Deadly Ride

[todd]

Well these demon days are so cold inside
It's so hard for a good soul to survive
You can't even trust the air you breathe
Cause Mother Earth has a soul to leave
When lies become reality
You love yourself because it's easy
Pick yourself up it's a brand new day
So turn yourself round
Don't burn yourself, turn yourself
Turn yourself around to the sun

Street by street everything looks normal. Nothing is out of place because the oddballs, deviants, and psychos all blend in with the overpopulated sidewalks. Blending in is nothing, you can practically make yourself disappear in these streets. A young punk kid stands guarding the entrance to an alleyway, yet nobody cares or even wonders what's going on back there. Somebody could be getting raped, mugged, or murdered. However, it's nobody's business and they don't care to get involved, least it should happen to them. The dirty little ally led into a big junkie lot where furres would drop their trash. All sorts of things, including beat down vehicles that were beyond repair, old torn-up couches, and just about anything else you could think up.

The punk out front guarded the lot because his buddies were hanging out inside. All of em just blowing off some time like they usually did when they felt like skipping school. On this occasion they were all waiting for their next race, an illegal race called Death Wish. The lot of them had hoverbikes parked all over the scene. Some of the kids were spending their time putting some kind of new contraption or enhancement on their bike, rigging it with a weapon, or simply trying to get it to run properly. Others played cards, gambled, and basically just shot the breeze with one another. One of them took the DJ role, bouncing all over the lot with a radio over his shoulder. No reason for a guard right? Wrong! Reason they had a guard dog pinned up was that a few of them though it would be fun to decorate the junkie old lot. On all sides of the walls worked a harmony of shaking and spraying cans of paint. All decorating the walls with something that brought passion to the artist. "West side sucks, east side rules", "Rich bitch snoods", all manners of things that were rude and inappropriate.

One of the kids displayed a lot of talent in his paint job. Using junk and trashcans to elevate him up higher, he created a massive display of graffiti on the brick wall. Never thinking once that he actually had potential, just fucking up the walls because he felt like causing a problem. Just a low life kid too blind to realize that he could actually make something out of himself. Nonetheless, he made the final spray and he was finished. "Rise against, Fuck the Council!" he said to himself, proudly looking up at the finished piece.

"Yo Todd, don't cha think we should beat it? Race is in fifteen, don't wanna be late we get a big reward if we win!" one of the punk kids suggested. The Death Wish was just about the only thing these kids tried to make on time. School, jobs, whatever the occasion they were always late. Todd hoped on his bike and flipped the ignition. His bike began to hover a few inches over the ground. A pretty expensive vehicle that this kid never could have afforded without doing something illegal.

"Yea, guess we should get our asses down there!" he hollered to the gang before making a wide circle around the lot on his hoverbike. He whipped out the alleyway almost taking out the kid that guarded the entrance. The kid fell on his ass to avoid the oncoming hoverbike that could easily have killed him upon impact. Cutting across the street, Todd caused a few vehicles to slam on their breaks in order to avoid hitting him. The kid guarding the lot stood up, watching Todd fly down the street before racing back to his own ride.

Todd didn’t care about anybody, which did not exclude himself either. If someone hit him, that was there problem. If someone hit him and killed him, that was his problem. However, he didn’t have much to loose and never figured that he’d care too much if someone hit him. His reckless driving was pure fun like all of his other deviants. Maybe he was just calling out for some attention, that’s what a shrink would probably say. He continued racing down the road, dodging obstacles and cutting through red lights. In no time he pulled into a big neon lit garage filled with big television screens. The sidelines were filled with random furres. Just guests and gamblers checking out the teams, deciding which side they were going to cheer on. The center of the garage was occupied by the gangs and their hoverbikes. Everyone did their own thing, each preparing for the dangerous race ahead of them.

