Destiny
Anchors away....
- Joined
- Jul 23, 2003
- Posts
- 3,171
Destined For Winning
Destiny leans against the bar an elbow resting on the edge of it as she idly twirls a finger around in a glass of amber liquid. The ice clinks occasionally as she moves the cubes around.
Either already in the club or having passed through the entrance unseen, the large man they call Montrose moves through the crowd as though he were at home. There doesn't seem to be a pattern or path to his wandering, more just random movements through the sea of humanity. Finally finding a clear place near the dance floor, the man stops, letting his head move around slowly as he simply watches.
Destiny idly slides her finger from her drink and suckles the liquid from it as she looks about the bar, no need in a napkin why waste good alcohol. Ice blue eyes flicker over people nearby before she widens her glances around. The usual crowd of hum hum let me look good crowd flicks around the place with only the occasionally out of place leather clad person. Finally she turns and rests both elbows on the edge of the bar, causing her jacket to flare slightly before she rests her eyes on the tall man by the dance floor.
More than his perfect body, much more than his height, they're just seems to be a presence around Montrose that causes some to look his way. It's not overt, a subtle touch of ... Something there that seems to make him the center of a small crowd of people around him. Currently, Montrose seems to be chatting with one particularly cute leather clad vixen before he lets out a small laugh. A general hand motion to her and the man has turned to start making his way toward the bar. Ah. The dance of a club. Meetings and departures happening in seconds.
Watching Montrose for a few moments Destiny's eyes track him as he moves closer but then she looks off to other various occupants the man by the door, the girl on a stool by the dance floor,
Coming to stop at the bar a couple of people down from Destiny, Montrose lean forward to yell something to the barkeep, his order probably. The keep turns to begin mixing it, giving the man time to glance around to those near him, a smile to each, including Destiny when the two between Montrose and her depart with their drinks. He lets his eyes linger on Destiny for a moment, her being the better looking of the three ladies in the vicinity before needing to turn his attention back to the barkeep and his order. Quickly removing a wallet from his pants, Montrose pays the keep but doesn't immediately leave the area.
Destiny looks along her shoulder at you and arcs a brow at the smile and she just smirks in return as she slowly turns around to slide up onto a stool and begins to idly stir her drink again, a long nail moving the ice cubes around playfully.
The smirk only bringing forth the appearance of a challenge to him, Montrose moves over to the seat next to the woman of his attention. She should be flattered that he noticed her. Of course, there might be other reasons as well. "One simple question." the man says as he sits down next to you, "How are you alone here?" Pick-up? Maybe. Curious? Very. In his move to take the seat next to Destiny, Montrose apparently forgot his drink where it now sits and then is gone as someone passes by. Free drinks in a club, everyone's willing to take those.
Destiny remarks her voice a soft Cajun accent that caresses each word,"Simple, it is called a 1967 Harley with dual carb, goes vroom vroom and takes me anywhere I need to be, and quite alone." she smirks again and then slides her finger from her drink again to suckle it clean.
For a moment, Montrose looks confused at the answer, as, while answering the question properly, wasn't exactly what his mind was thinking. Score one for the lady. Turning to look down where his drink should be and isn't, the man glances to where it was before he left it as well. Damn. Turning back to Destiny, he says, "Ah. I see." He takes a moment to adjust his thinking process before adding, "A pity that someone such as yourself needs something so ... Unequal to go about town." Either there's a compliment in there or an insult; it's very hard to tell which. Then, of course, someone looking like what Montrose does wouldn't know the first thing about motorcycles would they?
The smirk returns and she levels a grey eyed stare of Montrose and shrugs simply causing the jacket's belt to jingle a bit, "And you, what brings a man of your uh obvious "charm" to a place like this alone, on a cold dark night?
Destiny fired the first shot and now it's Montrose's turn to retaliate. "Something much more suited to me than a worn bicycle." he states, motioning to the barkeep for his attention again when he has time, "Although I believe that the Kawasaki NextGens aren't available here for general sale." He turns back to Destiny, his smile still they're with a hint of ... mocking hidden within as well. "Surely you'll think of foregoing your bicycle when they do." he states as though it were fact.
A flash of annoyance crosses her eyes, perhaps anger perhaps admiration but then you realize what it is when she growls slightly at you, "A Harley Davidson is not a bicycle it is the state of the art machine designed for those people who know how to Ride a thriving piece of machine. You sir can take your crotch rocket and blow it up your nose, thinking My mode of transport outdated. I would place her up against your wanna_be a bicycle anytime, messier." as she finally finishes her little speech she smirks slightly and blows you a kiss.
The flash of anger seems only to heighten the man's amusement all the most. Score one for the man. Her speech only seems to make that smile of Montrose's more brilliant as it progresses. "My dear." Montrose begins, "A Harley Davidson needed to have the power to make up for its deficiencies in handling." He moves his hand in a mimicked motion of catching that blown kiss that the lady sends his way. "One needs no skill to use something with power." he states afterward, "Whereas finesse requires skill."
