. "Somethin's up and I dunno what the problem is. Think ya can...?"
Reading Nick's face, Rossy removed himself from the motor bike. "If ya want, ya can take a crack at havin' it start again." he said simply, nodding his head and offering a crooked grin.
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Posted: Tue Sep 29, 2009 9:42 pm
Nick grinned broadly, reaching up to flick faded blond hair out of his eyes and swinging a leg over the bike's saddle after the other had vacated it. It wasn't that he thought the stranger wasn't starting his bike up properly of anything - just... it would help him figure out what's wrong. All you had to do was listen, anyway.
Sort of hard to do with the roar of the highway just a few feet away, but after a few tries he seemed satisfied. "I got it. 's not so bad - won't even cost you that much to fix. 'cept people always charge Harley owners more than they oughta. 's like a trade secret. But, uh... I can take a look at it for ya? Won't charge you a dime - ain't my garage anyway, but it's a friends' and he'll let me use it. I gotta ramp, if you wanna muscle her up?" He stabbed a thumb back at his old ford. It was worth probably less than a tenth of the Harley's value, so it would be sort of odd carrying one in the other...
But he'd done stranger things. Rubbing some stray grease off on the side of his shirt, he shrugged sheepishly. "How 'bout it? You'll be up an' running in no time, I swear."
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