“Todd! My buddy!” someone called out from the crowd, fighting his way out to the German shepherd kid. The guy was a tall slender rat who wore a mirrored pair of sunglasses. This was the founder and full contributor to the races, all of it started because he had the money to back it up. Kids put their lives on the line to entertain some money grubbing gamblers in hopes to win a race and make their own money. Varks, as the rat was called, held much interest in Todd. You see, he liked Todd’s reckless disrespect for everything. It always made a good show and kept people coming back for more. So much that Varks would meet with Todd before every race and personally secure Todd’s cam. Every racer wore a camera that was linked to one of the television screens in the garage. This was a requirement for the race, it provided entertainment and prevented racers from being able to take illegal shortcuts. “Here’s your cam, make sure you kick some of these punk kid’s asses tonight, alright?” he suggested, securing the camera on Todd.

“If they try to win.” He said, turning his head to a few of his own gang members just arriving. Each was soon attended to by some of Varks helpers who identified furres and secured their cameras.

((OOC: If your joining this thread I have one request, don't try to break up the race cause I already have plans.))

[skrit]

Skrit wasn't normally on the west side of St. Lucent, but today was different, though she would probably lost a few times. Today was different because she was here for a reason, two actually. One was that she need to find a certainty piece for a little trinket that needed fixing and the only place to find that was to go to west Lucent. The second was she wanted to watch the hover bike race, and to see if they were as complex as some said they were, that was if she could get close enough to them.

Skrit was walking though the streets, staying to the shadows hoping that she didn't stick out in the crowd, though that was some what hard when your 5'4'' and your clothes look like they haven't been washed in a few days. She had a crumpled up piece of paper with scribbles on it, but those scribbles held the directions to the race.

After rounding a few more corners she caught sight of the racers, and the crowd and decided to get closer to the bikes, well as close as she could with out getting thrown out.

[wastelandwheelman]

Light...dark...light...dark... The pattern of the light shining throught the windshield of the very expensive hover car (previously owned by a Council member) driven by a very dangerous furre. Cyrus Battle, a free man, once again roamed the streets with a fresh start, and he intended to make the most of it... namely in taking those involved in putting him away, down for good...

A blood red eye glanced out the window at the familiar sights: old decrepit buildings, poorly dressed furres, the cut-and-paste smoke shops, just like he remembered. The hover car slowed at an intersection, catching quite a few curious glances just as several hover biked screamed throught the intersection. The white wolf smiled, then turned down the street to follow them. Looked like there was a party somewhere...

He soon found himself outside a somewhat crowded a garage. He revved the super car's engine to clear a path, many onlookers showing confusion at such an out-of-place vehicle. Many recognized it as one a Council member would drive. One walked up, rapping his knuckle on the tinted window. "Hey Grandpa, you a little lost?"

The dark window rolled down, and the furre backed off. "N-no way! Oh shit!" Cyrus grinned as he stepped out of the hover car to applauding and cheering. He loved being a celebrity to these people, on account of him never being caught behind the wheel. He grabbed an offered beer from a furre and walked over by the monitors, glancing over the names on tape labels, and making a few high stakes bets.

[todd]

Whether they were invited or not, stragglers continued to flood into the garage. Strange how these illegal races could get so big without being stomped out by the council, maybe it was Varks’ wealth that kept his precious pastime alive. Money could provide you with damn well everything you could imagine, could it not? Varks had to be paying someone to look the other way or he was just damn good at keeping everyone hush hush.

Monitors all over the walls of the garage provided heavy lighting. Every screen had a first person view of what each racer was seeing. A pretty expensive setup but it paid off in the end. It put the audience in the position of the racers, right there in the heat of things. People liked that, maybe that’s why Varks hadn’t been exposed by now. Why would anyone rat on a rat that provided all of them with top-notch entertainment? It was a little sick to watch a bunch of kids risk their lives but it provided people with a momentary escape. Besides, the racers would not be there if they didn’t think they’d be getting anything out of it.

Todd continued to talk with Varks, the only guy he ever showed any respect. Strangely he sought out a father figure in Varks, even though he was well aware that the rat could care less about him. He only spoke kindly because he liked how Todd performed, provided a better show to keep furres coming. Nonetheless there relationship felt like a father-son connection to Todd. Something he never had which he could now try to scrounge onto. Whether he liked to think so or not, everyone needed a role-model.