Destiny smirks simply and slides a finger along her throat and flicks a hair back along her shoulder,"Mon Ami, It is not a normal Harley Davidson, it is MY Harley Davidson, and the accouterments and failings that come with any machine are not present on MY machine." Her voice a soft purr her eyes laughing at you as she then says," But I can guarantee anything you put up against her would be left in a pile of black asphalt and smoke."
Montrose's eyes follow the finger upon the throat with some interest as he listens. When she's done with enticing move, Montrose's eyes look up into hers, a small bit of challenge there now as well. "Proper manners prohibit me from disagreeing with a lady." he says, his voice telling another story though, "Should we, then, test your theory?" The smile's left his face but there's still a look of humor as Montrose keeps Destiny's gaze, "I give you my word as a gentleman, I'll be gentle." The barkeep finally stops to get the second order of his but Montrose simply waves a dismissive hand at him, clearly thinking that Destiny will take the challenge.
Destiny rolls her eyes and pushes off the bar and adjusts the jacket just so as she smiles simply, oh yes that Your on look that says your ass is grass and I am the mower." Your on darling', but just remember when I come back and you a re still sitting at the starting line that you were warned." dropping a 10 on the bar Destiny walks toward the door, assured you will follow.
Montrose follows Destiny, allowing her to lead the way. From behind her, she can hear him speak one last statement before stepping outside. "I'm sure I will remember that." he states before breaking off from where she's going to get his own bike.
Destiny walks out the door and toward her black tanked hog, the chrome gleams with a high gloss and the black leather seat looks well cared for, From tip to tip the bike looks evil enough to do some dirt damage and a race against it even more challenging. She wasn't joking when she said it was a machine to be proud of. Bending over at the waist she wraps her hair up and ties it back so she can put on her helmet a matching black full faced helmet that gleams with the name "destiny" in red along the sides.
Montrose only gets to see the ending part of Destiny's ritual as she gets ready to try her luck against him as his own bike was a distance away from hers. The odd thing is at first; the sound of the engine has more ... Soul, as an enthusiast would say, hinting there's something very different already about this crotch rocket of Montrose's. Pulling up besides her, the bike is a simple matte black one, a little longer than a normal Kawasaki but that's only to a trained eye. The helmeted head of Montrose's, including a chain mail 'skirt that goes partway down his back to protect his hair, turns to look at her, the black faceplate hiding the grin that she knows is there. With a quick salute to Destiny, Montrose drives out to the curb, awaiting the other challenger.
Destiny slides onto the bike and goes through ht e ritual checking over of her bike, anyone that knows her, knows she does this inspection wither she races or she just merely is riding. A sort of mental checklist as if she doesn't trust that someone hasn't touched her bike. Finally she seems pleased with the specs and the Harley roars to life with a flick of her wrist. A few throbs of the engine and she slides Away from the curb.
The small rocket has a lighter thrum to it's engine in counterpoint to the deeper rumble of the Harley. When Destiny pulls up next to him, the man's helmet turns to look at her, simply nodding once, letting her set the 'go'. There's none of the revving up that normal people do, the man being certain that he can get the jump when needed or trusting his bike that much. He simply waits for the race to begin.
Lifting 3 fingers they slowly begin the count down and Destiny nods as she turns the handle and heads off down the street, no burning tires here she is merely heading down the street at the speed of her bike, the gears shift smoothly and she sends a mocking smirk toward Montrose although he can't see it as the black glass of her helmet hides her face.
At first Montrose falls behind the woman as she takes off. The two zip around cars, going well over triple the speed limit within the city. Destiny is good, very. Montrose sees to be as good as well though. As the two go, he slowly begins to creep up on the lady in front as he cuts corners around cars by the barest thread, almost looking as though he might hit them at times.
Destiny takes a precarious turn as she cuts off a van to do it around the corner and down the road she goes her concentration now on the road as she gets into the feel of the race, she can feel more the seen Montrose is creeping up behind, sure she will find him beside her along the way somewhere..
Destiny would be right on having Montrose catching up to her with one exception. As she cuts the van off, Montrose is forced to take the back route around it, putting him further behind now. Leaning forward, the man locks his eyes on the woman's back, willing himself to catch her. Again, his close cuts and near shaves slowly brings him forward. Destiny has the pure skill. Montrose seems to have the same along with ... Something else. 30 feet.... 25 feet...
Destiny downshifts the bike and zips down an alley a shortcut perhaps, but this is street racing and we all know it is illegal if you get caught. Noting his position Destiny doesn't weave or try to cut him off, know that wastes time and gives the other driver the advantage, she hasn't accelerated even a half bit of her throttle and she merely leans into the bike and seems to become one with the beautiful machine her confidence high.
