[ooc] This is the first fic I've tried to write with a plot! So please bare with me if it takes a little long to get to the point. There's just so many charachters in JSRF and I would really like to keep the chapters short and easy enough to read. If you have a suggestion at any point during the story, don't hesitate to make it.
I enjoy recieving intelligent reveiws that tell me what people really think of my writing, however, if a long reveiw is something you can't be bothered with, I also would like to know how many people are following this story.
Thanks you to everyone who read and reveiwed my last fic, 'I am'. All the charachters in that have been used in this, or will be eventually. I reckomend you have read that first so you know who the charachters are. [/ooc]
The grate of wheels over concrete had all the beat of a wrist watch as a girl skated along Highway Zero, following the side of the road without disrupting the traffic, skating more for the sensation of doing something rather than to reach a particular location. She hadn't been skating very long, but she did want to check out the highway, for a couple of reasons. First of all, she had heard that there were a few stalls about the place, and she was a sucker for a bargain, especially if she could haggle about the price. Secondly, it wasn't part of her territory, and she was always curious. Curiosity killed the cat, so they said, well, this girl was also partial to cats.
She skated along beside the road, past a rail then turned 180 degrees to skate along it and get enough speed to ride the billboard at the end of it. But instead of jumping to the other in a series of moves she loved, she let herself drop, and just look. The area was obviously controlled by another gang, that was for certain. Their tags were all over the billboards.
Maybe there would be better things to do here instead of shop after all.
She inspected the graffiti critically, it was only a small sort, a picture of a spray can to be precise. She smiled, and pulled a can of paint from the bag on her bag, and shook it up thoughtfully, deciding between the series of tags in her head to choose which she would do.
After a moment's consideration, the girl put the can back without spraying anything, and instead took out a permanent marker from her bag and knelt to write next to the bottom right corner of the tag. She scrawled something quickly, then turned and skated back the way she had come.
Clutch watched the girl from a high platform of the highway. He considered her actions odd, and wondered if she had noticed him. It was unlikely, she hadn't looked his way, and he hadn't seen her before. Soda had never mentioned a girl that looked like her either, with her long, wavy brown hair, leopard print, definitely tight top and plain black pants. He would definitely remember a body like that if he saw it again. He watched the girl skate down the Highway and out of the GG's territory before making his way down to see exactly what she had done to his tag.
He had to kneel to read what she had written. In distinctive blue ink was written 'Nice design, it's got character. Proportions are slightly out though, but over all good. B+'. Then the style changed to a scrawl that was almost completely horizontal saying, he guessed, it was hard to read, 'Ferox was here'.
Ferox. He didn't recognise the name. Clutch guessed he'd have to ask other people if they knew anything. He didn't know if it was the girl's handle, or a new gang. Part of him hoped that what she had been wearing was uniform among a gang, and he was fairly sure he would be able to recruit a few other guys in the GG's to go after them if it was necessary to 'teach them a lesson'.
Actually, he liked the idea of spanking a girl like that over his knee, now he thought about it. But now was not the time to think of such things, they could be pondered about later. Later, as in just before he fell asleep. More important things were happening just then.
A car pulled up right in front of Clutch. It was an average looking one, the sort that was new maybe thirty years ago but now were only bought second, third or fourth hand if it was lasting. The driver got out, shut the door, and walked between the billboards quickly heading for the stalls.
Clutch stared at the car.
The keys were still in the ignition.
Clutch wasn't a criminal, he was just around when crimes happened. This was because of stupidity. Other people's stupidity. Mainly the stupidity of people designing cars that can go from 0 to 180 kilometres an hour in ten seconds and selling them to even stupider people who were only interesting in dull things like fuel combustion, and the colour of the seats. Clutch didn't see the point of that. That wasn't what cars were for.
The keys were still in the ignition.
As far as Clutch was concerned, he was practically doing people a favour by really seeing what their cars could do, and no way was that stealing because he always put them back if he could, and they were nearly in the same shape. You'd think people would be proud to know their car can do close to 200 kph on highway zero instead of complaining all the time.
The keys were still in the ignition.
There were a million places in the world the keys could have been, but in the ignition is where they were....
Old cars like that probably couldn't go very fast at all.
They keys were still in the ignition. Firmly, invitingly in the ignition.
Clutch shifted uncomfortably.