About half the furres present paused everything when a council vehicle rolled into the garage. Some confused, other's thinking they were about to get busted, and a rare few that thought about trashing the vehicle. Varks looked as though he was going to piss himself for a moment. Disappearing from Todd’s side, he smoothly vanished into the crowd of people. No, money could not provide you with everything, at least not a pair. A council vehicle was not a good thing to see in this place, especially not for Varks. Todd stood beside his bike waiting to see who got out, surprised when everyone began to applaud the furre inside. It was Cyrus Battle, just a criminal who managed to wrack up some fame in the area. Todd heard a bit about him, not much, he didn’t pay much attention to any of that news shit. All he cared about was his own little bubble. His freedom to do whatever the hell he felt like doing. He only paid mind to the people that tried to be a part of that bubble and especially the ones that tried to pop it.

Finally free from Varks, Todd took the chance to talk with his gang before the race. Nothing more than chitchat, they didn’t have any real strategy in their performance. No plans to discuss, they just winged it and hoped that they would win. The races were divided up into two gangs, fifty-fifty chance of winning for the teams. Didn’t matter how many team members crossed the finish line. First place was all that mattered, and that went double for the betters. Varks was not about to give all those people a fifty-fifty chance, so he made them bet on a single racer. Most racers would focus on knocking other players out of the race, giving the fastest bike a clear shot at the victory line. Betting on them was a sure fail because they were just crash dummies. Things got violent; just about every bike was rigged with some bludgeon type weapon. Todd’s ride had a few prongs attached to the side, which held a steel pipe for quick use. However, most of the riders preferred to use long chains that they could whip out.

[skrit]

Skrit's eyes widened when she saw the council car pull up and stepped back into the shadows, thinking it was best to stay out of the lime light in the big crowd then be seen in the front. Though when she heard the applauding, and sighed with relief, it was just a criminal, like the ones who live a few doors over, she thought taking a few breaths trying, successfully, to calm herself.

Once that was done she squirmed and pushed her small body though the crowd trying to make it closer to the bikes. After hearing a few, "hey watch it!" and some fowl language she made it to the bikes, a few had a nice look to them, the others she didn't really care for. She took a step closer to the bikes looking one of them more so than the rest. She hummed a couple of times looking at the things the kid had attached to the bike, thinking about how he could move this and put that there to improve it.

OOc: just so you know she's looking at Todd's bike, oh and sorry if it sucks I'm so out of it right now.

[wastelandwheelman]

After making his bets, Cyrus decided to check out a few of the racers. All were young, no older than 18. What a waste, most of these kids could have made great atheletes or scientists, doing something productive, but instead risk their lives in this dangerous race... Oh well, not his hide hitting that pavement or streetlights.

One rider did manage to catch the albino's attention: a young dog furre, Shepherd most likely, that seemed to have an air of adamancy around him. Respectable, he thought. He turned and walked back through the crowd. Might as well grab a good spot while he could.

[todd]

As was the nature of things, Todd would kick your ass if you got anywhere near his bike. Most furres from his school truly believed that he’d kill them if they even thought about touching it. It was his prize, the one thing that was precious to him and he was determined to keep it safe. Then why does he street race with it, you ask? Because the races are a big thrill to him and the reward money means that he can steal less for a little while. He’s also very confident that nothing will happen to him or his bike.

Todd’s gang continued to talk in their tight little group, all just buddies joking about this and that. One of them leaned to his side, looking over another’s shoulder to see some chick inspecting Todd’s bike. “Hey man, someone’s pissin’ with your bike.” he noted, half excited and amused to see what Todd was going to do. He immediately turned around to defend his bike.

Here’s a thing about Todd, he’s a sucker for ladies. He’s a sucker for anything in the shape of a lady. Just a two timing lady chaser like most males, only difference was that he never let himself stop at common boundaries. Meaning, he’d hit on anyone whether or not they were already taken, and he’d already been in multiple relationships at once. He was a lady pleaser and that blocked out his violent side reserved for all the guys.

Instead of throwing a fist, he threw some charm. At least as much charm as a scum bum, low life kid could handle. “That’s my ride, you like it?” he asked, “Everything on here’s custom parts, fastest bike you’ll see in this garage.” He smiled; he could pick up a lot of chicks with his bike alone. There was always a female attraction to a guy with a cycle, especially when it was decked out. “If ya want to go for a fast ride, maybe I can take you out somewhere after the race? Show you a thing or two about hovercycles.”