As Montrose takes the turn into the alley following the woman, the relative open-ness of the alleyway giving the woman the slight advantage as Montrose's bike and her own seem to be barreling along at about the same speed, neither one gaining or losing ground in there. Seeing that there's only one way to go up ahead, Montrose maneuvers his bike to take that corner as sharply as possible... What he's planning possibly being close to insane. But a challenge is a challenge and he's not about to lose.
Destiny Doesn't notice the shift of the bike by you and takes the turn at a squeal of tires but a bit wide as she notes a car double parked a slight frown mars her features as she feels she looses ground and she downshifts again and rips the throttle to full open. Her head spins and she notes your position but too late as she sees you....
Turning up to the sidewalk and nearly colliding with the building there, Montrose's features are hidden by his helmet as he sees the car that caused Destiny to loose ground being directly in front of him. SHIT! With only a second to think, he doesn't even do that. Turning the front wheel slightly and pulling up with his massive strength, Montrose sends his bike at the front of the car. A crunch of metal as his bike impacts the car. A few gasps from people around as they wait for the blood to splatter when Montrose hits the ground. But it doesn't happen. The angle and the speed send the bike and Montrose in a somewhat controlled jump over the hood of the car, saving him from impact and landing his only feet behind the woman in front. What was sure a disaster for him turned into an advantage.
Destiny rips the bike into a higher gear and zips down the road, this time the tires squeal and she leans into the bike more and only looks back a split second to see where Montrose is. Finally gauging the speed she growls slightly as she looks back toward the front, he is good, damn good.
When she takes the bike to it's higher gear; it slowly begins to pull away from the rocket behind her, her modifications to her bike helping more than anything. Seeing this, Montrose knows that battling power with power in this case is senseless. Each obstacle, though, seems to be what keeps Montrose in the battle in this section of the city, near heart attacks to drivers and swishes that stop people in their tracks when the cycle goes inches away from them. Somehow he knows what slack he has to play with almost instinctively. She's got Power; he's got The Touch.
Destiny does look back as she nearly take out a car, her leg brushes the fender as she leans into the wind it rolls off her helmet as she fights now to stay ahead, his gain on her puts a bit of pressure on and not having the finesse of the driving capability he does she shifts the biker into the final gear and drops the throttle to the breaking point, well over the legal speed limit as she takes the last length of the race at a life stealing speed.
Yet another corner gives Montrose another minute gain as he hears the cycle in front of him let out a roar that would shake the foundations of small houses. People around the street stop and watch as they see two blurs going by them, one then the other. As the homestretch is come upon, Destiny's cycle begins to pull away again, as the engine in it is just too much for the smaller one behind it. Both going well above the speed limit and even where other, less suicidal bikers are afraid to go, the two race onward. Unless other obstacles come into play, the result of this race looks to be a forgone conclusion now. The Power of Destiny winning the day.
Destiny slides to a stop right in front of the iron gates of the cemetery a nice place to be if your going to die that is, but the bike comes to a standing slide of dust and gravel and she watches to see where you land if half as lucky as she is. Hands rest on the handles and she stands up bike still throbbing and alive between her legs, proud of the turn of events but admiring you the skill she lacks only the power of the engine giving her the edge.
Other bike comes roaring toward the gates as well; the power not seeming to diminish as Montrose comes forward. At the last possible second, he too turns his bike into a sliding stop, both wheels looking like they hit the gates to stop them. A sharp person would notice the gates not rattling from the hit though. Looking down, both wheels are within inches of the barrier, the tracks stopping where the tires are and not going closer to the gates. Letting his legs fall to the ground, Montrose stands up as well, keeping the bike balanced easily between his own massive legs as he reaches up to remove the helmet from his head. He leans his head down before jerking it back up and sending his hair over his back again. "Good race.", he says over the engine's rumbling, "It looks like you were correct. I owe you my apologies." While it seems he doesn't care to have lost, something is forcing him to utter those words.
The bike rumbles to silence and she slowly kicks off the stand and slides from the bike her leather pants gripping her in all the right places as she moves and finally slides off her helmet, slowly swinging her head back and forth her hair cascades down to her back and she licks her lisp to send a smile toward you, not a mocking sardonic one not even a smirk as she inclines her head and remarks," It was a good race I haven't had one of those in a long while, I do thank you Mon ami, and may I have your name?"
Pressing one of the controls on the bike's 'bars, Montrose's rocket idles down to a quiet rumble before shutting down as well. He brings one leg over as he places his helmet upon the seat where he was just sitting. "Thank you.", he rumbles, his voice a baritone vibrant, "You as well. There aren't many people who can control that much power that easily." He takes a moment to offer a friendly smile as well, this one devoid of those hidden agendas that one has within a club, "William Montrose, preferably just Montrose, at your service." He waits for the reciprocating introduction before stating, "You've modified that machine more than a little, haven't you?" He offers Destiny a small wink, letting her know that, on identical bikes, things may have been different. Something to ponder on.