He was aware that there were people in the world who considered it wrong to take cars that didn't belong to them, but, however you looked at it.....
.....the keys were still in the ignition. They weren't going anywhere by themselves.
I enjoy recieving intelligent reveiws that tell me what people really think of my writing, however, if a long reveiw is something you can't be bothered with, I also would like to know how many people are following this story.
Thanks you to everyone who read and reveiwed my last fic, 'I am'. All the charachters in that have been used in this, or will be eventually. I reckomend you have read that first so you know who the charachters are. [/ooc]
The grate of wheels over concrete had all the beat of a wrist watch as a girl skated along Highway Zero, following the side of the road without disrupting the traffic, skating more for the sensation of doing something rather than to reach a particular location. She hadn't been skating very long, but she did want to check out the highway, for a couple of reasons. First of all, she had heard that there were a few stalls about the place, and she was a sucker for a bargain, especially if she could haggle about the price. Secondly, it wasn't part of her territory, and she was always curious. Curiosity killed the cat, so they said, well, this girl was also partial to cats.
She skated along beside the road, past a rail then turned 180 degrees to skate along it and get enough speed to ride the billboard at the end of it. But instead of jumping to the other in a series of moves she loved, she let herself drop, and just look. The area was obviously controlled by another gang, that was for certain. Their tags were all over the billboards.
Maybe there would be better things to do here instead of shop after all.
She inspected the graffiti critically, it was only a small sort, a picture of a spray can to be precise. She smiled, and pulled a can of paint from the bag on her bag, and shook it up thoughtfully, deciding between the series of tags in her head to choose which she would do.
After a moment's consideration, the girl put the can back without spraying anything, and instead took out a permanent marker from her bag and knelt to write next to the bottom right corner of the tag. She scrawled something quickly, then turned and skated back the way she had come.
Clutch watched the girl from a high platform of the highway. He considered her actions odd, and wondered if she had noticed him. It was unlikely, she hadn't looked his way, and he hadn't seen her before. Soda had never mentioned a girl that looked like her either, with her long, wavy brown hair, leopard print, definitely tight top and plain black pants. He would definitely remember a body like that if he saw it again. He watched the girl skate down the Highway and out of the GG's territory before making his way down to see exactly what she had done to his tag.
He had to kneel to read what she had written. In distinctive blue ink was written 'Nice design, it's got character. Proportions are slightly out though, but over all good. B+'. Then the style changed to a scrawl that was almost completely horizontal saying, he guessed, it was hard to read, 'Ferox was here'.
Ferox. He didn't recognise the name. Clutch guessed he'd have to ask other people if they knew anything. He didn't know if it was the girl's handle, or a new gang. Part of him hoped that what she had been wearing was uniform among a gang, and he was fairly sure he would be able to recruit a few other guys in the GG's to go after them if it was necessary to 'teach them a lesson'.
Actually, he liked the idea of spanking a girl like that over his knee, now he thought about it. But now was not the time to think of such things, they could be pondered about later. Later, as in just before he fell asleep. More important things were happening just then.
A car pulled up right in front of Clutch. It was an average looking one, the sort that was new maybe thirty years ago but now were only bought second, third or fourth hand if it was lasting. The driver got out, shut the door, and walked between the billboards quickly heading for the stalls.
Clutch stared at the car.
The keys were still in the ignition.
Clutch wasn't a criminal, he was just around when crimes happened. This was because of stupidity. Other people's stupidity. Mainly the stupidity of people designing cars that can go from 0 to 180 kilometres an hour in ten seconds and selling them to even stupider people who were only interesting in dull things like fuel combustion, and the colour of the seats. Clutch didn't see the point of that. That wasn't what cars were for.
The keys were still in the ignition.
As far as Clutch was concerned, he was practically doing people a favour by really seeing what their cars could do, and no way was that stealing because he always put them back if he could, and they were nearly in the same shape. You'd think people would be proud to know their car can do close to 200 kph on highway zero instead of complaining all the time.
The keys were still in the ignition.
There were a million places in the world the keys could have been, but in the ignition is where they were....
Old cars like that probably couldn't go very fast at all.
They keys were still in the ignition. Firmly, invitingly in the ignition.
Clutch shifted uncomfortably.
He was aware that there were people in the world who considered it wrong to take cars that didn't belong to them, but, however you looked at it.....
.....the keys were still in the ignition. They weren't going anywhere by themselves.