His proposal was cut short when someone announced the start of the race. “All bets are down!!!!!” a voice shouted out above the crowd, silencing everyone. “Let’s get this shit started! Rules are simple, race from point a to point b on the set course. There are no shortcuts or you will be disqualified. Shooting and stabbing weapons are prohibited but everything else is acceptable. Now get your asses to the starting line!” the voice continued. Recognizing the voice, everyone was immediate to obey. “Hope all of you all are ready for tonight, lots of traffic, good night for some major shit to go down!”

[skrit]

Skrit looked up at the speaker and smiled. "She's sweet," she answered, her eyes turning back to the bike.

Skrit looked at the biker out of the corner of her eye, tall, well to someone who's 5'4", cute, and as far as she could tell strong, though his bike weapons could use some improvement. "We'll as far, as I can tell she's sweet, I don't know a lot about bikes, but fixin' things, is kinda my thing," she add, pulling her worn out red hat closer to her head.

She smiled at his offer. "Sure," she started, but was interrupted, but the announcer, "but after you win okay?" Skrit grinned, if he was as nice as he was now this might just work out.

[wastelandwheelman]

Cyrus listened as someone shouted that the race was beginning. As if on cue, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Only one person knew his number, and he knew exactly why they messaged him. With a sigh the albino wolf reached into his pocket and typed out a response. His brow furrowed a bit. They better not do anything before the race is over, Cyrus thought. He had some major money involved in this race. Hopefully they would just disregard some minor petty crime such as street racing, but there was no knowing with the Council...

[todd]

((OOC: So it's pretty long, I tried to condense it, so it might not be that great. I think I really rushed things.))

Todd smiled and slipped his red goggles over his eyes. “Keep an eye on screen eleven.” He said, pointing up to one of the monitors with a big panel underneath it that read his number. Every racer had a number for the gamblers could keep track of their marks. “That’s mine, the whole side belongs to my team. Don’t really matter who wins, just as long as it’s one of us.” With that, he revved up his engine, and tore off to the starting line.

Everyone was perfectly lined up, hovering just behind the starting line. There was just enough room for Todd to maneuver his bike between racers ten and twelve stopping along side them. He looked from left to right, grinning at all the racers. Engines were revving, gamblers were cheering, and racers were calling out insults to one another. Todd was in his element. He loved it all, the tight grip he held on the handlebars, the people, the life threat, and mostly the speed of the bikes.

Both teams were split off on opposite sides to prevent complete chaos from the get go. In between them stood a pretty girl, customary sendoff among street racers, she held two starting flags. All eyes were on her, especially from the racers who anticipated the start. She began the countdown and all the bikes began to roar in harmony with her. “3…2…1…GO!” she yelled, waving the flags to signal the start. In an instant everyone was off, ripping past the girl and flying out of the garage.

There were a few minutes of calm before all the traffic. The dead street just outside of the garage provided that. The faster bikes gained ground, slower bikes fell behind, and the teams were beginning to mix. Glances were shared between racers, each devising their own plots to cross out the competition.

Then the intensity hit them all like a wall when they broke out onto a main road. Cars and people littered the streets, bright lights and colors shot past in a fuzzy mixture. Amongst it there was an art to dodging vehicles; you couldn’t be looking at the object right in front of you. You had to be looking way ahead, calculating where things would be when you got there. It took a lot of skill and a lot of experience. Observation was essential, if you did not have it, you’d either drive very slowly or you’d get busted up pretty bad.

First red light, time to see who was paying attention and who was going to get grounded. The first few bikes shot between cars, skillfully dodging the oncoming traffic. Todd was in the first group, keeping the corner of his eye in the rearview. The skill seemed to get progressively worse as the slower drivers came through. Most of them managed to fly by untouched, some of them on a few close calls. Number 17, a punk weasel with a Mohawk, came flying through the red light at the wrong time. He turned his head just in time to see a red hover car smack into him. The car slammed on its breaks and the kid flipped over the hood. The stragglers behind him continued on through, except for one driving directly behind the weasel. This guy smashed into the side of the red car that had suddenly stopped when it hit number 17.