Destiny laughs gently and shrugs as she dangles the helmet by a strap her voice a soft husky purr that makes the Cajun accent sexy in its own right, "Well mon ami, you have met Destiny and lived." she smirks as she makes a word play on her name and then gestures to the bike, "I like machine and this one I know from one end to the other, my s..Father was a master mind at it and drilled into me every aspect of them."
The soft voice of the woman seems to bring the man some pleasure in its purr as his smile widens slightly when he hears it without loud background noises. "Well, I must admit that I'm happy to have lived." he says, "Though I must say there's not a better fate to have fallen into." When Destiny begins to speak about her father, Montrose turns his attention to her bike, letting his eyes wander over it, finding a few of the modifications but surely not all. "From your performance, I believe he did an excellent job instructing you. It's perfect," he adds.
Destiny looks at you rather oddly and nods,"Yeah I suppose," her voice carries with it a bit of sadness and then she says simply, "So dinner is on you I do believe," her eyes twinkle with a bit of amusement a private joke perhaps or in genuine happiness at winning the race, perhaps? Walking back to the bike she props her helmet up on the bar and slide to a sitting position sideways on the leather seat, "So tell me Montrose, where did YOU learn to ride, "she looks over your attire and smirks," You don't' seem the type to have been raised in the rough street of n'orlins."
"To the victor goes the spoils." he replies to the dinner statement, his own humor tinged with being the loser. That will change though. He takes a few steps closer to Destiny, placing a hand on the gate they're both near as he lets out a soft but powerful chuckle. "Looks are everything, are they not?" Montrose says, his eyes dropping down to his body then moving up Destiny's back to her face, "If there was a worst place to do it, I believe I did it.", he says, "Salt Lake City. It was the only thing some people and I had in common. It helped ... Ease some strain at times."
Destiny drops her hands into her lap and slowly undoes the buckle to the jacket and drops it from her shoulder and slides it along the seat of the bike now. "SO becoming good at what they did you eased into being just as good if not better?" her eyes link to yours as she disregards the looks comment and then looks away.
"I don't know about that." Montrose says, "I'm told I have a knack for it and it was something that I found, surprisingly, that I enjoyed." He turns his head to look back the way they came before turning back to his partner's direction. "Since then I've had plenty of time to practice." he adds after a moment.
Destiny chuckles as he leans over and slides a knob on the bike a 1/4 back and remarks from her bent over position, "Well Time is a matter of perspective." she chuckles again to herself as she shakes her head, "So besides Looks and bikes, what else do you do Monty?" as she rises back up to her sitting position she turns only slightly and slides her hands along the bikes tank and readjusts a line there.
Commenting about looks with a very good-looking lady bent over nearby has only one outcome. Standing up straight and taking his hand off the gate, Montrose's gaze travels where it's most obvious before he forces himself to look away. Not that he's afraid to be caught; it's more impolite to stare. He chuckles again before answering. "Myself? Most recently, I was a liaisons between a few groups that tended not to get along for the most part," Montrose says as he nods to the woman as she checks out her bike (And no, at the moment, he's polite enough not to be checking her out in the process.), "It's where I learned to ride. And yourself, Destiny?"
Destiny remarks slightly soft,"Ah, Denver, or was it Chicago... oh it was Chicago THEN Denver and now here, "her voice sounds slightly distracted until everything seems in place and she climbs to her feet and walks over to your own bike and crouches beside it without touching it,"Ya know Monty if you took the cam and placed it back against the gear shift area lower it a good 4 inches you could place a two headed Carb in here and then widen the base a bit to slide in a nitrous tank, it would work and you wouldn't need a bigger bike, you kick in the gas and you are running faster then your speed O meter can register, "She says Speedometer with Each syllable as if it were 3 words instead of one and then she rises to her feet, "of course we need to be immortal to survive the break up cause once you on the race you would need to be able to stop it with tires intact.
The first time wasn't bad but the second time gets him. "Montrose." he corrects gently. He listens to what Destiny says about the bike, most of it going over his head. He stands there, watching her inspect the bike and speak. When she finishes, he admits, "Most of that is gibberish to me. I can drive them but I don't know much about the workings of the machines."
Destiny brushes off her pants with a shrugs of her shoulders, "Monty fits a racing buddy." she smirks and shrugs and walks back over to her bike as she counters, "Well it is better then being called Lumpy." she walks over to the gate and gestures to the graves silhouettes of tombstones evident from the pale moon, "Guess this was a fittin' place to end a race, but I don't make it my life's work to hang around a cemetery, come on you can at least get a girl a drink after all she DID womp your ass" she finally says it as she smirks at you and winks, "Maybe next time you won't mind leading..."
The man just stares at the woman when she even dares suggest calling him ... 'Lumpy.' Getting back on his bike, Montrose says, "Actually, with as late as it is, I should be running. Meet me there tomorrow night at the same time and I'll get you whatever you'd care to have." With that, he replaces his helmet and, after firing up his bike, turns and zips off into the night.
Destiny leans against the bar an elbow resting on the edge of it as she idly twirls a finger around in a glass of amber liquid. The ice clinks occasionally as she moves the cubes around.
Either already in the club or having passed through the entrance unseen, the large man they call Montrose moves through the crowd as though he were at home. There doesn't seem to be a pattern or path to his wandering, more just random movements through the sea of humanity. Finally finding a clear place near the dance floor, the man stops, letting his head move around slowly as he simply watches.
Destiny idly slides her finger from her drink and suckles the liquid from it as she looks about the bar, no need in a napkin why waste good alcohol. Ice blue eyes flicker over people nearby before she widens her glances around. The usual crowd of hum hum let me look good crowd flicks around the place with only the occasionally out of place leather clad person. Finally she turns and rests both elbows on the edge of the bar, causing her jacket to flare slightly before she rests her eyes on the tall man by the dance floor.
More than his perfect body, much more than his height, they're just seems to be a presence around Montrose that causes some to look his way. It's not overt, a subtle touch of ... Something there that seems to make him the center of a small crowd of people around him. Currently, Montrose seems to be chatting with one particularly cute leather clad vixen before he lets out a small laugh. A general hand motion to her and the man has turned to start making his way toward the bar. Ah. The dance of a club. Meetings and departures happening in seconds.
Watching Montrose for a few moments Destiny's eyes track him as he moves closer but then she looks off to other various occupants the man by the door, the girl on a stool by the dance floor,
Coming to stop at the bar a couple of people down from Destiny, Montrose lean forward to yell something to the barkeep, his order probably. The keep turns to begin mixing it, giving the man time to glance around to those near him, a smile to each, including Destiny when the two between Montrose and her depart with their drinks. He lets his eyes linger on Destiny for a moment, her being the better looking of the three ladies in the vicinity before needing to turn his attention back to the barkeep and his order. Quickly removing a wallet from his pants, Montrose pays the keep but doesn't immediately leave the area.
Destiny looks along her shoulder at you and arcs a brow at the smile and she just smirks in return as she slowly turns around to slide up onto a stool and begins to idly stir her drink again, a long nail moving the ice cubes around playfully.
The smirk only bringing forth the appearance of a challenge to him, Montrose moves over to the seat next to the woman of his attention. She should be flattered that he noticed her. Of course, there might be other reasons as well. "One simple question." the man says as he sits down next to you, "How are you alone here?" Pick-up? Maybe. Curious? Very. In his move to take the seat next to Destiny, Montrose apparently forgot his drink where it now sits and then is gone as someone passes by. Free drinks in a club, everyone's willing to take those.
Destiny remarks her voice a soft Cajun accent that caresses each word,"Simple, it is called a 1967 Harley with dual carb, goes vroom vroom and takes me anywhere I need to be, and quite alone." she smirks again and then slides her finger from her drink again to suckle it clean.
For a moment, Montrose looks confused at the answer, as, while answering the question properly, wasn't exactly what his mind was thinking. Score one for the lady. Turning to look down where his drink should be and isn't, the man glances to where it was before he left it as well. Damn. Turning back to Destiny, he says, "Ah. I see." He takes a moment to adjust his thinking process before adding, "A pity that someone such as yourself needs something so ... Unequal to go about town." Either there's a compliment in there or an insult; it's very hard to tell which. Then, of course, someone looking like what Montrose does wouldn't know the first thing about motorcycles would they?
The smirk returns and she levels a grey eyed stare of Montrose and shrugs simply causing the jacket's belt to jingle a bit, "And you, what brings a man of your uh obvious "charm" to a place like this alone, on a cold dark night?
Destiny fired the first shot and now it's Montrose's turn to retaliate. "Something much more suited to me than a worn bicycle." he states, motioning to the barkeep for his attention again when he has time, "Although I believe that the Kawasaki NextGens aren't available here for general sale." He turns back to Destiny, his smile still they're with a hint of ... mocking hidden within as well. "Surely you'll think of foregoing your bicycle when they do." he states as though it were fact.
A flash of annoyance crosses her eyes, perhaps anger perhaps admiration but then you realize what it is when she growls slightly at you, "A Harley Davidson is not a bicycle it is the state of the art machine designed for those people who know how to Ride a thriving piece of machine. You sir can take your crotch rocket and blow it up your nose, thinking My mode of transport outdated. I would place her up against your wanna_be a bicycle anytime, messier." as she finally finishes her little speech she smirks slightly and blows you a kiss.
The flash of anger seems only to heighten the man's amusement all the most. Score one for the man. Her speech only seems to make that smile of Montrose's more brilliant as it progresses. "My dear." Montrose begins, "A Harley Davidson needed to have the power to make up for its deficiencies in handling." He moves his hand in a mimicked motion of catching that blown kiss that the lady sends his way. "One needs no skill to use something with power." he states afterward, "Whereas finesse requires skill."