One screen buzzed out in the garage, camera damaged in the accident. The other had a good view of the bumper of the red car. All along, just about every racer who witnessed the event was laughing hysterically, including Todd. However, the shepherd’s fun was short lived when he caught site of one of racers moving in on him. Grabbing the long iron pipe, he whipped out with the long instrument. He had a long reach and enough force to back up his swing. The racer who was moving in decided to back off for the time being.

Meanwhile, two racers got on either side of one of Todd’s team members. The racer was struck with confusion, punching on either side of him while the two ganged up on him. They punched back but they did not intend on beating him off his bike. Instead they were directing his hover bike straight into a street lamp. The racer could do nothing but shield his face before he was instantly smashed into the solid pole. The racer and his camera taking serious damage that caused them to black out. However, one of the racer’s hover bikes got caught with the other when it hit the pole. This sent him flying onto the street corner, rolling across the concrete. He was not seriously hurt, but he would have a lot of catching up to do.

The race continued on, blows being made, bikes getting smashed. At one point, one of the racers swerved to miss a car. Instead smashing straight through a shop window. Everything was sprawled out by now; the front racers were way ahead. The one’s in the back were having a hard enough time dodging traffic to worry about the race. However, they continued because they did not want to let their team down and they had too much pride to give up while on camera.

Todd raced with the leaders, whizzing left and right past cars and pedestrians. The racer from before made another move on Todd, whipping out a chain, and lashing it at the shepherd. He got a few good blows and managed to keep the shepherd from his weapon. Todd made a few punches but the racer continued to lash out. When the racer struck out again, Todd grabbed out at the chain. Managing to get a firm grip on it and trying to pull it away from the other. Of course, the racer protested and began to pull back. The two struggled with one another, throwing punches when they could.

Unlike the other racer, Todd still managed to keep an eye on the road ahead. It was lucky because there was a hold up on an intersection just ahead, where a large truck had been halted dead center. Thinking quick Todd let go of the chain, leaving his opponent to whatever he could do to dodge the wall-like truck moments ahead. At the right time, Todd switched off the boosters on the back and left sides of his bike. This caused him to drop and hover on his side in a half assed unprofessional style. Todd leaned to his side, ducking just under the truck as he flew through. He heard a crash behind him as the racer obviously smashed into the trailer. Once through he switched the boosters back on, slowing down immensely, and kicking his bike back into position. Two racers remained directly behind him, taking a bit of time to swerve around the trailer.

He aloud no second thoughts, hammering down the pedals and whipping back into speed. In a moment his bike was brought up over 130mph from a straggly speed. However, he was thinking about what just happened and not the road ahead of him. He was half keen on his prime rule and he almost blindly drove right into a crowd of pedestrians. The group scrambled and for the first time Todd hesitated to find a direction to turn. He managed to avoid hitting anyone but his bike couldn’t handle the swerve he took and flipped on its side.

This sent Todd into the concrete, rolling him a great distance on the solid ground before he stopped. He allowed a moment to realize he was still alive, before pulling himself up off the ground. His kneecaps and elbows were skinned; nose bleeding, lip cut, and his cloths were scrapped with rips and tears. He brushed it all off, realizing that the two behind him were about to zip past. One of the racers was from his team, so he only had to focus on the other one.

Half limping over to his bike, he grabbed the iron pole. Turning to anticipate where the biker would be driving. He only had to move a few feet and swing the iron pipe just like a baseball bat. Immediately he felt the connection like a great force about to snap his wrists. However, just as quickly he felt a relief from the pressure as the racer hit the floor. The racer’s bike shot out ahead and whipped into a car without anyone to steer. The other racer on Todd’s team flew ahead, confident that they could now win it for the team.

“News just in! Todd is a fucking bad ass!” he gloated at his floored opponent, including a good swift kick. Todd crouched down beside him, shifting through the racer’s pockets. “Hey buddy, I think I might have broke a few of your ribs. Lemme get your cell for ya, so you can call up an ambulance. “ Obviously he was not only looking for the guys cell. Todd pocked some cash, not much, but there was no resistance. Then finding the phone, he dropped it down on the kid’s chest. He knew the face; this guy went to the same school as him. Well, at least not for the next few days while he was in the hospital.