Destiny smirks simply and slides a finger along her throat and flicks a hair back along her shoulder,"Mon Ami, It is not a normal Harley Davidson, it is MY Harley Davidson, and the accouterments and failings that come with any machine are not present on MY machine." Her voice a soft purr her eyes laughing at you as she then says," But I can guarantee anything you put up against her would be left in a pile of black asphalt and smoke."
Montrose's eyes follow the finger upon the throat with some interest as he listens. When she's done with enticing move, Montrose's eyes look up into hers, a small bit of challenge there now as well. "Proper manners prohibit me from disagreeing with a lady." he says, his voice telling another story though, "Should we, then, test your theory?" The smile's left his face but there's still a look of humor as Montrose keeps Destiny's gaze, "I give you my word as a gentleman, I'll be gentle." The barkeep finally stops to get the second order of his but Montrose simply waves a dismissive hand at him, clearly thinking that Destiny will take the challenge.
Destiny rolls her eyes and pushes off the bar and adjusts the jacket just so as she smiles simply, oh yes that Your on look that says your ass is grass and I am the mower." Your on darling', but just remember when I come back and you a re still sitting at the starting line that you were warned." dropping a 10 on the bar Destiny walks toward the door, assured you will follow.
Montrose follows Destiny, allowing her to lead the way. From behind her, she can hear him speak one last statement before stepping outside. "I'm sure I will remember that." he states before breaking off from where she's going to get his own bike.
Destiny walks out the door and toward her black tanked hog, the chrome gleams with a high gloss and the black leather seat looks well cared for, From tip to tip the bike looks evil enough to do some dirt damage and a race against it even more challenging. She wasn't joking when she said it was a machine to be proud of. Bending over at the waist she wraps her hair up and ties it back so she can put on her helmet a matching black full faced helmet that gleams with the name "destiny" in red along the sides.
Montrose only gets to see the ending part of Destiny's ritual as she gets ready to try her luck against him as his own bike was a distance away from hers. The odd thing is at first; the sound of the engine has more ... Soul, as an enthusiast would say, hinting there's something very different already about this crotch rocket of Montrose's. Pulling up besides her, the bike is a simple matte black one, a little longer than a normal Kawasaki but that's only to a trained eye. The helmeted head of Montrose's, including a chain mail 'skirt that goes partway down his back to protect his hair, turns to look at her, the black faceplate hiding the grin that she knows is there. With a quick salute to Destiny, Montrose drives out to the curb, awaiting the other challenger.
Destiny slides onto the bike and goes through ht e ritual checking over of her bike, anyone that knows her, knows she does this inspection wither she races or she just merely is riding. A sort of mental checklist as if she doesn't trust that someone hasn't touched her bike. Finally she seems pleased with the specs and the Harley roars to life with a flick of her wrist. A few throbs of the engine and she slides Away from the curb.
The small rocket has a lighter thrum to it's engine in counterpoint to the deeper rumble of the Harley. When Destiny pulls up next to him, the man's helmet turns to look at her, simply nodding once, letting her set the 'go'. There's none of the revving up that normal people do, the man being certain that he can get the jump when needed or trusting his bike that much. He simply waits for the race to begin.
Lifting 3 fingers they slowly begin the count down and Destiny nods as she turns the handle and heads off down the street, no burning tires here she is merely heading down the street at the speed of her bike, the gears shift smoothly and she sends a mocking smirk toward Montrose although he can't see it as the black glass of her helmet hides her face.
At first Montrose falls behind the woman as she takes off. The two zip around cars, going well over triple the speed limit within the city. Destiny is good, very. Montrose sees to be as good as well though. As the two go, he slowly begins to creep up on the lady in front as he cuts corners around cars by the barest thread, almost looking as though he might hit them at times.
Destiny takes a precarious turn as she cuts off a van to do it around the corner and down the road she goes her concentration now on the road as she gets into the feel of the race, she can feel more the seen Montrose is creeping up behind, sure she will find him beside her along the way somewhere..
Destiny would be right on having Montrose catching up to her with one exception. As she cuts the van off, Montrose is forced to take the back route around it, putting him further behind now. Leaning forward, the man locks his eyes on the woman's back, willing himself to catch her. Again, his close cuts and near shaves slowly brings him forward. Destiny has the pure skill. Montrose seems to have the same along with ... Something else. 30 feet.... 25 feet...
Destiny downshifts the bike and zips down an alley a shortcut perhaps, but this is street racing and we all know it is illegal if you get caught. Noting his position Destiny doesn't weave or try to cut him off, know that wastes time and gives the other driver the advantage, she hasn't accelerated even a half bit of her throttle and she merely leans into the bike and seems to become one with the beautiful machine her confidence high.
As Montrose takes the turn into the alley following the woman, the relative open-ness of the alleyway giving the woman the slight advantage as Montrose's bike and her own seem to be barreling along at about the same speed, neither one gaining or losing ground in there. Seeing that there's only one way to go up ahead, Montrose maneuvers his bike to take that corner as sharply as possible... What he's planning possibly being close to insane. But a challenge is a challenge and he's not about to lose.
Destiny Doesn't notice the shift of the bike by you and takes the turn at a squeal of tires but a bit wide as she notes a car double parked a slight frown mars her features as she feels she looses ground and she downshifts again and rips the throttle to full open. Her head spins and she notes your position but too late as she sees you....
Turning up to the sidewalk and nearly colliding with the building there, Montrose's features are hidden by his helmet as he sees the car that caused Destiny to loose ground being directly in front of him. SHIT! With only a second to think, he doesn't even do that. Turning the front wheel slightly and pulling up with his massive strength, Montrose sends his bike at the front of the car. A crunch of metal as his bike impacts the car. A few gasps from people around as they wait for the blood to splatter when Montrose hits the ground. But it doesn't happen. The angle and the speed send the bike and Montrose in a somewhat controlled jump over the hood of the car, saving him from impact and landing his only feet behind the woman in front. What was sure a disaster for him turned into an advantage.
Destiny rips the bike into a higher gear and zips down the road, this time the tires squeal and she leans into the bike more and only looks back a split second to see where Montrose is. Finally gauging the speed she growls slightly as she looks back toward the front, he is good, damn good.
When she takes the bike to it's higher gear; it slowly begins to pull away from the rocket behind her, her modifications to her bike helping more than anything. Seeing this, Montrose knows that battling power with power in this case is senseless. Each obstacle, though, seems to be what keeps Montrose in the battle in this section of the city, near heart attacks to drivers and swishes that stop people in their tracks when the cycle goes inches away from them. Somehow he knows what slack he has to play with almost instinctively. She's got Power; he's got The Touch.
Destiny does look back as she nearly take out a car, her leg brushes the fender as she leans into the wind it rolls off her helmet as she fights now to stay ahead, his gain on her puts a bit of pressure on and not having the finesse of the driving capability he does she shifts the biker into the final gear and drops the throttle to the breaking point, well over the legal speed limit as she takes the last length of the race at a life stealing speed.
Yet another corner gives Montrose another minute gain as he hears the cycle in front of him let out a roar that would shake the foundations of small houses. People around the street stop and watch as they see two blurs going by them, one then the other. As the homestretch is come upon, Destiny's cycle begins to pull away again, as the engine in it is just too much for the smaller one behind it. Both going well above the speed limit and even where other, less suicidal bikers are afraid to go, the two race onward. Unless other obstacles come into play, the result of this race looks to be a forgone conclusion now. The Power of Destiny winning the day.
Destiny slides to a stop right in front of the iron gates of the cemetery a nice place to be if your going to die that is, but the bike comes to a standing slide of dust and gravel and she watches to see where you land if half as lucky as she is. Hands rest on the handles and she stands up bike still throbbing and alive between her legs, proud of the turn of events but admiring you the skill she lacks only the power of the engine giving her the edge.
Other bike comes roaring toward the gates as well; the power not seeming to diminish as Montrose comes forward. At the last possible second, he too turns his bike into a sliding stop, both wheels looking like they hit the gates to stop them. A sharp person would notice the gates not rattling from the hit though. Looking down, both wheels are within inches of the barrier, the tracks stopping where the tires are and not going closer to the gates. Letting his legs fall to the ground, Montrose stands up as well, keeping the bike balanced easily between his own massive legs as he reaches up to remove the helmet from his head. He leans his head down before jerking it back up and sending his hair over his back again. "Good race.", he says over the engine's rumbling, "It looks like you were correct. I owe you my apologies." While it seems he doesn't care to have lost, something is forcing him to utter those words.
The bike rumbles to silence and she slowly kicks off the stand and slides from the bike her leather pants gripping her in all the right places as she moves and finally slides off her helmet, slowly swinging her head back and forth her hair cascades down to her back and she licks her lisp to send a smile toward you, not a mocking sardonic one not even a smirk as she inclines her head and remarks," It was a good race I haven't had one of those in a long while, I do thank you Mon ami, and may I have your name?"
Pressing one of the controls on the bike's 'bars, Montrose's rocket idles down to a quiet rumble before shutting down as well. He brings one leg over as he places his helmet upon the seat where he was just sitting. "Thank you.", he rumbles, his voice a baritone vibrant, "You as well. There aren't many people who can control that much power that easily." He takes a moment to offer a friendly smile as well, this one devoid of those hidden agendas that one has within a club, "William Montrose, preferably just Montrose, at your service." He waits for the reciprocating introduction before stating, "You've modified that machine more than a little, haven't you?" He offers Destiny a small wink, letting her know that, on identical bikes, things may have been different. Something to ponder on.