Taking awhile to stand up, he limped over to his bike, leaving the racer to his own. Todd was careful to make sure his ride was still all right, something that he’d yet to do to himself. A flick of the engine and she was running the same as always. Todd let out a sigh of relief, before racing off towards the garage. He wasn’t going to take the victory, but at least his team would get the prize.

[skrit]

Skrit smiled and glanced at the screen. "Got cha'," she grinned, some of her teeth showing. Her eyes followed him to the finish line, and continued to watch as the racers sped down the empty road and disappeared into the traffic. After that she swung around to face the screens, her eyes searching for number eleven.
Watching the screens was kind of like watching a movie, though with real danger and a chance of getting killed. Skrit held her breath for short intervals when it looked like Todd's team had just about had it. He features changed as she heard furries, especially the ones near her, cheer, his team had one. He's a winner too. she thought added that to her mental list of things she liked about him.

[wastelandwheelman]

Cyrus kept his red eyes glued to the street after watching the race on a nearby screen, hearing the bikes approaching the finish line fast. Well, bike. What would have been a photo finish had been interrupted after one of the riders played a little home run derby with a fellow rider. Furres around him either laughed, cheered or swore...profusely. To Cyrus, it was rather satisfying to watch the rider go instant ragdoll after being hit like that. Not too bad, he thought to himself.

The albino wolf turned and walked to where the riders were congregating. He had been thinking the entire time he had been here about possibly finding a possible recruit for his car smuggling operations. Perhaps number eleven was that recruit. He definitely had potential, and the mindset (hell, not everyone could get up after wrecking at over a hundered and club someone off their bike). He would be patient, waiting for a chance to talk to the furre alone.

[todd]

Todd was pleased when he got back to the garage. Yeah, most of the fame would go to the winner. However, all the earnings would be split among the team. Besides, the racers who managed to knock someone down, always got their small share of the fame. The racers who were minding their time and obeying the laws were the ones who would be left in the corner to sulk and envy the furres who had some guts. Guts and a bit of insanity, that's all you needed to do well.

Kicking his bike into park, it slowly hovered down to the ground. He lifted his red tinted goggles, wiping a bloody nose with the sleeve of his torn jacket. He got off his bike fine enough, but he was really hiding how bad he was hurting. There was one thing on his mind and he pushed through the crowd to get to the winner. Once there the two bikers met in a strong handshake, patting each other on the back with their free hand. Shortly after a few more racers came flying into the garage. Some of Todd's team were overjoyed, came barreling off their bikes and tackling the winner. Todd looked around for the chick he saw before the race, slim chance she'd be willing to go on a date with a scuffed up bleeding guy. Instead he caught sight of Cyrus. The wolf was standing pretty close to his crowd, and for a moment he locked eyes with the convict. Now most furres would turn their heads, look down at the ground, or pretend that a deviant did not exist when exposed to them. Todd knew this, his gang always received that reaction when they walked down the street. Instead he held his gaze until his attention was diverted elsewhere. Back on his gang who was now lifting the winner up on their shoulders.

[skrit]

Skrits grin widened as the winners, and survivors, on both sides pulled up to the crowd of people. Though most of them where were bloodied up, the winners didn't care. Skrit walked froward wondering if the the guy from the winning team still wanted the date.
Pushing though the crowd Skrit spotted the German Shepperd, who looked like he had just had a bloody nose. She noticed his gaze, an albino wolf, who looked like some one you didn't want to mess with. The ferret mix waved, trying to get the racer's attention.

[wastelandwheelman]

Cyrus leaned against a pillar, studying number eleven some more. He then noticed a girl trying to get the rider's attention. His phone buzzed again. He pulled it out and listened to the Council member on the other end. He nodded silently, then hung up. He had to get out of there. He caught the racer looking back at him again, then nodded towards his car. He walked over to it and got in, letting the vehicle hover in neutral.

(OOC: Sorry it's been so long, and my reply short. I wasn't really sure what to do ^^