Destiny laughs gently and shrugs as she dangles the helmet by a strap her voice a soft husky purr that makes the Cajun accent sexy in its own right, "Well mon ami, you have met Destiny and lived." she smirks as she makes a word play on her name and then gestures to the bike, "I like machine and this one I know from one end to the other, my s..Father was a master mind at it and drilled into me every aspect of them."
The soft voice of the woman seems to bring the man some pleasure in its purr as his smile widens slightly when he hears it without loud background noises. "Well, I must admit that I'm happy to have lived." he says, "Though I must say there's not a better fate to have fallen into." When Destiny begins to speak about her father, Montrose turns his attention to her bike, letting his eyes wander over it, finding a few of the modifications but surely not all. "From your performance, I believe he did an excellent job instructing you. It's perfect," he adds.
Destiny looks at you rather oddly and nods,"Yeah I suppose," her voice carries with it a bit of sadness and then she says simply, "So dinner is on you I do believe," her eyes twinkle with a bit of amusement a private joke perhaps or in genuine happiness at winning the race, perhaps? Walking back to the bike she props her helmet up on the bar and slide to a sitting position sideways on the leather seat, "So tell me Montrose, where did YOU learn to ride, "she looks over your attire and smirks," You don't' seem the type to have been raised in the rough street of n'orlins."
"To the victor goes the spoils." he replies to the dinner statement, his own humor tinged with being the loser. That will change though. He takes a few steps closer to Destiny, placing a hand on the gate they're both near as he lets out a soft but powerful chuckle. "Looks are everything, are they not?" Montrose says, his eyes dropping down to his body then moving up Destiny's back to her face, "If there was a worst place to do it, I believe I did it.", he says, "Salt Lake City. It was the only thing some people and I had in common. It helped ... Ease some strain at times."
Destiny drops her hands into her lap and slowly undoes the buckle to the jacket and drops it from her shoulder and slides it along the seat of the bike now. "SO becoming good at what they did you eased into being just as good if not better?" her eyes link to yours as she disregards the looks comment and then looks away.
"I don't know about that." Montrose says, "I'm told I have a knack for it and it was something that I found, surprisingly, that I enjoyed." He turns his head to look back the way they came before turning back to his partner's direction. "Since then I've had plenty of time to practice." he adds after a moment.
Destiny chuckles as he leans over and slides a knob on the bike a 1/4 back and remarks from her bent over position, "Well Time is a matter of perspective." she chuckles again to herself as she shakes her head, "So besides Looks and bikes, what else do you do Monty?" as she rises back up to her sitting position she turns only slightly and slides her hands along the bikes tank and readjusts a line there.
Commenting about looks with a very good-looking lady bent over nearby has only one outcome. Standing up straight and taking his hand off the gate, Montrose's gaze travels where it's most obvious before he forces himself to look away. Not that he's afraid to be caught; it's more impolite to stare. He chuckles again before answering. "Myself? Most recently, I was a liaisons between a few groups that tended not to get along for the most part," Montrose says as he nods to the woman as she checks out her bike (And no, at the moment, he's polite enough not to be checking her out in the process.), "It's where I learned to ride. And yourself, Destiny?"
Destiny remarks slightly soft,"Ah, Denver, or was it Chicago... oh it was Chicago THEN Denver and now here, "her voice sounds slightly distracted until everything seems in place and she climbs to her feet and walks over to your own bike and crouches beside it without touching it,"Ya know Monty if you took the cam and placed it back against the gear shift area lower it a good 4 inches you could place a two headed Carb in here and then widen the base a bit to slide in a nitrous tank, it would work and you wouldn't need a bigger bike, you kick in the gas and you are running faster then your speed O meter can register, "She says Speedometer with Each syllable as if it were 3 words instead of one and then she rises to her feet, "of course we need to be immortal to survive the break up cause once you on the race you would need to be able to stop it with tires intact.
The first time wasn't bad but the second time gets him. "Montrose." he corrects gently. He listens to what Destiny says about the bike, most of it going over his head. He stands there, watching her inspect the bike and speak. When she finishes, he admits, "Most of that is gibberish to me. I can drive them but I don't know much about the workings of the machines."
Destiny brushes off her pants with a shrugs of her shoulders, "Monty fits a racing buddy." she smirks and shrugs and walks back over to her bike as she counters, "Well it is better then being called Lumpy." she walks over to the gate and gestures to the graves silhouettes of tombstones evident from the pale moon, "Guess this was a fittin' place to end a race, but I don't make it my life's work to hang around a cemetery, come on you can at least get a girl a drink after all she DID womp your ass" she finally says it as she smirks at you and winks, "Maybe next time you won't mind leading..."
The man just stares at the woman when she even dares suggest calling him ... 'Lumpy.' Getting back on his bike, Montrose says, "Actually, with as late as it is, I should be running. Meet me there tomorrow night at the same time and I'll get you whatever you'd care to have." With that, he replaces his helmet and, after firing up his bike, turns and zips off into the night.
